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“Ah… There we go.”
Elle throws the wet sheet over the clothesline, ignoring the slight splatter of cold water against her face. She uses her hands to make sure it isn’t bunched up anywhere, that it won’t dry unevenly, and moves to the next piece to hang.
Elle likes doing laundry. Back at the convent, it had been one of those tasks that always seemed peaceful to her. Getting to be outside in the fresh air and sunshine, the smell of clean laundry filling the air as you carefully hang each bit of clothing to dry. Some of the other Sisters had complained about the monotony of the chore, or how you had to always make sure to keep an eye on the weather to make sure you took the laundry in on time, but Elle had never minded any of that, ignoring when the other nuns would throw around the idea of buying themselves a dryer— ‘just for the cold months’, they would say, even though Elle is sure that they would have slipped into the habit of using it even when the weather outside was perfectly nice.
“I don’t know why you would pass up the chance to have that perfect ray of sunshine all to yourself.”
The memory of those days brings a smile to her face. She can’t help but wonder how all the Sisters are doing.
Maybe I’ll write them a letter, she thinks. I wonder if we could have a phone here…? I never thought to ask Kafka about it.
She lets her thoughts meander as she hangs all the laundry. A light breeze blows past her, tousling her hair.
It still feels strange to feel the wind in her hair without her habit covering it. Sometimes she forgets, and panics over the fact that it’s missing, and Kafka will laugh at her and remind her that she renounced her vows.
With the laundry hanging, some held on by clothes pegs and others left to lightly sway in the breeze to cool them, Elle turns to look out across the vast expanse of open plains she can see from her home. The world seems to stretch on forever, with only sparse grasses and the occasional tree to interrupt her view.
She looks up, shielding her eyes partly with her hand, trying to track the sun’s journey across the sky. Her days here are by no means hurried. Sometimes it feels like the days completely escape her because of that. It’s surprising to her, just how normal all of it feels.
Not as surprising as the pair of arms that wrap around her midsection from behind, though.
“Eep!” The arms seem to squeeze a squeak out of her, and a deep chuckle follows.
“Sorry, did I scare you?” Sunbeam loosens his arms from around her, allowing Elle to turn around, wrapping her arms around him in return.
“A little,” she admits, sheepishly. “I didn’t hear you get home.”
“You were busy,” Sunbeam replies as he loosens his grip on her, allowing her to turn around so she can reach up and cup his face in her hands.
“Welcome home, dear.”
Sunbeam leans in to give her a kiss. Elle stands on the tips of her toes to make it easier for him, with the difference in their heights.
She should have known when she had chosen to go with him rather than returning to the monastery that she was leaving her old life behind. That there was so much more to her decision than simply a desire to do good in the world beyond the enclosed walls of her convent.
She thinks, as Kafka pulls away from their kiss to instead kiss her on the forehead, that a part of her did know. She simply hadn’t been ready to accept it.
As she stands there wrapped in his arms, far warmer than the sun shining down on the two of them, she knows that it was the right choice no matter what complicated feelings it might have caused. After all, this feels like a perfect moment that nothing could ruin.
…Until Elle remembers how late in the day it is.
“Oyoyoyo!” She jumps away from Sunbeam, scrambling to grab the laundry, then immediately dropping it and heading for the door, then going back for the laundry, completely paralysed by choice.
“E-Elle? What’s wrong?” Sunbeam’s eyes are the size of dinner plates as he watches Elle scramble, unable to make up her mind.
“I haven’t finished the laundry yet! And I haven’t even thought about starting dinner! I completely lost track of time…!”
Kafka laughs, making her face turn red with embarrassment, as he steps forward to grab her hands and force her to stop running around like a chicken with her head cut off.
“It’s fine,” he assures her. “We can have something simple. I’ll finish hanging up the laundry if you want to go get started.”
“B-but—” She wants to protest, Sunbeam having just returned from a long day at work at the factory, but he brings her hands up to his mouth so he can kiss the back of her knuckles.
“Just leave it to me,” he insists, and Elle feels herself melting at his gentle smile and those brilliant green eyes, until all she can do is nod and scamper inside with another string of apologies.
As she’s standing in front of the sink, washing her hands, even though there’s a part of her that still feels tied up in knots over the mix up, there’s another part of her that can’t help but think—
Even though she’s walked a very different path in life than she thought she would, she’s still managed to find her perfect ray of sunshine.