Hey guys, sorry it took me so long to update. I've been doing my usual stressing over chapters and then there's school and finals. Anyway here's Chapter 3 and I hope it doesn't take me as long to post Chapter 4 (maybe your wonderful reviews will inspire me ;) )
Oh and for anyone who doesn't all ready know, Tipper and I are now doing a Cal story together! So go check it out :)
Chapter Three
-Harry
On the way back to Lights' house, the meeting with Mr. Sanderson and the telegram he had given me from my parents were weighing heavily on my mind. Lights glanced over at me from time to time, but he didn't ask any questions. I knew I wouldn't be able to hide the telegram for very long, I was going to have to tell Sarah and I was not looking forward to it.
We found Sarah and Sylvia in the dining room with an older woman that Lights quietly told me was the housekeeper, Mrs. James. Sarah looked up when she saw me enter the room and immediately put down the platter she had been carrying and came over to see me.
She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and was smiling at me as she pulled away, but my anxiety must have been far more evident than I realized, because the smile immediately faded from her face and her brow burrowed, "What is it?" she asked in a soft whisper than only she and I could hear.
I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek, "Later." I said and she nodded, somewhat reluctantly, but clasped her hand securely around mine just as Sylvia spoke up and announced that dinner was ready. Sarah led me over to our chairs and I pulled her chair out for her, ignoring the chatter that was going on around me.
Lights' children were being especially loud, but neither Lights nor Sylvia seemed to mind. Even Sarah seemed to enjoy their babble and actually began to encourage the oldest child, Roger, who was sitting next to her. But I kept to myself. I was sure she noticed, but she appeared to be completely oblivious to it and stayed in the conversation that had started around the dinner table.
After the meal had ended, Sarah, to my surprise, went into the kitchen with Sylvia and Mrs. James to help clean up. Given her background, I doubted domestic duties were part of her repertoire, but it seemed as she was willing to learn and I didn't want to stand in her way. Lights took his two sons up stairs while I excused myself to mine and Sarah's room.
I sat myself down on the bed and dug into my pocket and brought the telegram out. I couldn't bring myself to open it and read it again. Not that I needed to see them to remember my fathers words, they were permanently etched in my mind and showed no sign of vacating.
Sighing I stood up and went over to the window and pushed the eye-lit lace curtain aside, starring down at the quiet street below me. I closed my eyes, trying to find a short moment's peace inside of me, but I opened them only a short time later realizing that my effort was wasted. Pressing my head against the cool glass, I realized the true reason of why I was so upset with the telegram. It wasn't that my parents were angry, or the fact that my relationship with them had been strained enough over the years and didn't need something like this to test its strength again; it was because they had found out from someone other than myself. I had planned to tell them about Sarah and the marriage in my own time but a newspaper had beat me to it.
Once upon a time, they had had such high hopes for me and I knew I had shattered many of them when they read that I had married without them there. Family was especially important to my mother and in the quiet of the room I could practically hear her tears of disappointment ringing in my ears along with my father's berating.
A soft touch on my shoulder, followed by a pair of delicate arms wrapping around my waist brought me out of my contemplative state and I veered my head slowly around so that Sarah's beautiful face could push away my distress.
"A penny for your thoughts," she said with a look of sweet tenderness on her face.
I held my hand out, mocking her, and she playfully slapped it away, giggling, "Harry."
I was unable to hold my humor though and she watched with worried eyes as the smile formed on my lips and I watched as hers quickly followed,
"What is it?"
"I've wanted to talk to you all evening."
She nodded, "Yes, I know. What's happened? Is it your parents?"
To answer her question I held up the telegram, allowing her to take it out of my hand. She opened it, still standing next to me at the window, brushing a strand of hair away from her face that had fallen away from her hair clasp. I watched her eyes dart back and forth across the yellow paper and saw her face fall as she finished,
"I was afraid of this." She replied quietly, still not looking up from the paper. "I've never even met them and they…" she looked up, handing the telegram back to me, "…They just sound so cross."
"Well, they are," I said taking it. "Thanks to who ever opened their mouth about us getting married."
"Are you telling me they wouldn't have been angry if you had told them yourself?"
Seeing her point, I shrugged my shoulders, "Well, perhaps, but at least then they could have heard the whole story before they could begin to make judgments."
She sighed, giving me a slight frown as she crossed her arms over her breasts, "Even then I don't think things would have been any different. We're not at sea anymore, we're back in reality. I'm sure if my parents were alive…they'd feel the same way."
I shook my head, "You don't know that."
She shook her own head, letting it fall as she pursed her lips together, "Are you going to tell them about the baby?"
My silence answered her question and she snapped her head up, glaring at me with accusing eyes, "Harry!"
I swallowed back my fury, trying to remain composed, "Of course I was going to tell them. It is their grandchild for God's sake. I just have more going on in my head than I know what to handle, all right and quite frankly our child is the least of my worries at the moment. To look at you, no one can even tell that you are expecting and for the time being I'd like to keep it that way."
"So when were you going to mention it? They're going to notice, Harry. It's all ready becoming harder to get into some of my clothes. Then there's the fact that I'm sick nearly every morning. It won't be long before I start to show."
"I realize that."
"Then why the hesitation? Why didn't you answer me when I asked you a simple question?"
I had to hand it Sarah, she really was beginning to find herself underneath the cover of innocence and refinement she had concealed herself with for so long, but I didn't appreciate her attitude, or the fact that she seemed to be winning this argument. It seemed after all these years I had finally met my match.
"Harry, I'm waiting," she said, pulling my attention back to her.
"Look," I relented, "You're right, I shouldn't have done that. I will them, I promise."
Any other person would have used this opportunity to rub my defeat in my face, but Sarah moved closer to me with a gently smile on her face and embraced me snuggly,
"I know you will." She replied, then pulled away, but keeping her arms around my neck, "I wish there was some way I could reassure you that everything would be all right, though."
I shook my head, "No, this is my mess. I should have let them know what was going on when I had the chance."
"Everything will be fine." She said, running her fingers through my hair, "You'll just explain to them what happened and I'm sure that they'll understand."
I nodded and gave her a small smile, but I still wasn't convinced. She gave me a quick kiss before going into the bathroom to change for bed, leaving me alone once again, longing for the confidence that came so easily to her.
No matter what anyone said or did, this situation was never going to look any better to me. I just prayed that by tomorrow I could find the words that would at least ease their upset. Either way there was no possibility of me escaping their scrutiny.
Sarah-
Harry might have thought that he had convinced me that his nerves were calmed, but all it took was to feel his thrashing around in the bed that night to know that it was far from the truth. I had kept my eyes closed, pretending to be asleep and oblivious to his sleeplessness, but was unable to ignore him any longer when he got up and began to walk around the bedroom.
I propped myself up on my elbows and watched him move back and forth across the room,
"Harry." I whispered, "Come back to bed."
"I can't sleep." He muttered and left it at that.
Sighing I turned over in the bed, knowing that no amount of talking was going to make him feel better now that he had gotten himself all worked up. I spent the rest of the night curled up in bed with my back to him, weaving in and out slumber as he continued to pace around the room.
Despite the fact that he had hardly slept the night before, he was strangely alert and energetic the next morning. Although I was quick to realize that it was more a less a desire to get this meeting with his parents over and done with, Mr. Lightoller and Sylvia saw it as excitement and as I was putting my coat on to go out the door, Sylvia commented it to me and wished us the best.
"I know everything will be fine." She told me with a wink that gave me confidence. Even though I had only met her the night before, I found her to be a lovely person and hoped we would have a chance for a friendship to develop.
I smiled, thanked her and followed Harry out to the car he had waiting for us on the street. Once we were in the car and pulling away from the Lightoller's, Harry exhaled slowly and fell back against the seat, crossing his arms over his chest. Then ever so slowly, his foot began to tap on the floor of the car.
"You really should calm down." I said, placing my hand on top of his.
"I'm calm…I'm just…nervous," he said, seemingly unaware of his redundancy.
I hid my amusement and sat back in the seat focusing on the passing scenery out my window, and was doing just fine with that when Harry got my attention.
"How can you be so at ease?"
"What do you mean?"
"How can you sit there and not worry about this?"
"Should I be worried?"
He sighed, "Well, I would think that you would be."
"I'm not." I answered truthfully and then turned away from him.
We rode on, but this time I paid little attention to anything else but the knot that was starting to form in my stomach. I took a deep breath in an attempt to make it disappear, but it only made the knot grow bigger and brought with it a feeling of dread. He was right, I should be worried.
I nervously began to coil the strap of my handbag around finger as I thought about all the possible horrible reactions his parents would have when they saw us. I saw screaming and blue faces and worst of all, silent, harsh stares.
By the time we pulled up to the hotel, I was a mess of nerves and worries and actually hesitated before I allowed Harry to help me out of the car.
As he placed his hat on the top of his head I smoothed out the green and white dress I had chosen to wear that day and then straightened my own hat,
"Do I look all right?" I asked and he answered with quick nod and tight grin. Not the kind of reassurance I was looking for. Suddenly I was self-conscious about everything, including my appearance and I needed some kind of reassurance that I wasn't going to look like a fool in front of my husbands parents.
As Harry led me up the front steps towards the hotel entrance, I cursed myself for wearing this dress and thought of the many others that I could have worn today, but I just had to choose this one. Shaking my head in shame at myself I let Harry lead me into the inside the hotel where we were greeted with a sparsely crowded entrance hall where the front desk was located.
Harry stopped and surveyed our surroundings, his gaze coming to a stop when he looked over near the arched entry way to the lobby that was to our left.
"There they are." He whispered and I looked over to where his eyes had fallen and saw two people, a man and woman, making their way towards us .
His mother was a small woman, at least two inches shorter than I was, with the same dark hair as her son. Her skin was fair and the dark blue dress she wore only enhanced it. His father on the other hand, was tall and it was quite clear that Harry took after him. He had sharp features, a strong jaw and was still quite fit for a man his age. The one feature both of his parents seemed to share though were the grim expressions on their faces as they came towards us
I was able to give Harry one nervous glance before the two reached us and brought an increase to tension all ready surrounding us. Both of their eyes were suddenly on me and I began to cower back as they performed a quick yet thorough examination. I clutched Harry's hand tightly,
"Harold." His mother acknowledged.
Harry nodded and brought his hand up to indicate me, "This is-"
"We know who she is, Harold." His father answered gruffly, "Your wife."
Harry nodded and let his hand fall back down to his side, "Right."
"Sarah is it?" his mother asked in a tone far different from her husbands.
"Yes," I held my hand out, sensing her need for peace, "It's so lovely to finally meet you, Mrs. Lowe."
She politely reached over and took my hand and shook it quickly before releasing my hand. She then cleared her throat and gave Harry a stern look that rivaled her husbands, "Why don't we go into the lobby, I suddenly feel the need to sit down."
And so we all followed closely behind her as she led us into lobby and over to two sofas that were set up especially for conversation. Mrs. Lowe began to fire off her questions as soon as we were seated, not wasting any time, it seemed, to find out everything she could about Harry and I.
"What was the wedding like?" she asked, folding her hands in her lap.
"Small." Harry answered.
"Who married you?"
"The ships chaplain."
"Reverend Davies will be quite disappointed to hear that." She turned to me, "He and Harry have always been close, ever since he was a little boy. Of course he'll be surprised to learn that you married at all." She said turning back to Harry, "We were beginning to doubt that any woman would be able to hold you down."
"Well it seems we're still right about that one, Emma." Mr. Lowe's voice suddenly boomed, "This one still looks like a girl, how old are you anyway?"
"I'm-"
"Twenty." Harry cut in quickly, "She's twenty."
My head snapped to Harry, but I wasn't about to call his lie in front of his parents.
"Twenty?" his mother repeated looking me over, "I wouldn't have guessed a day over eighteen."
"Me either." Mr. Lowe grumbled in agreement.
His words were followed by a long hollow silence that pushed me to grip Harry's hand tightly and a hard lump forming in my throat. Mrs. Lowe's eyes were on me the entire time, burning into my own as if she were searching inside of me for something she knew was there.
"Harold, I'd like to speak with you." She said shortly as she pulled her eyes off of me.
Harry looked at me and then over to his father who had barely said to words to him since we had arrived, "I-"
She rose from her seat, "Right now."
Harry had no choice but to follow her, leaving me alone with my hard faced father-in-law and the large lump that was forming in my throat.
