#angelalarsonfh

[lallyinthesims]

As winter passes, the Grunt homestead begins to feel less like a construction site and more like a place to put down roots. Lilith wakes before sunrise and pours herself a cup of coffee. Standing outside the front door, she watches the morning light creep across the property.

Fresh tracks weave where rabbits have crossed directly into their crude crate trap during the night. For so many years, Lilith had wondered whether she would ever belong anywhere, now she watches smoke curl from her chimney while her husband still sleeps, and she smiles into her coffee.

By the time Tank joins her, the two have already planned another day's work; there is always another improvement to make. Tank sets about building them a proper bed, once again setting a date that he’ll have it done by Christmas, carefully planing each board and fitting every joint as though he expects it to last a century.

Outside, Lilith checks the traps, and is met with several hares that have found their way into the traps overnight.

"Sorry, but we have to eat," she murmurs to them.

Around noon, Lilith slices fresh bread and prepares simple sandwiches filled with cold rabbit, sharp cheese, and a little mustard, gifted from her grandparents’ store. Tank wipes the sawdust from his hands before sitting down beside her.

Once lunch is finished, Tank pulls on his coat, explaining he has to fetch something in town, while Lilith explains she, too, has an errand in town.  Angela has invited her to meet at the tea house, and while she isn’t sure what to expect, Lilith hopes for the best. She bundles herself against the cold and starts down the snowy road, then spots General Buzz bent over his tools, working on the old wagon Tank has been insisting he should just sell. 

"Afternoon!" Lilith calls, andd Buzz straightens just enough to glance in her direction, nodding curtly. “Don’t work too hard.” 

"I'll stop when it's fixed." Lilith lifts a gloved hand in farewell and continues toward town, never imagining it will be the last time she sees her father-in-law alive.

The warmth inside Mama Hick's Tea Parlor is a welcome relief after the bitter cold outside, and the former Pleasant sisters embrace before settling into a cozy corner table, each with a steaming cup of tea between them. Finally, there is no family drama demanding their attention, instead they simply talk, which is new. 

Angela tells stories about newlywed life with Jason and Jodie, laughing as she admits married life has been everything she hoped for, except for one unexpected complication.

"I traded one little sister for another," she says with an exasperated sigh.

"I thought you two got along."

"We do...for about five minutes at a time." Lilith cackles into her teacup as for once Angela can complain about her housemate to the one person who understands exactly what it's like to grow up with an opinionated sister. Lilith counters with stories of Tank's endless building projects. Angela reaches across the table and squeezes her sister's hand, and for the first time possibly ever, the Pleasant sisters are not squabbling as girls; they are simply two married women, sharing tea while snow falls beyond the frosted windows.

[lallyinthesims]

The Wedding of Jason Larson and Angela Pleasant Church of Freedom Hollow, Winter 18xx

[lallyinthesims]

Christmas morning with the Larsons begins quietly. Angela, bundled in her coat, returns from a trip to the outhouse, while Jodie pours out the dirty water from washing up the breakfast dishes. For once, they are not arguing. Jodie glances sideways at her new sister-in-law.

"You seem happy."

"I am."

"Good." The answer surprises Angela enough that she laughs.

"What? No argument?"

"I promised Jason my Christmas gift to you would be pleasantries." This earns a laugh from both of them, and for the first time Angela realizes that, despite all their bickering, she has genuinely come to enjoy having Jodie around.

Later that morning comes the exchange of gifts, and Jason presents his to Angela with an almost boyish eagerness. In his arms is a beautiful length of green plaid fabric, pale in color and fine enough to make a lovely dress or winter skirt. Angela holds the cloth tightly against herself. 

"I remembered you stopping to look at something similar at your grandparents’."

"You remembered that?"

"I remember most things when they're about you." The answer earns him a kiss and leaves him looking rather pleased with himself for the rest of the morning.

Later, as Christmas dinner cooks, Jodie finally decides it is time to share news she has been keeping to herself. The announcement comes so casually that Jason nearly misses it.

"Komei proposed, by the way." Jason nearly chokes on a cup of coffee.

"When?"

"At the barn dance."

"And you never told me?"

"You were busy getting married,” Jodie replies simply, explaining she will likely be wed by spring.

By evening, Christmas has settled, the dishes have been washed, and the candles cast a soft glow across the room. Snow continues to fall and Jodie retires to her bedroom, leaving Angela and Jason alone beside the fireplace. Angela stands in her nightdress, enjoying the warmth of the hearth while Jason adds another log to the flames.

It is then that Angela suddenly pauses, looking up at Jason, her expression somewhere between confusion and realization.

"Jason…"

The answer arrives all at once, with a simple pop, and for a moment neither speaks. Then Jason lets out a delighted laugh.

"You're kidding." The next thing she knows, Jason has swept Angela into such an enthusiastic embrace that she nearly loses her footing. “A baby!” 

He crouches in front of her and places both hands against her stomach.

"Hello there," he says so earnestly that Angela bursts out laughing.

"There’s barely a bump yet."

"I know that," He says, but he keeps talking anyway.

Earlier that morning, Jason had given her the beautiful fabric, and she had considered it may have been the finest Christmas present she had ever received. 

Now, entirely by accident, she has given them both an even finer one.

[lallyinthesims]

One bitterly cold morning, Jason bundles himself in layers of fur and makes the walk toward the post office. Snow crunches beneath his boots, and by the time he arrives, the wind has turned his nose and cheeks a bright, painful red.

The little post office offers little warmth, and Jason immediately kneels beside the pot-bellied stove in the corner and sets about building a fire. He feeds it kindling first, then heavier logs, until the crackle of flames slowly chases the chill from the room.

Throughout the day, townsfolk drift in and out to collect letters, send correspondence, and linger near the stove a little longer than necessary. By late afternoon, Jason finally locks the door and starts the walk home through the snow-covered streets of town.

His route, unfortunately, takes him past the saloon.

Light spills from its windows onto the snow, and even from outside he can hear the muffled piano, laughter, and familiar warmth. He slows almost without thinking, boots crunching softly as he pauses for a moment in front of the building. The saloon promises heat, company, whiskey, and the easy comfort of old habits.

Back at the Larson house that afternoon, things are considerably less peaceful. Inside, Angela and Jodie are discovering that sharing a home is an adjustment, particularly for two women who both possess strong opinions about how a household ought to be run. The disagreement begins over something trivial and rapidly becomes about everything else instead.

By the time the bickering finally winds down, Angela stares at Jodie with growing disbelief before blurting, “I’ve somehow replaced one annoying sister with another.”

Jodie gasps dramatically. “I heard that.”

“It was meant to be heard.”

“You are impossible.”

“So I’ve been told.”

As the afternoon darkens, Angela begins preparing supper. The stew simmers on the stove, bread is sliced, candles are lit, and Jason still has not returned home. She tells herself not to worry, then tells herself not to be irritated, and succeeds only moderately at either.

By the time the winter sun has fully disappeared and darkness settles over Freedom Hollow, Angela finally sighs in defeat.

“Well,” she says, ladling stew into bowls, “he knows where home is.”

Jodie looks up from the table. “Giving up on him?”

“For tonight.”

The words have barely left her mouth when the front door opens and a rush of cold air sweeps into the house along with a swirl of snowflakes. Jason steps inside, cheeks once again reddened from the cold just as they were when he left that morning. Angela immediately notices something: there is no smell of whiskey and no trace of cigar smoke clinging to him, only cold winter air and melting snow.

“You’re late,” she says as she sets supper on the table.

“A little,” Jason replies as he stamps the snow from his boots. Angela studies him carefully.

“Sit down,” she says at last. “Before it gets cold.” He obeys immediately, which earns him a suspicious look from Jodie.

The candles flicker softly, and Jason reaches for a piece of bread just as Angela’s hand rests nearby. He gives her fingers a gentle squeeze, and she smiles despite herself. Across town, the saloon remains warm, lively, and full of familiar faces, but Jason wouldn't know; he never made it through the front door.

[lallyinthesims]

The wedding festivities carry on well into the evening, but eventually Angela Pleasant, now Angela Larson, returns to the house alongside her new husband, and the newly married couple finally find themselves with a moment alone. 

Jason offers Angela his hand.

"Mrs. Larson?" Angela laughs.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to hearing that."

"Then I'd best keep saying it." She takes his hand, and together they disappear upstairs.

The lamps downstairs burn low for a long while afterward, and the excitement of the day is difficult to ignore. Neither, it seems, is the novelty of finally sharing a room, and the pair exchange delighted grins usually reserved for newlyweds.

Afterward, they exchange a few whispered words and change into their bedclothes, before apparently deciding that married life suits them remarkably well.

Angela is first awake. Jason finds her in the washroom a short while later, both of them barely dressed, their hair not yet properly combed for the day. Angela laughs softly.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You are staring."

"I know." She rolls her eyes affectionately, and Jason steps closer and kisses her, the sort of kiss that comes when there is no audience. 

A short while later, the newlyweds sit together at the table while Angela serves thick slices of toasted bread spread with butter and preserves. It is not a grand breakfast, but neither seems to mind. They linger over the meal, exchanging smiles across the table, both quietly enjoying the simple novelty of their first morning as husband and wife.

Jason glances toward the window, where Freedom Hollow is slowly waking. For years, the saloon has been where he spent many of his evenings, but now that there is a woman under his own roof (that he isn't related to), sharing his bed, his table, and his future, he can’t help but hope maybe he won’t need it quite so often.