Family Matters

Arlo dusted off the coffee table while Lavinia slowly, carefully shifted her new seafoam green bottle to the left. Then a bit to the right. Then back again, as she’d been doing for the last thirty minutes. There wasn’t much room left on the mantle, with all the framed photos and other “treasures” she’d collected going back before finding Arlo.

“Why don’t you clear that off?” he asked. “It isn’t the only flat surface in your home.”

“No, but I can see everything from the angle of the couch,” Lavinia said.

She stepped back and looked over the full shelf while Arlo continued dusting. Then she sighed.

“I s’pose it wouldn’t hurt to make a li'l space…”

Setting her new bottle on the table beside the couch, Lavinia began looking over all her mementos. Arlo sat his feather duster down and joined her as she took a smaller framed photo down and smiled at it.

“Aww, look, this was the first night you moved out of the workshop and into your room,” she said.

Arlo looked dazed in the picture, with Lavinia’s arm around him and his shaggy hair hanging over his empty, scarred eye socket.

“I was still confused about everything then…” he said. “Even with my damaged memory, the new world was so different.”

“You handled it pretty good, at least. I’m gonna keep this one here…”

Lavinia put it back on the mantle, besides the other six photos of Arlo himself or the two of them together. She reached for the others, but hesitated.

“I just can’t take any of them down…” she said, turning away dramatically.

“You see me every day. Why do you need all these pictures of me up here too?”

“Heck, I can never get enough of you,” she replied with a smile.

“M-Ms. Lavinia…” Arlo said, blushing a bit. “Well, what if you removed some of your other collectibles? You’ve got two other bottles up here already.”

“Yeah, but those are nice too. And it’s just Lavinia.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you understand the point of cleaning.”

Arlo looked across the mantle, finally stopping at a watch in a glass case. He’d seen it before—how could he not?—but he never asked about it.

“What about this?”

Lavinia looked. “Oh, that’s my daddy’s watch.”

“You’ve never talked about him before,” Arlo said.

“I haven’t? Hang on, I’ve got a picture here somewhere…”

She dug through the various frames while Arlo watched. Though the search only backed his suggestion to clear the mantle off, he kept that to himself. Eventually, she pulled a photograph from near the back and showed it to the boy. In it were three people in front of a broken statue, surrounded by dirt rows. The first was a tall, round-faced man with dark hair, a faded denim jacket and jeans, and the watch in the case. Beside him was a woman with light brown skin, dense hair tied back with a green bandana, and wearing flowing blouse and trousers. And between them was a little girl with the man’s round face and the woman’s everything else, grinning wide for the camera.

“Is—Is this you?” Arlo asked, looking back and forth from the girl in the picture to the woman beside him.

“Mhm, that’s my daddy on the left and my mama on the right. One of mama’s friends took this when we were planting her flower garden. Well, I say ‘we,’ but mama really did all the planting,” she added. “Daddy dug the rows out and I kinda just provided moral support.”

Arlo kept staring at the picture. “It’s just so strange seeing you young…”

“Hey, I’m only twenty-eight!” Lavinia said.

“Where are they now?” he asked. “Who are they?”

“My daddy’s Roger Botone. He’s from out west, and he went back some time ago to help a few families he knew set up on some old lands that way. This was a long time before I found you, mind. And from then on it was me and mama—Georgette Morris.” Lavinia smiled down at the picture, “I miss her…”

“I wish I could have met her,” Arlo said.

“I’ve been meaning to take you to see her for a while now, but I keep getting distracted,” she admitted.

“What?” He looked up at her, “I thought she was… you know…”

Lavinia nodded. “That’s right… She retired, down to Berwin Lake!”

Arlo stared up at her. Half the time, he wasn’t sure if she was messing with him or just… like that. Flighty. Then while he stared at her, Lavinia set the picture back down and her eyes shone.

“I know what to do with this!” she said, grabbing the new bottle. “I’m gonna put it on my desk in the workshop!”

She shuffled off to the garage, leaving Arlo alone before he could understand what happened.

“She really is just like that…” he muttered.

An Honest Misunderstanding

Lavinia took a deep, steadying breath outside Ivy Tower Radio. It took her two days to work up the courage to follow up on Mae’s invitation. And now, as she stood outside the door in a mauve dress—the only one she owned, and a little too short for her comfort—she hesitated. They barely spoke at Vic’s; what if she’s moving too fast? She never had much interest in anyone before. But she couldn’t just stand outside forever; that morning was kinda chilly.

She pressed the doorbell and heard a faint buzzing, then a voice came through the intercom.

“Hang on, I’m coming,” Mae said.

Lavinia smoothed her dress out as her heart sped up.

“Oh golly, how do people do this whole romance thing…?” she muttered to herself.

After another few seconds, Mae opened the door. And upon seeing her, Lavinia began to question if she overdressed for the occasion. Mae was in the same creased white pants and messy sweater with the sleeves rolled up that she was wearing at Vic’s earlier that week. Her bedraggled green hair matched the state of her clothes, and the look was completed by the heavy bags under her eyes. And from the way she paused, mouth open a bit when she saw Lavinia, she was just as surprised by her outfit.

“Do you… always dress up for this?” Mae asked.

“Well, not usually,” Lavinia said, blushing. “I mean, this is… this is my first time doing this sorta thing…”

“Oh. Uhhh… Well, you can come in anyway.”

Mae moved out of the way and Lavinia entered the radio station. It looked… well, about as messy as Mae herself. At least it smelled nice, as the aroma of fresh coffee wafted through the air. It was also cooler inside the radio station than outside.

“This’s er… a real nice place you got,” Lavinia said.

“It’s alright, I know it’s a mess. My interns try to clean up after me, but I manage to stay one step ahead. Excuse me for a second,” Mae added.

She went over to the pour-over coffee pot on the counter outside her studio. It was less than half full, but there weren’t any cups around that Lavinia could see. Then, she found out why. Mae just lifted up the pot up and drank directly from it. Lavinia was stunned; she didn’t like coffee even with cream and sugar.

“Sorry about that…” Mae said, going back to her. “Mornings, y’know?”

“I don’t mean no offense, but if you’re not a morning person, why are you ‘Morning Mae’?” Lavinia asked.

Mae laughed. “Because my interns didn’t want to be up to broadcast this early either. And I couldn’t think of good alliterative name for if I were on in the afternoon or whatever.”

“Well, it is a good name,” Lavinia admitted.

“Thanks. Anyway, the issue’s over here.”

Mae went down a hall to the right and Lavinia, perplexed, followed after her. They came to a folding door that Mae unlatched, opening it to reveal a big HVAC unit inside.

“This thing’s been pretty reliable since I got Ivy Tower Radio up and running, but lately it’s been crapping out on me,” Mae said.

“You… wanted me to come over to fix your heating?” Lavinia asked.

“Yeah. I mean, if this isn’t the kinda thing you normally work on I understand—”

“N-No, I—well, I can take a look at it, at least. But I guess I just… misunderstood why you wanted me to come over…”

Mae paused. Lavinia could practically see the calculations running through her brain.

“You thought I was asking you on—a date?”

Lavinia blushed. “I-I don’t know, something like that…”

“But why?” Mae shook her head, “We’d never even talked before that drinking contest.”

“I know, but… I mean, I’ve seen you around Vic’s before and you’re always making people laugh, and you sound so confident on the radio. I think that’s real admirable. Also, your hair’s real pretty…”

“Wow. That’s… nice of you,” Mae said. “Thing is, I just don’t know you well enough for anything like that.”

“I-I understand, really. My head got away from me is all.”

“It’s okay. And thanks for understanding.” She brushed her hair back, “But uh… if you wanted to grab a drink at Vic’s sometime, I’d be open to that—just as friends.”

“Sure! But I’ll stick with water, I think.”

Mae laughed. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

“And I’ll still take a look at your heating!” Lavinia said. Then she looked down at her dress, blushing. “I should go home and change first…”

When Ms. Lavinia Isn’t Home

Arlo was alone again. That wasn’t a lonely feeling despite how it sounded; it was something he was accustomed to. Ms. Lavinia had her own life and hobbies. She’d had them for longer than she’d had him. And after the incident in the market, he was fine with that. There was plenty for him to do alone. He straightened up around the home, washed Ms. Lavinia’s clothes, and performed other required household duties. That’s what he enjoyed.

Though sometimes, late at night when Ms. Lavinia was asleep or when he was truly alone, he’d lie in bed thinking about

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Arlo was alone again. That wasn’t a lonely feeling despite how it sounded; it was something he was accustomed to. Ms. Lavinia had her own life and hobbies. She’d had them for longer than she’d had him. And after the incident in the market, he was fine with that. There was plenty for him to do alone. He straightened up around the home, washed Ms. Lavinia’s clothes, and performed other required household duties. That’s what he enjoyed. It was what he was created for. He also enjoyed the peace and quiet that came with being alone. But in recent days, he only found that time unnerving, because now he wasn’t alone.

It started about a week before the Blackwell Market incident, when Ms. Lavinia left home, shouting back about going to her mother’s garden. Her rushing out was something that happened at least twice a week. While she was gone, Arlo went out onto the balcony to take in the view she so commonly did. It was calming there in the passing morning breeze that rustled the ivy covering the old buildings.

And there she was.

He didn’t notice her at first. The view and the pleasant calm distracted him, but he soon realized there was a girl down in the street staring up at him. It startled him at first, both from the discovery of being watched and by the odd familiarity of the girl.

She was a young girl about his age, her silky, dark hair held back with a white bow that matched the cardigan and skirt she wore. The breeze whipped her clothes and strands of hair flew over her face, but her gaze was unwavering. When Arlo attempted to say hello, no words escaped him. He was drawn into her eyes and soft smile, and in a flash, a dingy apartment replaced the balcony. There was something familiar about its faded floral wallpaper, distressed furniture, and stained carpets. He could hear shouting, but couldn’t see where it came from.

The girl was there, too. She was the only other person.

The image disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving Arlo with a headache and solitude again. When he snapped out of it and looked down from the balcony, he found the staring girl was gone. The whole incident unnerved him, and he hadn’t gone back out there again since—at least not while he was home alone.

But after Lavinia left that morning, dressed up and freaking out about going to see Mae, he made a mistake. He glanced out the door to the balcony and saw the girl again. It was only the briefest of glances, but he could still see the white band in her hair and unblinking eyes as they stared up at him from beyond the balcony’s edge.

He jumped back and nearly fell over the couch, before darting out of sight and hiding in the curtain beside the door. It’d been over a week since he saw her again, and now he only felt that same dread. His artificial heart beat faster and faster—though he didn’t know why. The image of the apartment formed on the periphery of his mind, but he did his best to fight it. He didn’t want to be locked anywhere with the staring stranger, even if it was all in his head.

Then the front door creaked downstairs. He froze; was the girl inside? She must have seen him, and if she’d been lurking nearby, she must have seen Lavinia leave earlier. There were footsteps coming upstairs. He didn’t have the courage to peek back out and see if the girl was gone or not. As the footsteps neared the living room, though, it wouldn’t matter anyway. A form appeared in the doorway and Arlo burst forward.

“Get out! This is my home, I won't let you hurt them!” he shouted.

Lavinia stumbled back, nearly falling to the floor.

“W-What the heck’s gotten into you?” she shouted back.

“Ms. Lavinia!” He hurried over to her, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t—I thought you were someone else…”

“Who else would I have been? We’re the only ones what live down around this way.”

“I know, I know… What are you doing back already?”

“Well, I misjudged the situation a li’l bit…” she said. “I just came back to change before heading out to the radio tower again.”

“O-Oh. Would it be okay if I went with you…?”

Lavinia looked at him, shocked. “You wanna go with me? To a strange place? With people you don’t know?”

Arlo nodded.

“Well, sure, that’s okay with me. But… is everything alright? That’s way outta character for you.”

He hesitantly glanced back out of the balcony door. The staring girl was gone.

“Yes. Everything is fine…”