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Summer
Spring had just blended into summer in Virginia on the day America traveled to the docks. It was the first of many hot days to come, but the skies were clear, the breeze was strong, and the ocean waves were calm in the harbor - a perfect day on all accounts except for one. England was leaving.
England was leaving and America was upset .
So upset that she’d wrapped her arms tightly around England’s thigh and clung to her as tightly as she could. So upset that she couldn’t stop the large tears from welling in her eyes and rolling down her cheeks, even if she tried. So upset that hours later, after England and her nanny and several other sailors and dock men had peeled her off of England and held her back as the other nation left, America still remained in place. Hoping beyond hope that England’s ship would reappear on the horizon.
It didn’t.
Instead, America stayed until her tears had dried tracks on her face and the warm summer afternoon had turned into a crisp night. She stayed until she realized that England wasn’t coming back, and when that sad, gut-wrenching reality set in, the young colony sulked her way back home, ignored the scolding words of the woman England had hired to stand in for her, and shut herself in her room, curling up in the blankets and snuggling with the crocheted bunny England had made for her. Maybe when she woke up, England will have come back.
She didn’t, though. She never did. And she wouldn’t for a long time.
Fall
Life continued on without England, just as life always did, and soon enough summer was morphing into fall. The air chilled ever so slightly and the leaves on the trees began to slowly change from their life-filled greens to vibrant reds, browns, and oranges.
America had snuck away from her nanny and her tutors to play in the leaves with the other children in town. They enjoyed piling the leaves into high stacks, then jumping or running through them to make them scatter everywhere and America found herself enjoying the spectacle as well. It was fun, and oddly satisfying, to watch the pile of leaves explode into the air, only to watch them settle back on the ground.
Their fun stopped abruptly when one of the little girls in their group heard her name being called.
“Elizabeth!” It was a young woman, probably her mother, that was calling out, her voice tinged with worry. A worry that was quickly replaced with exasperation when she spotted their group. America couldn’t exactly say she blamed the poor woman. They were all flushed and dirty from playing. “Elizabeth.”
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” The woman approached them, kneeled down in front of Elizabeth, and looked her over. “Are you alright?”
Elizabeth mumbled a weak “yes, Mama”, and America looked away sheepishly before the twisty feeling in her chest became too overwhelming. When she got home, she’d most likely get a scolding from her nanny and no dinner.
“Good, good,” Elizabeth’s mother turned to the rest of them with a kind smile. “The rest of you best get home, it’s getting late.”
The young woman’s eyes stopped on America though, as her people's eyes always seemed to do, and her smile turned a bit sad. “You as well. Your parents will worry about you.”
“I don’t have any to worry,” America told her. She shouldn’t have felt sad saying that, because she’d never had any parents, but America felt warm tears prick at her eyes anyway. “But that’s alright. I’ll be okay.”
America said that part with confidence. Because she knew, in the end, she would be.
Winter
Fall faded quickly in Virginia, and soon enough the burning colors of fall gave way to the cool tones of winter. On Christmas Day, America woke to biting, bitterly cold air, huge snowflakes steadily falling outside her window to coat the ground in pristine sheets of white, and an empty house.
America had tried her best to decorate for Christmas. She’d hung laurel wreaths on the doors, lined the halls with strings of pine cones, and had even decorated a large evergreen with candles and ornaments and strings of popcorn. It should’ve felt festive and warm and bright, but instead the attempt made the house feel more empty. Hollow.
There weren’t even any presents underneath the tree. Given, there were a great many people who didn’t, or couldn’t afford to, exchange gifts at all. Yet, America’s thoughts drifted to England, far across the Atlantic. Her absence burned more now that she was alone on a day like this, but America pushed it aside, just like she always did.
England was busy. England was dealing with far more important things. England didn’t have time to deal with someone like her.
And that was okay. That was fine.
America lit a warm fire in the fireplace and curled up next to it, as close as she dared, to fight off the cold shivering through her body. Maybe next year, she could spend Christmas with England. Maybe next year, she wouldn’t be alone.
Spring
America was glad when the frost of winter finally melted away into spring. The dreary winter skies had cleared up, only blemished by occasional spring showers, and the plants that had died in the colder months were slowly blooming back to their beautiful, lively colors.
As soon as the mornings became warm enough to be bearable, America spent her time at the docks, wandering amongst the merchant stands that sold the new wares being unloaded from the ships behind them. Even local farmers would come to sell their ripened crops to the constant flow of sailors and workers and passengers that passed through the port.
It had been nearly a year since America had stood on these docks and said goodbye to England, since she’d sat and watched the horizon until the sky had gone dark, desperate to see the familiar silhouette of England's ship sailing back to her shores.
America still found herself watching that horizon, and she still felt the squeeze in her chest each time she found it empty.
England wouldn’t return, especially not so soon since she’d left, and America tried to convince herself that it was okay. She certainly wasn’t going anywhere, not as long as her land remained and her people breathed, so she could wait and anticipate and grow.
She would move forward, with the flow of life, and be there to welcome England whenever she decided to return.