Thread: The War Zone [Assficianado & YellowSmoke]

The interior of the boathouse brought Lara sepia-filtered memories which were not her own they were her father's memories, fabricated in her own imagination of how he must have played here when he was young. She saw her grandmother too, her image drawn from pictures she had seen of the woman from before Lara was born, and she imagined times both happy and mischievous, her father and grandmother smiling and laughing, or the former running from the latter as she sought to punish him for some misgiving. That was a superimposition of her own real memories of times when she had misbehaved, and she wondered if there had been a playfulness in her grandmother's pursuit of Ray, a benevolence even beneath impending punishment. All of the memories - real and imagined - were shattered when Lara turned and saw her father crying she was wrenched back to reality with a confusion whose undercurrents she understood, but the suddenness of it all caught her unawares. He had seemed so happy this morning, as though finally - or at least temporarily - free of the crushing grief which weighed upon their family. Her eyes widened but then he was moving to her, clutching her desperately to his chest and she was frozen in his arms. He needed her comfort, she knew, but it had always been his job to comfort her, his task to ensure that she was safe from pain and suffering she had no experience in dealing with the roles reversed. But he needed her now . Gingerly, she curled her arms around his waist and held him, feeling every bit like the horse with the reins in his hooves. Yes, she replied, feeling tears well in her own eyes. How could she be strong if he was not? He was the man of her house, the rock in her ocean of torment, but now she must hold him steadfast against the tides of grief. Yes, of course. His change of mood had come so unexpectedly that she too felt the same waves assaulting her person, the same sudden crash of sequential losses pressing upon innocent shoulders, but she felt too the tears of her father upon her shoulder and somehow that steeled her as much as it weakened her. They couldn't both collapse - one must hold up the other - and if she must be the strong one now, away from the eyes of others even Tom... perhaps especially Tom, then she must be strong. Whatever her father needed, she was here for him. If not she, then who else could support him in this time of need? She clutched him tighter to her body, her breasts pressing against the lower portion of his chest where his ribs met his stomach and she felt his warmth against her own, and the gentle shudder which choked his voice. Her tears welled again and she fought them back - be strong Lara. He needs you. She was emotional, bare to the grievous reality which had become their lives his life and hers, and even Tom's, though he slept soundly in his room. She felt the pain which besieged the collective life of their family, and she was vulnerable. I love you, dad... The words came spontaneously and without thought she heard them pass her lips more than she willed them to, and she meant them. Nestling her head upon his firm shoulder, she said them again I love you.