Some Things Are Personal
For the Livejournal 50scenes challenge. A collection of scenes featuring Lieutenant Helga Sinclair.
The Widow
The Jenkins' household in the wake of Lieutenant Christopher Jenkins death.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters who appear in this collection of fiction. They are property of Disney and the creative team behind Atlantis: The Lost Empire.
Lilies, irises, chrysanthemums, roses, statice, and Queen Anne's lace covered almost every flat surface of the modest home. Every blossom was unblemished whit. Every man and woman who wandered the halls wore unmarred black. No one raised their voice about a murmur, and few dared to allow even their footsteps disrupt the quiet. Sometimes brief laughter intruded when old friends shared stories together, but it was always quickly banished.
Only a select few begrudged the young widow at the center of the mourning her solitude. If men from her husband's unit came bearing condolences or flowers, she received them. She rarely stayed in their company long, instead passing the duty of hostess to her mother, sister-in-law, or her mother. Then she would return back into her husband's study to be alone with her grief. Every so often, after her departure, one or two, usually women, would chide her.
"Very ungracious," one had said, unaware of how her voice carried.
"She's proud." The widow had heard her husband's sister say, her voice gentle. "She doesn't like to let others see her cry."
More often than not, though, the mourners expressed their pity. "How difficult it all must be," they said. She had waited for six months while the police scurried about frantically to find Second Lieutenant Christopher Jenkins or to identify the body they found on a city street as his. The corpse was male, but the face had been so disfigured that the identity could not be determined. The damage was so severe that the young Mrs. Jenkins had never been allowed to try and identify the dead man. Finally, when the soldier did not reappear and witnesses placed him near the area where the man was found, the police ruled him dead.
The killer was never found.
No one intruded on the widow's sanctuary within the study. No one saw her pull back the heavy curtains to allow the sun in. No one saw her close her eyes and bask in the warmth. No one saw the single purple columbine and the note that read "LTR." No one saw the downturned wedding photograph of the lieutenant and his wife.
No one saw Helga's smile.