Mama said it would be “an adventure.”

Lizette knew this meant no argument. No whining. Mama needed “Mama Time”. 

“Just the weekend,” Mama said.

Lizette knew this meant at least a week. Till Mama grew tired of her new Beau. Or the Beau grew tired of Mama.

Did Uncle Ronnie know Mama’s language? Will he care?

It was dark when they arrived. Light flickered in the cabin’s window.

Mama let her out. Told her to knock. Drove away as the door opened.

Lizette shuddered. Entered. Gasped. Sighed.

The chandelier tree. The moose. Her uncle’s smile.

She could stay a while.

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Alicia Jamtaas