1
Days Go By
Only a few azalea bushes were in bloom as the end of May approached, and the long avenue leading up to Twelve Oaks had lost of some of its splendor when the deep magenta blossoms finally wilted. The same held true for the azaleas in the rest of the County, but Ashley Wilkes had always prided himself on his azaleas blooming more robustly and living longer than those of his neighbors. He spent a good deal of time in the gardens these days, transforming what had been a barren patch of ruin into what promised to one day to be a spectacular horticultural showplace.
As he came running down the path which led toward the barns, Ashley paused briefly to examine one of the lingering azaleas, reminding himself to pluck a few of the blossoms for Beau to ride over to Scarlett at Tara. He then remembered his errand, and continued to jog lightly down the cobblestone pathway.
"Beau?" he called as he reached the doorway of the freshly whitewashed building. "Beau, are you in there?"
"Yes, Pa." His son's voice called from the back of the barn. He was grooming his black stallion. "Yes, Pa? What can I do for you?"
Ashley was breathless by the time he reached his son, who smiled at him broadly.
"What's the rush, Pa? Sit down and get your breath."
As Ashley sat down on a large bale of hay opposite his son, he took out a white handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped the sweat off of his face.
"Well, Beau. It's that Miss Kathleen Fontaine. She rode over about half an hour or so ago. I told her you were out, but she insisted that she needed to speak with you. Well, you were nowhere to be found, of course, so she said that she'd drop by later to see if you were back at the house." Ashley sighed. "I'm sorry, son, but you how, well, persistent that young lady can be."
Beau laughed. "That's okay, Pa. And yes, I know Kathleen can be persistent when she wants something bad enough. She's got a lot of her Pa in her." Beau gave his stallion a final pat and closed the stall door behind him. "Pa, you'd better tell Dilcey to put out an extra plate for supper. Kathleen usually manages to call right at suppertime."
Ashley nodded understandingly, then turned towards the big house, leaving Beau alone with his thoughts. Kathleen was very beautiful, and at sixteen, very available. And Beau had known her all of her life. As the daughter of his father's good friend Alex Fontaine, it would stand to reason that the two could conceivably find happiness with one another. Her family owned Mimosa, about five miles away from Twelve Oaks. While Mimosa was nowhere as large or as splendid as either Twelve Oaks or Tara, it was a good-sized piece of property, and with Alex's brother Tony in Texas and his stepson Little Joe off in the army, Alex depended on Beau's help in running things more than ever.
Naturally, Alex hoped that Beau would eventually marry his only daughter and take on his property as well. The only problem with that scenario was simple: Beau did not love Kathleen. It was true that he enjoyed her company, and he was happy to serve as her escort to parties and functions that they were both expected to attend; but despite his best efforts to feel otherwise, he could not force himself to love the girl. Kathleen, on the other hand, was very much in love with Beau, and he feared that her long-nursed girlish fantasy was ripening into a very womanly obsession. She had many beaux in the County, but had found no one to suit her as well as Beau.
Beau yawned as he walked into the big house, and took off his broad Panama as he entered the kitchen, where Dilcey was washing the pans. A bronze-skinned half-Indian, she had been his wet-nurse and had devotedly followed his family through thick and thin. Beau gave Dilcey a quick peck on the cheek as he walked through the kitchen.
"Did Pa happen to tell you that we're having company for dinner?"
Dilcey sighed. "Yes suh, Mist' Beau. That fool chile, Miss Kathleen. Honey, I know it ain't none of my business, but I've been with you thirty years, and I feel as if I've been as close as yo' Ma, God rest her soul, but I think you could do better than Miss Kathleen, that's the truth."
Beau smiled at Dilcey. "Dilcey, you know that you've been just like a mother to me, but don't worry yourself over Kathleen. She sees me as some sort of knight in shining armor. That and you know how close Pa is to Mr. Fontaine. Now, I'm going upstairs to say hello to Aunt India, then I'm going need some hot water for a bath. Would you yell up at me when she arrives, please ma'am?"
Dilcey watched as Beau walked up the grand staircase; she did worry about Beau and Kathleen, if only because she knew how deceitful women like that could be!
As Beau relaxed in the big tub, letting the hot water soak the stiffness out of his tired legs, he took a wet washrag and put it over his eyes. Sitting up with a start, he reached for the top of his head, where he had felt something tap. Jerking the rag away from his face, his eyes widened at the sight of Kathleen Fontaine leaning over him.
"Kathleen!" Beau said sharply. "What do you think you're doing? You know that Dilcey would wring my neck and yours if she found you up here. And your Daddy-well-he wouldn't hesitate to shoot me!"
Kathleen smiled mischievously down at Beau. "Not to worry, darling, I came up through the window."
"Turn around," Beau instructed. "And shut your eyes." He jumped out of the tub and grabbed his housecoat, while Kathleen watched with interest from her perch on the side of the tub.
"Why so modest, Beau? After all, I've watched you work with your horses with no shirt on before…"
"That's a little different than accosting a man in his own bath, Kathy," he said sternly.
Kathleen sauntered over to Beau and laid an elegant hand on his shoulder as he toweled dry his curly dark hair. "You could kiss me, then. To show me how much you've missed me."
Beau obliged by giving her a brotherly peck on the cheek, which caused her to purse her lips in a pretty pout.
He then turned her away from him and toward the door firmly and hastily retrieved the pair of trousers he'd doffed and put them on, then pulled a clean white shirt onto his sinewy body.
"What's all this about, Kathy?" he said. "Is everything well with your Pa?"
Kathleen followed Beau to the small mirror and watched with interest as he attempted to tame his unruly mop of hair.
"It is about my Pa, Beau. But I'd rather talk about it after dinner, if it's all the same to you. We can sit out on the porch and look at the stars and have a nice, long talk."
Beau appraised the girl-or was she a woman? Aristocratic Fontaine features coupled with a svelte physique were only a few of her charms. Her black hair was her crowning glory, that and her big brown eyes, which could produce tears at any opportune moment.
"Alright, honey, we'll talk after dinner. But you'd better climb out that window you came in and come in the proper way, lest you get us both in trouble!"
Dinner was exactly how Beau had predicted it would be. He knew that his father and Aunt India couldn't stand Kathleen, and neither could Dilcey, who was glowering as she brought out each course from the kitchen. After dinner, he and Kathleen retired to the veranda to take in the warm spring air.
"You'd best be getting home before dark, honey." Beau said. "C'mon, I'll call for the buggy."
"Oh, just a while longer," she said, languishing in the seat of the porch swing.
Beau knew that he was teetering on a fine line of proper decorum, one that his father had schooled him on since boyhood, but damn, a man could only put up so much resistance, especially when the female in question offered her charms so willingly.
"It's about my Pa," she said finally, her tone slightly more serious. "He's got to go to Atlanta for an operation next week. He could be out of commission for awhile." She sighed, "and I've got all I can handle with the Negroes being lazy and contrary and Mama constantly on my back about getting married." She sighed prettily and looked up into his eyes with her dark brown orbs. "You could help me, Beau. You know how much I love you. And I'd be the perfect wife for you."
"Look," Beau pondered his words carefully, "Kathleen. I care very deeply for your friendship, and that of your father and mother. But honey, I've spent the past ten years just making Twelve Oaks serviceable again. It's a full-time commitment, and frankly my dear, I don't have the time to devote to a wife. You understand that, don't you? I've put everything I am into this place; it's all I have. Now, I can find you a good man to come in while your folks are in Atlanta, and I'll come over myself and look over the books. But that's all I can do."
"But! Don't you want to marry me?"
Did the woman have cotton stuck in her ears?
Beau kissed her hand, chastely, like a brother would. "C'mon. Let me see you home."
After Kathleen had been safely deposited at Mimosa, Beau told his valet to drive on home without him, fancying the walk back home in solitude. As he passed the turn to Tara, he thought for a moment about calling on his Aunt Scarlett. The woman was the epitome of elegance and sophistication, yet she would sit out on the porch with him and discuss business figures and drink a glass or two of brandy. He felt sorry for Scarlett, mainly because she lived all alone at Tara, with the exception of her household staff.
Her sister and brother-in-law had taken their brood of children and relocated to Texas, where Mr. Benteen had kin and the promise of his own property which could be passed to his sons. Wade worked on Wall Street these days, at JP Morgan's bank, and reaped the rich rewards of a career in finance. He had gone off to Harvard and not set foot in Georgia since; Scarlett had had to go to either Philadelphia or New York to see him, and after he married Victoria True, daughter of a Pittsburgh steel tycoon, he hadn't wanted much to do with his mother. Ella, on the other hand, had chosen Europe. At twenty-eight, he knew that she was still unmarried, and supposedly very beautiful, for all that Scarlett called her a bluestocking.
He walked up the long avenue to the freshly painted white brick house, and smiled affectionately as he beheld her sitting on the porch. As he predicted, she had a glass of brandy in her hand.
"I've come calling, Aunt Scarlett. Best fetch a chaperone!" Beau teased.
"Fiddle-dee-dee! Come and sit down. You're out late tonight. What's the matter? Problems with a lady?"
Beau smiled at her as he took a seat on the top porch step. "No Aunt Scarlett, no woman problems to report. It's just that, well, I do find myself lonely, now and again."
"Don't we all?" she replied, her tone clipped.
"It's just that, I feel like something's missing in my life. You know, something! And I'm not sure what it is. It's just a feeling, you know?"
"I know," she said, her voice softening. "You know what I think? I think you need to find yourself a good woman. Yes, Beauregard Wilkes. That's exactly what you need."
Beau yawned. "Well, I guess I'll find one when you find yourself a good man, Aunt Scarlett. You can always marry my Pa. He needs someone to look after him."
"I look after him anyway!"
They both laughed at that; knowing full well that between their joined efforts, Ashley had attained some semblance of peace in his golden years, some bit of the glory of the old days restored for him.
"Well, goodnight, darling." Scarlett kissed his forehead. "This old woman needs to go to bed."
"Never old." Beau kissed her hand. "Never."
"Oh," she said suddenly, "I almost forgot. Ella's coming home tomorrow."
"Excellent!" he said sincerely, "will she be staying awhile? I do hope so. I worry about you out here all alone."
Scarlett shrugged. "No need. I've been alone so long, I wouldn't know what to do with company. But it'll be good to see her. I spent a fortune shipping her paintings across the sea for her; however, she's cleared over five thousand just selling her landscapes. Of course, she uses an assumed name so that buyers will be interested in her work, but still…"
Beau whistled appreciatively. "It'll be good to see her. Come down to Twelve Oaks tomorrow."
"Alright, we'll be there. But don't worry if we miss supper, you know how the railways are, what with the strike and all. She'll be coming from New York, you know; it would be nice if Wade could come too but…" her voice trailed off as she looked at Beau sadly. "Well, I've still got you, haven't I?"
"Yes ma'am." Beau smiled broadly. "You won't be getting rid of me anytime soon. We're neighbors, after all."
"Family," she said firmly. "Goodnight, Beau."
"Goodnight, Aunt Scarlett."
As he watched her reenter the house, his heart filled with sorrow. Gone was the belle of five counties his father recounted in his reminiscences of the old days. The mistress of Tara was a cold, empty shell of a woman. Perhaps Ella could bring some warmth back in her life. He truly hoped so.
Hands in his pockets, Beau set off for home, knowing that he had a big day ahead of him in the morning. After all, the place didn't run itself. As he walked, he ran a list in his head of the many things he had to do…
Author's Note – Everyone who is reading my other story, Life So Changed, don't worry, I'm still working diligently on it, but I had this idea and couldn't resist writing it any longer.
It feels a bit strange for me to be writing about older Scarlett when I've been writing young Scarlett, but we'll see how it goes…Please review and share your thoughts! =)