Alternate Ending for Skeeter and Stuart from the Help.
I just remembered that the book is written in the 1st person but anyway, I'm too lazy to start over.
I'm French and this is my first time writing in English.
Time had gone by. Skeeter had not heard from Stuart for at least three weeks. For all she knew he could be dead. Actually, no, he couldn't be – that, she would have known, everyone in town would have been talking about this and Hilly would have been delighted to be the first to throw the news in her face and blame her by the same occasion.
Her book was a bestseller. Her mother was recovering. She was going to become a journalist in New York. Skeeter should have been the happiest girl in the world. And yet, she couldn't help but feel so blue, and every time she tried to be optimistic about her future, her heart would miss a beat and all her treacherous mind would think of Stuart.
Monday morning, everybody woke up knowing an oncoming storm was brewing. As a result, except the blacks and the poor, obviously, nobody stepped out of home.
But Skeeter did. She didn't know why, but she was glad to see the rain coming. She wanted to hear the thunder roar, and she felt guilty about it, because she knew that with the storm would come more troubles and danger for the ones who weren't lucky enough to live in a big safe house. She thought it would be so beautiful and dramatic to watch the pouring rain wash away the lingering dust.
By the end of the afternoon, the first raindrop fell, soon followed by billion others. It was a deluge, heavens were opening tonight.
She sat on the rocking chair under the porch, and just watched the rain pour and pour, letting her nostalgia flood her out. She knew she shouldn't do this, but it was too tempting. She could nearly feel Stuart's hand on hers, his lips on her forehead. And she could even hear the motor of his car roar in the thunder.
She frowned.
Actually, it wasn't thunder. It was a car. She got up, and tried to see whose car it was, but the rain was too heavy and she could barely see a thing. She thought of calling her parents, but then, a foreboding overwhelmed her and she felt unable to say a single thing. Her legs started shaking. This shape, this light blue color… Could it be…
The car was only a dozen meters away from the house now and Skeeter had recognized Stuart's car.
She could not believe it. What should she do in such a situation? Stuart and her had broken up twice, and precisely the last two times they had seen each other. Last time, he had proposed to her. But he had broken up with her because she had lied to him, and because he couldn't understand why she had written the book. What could have changed now?
She quickly returned to the rocking chair. Why didn't she have thought of bringing a book? Now she could do nothing but sit here and wait for Stuart to show up.
And what about her hair? Humidity had made it frizz and had ruined her curls. She looked like some kind of frizzy lion. And of course, she hadn't put any make up on, as no one was expecting her to go out with such weather.
She ran a nervous hand through her hair, and waited.
She heard the car door slam, Stuart's footsteps. And a couple seconds later, he was in front of her.
She gasped. He was even more handsome than in her memories. How could this be ?
He looked tired, and nervous; he was soaked to the skin, his damp blond hair were falling over his eyes, and he was carrying something under his shirt, as if he was trying to protect it from the rain.
She stood up.
"Stuart"
It was the only thing she could come up with.
"Skeeter"
He didn't seem to have a lot of imagination either.
" What are you doing here ?" she said, staring at him, unable to look away, as if he would disappear again if she did.
"I…"
He looked as if he was struggling to find something to say. Why did he come in the first place ? He himself didn't seem to know why !
"I had to tell you… I…"
What was he trying to say ? Had something serious happened ? Skeeter was frightenned now.
"Stuart, what is it ?"
"I… I've done a lot of thinking…"
He looked really troubled, agitated. How beautiful his eyes were. Skeeter hadn't realized she missed them so much. She had to hold her tears back.
"Stuart, why did you come back ?" she whispered. "It's hard enough already, I don't need that."
As a response, Stuart pulled the "thing" out of his shirt and showed it to Skeeter.
"I read your book."
Skeeter stood there gaping. She didn't expect that.
"You… You read it?"
"I broke up with you because of this book. Could you honestly believe I wouldn't read it ? It was torturing me."
"But…"
It turned out Skeeter had nothing to say. She had to wait for Stuart to speak now. She felt so helpless in this moment, waiting for the verdict of the man she loved.
"What did you think of it, then ?"
Stuart ran a hand through his hair.
"Skeeter, if only I knew…" he whispered.
What on earth did he mean by that ?
"At first, I was angry." He started. "I didn't know why you were writing this, and why you cared. But these were my own feelings and my upbringing which were obscuring my judgment. As soon as I started to immerse myself in those women lives, I forgot about my anger."
He had a nervous laugh.
"Damn you, Skeeter Phelan ! You cruel woman ! You couldn't leave me alone could you ?"
Skeeter didn't reply.
Stuart took a step closer.
"Skeeter, your book… It changed me."
She shook her head.
"I never wanted you to change, Stuart."
"No, hon- … I mean Skeeter. You don't understand. After reading it, I couldn't go back to my old life. Return at my folks' and watch them exploit the black people who live on our land. I just couldn't. I was thinking about it all the time. I was feeling guilty all the goddamn time. Everytime I'd drive past a black man or woman, I would feel ashamed. And what about my good old nanny ? Was her life like Abileens' ? – And yes Skeeter, I guessed it was her. But don't worry, I won't say a thing. You know why? Because of your goddamn book, she's like a friend now. You know, I would be the same age as her son now…"
He looked restless.
"I drove all the way to my folks' yesterday. I've talked to them. I told them I don't want to do it anymore."
"Stuart…"
"If you'd seen it Skeeter ! All these blacks on our land : they used to be strangers to me, I didn't give a damn about them ! But they're human and just like you and I… I don't even know how I could be so heartless !"
"You weren't heartless Stuart."
"Maybe I wasn't a racist, but I didn't care much for them either, did I ?" he said in a cynical voice.
Skeeter didn't reply.
"You, on the other hand, are an incredible woman, Skeeter. And you are clever. No, you are a genius. And this book (he lift it up and showed the cover to Skeeter), your book, changed my life forever. In fact, you did, Skeeter. Since the day I met you."
A tear rolled down Skeeter cheek. She angrily wiped her away.
"But I lied to you" she said with a croaked voice.
Stuart nodded gravely. And Skeeter felt the urge to explain herself.
"I never intended to… But it was so dangerous… Not for me, but for Abileen and the others. I was trying to protect them. I should have told you sooner, I know… As soon as we knew we could trust each other I should have told you."
"I know Skeeter… I… I understand now."
"I never lied to you about anything else." Skeeter whispered.
"I believe you."
And suddenly, he seized her hand, pull her close to him and kissed her.
It felt like her chest was exploding. She could feel his warm skin under his wet shirt, his hands on her waist. She pulled away with great difficulties.
"Stuart, we can't."
"But…"
He looked at her in the eyes.
"I love you, Skeeter."
Skeeter had to repress the urge to cry, though she had no idea if the tears were coming out of joy or sorrow.
"And I love you too, Stuart, God knows I do… But I'm leaving for New York. Next week. And I am not changing my mind."
She needed all of her will to say these words, because thinking about a life here with Stuart, under the sun of the south, or watching the rain pour on stormy days, was such a tempting vision.
"I know" Stuart replied softly. "And I am too".
Astounded, Skeeter struggled to find the words.
"What… When… How ? Why ? I… I don't understand…"
"I told my parents I was going to New York."
"Stuart, you can't ruin your plans for me. You love the South…"
"I'm not ruining anything for you. All my plans included fighting against the blacks rights… no, against human rights at one point or another. I studied in Law School. I was either to take my father's plantation, or to become a lawyer. And what does a lawyer do in the South these days ? No, I couldn't cope with it. I've always wanted to go to New York. I'll become a Lawyer there. And you love the South too, but we could always go back, whenever we want."
Skeeter couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"I want to fight for civil rights. I think what we need now isn't extremists, but reasonable men and women, journalists and lawyers, to change things. To make the world a better place. The world needs us. And I need you."
He pulled something out of his pocket and gave it to Skeeter. It was the ring.
"It's yours. I should have never taken it back. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Skeeter. You are the most incredible woman I have ever met."
He kissed her again, and again, until they couldn't breathe anymore.
"I'm going to New York with you, and there's nothing you can do about it."