A/N I feel inspired what can I say, words begging to be let out. And I really hope you enjoy this. If you haven't been put completely of so far, please continue on with the story... Also thanks to the people who has so far taken the time to give me feedback, it is nice to know that somebody is actually reading and liking the story so far...
It was a beautiful morning, the sky was bright and blue, the rain of the previous day had washed the dust out of the air leaving it refreshened and crystal clear. In a far away yard a rooster started its morning chanting, soon causing others to join in, for a few minutes disturbing the quiet peacefulness of the morning with a disharmonious symphony. Just as suddenly as the noice had started peace was restored. And the silence that belongs to night almost regained its dominion. Except for the odd rooster who had had a lie in but still felt like saying their loud goodmorning to the world.
In the large house at the end of Peachtree Street this signalled the start of the day and people were starting to stir in the servants quarters getting ready for the day ahead. Cook started banging around with her pots and pans, surprisingly agile, her large frame taken into consideration. The rest of the servant started their daily chores like any other day. For it was an ordinary day, then yet again, maybe it wasn't. On the first floor in the master bedroom the light sleep of the mistress of the house was disturbed by the distant sound of life beginning to stir. For a few seconds, in the state just in between sleeping and being awake, no memories of the past days burdened Scarlett's relaxed face and she stretched her arms luxuriously. Mid stretch the moment passed, and reality hit her, her arms frozen in an awkward mid stretch position. A pained expression marring her beautiful face. She knew that shortly she would have to get out of the bed, though right in that second she felt like never leaving the bed again. The bed that right now felt like the only safe and comforting place in the world. She clamped her eyes shut, and pressed her head hard into the soft pillow as if to block out all thoughts of the day to come.
However Scarlett being who she was would not give in to such ninny headed actions no matter how desolate and alone she felt on the inside. Tomorrow was another day with plenty of times for breakdowns, but today had to be endured. Today was the day she had dreaded, yet longed to get over and done with since that fateful evening when Melanie Wilkes, her dear Melly, had died. This was the day of the funeral. She didn't know if it had been two or ten days since the goodbye to her only frien, it had felt like forever.
She squinted her eyes open, how unfair for it to be such a beautiful day, when a thunderstorm would have been more fitting to her mood. At least if it had been pouring down, she could let her tears run freely without admitting the extend of her sorrow to the rest of the city and especially its old pea hens. She clamped her eyes shut again.
She had had no intention of getting herself involved in the arrangement of the sad event itself, but all the rest of the sour faced people that had been Melly's acquaintances and friends had been too consumed with their own grief too get anything done. And since she wanted to make Melly's last celebration worthy of the grand lady herself, she had once again had to push back the tide of emotions that threatened to crush her, roll up her sleeves and get to work. In a way it had been a relief, because it gave her an excuse not to look to far into her own mind.
Luckily she didn't have to give much consideration to what she was wearing today. Any black dress would do. And black dresses she had in the plenty. She felt sick at the mere thought. Why had society decided that grief is better expressed or more sincerely felt if one wears black? She knew that even the gayest pink dress would not alter the deep sense of loss that she felt today. But she didn't want to cause a scandal, especially not today, so she would adhere to the dress code determined by society.
It was still early but she wanted to arrive at the church in good time. Suellen and Will would arrive from Tara this very morning along with many of the other remaining people in the county. All of them wanting to pay their last respect to Ashley Wilkes wife – they had all known and respected her too. How she had hoped that Rhett would be there to help her through this day.
But he had left to not come back on the evening of Melanie's death. He was probably in Charleston right now, dining happily at his mothers table she thought with a huff. No, that wasn't fair, Rhett if any, had fully appreciated Melanie and was devastated by her passing away...
She quickly pushed any thought of Rhett to a sheltered corner of her mind, not wanting to deal with that loss in addition to the loss of Melanie on this day. It was bad enough that this was the first time since Bonnie's funeral that she had to set foot in the church. She clenched her jaw – stop it, stop it, stop it. I will not give those old gossiping grumps the satisfaction of seeing me broken.
-- """" --
As they approached the church she felt her steps slowing down, almost to a standstill. She held on more tightly to Wills left arm, and briefly looked up at his grave drawn face. A look that was reflected on Suellen's face at his right side had she cared to look. They too remembered the last time they had been in this church. How sad to lay such a young child to rest, and how equally sad now to be back again, saying goodbye to yet another person who was far to young to leave the land of the living. The church could have told tales of numerous other tales of sadness and loss, had the old stone had the ability to talk. But even without words, sorrow and despair today seemed to seep from every stone of the high speared building, or so she imagined. She felt a shiver through her body, how could people come to a place like this for comfort? She didn't understand. Even weddings that was a cause of celebration, was only a sure way to misery and loneliness– at least in her experience. So how people could fool themselves into believing that it was a happy even was beyond her.
At the top of the stairway, the massive old oak doors were opened wide, swallowing the endless stream of mourners pair by pair. The church room was decorated with only a discrete set of black bows as was fitting for a lady's funeral. However in addition to this, and what immediately caught Scarlett's attention was the sickly sweet smell of flowers that hit her nostrils as she approached the entrance. She caught her breath. The broad aisle had been almost blocked by the vast number of bouquets and elaborate flower arrangements that the mourners had bought to celebrate Mrs Wilkes last memory. She surely had been a special lady to make people deviate from the normal proper ceremony for a lady's last goodbye. Making a path of flowers from the church door to the Alter, all the way at the other end of the large church, where Melanie rested. A tasteful decoration of yellow orchids rested on the top of the small coffin, two broad ribbons flowing over the edge, making a connection with the coloured sea of flowers. The sight and smell was almost enough to finish of her resolution not to let the immense sadness that she felt show. She swallowed hard and felt Will flinch as her fingers dug into his arm.
As they sat down into the wooden church benches, she felt a slight shift in the atmosphere of the church room. She turned her head slightly and almost fainted. There in the doorway, for the first time in his life looking insecure and out of place stood Rhett. How strange how she had always been able to sense when he entered a room. She had never given this much consideration before, but now she understood that it was the unrecognised bond of love that had tied her to him that had alerted her to his presence. Their eyes met for a brief second, dead dark eyes meeting sorrowful green ones, and he came to her and sat down next to her on the narrow church bench.
He didn't touch her or talk to her, but his mere presence comforted her. She sincerely hoped that her presence did the same for him.
The priest started his sermon, but the words that was meant to bring comfort didn't reach her ears. When the organist struck the first chord, her strong resolution dissolved as the melancholic tune spread out it's wings and filled out the high ceiling church room. And the tears started flowing in a slow stream.
Later on outside as they stood around the grave, awaiting the priests final words, she felt Rhett's hand at her back, a silent comfort. How good it felt. Her tears had stopped. Instead she felt a tight knot in the pit of her stomach, she felt like screaming out her sorrow, like some banshee out of a horror story. Not that Scarlett herself put this word on the feeling as she had never heard the word banshee, she just felt that the quickest way to get rid of this hurtful sorrow would be to shout it out loud.
Inside the church, she hadn't focused on anybody else after the unexpected appearance of Rhett. But now here eyes went over the huddled rank of mourners. They were all there, Atlantas old guard, for once not busy spreading malicious rumours about her. She also spotted the far to few people who were left of the important families she remembered spending her childhood with, the people of Clayton County. There was also some unknown or only vaguely familiar faces – Melanie's family from Macon or wherever. Finally she spotted Ashley, though she could hardly recognise him. She didn't understand how she until a few days ago had seen this man as the centre of her universe. He was grey and gaunt, his ill fitted clothes hanging loosely on his far to lean frame. His formerly golden hair had overnight faded to a grim grey, Not one thing was left of the golden dream boy that she had loved for so long. Had she not known it was the same man she would probably not have recognised him, so altered was his appearance even since her last seeing him at the night of Melanie's death. Or maybe, the change had been gradual, and she had just been too blinded by her love and his empty words to see it.
No, that wasn't entirely fair; Ashley weren't the one to bear the blame for her mindless obsession. Poor sod he looked so completely and utterly lost. He stood flanked by Pittypat and Henry Hamilton on one side, India Wilkes and her long married sister Honey on the other. Beau Wilkes was the only child present, Still only a young boy, but with a look of wisdom far beyond his years on his small face. He like her own son Wade had been through so much in their short lives that it seemed incomprehensibly unfair that he should suffer even more through the loss of his dear mother. She promised herself that she would do anything in her power to fulfil her promise to Melanie and make sure that Beau would never lack anything; at least not anything that money could buy.
She felt Rhett tense by her side, and felt a cold breeze hit her back where his hands had formerly rested. She tried sneaking a peek at him to see what had caused this altered attitude, followed his line of vision, and concluded that he like her had spotted the bereaved husband amongst the mourners.
-- """" --
What was he doing here? he had continuously asked himself that question on the train ride back to Atlanta. How brief his time away had been. For the first day or two, he had successfully avoided both his sister and his mother, except for a brief hello on his first morning which couldn't be avoided. Otherwise he had spent his day out of the house. He had no clear idea as to what exactly he had been doing, he only knew that it had involve an impressive amount of alcohol. Which it didn't require a doctor's degree to say wasn't healthy for anyone and least of all him who had come quite close to living at the bottom of a liquor bottle for the past many months. Time was blurred even before his arrival in Charleston. He knew that he had to stop this self destructive behaviour but he still hadn't had the strength.
On the third morning, or so he thought, as he had once again tried to slip unnoticed out of the house, his sister had cornered him. Dear Rosemary who always worried so about him. She herself a widow of the war had moved in with his mother after its ending, and they now lived together in a peaceful union. Rosemary had coaxed him into joining the breakfast table and the questions had started pouring down on him almost immediately. Why had he come alone again? Why had he arrived like a thief in the night, avoiding them both? And most importantly, why had he left Atlanta when all propriety demanded that he attended the funeral of his wife's almost sister. His head had jerked up at the mention of Melanie, how had the news of her death travelled this far so fast. On an on they bombarded him, perhaps not realising how much pain their questions caused him, and how big an effort it would require on his part to give an incomplete answer to even one of their many question.
In order to stop this avalanche of questions he had agreed to go back to Atlanta for the funeral. He knew that he could have avoided going if he really hadn't wanted to go. But a faint curiosity as to how Scarlett was handling all of this were lurking somewhere in the depths of his mind, and thus he had went.
Finding himself once more in the city he had thought not to return to for an indefinite length of time. Next to the woman he had left only days ago, with no thought of seeing again until his body and soul had healed enough to handle another round in the ring with this hot headed wife of his.
Strangely enough he had found great comfort in sharing these moments with her; none of them had uttered a word yet, for which he was immensely thankful. Communication had never been their strong point.
He felt his body stiffen as he spotted Ashley Wilkes in the crowd of black clad mourners and automatically withdrew his hand from Scarlett's back. How strange he hadn't even noticed he had placed it there. At this exact moment he didn't feel any of his normal antipathy against the man. Either he was to numb to feel anything, or perhaps he could all to easily identify himself with the broken look that Ashley had about him. What a sad lot they all were.
-- """" --
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust… and then the unforgiving thuds of dirt hitting the wooden lid of the coffin. For a moment the whole black clad crowd held their breath. This was truly the final goodbye to a fine and very special woman. Nobody felt like being the first to break the silence, so they all stood there for a lengthy moment, stony faces as well as red eyed ones.