I Remember You Laughing [Larry Stylinson]

Chapter 2- Anne And The Emails

Day Of The Game- Anne's POV

Anne sat by the phone impatiently waiting for it to ring. Just a few minutes earlier she had slammed it down. 

"Why is his phone going to voicemail!? He was supposed to be back an hour ago!" She thought as she picked it up again and dialed.

"Yes, Mrs Horan. I'm extremely worried! Harry hasn't come back yet from the game! He's supposed to be back by now. Is Niall back yet?" she asked politely.

She chatted a bit with the person on the other side for a while before thanking them and hanging up again, relieved to hear that the boys were fine and just held up by a bit of traffic.

Anne's son had never been so far from home before and she was worried he maybe couldn't handle himself in the big city or picked up in a bad crowd. She knew there were also teachers on the trip, but kids nowadays. . .

Her daughter Gemma was the troublemaker. She used have Anne worried all the time, staying out late and running away with friends. But Harry was a good boy. He did his bit on the farm and spent most his evenings playing his acoustic guitar and writing songs. Anne thought her son was very talented. A normal teenage farm boy. . . A normal teenage farm boy who smelled way sweeter, and had more hair and skin products than even she or his sister had. 

They lived on a farm so what did Anne want with nail polish? It would only get ruined everyday. She didn't understand how in the blazes Harry kept his fingernails so perfect all the time, with all the work he had to do. She didn't get Harry at all. 

She reckoned she had spoiled him too much when he was younger, and when he approached his teens she realized how far it went. When Harry was thirteen they had a massive falling out and she started confiscating his things, taking away certain privileges, and banning him from wearing anything remotely girlish to school for fear of gossip and bullying. She often worried because their relationship became strained over time.

Before his sister went off to college, the stuff  kept slowly creeping back in the house and she constantly fought with Harry, but now that it was just the two of them on the farm, she noticed Harry had become more reserved and picked up a 'punk rock' style, only preferring to wear black clothing with lots of weird accessories. She knew he still had every color nail polish stashed in his room but he only wore the darker ones as he says it's 'in' now and everyone wears it. She didn't like it at all, but she let it slide. At least it's not pink, She thought.

She was about to pick up the phone to try Harry again, when it rang out loud again!

"Hello? Yes. . . Oh!" She listened intently to the stranger on the phone, heart beating fast as she hoped it had nothing to do with Harry. Anne's body tensed and her throat clenched up as the person on the other end spoke. She had just gotten bad news. A dear friend she hadn't seen in years had passed. 

On hanging up the phone her mind traveled back to her childhood. She saw them running through grassy hills and jumping over fences. She saw them riding their horses so far out of range, the grass turned a different color. She saw the many times they walked a good distance to the lake just to jump in and spend hours in it.

 Just as she was about to let the tears fall into her hands, Harry stormed in the front door and startled her out of her thoughts.

He started apologizing all over the place but she told him she already knew about the delay. She was not in the mood to argue but she let him know how mad she was that she had to hear it from Niall's mother and that his phone needed to stay charged at all times.

"What's the sense of you having a phone if you won't use it to call me when something comes up?" She stressed. This wasn't the first time Harry's battery 'died'. She wished they had a better relationship. Harry never wanted to talk to her.

She saw that Harry was genuinely sorry, and spoke softer, "Harry when you're out there I don't know what you're doing, or if you're even. . ." she dared not speak her fears. " That's why you have a phone! You keep contact!" She said, voice breaking as she realized she wasn't talking about Harry anymore. She was talking about herself and the fact that she never kept in touch with her best friend from childhood who had moved to the city years ago- yet someone still thought of her enough to call and inform her of the passing. 

Wait-wait! She thought as she remembered something else. She remembered they had promised to keep in touch via email, and they did for a while, but-

She jumped out of her chair, mumbled to Harry about food in the kitchen and flew upstairs to her room. She dragged the chair in front of her desktop and sat down, hastily, putting on her spectacles. Opening drawers, rummaging through; she searched crazily through her journals to the pages she felt it would be.

"Where is it? Where is it?" she said, licking her finger and turning pages.

" Oh!" she exclaimed, finding the password for her old email account. She hadn't used it in years. The last time she remembered emailing her friend was before her husband died, when Gemma and Harry were very little. After that she went into a depression and closed herself off from everyone. It took her years to feel a bit of herself again...she was still struggling.

Anne quickly typed in the password and username - hoping for what?  She wasn't sure why she logged in. A part of her wanted to know if she had anything in the inbox. She doubted herself as she waited for it to load, but as the page refreshed and the home page opened up, her jaw dropped in total astonishment.

Staring back at her from the screen were exactly 5204 unopened email notifications from that old friend's email address! From the looks of it, Anne's childhood friend had been emailing her almost everyday for the last fifteen years!

She cried her eyes out as she read the first message, a letter form email, unable to hold it back anymore. She read as many as she could that night before collapsing in bed, overwhelmed.

Waking up the next morning, she quickly got breakfast and read some more, letter by letter. It went on like that for the rest of the day. She knew it would take forever to read all of them but she had to. She desperately needed to feel close to her friend again. 

As Anne read each letter she became more engrossed and intrigued by the contents. She laughed at some parts, and cried at others. It was like reading an autobiography. Every detail of events, journeys, feelings, and emotions, was described. She marveled at the fact that this person's entire life story had been laid out in these letters addressed to her.

She opened another letter, and another. . .   

While reading them, her eyes suddenly widened in astonishment and she sat up straight in her chair. Her head started spinning. Anne had stumbled upon some surprising information and sparked into action. She quickly took a page of copy paper and pushed it into the printer.

I can't believe it! She thought. This can't be a coincidence!

There was a knock on the door. 

"Mum! I made dinner if you're hungry! Roast chicken!" Harry called from outside.

She didn't even realize how late it was. Harry had come home from school, done his chores and  had time to make dinner before she even lifted her head from the computer.

"Okay Harry! I'll be down in a minute!" She answered, taking out the hot printed page. She rest it on the desk and got up, finally leaving the room. 

"Harry!" she yelled to his room. He was playing his guitar and she had to call twice before he answered. When he came out she briefly informed him of her plans for the next day and went down stairs to have dinner, the shocking emails she just read still on her mind.