The Expansion of the Universe {Completed}

Sixty-Seven | "So, this is the end of the season?"

"You know, baby," Mom mused, "you don't have to watch this."

Liza hummed, shifting from foot to foot as she peered out the front window of Elijah's condo and to the left, where her (former) home stood. From the outside, the only indication that something had occurred was the plywood covering the opening where the front door should have been.

Inside the condo, though . . . Well, she hadn't seen it personally, since she, Whitney, and Elijah had all agreed that it would do no good for her mental health to witness whatever evidence remained of the attack.

Not that there was much left, considering how long she had been in the hospital. Nonetheless, Elijah and Austin had been kind enough to gather her belongings and move them to Elijah's condo before she'd even been discharged, so she would never have to go back into her old house, now filled with dark memories.

Watching as a pair of workers hoisted a new door from the bed of a truck while others added the finishing touches to the front yard, she chewed on her lower lip.

"It's so weird," Liza murmured. "I mean, it's just washed away, you know? Just like that. For other people, anyway." Anyone who hadn't been directly affected—the workers, her landlord, strangers who heard about it briefly on the news—would forget about the incident. The stranger who would move into her condo would have no idea about the blood which had been spilled within the location.

The plane crash had been similar, in a sense, though the families of all those who died were affected. In this case, it was just Liza and her loved ones who knew the details of Carson Pierce, Rod Hubbard, and how a thirst for revenge could steal away any semblance of joy.

"It is odd, but I suppose we all truly do have our own problems," Mom agreed absently. "Everyone's facing something, even if no one else is aware of it, and we often forget that."

Liza couldn't help but smile. She had missed being around her mother and the woman's ever-present wisdom and compassion. "Yeah." She blew out a sigh. "It feels like it's a conclusion, you know?" The men were lining up the new door and preparing to mount it to the wall. "Like, this is the end."

Dainty but calloused fingers dusted against Liza's, and she was quick to hold on and squeeze her mom's hand. "I wouldn't call it the end," Mom mused. "Or, at least, not the real end. It's like a season finale."

Liza snorted. "Have you been watching a lot of Netflix recently?"

Mom's smile turned sheepish. "Something like that. They have this show called Vampire Diaries, and I'm no cougar, but when I tell you that those men could make me young again—"

"Mom!" she shrieked through shocked laughter. "Oh, my God!"

"Come on, hon, we're both adults. Plus, that show is old enough that they might be about my age, now." She threw Liza a wink, to which she rolled her eyes.

"That doesn't mean I need to hear my mom lusting after actors." Not that she truly minded. It was actually kind of nice to be talking about some lighter topics, like she and her mom had before the plane crash.

"Would you prefer I lusted after singers? Because there are so many that are—"

"Okay, Mom, that's good, thank you." Her voice was colored with fond annoyance, but her smile didn't fade even as she shot her mom a feigned exasperated look. "I get the idea. Have you considered dating or something?" When Liza had been in college, she recalled her mom going on a couple of dates, but the woman had never been in a serious relationship that Liza could recall.

Mom shrugged, her eyes shifting back to Liza's old condo, where the men had removed the plywood, installed the door and were now placing the doorknob and reassessing all the measurements and alignment. "There's a man at church who is awful kind to me. His previous wife passed away from cancer about ten years ago, which is so sad, but he is a lovely person." Was all the older woman said.