Lily Evans
The smell of greasy bacon rouses him before the sun is fully in the sky. The tiny guest room that he slept in faced east so the bright rays poked into his eyes through the half closed shutters.
I'm in America.
I'm in America.
I'm in America.
Despite what many people had told him, the feeling was not all that great or freeing. He didn't feel a surge of independence or courage or anything. He just felt plain miserable and he wanted to sink into the bed so far that he would suffocate. Remus just wanted to get on the quickest flight back to Wales. Back to breezy summers and the comfort of home.
I'm in America.
I'm in America.
I'm in America.
It rung in his head like a mantra, a phrase he repeated over and over again to make it make sense but it still didn't. None of this felt real. Sure the soft grey duvet and the plush green pillows felt real, and the warmth of the morning sun, yes that felt real too but it didn't make sense in his head.
He found that Aunt Holly had replaced the begotten pajamas on the dresser with freshly laundered cloths. A pair of denim trousers and a loose fitting tee shirt with some punk band printed on the front. He's thankful to change out of the itchy jumper and loose trousers he had slept in. He must have kicked his shoes off at one point because he's just wearing his socks.
Following the smell of greasy bacon, Remus makes his way downstairs and into the kitchen. Holly is there standing at the stove on the island, stirring eggs in cracked mug and sizzling a few pieces of bacon on a copper pan. She's wearing blue and white nurses scrubs with yellow sneakers and her bouncy curls pulled back into a tight bun. Her face lights up when she see's him enter through the living room and into the kitchen.
"How'd you sleep sweetie?"
Remus shrugged and sat at the breakfast table, tucking his long legs beneath the chair. "Fine. Thank you for the clothes." He tugged at the loose black punk tee shirt.
Holly beamed at this, making his ears go pink. "Of course! We'll go shopping for everything tomorrow. I have a bit of money saved up so we can go and get ice cream afterwards."
"Oh. You don't have to."
Holly shook her head and waved the fork at him. "No no. My treat. You've had a long few months and I know for sure ice cream here is better than it is in Wales."
Remus chuckled and thought of his favorite ice cream which was raspberry sorbet. Off the cart in St Davids. How it tasted like summer and spring all rolled into a cone. Nothing could top raspberry sorbet, especially Welsh dairy too.
"I don't think that American ice-cream can be better."
Holly laughed. "Oh you just wait and see Remus. Everything here is better. Candy, sodas, everything. When I get my hands on some Packers tickets we're going to see some American football, you and I."
Remus frowned. What the hell was a Packer?
"I'll believe it when I see it," Remus puffed out his chest and tried not to smile. She was being too kind to him, the aunt that he barely knew well enough to be living with now. Buying him clothes and getting him ice-cream. What had he done to deserve any of it?
"Well don't be surprised when I'm right," She sang, humming to a tune playing on the radio. He was pretty sure it was ABBA but the music was faint and the sound of sizzling, mouth watering bacon filled his ears. It looked so good, covered in grease and crisping up just right.
The kitchen was full of life despite it just being Holly. She took up the whole room with her presence and she wasn't all that tall either. Humming along to a tune he didn't know, maybe she didn't either, a smile on her face despite losing her half sister just a few months ago.
Remus didn't understand any of it.
How could she be so happy and carefree when her sister had died? When he was here, thus becoming a burden that she unwillingly had to carry. All because his mum had written is down that she would take care of him in the event of her death. Something that she had promised would never happened.
"So," Holly looked at him expectantly. "I wont' be home until seven or so. I have an extra bike in the garage you can use if you want to ride around town. There's a nice burger joint in the middle of town. You'll find it easily."
"Oh. Okay."
"If you get hungry, there's good food in the fridge, just don't touch my wine," She pointed the fork at him with narrowed eyes. "and I'll leave a little bit of money for you today."
Remus shook his head. "You don't have to do that,"
"Oh stop it," Holly shook her head. "just don't spend it all in one sitting. Money doesn't grow on trees."
He felt bad. Here he was all broken and bruised and she was taking care of him like he was her own son. Giving him an extra bike and lunch money like she did it everyday. He felt guilty because he was taking advantage of this kindness. He didn't deserve to be treated like this. He wished he would have stayed in that stupid hospital ward. He wished he had stayed in Wales so he wasn't bothering his aunt.
"Alright," Remus swallowed the lump in his throat. "Do you need me to do any chores? Housework?"
Holly shook her head, flipping the bacon with her fork. "No no. Not today. Not this week even. Your job is to settle in sweetie."
"But I can help." He protested. He couldn't just let her take care of him and offer nothing in return.
"No." Said Holly firmly, her blue eyes stern and commanding. "you can clean up after your messes, yes. But you're not to do any chores, any heavy lifting. The doctor in Wales said so anyways. You don't want to reopen your wounds."
Remus wanted to stand up and yell that his wounds had been stitched and stapled over, the surgeries where done and completed and his bones had healed. He wouldn't be reopening his new scars unless he wanted too. And he would have try really hard if he wanted to. He wanted to tell her off and say that he wasn't eight years old and he could rake some leaves or even do the dishes if he had to.
But before he could argue his case, she loaded a helping of scrambled eggs and greasy bacon onto a paper plate and slid it in front of him.
"Looks good, huh?" Holly grinned at him, seeing the hungry, wolfish look on his face. "I don't cook well, or much. But I can make eggs at the least."
"It looks bloody fantastic," Remus said quietly, hoping his eyes said as many thank you's as he felt.
"Well good, but don't expect me to cook every morning for you," Holly winked at him, shutting the stove top off and clattering the dishes into the barn sink. "and it would be a good skill for a boy to learn."
His own mother had never let him cook in the kitchen. Sure when they made brownies or biscuits she let him cracks the eggs and whisk the bowl, even letting him lick the whisk afterwards too. But cooking? Mum had a firm belief that women where the cooks and that little boys like him where to shut up and eat whatever they put in front of them. It seemed that Holly didn't share the same sentiment.
"Okay," He said in between bites of scrambled eggs. He missed having beans on toast in the morning, along with thick bowls of cinnamon porridge but this American breakfast was the most delicious thing he ever had, albeit the greasiness of it all. "I can try."
"But if you burn my house down," Holly said in a light tone. "I'll make you do all my laundry for the rest of your life."
Remus wrinkled his nose at the prospect of having to wash potentially bloody and gut covered nurses scrubs.
"I'll do my best, I swear."
Holly ruffled his floppy blonde curls and he felt a shiver run down the length of his spine from the motherly touch. "Good. You're a good boy, Remus. I have a feeling you're going to love it here."
Remus could only shrug. He was so far from home that the sickening feeling in his chest hurt worse than his bad hip and his healing scars that marred half his body. The titanium rod in his arm tingled and the screws in his hand burned like hot fire. He hadn't taken his meds in almost a day now. How would he love this town when it wasn't even his home?
Home was three thousand miles away, in a quaint cottage in Wales with his mothers garden and his fathers workbench. It was the sound of David Bowie on the record player and the smell of fresh baked biscuits that where right out of the oven.
Holly brushed her hands on her uniform and slung a purse around her shoulder, fastening a bright, chirpy smile at Remus. It was maddening, how happy she was still. Almost unsettling.
"Alrighty then, I'm off. I'll be home at seven, I hope sooner. Is there anything else you need, sweetie?"
Take me home.
Take me back to Wales.
I don't want to be here anymore.
I'm sorry.
I'm such burden on you.
Remus opened his mouth, wanting to say what he really thought but couldn't get the words past his lips. So instead he just shook his head.
"I'll be okay."
"If there's an emergency, go next door to the yellow house. That's where the Evans live, they're very nice and Mrs. Evans can help you in a jiffy."
Remus doubted that there would be an emergency. What would he be doing to cause an emergency? He wouldn't be trying to start any fires and he wasn't mad enough to even want to start a fire. Besides, the prospect of washing a bloody nurses uniform was disgustingly fresh in his mind.
"You don't have to worry about me," Remus said softly. "I don't plan on doing much anyways."
He didn't have any friends to do much with at all. He hadn't had very many in Wales either, but that didn't matter really because all of his friends there where his school friends. His mum and dad had been his best friends. Playing football in the front yard, baking biscuits with his mom. He had books and wandering nearby meadows and at the time that had been enough because it was fulfilling and real.
This wasn't real. It was a stupid, stupid nightmare he wanted to wake up from.
Holly patted his cheek softly. "I'm sure you'll be up to your neck with things to do by the end of the summer. I just know it."
"
I guess so," Remus took a hefty bite of eggs, and it felt good to fill his stomach with real food, not sticky hospital jello or mashed potatoes like the doctors had given him for every meal.
"See you tonight then, sweetie." Holly kissed the top of Remus's head and he felt another shiver slither down his spine from the warm touch. His aunt gave him one last warm look before grabbing a set of keys and heading out the kitchen door to the driveway. He watched her back the silver Ford Fiesta and spin down the street.
After finishing his breakfast, Remus decided to explore the house. If he was going to live here he might as well know the layout of his new home. The living room was nice, with a squashy red couch and a yellow leather arm chair facing a little TV stand. There was a little den with a large wooden desk and a swivel chair that was comfortable(he spun in it until he got dizzy), and a few certificates where framed on the walls. And there was a tiny dining room with only four chairs and a little lamp hanging down from the ceiling onto the table.
He didn't get excited until he saw the basement. It was a door right off to the kitchen, which he had first figured was the pantry, until he swung it open and nearly toppled down the rickety wooden steps. He flicked the switch on and made his way down the squeaking steps.
It was unfinished and small, with concrete walls and floors. A washer and dryer where pushed up against the wall next to a basin sink and a freezer. Another squashy couch, but this time in yellow facing another TV. A couple of folding chairs surrounded a cracked coffee table next to the couch. There was a back room covered by a curtain and there where lots of boxes stacked everywhere. Posters of 70s and 80s rock bands covered most of the walls and a little shower that had more boxes stacked in it was pushed against the corner.
And another door, which Remus swung open again, this time looking up at a set of concrete stairs and into broad daylight.
He trudged up the stairs slowly, wincing at the shooting pain in his hip. He really needed to take those meds he had.
When he made it to the top of the steps, he was right next to the side door of the kitchen, by the little covered porch with two little white wicket seats on it. And much to his surprise, the driveway was not just consisting of him, but another person.
He blinked, staring at the red-headed girl who had a basketball in her hands and her back turned to him, using the hoop pushed up against the hedges next to the yellow house.
Rooted to the spot, Remus just frowned. Why was this girl using the hoop in Hollys driveway? And when the girl turned around to grab the ball after she had missed the shot off the backboard, her very green eyes landed on him with the same surprise he must have had on his face as well.
"Oh! Hello!" The girl said brightly, grabbing her basketball and tucking it beneath her arms. She had a grey ABBA tee on and loose jean shorts, her long red hair fall way past her shoulders in crimson sheets.
Remus just stared at her, his eyes probably bulging out of his head like a daft cow.
"You must be Holly's new nephew!" Said the girl, her green eyes wide, he saw them pass his marred face with a bit of surprise.
Remus nodded. "Yeah. I am."
The girl stepped closer and she looked so kind, her smile soft and she looked so comfortable with herself that it nearly made Remus sick. What was with these Americans being so happy and cheerful all the time? Was there something in their drinking water?
"I live next door," The girl pointed to the yellow house. "My name is Lily."
"Oh. That's nice."
"You're supposed to say your name too, you know." Lily chuckled. "I mean if we're going to be neighbors, I should know your name."
His tongue felt glued to his mouth. Why was she talking to him? Why was she playing basketball in Holly's driveway and how had she known that he was going to live here? Maybe Holly had told Mrs Evans and Lily had overheard it. Or maybe Holly had told everyone in this town she was caring for her scarred nephew. He decided that the first option was better than the second, as it seemed a bit dramatic for his taste.
"It's Remus."
Lily wrinkled her nose. "Like the Roman guy?"
"I guess. I didn't know there was a Roman guy named Remus." He admits softly. He didn't know why his parents named him Remus of all things but he had simply accepted it because who was he to argue with the people who had given birth to him?
Lily shrugged. "Yeah, but thats a cool name. My sister got the cool name too. Petunia. I got the common flower name instead."
"Lilies are nice flowers though," Remus said quietly, thinking of his mothers garden and how there where lilies everywhere, planted in painted pots and on every windowsill spot available. "It's a nice name. Better than Remus."
Lily shook her head and dribbled the basketball on the concrete with the pads of her fingers. "No. Being named after a flower is weird. Everyone treats you like you are the flower. Like I'm easy to hurt."
"Oh."
"Well I'm not." Lily said, sticking out her chest, a glint in those bright green eyes. Remus had no doubt that she was tougher than she looked. Had thicker skin than she let on. "I broke both my wrists and didn't even cry that hard. Tuney bruised her hand and she cried like a baby for days."
"I don't think you're a flower," Remus blurted out. Lily fastened a smile at him, and it was a bright as her eyes.
"Really?"
Remus nodded quickly. "I mean flowers can't play basketball, right?"
This makes Lily double over in laughter and the ball rolls away from her touch and stops at Remus's feet. He picks it up and bounces it on the concrete. He nearly dropped it again when it bounced right up into his hands.
"No," Lily laughed, wiping a funny tear from her eye. "I guess they can't."
She watches him bounce the basketball back up into his hands and a little frown creases her features. He's never played basketball before. He had seen pictures and little snippets on television, but for the most part everyone played football.
"Do they have basketball in England?" She asks curiously.
Remus nods. "Yeah, but everyone really just plays football. But I'm not from England," He says. Normally he'd get upset, the accusation he was from England or London like everyone assumed. Did Americans not know the difference between a Welsh accent and an English one? But Lily didn't seem like all of the other people he had met.
"Oh. Where are you from then?"
"Wales."
"Thats cool. Is it nice there?"
She seems so sincere and kind that Remus assumes she really does know nothing about who he is. And she isn't staring at his scarred face but right at his eyes. It's a nice feeling.
"Yeah," He admits. "I miss it a lot."
Lily nods. "I think I would miss it here if I left." She looked around and then back at him. "I mean its pretty boring in the summer, everyone leaves for their super fancy vacations to the beach, but in the school year we have so much fun."
"You do?"
She nodded fast. "Oh yeah! i mean now that we're in middle school we get to play real sports and have more than one teacher too. I'm so excited to learn everything. Tuney says its hard, but I just think she's not very smart."
"Do they have football here?" Remus asks. Maybe if his hip was alright by the end of the year he would get to play in the springtime. It felt funny all the time now.
Lily nodded. "Well of course they do, silly! We have a big football team!"
"Oh. I think you lot call it soccer here." Remus said, quickly realizing that the term football meant something different here. He didn't even know how American football worked. Didn't they have this thing called a quakingback or something like that?
Lily shook her head. "There's no middle school team, but in high school there is. Not as big as the football team though."
Remus felt a little disappointed by this. Didn't Americans know that football was the best sport out there? Remus had been to only one official match in his life, with his father and it had been the best day he's ever lived.
"Oh," He swallowed. "That's alright."
"But," Lily said with excitement brimming in her eyes. "We can play basketball! Holly lets me use your hoop."
Remus felt his insides shrink into themselves.
"I don-don't know how to play." He admitted quietly. He didn't even know the rules of the game.
Lily just shrugged. "That's okay! I can teach you!"
She was so carefree and honest and warm, that Remus didn't even want to decline or come up with an excuse. So he bounced the balls towards her and let her babble on about the rules and how to hold the ball and everything, but all he could think inside his head was;
I think I just made a friend.
I think I just made a friend.
I think I just made a friend.