Mable's Marvellous Sweetie Shop 4 (End)

Part 1 here, part 2 here, part 3 here.

The park was dark. Rea’s phone held a dozen texts from both her parents, starting out annoyed and now progressed to anxious.

Still she stood in the gazebo, the last victory sweet clutched tight in its paper wrapping.

She didn’t want it to be over.

Her ringtone split the silence. Mum had gotten worried enough to actually call. Next step would be her contacting the police.

“H-hi mum.” Rea gulped air, struggling to find an explanation, and offered “Sorry, I fell asleep in the gazebo.”

“Rea!” Mum’s voice was mingled exasperation and relief. “You silly goose! Thank goodness nobody went through your pockets.”

“I know, I know…” Rea stared down at the paper cone crumbled in her hand. “I’ll head right back. Sorry.”

“I’ll reheat your dinner. And make you some camomile tea! You must be frozen.”

A fond smile curved Rea’s lips. “I am. Thanks, mum. See you soon.”

Alright. Time’s up. She had to face the real world.

But her way home took her past that row of shops. And the corner shop let you take cash out if you bought something. She could pop in, get a mundane candy bar, take out a tenner…

The thought quickened her steps.

Past the vet, the charity shop, the shoe repair shop, the hairdresser, the corner-

Wait.

Rea retraced the last ten steps.

Corner store. Hairdresser. Repair shop. Charity shop. Vet.

She looked back and forth across the row of buildings she’d known her whole life.

Then she looked down at the paper twist she was still clutching, with its last magic sweetie. And she pocketed it.

Tears of disappointment welled in her eyes. But maybe it was for the best. She’d already lost a whole afternoon and could hardly bear going back to normal.

Dragging feet turned towards home. Towards a normal dinner, slightly rubbery from the microwave, and fussing parents, and a cup of camomile tea served piping hot.

It didn’t compare to the glorious flavour of the Victories. Like how real strawberries never had the flavour burst of strawberry sweeties. But… real strawberries didn’t have that chemical aftertaste. You could just eat them and move on.

Rea tilted her face up to the street lights and took a determined breath.

Get home. Reassure mum and dad. Eat dinner. Maybe message her friends. Then…

Figure out how to grow real victories. And how to make them last.

[I’m pleased with this story, but I did struggle with how to end it in a tidy and timely fashion. This ending feels a bit of a let down, which I suppose echoes Rea’s feeling. I will rework this series into a short story if I get a better idea for how to wrap it up. If you have ideas please do suggest them!]