Mrs. Bernice Madden seemed to be in the grips of dementia, her mental state regressed to that of a child. Startled by Andrea, she looked both confused and uneasy, causing Lizetta to feel a pang of discomfort She took the elderly woman's hand and said to Andrea, "I'm sorry, it was thoughtless of me to give her something to eat without considering."
Andrea was about to retort when Jerome's stern voice interrupted her. "Andrea, you should have kept a closer eye on grandma. Since she found her way back safely, let's not dwell on it."
With that, Andrea nodded, tossing a strawberry shortcake into the trash can before turning back. "Thank you for looking after my grandma," she said to Lizetta, then turned to Jerome, "We should go, grandpa is anxiously waiting."
Jerome didn't move but introduced Lizetta to Andrea, "Andrea, my sister, and Lizetta, a friend of mine. About three months ago, Liz saved you at a bar, remember?"
Andrea's eyes widened in surprise, and after a moment, she smiled gratefully at Lizetta, "So it was you who helped me that night when I was drugged. I was out of it and didn't recognize you, thank you." That night, three months ago, Lizetta had unexpectedly saved a girl from a potentially dangerous situation at a bar, and after giving their statements at the police station, she had left. Lizetta had nearly forgotten the incident; the woman had worn heavy makeup and a body-hugging dress that evening. Now, Andrea stood before her, looking younger and more elegant than that night, causing Lizetta not to recognize her at first.
She nodded with a smile, "It's fate, Ms. Madden. You're welcome."
Andrea continued, "I wanted to thank you in person, but after my grandparents and parents learned about the incident in Zion City, they immediately brought me back to Tranquil Meadows. However, I did ask my brother to thank you for me."
Looking up at Jerome, she asked, "Bro, did you properly thank Ms. Gardenia for me?"
Before Jerome could respond, a familiar, deep voice cut in, "So, Mr. Madden, has your family been taking care of my wife all this time at Florence's request?"
Lizetta felt a shiver down her spine and turned to see Remington stepping closer, his presence commanding even amidst the crowded airport. His tailored dark grey suit highlighted his composed and striking demeanor. Despite seeing him just a week ago, he seemed different, almost breathtakingly so. Avoiding his gaze, Lizetta thought bitterly how the familiarity seemed misplaced now. And there they were, days away from making their union official, and he was boldly referring to her as his wife.
But Remington, unbothered by such thoughts, naturally wrapped an arm around Lizetta, drawing her close. His hand was warm against her through the fabric, his familiar scent enveloping her. Lizetta stiffened, glaring up at him, but he only continued, not meeting her gaze but softly patting her side, "Ah, my daughter knows her daddy's here, kicking me through her mom's belly. She's already so smart."
The encounter, woven through with everyday miscommunications and the complexities of relationships, resonated with a touch of humor and the warmth of familial bonds, albeit in unexpected forms.
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