Justified Heart

It was 6:50pm, still ten minutes to go before Winter was due to arrive as Kat made the final preparations for her friend’s welcoming dinner.

“Her favourite!” exclaimed Kat, frying the chicken pieces, adding a couple of kaffir lime leaves, pouring chicken stock, two tablespoons of tomato puree, stirring the red onion in with it. Once that was done, she took to drizzling balsamic vinegar and olive oil over the tomato and mozzarella salad, adding the chopped basil. “Just the raspberry pie to go.” she thought to herself, periodically checking the oven to make sure it wasn’t burnt.

Finally she had finished all the preparations, fully satisfied that every dish had been cooked to the highest standard and that the table was laid out beautifully. The doorbell rang; the sound buzzing throughout her small but comfortable flat.

She opened the door. Excitement running through her just like she had anticipated this moment so many times previously. Four years they hadn’t seen each other. Three whole years and a leap year, one thousand four hundred and sixty one days! In fact it was this date August 13th they last met.

There opposite her friend stood. She was a young woman in her early twenties, beautiful but with somewhat cold, hard features. To strangers, she would have seemed unfeeling, unsympathetic, but Kat knew her beyond that. It was her strength, that barrier she put up, protecting herself; her reluctance and fear of feeling vulnerable. And yet there was a certain fragility that Kat was aware of, the same fragility Winter desperately tried to hide.

And there she stood. In her crimson red dress with black rose embellishment, like blood in contrast with her white, milky skin. Had she been wearing furs and a silver crown, she would have been mistaken for the fairytale snow queen.

So Winter Frost stood. Winter Thora Frost. Winter, the name her mother had came up with to reflect those icy features and snow white skin; also the frosty January night she had been born and thought it would be a good pun, Winter Frost. Thora, born on Thor’s day and yet another pun…thaw! Eventually it would have more accurately reflected the state of her parent’s marriage than her. Frozen cold, ice that would ultimately shatter into a million pieces like glass.

And yet, standing there seeing her closest friend, her sister! For a brief moment she melted.

Instantly Kat drew her inside with an easy hug. “Oh Winter! It’s been far too long! Four years!”

“Since mother’s funeral, I know.” Not her real mother but Mariette Jamison, Winter’s foster mother, a widow with one daughter. She had adopted Winter when she was seven and as the closest friend of Winter’s mother Brody, she took over the grief stricken child. Walking through the flat she’d known so well, a sweet aroma wafted into her senses.

“Is that…?” A sense of recognition as Winter inhaled the delicious scent. The nod of reply confirmed it.

“You didn’t need to.” But Winter was still enticed by the smell. Kat drew out a chair for her to sit on.

“If it means you’ll visit more often, I’ll cook it everyday!” Although it was a joke, Kat meant it. Seeing Winter, taking care of her and watching the girl grow up had been what Mariette wanted and Kat forever loyal to her mother wanted to do the same. She loved Winter as her own sister.

“I am truly sorry. You’ve always been so kind to me. I don’t even deserve it.”

“Nonsense, child.” Child. Even though they were sisters, fifteen years split them apart. Kat was the one that took care of her when the nightmares haunted, Kat baked her cookies to cheer Winter up. Kat. In fact in the later years when Mariette’s health faltered, Kat would look after not only her mother, but her baby sister too. “What kept you away for so long?”

“I’ve just been so busy.”

“Yes, America. What is it like then?”

“No difference to England really, but bigger.”

“And led by an idiot. So, tell me, what’s the real reason you’ve come? It’s obviously not the charms of this wonderfully small flat or the boring, frumpy old woman sitting before you.”

“You know you’re not boring, frumpy or old. And you know that I always love you. I’ve just been preoccupied.”

“So you’ve said. Come on, tell me. What’s the matter honey? I might be able to help you.” Winter knew she would eventually need her help and since they were so close, she could confide in her. Besides, she needed to someone to talk to about the letter. Finally she gave in.

“Oh, alright.” So she began her story, starting from the letter three months ago.

“I was so shocked. Nobody ever sent me personal letters except you, and I can recognise your handwriting easily enough. So when I saw the address, from England, I didn’t know what to except. Then I opened it. At first I thought it was some incredibly cruel hoax and I ignored it. A month later, it came again but with more urgency. I was confused; I couldn’t understand it at all.”

“What did the letters say?”

“She said she wanted to meet me, talk to me. It’s been fifteen years! Why did she choose now to contact me?!”

“She? Your mother?!”

Winter nodded. “Here.” Laying down her knife and fork, she fumbled the pockets of her bag for the letters. “That’s the first one.” She pointed, handing them over.

Kat skim read them, the very same expression on her face as Winter’s when she first read them. “So you’ve come back to find her?” Another nod. “Are you sure about that honey, after what happened all those years ago?”

All those years ago. All. Those. Years. Ago. All those years ago and Winter could still remember clearly. It started with her father’s gambling obsession. Then came the job loss and his reputation had been damaged severely. At this point, when Winter was five, the arguments started. Next he took to drinking. The fights, the yelling, the trips to hospital, Winter could still hear their voices in her head. By her next birthday, she’d thought it was the way every family lived.

“When my mother killed my father, I found out it wasn’t.” Winter recounted her tale to the sympathetic listener. “It was the day after my seventh birthday.” And as the first teardrop made its way down Winter’s cheek, Kat reached out and held her hand.