‹ Prequel: Purple Hearts
Hope
The Party - 1
While sitting putting on her make up, Franky couldn't fail to glance at the photographs that she had on the dressing table.
She smiles at the photograph of Milton. Milton. The best dog in the world. He'd died when little Hope was about six years old, she'd loved him too. He died just after Rose, the dog they'd adopted from next door. She knew she'd never have another dog after him. No other dog would match up to him. They'd had so much fun together and he'd been there for a huge and important part of her life. She'd lost count of the amount of tears that had fallen on his fur.
Alongside Milton's photograph is a picture of herself with her mother and Tre at their wedding. All toothy white smiles, such happiness emanating from the picture.
She knew she was haunted by her mother still, she had visions of her on a regular basis, usually in the early hours of the morning. At first she'd thought she was just dreaming but she was awake, she knew she was and her mother was always standing at the bottom of her bed. She'd never told anyone about these visions, they'd lock her up thinking she was mad. Her mother never scared her, she just looked beautiful and peaceful, she'd never scare her, she just stood there and advised her to be happy and to move on with her life.
If only it was that simple.
But it could be.
She could hear her mother now saying those words.
"You can be happy Franky, its up to you."
Her mother's voice echoed in her mind as she slipped on the purple dress, her all time favourite colour. She feels good suddenly, stronger, looking forward to the day and what it would bring and what she'd learn later.
She'd learn who was the father of her daughter.
**
Everything was ready, the caterers had been, the food was prepared, everything was just how Hope would want it, glancing at her watch Franky's stomach leaps, everyone would be here soon including him.
The father.
Whoever he turned out to be.
"Mom," said a voice from the kitchen door causing Franky to turn. It was Hope, standing in front of her, stunningly beautiful in a black dress, her wild brown hair shining, her green eyes smudged with smoky grey eyeshadow that sparkled with excitement.
"Just look at you," said Franky.
"And look at you," Hope said and they laughed together then hugged each other tightly.
"Are you OK?" Franky said to her. Hope just nodded as the doorbell rang.
The party guests were arriving.
She smiles at the photograph of Milton. Milton. The best dog in the world. He'd died when little Hope was about six years old, she'd loved him too. He died just after Rose, the dog they'd adopted from next door. She knew she'd never have another dog after him. No other dog would match up to him. They'd had so much fun together and he'd been there for a huge and important part of her life. She'd lost count of the amount of tears that had fallen on his fur.
Alongside Milton's photograph is a picture of herself with her mother and Tre at their wedding. All toothy white smiles, such happiness emanating from the picture.
She knew she was haunted by her mother still, she had visions of her on a regular basis, usually in the early hours of the morning. At first she'd thought she was just dreaming but she was awake, she knew she was and her mother was always standing at the bottom of her bed. She'd never told anyone about these visions, they'd lock her up thinking she was mad. Her mother never scared her, she just looked beautiful and peaceful, she'd never scare her, she just stood there and advised her to be happy and to move on with her life.
If only it was that simple.
But it could be.
She could hear her mother now saying those words.
"You can be happy Franky, its up to you."
Her mother's voice echoed in her mind as she slipped on the purple dress, her all time favourite colour. She feels good suddenly, stronger, looking forward to the day and what it would bring and what she'd learn later.
She'd learn who was the father of her daughter.
**
Everything was ready, the caterers had been, the food was prepared, everything was just how Hope would want it, glancing at her watch Franky's stomach leaps, everyone would be here soon including him.
The father.
Whoever he turned out to be.
"Mom," said a voice from the kitchen door causing Franky to turn. It was Hope, standing in front of her, stunningly beautiful in a black dress, her wild brown hair shining, her green eyes smudged with smoky grey eyeshadow that sparkled with excitement.
"Just look at you," said Franky.
"And look at you," Hope said and they laughed together then hugged each other tightly.
"Are you OK?" Franky said to her. Hope just nodded as the doorbell rang.
The party guests were arriving.