A Little Bit Of Joy | ✔

Chapter Forty : The Girl In The Yellow Dress

Third person's POV [Logan's POV]

On Sunday, Logan was dressed in his usual grey collared shirt and jeans, standing outside Joy's house. He had mustered enough courage to roll his sleeves up so he didn't look out of place for this warm weather. His scars were fading, but they were still there, light long lines on his forearm. Each line racing the bluish veins to his wrist, each line a story of his countless battles with loss, loneliness and depression.

He rang the doorbell as he patiently waited outside. He saw Joy's mum's face appearing through the net and when she noticed him, she smiled politely, opening the door. They exchanged a few words of greeting and before calling Joy, her mum threw another dinner invitation to Logan. Logan just thanked her, knowing that if he refused she would protest and convince him otherwise.

"Is it Logan maa?" Joy's voice cut their interaction and Logan heard loud shuffling noises. Then he saw a flurry of yellow behind her mum. "Oh it is him. Hello Logan."

"Hello Joy," he said vaguely, mesmerised by her shape. Joy was wearing a floral yellow dress with delicate sleeves and square neckline. It stopped a little above her knees, revealing pale thin legs. Logan thought that the dress couldn't suit anyone better, but Joy. It reflected Joy's luminous heart, it was made for her. "You look nice."

"She does, doesn't she?" her mother added enthusiastically, but Joy didn't look pleased. She simply turned around, letting her mum zip her dress. Once done, she grasped the jute bag from the corner table and stepped outside. "Have fun you two and tell me whether you liked the food or not!"

Joy's face was solemn as she remained quiet. When Logan realized that Joy had no intentions to be her usual cheerful self and bid farewell to her mum, he said, "Of course, thank you Mrs Jones."

Joy's mum had a rueful smile as she nodded and closed the door. Logan noticed that Joy seemed a bit relieved and sensed a rift between her and her mum. He didn't pry though, he didn't want to ruin her already spoilt mood.

"How come you always wear shirts?" Joy asked suddenly. "You can get cheaper t-shirts at sales."

"They're my dad's," Logan replied and saw Joy's face fell. He didn't want her to feel guilty of reminding him of his father, so he continued, "He was skinny and tall like my brother and me so his shirts fits."

"Genes," Joy said with a small smile. It felt comparatively easy for him to speak about his family than what he felt six weeks ago. The weight from his chest was slowly evaporating and he didn't feel like someone was squeezing him anymore. He felt lighter and happier. Earlier, he used to push Joy away, spoke guardedly and was evasive so he didn't have to utter a word about his dead family. But now, he was better. "Don't you feel sad when you wear them? Doesn't it constantly reminds you of-of . . . you know?"

"That night? No," Logan answered. "It makes me feel like-like I'm close to him. It makes me feel good."

"It does?"

Logan nodded. "Yeah, it always has."

Joy looked tired, but there was a wistful smile playing on her lips. "It makes sense now. How dumb can I be?"

"What happened?" Logan asked warily.

Joy sighed audibly. "I'm arguing with my maa from the past two days. She bought these dresses and accessories, including the one I'm wearing even though I told her not to waste money. She said that she and Gemma would use them later, but I thought how can they? I thought it would cause them nothing but misery."

"You're wrong."

"I understand now, I don't get to decide what others feel. No one does. Thanks Logan." She didn't sound thankful though, only sad. "Oh God, I owe her an apology."