Homecoming

Anna and John walked slowly down the lane and stopped at the green door of their little cottage. Stepping forward, John opened the door so that Anna could step easibly over the threshold and into the front parlor.

"Welcome back home, Darling." John touched his cheek to the back of Anna's head as he helped her remove her coat and hat, hung them carefully on hooks by the door, and placed his own hat and coat there as well. Anna stood still for a moment, looking steadily around the room, sweeping her gaze from side to side. She noticed all their familiar things as if for the first time, their books and family photos. The cozy room was a little tidier than usual. Everything had been cleaned and arranged with care. A vase of fresh flowers, her favorite peach pink roses, stood atop a lace doily on the table by her chair. As she noticed them, she looked back at John and smiled a little.

"Do you like them?" He hoped they would please her.

"Really, there's no need. They're so expensive." She looked a bit stern.

"Why don't you have a seat in your chair, Darling. I'll just be a moment." John went into the bedroom and placed Anna's carpet bag on a chair by her side of the bed. When he returned to the parlor, Anna was seated in the chair, staring towards the fire grate. John poked up the fire, added some fuel, and reached for the soft blue shawl from the settee, one of the last knitted by his mother. Unfolding it, he draped it over Anna, tucking the corners gently behind her shoulders.

"Would you like some tea? It won't be a minute."

Anna raised her eyes to John's. She held his gaze for a few moments, those eyes she knew so well, the deep devotion she read there. The faintest smile curled at the edges of her lips.

"Yes, that would be nice. Thank you."

"Rest here and stay warm." John's fingers brushed her shoulder lightly as he passed by on his way to the kitchen. Anna's fingers grabbed the shawl and drew it closer against her body. She heard John bustling around in the kitchen, preparing the tea. She wondered which of her favorite cakes he would have bought in the village. That the cakes would be there, she had no doubt. Living with John Bates was never boring, but in some ways, he was reassuringly predictable.

Anna sighed, closed her eyes and put her head against the back of the chair. For the past three weeks, her life had been divided between work, and time alone in her old room in the servants' quarters. When Lady Mary required her help, or some clothing or shoes needed cleaning, Anna was at work. If no task was to hand, she retreated to her room and sat quietly or lay on her bed and tried to nap. She wanted to sort out her memories, to make sense of what had happened to her. She knew that she must limit the amount of time she spent thinking about it. The pain and horror were too terrible, and would overwhelm her. She forced herself to get beyond it, to try to let go of the feelings and memories and put them behind her. Gradually, she found that often she succeeded, but only at times.

Worst of all, she could not talk to John about it. Knowing he thought he had done something wrong, and had forfeited her love, was almost unbearable. She had had to withdraw, to take some time alone and think things through. Every morning, he stood at the bottom of the stairs to greet her, a bittersweet moment. It was the brightest part of her day, and yet she could not bring herself to tell him what she most wanted to say.

"Anna, please come in. Everything is ready." She could hear the warmth in his voice, inviting her to the kitchen table. She went in, and there he was, neat in his apron, smiling brightly as he gestured to her chair. There was the teapot, some sandwiches, and, as she had expected, her favorite pink frosted cakes. She looked at the cakes, and then at John, who was still smiling, as if he could not believe the happiness of having her at home again.

"Those cakes are expensive." She wasn't really as irritated as she sounded. "There's no need."

"There is every need to welcome my wife home with as many nice things as possible. I know I can't make everything perfect for you, but if there is any small thing that I can make better, then I will."

Anna's eyes filled with tears, which she did not try to hide. They both sat down, and Anna reached across the table to take John's hands in hers.

"I won't lie to you. I have some rough days. Nothing is going to be the same as it was before. But I want to go on. I want us to make some new memories, happy ones."

"Anna, do you remember the time we feared I was going to prison, as I did, and do you remember what you said to me? You said that whatever comes, we would face it together, and you practically forced me to marry you that week!" Anna smiled through her tears. It was one of the best memories of her life. She could not resist the glow of that shared happiness, brief though it was. John continued, "There were some terrible days after that, but everything was made bearable by knowing that we were together. You were strong for me then, as strong as you are beautiful. Now let me be strong for you. Whatever comes, we face it together."

"Yes. Yes we will." She sat up straighter, and felt that her spine was made of steel. It was not over. Nothing was over. She was resolute.

Anna nodded, brushed the tears away with her hand, and grasped John's hands again, squeezing them firmly.

John pressed her hands and then released them. "Good. Now let's drink our tea before it gets cold."