Disclaimer: I'm not Libba Bray. End of story.
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The Definition of Happiness
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Lillian was terrified her first day of school. The ride there consisted solely of her mother lecturing her about how to be a lady, the right way to eat, and that, under no circumstances, could she do anything that might potentially shame the family. When they arrived at Spence, the outcome of her day looked even bleaker. There were gargoyles littering the roof (she thought they looked much too real to be only stone) that were utterly menacing when you paired them with a dark forest and pouring rain and lightning. Hoping the inside was cheerier then the outside, she and her mother waited outside for a minute.
After the housekeeper opened the door, she breathed a sigh of relief. The parlor looked much better than the outside (although the housekeeper looked like one of those gargoyles come to life), and a bright fire was lit, giving warmth to the room. Her mother bid Lillian good-bye with a close-mouthed smile and a peck on the cheek (but she didn't miss the way her eyes teared up as she turned to walk away), and then she was gone.
The housekeeper returned to the parlor and announced that Ms. Spence was waiting for her. Lillian had to practically run to the headmistress's office to keep up with the housekeeper, and she was positive that she looked like a total and utter mess. The headmistress apparently thought the same, as she frowned when she took in the state of her hair and clothing.
"I'm glad to see you this evening, Miss Smith. I hope you had a nice journey here?"
"Yes, thank you."
The rest of the conversation was mostly a blur. Introductions were made and Ms. Spence told Lillian what her expectations were.
The headmistress finally led her up to her room where she announced that she would be sharing with Melanie James, another girl her age. After bidding her good night, Ms. Spence left her to her new room. Lillian lay down on the bed, which was surprisingly comfortable. She was only able to relax for a moment, however, because her room mate chose that time to come into the room. Lillian got up and strode over to the girl, who looked rather homely, besides the fact that she was wearing the latest and most expensive jewelry and accessories, obviously to show off her status.
"You must be the new girl," her room mate said with a look of disdain.
"Lillian Smith," she said.
Her room mate decides not to reply, but to go over to the mirror to look at herself instead. With barely a backwards glance, she said, "I'm Melanie James." And that was the end of the conversation.
When Lillian went to bed that night, the last thing she did was inwardly curse her mother for sending her to this school, and that she would have been much better off at St. Victoria's, even if it was farther away.
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Christmas was approaching at a great speed, and the Trenton family was hosting a ball that everyone who was anyone had to go to. Lillian was wearing her brand new gown which she thought looked absolutely perfect on her. It was made of a silky green material that made her eyes stand out. (This was it, she thought. She was going to find the man of her dreams tonight, wearing this dress that was made just for her.)
After being at the ball for about a half an hour, Lillian snuck over to her friends while her mother's back was turned. They greeted her as if they hadn't seen her in a year instead of a week, and her best friend Sahirah Foster suddenly exclaimed that she had a rip in her dress while giving Lillian a wink. After finally detaching themselves from their friends, they walked to the cloakroom.
"Hasn't this ball just been marvelous? I've danced with Robert twice! Do you think he'll ask me again, you know, to give a sign of his intentions?" Sahirah asked with a huge glow on her face.
"That's great, Sarah! He might, who knows…" Lillian said with a false smile. She didn't have the heart to tell her that she knew for a fact Robert was to be betrothed to Elizabeth Mayfield.
Lillian and Sahirah gave each other the scoop on all the other tidbits of gossip they had heard the past week and eventually left the cloakroom to go back to their friends. The first thing they noticed when they got back was that their friends were staring at something on the other side of the ballroom.
"What is it?" Lillian asked.
"It's John Nightwing, isn't he so incredibly gorgeous?" they all seemed to say at once, in various degrees of awe. Looking at the man they were gaping at, she understood what they were talking about. He was gorgeous, with his elegant features and silky dark hair.
Not knowing exactly what made her do it, she proclaimed to her friends, "This is the man I'm going to marry." They all turned to her with amused expressions on their faces.
"Lillian, that's utterly ridiculous! We all know he's practically betrothed to Trisha Bentley," Caroline Danvers said.
"We'll see about that," Lillian said, and without another word, she grabbed Sahirah's arm and dragged her close by where he was. She accidentally-on-purpose dropped her dance card at his feet and gave him her most flirtatious smile. She turned back towards her friends and felt a slight tap on her shoulder.
"Excuse me, may I have this dance, Miss…?"
She turned back toward him and, with her most demure look, said, "Lillian Smith. It would be my pleasure, Mr.…?"
"John Nightwing." And then he kissed her hand like a true gentlemen.
Needless to say, they danced three times in a row, with her friends staring at her with looks of astonishment, and by the time the adults intervened, everyone in the ballroom knew who would be the next to marry.
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"Darling, can't you wait one year? You only met him a few days ago and you want to marry him in two weeks? You are still a young, foolish girl, and you are certainly not ready to be a wife and mother!"
Lillian decided that she absolutely hated her mother. She always talked about how Lillian needed a husband quickly so she wouldn't be some sort of spinster, and now she wanted her to wait a year? Was her mother touched in the head?
"But Mother! Would you rather I became some boring old maid with a thousand and one cats or a teacher at some boarding school? What if no one else wants me? How am I to find a husband then?"
"Lillian, I am not telling you not to marry Mr. Nightwing; I am telling you not to rush this marriage! You should be engaged for a decent amount of time, and two weeks is not!"
"So that's what this is about? Being decent? I should have known. All you care about is that I don't shame the family!"
"Lillian, please, stop being so dramatic! You are acting ridiculous."
"I don't care what you say, Mother. John and I are getting married in two weeks, whether you like it or not." And with one last look of utmost contempt at her mother, she turned and stomped up the stairs.
As Lillian turned the corner to her bedroom, the last thing she heard was her mother saying that she had warned her and that it wouldn't be her fault when the marriage turned sour.
(Because that boy was very fickle, she heard, like Romeo from that Shakespeare play. He seemed to find a new "love" every other week, and if they would just postpone the wedding, then he could break the engagement and save her daughter from heartbreak. Because even though she most definitely cared about the status of her family, Lillian was her main concern, even if her daughter was too ignorant to realize it.)
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Lillian's wedding day had gone perfectly. Her dress was gorgeous; the cake tasted delicious; the decorations looked very nice; and most important of all- the way he looked at her had taken her breath away. It was as if she was the only person in the room. No one had ever looked at her that way before. Ever. It was the happiest day of her life. Not even her mother, who was still angry with her about the speediness of her marriage, could spoil this day.
Because that was the last thing she thought about as she fell asleep in her husband's arms later that night—or early in the morning. Lillian was going to prove her mother wrong. She and John's marriage would not turn sour and they would live happily together for the rest of their lives.
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The day of their 6th year anniversary had gone horribly wrong. When she mentioned it to John, it was obvious that he had forgotten. (But that wasn't too bad, it was normal for people to forget thing like that. Right?) Then he mentioned that Dr. Willis was coming to visit. She had acted as if she had no idea why he would come to see them, but she knew the answer. Lillian had had yet another miscarriage a few months ago. It had been her fifth since they had gotten married, and she knew it was only a matter of time before John made an appointment with a doctor.
John was confident that the doctor would be able to fix the problem, and Lillian couldn't help but hope that he would. Unfortunately, the doctor's news was anything but good. He told them that she could not carry a child and there was nothing he could do. All Lillian could do was stare at the floor, not wanting to see the pity in the doctor's face or the devastation and anger in John's. (Because she knew he would be angry. Lately, that seemed to be the only emotion he had.)
He thanked the doctor for coming to see them, and he abruptly left the room. Lillian followed him, not knowing what else to do. He seemed to notice she was behind him after a few seconds because he turned to face her.
"What do you want?!" he yelled at her.
"John, can we please talk about this? I know you're upset; I am, too, but–"
"Lillian, I don't want to talk. Go for a walk or something. Just leave me alone." And all she could do was to stare at him as he walked up the stairs and out of sight.
That night, after a good cry and a hot cup of tea, Lillian went up to their room and knocked on the door.
"John?" she called. There was no answer. She opened the door and looked around, only to find a note on the bed.
I've gone out.
That was it. No saying where he was or when he'd be back. Lillian's heart sank. What if he didn't come back? No, that was ridiculous. Of course he would come back. He always did.
But he didn't return that night, or the next. He had been gone 3 days when she decided to swallow her pride and talk to her mother. She came immediately after receiving Lillian's note. Instead of saying 'I told you so' or giving her a lecture on something, she held her and listened as Lillian told her the whole story.
After a while of this, her mother got up and exclaimed, "We are going to the hospital."
"What? Why?" Lillian said, confused.
"I'll tell you when we get there." Deciding that her mother knew what she was doing, she followed her out to the carriage.
When they got to the hospital, Lillian's mother went to the front desk and asked about identifying a body that had been found a few days before.
"Oh, you mean the man that got run over by a carriage?"
"That's the one."
The receptionist pointed them in the right direction and they set off again.
"Mother, what are you doing? Why are we identifying a dead body?"
"Just play along, dear. Trust me on this."
They finally found where they needed to be, and Lillian's mother went up to one of the doctors.
"Excuse me, doctor, my daughter and I are here to identify a body- a man run over by a carriage," said her mother.
"Ah, yes, we were hoping someone would come to claim him. Right this way." They followed the doctor into the morgue, where he showed them the body in question. The man's face had obviously been crushed in, but he was still somewhat recognizable, and Lillian had never seen this man in her life.
To Lillian's surprise, her mother immediately told the doctor, "Oh, God. Oh, God. This is him. This is John. Oh, no!" And she promptly burst into tears. Lillian must have looked so stunned at her mother's outburst that the doctor took it to be shock over the identity of the dead man.
"I'm so sorry for your loss; was he your husband?"
Although his question was intended for Lillian, it was her mother who answered, rather hysterically, "Yes, Lillian and John were married! Six years! Six!! This is so awful; I can't even bear it!"
The doctor, who had looked concerned about the unfortunate circumstances moments before, still looked concerned— but this time over Lillian's mother's state of mind. Obviously wanting to leave, he said, "I'll leave you two alone." And with that, he hurriedly walked away.
As soon as the door closed, Lillian said, "Mother! What are you doing? That man is certainly not John!"
"Of course he's not John! Do I look stupid?"
"Then what are you doing?"
"Don't you understand, dear? John is gone; he's not coming back. This—"
"You have no idea if John will come back, Mother! He's only been gone 3 days!"
"Honey, will you be quiet, and let me finish?" Lillian immediately closed her mouth, but she still gave her mother the meanest glare she could manage.
"Thank you. As I was saying, John is gone. Once everyone finds this out, it will be the scandal of the town. You will be ruined, and no one will ever be able to look at you the same way again. Do you want that?"
Lillian shook her head.
"That's what I thought. Now, there is another option, which I have already begun to take. John was run over by a carriage, dying shortly after. Everyone will feel sorry for you, yes, but you won't be ruined."
"But…what about when John comes back? What will I say then?"
"Well, if John does come back, you can say that John had an accident and lost his memory. Then one day he suddenly remembered everything and came back. And that you had mistaken the dead man for him, of course. Don't you see, Lillian? This is the only way."
Lillian was slowly coming to the realization that this might be the only way, but she still didn't want to believe it. Trying one last time to convince her mother to stop this charade, she said, "But what about this man's family? They will never know what happened to him."
"This man was homeless. If he had a family, then they are probably happy they have one less mouth to feed."
"How did you…?"
"A good friend of mine told me she had seen a man who looked homeless get run over by a carriage. This is the same man she saw."
Lillian was about to open her mouth when the door opened, revealing the doctor.
"Have you made sure of this man's identity? Ma'am?" At this he looked straight at Lillian.
She hesitated and looked at her mother, who gave her look that said it's your decision. Lillian looked at the floor; when she looked up, steely resolve was in her eyes.
"Yes. This is my husband, John Nightwing."
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Lillian had waited for years. And she still had hope that her husband would return to her. (But deep down she knew. She knew he was gone. But she tended to block out reality for her own fantasies.)
It was the Christmas holidays and she was on her first real vacation in years. She had always been way too busy to have one before— being the headmistress of Spence Academy was difficult work. She laughed bitterly when she remembered something she had said to her mother so many years ago. Would you rather I became some boring old maid with a thousand and one cats or a teacher at some boarding school? But that was in the past. Today was a new day, and it had started out perfectly.
But then she saw a very familiar face. Lillian was seeing her husband for the first time in 17 years.
The shock had frozen her, and before she could find the strength to yell his name, someone else called him first. It was a young woman in her early twenties with a young child in her arms. With horror, she watched as he took the young child from her and gave her a kiss. Laughing at something one of them said, the happy family walked away, leaving her standing there as her heart shattered.
Later that night, she cried for the first time in years, knowing that that could have been her in that young woman's place with their child in her arms. And this time, she couldn't call her mother to comfort her; she was sleeping peacefully under the snow, and Lillian was almost wishing she was there with her.
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Lillian was thinking of her conversation earlier that day with Gemma Doyle. She had been in the same situation as she had been, but Miss Doyle had realized what she hadn't. Thinking someone was incredibly gorgeous and witty was not the key to a happy marriage and that was where she had been wrong. This young girl had genuinely liked Mr. Middleton, but she knew she could never be truly happy with him. Lillian had been too foolish and immature to understand that, even though she was even older than Miss Doyle was now when it had happened.
If only Lillian had listened when her mother urged her to postpone getting married. If only… Those words would haunt her to her dying day. If she hadn't married John, she would have probably found someone she could be happy with, who wouldn't have left her for not being able to have children. They would have grown old together. They would have died together. And most importantly of all, they would have been happy together.
That night, Lillian drank four glasses of sherry instead of her usual one, and she cried herself to sleep. (But in the morning, she dumped the rest out and swore off of spirits forever.)
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A/N: Thanks for reading! This is the first fiction thing I've ever finished in my life, and I'm proud of it, even if it isn't the best. Reviews would be nice, but you don't have to. (I admit, I've read a lot of fan fictions, but I almost never review. Yes, I know that's bad, but I'm too lazy to click the button.)
-Carpe Diem