Louise had returned to Montgomery just before school started. She felt guiltier this time, especially as Jem and Scout would beg for her to stay at any chance they could. Two days after her argument with Alexandra, when she had announced she was going back home, the woman seemed to actually relax. Louise thought that maybe she should be offended, but she was personally overjoyed at the fact that she wouldn't have to spend every day with the woman anymore.
If Atticus had known what Louise had said to his sister, he didn't mention it. He was polite as ever to Louise, which made her feel relieved. She had grown to have a tremendous amount of respect for her brother-in-law and thought that she would be devastated if he thought lowly of her. When she had told him she was leaving he had smiled at her, told her she would be missed and expressed his hope that she'd come again soon. She had promised both him and herself that she would be back next summer, before his trial.
The days leading up to her return to Montgomery seemed to have flown by. It seemed as though she had closed her eyes for a second and it was nearly September and time for her to leave. As she kissed Jem and Scout goodbye, she noticed the solemn looks on their faces. "What's the matter?" She asked, trying to sound playful. "Why, time's gonna go by so fast it'll be Christmas before you know it."
"You'll come back, right?" Jem asked softly.
"We don't want Aunty to scare you away." Scout added meekly.
Louise sighed. "Guys, I'll be back livin' with you next summer." She assured them, though they didn't look relieved when she told them.
"We just don't want to be left alone with her," Scout whispered.
"Honey, you two just mind your Aunty, okay? If ya'll work together, it won't be so bad." Louise said, kissing them both again.
The entire train ride Louise was wracked with guilt. She wondered if she should have just swallowed her pride and stay in Maycomb, but then she thought that maybe the children would get along better with Alexandra if she wasn't there. Maybe by the time Louise came next summer, Jem and Scout's relations with their other aunt would have improved. Louise couldn't help but to doubt that.
When Louise slouched herself on the sofa in her mother's living room and helped herself to a cigarette, it was almost as if Edie knew her daughter was fretting about something.
"What's the matter?" Edie asked, staring at her daughter over the rims of her reading glasses. To Louise, those glasses were the only sign that her mother was getting older. At least it was better than her squinting at everything.
"Nothin'." Louise replied shortly, exhaling smoke into the air.
"You almost look as poorly as you did when Jean told you not to marry Phil." Edie said casually, making Louise want to cringe. "Now I know you're a generally agitated person, but not this agitated."
Louise shot her mother a quick glare. "I guess I'm just feelin' guilty about leavin' Maycomb, the children looked mighty upset when I left."
"Soon they're going to be so old that we won't be able to refer to them as the children anymore." Edie thought aloud. "Don't they get upset every time you leave?"
"Yes, but this time Alexandra's there."
"Well, I've always thought she was a nice lady."
"I might've gotten into a quarrel with her." Louise informed her mother, who sat up straighter.
"About what?"
"About how she treats the children."
"What does she do to my grandbabies?" Edie asked, her tone becoming harsher. Lighting a second cigarette, Louise sighed.
"Listen, Edie, she goes around tellin' the children these stories about their Finch ancestors and how they're such fine people and that Jem and Scout are ruinin' the Finch name by misbehavin'—"
"Who is she observing because my grandchildren are quite fine—"
"Exactly! And she goes round tellin' them that they need to be these perfect little beams of light for their daddy's lonely life—"
"He's not lonely, he's got them! It's his choice not to remarry—"
"And she treated me like I was a feral child or somethin' and spoke down to me all the time," Louise continued, crossing her arms. "One day Jem was so upset because havin' Alexandra there made him miss Jean more because Alexandra completely disregards that Jean even existed and he, as well as the entire town, believes that Alexandra didn't even like Jean."
By now, Edie looked furious. "My Eugenia did nothing to that woman," she said as she pursed her lips. "My poor grandchildren." She muttered, shaking her head.
Louise sighed impatiently and sunk deeper into the couch, focusing her attention on squashing her cigarette in the ashtray. "Eug…Louise, if you let that woman dominate how you live in Maycomb, you might as well throw yourself in front of Atticus' front door and be used as a doormat." Edie said, crossing her arms. "I never thought you were one to do that."
Louise sat up. "I am not Alexandra Hancock's doormat." She said stubbornly.
"You let her chase you outta there," Edie replied, looking cross. "Jem and Scout are just as much your family as they are hers."
"I always come home." Louise pointed out.
"You come home on your terms, you never look depressed when you return." Edie pointed out. "Why, I didn't think you were the type to let someone control you."
"Edie, your stark mad." Louise said, lighting another cigarette out of habit.
"Honey, I'm just tellin' you what you're too afraid to admit yourself." Edie retorted. "You sure as well know that you would be fine there if you minded your own biscuits and Alexandra minded hers—"
"You're really prophetic, mother."
"I'm sayin' the truth! It's about time you listen to me."
"When you start making allusions to food, you can't help but to lose me."
"You're stubborn, that's what you are."
"I wonder who I get it from." Louise smirked, blowing another puff of smoke into the air.
"You need to stop smokin' those things." Edie said as she picked up the book that was sitting next to her and looked away from her daughter.
"I will when you do, Edie." Louise said, still smirking. Edie, still not looking at Louise, simply shook her head.
-o-o-o-
Months passed, and Louise remained in Montgomery. Once a week she would call Maycomb to talk to Jem and Scout, and consistently promised that she would definitely arrive again at the beginning of the summer. She needed time away from Alexandra, and she decided that this time she needed time to figure her life out. It was a little over three years since she had returned home from Europe, so Louise decided that she needed to make something of herself. Since she came back to Alabama, it had seemed as though she was almost living her life in limbo—shuttling herself back and forth from Montgomery to Maycomb, but not actually doing anything.
Instead of spending her time with the stay-at-home wives she had once known during her youth, Louise would go to the city during the day in an attempt to find something to do with herself. After a couple of weeks of unsuccessful attempts, Harriet allowed her older sister to come to work with her to assist with some of the duties at her husband's office. Louise had been quite grateful that she had learned how to use a typewriter when she was younger, because it made her quite successful at the tasks assigned to her in her new setting.
Since she was accepted into the office out of pity (though Louise refused to acknowledge that) rather than necessity, she didn't work every day. Though Louise would have preferred something more consistent, she was grateful to have something to do besides follow Edie around on the various errands she did each day. When she didn't work, she spent her time in the city, reading or finding something else to occupy the copious amounts of free time she had. It was when she was stuck doing nothing that she thought that perhaps she should've stayed in Maycomb—at least then she'd have the children to make her feel more useful and not like a burden.
But at the same time, Louise was almost certain that she wasn't quite ready to return to Maycomb just yet. Being there with the children and Atticus was almost like being with Jean again, but being there was also a surreal experience for her. For the past three years she had perpetually been a guest, with nothing expected of her (except if one took Alexandra's standards into consideration) and no real responsibilities. She enjoyed the freedom granted to her to be able to do what she pleased with Jem and Scout, but at the same time she felt as though she were a child again. Despite the fact that her days in Montgomery had quickly become predictable, at least she was treated as an adult. She steadily decided that she would return to Maycomb in the summer, where she would arrive feeling productive and like the adult she was.
Summer progressed into fall (though the weather had not changed much since when Louise first arrived home), and Louise thought that finally, after years of feeling restless, that maybe she was finally settling herself down in her own unique way. One unusually crisp November morning, Louise sat on a bench in the park that she used to play in as a child (the fact that it had hardly changed made her anxious and feel as though she had gone back in time), reading a book she had taken out at the library. When somebody sat next to her, she didn't think much of it and didn't look at the person. She spent many a day there, and found that mother's frequently took their toddlers out to play to prevent them from being restless at home.
"Louise?" An unfamiliar voice asked, prompting her to close her book. "Louise Graham?"
Quickly, she turned her head. Though he had gained some weight and looked older, she could recognize Emmett anywhere. Awkwardly, she smiled at him. "Hey, Emmett." She replied, setting the book in between them.
"You hardly look different."
"Neither do you."
"I wasn't aware you were still livin' in Montgomery."
"I've been goin' back and forth from Maycomb to here." She replied dully.
"What's Maycomb?" He asked, almost making her laugh. However, she quickly came to realize that if you weren't from the county, you wouldn't really know about its existence.
"It's where Jean moved," Louise informed him. "I go there in the summers to see her children."
He was silent for a moment, and made her feel incredibly awkward as he sat there smiling at her. The Emmett she remembered from her youth hardly ever smiled (he was too above that or something stupid), and the fact that they were sitting here at the park that they all used to play in as children simply made her feel weird. "Those are my two," he said, nodding his head towards the little boys playing by the slide. Louise thought they must've been no older than three years old. "I've got three more, but they're all in school." He informed her.
"They're cute," she replied, though she wasn't entirely sure she meant it. Unless it was members of her own family, Louise wasn't entirely interested in children.
"You got kids?"
"Nope."
"You married?"
"I was."
He smirked and nudged her with his elbow. "Let me guess, you realized marriage wasn't your cup of tea and divorced the poor sucker." He assumed. She immediately tried to hide her scowl.
"Actually," she said sharply. "He shot himself in our bedroom."
The smile that had once been on his face immediately fell. "Damn, Louise." He said, rubbing at his shoulder as though she had punched him. "I'm real sorry."
"It's fine," she said honestly. "It was years ago."
"Was it before or after—"
"It was after Jean died."
"Damn," he said again, looking sad. "You didn't even have her to talk to."
"She wouldn't have brought him back." She said, feeling increasingly bitter.
"I can't believe she's dead," Emmet said, shaking his head. "I had moved to Georgia for work for a while, but once my mama got sick I came back here. When Harriet told me she had died, I just about died of shock."
"It was a surprise to us all," Louise assured him, wondering when he would leave her alone.
"I swore I was goin' to marry her," He said, shaking his head. "It's funny how things change. I heard she married some old man."
"He's not that old," Louise found herself saying. "And honestly, even if she hadn't met Atticus she wouldn't have married you."
"Why's that?"
"She never loved you." Louise said coolly, leaving Emmett looking shocked. "You just occupied her time."
"You're still as harsh as ever." Emmett said, trying to smile at her.
"I'm not harsh," she said coolly. "I'm just truthful."
"Was she happy?" He asked after a few minutes, his expression serious.
"Very," Louise replied dryly.
"I feel bad for those children of hers," Emmett sighed. "For losin' their mama so soon."
"We all do, honey."
-o-o-o-
When she first returned to Montgomery, she had the plan of immersing herself in different things in order to make miss Maycomb, to make her want to come back despite the fact that she would still be required to cohabitate with Alexandra. Thankfully, by the time June had come around, Louise had found her plan had worked. When the office she volunteered at no longer needed her services and she had grown tired of sitting at the park reading, Louise was more than ready to take the train back to Maycomb.
As she watched the landscape quickly pass by her during her train ride, she wondered how long she would be doing this, and wondered if she would spend the rest of her life traveling back and forth from Montgomery to Maycomb. Maybe, after a while, she'd go back to France and spend the rest of her life there, virtually a stranger to everyone she crossed. Maybe she'd pack up her stuff, move to Paris and become a writer. Hell, anyone could do it. Maybe she'd write satirical pieces about the people she met while she made a life of traveling. It might be nice, she thought to herself. She could make a life of doing whatever she wanted.
But for now, she had to focus on what was immediately in front of her: Jem and Scout. They still needed her. Especially now, with their father's trial coming so soon and with Alexandra and her expectations looming over them day after day. Despite those heavy factors, Louise was determined to be the same optimistic presence for the children, as she had been for the past three years.
Unsurprisingly, Jem and Scout were absolutely delighted by the fact that their aunt had returned to them. As it turned out, Dill would be spending another summer away from Maycomb and with his family. Because of the previous summer, Jem and Scout had grown accustomed to his absence and found a way to manager through their summer without him. Fittingly, Louise took his place in all of Jem and Scout's usual games. She could sense that Alexandra did not approve, but the woman never said anything. While relations were cordial between Louise and Alexandra, there was still a tense air whenever the pair was in a room together.
"Do you and Aunty hate each other?" Scout asked one day as the three of them walked to the Barker's Eddy.
"Of course not," Louise said briskly.
"It seems like you do," Scout pointed out, making Louise furrow her eyebrows. Had it been that obvious?
"No," Louise rejected, shaking her head. "Your Aunty and I are just fine."
"It don't seem that way."
"Y'all are just too young." Louise replied.
"Heck, I'll be thirteen in November!" Jem pointed out animatedly, making Louise feel old.
"It don't make a difference." Louise told him. "Ladies are a completely different cup of tea."
"Ladies make everything a mess," Jem said, scowling. Louise couldn't help but to laugh at him.
"Unfortunately, that is the truth, honey." Louise smirked.
"Well good thing I ain't a lady," Scout said, crossing her arms.
"You'll still manage to make a mess of things." Jem teased.
"He-ey." Scout chimed, scowling at her brother. "Did mama ever make a mess of things?"
Louise thought for a moment, and then smiled at her niece. "Now, she wasn't a Stephanie Crawford," Louise began. "But she did have a rivalry with one of the girls in our neighborhood."
Jem and Scout both laughed. "Whaddya mean?" Scout asked, still giggling to herself. By now, the three of them had arrived to the Eddy and were in the process of setting towels down on the ground. Due to the heat, the water bank was a little busy, so the three of them decided to sit for a while.
"Well, there was this girl named Alice who lived in our neighborhood who was the same exact age as your mama," Louise informed Jem and Scout, who were watching her eagerly. "And the two of them were always being compared to one another by the older ladies in town so it was like they were always in a competition with one another. One time your mama snuck some liquid soap into her punch bowl when Alice had all of the ladies in our neighborhood over for brunch, and when they were kids Alice accidentally cut your mama's hair one summer."
Jem and Scout laughed again. "Mama really put soap in her punch?" Jem asked, sounding surprised.
"Honey, she might've seemed like it, but your mama was no saint." Louise grinned. "The ladies in our neighborhood spent a week talkin' about how your mama's punch was better, so she was mighty proud of herself." As she said this, she thought of Alice, who still lived in the same neighborhood after all of these years. Louise had seen her once or twice in the past couple of years, and each time she saw the woman, Alice would always shake her head and say what a shame it was that Jean was gone.
"She seemed like a real trickster," Scout said proudly as she spread herself out on the towel. Louise smiled to herself—at least Scout would know her mother through the stories she shared.
-o-o-o-
Evidentially, Dill was not having as good of a summer as he had lead the Finch's to believe. Somehow the boy had managed to travel from Mississippi to Maycomb all on his own, and hid under Scout's bed until he was discovered by both of the children. Despite the fact that this probably wasn't behavior that should be applauded, Louise couldn't help but to be impressed by the boy's determination. Though she only spent a short amount of time with him, she couldn't help but to be fond of Dill. He was a sharp young thing who seemed more like a forty year old stuck in a child's body. Louise couldn't help but to appreciate that.
Shortly after Dill's arrival, it was discovered that Tom Robinson was going to be moved to the county jail. While Louise didn't know the man personally, she felt like she had from all of the information Atticus shared about him. When Atticus had learned that Tom may face some danger from mob activity, he decided that he was going to spend the night watching over him. Louise had offered to keep him company since it would be an all-night job (and she didn't admit to him that she was in fact worried for his safety), but he adamantly declined. This was his responsibility, he explained to her. Also, as if he was reading her mind, he informed her that she didn't need to worry one bit about him, he knew what he was doing. Regardless, Louise worried anyway. She couldn't help but to figure that if Jean were alive, she'd be worried sick about her husband, and since Jean wasn't there to do the worrying, it was the least Louise could do.
While Louise still considered Jem and Scout were still children, they were getting older. They couldn't really be regarded as the babies that Louise had implanted in her memory. They were older now, and smart as hell. Despite the fact that Louise, and all of the other adults in their lives, tried to shield them from what was happening as the trial came closer. One day, as Louise was attempting to act as though everything was still normal, she realized that Jean would have probably been upfront with her children rather than trying to sugarcoat the truth. With the trial less than a week away, Louise decided that she wasn't going to pretend any longer.
"Listen here," Louise said in a hushed tone as she lazily swung herself and Scout on the tire swing. Jem and Dill were sitting in the treehouse, a pile of magazines sitting between them.
"What, Aunt Lou?" Jem asked, almost sounding concerned.
"In the next comin' days you're going to see some ugly things." Louise said simply as she ran her fingers through Scout's growing hair.
"Do you mean the trial?" Jem asked. "'Cause that's been ugly for a while."
"It's hard to believe, but it'll get worse, sweet." Louise said, sighing.
"How?" Scout asked, and at this point all three children were looking at her with perplexed expressions.
"It's hard to explain, especially since your daddy is the way he is—"
"Is that a bad thing?" Scout asked.
"No," Louise said firmly. "Not in the slightest, but other people don't see it that way. They're gonna throw a lot of nastiness towards y'all and especially Atticus."
"Well, what should we do?" Jem asked, furrowing his brow.
Louise sighed, and thought how Edie would give her a sick look of satisfaction if she heard what Louise was going to say. "You just need to keep your chins up and mind your own biscuits." Jem, Dill and Scout all looked at her as if she was a crazy old lady. "It'll show that y'all are the bigger person, even when everyone else is being petty."
"I don't think Atticus will have a problem." Jem said, shrugging. "He usually wins most of his cases."
Louise frowned. At that moment it dawned on her that Atticus had raised his children to be ahead of their time. When other people focused on race and discrimination, Jem and Scout were color-blind. Despite their intellect, they didn't fully understand the names Atticus was being called and the entire circumstances of the case. She felt guilty for not knowing how to prepare the children for the worst—that Atticus may not win, and would probably get a lot of backlash even when he lost. Sadly, Louise smiled up at her nephew. "We just need to hope for the best, honey."
The best didn't happen. While Alexandra had opted to stay home on the day of the trial, Louise put on one of her best dresses and went to town as early as possible to get a good seat. She usually wasn't one to feed into such fanatics that were being displayed, but she thought that maybe it would be nice for her to silently support Atticus while he attempted to defend this man. She found herself wondering if Jean would've sat strongly behind her husband while he faced probably one of the toughest trials of his life. Louise liked to think that she would have.
The trial was long and awful. She wanted to cringe when both Bob and Mayella Ewell were called upon to testify. Louise wasn't usually one to look down on people, but there just was something that wasn't right with that family. What made matters worse was that she was quite certain that nobody else saw this, and that the whole town was probably convinced that this family was telling the truth. Even before the trial began, Louise knew that Atticus was going to lose this case—she didn't expect it to be so excruciating, though. By the time Tom Robinson was called upon the stand, Louise had almost completely resigned herself, there was no point in getting any of her hopes up.
She hadn't realized the children had snuck in until Cal came looking for them. When Atticus told them they could return to hear the verdict, Louise felt a strange flood of emotions. Part of her was glad they'd be able to see it first-hand, to get a taste of the circumstances themselves. But the other part of her thought they were too young for this, most certainly this could break their hearts. But Atticus was their father, and it was obvious that he had a plan when it came to allowing his children to watch the verdict being announced.
But that didn't stop it from breaking Louise's heart.
Louise knew he was going to lose, and had been able to prepare herself and anticipate it. What she hadn't been able to prepare herself for was Jem's reaction. Louise figured Scout was still just a tad too young to understand the implications of that trial, but Jem wasn't. As Louise looked up at the colored balcony at her niece and nephew, she saw Jem crying. She knew at that moment Jem had probably aged ten years, but her heart still broke because to her he was still that little baby she would bounce on her knee or toss in the air (to the displeasure of Jean). Now, he was forced to face some of life's most unpleasant moments.
She followed behind Atticus as he left the courthouse, and together they waited for the children.
"Atticus," she said, clearing her throat.
"You don't need to say anything." He told her with a small smile on his face.
"You did an awfully good job in there, I was quite impressed." She said, trying to force a smile.
"I appreciate it, Lou."
"Jean would be proud, too." She said. She felt her cheeks flush when he looked away, a somber expression on his face.
Before either of them could say anything else, the children had caught up to them. All of them looked subdued, but it was obvious that Jem was the most affected by this. "It ain't right," Louise heard him mumble, and her heart broke even more.
She had followed Jem inside, but didn't go to his room with him. Alexandra was diligently sitting in the living room, working on another rug. She was still dressed as though it was daylight, and actually looked worried. "I heard of the verdict," she said quietly as Louise looked around the living room.
"It was a right old shame." Louise said.
"Is Jem alright?" Alexandra asked, and for some reason Louise was surprised by the fact that Alexandra actually seemed to care.
"He's learned a rough lesson," she explained. "But one that needed to be learned."
Scout was the next to come in. Tiredly, she rubbed at her eyes and bid both of her aunt's goodnight. "Goodnight, sweet." Alexandra said in response as Atticus entered the room.
"I'm going to sleep," he announced as he started to walk down the hallway. "If I'm not up tomorrow, don't call for me." He added quickly, making Alexandra inhale sharply.
As Louise followed Scout into her room, she swore she could've heard Alexandra say: "my poor brother" in a sad tone.
Scout sprawled out on her bed, looking at a magazine Dill had left the day before. "Aunt Lou?" She asked, not looking up at Louise.
"Yes, dear?"
"Why was Jem cryin'?"
Jean sat on the foot of the bed and rested her hand on Scout's head. She wondered when Scout would stop liking when Louise did that. "Honey, what happened today was awful." Louise said seriously.
"Why?"
"Because that man was innocent, sweet."
"Then why did they say he was guilty?"
"Because people," she paused, inhaled slowly and wished she had a cigarette. "Because people aren't too kind to those who aren't like them."
"I don't understand," Scout said, scowling. "Atticus an' Jem say there's only one type of people, and that's people, so why doesn't everyone else understand that?"
"Because people aren't colorblind like you are, sweet." She said grimly.
"What do you mean by that?"
"You'll understand one day." Louise sighed.
"Was mama colorblind like me?" Scout said, tossing the magazine to the ground.
"Your mama tried her best to love everyone, just like your daddy does." Louise told her.
"Well, I think that's awful nice."
"I'm glad someone does." Louise smiled.
"Do you think mama would've cried like Jem did?"
"Not in front of your daddy, she wouldn't let him see that."
"Was she shy?"
"She would want to be a pillar for him." Louise explained.
"A pillar of what?"
"Baby, your daddy is very tired by this. Your mama would've wanted to be a pillar of strength for him so it wouldn't be so hard on him." Louise told her, and Scout began to look sad. "Sweet, what's wrong?"
"Well, with mama not here, Atticus doesn't have a pillar."
"You're wrong, sweet. He's got two strong pillars standing on either side of him." Louise said, a smile growing on her face.
"Who's that?"
"Why, you and your brother of course." Louise said as a smile grew on Scout's face.
-o-o-o-
Even after the trial, things were still hard on Atticus. At first, he thought that he had the possibility of getting an appeal, that maybe Tom would have a second chance to prove himself innocent. Unfortunately for Tom, he had given up. He tried to escape the jail, and met his fate. There would be no appeal, and Tom would forever be seen as guilty. It was surprising how Louise and Alexandra had been able to forget their tension over their mutual sense of anxiety over Atticus. While the ladies weren't the best of friends, they put aside their differences to discuss the death threats that Atticus had received from Bob Ewell. Just because Atticus didn't take them seriously didn't mean that Alexandra and Louise could take it lightly. Despite the fact that they had his best interests in heart, Louise could sense that their anxiety was making him frustrated. After all, he hated it when the women in his life were constantly fretting—and having two of them under his roof probably didn't make him feel any better.
Despite the fact that Atticus always enjoyed Louise's presence, she couldn't help but to think that maybe he was slightly relieved when she was prompted to leave in September. She had planned on staying a little bit longer, just until she was certain that Atticus was safe, but when Edie called to say that Hattie was in the hospital with chest pains, Louise thought she should go home. Louise wasn't able to get a train to Montgomery until the next afternoon, but she thought that she still needed to be home just in case the worse happened. Luckily, Edie called the morning before Louise left, explaining that Hattie simply had too much caffeine, but Louise still decided to return to Montgomery.
Atticus had driven her to the train station. She had explained the situation to both him and Alexandra, and the three of them all decided that it was best not to tell the children about Hattie's scare. Since she was fine, there was no use worrying the children—especially since heart disease was obviously so rampant in the Graham family.
Overall, the ride to the train station had been a quiet one. Louise and Atticus made small talk, but usually ran out of things to talk about for a short while. However, just before they reached the station, Atticus sighed and briefly looked at his sister-in-law. "Have you gotten your heart checked?" While she was used to others asking her this question, she was actually kind of shocked when Atticus brought it up.
"No," she replied, still looking out of the window.
"Are you going to?"
"No." She said again.
"May I ask why?"
"Don't see any need," she said simply. "What will happen will happen, I don't care."
He smiled gingerly at her, and looked as if he was going to say something. As he stopped his car by the station, he slowly let himself out of the car to help her with her bags. Carefully, he hugged her. "You be careful," he told her, and she wondered if Hattie's scare had reminded him of Jean. "Take care of yourself, please."
"You don't need to worry about me." She smiled as she took the bag from his hand. For some reason, she felt a strange sense of sadness as she walked away from him.