[COMPLETED] There are two things you can count on in a small town, bad weather and boys who can make your heart thump faster than a horse's hooves
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Beatrice was used to her relatively quiet life, but th...
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"Okay Mable, let's get you in the buggy," I buckle her up in the little seat and place her tilting hat properly on her head. "You look so cute baby!" I giggle as I take pictures on my phone.
I sigh and ease my way back up to a normal standing position, "Let's go post this shall we?" I wiggle the brown envelop full of pictures and a letter in front of her and watch as her tiny fingers try to grab a hold of it.
For the past few months, I had been procrastinating going out. I'd blamed it on being too tired or being too busy with school when the truth was I was just terrified of going outside and running into someone from back home.
I wasn't ashamed of Mable, ever. I just didn't want to have to tell my story before I was ready. Mable didn't deserve to be a part of malicious gossiping, my sweet little flower. I only went outside now because I knew that if my mother didn't get any pictures she would fly down here to New York and take some herself.
I grab my keys out of the fruit basket and open the door, trying carefully to avoid pushing the buggy directly over the bump and into the dip by the door.
"Going out?" Ryan asks when he sees me. I had managed to make it down to the lobby without being seen by any of my neighbours until now.
"Yeah," I wave the envelop and continue to push the big forwards.
"Do you want to maybe get some tea?" He asked once I got closer to the door.
I glance at him, still in his office attire with a pair of black fashionable glasses and the traditional old man newspaper under his arm. He was completely serious, no joking grin was evident on his face.
I search for excuses that I hadn't already given him but came up with none, "you're going to have to wait." I answer, hoping that the parcel in my hand would make him decide that he couldn't wait that long.
"I can walk you there." He says with a shrug of his shoulder. I nod my head slowly and push Mable through the opened door, nodding at Ryan as so pass.
The streets of New York are busy, as per usual. The smell of expensive cologne and perfume burned my nose. I'd only grown accustomed to two types, my dad's and Keaton's. My eyes started to water at the memory.
The post office wasn't far from where we lived, a mid-rise apartment that I could only afford because my parents insisted on giving me money as a teenager and I insisted on making my own. It would take us exactly ten minutes if only ten people stopped to look at Mable which was a bit on the high side of an estimate, even for Mable. New Yorkers were too busy to stop and say Hello, another thing that separated people from here and back home.
