The Allied States of Emily
or, The Good, the Bad, the Shifty
Emily was not enjoying the celebrations of the first anniversary of Jericho's liberation.
The day had started well enough, with the romantic song and the delicious food being cooked for everyone. She had been most delighted when Jake had stopped for some pleasant small talk.
She had even been glad when he'd shown his sensitive side, beginning to tell her about his inner feelings that just couldn't be hidden behind a roguish charm and lopsided smile. She had hoped that maybe, this time, she would finally be able to help him deal with his issues surrounding his fathers, original and step, now that he was finally confiding in her.
Then the tides had changed as rapidly as they had earlier when she'd thought fate was finally favouring them. He became angry, aggressive. He shouted at her about colours as if it was her fault his brother and sisters-in-law seemed so determined to let Gray handle their children. She couldn't fathom why he was staring her down with such malice, but it made her a little bit peeved, after all she had done for him.
Then Stanley and Mimi were standing there, blocking her way and staring at her like she was an alien. If only she were so lucky. If she was an alien, Oliver and Beck, two of the last eligible men in town, would be worshiping her. She had a sudden vision of herself dressed in silk robes, lounging on a satin couch high up on a pedestal, eating grapes and being fanned by the former major and current crackpot. She smirked. Then she remembered she wasn't an alien, so it was rather rude of Stanley and Mimi to suggest it. After she asked them why they were looking, they seemed to remember their manners, for they continued walking and Emily's eyes narrowed as they took their seats, the whole time touching each other on the arm, on the face, holding each other's hands. Did they have to rub it in, that they'd gotten lucky, when there were people around who hadn't?
Emily couldn't think of anything luckier than the idea of finding someone to share her life with. She had some strange thoughts sometimes, when she was alone, and she preferred to avoid the silences as much as possible. She found it easier when there was someone else to focus on. That was all she asked for. It was so unfair, that some people got lucky more than once while others didn't get any luck.
She caught a glimpse of Eric, going by with a handful of cups of juice, and scowled. Speaking of someone getting too lucky. What did Eric Green have that she didn't have? He wasn't such a catch. She was sometimes left wondering how he even landed one life partner, let alone three. She was just about to tell him so when he caught her off guard with a friendly smile.
“Having a good one, Emily?” he asked.
She remembered then, how kind Eric Green could sometimes be, and though he didn't always show this side, she figured it was best to encourage it when it came out. “I certainly am. Yourself?”
“Can't complain,” he said with a smile. “And I'm glad we were lucky enough to have such a nice day. I hoped it wouldn't rain, but can't control the weather right?”
Emily imagined herself suddenly, perched atop the roof of town hall, pouring over a large menu listing conditions from cloudy with a chance of thunder to breezy with a clear blue sky. She could see herself picking, pointing with a large conductor's baton, and waving her arms theatrically as the skies delivered whatever she had picked. Such a good chance to give back to the community. She could order a gentle rain shower the day after the horticultural team planted the flowers in the town hall plots. She could choose a sweltering hot day for the Fourth of July picnic, and a fluffy white Christmas.
She shook her head quickly as she realized Eric was talking about the DD-issued musical interlude from before. “Just glad Gray didn't take it too bad,” he was saying.
There he had to go, bringing up his own issues when she was trying to share a pleasant moment. Those Greens were all the same, obsessed with themselves and their own family, oblivious to everyone who didn't share their last name or their penchant for all things verdigris. She imagined, with a sudden pleasure, using her weather conducting baton to send a black storm cloud hovering over Eric's head, following him throughout his day, shooting out lightning at random moments. “Forget Gray,” she muttered.
Eric was looking at her, open-mouthed. “Well,” he said hastily. “Better go make sure the kids are being good.”
Emily gave an understanding nod, watching Eric go, somewhat wistfully. Why had he retreated from their conversation so quickly? Was it something she said?
I was nearby, chatting with Hawkins and Darcy at the moment, assuring Darcy I did indeed think her new bob haircut was stunning, when I saw Emily stalk by, ignoring Jimmy's “What do you think of the marinade? Not bad, huh?”
I knew my friend and fellow ranger was having a difficult time of it, but I was a little wary to approach her. Truth be told, ever since our brief “romance” in seventh grade, I'd tried to keep a healthy professional distance from her. She was always a good kid, when we were growing up, except for when that other side of her personality reared its head. Even then, I usually didn't blame her – I always thought she was just a bit more sensitive than the rest of us. But I knew it would be a mistake for me to get involved. She needed someone stable, someone who'd give her the attention a lone wolf like me never could. So I knew, the reason Emily was particularly out of sorts at that barbecue, but I was sure it wasn't the right time for me to intervene.
Emily Sullivan was lonely, and despite her network of friends, her carefully honed sense of independence, and her excellent command of a firearm (when she was in a good mood), she had realized that what she wanted was someone to share these things with, in that close, intimate way we do when we find someone special.
This realization had hit her smack in the face the night after the great battle with New Bern. Following her kiss with Jake right before the battle, an onslaught of memories – all the good times with Jake, the romantic evenings and happy mornings, and all the moments in between – had come rushing back. The death of his father put a damper on their reunion, for they both were to grieve Johnston Green deeply, but Emily made the decision that she would be there for Jake. The next night, as they leaned against each other on the back stoop of the Green house, she listened to his feelings (“I just can't believe he's gone for good”) and she vowed to herself to make things right this time. This time, she would be there for him and do everything she could to help him through these difficult moments. She would listen to his feelings (for she knew his turbulent waters ran deep) and she would share her thoughts with him, using them to cheer him up and give him a bit of hope as they moved forward through these desperate times. It got off to a great start, and she spent a few days providing Jake with a shoulder to cry on, baking cakes, and making offers to help his surprised family members as they moved forward too.
Things went sour after a week. Up to the end of the week, it had been going so well. She had moved into his house, they had been spending days attending meetings at town hall, trying to put things back together and figure out what to make of the ASA soldiers who had arrived in town, and most nights had been comfortable as they collapsed, exhausted, on the couch to recount their day. Then one fateful night, their time on the couch had been looking to progress to something more, but was cut short with a fight. Jake had protested (“All I said was I want you so bad! What's wrong with that?”) but Emily had come to a bitter realization. They were as dysfunctional as they'd ever been, their moods and wants never seemed to match, and if she stayed, no matter how much she wanted to stay, they'd only get in each other's way. In the midst of one of their biggest arguments ever, Emily packed her bags and left the house.
As Emily trudged back towards her house in the Pines, she went through in her mind all the offensive things Jake had done during their relationship. He was obsessed with his own feelings, but rarely asked about hers. He complained about her baking, no matter how hard she worked on perfecting it. He was preoccupied with Eric and his mother, blowing her off to go check on them. Those Greens. Ever since she was a kid, they'd been her friends, yet they always seemed to let her down in the end. She passed town hall, and Eric, who had been chatting outside with one of the new ASA administrators, noticed her and asked why she was dragging her suitcase behind her. She launched into an explanation, pointing out his brother's faults, though she wondered why he hadn't noticed them himself yet.
He nodded slowly throughout her explanation, looking almost as though he was afraid to say anything. Perhaps he did realize his brother was a jerk, but was just too tactful to intervene in his relationships. Finally, he said carefully, “Well, if you felt it was time to end it, I'm glad you did. It'll be good for both of you.”
“Really?” she asked, suddenly almost near tears at the sign that someone else cared. He nodded, and launched into a hesitant personal confession about how he had always thought maybe they weren't quite right for each other, but figured they had to figure it out for themselves in the end. She watched, wondering why she'd discounted his kindness and consideration before. Perhaps she'd been wrong. Perhaps not all the Greens were bad. Perhaps she'd just chosen the wrong one.
The next day saw Emily seated in the office of the Green commune. April and Mary sat side by side, in chairs behind the desk. They had passed her a glass of Razz-Apple surprise when she arrived, and they were sipping drinks of their own, April pausing now and then to give the cradle at her feet a gentle rock.
“So what've you heard about the new currency? They've been really tight-lipped every time I've gone down there to talk to them,” Mary said.
April nodded, and added, “And have you heard if they're sending more troops, or is this what we can expect?”
Emily wasn't interested in sharing information from her privileged position as one of the rangers (not that she was getting much in that department), but rather, relayed the same story she had given to Eric the previous night. They seemed dismayed at first, but they listened sympathetically, expressing their condolences for the end of the main romantic relationship in Emily's life.
Emily waved a hand dismissively. “It's okay. I've figured out a way I can still share my life with someone.”
“Did you ever think maybe you don't need someone, to have a good life?” asked April.
“Yeah, why do we have to focus on everyone getting matched up in some conventional relationship anyway?” asked Mary. “You know, you could be just as fulfilled, on your own, sharing your life with your friends and all the other people who appreciate you in this town. Any of us could.”
“Our conversations don't have to all revolve around men, or romance, or settling down, do they?” asked April.
“Like you're one to talk,” said Emily with a snort.
April raised her eyebrows. “True, we did both go the falling-in-love route.”
“But then again, we're not exactly a model of the conventional, are we?” asked Mary.
“Exactly,” said Emily. “That's why I'm here.”
The sister-wives paused for a moment, sharing a glance. “And what is it you want?” asked April, giving her a friendly smile that didn't quite meet her eyes.
“Well,” said Emily with a nervous smile. “I can't help but think you have a great set-up here. You both get the guy, at the end of every other day, but you also get to hold onto your independence the rest of the time.”
“Right,” said Mary, nodding but looking on expectantly.
“And well, I know I've been hung up on Jake for so long, but I've started to realize maybe you were the ones with the right idea. You backed the right horse, so to speak.” She glanced from the brunette to the redhead, hoping they'd catch on, though she wasn't sure they were the most able readers of subtlety.
It seemed that they did though, because something shifted in their demeanours. They shared another worried glance. “Emily, are you trying to say...?” asked April.
“I figured you could set us up, see if we click. Maybe if we do, I can join you all out here. I'd love to have a family and I'd pull my weight. I'm a great baker and I'll teach Ruby everything I know. I think you could really use another pair of hands, so you'd be winning too.” She let out a breath. She had tried to get her reasoning out there as quickly as possible.
Their faces were not as hopeful and excited as she had anticipated. “Em, what happened with us was kind of a unique scenario,” said Mary. “Eric and I fell in love. And before that, so did April and Eric. April didn't...recruit me to bake and babysit.”
“Well, how do you know we won't fall in love too?” asked Emily. She would prove herself, if they gave her a chance. “He's obviously interested in different types.” She sent a meaningful glance between them.
“It's not just that. We're happy the way we are. We're a great fit. That kind of thing, you can't plan for. It just kinda happens,” said April. “It's tricky when you adjust to someone new and we got lucky, it worked for us.”
Emily paused. She didn't want to sound rude, but what made them so much better than her? “You two get along. Why don't you think you'd get along with me? I'm as good as you.”
“You are as good as us, and we like having you for a friend,” said Mary with a careful smile. “It's just not the right fit.”
Emily nodded. Their words were negative, but she had an inexplicable feeling that things would work out, if she only kept trying. “Remember all the good times we had when we were kids, Mary?” she asked. “Remember that year we both played on the field hockey team?”
“Vividly,” said Mary, wincing as she remembered the spectacular black eye she'd gained one practice when she'd made a joke about the Jericho Marauders being unstoppable even in bad weather.
“And April, remember all the fun times you and I had when we were sisters-in-law?” said Emily. “Think of how much more fun it would be to be sister-wives!”
“We were never actually sisters-in-law,” said April, suddenly flashing back to her bachelorette party, where Emily had become upset about losing the “bad girl bingo” party game and ended up smushing the naughty-shaped cake on the floor. “But that doesn't matter. We're friends. What are labels?”
“A whole lot,” said Emily. “I'll take care of Eric. I'll take care of you. You're so kind and generous, you'll see reason, I'm sure.”
Ruby whimpered from her cradle on the floor, and April reached down to pick her up. Mary's expression seemed careful. “Look, Emily. It's going to be okay. I know things probably seem pretty bad right now, but you'll rise above this. You're one tough chick all on your own. You don't even need us.”
Emily swallowed. It was a bitter taste. She'd thought it had been bad being rejected by Jake so many times, but being rejected by Eric Green before he even knew she was interested? Rejected by women who'd been far less popular than her in high school, who couldn't even catch one whole man on their own and had to share? Her hands became fists and her face became a grimace.
My dear readers, I just wish to make a note here before the story continues. As this was a rather raw, painful moment in Emily Sullivan's life, she found herself using rather unsavoury language as she confronted the Green women over their rejection. While it is my intention to record details as accurately as possible to history, I will also keep in mind my responsibility to provide my contemporary world with a tome that is accessible to readers of all ages. In this effort, I may have slightly altered Emily's choice of words in the following exchange in the hopes of preserving the spirit of the dialogue without limiting the reach of this text to the more worldly of readers.
“I sure don't need a slatternly strumpet like you,” said Emily, practically spitting her words at Mary. “I wouldn't want to share a family with a fallacious floozy, even if you paid me.”
Mary was silent, though she narrowed her eyes. April couldn't stay quiet, though. “Excuse me?” she asked.
“But that's probably what you had to do, isn't it?” suggested Emily, rounding on the redhead. “How else did you convince Eric to stay with his hiemal harridan of a wife when he already found somewhere else to get his kicks?”
Mary was on her feet, her eyes flashing dangerously. “Careful what you say next,” she warned.
“Don't tell me what to do, Jezebel,” dismissed Emily. She kept her gaze on April, who had stowed Ruby in her cradle and pushed it a safe distance back, her expression of fury growing. “You disgust me more than her. What kind of a poor sucker moves in with her husband and his trollop?” She was practically shaking with rage, and the two pairs of infuriated eyes, boring into her from across the desk didn't deter her from continuing. “You should've been embarrassed, letting him hold onto you after he'd been with someone else. You're just pathetic.”
“Get out,” said Mary, stepping around the desk and gripping Emily firmly by the arm. April looked like she might spring to her aid, but Mary sent her a quick nod.
Emily scoffed. “What are you going to do? You're just a-”
“I know, some fancy word for skank,” said Mary humourlessly. “I don't care what you call me, you don't get to talk to her like that.” She began walking towards the door, pulling Emily with her. Emily couldn't believe how unfair it all was, how much she hated Eric's wives at this moment in time, and how strong the bartender's grip actually was.
“Come on April, that's all you're going to say?” asked Emily, glancing over her shoulder. “Not going to keep defending your half-wit husband and foolish family? Forget you all!”
They had reached the door and Emily tried to brace herself in the doorway. Mary leaned towards her and spoke in a low, warning tone. “Go, cool down, and think good and hard before you come back,” she said.
Emily was silent, staring at her friends. They looked so angry, and the baby had started to cry again. “Sorry things couldn't work out,” she said. She carefully walked away, wondering how her request to join the family could make them so angry, vaguely considering that perhaps Greens, whether by birth or marriage, tended to be hotheaded.
“Keep walking!” said Mary.
Eric passed a bewildered-looking Emily in the hallway. He looked towards his wives, both standing in the office doorway, looks of tension etched in their features. He had a strange feeling he'd arrived just after some kind of event, like when you awake just after a thunderstorm has passed. “What was that about?” he asked.
April and Mary glanced at each other. “Emily had a proposition,” said Mary.
“Wanted to ask if we'd consider adding another partner to our marriage,” said April.
A look of panic stole over Eric's face. “What did you tell her?”
April and Mary gave him the same withering look. “No, of course,” said Mary.
Relief washed over Eric's features. “Good. I can't imagine us needing anyone else at all. You two,” he looked back and forth between them, “you're all anyone could ever ask for.”
They both smiled, their rage dissipating now, but as he continued into the office to search for a spare ledger, they glanced at each other. A look passed between them as they considered Eric's words.
Emily, meanwhile, was despairing that her attempt at joining the Greens through a union with their second son had gone so horribly awry that now both his current wives were angry with her and she would be forced to think about her actions before returning. It had never been so much work, being with Jake. The commune was obviously just too much of a high-stress environment.
The next week, she met up with Jake outside town hall before her meeting with the J&R reps who were going to help her start up the school again. He smirked and said something about never seeing his sisters-in-law so good and worked up as they'd been when they recounted an odd visit she'd made them, and a few moments later, Emily was embracing him like they'd never been parted.
Emily's next attempt at attaching herself to Jake didn't go as she hoped, and neither did the next after that. After their spectacular breakup following the overthrow of the ASA in Jericho and Jake's mother's marriage to Gray, she worried she might actually never have someone to share her thoughts with.
“Why are you so worried about it anyway?” asked Heather one day, passing a soother to TJ as she sanded a side of the high chair she was assembling. “Having a man's not all it's cracked up to be. Sometimes, I think they're more trouble than they're worth.”
Emily glanced around at the collection of car seats and exersaucers, all containing happily babbling little Lisinskis. “Because when I'm on my own, I'm stuck thinking about things like whether or not the Richmonds' pigs could fly if I sewed them some wings.”
“They couldn't,” said Heather, concentrating on the screwdriver she was employing.
“See, I need someone to give me the tough answers,” said Emily. “Life is not the same without them.”
“You could make answers for yourself,” said Heather, her eyes on the blueprints she had drawn.
“I guess,” said Emily. She watched Libby, who was watching Heather's progress with eyes as wide as saucers. She wished she had someone, anyone, who would watch her movements with such keen interest. “You never have to be alone,” she pointed out.
“No,” said Heather, balancing an armful of dowels as she righted a set of stackable plastic rings that had fallen from Georgie's high chair. “But I don't have anyone giving me answers either. I figure things out for myself. And you know, it's not so bad.”
Emily grimaced as Betsy let out a particularly loud squawk. “Can't you get them to shut up? We're talking here.” She turned and glared at Abby, who had tossed a wooden block in her direction. “Got something to say to me, brat?”
Emily was asked not to return to Heather's workshop. She sat in her empty house in the Pines, pondering Heather's suggestion she take a good hard look at herself and wondering how her relationships, both romantic and with her girlfriends, seemed to have gone so wrong.
This was what she pondered again, the day of the first anniversary of Jericho's revolution. Everyone around her seemed to be able to sustain some kind of relationship, whether they were angst-ridden sheriffs with stepfather issues, completely opposite sister-wives, bumbling farmers and acerbic IRS agents or over-zealous cops with desperate housebound wives. These people blundered through their romances and family lives every day, unaware of these faults of theirs, yet she couldn't find someone to have simple conversations with.
“What's wrong with me, Bill?” she asked, coming up to me as the light began to wane. I sipped at my beer, hoping this wasn't going to lead to another awkward conversation like the one we'd had the month before. “I know you said you couldn't marry me, and I get that you're a lone wolf. But what about everyone else?”
“I don't know, Emily,” I said carefully. “I don't know if any of us does.”
“I asked everyone to marry me,” she said. “Every single guy I know, and even one married. Well, would have asked him, if his other wives didn't get in the way. There's just too many of them, you know? Too much competition.”
I gave a careful nod.
“I just don't know if my dreams will ever come true,” she said with a sigh, taking a seat and leaning her head in her hands.
“Pie?” asked Jimmy, arriving at our table with two pieces in front of him. “I know you love cherry.” I couldn't help but smile. “Thanks, buddy,” I said. “But I already had some.”
“Oh, okay,” said Jimmy with an affable smile. He looked from me to Emily. “How about you, Emily? Can I interest you in some cherry pie?”
“Sure, thanks,” she said with a glum expression. Jimmy pushed the piece of pie towards her and took a seat opposite us, quickly getting started with his own piece. He swallowed his first mouthful, and looked over at Emily. “Aren't you going to eat yours?” he asked, a kind smile on his features. “It's really good.”
A small smile formed on Emily's lips. “Okay,” she said quietly. She raised a forkful, looking over at him hesitantly. He gave her an encouraging smile.
She chewed thoughtfully. “It's really sweet,” she said. Jimmy nodded. “You're really sweet too,” she added.
He blushed. “I try,” he said. “Did you get a chance to check out the display they made in town hall yet?”
She shook her head.
“That's too bad,” he said. “There's a nice picture of you.”
Emily nearly choked on her pie. “I bet it's a crappy picture. I can find embarrassing displays on my own, you know.”
Jimmy was taken aback. I, on the other hand, had been watching this dialogue with curiosity, turning something over in my head that I had been wondering about for some time. I decided to try something. “Hey, Emily – I'm sure it's a good picture of you. Don't think any others exist.”
Her expression softened. “Thanks, Bill.”
Jimmy nodded earnestly, seemingly glad her bad mood had dissipated so quickly. I wondered for a moment if I should go through with it, but I opened my mouth again. “Of course, the picture of Gray – pretty bad.”
Her scowl was instant. “Hard to get a nice one of him. You'd probably get so much glare.”
I stifled a chuckle. Jimmy, on the other hand, was as bewildered as ever, but he tried to save the situation. “I think they made sure to pick good ones of everyone,” he said, placatingly.
Emily turned back to him. “I hope so. I want everyone to be happy. We're all in this together, right?”
Jimmy nodded. “That's how we get through everything the way we do, right? The more, the merrier.”
Emily chuckled softly. She passed him a napkin. “You have a bit of cherry on your chin.” She giggled as Jimmy wore a somewhat embarrassed look.
I stood to get myself a refill, watching as Emily asked “So Jimmy – what do you think it would be like if someone could control the weather, with a conductor's baton?”
“I think it'd be pretty awesome,” said Jimmy. “You could make sure it snowed for Christmas!”
I chuckled to myself. The thing I had long suspected seemed to be true. It wasn't the people around Emily, that sent her behaviour into such opposite swings of beautiful and beastly. It wasn't even some internal mechanism that none of us would ever be able to predict. It was something simple – two little words.
I considered whether I should tell anyone. That didn't seem fair. It was her business, as much as Jake's secret teddy bear in a cowboy hat, Heather's diary detailing a wild three months of living in the end of times, and the commune Greens' fridge schedule, were all their own private matters. I could try to discuss it with Emily herself, but what good would it do, when the words themselves would bring out the two different personalities? Who knew if the personalities were even aware of each other? Maybe she would continue hanging out with Jimmy. He'd be a good friend for her to have – as the most positive person I know, I couldn't think of anyone more likely to use the word “good” on a regular basis.
I was pleased to see that they were still sitting together when I came back with my beer refill. Glad too that they were still smiling. But even I hadn't anticipated what was coming.
“I'm so glad you agree!” Emily exclaimed, leaning across the table to give him a quick kiss. She turned to me. “Oh, Bill, so glad you're back! We have the best news – we're going to be married!”
“What?” I asked, looking over at Jimmy, who looked to be in just as much shock as I was.
“Uh...I didn't know that's what you meant,” he stammered. “I thought I was agreeing to-”
“Oh, this is the most wonderful thing ever!” said Emily. “I'm going to go tell Gray he has to officiate at another wedding!”
“Whose wedding?” asked Allison Hawkins, who had been passing by with a plate of chocolate chip cookies.
“Mine!” said Emily, an elated grin stretched across her face.
“Oooh who are you marrying?” asked Allison, momentarily tearing her eyes away from me to give Emily her undivided attention.
“Jimmy!” said Emily, gesturing at her intended before waltzing off.
As Allison smiled sweetly and offered me a cookie, Jimmy stood, bewilderment all over his face. “But – I'm already married,” he protested.
“I know the feeling,” said Eric, who had been passing by with three wine glasses full of orange juice. His sympathetic grimace disappeared as someone cleared their throat from behind him. He turned. His three wives were seated side by side at a nearby table. They did not look amused. “Of course, I couldn't be happier,” he said quickly. “Here you go, Sweetheart,” he passed April one of juices. “Honey,” he nodded at Mary, who smiled back at him. “And here's yours, Buttercup.” He handed the last to Trish. He looked back over at Jimmy. “Once you get over the shock, you'll love it.”
“Eric, I think the girls would love to go for a walk,” said April. She was holding Violet in her lap. Eric nodded, reaching for the toddler in the purple dress, scooping her up and depositing her in the middle of a little red wagon. “Come to Daddy, Ruby,” he said, picking up Ruby from where she had been standing, holding onto to Trish's knee. He put her into the wagon next, and finally reached for his youngest, who had been dozing in Mary's arms. Once he had three little girls safely seated in the wagon, their dresses making a pattern of purple between red, he said “Let's go for our walk, girls.” The little girls giggled as their father raised the handle of the wagon and began to pull it.
Their mothers smiled, waving as they left. “Adorable, aren't they?” asked Trish. Her sister-wives nodded.
“I wonder if Heather would mind building us a bigger wagon,” said April with a thoughtful look. Mary gave her a knowing smile. Trish raised her eyebrows.
I escaped quickly as they raised their orange juice in a toast. I walked through the crowd instead. The Hawkinses were eating cookies together, all wearing relaxed expressions, even Hawkins himself. Gray and Gail were offering Emily congratulations while a bemused Jake looked on. Heather was showing her babies how to play a clapping game, an advanced sort of Patty Cake, and they waved as their colourful friends rode by in their little wagon. At the edge of the crowd, the DD was sipping wine, calculating smirks on their faces. I grinned. It was a nice sight, to see that a year after so many bad things had happened, we were making the most of the good.