Post by Lydia Thomas on Nov 8, 2015 11:21:50 GMT -8
Saturday, 17 March 2015
8:34 p.m.
London
It was St. Paddy's Day, and Lydia was determined to make it a good day. She remembered the parties her mom used to have. She and the other kids had been allowed to stay up late and watch movies together in her room while her mother and her friends drank and did whatever else out in the main part of the house. Eventually, she'd become a teenager, and she and her friends would have their own drinking party in her room but had to sneak out when they were seventeen and her mom had realized what had happened the year before. It had always been a day she'd looked forward to no matter what for the simple fact it was sure to bring much merriment.
Lydia would be legal in America now, but it didn't matter, did it? She was here, and she was going to go to a pub. After being cooped up researching and reading old paper clippings while Alan was at work, she had decided this. She'd gone and charmed a shirt (and a spot of her brown hair) green and had paired her shirt with a black skirt that hit just above her knees. Add some tights and ankle boots with a chain that held a gold four-leaf clover charm, and her ensemble was complete. Cute and decidedly holiday-ish, but definitely not what some of the Irish crowd here at this pub she'd found in London were going for.
A note stating:
Alan --
Gone to O'Malley's for a bit o' fun. You should join.
--Lydia
had been left on Alan's kitchen table next to the dinner of corn beef and cabbage she'd made for him. On his pillow, she'd left another:
C'mon, Al, ol' boy!
You deserve a break!
If he decided not to, then she would be disappointed, but it wasn't like he had to. She'd just figured it'd be good for him to get out. He was much too serious far too often.
Regardless, she hoped to find the celebration here in London to be similar enough to what she did back home for her liking.
For now, she was enjoying her beer while listening to people talk about the parade and festival she'd missed earlier in the day. She'd have to remember that for next year, if she was successful in her mission.
8:34 p.m.
London
It was St. Paddy's Day, and Lydia was determined to make it a good day. She remembered the parties her mom used to have. She and the other kids had been allowed to stay up late and watch movies together in her room while her mother and her friends drank and did whatever else out in the main part of the house. Eventually, she'd become a teenager, and she and her friends would have their own drinking party in her room but had to sneak out when they were seventeen and her mom had realized what had happened the year before. It had always been a day she'd looked forward to no matter what for the simple fact it was sure to bring much merriment.
Lydia would be legal in America now, but it didn't matter, did it? She was here, and she was going to go to a pub. After being cooped up researching and reading old paper clippings while Alan was at work, she had decided this. She'd gone and charmed a shirt (and a spot of her brown hair) green and had paired her shirt with a black skirt that hit just above her knees. Add some tights and ankle boots with a chain that held a gold four-leaf clover charm, and her ensemble was complete. Cute and decidedly holiday-ish, but definitely not what some of the Irish crowd here at this pub she'd found in London were going for.
A note stating:
Alan --
Gone to O'Malley's for a bit o' fun. You should join.
--Lydia
had been left on Alan's kitchen table next to the dinner of corn beef and cabbage she'd made for him. On his pillow, she'd left another:
C'mon, Al, ol' boy!
You deserve a break!
If he decided not to, then she would be disappointed, but it wasn't like he had to. She'd just figured it'd be good for him to get out. He was much too serious far too often.
Regardless, she hoped to find the celebration here in London to be similar enough to what she did back home for her liking.
For now, she was enjoying her beer while listening to people talk about the parade and festival she'd missed earlier in the day. She'd have to remember that for next year, if she was successful in her mission.