Moving In
Ronan had known that when he would get home from work today, it was going to bad – it wasn’t. It was worse.
The first tip off had been Maili sulking on the doorstep; normal state, abnormal location.
“I take it she’s not settling in very well?” Ronan inquired mildly as he walked over.
Maili gave him a withering look, eyes bleary and mouth twisted in distaste. “If you think she’s willing going to settle in with us on the drop of a dime, your brain is more rotted than I thought,” she retorted, the familiar insult fitting well into the situation.
Simply giving a raised eyebrow to the insult, he put his hand on the doorknob, waiting for Maili to move. The 8 year old disregarded him until he gave a small cough, at which point she finally scooted over, grumbling. “Go ahead, but don’t blame me for letting you go in there.”
Entering and shutting the door behind him quietly, Ronan looked around and surveyed the damage. Most things were miraculously intact, but signs of carnage were still evident. Fragments of dinner ware were in a blizzard along the wall, the ceramic trail showing Maili’s escape route from the area. Other things from the kitchen cabinets had been pulled or swept onto the floor, glasses chipped and shattered, but he noticed that a good portion of plates and bowls were still missing from the area. He had a bad feeling about where they were.
Alabaster shards crunched under his feet as he made his down the hall, contemplating the situation. Kris hadn’t even known Ronan had existed until recently, and the conversation since they had met had been the bare minimum. In hindsight, he probably should have waited longer to apply for guardianship, but she had needed help, and fast; he knew that if child protection services had put her with a normal family, she would have crashed and burned in short order. At that moment, he realized that that was the cause of this current meltdown – she didn’t know that they were any different from a normal family. Arriving in front of her door, Ronan knew that it was time to rectify this mistake.
Opening the doorway, he saw Kris’s head whip around, red hair in a tangled mess, face around her green eyes red and puffy from crying.
“Get out!” she screamed, grabbing a bowl from the stack of pilfered dinnerware as she scrambled off the bed, which was at the moment the only feature besides a temporary dresser in the white room – he had been waiting to renovate it according to her desires. The clothes she wore were equally drab, meager patchwork covering she had grabbed during her short time of homelessness over the past few months.
When he didn’t move, she threw the bowl near his head, it shattering spectacularly on the wall. “I MEAN IT!” she warned, screaming once again, fists clenched in front of her.
Ronan walked into the room. “Kris, please, can we talk for a momen–”
She didn’t let him finish. Enraged that he hadn’t listened, she grabbed a small square dish and chucked it right at him. Ronan didn’t budge, and the corner of the dish struck him squarely on the forehead. A trickle of blood began flow from the resulting gash. The sight of this blood, and the fact that he hadn’t dodged made Kris gape in shock, color rapidly draining from her face.
“Was that really needed?” Ronan asked, massaging his forehead and grimacing at the pain. Giving a sigh, he continued, “This seems not to be the best time, but I do have something to say – loosing your skin is not the end of everything.”
At this Kris stiffened, but she made herself relax. “‘Loosing my skin’? That doesn’t make sense,” she said, her voice queerly deadpan, “I have it right here don’t I?” She poked her arm for emphasis.
Ronan gave her a meaningful look. “You know what I mean.” At this point, Ronan reached into one of the giant pockets on his double button long coat. “I was hoping to give this to you under better circumstances, but I guess now will have to suffice.” He tossed over what he had taken out, Kris catching it mutely. “It’s a knitted green beret. I found it at the seaside market and thought it would be a decent start to a new wardrobe.” Kris looked up from her examination of the hat, slightly startled by this statement, but quickly went back, not wanting to look too interested.
“Well, I think I shall leave you be for the moment,” Ronan said, beginning to walk out of the room.
“Wait!” Kris exclaimed, reaching out, arm withdrawing jerkily when he turned around. She hesitated, but a raised eyebrow encouraged her to continue. “What you said earlier.... was that.... could that possibly have been....” she took a deep breath, trying to compose herself “....is that statement from personal experience?” Her face indicated that she despised asking him anything, but her curiosity was too great.
Ronan gave a short nod. “Yes. It is.” With that he walked out of the room, quietly closing the door behind him.
A few weeks later
“Do we reeeally have to do this?” Maili moaned, squirming in her seat on the couch next to Ronan. “Yes, we do,” he said, giving her hair a ruffle as she continued to grumble, arms crossed. The house hold had recovered the previous carnage nicely, except for some missing dishes, and the renovation had begun on Kris’s room – the new dark blue paint on her bedroom walls was quite nice. Today though, they were here to see another sign of progress.
“I’m coming out!” Kris yelled, and then she walked around the corner into the living room. She was dressed in items from a new wardrobe – black shoes with white trim and laces, dark blue skinny jeans with a studded belt, and a short sleeved v-neck shirt with black cami underneath. Around her neck was an iridescent shell pendant, red hair was neatly cropped just a couple inches above her shoulders, and green eyes were sharpened by black eyeliner. Setting on the back of her head was simple hat – a knitted green beret.
Kris’s cheeks were flushed from embarrassment at doing this, hands stuffed into pockets with only some bracelets showing, but she looked over to the two of them hopefully. “Do I look okay...?”
“Not bad,” Maili said, “At least you don’t like a bilge rat anymore. And I mean that as a compliment!” she said hastily as Kris gave her a glare.
“You look wonderful, Kris,” Ronan said solemnly, “I see the hat is working out okay?”
Kris rolled her eyes. “I wore it because it matched the outfit. But.... I guess I should.... say thank you,” she said, looking over sheepishly.
Ronan nodded, and with that, he couldn’t help but give a smile.
