Florence - (G.B.)/(B.A.)

Chapter 39

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Old Friend

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The next day had arrived earlier than expected, and Florence, Anne, and Cole were waiting eagerly at the train station with their guardians for the next train to Charlottetown. To say the two girls were excited to see what the weekend had in store for them would be an understatement.

The familiar sound of a train approaching was eventually heard, and the train quickly came to a halt in its tracks as a crowd of people began boarding it. Florence gave her grandparents a warm hug before waving them off and boarding the train with Cole. Anne boarded upon saying her own farewell to Marilla and Matthew.

Edgar wrapped a consoling arm around his wife's waist and murmured, "Take good care of yourselves." Elizabeth appeared to be on the verge of crying because she was overcome with emotion at the prospect of her granddaughter embarking on her first independent journey. She knew, however, that Anne and Cole were wonderful young children who would look after them all.

The train began moving gradually, and the children said their goodbyes to the four adults before they disappeared from view. Marilla and Matthew took advantage of the situation to approach the elderly married couple in a friendly manner. "My name is Marilla, and this is my brother, Matthew. I don't think we've been properly introduced."

"My name is Elizabeth, and this is Edgar, my husband. We're Florence's grandparents."

"Well, it's been a joy meeting you both." Marilla gave a kind smile. "Would you both like to join me and my brother for some tea at our place if you're not too busy?"

Edgar exchanged a meaningful gaze with his wife before nodding.

Florence, on the other hand, had just sat down in a booth after stowing her belongings in the overhead compartment above her seat. She sighed as she peered out the window, feeling both excited and worried about what the weekend would have in store for her. Cole had gone to locate a restroom and had left the two girls alone for a while.

Anne sat down, just across from her. "I don't believe I've ever asked, and you haven't mentioned it, but how do you know Aunt Josephine?"

"We met around a year ago," Florence explained, "I'm glad that she invited me to her party . . . I would've thought she completely forgot about me."

"I'm particularly familiar with Aunt Josephine. She's thoughtful and compassionate. She may be a little older, but she still treats life as if she were a little girl, which I tremendously admire."

Florence nodded and parted her lips to respond, but she was interrupted by Cole. "I'm going to hope that both of you are being truthful," he said as he took a seat next to her. "Unlike you, I'm meeting her for the first time."

"Don't worry, she's quite kind," said Anne, "Oh, I completely forgot that my lovely Diana will also be there."

"She's Diana's aunt, right?" Florence asked and received a nod.

For the rest of the train ride, there was a comfortable stillness rather than a loud conversation. The three friends exchanged a few laughs here and there, but because the ride to Charlottetown was brief, they soon found themselves exiting the train and catching a carriage ride to Josephine Barry's residence.

***

Florence was never a huge music lover. She didn't enjoy it as much as other children her age did, and she was never required to play an instrument. It wasn't that she had never been interested in it before, but she had some unpleasant memories of it. Her father was a musician; not professionally, but in his spare time, he enjoyed playing the banjo, and practically every night before bed, he would serenade Florence with a tune or two while she nestled up under the covers. When she thought back to those times, they seemed like a faraway memory. A memory that she, unfortunately, no longer wanted to think of.

But today, staring at the pianist who was playing for this party, she felt at ease, and this music wasn't something she wanted to avoid like she usually did. Florence watched as her fingers glided across the keys, and she could see that she was putting a lot of effort into this one song, making it memorable. She sensed the sensation; it was a little dark, but more captivating than anything else. After what happened to her father, she never imagined she could feel anything through music. Of course, she was proved wrong.

She cast a glance around the room at the other guests and sensed that they were aware of it as well. Diana Barry was beaming as she listened to Cecile, the pianist, which was natural given that she was herself a musician. Anne and Cole were entranced as well, with their eyes shut.

Florence sighed and walked away from the scene to look for a flower crown. She noticed a table full of them on the other side of the room. She carefully placed one that stuck out among the others on top of her head. She then proceeded to make her way out of the ballroom, immersed in the sound of music that only served to depress her.

As she searched for an exit, she encountered a variety of people, each with their own distinct flair, which they were not afraid to flaunt to the public. She wondered if they all had regular lives and could only be themselves at gatherings like this. People with unique hairdos, long gowns, and high hats. They were all looking forward to the party, as made evident by their expressions.

Florence walked out and took a seat outside the room, not too far away to be mistaken for a non-guest, but far enough away that she no longer needed to hear the music. Only then did she allow tears to fall from her eyes, each one faster than the last, drenching her face as melancholy emotions stifled her thoughts.

"Now, what's a lovely lady like you doing out here by herself?"

Florence raised her eyes to Josephine Barry's sympathetic gaze. She quietly chuckled as she wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her dress. "All I needed was some alone time."

Josephine seemed surprised. "At my party? Absolutely unacceptable. I simply won't allow it."

The young brunette sighed, gaze falling to the ground. "I'm sorry . . . I just . . ."

Josephine took a seat right beside the girl and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I understand, there's no reason to apologize. But I'll understand better if you tell me why you were crying just now."

"That obvious, huh?"

"The tears in your eyes are a dead giveaway." Josephine wiped away Florence's teary cheeks with a handkerchief. "I'm also quite good at reading emotions."

Florence stayed silent for a few moments, unsure how to explain why she was crying. But she knew she could rely on Josephine Barry as she looked up at her. Furthermore, expressing why she felt a certain way previously was usually beneficial to her.

"The music that Cecile is playing . . ." Florence began. "It's great, by the way. Wonderful even. And it's because it's so great . . . It brings me back to the time my father used to play for me before he . . . passed."

"You know, I was sad when my Gertrude passed away. I didn't think I'd ever been able to live a regular life again because she was my life in every way. For a while, it certainly seemed like that. However, I was soon able to return to normal life; I won't deny that I did so with a little help, but I managed. And it worked out. I told myself that maybe my life wasn't quite over yet. In fact, it could only be getting started. Different, yes, because Gertrude was no longer here, but almost like a new awakening. My point is that just because a part of us is no longer with us, doesn't mean that everything has come to an end. It's perfectly fine to be reminded of someone and feel upset or even cry, but it's also important to remember that we're still alive. Living for them, for ourselves, for the ones who are still with us, or perhaps living for all three. Since the beginning of time, crying has been a sign that we are alive."

Florence wasn't sure when she broke down crying again, but these weren't tears of despair; instead, these were tears of a sort of revelation, not quite of happiness. She didn't know how much or how long she needed this conversation until Josephine had literally spoken to all of her desires. Florence drew the elder woman in for a deep and soothing hug, repeating a variety of 'thank you's.' Josephine, a bit surprised at first, returned the hug with a smile.

Everything was finally making sense to Florence.