The Portal

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Laurie dragged his hand across the perimeter of his bedroom, feeling the wallpaper, looking out the windows. He used to stand next to a window that had a perfect view of the portal to the Marches' attic, where he would stare at Jo for hours on end. Admiring every step she took, every word she wrote, every wave she sent his way.

He knew he acted harshly this morning, he shouldn't have reacted the way he did. In truth, he desired to wrap his arms around her. Yet, it would have only felt natural if her hand bore his mother's ring. However, her finger was blank without any mark that she was his, and that he was hers.

Before his trip Laurie decided to buy Jo's novel, he read it on the way home. Reading the words, "I couldn't keep my wife out of their clutches" was painstakingly awful for him.

How could she have placed me with Amy, he thought.

If she couldn't even give him the ending he wanted in fiction, she would never give it to him in reality.

Laurie was not sure what to do exactly, he couldn't go on living like this, but he most certainly could not talk to Jo. Laurie got to the portal and looked out at it, he saw Jo at her desk- she moved it closer to the window. Jo buried her face into the palms of her hands, making it evident that she was wounded. He wished he had stopped looking at her, but for some reason, he couldn't seem to peel his eyes away from the bouncing curls. Laurie ached to embrace her, he wanted to apologize.

No, Laurie. Stand your ground. Let her understand what she did to you and what it did to you, he reassured himself.

Jo took a break from her mourning and looked out the window, she saw Laurie standing at his once most used window. Jo decided her sister and mother's advice had been wrong, something needed to be done now. She slyly trotted down the steps making her way to Laurie's window. She gathered some fresh snow and packed it into a small sphere and chucked it at his glass.

"Laurie, I need to talk to you."

Laurie realized that Jo had come to his window, there was never a time when Jo March wasn't acting passionately.

"Jo, it's nearly dusk. What are you doing out there?"

"We need to talk, it's urgent."

"Can't this wait until dawn?"

"No, I need to talk to you now. You know my patience is as little as your love for Latin."

"Come in, Josephine! The door is open," Mr. Laurence replied.

Laurie huffed, his grandfather knew Jo all too well.

"Thank you, Mr. Laurence!"

Jo walked into the warm house glad to have escaped the cold. She slowly approached her old friend's bedroom door, what would she say? Jo didn't think this through, at all. Nevertheless, the passionate young woman knocked, hoping for a reply.

"It's open," Laurie anxiously said.

"I'm sorry-"

"It's okay, Jo. Really, I'm just tired."

"I feel- I feel like you don't care about me anymore, Teddy."

"You know that's not true, Jo."

"If it's not then why don't you answer any of my letters? Aren't we best friends? Doesn't that love surpass whatever love you felt before?"

Jo didn't understand how juvenile she sounded, the poor girl knew nothing about relationships and their care, "On top of that, you can't even give me a handshake? Or a hug, perhaps? Considering we haven't seen each other in six months?"

"Jo, what do you expect? Do you want everything to go back to normal?"

"Yes! That's exactly what I want! I want things to go back to normal."

"You know that's not feasible."

"Why not? Aren't we the same people we were six months ago?"

"I don't know, Jo. Both of our lives have changed."

"Just because our lives have changed doesn't mean we have. We are still the same people, Teddy, we are just in different seasons," Jo knew the true reason why their dynamic differed, but she didn't want to have to bring the subject to the surface again.

Laurie scratched his head, "I don't know what to say... I- "

Jo stood up to leave, "Meet me at the ice tomorrow morning at eight."

"Jo, what are you trying to do?"

As Jo was closing Laurie's bedroom door she replied to him, "Bring your skates."

Jo and Laurie: A Re-telling of the Re-tellingWhere stories live. Discover now