Chapter Five

Dancing on Thin Ice

Thank you guys for the response, it means so much to me! I am going to go through with this story, I swear. However, January is a crazy month so I can't promise frequent updates anymore. You are all amazing for staying with me and this story though! I only wish I would have started it earlier so that I could have it done when everyone is still in the Christmas spirit, but what can you do? I promise Jeffrey will be in the next chapter, but this one is all about family :)

I don't own the Penderwicks.

Batty pulled her coat tighter around herself to protect against the cold wind. She stumbled a bit over her own feet in her too big boots. She kept hearing Skye's voice in her head. "She loved us so much she died for us. She died giving birth to Batty. She loved us."

Batty scrubbed at her face with her mittens, trying to dry her tears. She would not cry. Batty pushed her way under the hedge tunnel and came upon two sets of footprints in the snow. One set was heavy and big, the other small and graceful. Batty decided to follow them around the hedges that sagged under the weight of snow and around the thunderbolt man. She thought she lost the footprints at this point and tears were threatening once more when she spotted Rosalind just across the frog pond.

She was… dancing. With Cagney! They were standing in a… what was the word… Kazeebo? They were standing in a kazeebo that was covered in a million little lights and they were dancing to music that only they could hear. Batty was relieved that Rosalind wasn't crying anymore, but she was close to crying herself. She had to get to Rosalind. The frog pond was frozen over. It would be a short cut to her sister. It would be like ice skating.

Jane was lost in thought as she traced her and Jeffrey's footprints back to cottage. She was thinking about Jeffrey and Skye. Skye would kill her if she ever found out what exactly she had just told Jeffrey, but Jane knew it was true. Skye always scoffed at the idea of love, but the walls around her heart, sky high and painted blue, were just a façade, an optical illusion. She had a way of making you think that she was invincible, that she needed no one else, but Jane saw through it in a way only a sister could. Everybody needs somebody.

Jane was so far gone in her poetic musing of love, she almost didn't hear the scream. It was coming from the gardens and it was unmistakably her little sister. Jane didn't think. She ran, following her instincts to where she guessed the might find Batty.

Jane had come to know the Arundel gardens well. She could have found her way through them in the dark. She dove under bushes, hurdled flower beds, and skidded around the thunderbolt man so fast that she thought she might have literally left burn marks on the ground.

When she arrived at the frog pond, the scene in front of her unfolded in slow motion. Batty was in the middle of the pond with only her head and arms visible from the hole in the ice that she had evidently fallen through. Her little skinny arms were keeping her from completely falling in, but she was slipping. Jane also saw Rosalind across the pond standing next to Cagney in the gazebo. You could see her, trying to understand what exactly had happened, and then a look of recognition and fear darkened her features. Their eyes met for a brief second as time stopped and Jane could hear nothing but her heart beat against her ribcage.

Time collapsed in on itself.

Rosalind ran down the steps of the gazebo and Jane sprinted forward, reaching the pond before anyone else. Jane fell on her hand and knees and inched forward on the ice on all fours to distribute her weight, because she and Skye watched a documentary once where the guy did this. Jane could tell that the ice below her was very thin. She edged forward slowly, picking up speed as she gained confidence.

Confidence became overconfidence.

The ice by her right hand cracked and opened up in a wide gash. Jane got an uncomfortably cold hand and a humbling dose of fear that tasted acidic on her tongue. Batty's eyes were watering.

"Jane," she whimpered.

"It's ok," Jane said, much more confidently then she felt. She steadied herself and slid forward.

"I was just trying to get to Rosalind in the kazeebo," said Batty, slipping even more as she tried desperately to explain her position to Jane.

"Gazebo," Jane corrected through teeth clenched in concentration. Even under these circumstances she would not let her sister have bad pronunciation. "Calm down ok? Focus on holding on."

Jane managed to reach Batty, only to find that getting her out of the hole in the ice would be harder than she originally thought. She shifted her weight forward so that she could reach down towards her. The ice groaned but, miraculously, held. It was an ungraceful maneuver, but Jane was able to pull her sister from the hole by the back of her sopping wet jacket. Except for one boot that was lost somewhere beneath the ice (at least until spring), Batty seemed to be all in one piece. Jane took her hand, now as cold as the ice they were lying on. "Let's go home," she said.

Cagney scooped up Batty as soon as they had crawled within arm's reach. Rosalind pulled Jane to her feet and wrapped Cagney's long, black coat that she had been wearing around Jane's shoulders. The four started for the cottage, Cagney carrying Batty and Rosalind supporting Jane with an arm around her shoulders. They were moving as quickly as Cagney could without jostling the little girl too much. Seeing him carry Batty gave Rosalind an odd sensation that was something like déjà vu.

Skye came running out of the house when they drew near, having seen the distraught group from her window. She was shouting incoherently. As she came upon them, they realized her shouting was a series of rapid fire questions.

"Is she ok?"

"What happened?"

"Why is she wet?"

Jane stepped forward and embraced Skye, stopping her questions for a moment by catching her off guard. "She is fine," Jane said, still clinging tightly to her. In the rush of the moment, Jane had felt invincible, running on adrenaline. But from now on she would leave the heroic, fearless deeds to Skye.

Iantha, Daddy, and Tommy came rushing out then too, undoubtedly alerted to the matter by Skye's shouting. They crowed around Cagney as he kept pushing toward the cottage. Once they were all inside, Cagney gently laid Batty down on the couch and backed up as the family descended around her. Skye knelt by her side but Batty spoke first.

"Skye, is it my fault that Mommy died?" she asked in a small voice.

"No," Skye said firmly. "None of this is your fault."

"But you said…"

"I know what I said. I didn't mean it. I was just angry ok?" Skye said. Her voice was trembling and tears stung the corners of her eyes. Skye felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She glanced back. Iantha.

"I didn't mean it," she whispered again. Iantha squeezed her shoulder.

It was a night of growing back together. Skye and Jane helped Iantha make dinner. They made pancakes, at Batty's request. It wasn't long before raucous laughter could be heard in the kitchen. Rosalind stayed close to Batty the entire night as they watched old Disney movies on VCR. Batty curled up next to her on the old, squishy couch and laid her head on Rosalind's lap. Batty watched out of the corner of her eye when Tommy sat down on the other side of Rosalind. He put an arm carefully around her shoulders and Rosalind leaned against him slightly. Batty smiled when Tommy did. Mr. Penderwick had settled in the easy chair with his paper, peeking over the top of it every once and a while as if to make sure they were all still there.

Skye was lying on her back on her bed staring at the shadows dancing around on the ceiling. She was waiting for Rosalind, who was putting Batty to bed. It was taking her a while. Skye guess that Batty had probably asked for extra bedtime stories. After a night like this one, there is no way Rosalind would say no. There was a click of the door opening, and the room was flooded briefly with warm light from the hall. Rosalind's slender silhouette stepped into the room and then the room was plunged back into darkness, with only the pale blue moonlight filtering through the curtains to light Rosalind's way.

Skye lay very still pretending to be asleep as she waited for Rosalind to reach her own bed. Once she did, Rosalind shifted around for a moment, trying to get comfortable, and then she was still. Skye counted her breaths. It was a habit of hers, but usually it was Jane's breaths that she was counting.

1…2…3… Skye couldn't keep herself focused long enough to even count. Her mind was racing. 4…5… She gave up.

"Rosy?" she whispered into the dark.

"Hmmm?" Rosalind hummed.

"Is Batty ok?" Skye asked.

"She is fine."

Skye was relieved, but still felt guilty. "Rosy?"

"Hmmm?"

"Can I sleep with you?" Skye hadn't asked to do that since she was five. Skye heard Rosalind roll over to face her.

"Yes," she said.

Skye crawled out of bed and ran through the pools of moonlight on the floor to Rosalind's bed. Rosalind slid over obediently and Skye crawled in. They laid shoulder to shoulder in the silence that Rosalind knew wouldn't last for long. Sure enough...

"I am sorry, Rosy," Skye said, in an uncharacteristically small voice.

She felt Rosalind roll over onto her side to face her. Skye did the same. They were lying so close, their noses were almost touching. Skye's slender features were highlighted by the moonlight in ways that remind Rosalind of her mother more than ever.

Her mother liked the stars just like Skye does. Rosalind remembered looking out her window when she was supposed to be in bed and seeing her mother standing out on the back porch, her face tilted up towards the sky looking much like Skye does now in the pale moonlight.

"You shouldn't be saying sorry to me," Rosalind whispered.

"I know I need to apologize to Iantha." Skye sighed. "I just… I miss Mom, Rosy."

Now it was Rosalind's turn to sigh. "Skye, I know. So do I. But Iantha is the greatest stepmother anyone can ever ask for. She was just trying to bring back Mom's memory."

"She can't bring her back!" Skye said, too loudly. Her voice sounded out of place in the otherwise silent house.

"No," said Rosalind patiently. "But memories are all we have left. While they can't bring someone back to us, they keep that person alive in our hearts," she said. She sounded very old. "People are finite. They live and they die; some sooner that we hope. And all that is left is the memory people have of them. That memory is the closest we as humans will ever come to being infinite. So that's why we have to keep remembering, even when it hurts."

Skye was silent for a long time. "You sound like Jane," she said finally.

Rosalind flopped onto her back, exasperated, and gave Skye a bump with her shoulder. "I thought it sounded good," she said defensively, but Skye could hear a smile behind her words.

"It did," Skye said, and she meant it. Infinity was a concept Skye did a great deal of thinking about, and thinking about her mother as infinite made her feel a little better.

Rosalind was just starting to drift off to sleep when Skye spoke again.

"I am just really bad at letting people in."

Rosalind laughed fondly. "You aren't the most open person in the world, no."

Skye was quiet again, so Rosy closed her eyes for a second time.

"It's just the more you let them in the more it's going to hurt when they walk away, you know?" Skye said. Her voice was cracking. Skye was in a rare and rather vulnerable form. Rosalind gave up trying to sleep and she shifted over so she was facing Skye again.

"I mean that's why I punch every boy in the face that tries to kiss me," Skye said. She was on a roll, so Rosalind kept quiet and just listened. "I am scared to let people in because I am scared they are going to leave like Mom left."

Skye was a little mortified to have said all that, but a little more relieved. She looked over at Rosalind, who was at a complete loss as to what to say. Rosalind realized that while she had become quite good at comforting Jane and Batty and Ben and prided herself in this, she had no clue how to comfort Skye.

She settled on pulling Skye against her in hug, despite Skye's usual aversion of such displays of physical affection. She wasn't being herself at the moment anyway. Skye didn't pull away. Rosalind was thinking about her mother and about Skye socking all sorts of poor boys in the nose, and a small, playful smiled pulled at her lips.

"Skye, why haven't you punched Jeffrey yet?" she asked.

Skye snorted. "Well he hasn't tried to kiss me yet, has he?" she said. She meant it sarcastically, but Rosalind just bobbed her shoulders.

"I don't know, has he?" she asked.

"No!" Skye exploded. "Why would you ask that?" she hissed. Rosalind was giggling as Skye smoldered.

"Aw come on Skye, he has had a crush on you for years," she said. Here, Skye faltered a bit, forgetting to glower threateningly and instead just looking like… well like she had been hit by a truck. "And you are totally smitten," Rosalind added. That brought Skye back. She glared impressively.

"I have never been smitten over anything in my whole life," she said. "Especially boys. Especially Jeffrey."

"You don't have any feeling for him at all? Not even really tiny feelings?"

"Rosalind," Skye groaned. She ignored the questions and the new, unwelcome feeling that settled in her stomach like a bowling ball.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Skye was grateful. There was a click, and a sliver of light shot across the room shining in Skye's eyes. Then Jane's shadow filled the crack between the door and door frame and another little shadow peaked out from around her waist. Batty.

"Can we sleep with you, Rosalind?" asked Jane. Batty was nodding vigorously. "Oh, you and Skye," Jane amended, noticing the second sister already there.

"Of course," Rosalind said, and the two sisters raced to the bed. Jane crawled in next to Skye, and Batty climbed over so she could settle in right between Skye and Rosalind. Batty curled up between them, resting her head against Skye's shoulder. Skye looked surprised and unsure of herself when she gently wrapped and arm around her littlest sister. Rosalind smiled at Skye over Batty's head before she closed her eyes. She was just dozing off for the third time that night, when there was yet another knock on the door.

"Who is it?" Rosalind asked, confused. She was fairly certain she didn't have any more sisters that might want to crawl in with her. Light appeared in the doorway again, and another shadow filled to space. Iantha.

"Are you girls asleep?" she whispered.

"Not yet," said Rosalind.

Iantha slipped into the room, not bothering to close the door behind her, and she sat down on the edge of the bed looking down at her four girls.

Skye shifted a little uncomfortably. "I am sorry!" she said quickly, before Iantha could say anything. Her voice was still so small. "I didn't mean the things I said. I was just upset because I felt like you were trying to take her place. I mean you weren't… I wasn't being gentlemanly. Or kind. Or fair…" Skye was rambling in a very Jane-like fashion. Iantha cut her off.

"I understand Skye," Iantha said gently. The tension in Skye's shoulders relaxed. "I don't ever want you girls to think I am trying to take her place, ok? She sounds like she was an incredible mother. I don't want to try to replace that."

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the sound of five girls breathing softly. It was Batty that finally spoke. "You are an incredible mother too." All the girls agreed.

Mr. Penderwick watched on fondly through the slightly opened door. Iantha pulled their daughters into a bear hug. They were giggling and kind of crying, but the tears were happy. His five girls.

"Oh Elizabeth," he whispered, tilting his head upwards, where he imagined she was watching. "If only you could see these girls now." Perhaps she could.

Hound's big shaggy head bumped into the back of his knee. Mr. Penderwick gave him a fond scratch behind the ears.

"Bene est omnibus," he said to Hound, who wagged his tail happily in response.

All is well.