Girl in the Red Hood (10 page)

Anger and pain mixed in her stomach, and she
couldn't have uttered a word, even if she'd wanted to. It didn't
matter, though. Warin didn't look up, just continued to caress the
item in his lap as if it were a child. "I know I been drinkin' more
than I should. When I saw that your dress is too short the other
day, I realized I don't have enough money to buy you new things
like I ought, and it made me think-" his voice hitched, and it was
a moment before he could speak again. "It made me think of what
your mum would say if she could see you now. She would let me have
it for not buying you new things, and for spending so much time
away." He finally looked up at her, his eyes rimmed red with tears.
"I know I haven't been there when you needed me to be. I know...in
truth, I've been a lousy father. Your mum, she kept me on the
straight and narrow. I just...I don't know how to live well without
her. I'm tryin', but that's the best I can do." Liesel could only
watch him in shock. She hadn't heard him speak so many words since
they'd come to the forest.

"The night you ran away...the night we lost
her...I nearly ended it all then and there. Knowin' I had let her
die, even though you tried to warn me, and then knowin' you were
out in the woods alone. I was so close to givin' up. Then that
hunter brought you back, and I had to go on. But I couldn't, not
without help." Not without the drink, Liesel thought wryly. "I
thought I could bury it all. But then I saw that your dress is too
short...," he faltered again, finally holding up the object in his
hands. As it unfolded, Liesel realized it was one of her mother's
old dresses. Tears streamed down her father's face as he looked at
her beseechingly. "I can't imagine all the awful things she'd say
if she could see all the ways I've hurt her girl."

As if in a daze, Liesel walked just close
enough to touch the dress. Liesel had never seen her father cry,
other than the night she was rescued from the wolf, and she
couldn't be unaffected by his tears. And yet, the vestiges of the
last two years were still with her. If she closed her eyes, she
could still feel the hunger in her belly and the weakness in her
legs. She was still haunted by the afternoon in the healer's house,
where Warin held her back as she tried to save her mother's life.
She still heard her grandmother's screams as she watched the cabin
fade in the distance. How many times he had hurt her. How many
times must she forgive him? Liesel scrunched her eyes to block out
the sight of her broken father on the floor, begging her
forgiveness. She didn't want to forgive him. He'd hurt her too many
times.

"You never know, my Leese." Amala's voice
echoed in her mind. Immediately, Liesel was back in their old
kitchen in the city, helping her mother roll out dough. She was
young, only five or six, and she had just asked her mother why she
always told Warin she loved him when he left in the mornings. Her
parents had carried on a loud disagreement the night before,
although Liesel couldn't recall what it had been about. She just
remembered asking her mother why she would tell her father she
loved him even when she was mad at him. Amala had shaken her head
and given Liesel a wry smile. "You never know when you'll see
someone again. I may be angry, but if the Maker calls him, I don't
want to regret my last words." Liesel opened her eyes again. She
was still angry, and she knew she would be for a long time. But
deep down, she knew her mother was right.

"I...I suppose we could get a ribbon," she
heard herself saying in a faint voice. "We could get one that's
dark blue, to match this." Taking the dress from her father, Liesel
buried her face in it. It smelled a bit dusty, but her mother's
scent lingered there as well. As she stood there, clutching the
dress, she felt Warin wrap his own arms around her.

"I'm goin' to do better, Leese!" he
whispered fiercely. "I promise." Amid all the emotions Liesel felt
flying around in her heart, in that moment she wanted to believe
him. A sad voice inside, however, whispered that it would be a long
time before she could.

***

Two weeks later, Liesel had her ribbon. It
was the only silk she had ever owned, and deep down, she had
decided the moment they'd purchased it that she would have rather
kept it for herself and simply wear it than ruin it with embroidery
for the dance. But if it would please her father, she was willing
to give it a try. Since the day he'd noticed her newfound height,
Warin truly had been making an effort to spend more time with
Liesel. In fact, he was around so often she could hardly leave the
house without him trailing after her. In desperation, she finally
sent him to the tavern one day with enough coins for two drinks so
she could sneak out to see Kurt without her father following along
like a new puppy. Kurt's opinion of her father was one that
involved words Liesel couldn't repeat.

While Liesel was grateful that her father
was finally taking an interest in her, she had finally begun to
harvest her garden, and she really needed Kurt to teach her how to
preserve the food. At least, that's what she told herself. But in
her heart, she knew she missed him as much as she needed him.
Garden or no garden, she needed to see Kurt.

He was sitting in their usual spot atop the
waterfall's ledge when she arrived. She'd been tall enough to climb
the ledge without his help for some time, so the waterfall had
become their place of meeting. There were days when she'd climbed
up alone, days when his father had kept him home helping with the
family. On those days, she would sit still and think, or sometimes
mend a piece of clothing. The water's rushing sound was relaxing,
as was being able to see the contour of her mountain in the
distance. From the look on Kurt's face, however, it seemed he'd
spent more afternoons waiting alone for her lately, and they hadn't
brought him the same peace they brought her. Guiltily, she went to
her usual sitting rock and avoided his gaze. The fire he'd lit and
the frying pan he had brought with him piqued her interest, but she
didn't ask.

"You've been busy," his voice was resentful.
Liesel sighed.

"I'm sorry, Kurt. Things have
been...different lately."

"Different. I see." Taken aback by the anger
in his voice, Liesel peeked at her companion. He was glaring at the
fire. While she did feel bad about being gone so much, Liesel
couldn't help but wonder what had brought this storm on. Frowning,
she drew out her ribbon and began to embroider her name onto it, a
task she had been putting off as long as she could. The dance was
the next evening, however, and her father had been asking when she
would be ready to cast her ribbon for the first dance.

"So what's his name?" Kurt spit out.

"His name?" Liesel looked at him
blankly.

"The one that ribbon is for. The one that's
so interesting." It took Liesel a moment to realize what he was
really saying.

"You're jealous!" she exclaimed. He frowned
even harder at the flames.

"I am not!" But Liesel couldn't keep the
smile from her lips or the blush from her cheeks. While his guess
was wildly off, Liesel could not help feeling a bit smug. A year
ago, she'd desperately worried that Kurt would tire of her. She'd
never expected him to be the one to fret about losing her.

"Kurt, why can't you come to the dance?"

"You know that. My father won't let me."

"And my father is why I am going." He raised
his eyebrows incredulously at her, and when he spoke, his voice was
sarcastic.

"Your father is making you go to the dance?"
He shook his head and went back to poking the fire. "Now I know
you're making things up."

"No, truly." Liesel seated herself beside
him and crossed her legs. Her grandmother had always fussed that
sitting in such a way was improper, but neither Kurt not the
woodland creatures had ever seemed to mind. "He thinks I am going
to have fun at this awful thing. I'm only going because he wants me
to."

"So why the sudden interest in whether you
live or die?"

"Something reminded him of my mother,"
Liesel said softly. It was a long while before Kurt responded.
Finally, she sighed, "I know he has been awful, but-"

"He almost let you starve!" Kurt blurted
out. "And he would have if-" he stopped himself before he went on,
but Liesel knew what he was going to say.

"I haven't forgotten about that," she said
quietly. "I never will. But my mother is dead, Kurt. Isn't it
understandable that I might want something with the one parent I
have left?" She looked down at the ground. "My father will never be
able to love me like my mother. He wants to love me though.
Wouldn't you want that from your father?"

"I suppose," he mumbled. Liesel breathed a
sigh of relief. She knew he would come around. He was too good not
to. "But are you sure you're only going to this dance because he
wants you to?" He finally looked up at her, no longer scowling, but
not yet smiling either. She gave him the most reassuring smile she
could.

"I promise." She laughed, "I told him no one
will want to dance with me though. It's a waste of time."

"Look, are we going to do this or not?" Kurt
grumbled.

"Do what?"

"I was
going
to show you how to
preserve the vegetables, but if you're too excited about this
dance-"

"Kurt!" Liesel finally grabbed her ribbon
and tried to smack him on the head with its tail. "I will happily
beat you to death with this ribbon if you don't let it go!"

"Alright! Alright!" he threw his hands up,
and laughing, reached down for the large pan at his feet. "I
brought some of the early stuff from our garden to show you how to
cook them, even before I show you how to keep them. You probably
didn't have all of these foods in your fancy city kitchens, so you
need to know how they taste." Relieved and happy, Liesel spent the
rest of the afternoon and evening watching her friend show off his
unusual skills. She'd never heard of a boy that knew how to cook
and preserve food. The city boys would have frowned upon that as
womanly. But, she considered, Kurt was an unusual boy. As she was
beginning to walk back towards her own home, Liesel turned one more
time.

"Just so you know, when we have our
adventure one day, we can go anywhere we want." She meant her words
to be reassuring, but Kurt frowned just a little before nodding
silently and turning to go. Liesel puzzled over this all the way
home. For some questions, however, she decided, there were no easy
answers. Kurt was full of mysteries. She would simply have to work
harder at solving them.

The next
evening, Liesel walked beside her father, trying desperately to
look more composed than she felt. Wearing her mother's dress to
this festival had been hard enough. It was like admitting all over
again that she was dead. As long as the clothes had stayed in the
trunk, it had seemed like they were simply waiting for their owner
to return. Taking them out, washing them, and even fixing the moth
holes hadn't been so bad. They had still smelled of Amala, a scent
Liesel had spent hours breathing in before she'd washed them.
Wearing them though, had been completely different. Her father had
been right. She was finally tall enough. But wearing them was
admitting that Amala was never coming home. And though Liesel had
admitted it before, it killed her to do so again.

The idea of trying to catch a dancing
partner on top of that was nearly too much. She'd almost feigned an
illness to stay home, but when she saw the way her father looked at
her in her mother's dress, she knew she couldn't. Tears gathered at
the corners of his eyes, and a genuine, gentle smile lit his
face.

"You look just like her, Leese. I always
said that hair was a halo of its own." With that, he offered Liesel
his arm and they left for an evening she knew was a huge
mistake.

"You know your mum was the best dancer in
the city," Warin's eyes were bright with the memory. Liesel
couldn't help but be intrigued. "That's how we met. Her ribbon was
pulled, and I got the first dance."

"She told me you met on Holy Day!" Warin's
grin just grew, and he wriggled his brows mischievously.

"It's true that I first saw her then, comin'
out of the church, but we didn't meet. Your grandfather took one
look at me and took your mum straight home. He couldn't get rid of
me that easy, though! From the moment I laid eyes on your mum, I
knew I was going to marry that girl. You should have seen the look
on his face when he saw me pull her ribbon at the dance!" Warin was
laughing now, his big voice booming down the quiet road they
walked. Liesel had to smile along with him. When he found something
funny, which was highly unusual outside the tavern, Warin's laugh
was catching.

"How did you manage to pull her ribbon?"

"I bribed the mayor."

"You what?" Liesel gasped. The ribbon dance
wasn't by any means sacred to her, but she knew some couples who
had wedded solely because of the ribbon dance. They believed the
Maker had coupled them that way, and so it was meant to be. The
Holy Man had preached against such superstition, but there were a
good many families that still held the dance as much more than a
festival tradition. Every town in the region had its own ribbon
dance, according to Liesel's grandmother. That her father would
interfere with something so important shouldn't have surprised her,
but she'd thought even he had limits, but apparently not. Still,
from the joy the memory had brought to his face, he believed it had
been the right thing to do.

"Your mother was so lovely, Leese. Your
grandmother had insisted on puttin' her hair up in some ridiculous
curls before they arrived. Said it was only proper. But as the
evenin' went on, and we danced into the night, the more her hair
fell out of place until it floated around her. It was like seein'
waves of golden wheat rollin' in the wind. We danced the whole
time, and when it was all done, I tried to kiss her. She would have
none of that though! Said I'd have to marry her before she let me
steal any such sweetness from her.