(Have some in-solangelo related fluff)
"You know, I like it here, your parents don't know what they're missing."
Cassidy tossed her dark curls over her shoulder and grinned, her smile lighting up her face like a ray of sunshine. Her blue eyes sparkled like sapphires in the midday sun and Amy found herself smiling back, and she felt a warm, giddy feeling blossom in her chest.
Amy Mae's parents had never cared for the orchard. They were too busy with work to tend to it, and often forgot they even owned this particular plot of land. Because of this, Amy had visited the orchard every year to see overgrown vines on the brick walls that encircled the land and dense undergrowth painting the orchard various shades of green.
When Amy first felt the beginnings of a crush on Cassidy Reed, she'd allowed herself to hope, that this time, she wouldn't get her heart broken. This time, she didn't think she could put the her fragile heart of glass together again. More and more pieces were lost each time it crumbled.
Cassidy had been her best friend for years, and Amy liked to think that maybe Cassidy got butterflies every time she saw her too. She liked to think that bringing Cassidy here was not a mistake she would come to regret. She liked to think she wasn't blushing up a storm--but she liked to think a lot of things, it didn't mean it was true.
"I don't hate them, you know. I know they're just busy."
They've been busy for the past four years.
Amy remembered the days when she came to the orchard, crying, her heart seizing in her chest as she ran from her own heartbreak. They had been so cruel. She tried to pass off the bruises as her being clumsy. And tried to rid herself of the tearstained cheeks so she could walk the streets unquestioned.
Cassidy merely shook her head with a breathy laugh. "The sky looks so beautiful." Indeed, the sky was beautiful, bursting with bright oranges and soft plumes of pink clouds lazily crossed the harsh array of warm colors that flushed the heavens above her. But the sky seemed to be nothing in comparison to the girl at her side.
She felt hope bubble up in her chest until it grew painful to breathe and she let out a shaky breath. She looked down at the emerald blades of grass below her as she found herself fumbling for ways to say those words confidently.
"Cassidy?"
"Yes?"
"I think I love you."
"I think I love you too."
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Amy held the crying baby in her arms, whispering a nursery rhyme under her breath to soothe her. Kate was fussy today, and had been ever since Cassidy left to visit her mother upstate.
Amy had been miffed at first, her imaginary feathers ruffled with irritation at the favoritism, but she couldn't say she blamed her daughter one bit. Cassidy leaving town left Amy with an emotional child she still had no idea how to deal with.
The baby kept crying, only stopping to sneeze a bunch of snot onto Amy's shirt.
Amy had never felt so ready for death.
Finally the infant seemed to tire herself out, and she dozed off, her cheek resting on her mother's shoulder, large green eyes drifting closed, chubby fingers clenching the fabric of Amy's shirt. Amy refused to smile at the peaceful scene.
Not while she had snot on her clothes.
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The flowers dropped to the ground.
Kate frowned down at the headstone, nose scrunching up adorably in a display of confusion. "Mommy...is this Mama?" Her hands were too small, her face unblemished and still round with baby fat. She was far too young to see this.
Amy felt her heart clench up in pain, and her throat closed up as she prepared for tears. They clouded her gaze and she nodded her head in confirmation and forced herself to smile. "That's Mama," she said the words in a small voice that made her daughter look at her wide green eyes and stare.
Kate's dark ginger curls fell in her face as she leaned down to inspect the gravestone, and Amy stifled a laugh. "Whatcha doin' sweetheart?"
"Willing myself to be able to read."
Amy did laugh this time, and Kate beamed, pride filling the atmosphere. Mommy was smiling again. Everything would be okay.
Amy gave her daughter a grin before she opened her mouth to speak. "Want to make sugar cookies when we get home."
"Hell yeah."
"Kate."
"Hell yes?"
Amy walked away from the single gravestone that resided within the confines of the orchard, her heart warm and her mind filled with memories, and she couldn't help but think of Cassidy.
But this time the memories weren't painful.
They were wistful.
But the smell of sugar cookies and the sound of Kate humming the song to The Nightmare Before Christmas overpowered her grief.
