Tears of innocence and hope

Although some of us just want to hibernate, we are waking up to the energy of the Year of the Fire Rooster in our snow-covered Ottawa Valley. The Rideau Canal Skateway is open and Winterlude celebrations are under way. 

If you don't care for skating or skiing, you can enjoy fresh air and frosty ambience by touring the ice sculpture displays and perhaps enjoying a Beaver tail pastry and hot chocolate.

Permit yourself to travel back to a solemn winter during a time of innocence.  Imagine yourself in a small town on the shores of Georgian Bay in the 1970s. Meet a lonely yet brave 11 year-old girl - a girl on a mission to convince Mr. Young to let his pregnant daughter come back home. 

- - Begin excerpt - - 

After she finished her soup and blew her nose again, Sera sat quietly and gazed at the rabbit painting above her booth.  She took in the red, gold and green designs, the curves and simple patterns.  She felt sadness.  She felt a distant joy and contentment.  She smiled.  It was her first in a long time.  I miss this, she thought.  

The kitchen door swung open slowly.  Carl Young emerged, wearing his kitchen whites, as usual and holding a towel.   He approached Sera's booth with slow, even steps, wiping his hands.  

Sera perked up nervously and smiled, "Hello, Mr. Young."

"Hello, stranger, " he responded.

"Would you like to join me?"

"Sure.  Sure." he smiled briefly and sat across from her, "I guess I could take a break."  He sighed and groaned as he sat down on the bench.  Within seconds, Jenny swiftly brought over a coffee cup and saucer, filled the cup and dropped off the cream and sugar.  Carl gave a curious look, almost surprised that his wife was so quick in serving him.  

Sera bit her lip, looking down then slowly lifted her gaze to meet his tired eyes.  He appeared old and sad.  She rarely saw him sitting still for long periods.  

"Happy New Year, Mr. Young."

"Happy New Year, Sera."

"Soon it will be the Year of the Rabbit, yes?"

"Yes, that's right," he responded, looking up at the painting. 

Sera leaned forward, "It's my favourite year, you know, since I was born in it and.. that was the year you opened the restaurant."

Carl smiled slightly and nodded.  "That's right.  I forgot."

"I was wondering if you were going to have a celebration of any sort.  You know, like an anniversary party?"

"Oh.  I hadn't thought of that.  I've been.... busy."

"You could invite a lot of people."

"Really?" he shifted in his seat.

"Sure.  I could help with the decorations. I'm sure Dela and Gwen would like to help too."

"Sounds nice," he nodded, his eyes scanning the booths and front of the restaurant then took a sip of coffee.  

"I miss Amy!" she blurted out.

Carl, closed his eyes, breathed out slowly and set down his cup.

"I miss her, Mr. Young.  So do Dela and Gwen.  So does.. Mrs. Young."

"Sera..."

"I may just be a kid but I know she didn't do anything horrible.  She's pregnant and yes by my brother.  Stupid teenagers," she rolled her eyes, "Stupid. But.. but, it's not like she killed someone."

Carl looked at her sternly. 

"Please, Mr. Young," she pleaded with a soft whisper, stretching her hands across the table, "Let her come back home.  The place isn't the same without her.  I miss coming here with my family.  I miss that, Mr. Young."

"Sera..." he said in a tired manner.

"Please." Her green eyes watered and bore pitifully at him.  He did not want to destroy her youthful innocence.

"Sera.  It's a matter of honour, of family pride.  She shamed the family.  I gave her the best of everything and this is what happens... If this was another place and time, a girl in her situation would be…"

"I understand, Mr. Young. Well, I don't really ... I respect your opinion."

"Thank you."

"If it's a matter of you not wanting her at home right now, can she come and stay with us?"

"Oh.. Now I see.  Did your father send you here?"

"No!  I came by myself.  They don't know that I'm here. It was very hard for me to come here by myself especially seeing ..." she scowled, "seeing HIM here." her head jerked towards the front of the room.

"I see..."

"My friend was sent away with her mom because he hit her.  I haven't seen her for months. I've only received one letter from her. I miss her. I also miss Amy. Dela and Gwen miss Amy. I miss coming here with my family. Please, please, can we just put things back the way they were?"

"I don't see how we can do that, Sera.  My heart is broken. My family is shamed."

More people entered the restaurant, stomping the snow off their boots, shaking their hats and heading to join their companions.

"I.. I…  should let you get back to work, Mr. Young." said Sera, rising, "Looks like the winter carnival has brought a lot of people out today."

"Yes, I should get back...."

Sera put Aunt Georgette's money on the table and slid it under her empty soup bowl.  She grabbed her coat and got up to put it on.

Carl sat back and stared sadly at her.

"Thank you for the soup, Mr. Young.  It was delicious and warm as usual."

"Thank you for dropping by, Sera."

"Happy New Year,"  she said as she put on her tuque, turned and walked quickly towards the front door. 

- - End excerpt - - 

I cried while writing that part of the story. You just may cry too. Sample more excerpts. See what others have shared after reading The Year of the Rabbit. Download the first 20% of the novel for free at Smashwords. 

Thanks for dropping by. Stay warm :-) 

T

Blending traditions like there's no tomorrow

I'm not a fan of Valentine's Day.

I would not go out of my way to ruin the fun for all the lovers yet I feel sorry for the flowers suffering unnecessary carnage. 

No, I'm not bitter that I had nobody special to share this Hallmark holiday with.... I can celebrate it with my children and merge it with other tasty, shiny events this month.  I shall wait another day or two before I enjoy the savings on all the retail chocolate!  Bwaa-ha-ha-haaaaa.

It was a bittersweet day on February 14, 2015 when Michele Ferrero passed away. I shall think of him every time I bite into, every time I savour one of those tasty, chocolate-y, nutty Ferrero Rocher nuggets. There were times when they helped me through tearful drafts of the novel when Gummy Bears just would not do. Thank you, sir.
 
Wishing all visitors a safe, enjoyable and chocolate-y Valentines'-Flag Day-Family Day weekend and a prosperous, healthy Lunar New Year. 

  
Would you like a little taste from The Year of the Rabbit?

• Drop by the novel's domain;
• Read some excerpts;
• Download a few free chapters from Smashwords;
• Read comments from others;

Otherwise, stick around for a few years as we work on a shiny new print edition, due out by 2023.

Thanks for dropping by.

T (aka Flo)

Packing carrots and sugar cubes

Get back in yer hole, silly groundhog!

So what if a whimsical human tradition has permitted a groggy rodent to predict six more weeks of winter.  Let's enjoy it while it's here.  Let's feel the energy of the horse galloping in and lasso us some opportunities.  

Let's also enjoy those warm stews, soups and beanful chili's.

The above picture was illustrated by a resident artiste. She is getting close to completing the commissioned work of twelve Chinese Zodiac signs. Our favourite of course is The Year of the Rabbit. The rabbit would likely have been smart enough just to stay in his hole if given the choice.

Learn more about The Year of the Rabbit, a novel about Fate, Family and Forgiveness:  

• Drop by the novel's domain;
• Read some excerpts;
• Download a few free chapters from Smashwords;
• Read comments from others;
• Like the novel on Facebook;
• Stick around for a few years as we work on the second edition.

Thanks for dropping by.  Please close the gate on your way out.

T

A Favourite Tree

Do you have a favourite place where you can go to be alone or to enjoy with a special person?

One of my favourite places to visit is the arboretum at the Experimental Farm in Ottawa. 

In recent years I have been dragging my children there for picnics and walks along the lush, colourful pathways.  We also visit my favourite tree, a Bebb's oak. 

It reminds me of my dear old Dad, of a photograph that was taken of him leaning on a cane during his final years.

During a 2005 visit, we noticed a plaque on the tree dedicated to Ardeth Wood, a promising young woman who was murdered on a bike path the summer of 2003.  

Visiting the arboretum provides us with a chance to experience nature as a family, to get fresh air and exercise. Visiting this tree provides me with time to reflect with a respect for ancient wisdom, hope for the future and gratitude for being a survivor. 

This springtime visit, I remembered to pack my copy of For the Love of Trees so we could identify the different species.  Unfortunately, we didn't have time to wander and explore due to tight schedules.  Another time, perhaps. 

In the novel, trees are featured often - especially the pin cherry tree.  It was a favourite place for Sera Fletcher to climb and hide.  It was from this tree that she first met Father Gio. 

This tree provided the riggings and backdrop for the last  performance witnessed by Sera's ailing mother. 

Soon, it too met with its fate.  

As I look at a nearby cherry tree losing its blossoms, I know that it will produce berries this summer and that the remaining ones will be consumed by hungry birds during the winter.  

This tree is a reminder of the cycle of life and death, much like the The tree of life.

If you appreciate trees and want to read undiscovered Canadian fiction, please visit by the web site for The Year of the Rabbit.  

Thanks,

T

Deep Freeze and Family Traditions

January has been one roller coaster of a ride weather-wise. 

Just weeks ago we were in the middle of the January Thaw and now we're into a deep freeze.

If you're in Ottawa and the weather is finally stabilized by next weekend, do drop by one or two of the Winterlude events.  One of my favourite Winterlude traditions is to visit the ice sculptures with my young folk after a dining experience somewhere in downtown Ottawa.  

My "children" no longer like to go on the Rideau Canal, in the crowds of other skaters.  If I suggest we go for a walk to say that we were actually on the canal, they are not fully prepared because not all are sensible enough to wear boots.  

 

Only a couple still enjoy the tasty messiness of BeaverTails pastries and hot chocolate after we have toured the ice sculpture exhibits.  If you are curious, I recommend to go at night when the sculptures are enhanced by colourful lights. 

The video below was created by two young ladies.  It looks like one is trying a BeaverTail for the first time.  

Oh, well.  You can't hold onto all of the favourite activities with a maturing family.  You can at least take photographs, videos and hold onto the memories.

Traditions.  

Do you have family traditions that you enjoy, helping to break up the long winter months and get your kids outside? 

I tried downhill skiing once and did not enjoy it at all. I have fond memories of snowshoeing around forests and small lakes near Georgian Bay.  I also recall winning a snowshoe race at a Parish Picnic when I was about 12 or 13 years old.  

Traditions.

Permit me to lead you to some excerpts from The Year of the Rabbit.  

• One shares the tradition of Sunday lunch at the Red Hare restaurant.  
• Another touches on the Winter Carnival tradition of Seguin Sound, the fictitious town in the novel.  
• If you wish to warm up, read about Father Giovanni and Sera Fletcher at the summer Parish Picnic. 

If you enjoy the excerpts, you can download a portion the ebook version from Smashwords for free. 
 
See what others have offered after reading this bittersweet tale. 
 
Thanks for dropping by.  Stay warm and dry. 

T
 

Ancient Traditions and Research

After attending a Feng Shui workshop this weekend, I wonder if I did justice to settings in the novel.

I know, it's after-thoughts like these that can trouble an author's pretty little head. 

Perhaps I can review the descriptions of the Red Hare restaurant, the apartment above then update in a new version of the novel.  I understand the importance of proper research on certain subjects if you're going to write about them - even in a general sense.   When I first wrote these passages, I didn't want to complicate the story with technical details. 

I have been considering options for ebook updates, a fresh printed version (sorry, trees) and plans to translate into French.  Perhaps when I have a bit more energy and better resources.

You can read the detailed account of the recent Feng Shui workshop in the deep blonde thoughts blog.  The lovely Tree of Life print is featured.  So are the cats - especially that Tabby. 
 

Don't be offended by my thoughts on out-dated religious texts although the subject does emerge during various scenes in the Novel. 
  
Speaking of, drop by the Year of the Rabbit domain for updates, Tweets and distractions.  Oh, yes...  Remember to buy a gift copy of the novel at Smashwords where you set the price. 
 
T
 
 

News overload and media cuts

This blog entry touches on the theme of "confession" in the novel.  It also provides a good opportunity to comment on the recent Sunday edition newspaper cuts at PostMedia. 

PostMedia cutting jobs, Sunday editions
Calgary, Edmonton, Ottawa, Montreal papers affected
http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/ottawa/story/2012/05/28/postmedia-job-cuts.html

The novel's author has not read a Sunday paper in years.  That's right.  There has hardly been a print edition newspaper in this household for ages.  She obtains most of her news online from credible sources or from that old thing called "radio".  At times when the news is overwhelming, she shuts everything off and cocoons to read or write. 

Summer 1975 (correction) 1974. Gio has arrived after a couple of parishioners depart from visiting Father John O'Reilly at the hospital.  Father John is recovering from a stroke. 

- - -

The elder priest slumped in his chair, in a seemingly act of relief.

"Are you tired, John?" asked Gio quietly, leaning toward his mentor. 

"Oh... sort of," he responded, "Those two sure can talk."

"So can you, Father O'Reilly, " quipped Gio with a wink and smile.

"I suppose so..." He gazed around the room, out the window then smiled wistfully at Gio, "So, how are you holding out?  Have you heard from Toronto yet if you can get some help?"

"I'm doing well, Father.  Well and busy.  No, the Arch Diocese hasn't found anyone yet.  But hopefully, you will be back on your feet soon?"

"I sure hope so.  I just get tired easily and..." lowering his voice and leaning forward, "a little confused at times."

"That's just part of the recovery, as the doctors told us,” assured Gio.

Father O'Reilly smiled weakly and gazed out the window longingly, "I miss my work, Gio.  I miss saying mass, giving communion and being with the congregation."

Gio lowered his gaze to his hands, folded on the table.  "I understand, John."

They were approached by a candy-striper pushing the coffee and snack cart. 

"Hello, Fathers,” she greeted them with a perky tone, "Would you like some coffee, cookies or something to read?"

Gio recognized her as Janice Foley, the young girl with whom he had seen Daniel at the picnic a few years ago.  How she had grown.

"Oh, hello, Janice," said Gio, "Nothing for me thanks.  Father O'Reilly, would you like something from the cart?"

The old priest seemed awakened from a daydream.

"Huh?"

Janice leaned over to him with a cheery smile and spoke a little louder, "Would you like something from the cart, Father?"

"Jeez Louise! I'm not deaf, dear girl!"

"Sorry, Father, " her face flushed, this time speaking normally, "Would you like something from the cart?"

"Oh. Any newspapers?  Any recent newspapers?"

Janice bent to retrieve one from the lower shelves, "How about yesterday's Toronto Star?"

"That will have to do, I guess." his hand shook as he reached for it, "Thank you very much, my dear.  How much do I owe you?"

Janice darted her eyes to Gio who was smiling at the exchange between old and young.  She smiled, "There's no charge, Father."  Before she turned to wheel her cart to the next table, she chirped, "Have a nice afternoon, gentlemen."

"Nice girl," said Father O'Reilly as he slipped on his reading glasses and opened the paper.

"That was Janice Foley, John,” said Gio, "She goes to Saint Pete's.  You saw her through first communion to confirmation."

"Oh."  He looked over to the girl across the room, "Sure grown up now, eh?"

“They sure do.”

Gio sat quietly, nodding as the old priest leafed through the newspaper, making one-sentenced comments about the news, voicing his opinion from time to time and muttering away. 

“John,” Gio spoke to get the elder priest’s attention, “Father O’Reilly,” Gio said louder then leaning in with a whisper, “I would like to make a confession.”

- - -  
If you found this to be an intriguing blog post, taste a few other excerpts.  Explore a few clippings from the Seguin Sounder a fictitious newspaper that evolved after the novel was published.  We don't have a weekly crossword to offer yet could entice you with a word search puzzle.

Come support efforts to reduce paper waste, to save a tree or two by purchasing an Ebook version of The Year of the Rabbit.  Even better?  Get a free copy by May 31st.
Thanks for dropping by.

T

Traditions: Family Movie Night

One of the traditions I share with my children is Family Movie night.  Usually on Saturday evenings we'll pop up some popcorn, pour some Canada Dry Ginger Ale (or OJ for the health-conscious) and watch a movie.  Some times not everyone can join in but at least one or two will nestle on the big comfy couch while watching and tapping at their electronic appendages.

Gone are the days of trekking up to the "video store" to rent a VHS video or DVD.  We can select from hundreds of titles from our cable company.  One complaint is that we're still waiting for The Descendants to be available! (Sigh... George Clooney.  Sigh...)

Anyway, follow the white rabbit to this deep blonde thoughts blog entry titled "Young Adult Fiction and Romantic Delusions" where I recall a movie we recently watched and the lessons learned from observing the train wreck of a protagoniste. She happens to be a writer - correction: an Author. 

My blonde line of thought connects the theme of delusions, of recapturing romance or past feelings with a scene in The Year of the Rabbit.

T

The Year of the Dragon is hot on the Rabbit's fluffy tail

Fellow Rabbits, can you feel that?  Can you feel the hot, moist breath of the Dragon on your fluffy little tails?  Fear not. Open the window to a new year.  Go with the flow and enjoy the celebrations. 

January 23rd marks the new moon and the start of the Chinese New Year, the Year of the Water Dragon.  I am impressed to know that many famous, respected people were born in the Year of the Dragon. 


Like the young heroine in my Novel, "The Year of the Rabbit", I enjoy learning about other cultures, I respect most traditions and willingly share in the celebrations.  The year of the rabbit is a timeless concept for me and for my character, Sera Fletcher.  I invite you to read excerpts where Sera is introduced to the Chinese zodiac, adopts her sign into her belief systems, presents it as a way to heal the wounds between friends and leans on it to welcome her new-born nephew into her sad and lonely world. 

I invite you to enjoy comments from readers of the first, print on demand edition of the novel. Make sure you taste a free sample of the Ebook version at Smashwords.  I also invite you to follow Florence T Lyon (my pen name) on Twitter.  She's a child of the 1970s and is adapting slowly to this new-fangled Internet technology. 
 

Although the timid rabbit may retreat from the joyful noise of the Dragon new year, its representation will always have a special place in my heart.  As a consolation, one of my children was born in the year of the Dragon.  I look forward to her success with achieving yet another (insert gush of pride) degree in 2012 and the many opportunities that follow. 

Happy New Year!

T

Winter Carnival

It's a cold, damp January 2012 in the Ottawa Valley.   Before the Year of the Dragon pounces in, I thought you would enjoy an excerpt from January 1975, leading in to the Year of the Rabbit.  Imagine yourself in a small town on the shores of Georgian Bay. Meet a lonely yet brave 11 year-old girl - a girl on a mission. 
  


It was late January at the Winter Carnival celebrations at the town park that Sera approached Aunt Georgette for a couple of dollars. 


“Don’t you want to go on a sled ride, chérie?” Georgette asked, “How about some hot chocolate and pastries?” 


"I have to go... see someone," the girl responded.


"Where are you going,  Would you like company?" asked her Aunt.


“Just somewhere, Aunt Georgette. I need to go alone,” Sera replied, choking back tears.


"Okay, chérie," Georgette bent and kissed her on the forehead while handing her two dollars.  


"I'll see you back home, Aunt Georgette.  Thanks." She quickly pocketed the money and turned towards Main Street.  


The snow drifted down in a gentle, lacey curtain.  Sera adjusted her scarf and pulled the knit hat down over her ears and dark curls.  Her walk was slow yet determined with her boots making a steady ka-lump, ka-lump rhythm as she walked down the street.  


She had no desire to join in festivities in the park or at the ice-fishing derby on the Bay.  She needed to be somewhere familiar and comfortable.  


Sera headed towards the Red Hare, digging up the warm memories of the place, anticipating a hot bowl of wonton soup and sitting in her favourite spot.   I have to take things into my own hands, she thought while walking down the bustling sidewalk.  "Someone has to fix this.  I'm going to talk to Mrs. Young."


When Sera entered the restaurant, she was disappointed and angry to see Daryl MacDonald at one of the booths near the front, chatting up some of his police buddies, Constables Harrison and Brown.  


"Well, look what the cat dragged in," he feigned polite joviality, "It's the youngest of the Fletcher brood.  Where's the rest of the crew?  I haven't seen you people in here for weeks."


Sera felt a flood of fear and anger.  He likely knew damn well why they hadn't come lately.  Now he was sitting here gloating and rubbing it in.  She hated this man for what he did to her friend's mother.  She hated that they had to move away and she couldn't know where they were.  At least he didn't know where they were.  Look at him, what a big shot — just because his family owned most of the lumberyards in town.  


Don't say anything stupid.  Don't be afraid, she reminded herself.  Remember why you are here.  


"Hello, Mr. MacDonald," she responded while removing her hat and mitts, "Hello, Constables.  People have been busy, I guess."  She strained to see if her favourite booth was available.  She felt relief when she saw Jenny clearing her favourite table near the back.


The constables shifted in their seats uncomfortably. They didn’t look like they enjoyed his company.


Daryl continued, "Now, how's that Daniel doing in college?"


"Fine, thanks."


"He's a fine young lad, " Daryl continued to his companions, "He's going to make a fine officer some day."


The other men nodded in agreement and sipped their coffee.  


“Yes, siree.  And I heard he’s going to be a father too,” he gaffawed and slapped the table.


"Excuse me," Sera said curtly and headed towards the back. 


She walked at an even pace towards her booth.  Jenny was clearing away dishes from the previous customers and stopped to smile at her, "Hello, Sera. How are you, sweetie?"


"Not great, really," she responded, removing her coat, folding it and tossing it into the corner of one of the benches.  She scooped up a couple of plates and put them into the bussing bin that Jenny was holding, helping her tidy up.  


"I miss you, Sera," Jenny said, still performing her work, "I miss your whole family."   She pulled a handkerchief from her apron and blew her nose.  


"I miss you too, Mrs. Young," the girl responded, "I miss Amy and Mr. Young, I guess.  I miss this place."  Their eyes met. Sera was frowning and looked down at the table. "I miss Victoria."  She burst into silent tears, her shoulders shaking with each painful sob.  She sunk her chin into her chest and hunched her shoulders.


Jenny put her arms around Sera and held her closely.  


"I miss her so much.  I'm so lonely and I don't know .. don't know what to do."


"I know.  I understand, Sera." 


"I miss … how things used to be.  Mom is still not well enough. They say she's gone into a 'relapse'.   Aunt Georgette tries to cheer me up but I just don't feel any better.  I miss coming here, being here."


She gladly accepted the tissue Jenny offered her and blew her nose loudly.  


"Here, sit down."  Jenny slid in beside Sera on the bench with her arm around her shoulder and her head leaned in so she could speak softly.  "Things have been pretty tense around our place too.  Carl is embarrassed and angry with Amy.  That is why he had her sent away to that place in Toronto."


"I know.  I heard it from Dela and Gwen."


"It's ... very lonely around here without her too.  My own little girl," she blew her nose one more time and breathed out in relief, "Thank goodness for Gio arranging with the high school that she could finish her studies from there."  


"He's not half-bad, then," Sera commented, "How is Amy ... feeling?"


"Oh, she's a tough one but still her little princess self," she smirked, "and she tells me on the phone that she has been eating a lot. I mean A LOT!"


"Great. I wish she was here.  I wish I could see her big belly ... and feel the baby moving. "


Jenny looked down at her delicate hands and whispered, "Me too."


A small group of people entered the restaurant and seated themselves.  Jenny sighed then gave Sera a half hug and squeezed her shoulders to her chest, "I had better get back to work. Where's that Carolyn?  She's supposed to be covering the other side of the room.  Are you hungry?"


"Yes.  May I have a bowl of wonton soup?"


"Sure thing," Jenny replied as she rose to grab the bin and headed towards the kitchen. She turned and whispered, 


"It's nice to see you again, Sera."  


"Same here, Mrs. Young."




After she finished her soup and blew her nose again, Sera sat quietly and gazed at the rabbit painting above her booth.  She took in the red, gold and green designs, the curves and simple patterns.  She felt sadness.  She felt a distant joy and contentment.  She smiled.  It was her first in a long time.  I miss this, she thought.  


The kitchen door swung open slowly.  Carl Young emerged, wearing his kitchen whites, as usual and holding a towel.   He approached Sera's booth with slow, even steps, wiping his hands.  


Sera perked up nervously and smiled, "Hello, Mr. Young."


"Hello, stranger, " he responded.


"Would you like to join me?"


"Sure.  Sure." he smiled briefly and sat across from her, "I guess I could take a break."  He sighed and groaned as he sat down on the bench.  Within seconds, Jenny swiftly brought over a coffee cup and saucer, filled the cup and dropped off the cream and sugar.  Carl gave a curious look, almost surprised that his wife was so quick in serving him.  


Sera bit her lip, looking down then slowly lifted her gaze to meet his tired eyes.  He appeared old and sad.  She rarely saw him sitting still for long periods.  


"Happy New Year, Mr. Young."


"Happy New Year, Sera."


"Soon it will be the Year of the Rabbit, yes?"


"Yes, that's right," he responded, looking up at the painting. 


Sera leaned forward, "It's my favourite year, you know, since I was born in it and.. that was the year you opened the restaurant."


Carl smiled slightly and nodded.  "That's right.  I forgot."


"I was wondering if you were going to have a celebration of any sort.  You know, like an anniversary party?"


"Oh.  I hadn't thought of that.  I've been.... busy."


"You could invite a lot of people."


"Really?" he shifted in his seat.


"Sure.  I could help with the decorations. I'm sure Dela and Gwen would like to help too."


"Sounds nice," he nodded, his eyes scanning the booths and front of the restaurant then took a sip of coffee.  


"I miss Amy!" she blurted out.


Carl, closed his eyes, breathed out slowly and set down his cup.


"I miss her, Mr. Young.  So do Dela and Gwen.  So does.. Mrs. Young."


"Sera..."


"I may just be a kid but I know she didn't do anything horrible.  She's pregnant and yes by my brother.  Stupid teenagers," she rolled her eyes, "Stupid. But.. but, it's not like she killed someone."


Carl looked at her sternly. 


"Please, Mr. Young," she pleaded with a soft whisper, stretching her hands across the table, "Let her come back home.  The place isn't the same without her.  I miss coming here with my family.  I miss that, Mr. Young.  


"Sera..." he said in a tired manner.


"Please." Her green eyes watered and bore pitifully at him.  He did not want to destroy her youthful innocence.


"Sera.  It's a matter of honour, of family pride.  She shamed the family.  I gave her the best of everything and this is what happens... If this was another place and time, a girl in her situation would be…"


"I understand, Mr. Young. Well, I don't really ... I respect your opinion."


"Thank you."


"If it's a matter of you not wanting her at home right now, can she come and stay with us? "


"Oh.. Now I see.  Did your father send you here?"


"No!  I came by myself.  They don't know that I'm here. It was very hard for me to come here by myself especially seeing ... " she scowled, "seeing HIM here." her head jerked towards the front of the room.


"I see..."


"My friend was sent away with her mom because he hit her.  I haven't seen her for months. I've only received one letter from her. I miss her. I also miss Amy. Dela and Gwen miss Amy. I miss coming here with my family. Please, please, can we just put things back the way they were?"


"I don't see how we can do that, Sera.  My heart is broken. My family is shamed."


More people entered the restaurant, stomping the snow off their boots, shaking their hats and heading to join their companions.


"I.. I…  should let you get back to work, Mr. Young." said Sera, rising, "Looks like the winter carnival has brought a lot of people out today."


"Yes, I should get back...."


Sera put Aunt Georgette's money on the table and slid it under her empty soup bowl.  She grabbed her coat and got up to put it on.


Carl sat back and stared sadly at her.


"Thank you for the soup, Mr. Young.  It was delicious and warm as usual."


"Thank you for dropping by, Sera."


"Happy New Year,"  she said as she put on her touque, turned and walked quickly towards the front door. 


- - End excerpt - - 


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