November 1874 (please excuse possible date disparities. Still trying to work out.) Beaux turned 10 in september. Wade turning 12 in February. Scarlett is turning 30 within a few months. Rhett approx. 46.

If Rhett had stayed at Melanie's wake and funeral long enough, someone would have mentioned the big brawl between India and Scarlett. But he wouldn't find out about that till more than a year later.

In the year after Melanie died, Scarlett, began a transformation that was noted all over social circles in Atlanta. Some would claim that they finally saw what Melanie Wilkes saw in Scarlett O'Hara. Others thought that she was trying too hard. More than a few thought she was planning to divorce her husband and finally get Ashley to marry her. But still, Scarlett was no Melanie Wilkes. But, people noted that she paid little attention to Ashley and months went by, with no separation from Rhett Butler in sight. In the days following Melanie's death, she had after all, punched India Wilkes clear across the face, and made a mysterious visit to the home of Belle Watling. Many said that if she didn't have money, she would just be considered poor white trash. But what made Scarlett almost mythical, was that she didn't care. She didn't hide behind her scandalous acts anymore. She was kind and polite to everyone, but not phony. She no longer gave compliments she didn't mean. She no longer flirted with other women's husbands.

The easiest transition for her seemed to be winning over her children. Ella was only seven years old, and unlike Wade, hadn't known as much tragedy. She hadn't known the war. Scarlett felt she was most like Sue Ellen, which was unnerving, as she was the child that should have been Sue Ellen's. Ella had looked like Frank as a baby, but was turning out to favor the O'Hara side. Maybe it was just because she had only known her mother's side of the family. It was hard for Scarlett to not compare her to Bonnie. But without Bonnie right there for the comparison, Scarlett became able to see that Ella was at least not dim. And Scarlett made it a point to make sure the child paid attention to school and knew how to add and subtract. Scarlett had found compassion, but she couldn't tolerate stupidity and was relieved that the child was able to learn. Not that Frank was dumb; he had been a decent businessman. It was just that Scarlett was far better in math than all her husbands, even Rhett. And so Ella's memory was easily rectified. Scarlett even took the time to buy her extraordinarily beautiful clothing, making up for her early inattentiveness. And since Ella was a little bit like Sue Ellen, and maybe even a bit like Scarlett, she took the gifts happily. Within a few months, the dear child believed that was practically a princess. And that maybe when she was a baby, she had had as much attention lavished up on her as Bonnie did. Scarlett casually told her stories about how Frank had acted as insanely with her as Rhett had with Bonnie. How they used to fight over who would get to take her to the mill. She told Ella never to trust a man who didn't love and spoil his daughters. Wade was another story. He had a sadness about him that healed more slowly. He had a quiet resolve and an overdeveloped sense of his responsibility. And even though they had servants, he had an almost compulsive need to help out. He also spent a lot of time at the Wilkes' home.

But what really made her the center of attention in Atlanta was the fact that she began to donate money to charitable causes as if it were going out of style. Every new schoolhouse in a 50-mile radius seemed to have come across her. She would come in her carriage with some chaperone, and very quickly talk to teachers about what they needed. And southern schools needed plenty. She was known to buy new dresses for the girls. She sent money to her sister Careen to give to her church. She practically demanded the renovation of certain schoolhouses. When teachers would plead with her to accept a gift for her generosity, she would only take some old, tattered book and read it at home. Reading still frustrated her, not because it was difficult, but because she never agreed with the writer. She never understood the point. She was cynical about love, and more cynical about war stories. She knew that both never turned out the way poets described. She would huff and puff about how a real war story would talk about dysentery and limbs being cut off. And love… well, her love life, to her dismay, had turned out as equally horrific. But she began to read nonetheless, and sometimes found some humor in something. She wanted to ask Ashley for some of Melanie's books, but she just decided to buy new copies in Atlanta. Shakespeare, Dickens' A Christmas Story, Hugo's Les Miserables. She could never separate herself from the stories though. She was Scrooge or the Thenardiers. She was Eponine lusting after Marius. And when all ended okay in the book, she'd realize nothing had been reconciled in hers.

Of course, Scarlett was never a fool with her money. She knew enough about money and business to be sure she would never to get swindled. She had enough experience buying and spending money to be quite confident. And she no longer bothered to act simpleminded and dense in front of men. She would make quick calculations in her head, add up the money they needed, the money she donated, and her profit margin before most men had even taken their pens out to make the calculations. She came up with figures faster than they ever could, and didn't even acknowledge their surprised glances. The little girls in Atlanta secretly, and some not-so-secretly, worshipped her. Sometimes, shamelessly, she would mention Bonnie and say that it was in her daughter's honor that she gave this money to the underprivileged. She would also tell them that it was her husband's idea to give so much of what they had made to charities and schools. And she signed each check as Mr. and Mrs. Rhett Butler. She figured she may not be Mrs. Butler forever, and she was happy that their names were together on something good and pure. And though the positive attention made her happy, she couldn't help but feel that Melanie and her mother were up in heaven smiling at her. Even when she wasn't sure she believed in heaven, she still allowed herself to think about them on a cloud somewhere, looking down on it all. Sometimes she thought of telling Rhett that, just for his own amusement.

She still thought of Rhett every day, if not every hour, wondering when he was going to come back and comment on her charitable causes. He, who knew that she would mock most charities and chastise Melanie for all her good deeds. She wanted him to know that she was doing well, and doing good things. And she wondered if he could love her as a good woman, and not some petulant, spoiled child. She remembered all the times he had been around her, watching her, thoroughly entertained. And it always unnerved her. And now, sometimes, she would search for his eyes somewhere in a crowd. Rhett knew everything about everything; surely, he would come back. At least, out of pure curiosity. She found it hard sometimes. Though no one ever saw it in her face or demeanor, sometimes she would feel the overwhelming sadness of having lost everything. Missing her parents and Bonnie and Melanie and Rhett so much. She cried at night at Tara. She was happy to be there, and felt safe and comfortable. And she never had her old nightmare, where she was lost in the woods. And when she would wonder why, she just figured that she wasn't lost anymore. She knew everything she needed to know, and had lost so much. She dreamt of the past a lot, and that upset her. She was never one to dream of that past. But almost every night, in blurry sequences, she would see her life and all the people in it, which was almost pleasant except that she'd wake up missing everyone. Sometimes she would consider calling for Mammy, but Mammy was so old… and she had put her through enough.

Scarlett more than ever, found she had to fill every second of the day, for fear of thinking about the past. Thinking about Rhett. Part of her wanted to run to him and make a fool out of herself. Go to Charleston and convince his family to bring him back somehow. She would have felt better if she knew that he was out on the town, like the old Rhett Butler. But she had this gnawing feeling that he wasn't all right. She couldn't bear the thought of getting a telegram one day, saying that he was dead… and when she didn't have a book to read in the study, she would still go to that reliable brandy, and drink her thoughts away.

When Rhett left Melanie's wake, she immediately had a telegram sent to his family, saying that he was not in good spirits, and his daughter's death had taken a lot out of him. She told them to please be kind and patient with him, and allow him to stay there as long as he likes.

So a year went by, and Scarlett continued her various charities and her business at the mill. She even put a stop to hiring cheap labor or ex-convicts. She claimed that since the business finally had success, they could pay employees. When she finished A Christmas Carol (which was given to her by a teacher that loved Dickens), she would have seen the similarities between her and Scrooge having these sudden awakenings. But the beginning of the book scared her so much that she dreamt that Frank Kennedy's head was on her front door. She never continued it. She read other Dickens' novels though, remembering how Melanie had talked about his books at Twelve Oaks so many years ago. It was yet another way to feel closer to Melanie.

So Scarlett's days were filled, but just like an petulant child, she turned from one distraction to another. She even began cooking more, something she had vowed not to do if she could ever afford it. She found that the children were alarmed whenever she was in the kitchen. This small act concerned Mammy, who was the only one around who really knew Scarlett. One day she said, "Miss Scarlett, you can't keep running from your thoughts. That Captain Butler is no good to leave you alone for all this time. And even before Miss Bonnie passed, he certainly knew had to leave you for long spells."

Scarlett actually smiled at that, mostly because Mammy had gone back to calling Rhett "Captain Butler" instead of "Mista Rhett". Mammy and Rhett had gotten along so well at one point. Thinking of the red petticoat Rhett had bought her, Scarlett planned to go into town and buy Mammy some things. And she had planned to tell Mammy to ease up on chores again. It was out of pure selfishness, of course. Scarlett couldn't bear losing Mammy right now.

One thing on Scarlett's mind was to find a wife for Ashley and a husband for India. Neither was an easy task. And neither could know that she was attempting this. Ashley was still significantly depressed. And India had the stigma of being an old maid. She would have to find India someone older. Ashley would need someone like Melanie; someone just so good and decent that he would feel it was Melanie all over again. Her true goal was to get Ashley married and off to New York for the banking job he wanted years ago. Sending Ashley off might help her get Rhett back. Yes, in all her independence, she still wanted Rhett. Her cynicism would never go as far as believing that he wasn't coming back. He had told her he didn't believe in second chances and fixing what was broken. But she couldn't help believe there was something new to be had. She had toyed with the idea of sending him a telegram saying "You have a wife that loves you and wants to take care of you. Please come home." She even wrote it down and kept it in a drawer in her bedroom. Someday, maybe she would send it.

She had left Ashley alone, not being able to bear the guilt that Rhett had told her was "her cross to bear." The guilt of all the years she had wished Melanie would die or Ashley would leave her. India and Aunt Pittypat stayed with him. He cried and cried, and only stopped to attend to Beaux. She was so jealous that he had Beaux and she didn't have Bonnie.

So in November of 1874, she finally heard from Rhett. He sent a letter, politely thanking her for contacting his family. She found it a positive thing that he sat down to write her a letter, but there was still an irritating casualness to the letter.

Dear Scarlett,

My thanks regarding you contacting my family. I shall stay in Charleston a few weeks longer, as I have found ways to help my family, and they have found it in their hearts and minds to allow me to. I hear you have been making use of your time (and my money). No worries though. Maybe there is enough money in the world to save our reputations (and our souls). On a side note, my family is quite insistent (against my wishes of course) on visiting you at Tara. Please let me know if this is acceptable to you.

Regards to Wade and Ella,

Rhett

Of course, Scarlett found the letter to be typical of Rhett. He was clearly doing everything he said he would. Treating her with open kindness and politeness, but still not resisting sarcasm. Not signing "Love, Rhett" or "Your Husband, Rhett".

She sent a letter to him the next day, telling him that as long as he was her husband, he and his family would always be welcome at Tara. She even added that even if some calamity should befall their marriage, he and his family would still be welcome at Tara. And she signed it, Love, Your Wife, Scarlett.

One Tuesday afternoon, she had fallen asleep reading Shakespeare in the study, when her husband came to visit her. He enjoyed seeing her at Tara. She had given Sue Ellen and Will far more than Tara was worth, and even when sleeping, she looked content, with rosy cheeks again.

He came in so quietly that she didn't even wake up. And when her sleepy eyes opened, she thought she was still dreaming. He stood before her, looking thin and worn, but still handsome. He couldn't help looking handsome. She rubbed her eyes and crinkled her green eyes in a bit of confusion.

"Rhett, is that really you?"

"In the flesh, my dear."

She was annoyed that he still had that false, casual way about him. She almost wanted him to be more like the Rhett that walked out on her. Sad, disillusioned, but brutally honest.

"You look terrible. Are you sick?"

"I knew I could get some refreshing honesty here. Everyone in Charleston tells me I look great. I suppose one might consider me visiting my wife some sort of mental breakdown… speaking of mental breakdowns, do my eyes deceive me? Or are you reading?"

"Oh Rhett… sorry to disappoint your illusions about your silly, illiterate wife. Clearly, you leaving me has caused a true mental breakdown." She couldn't help being sarcastic around him.

"Truth is, a teacher gave me a bunch of Shakespeare books to read, and I haven't found one I've enjoyed…"

"Oh, I would think Shakespeare would be an excellent study for you. Lady Macbeth, she's a very special lady."

"She's just your type. Doesn't seem to really care for her husband. If she was real, I would try and fix you two up…. DAMN, DAMN DAMN!"

"Oh dear, you are having a nervous breakdown…"

"You caught me off guard. I'm sleepy."

"Well, I would hope that sarcasm is the one thing that survives our marriage. And you are right, I think I would take an interest in Lady Macbeth."

"At least I never ordered you to kill…"

Rhett smiled again.

"True indeed. I read them years ago. When there was nothing else for southern gentleman to do. Not bad stuff."

"Interesting that you describe yourself as a southern gentleman. Well I hated Macbeth. It seems to me Shakespeare enjoyed blaming war and violence on women. 'Oh, it must be his evil wife! Or the witches. Or Hamlet's mother!' And don't get me started on Romeo and Juliet."

Rhett laughs.

"That one does seem a little… naïve for your tastes. Scarlett, I must declare that a separation has never looked so good on a woman. My instincts were correct. Me leaving you has turned you into a better person."

Her face almost formed a pout, but she held it in. The word "separation" irked her to no end.

"Let's not romanticize your exit."

Rhett enjoyed the way she said things now with such flat matter-of-factness.

"They will be here in a few weeks."

Scarlett stood up and regained some alertness.

"How long will you be here? Have you told them about your plans to divorce?"

"Well, not in so many words… I suppose I don't care about the reputation of you and I. But they are the only family I have… so you might have to put up with me a little longer. I will stay here until they arrive, and then leave with them, if you don't mind."

Scarlett kept trying to hide how annoyed she was with the direction of the conversation. Rhett never said things like "if you don't mind" to her. She walked a little closer to him, studying him in an almost intrusive way.

"It seems to me there is more to that story, no? (she did not wait for an answer). Rhett… I never asked for a divorce, nor do I want one. I only agreed that if you supply me the papers, I will sign them. You're going to have to make up your mind soon Rhett. If you want to marry someone else, hell… I'll throw you the wedding myself. But you can't have everything your way…"

And she walked out of the room, clearly agitated.

As she left, she said, "I think I am going to plan a small party for your family, as long as you don't mind. I don't feel we opened our arms to them quite enough. Family is very important to me now. I think they would enjoy feeling welcomed here. And if it's not too much trouble, please go find Ella and Wade and give them whatever gifts you've brought them…"

Rhett smiled and Scarlett continued talking.

"Oh I know that you haven't lost all your manners. The guiltier you are, the more extravagant the gifts are…"

Rhett stood there. It seemed the more honest Scarlett was with him, the more dumbfounded he became. What part of the story didn't she believe? And why was she right? He almost didn't want to stay at Tara, even though Scarlett had an old room fixed up as if a king were staying there. He didn't know how to deal with Scarlett or himself anymore. She loved him, but felt she couldn't have him. She was regretful, but honest enough to know she would live her life the same. She was mad at him, but not enough to yell.

And now he was mad that she was still stronger than him. And suddenly mad that she saw through his departure. Mad that he couldn't seem to come up with divorce papers to hand her, even though she said she would sign them. Mad that he was mad and not indifferent. He knew how to handle her in the days that she wasn't motivated by his love, but instead motivated by his money. And he couldn't really punish her financially. Even if he took her money away, she would find a way to get it all back. It was enough to drive him mad all over again. But he did not have the strength to chase her or run from her. He was happier at Tara than he had ever been. And even she had said that maybe they weren't meant to be married.

She never had such instincts about him before, and the less time he spent with her, the smarter she became. The truth wasn't quite as interesting as she might suspect. It's just that his mother and sister had really given him a lot of guilt about leaving his wife. And it wasn't the stigma of divorce that they talked about. It was the idea of leaving a woman who had lost her child. A woman that they suspected, he had chased and talked into marrying him against her will (they knew quite well about his reputation). Of course, they didn't really know Scarlett well enough, or that she was drunk when he proposed to her. But what they said haunted him on a certain level. He had forced her hand. He had married her knowing that she loved Ashley. She had told him so. And part of his leaving was to reclaim himself, to stop feeling ashamed. But it didn't seem to work. And to his dismay and joy, Scarlett was better without him. Honest about herself, her life, her love for him. She seemed happy to love him from afar. Part of him wanted to be insulted that she didn't chase him and look at him longingly, like she had with Ashley. Part of him wanted to test her limits.

Part of him wished he had taken her up on the offer she made to him in jail years ago. How crazy was it that the more audacious she was, the more he was crazy about her. He laughed sometimes remembering how elaborate her hoax had been at first. How she had pretended to be worried about him. How boring that would have been. Now, he didn't doubt her authenticity.

Maybe if she had just been his mistress, he would not have had the sadness of living as an unhappy husband. Now, he wanted to be around her, but only at a distance. Only to see what she would do next. Like so many years ago, when he would hear about how she married her sister's beaux and be amused for days. But he wasn't amused so much anymore. There was a silent challenge between them. She wasn't pretending she didn't love him and she wasn't pretending that she was desperate. It was the ultimate act of respect. It was honest and calculating at the same time. It was brilliant. It was a game he wasn't sure he knew how to play.