Hi there. I hope you're all doing well, not panicking, not going crazy in this time of quarantine and everything... I hope I can lighten up your day a little with my update;)
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Started writing: 25.12.2019

Finished writing: 30.12.2019

Chapter 14
Tradition

It was a day before Lurlinemas that Elphaba got the letter from Shiz. It was thick and heavy, and Elphaba was sure she'd die from excitement.

"I'm sure you did great," Nessa reassured her and took the envelope to open it.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Elphaba exclaimed, and tried to snatch it away from her sister.

But the brunette girl had already unfolded the papers, and searched for the 'important page'. Her jaw dropped. "Sweet Oz, Fabala."

Elphaba clenched her fists. "What is it? Nessa, what is it?"

Nessa stared at the letter, then at her sister, and murmured almost inaudibly, "Straight As."

Elphaba's eyes widened. "Come again?"

But Nessa turned around, and shouted, "Momma, Papa! Come! Come quickly!"

And the door was flung open, and their parents stumbled into the room.

"What is it?" Father exclaimed in worry.

"What's going on?"

Nessa silently handed them the letter, and when they read what was written down, their eyes widened.

"Oh, Fabala," Momma breathed, and pulled the green girl into a tight hug.

"What is it?" Elphaba struggled to say. "I haven't seen it yet."

"Straight As," said Father proudly. "And a B+ in Law."

Elphaba freed herself from her mother's embrace. "That's not true. It can't be. You're joking."

But it wasn't a joke, and when Elphaba looked at the letter, she couldn't believe her own eyes.

Lurlinemas always came along with a few traditions. Like putting up the tree, a green fir, and decorating it with dark blue and red baubles, white candles and silver stars.

The day before Lurlinemas a light was lit above the front door, a star-shaped oil lamp, that was meant to burn two days long.

And finally, on Lurlinemas eve, the whole family gathered around the Lurlinemas fir to give each other presents.

And for this annual event, the Thropp sisters met in the younger one's room, and combed each other's hair, braided it to beautiful hairdos, and dressed up to each other's likening.

Though this was rarely achieved for Elphaba -for she wasn't the type of girl that liked to dress up, even on Lurlinemas eve.

A few years ago, the Thropp family had gone to mass every Lurlinemas, but Momma had put a stop to it when the people hadn't stopped their gaping and gossiping. And Elphaba found it ridiculous to dress up for just her family. So, she put on one of her only formal (yet simple) dresses; a dark purple, almost black wrap dress that reached over her knees, and braided her long hair into a single Dutch braid.

She stood up and waited for Nessa's reaction. And when the younger girl nodded, she flashed her a smile and slipped into her only pair of slippers; black as the night. She helped Nessa into her blue dress and tied a dark blue ribbon into her hair.

"Are you ready, girls?" Momma's voice sounded, and Nessa quickly bent forward to apply her lip balm. Then she nodded.

"Let's go," said Elphaba and stepped out of the room and into the living room.

A fire crackled in the fireplace and lightened up the otherwise dark salon. On the armchair sat Momma, wearing a blue skirt that reached almost to her ankles and an olive-green blouse. Father was perched on one of the chairs, looking up at his daughters with a smile.

"There you are," he said and got up from his place.

"Let's do this," Elphaba said with a grin, rubbing her hands together as she approached the tree.

Once they were all settled around the fir her father -who'd been the one to hand out the presents since Elphaba could remember- started to pick out the first present.

"To Melena," he read and handed Momma the present.

It was a thin packet with a red bow and when Momma impatiently ripped the paper apart a book of sheet music was revealed.

Her eyes sparkled with delight, and she quickly read the small card attached to the bow.

Then she looked up and smiled at her oldest daughter. "Thank you, Fabala; this was a great idea."

Elphaba shrugged. "You said that you wish for new sheet music."

"But that was months ago before you went off to Shiz," Momma exclaimed.

The green girl waved a hand, "I remember these sorts of things."

Momma laughed slightly and put the book behind her on the coffee table.

"Well, Elphaba," Father said. "You're next."

And he handed her a packet.

The green colour of the bow was almost of the same colour as Elphaba's skin and Elphaba couldn't help but wonder if that was by accident or intention.

Slowly and with two fingers, she opened the present. It was a book.

"Me before you" Read the title and Elphaba's lips curled into a smile.

"Thank you, Father," she said. "It's wonderful."

She stroked over the cover of the book and smiled gently. She did need to stock up her bookshelves.

"Nessa?" Father said and with a smile handed his youngest daughter the largest present yet.

Elphaba could see her sister's fingers tremble and she grinned. Lurlinemas always had her back in her old childhood-ways.

Nessa ripped the paper apart and stared at a wooden box. A wooden box with a lid that had her name imprinted on it.

"Open it," her father encouraged the brunette girl, and slowly she opened the lid -and gasped.

"Father...," she breathed out, and her eyes glowed with happiness.

And when she reached into the box and took out what was inside, she revealed shoes. No, slippers. Slippers adorned with hundreds and thousands of small, sparkling stones. Shining red and white in the light of the fire.

"Jewelled shoes," Nessa breathed.

"Jewelled shoes?" exclaimed Momma in disbelief and question.

And Elphaba could do nothing but stare at the sparkling slippers and then at the book in her hands. And she pressed her lips to a thin line.

"Oh, look at you!" exclaimed Grandmother Parta delightfully and threw her arms around Nessarose in a far-too-tight hug.

Elphaba curled her lips.

Oz, how she despised this annual family gathering, strict and monotonous and fake.

She watched as her grandmother straightened her posture and slowly turned. As their eyes locked, Elphaba could already feel the tension that gradually arose.

"Elphaba," Lady Parta said with clearly faked happiness, and she bent forward to embrace her in the faintest hug ever been.

"Grandmother," said Elphaba politely. "Do step this way."

She gestured at the open door of the dining room and gave her grandfather a restrained smile as he passed her.

"Momma-"

"Mother," corrected her Grandmother Parta.

Elphaba bit her lip for a split second, then continued, "Mother and Father will be downstairs in a minute."

Romen wrinkled his nose. "I should certainly hope so."

And he slowly sat down on the place at the head of the table—the place where Father usually sat.

"Couldn't Melena have gotten ready earlier?" Lady Parta complained. "To welcome her guests as it's proper?"

Elphaba clenched her fists, hidden beneath the folds of her simple dark blue dress, and said, "Well, Father hasn't welcomed you either."

Grandmother's head snapped up and a seething look pierced into Elphaba's brown eyes.

"Your Father's got things to do," the elderly woman said, and her fingertips danced impatiently across the tabletop.

"Momma-"

"Mother, for goodness sake!"

"Momma," Elphaba said -and this time on purpose. "has got things to do too."

"Don't you use that kind of language when speaking to your grandmother, little missy," her grandfather said sternly, and Elphaba suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at him.

"She's a woman," Lady Part argued sharply. "Women do the laundry and the dishes; they cook and knit and invite guests for tea. Your mother is the Governor's wife. The only thing she should be doing is welcome her guests, serve tea, be polite and look pretty."

Elphaba almost snorted.

'Look pretty'. She'd do an awful job at being a Governor's wife. Good for her that she was the heir.

"Now, my dear Nessarose," Grandmother turned to the wheelchair-bound girl with a smile. "Where have you gotten those beautiful shoes from?"

Nessarose blushed and lifted her skirt just the tiniest bit to reveal more of the sparkling, shining slippers.

"Father gave them to me as a Lurlinemas present," she said happily, and Grandmother Parta nodded in acknowledgement.

"He has taste, dear Frexspar," she said proudly.

Elphaba sighed in relief when she heard the faint noise of footfalls nearing the dining room.

Finally, her mother and father, all dressed up, stepped through the door. Momma was holding Father's hand, surely clutching it far too tightly -she was always so nervous when her parents-in-law came over.

And for a reason.

"Son," Lady Parta exclaimed and approached Father to pull him into a hug.

Elphaba watched how her mother stiffened when Grandmother Parta stood before her and let her gaze wander up and down her slim figure.

"Melena," the older woman said offhand, and Momma forced a smile.

"Parta."

And with that, it had begun.

"Where's the tea?"

"In the living room. I thought we might have it there, where it's more comfortable."

Grandmother Parta raised both eyebrows. "I don't remember comfortableness being a required circumstance for having tea."

Momma wrung her hands. "Well, then I'll just hurry and bring the tea in here."

She hurried to the door. "Sit, please sit. Make yourself at home."

And she was out the door.

"At home. How -in this terrible environment you call 'dining room'?" Elphaba could hear her grandmother mutter.

She clenched her fists. How could someone be so rude?

When her mother returned with the tea, sat down next to Father and began to pour tea into every cup, grandfather raised his voice.

"What about the milk?" he asked.

Momma's head snapped up, and her eyes widened in confusion.

"What about it?"

Grandfather Romen wrinkled his nose -seemed to be his favourite gesture. "The milk for the tea."

Momma put down the teapot.

"It's right there," she said, gesturing at a small pot on the table.

"Then why don't you pour milk into the cups?"

By now, Momma seemed ready to drop onto her seat; eyes widened, brows knit, cheeks flaming, "Because last year you didn't want-"

"Last year was last year," Grandmother Parta interrupted and crossed her arms.

And Momma, somehow scared and nervous as she was right then, jumped to action and filled two cups with milk. She put the pot on its place on a lace coaster, smoothed the skirt of her dress and sat down with an almost inaudible sigh.

Elphaba was sure she was clutching Father's hand again -this time, under cover of the white tablecloth.

"So...," Father said slowly. "How are you doing down in Colwen Grounds?"

Grandmother Parta looked ready to spit out her tea to start the answer, eyes widened, and nostrils flared, but her husband -Grandfather Romen- was faster.

"Oh, Colwen Grounds," he said with a snort. "While it's a great place to read and write about politics and recite academic speeches, it's hardly a place of society."

Lady Parta put down her teacup and added, "It's horrendible, you wouldn't guess. People don't go to cafes or restaurants, they don't read newspapers, it seems, and they even host Animals. Since Romen is on the verge of finishing his book we're thinking of moving to the Emerald City" -Elphaba almost choked on her tea- "so he can get into a local newspaper and-"

Suddenly, Grandmother Parta stopped, and her eyes locked with Momma's.

"Why, won't you go and prepare the dinner? Or do you plan on letting us starve to death?" she said and Momma threw Father a quick look of- of what? Confusion? Frustration?

But she got up anyway and hurried out of the room, her teacup in her hands.

And thus, Elphaba, Nessarose and their father were forced to sit there alone and pretend to listen to the complaints of Lady Parta, and Lord Romen Thropp whilst they waited impatiently for dinner to be served so they could get this done and over with.

"Oh, thank Oz," Momma sighed in relief as soon as the door had clicked shut. "Thank Oz, thank Oz, thank Oz."

She had her hands folded in some sort of prayer, thumbs gently massaging her temples as she breathed against her fingers.

Father slowly stroked over her back and said, "They really are awful."

Elphaba cocked an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

He threw her a stern look, and she shrugged.

"I feel a headache approaching," her mother said. "I'll just lay down in the living room for a while."

She had just taken two steps when she stopped again, turned and said, "Frex, could you please tell Mirella to clean the table? She's in the kitchen, I'm sure."

Elphaba shook her head. "No, she isn't. I sent her home when I went to get the dessert."

Momma groaned. "Oh, Oz."

"It's alright," said Elphaba quickly. "I'll just clean up the table; it's no big deal."

"And I'll be in my study," Father said, and with a gentle look at his wife, he added, "Call me if you need anything."

And Momma smiled and disappeared.

For a moment, Nessa and Elphaba looked at each other and Nessa tried (and failed) to suppress a yawn. Elphaba laughed slightly.

"Good night, Nessie."

She didn't wait for the reply but hurried into the dining room before her sister even had a chance to open her mouth.

They'd had a green bean casserole as a main dish (far too much salt for Lady Parta) and a Yule log for dessert (too sweet for Lady Parta) and Elphaba smirked at the work ahead. Although the table was clean in a matter of minutes, the dishes were what made the green girl's mood sink.

Usually, doing the dishes meant doing the dishes for four and on Sundays sometimes for five people (Boq loved Melena's cooking) who'd eaten off one plate. But today it meant doing the dishes for six people who'd had a main dish and a dessert off different plates and bowls and drunken two types of drinks out off different glasses.

Elphaba sighed deeply, rolled up her sleeves and began to scrub the dishes.

It was almost half an hour later that the green girl could finally dry her hands and leave the kitchen, kicking the door close.

"Fabala?"

She stopped, turning.

"Yes?"

Her feet carried her into the living room, and to the sofa where her mother sat, feet tucked underneath her, a book on her lap. The older woman patted the empty seat beside her. "Come, dear, sit with me for a while."

So, Elphaba kicked her shoes off and climbed next to her mother. Momma closed her book and put it away, smiling somewhat weakly at her oldest daughter.

"This event always gets me so worked up," she admitted.

Elphaba snorted. "Who would've known?"

But her mother shook her head and placed her hands on Elphaba's wrists, drawing her closer into her arms.

"No, you don't understand," she said gently and rested her chin on Elphaba's parting. "There's this pressure on me when they're here; to be the perfect mother, the perfect wife, the perfect daughter-in-law... and I know I'm not, but I'm trying-"

Elphaba raised an eyebrow. "You are a perfect mum, Momma. And of course, I can't be sure about the 'daughter-in-law'-part, but you're doing your very best, and they are just crazy."

She felt her mother's fingers in her hair, stroking through the long black curls before once stroking over her green cheek.

"Oh, Fabala," said Momma quietly.

And then... nothing more.

For some time, mother and daughter just listened to the crackling of the fire and the hissing of the burning coals.

Then Momma said, "I actually meant to talk to you about Lurlinemas eve."

Elphaba's brows knit in confusion. "Lurlinemas eve? What about Lurlinemas- Oh."

She turned and locked eyes with her mother, hers a little bit more widened than Momma's.

"We don't have to talk about it," she said quietly, but she could feel her mother shake her head.

"No, dear, I want to talk to you," said Momma and slowly began to stroke over Elphaba's arm -up and down and up and down and up again.

"I understand that you feel a little bit left out. It's only natural."

Slowly, Elphaba cuddled closer as if trying to hide from the conversation.

"I have not yet talked with your father about it because I wanted to talk to you at first."

The green girl shook her head. "No, you don't have to-it's a waste of time. I don't need such shoes; I clash with everything."

It was a sorry attempt at lifting the mood, she knew; her voice had trembled the whole time.

"Elphaba, that's not true," said Momma.

Elphaba felt her arms tighten around her just the slightest bit, and she let her forehead sink against her mother's collarbone.

"Of course, I was... angry," she said after a few seconds. "Sad, maybe. I mean... I got a book and Nessa got jewelled shoes, for goodness sake. It's not that I'm not content with a book -I love books- but..."

"But he got Nessa jewelled shoes," Momma finished, and her finger trailed across the bridge of Elphaba's nose.

The green girl's eyes closed for a split second, and when she opened them again, a faint shimmer of tears was to see.

Momma sighed deeply.

Her finger had stopped, and she let her hand sink to her side.

"Does he not love me as much?" Elphaba whispered.

Her mother's eyes widened in dismay. "No."

And again; "No, Elphaba, that's not it. He loves you -and very much so."

The green girl knit her brows just the slightest bit. "...But?"

"I-," Momma bit her lower lip. "I-"

And Elphaba lowered her head and whispered, "It's the green, isn't it? He never got over the shock."