STORIES AND SECRETS
It was a warm summer afternoon, the type that made hours pass pleasantly in a slow, almost rhythmic fog. Katy sat in her favorite place in the house, by Helen's bedside, as close to her cousin as she could possibly get.
Normally the two of them could talk for hours on end, but today Katy seemed distant, as if she was thinking over something puzzling. They sat quietly for a few moments before Cousin Helen reached towards her end table. "Shall we read something today?"
"No-o …" Katy said slowly.
Cousin Helen laughed a little, patting her cheek. "Is something the matter, my pet? You look lost in thought."
Katy spoke slowly. "Yesterday Papa told me a bit … about Alex." She looked up beseechingly. "I hope you don't mind."
"I don't," Cousin Helen said, smiling. "It is good that you know. Had he not told you, I would have shared the story with you myself."
"Papa … he said that you ended the engagement because you didn't want Alex to spend his life caring for you," Katy told her.
"Yes, that is true," Cousin Helen said quietly. That sat in silence for a few moments, and then she laughed. "Why, Katy, you look so grave and thoughtful!"
"I just don't know how you could have done it, Cousin Helen!" Katy burst out. "To have given up all that! And I don't see why you couldn't have married him, anyway." Katy stopped suddenly, looking mortified. "No – I'm sorry, I shouldn't be prying."
Cousin Helen laughed lightly. "It's perfectly alright. I'm happy to talk about it with you." Then she sighed, and gave Katy an appraising look. "Well, Katy, I have a mind to tell you something else, because I think you are old enough to hear it." Katy nodded.
When Helen spoke again, she seemed to choose her words carefully. "Yes … that was one reason that I broke the engagement. But there was another reason, equally important: I felt my illness made me unfit to be a wife."
Katy looked at her in puzzlement. "But Cousin Helen … you could have a housekeeper do the cooking and cleaning, couldn't you?"
Cousin Helen laughed again. "Yes. But you misunderstand me, Katy – what I mean to say is that I feared my poor health would make me incapable of … bearing children."
Katy felt a flush spread over her cheeks. This was a subject she had never discussed with anyone, and the little she knew about it was from the snippets she had heard whispered by giggling older classmates. But Cousin Helen looked at her frankly, without a trace of unease. How different she was from most grown-ups! Surely Aunt Izzie would never dream of mentioning such a matter.
Katy was dying with curiosity, but couldn't seem to form the words for a question. There was a long pause, then Cousin Helen laughed easily, patting Katy's hand. "I think I've embarrassed you, poor darling. I only told you because I try to answer your questions frankly. But never mind, my pet, let's talk about something else."
"No!" Katy said quickly. "I'm glad you told me." She paused to collect her thoughts, as Helen's quick brown eyes watched her face. "Do you miss not having children?" Katy finally asked, very shyly.
"Yes," Cousin Helen said quietly, turning serious again. "I do. But it makes me doubly glad for the company of children like Elsie and little Helen, and for my friendship with bigger girls like you, Katy."
Katy squeezed her hand. "And … do you still love Alex?"
Cousin Helen sighed. "No, not now. I loved him quite passionately before my accident. Even after I ended the engagement, I continued to love him for awhile. But now it has been many years since, and I am happy to say that I truly think of him as a brother."
"That must have been terribly difficult," said Katy wonderingly.
"Yes, it was. But I'll tell you something, Katy. Those first few months after my accident, I was so ill and in so much pain that they were sure I would die. Those were the darkest days of my life, and I am glad I do not remember too much of them. Finally, praise God, I recovered enough to think clearly, and to realize that Alex had been watching over me for weeks and weeks."
"When I awoke from my stupor, I saw a changed man by my bedside. He was a young man grown old overnight." Helen swallowed. "He took my hand, and told me that we were to get married anyway, that he would never leave me. But it was the horrible, hollow look in his eyes that made up my mind. They were the eyes of a man whose spirit had been broken by the things he had seen."
"At that moment, I realized with crystal clarity, that the best gift you can give to someone you truly love is the opportunity to be happy. I realized that if I married him, I would bind him irrevocably to my limited life. If he were married to me, he would be forever bound to those dark days which even then, I instinctively knew would return."
" That's why I feel only joy when I see him walking about with his wife and their beautiful little girl. If I can't have that life, then I thank God that such a good and kind man can have it instead." Cousin Helen wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled at Katy, who sat a little dumbstruck.
"I see why Papa said he wanted me to take pattern after you," she said finally.
Cousin Helen laughed. "Your papa is a kind man, to speak so well of me." She stroked Katy's cheek. "You are going to turn into a fine young woman, darling. I can see it already."
Katy kissed her cousin, and began gathering her things about the room to leave, as she could see the sun setting through the window, its golden light illuminating her cousin's suddenly tired face.
"Before you leave, Katy, I have one more thing I should mention," said Cousin Helen.
Katy knelt by her bedside. "What is it?"
Helen looked pale, but managed a mischievous smile. "Make sure that you don't let on to Aunt Izzie that I talked with you about babies."
"Don't worry," Katy assured her, giggling. "I'll keep it secret for ever and ever."
And Katy did.
Author's note: Please review, I love your comments! :)
Also, I'll note that I don't necessarily agree with Helen's views about illness/disability and marriage – I'm just expanding on her rationale from the book. Her opinions are a bit shocking today, but hey, those were the Victorian times!