Chapter 9
When Rhett returned to Scarlett's room, he made his entrance with a bouquet of wildflowers that made a riotous display of color ranging from the deep purple of irises and hot pinks of phlox to the yellow of black-eyed Susan's and the pure white of lilies.
"Oh, Rhett, how lovely! How did you know?" exclaimed Scarlett.
"Know what?" asked Rhett, feigning ignorance.
"That this room has become all too stuffy. It smelled so much like a hospital that I instructed Mammy to open wide all the windows—against her will, of course," she added sotto voce. "But now, these will freshen up the room wonderfully. Thank you so much!"
Rhett couldn't remember when Scarlett had ever been so thrilled with something so simple. "I'm glad you like them, my dear. Truly, I am. Where do you want them?"
"Oh, right next to me, so that I can smell them. They are so colorful and cheerful, and they are all my favorite colors, too," she said admiringly, smiling at Rhett as he set the vase down on her nightstand.
"I understand you had a good conversation with Mammy."
"What!" Scarlett was alert at his words. "Why? Did Mammy say something to you?"
"Well, she just said you had a nice talk and you seemed to be feeling a heap better today, an observation with I heartily agreed with. Hmmm, there's a nice breeze coming through the windows now. Is it too chilly for you?"
"No! There was no breeze earlier. I'm grateful that one finally kicked up, so don't you start in on me," responded Scarlett, at ease now that she knew her fear Mammy had told Rhett about the most intimate details of their conversation was unfounded. "Mammy didn't want the windows open for fear I'd catch my death, but I couldn't stand breathing in the stale air a minute longer. I needed some fresh air and this has done the trick." Scarlett was very satisfied with herself and neatly folded her hands in her lap as she looked up expectantly at Rhett, meeting his gaze for the first time. Suddenly she was struck with a bit of nerves. She wasn't quite sure how to approach the situation, but she remembered her resolve to meet him halfway. So far, he was being nothing but pleasant. She could do the same and smiled up at him beguilingly.
Rhett took a seat next to the bed and his eyes took in everything about her. "You're looking lovely, Scarlett. Why, is that the nightgown that we bought in New Orleans?" he asked somewhat taken aback.
"Yes, yes it is."
"I don't remember you ever wearing it before," he said, then without thinking added, "Not that I have been privy to seeing which nightgown you wear and when." Immediately, Scarlett's bright smile faded and she turned away from him. Just as quickly, Rhett recognized his error and sought to remedy it. "I'm sorry, Scarlett. That was thoughtless of me and cruel. But really, that nightgown looks better on you than I ever imagined it would.
"Scarlett?" he questioned while she kept her eyes fastened on the door. "Scarlett, it really is beautiful on you. No one seeing you now would even suspect that you've been ill."
Appealing to her vanity worked and she turned back to face him and small smile played upon her lips. "Really, Rhett? It does feel good to look a little better. Mammy was quite scandalized by this nightgown though."
"Really, how so?"
"She said something about Parisians women being loose, but I didn't pay much attention. It had gotten so hot in here that I didn't want to put on a heavy, old, long-sleeved nightgown and I figured since I'm not entertaining a lot of visitors, what's the harm if I do wear something that isn't so very modest, at least by Mammy's standards. Great balls of fire, some of my dresses show more than can be seen in this nightgown."
"So true, my dear, so true, but what Mammy is referring to is what the nightgown implies. Yes, technically, you're more covered up now than in some of your evening gowns, but then again, usually with those, well, er…you're fully clothed underneath, if you know what I mean…" Rhett's voice trailed off as he absentmindedly reached for a cigar and was about to strike a match on the bottom of his boot, when he stopped, looked up at Scarlett and put the cigar back in his shirt pocket.
"Oh, go ahead, Rhett. Don't mind me. You can smoke."
"No, my dear. That's fine. I don't want to put you at risk right now and be the cause of another breathing attack. You want fresh air and by God, you shall have it, it will be no hardship on me." He grinned widely at her. "So, Scarlett…" he leaned back in the chair, settled himself and re-crossed his legs, "have you thought of any questions you'd like to ask me."
This is the very moment Scarlett had been afraid of. She was dying to ask him questions, but equally fearful of getting his answers. What if Mammy was wrong and what she said was not true? She could certainly find out directly from Rhett, and know, once and for all one way or the other. Yet, an odd pang struck at her heart when she thought of asking him her big question: Did he love her? "What if his answer is no?" She felt her heart constrict at the thought. What would she do? For whatever reason, she didn't want to hear that answer. "Which is odd," Scarlett thought, "because I've asked that question before and he has denied it before, numerous times in fact. What would be different if the same thing occurred again?"
"Scarlett? Why the hesitation? I thought you'd be asking me questions as fast as the Yankees were firing their guns at Gettysburg." Rhett had his eyes riveted on her and if Scarlett had dared to look at him, she would have seen the anticipation clearly written on his face.
"Rhett…" Scarlett started slowly, pretending to choose her words carefully but in actuality, she was stalling. She couldn't seem to find the right words or the first place to start. "Rhett…I…"
"Yes," he prompted. "Really, Scarlett, I didn't think this would be so difficult for you."
"It is not that it is difficult, it is just that it is…I don't know. Ummm, I guess you could say that it is, a…a…bit…painful," her voiced dropped at this last and her gaze fell down into her lap.
"Painful? Painful for you or for me?" Rhett questioned in an attempt to lighten the mood."
"That remains to be seen."
"Well, out with it. I can take it. I'm ready."
"Rhett," Scarlett turned her face to look at him and she held his stare and locked onto his eyes with hers. "Rhett, why did you leave me the morning after Ashley's birthday party?"
Rhett was the one to break the stare. "She doesn't start off slow," he thought to himself. He had mentally prepared himself for her questions but he wasn't quite ready for a shotgun start. He stood and began pacing at the end of her bed, occasionally running his hand through his hair. Suddenly he stopped and turned to face her and decided to tell her a partial truth. "Scarlett, I was ashamed."
"Of what?"
"I had behaved badly. I was drunk and said—"
"No, Rhett," Scarlett countered, interrupting him, "You already told me all that. You were drunk and quite swept off your feet by my charms. That's not what I want to hear. I want the real reason, the truth this time."
"Scarlett, like I said, I was ashamed at my boorish behavior, ashamed and embarrassed. You're my wife and I, I shouldn't have said and acted the way I did."
Scarlett exhaled loudly, signaling her frustration. "I know you don't think me very bright, Rhett. You are forever bragging about how easily you can read me. Well, I know that I'm lacking in that area. I never know what you are thinking, but I do know this. You go through life as though it were a menu in a fancy restaurant, ordering what pleases you. If you find something distasteful on the menu, you simply overlook it or get up and leave."
"So what are you saying, Scarlett? That I run from problems? How dare you."
"How dare I? Shame on you, Rhett Butler. I don't think I've ever known a stronger man, but yes, you do run from conflicts and you can't deny it."
"What on earth do you mean? Look at the war, for God's sake! I didn't run from that responsibility. I showed up, a bit late, but I was there."
"Please, you miss my point. I'm talking about personal conflicts." She took a breath. She was fired up now but she hesitated just briefly, knowing she was now marching into enemy territory. "You never sorted out things with your father. You took off. Did you try to make any amends? Did you? Or did you just write him off because he was cold and cruel to you and your mother and therefore, in your eyes, undeserving of a second chance? Oh, I'm not saying that he did deserve a second chance, but did you ever consider giving him one—to be sure?"
"You're way out of line with that, Scarlett. This is between you and me. Leave my relationship with my father out of it!"
"All right, then. You've left numerous times when we've had an argument. When we argued—or should I say, I argued—about the whole Caveat Emptorium thing, you took off with Wade for New Orleans and you've done that more times than I can count. The most recent being after Ashley's party, when you took for three days before leaving again with Bonnie for three months! Why don't you ever stay—stay and fight?"
"Fight for what, Scarlett?"
"Fight for us!" She blurted out without thinking.
"Us! When has there ever been an us in our marriage? If I remember correctly, either I'm the only one in the marriage or there are three of us."
Scarlett exhaled with exasperation. "Fine. Fine. There you go, always bringing Ashley back into it. If anyone puts three in our marriage, it is you." Her green eyes met his black ones straight on. Neither one of them blinked or looked away although both understood her reference to Rhett's drunken insult about there always being three in their bed when there ought to be just two. "But let me tell you this, Rhett Butler," Scarlett was too frustrated now to hold back and she barged ahead without reserve. "I was so disappointed when I woke to find you gone that morning. Everything seemed to have changed overnight and I thought—well—you said some things—"
"You said many things, too, my dear, if I recall," Rhett cut in.
"Yes, I'm aware of that," Scarlett admitted primly, her lips in a tight line. They both sat a moment in silence, digesting their shared information.
"Did you know that I was worried to death when you didn't return home? I thought you were dead and I was frightened beyond words at the very thought. I was ready to call out the police. I didn't know where to turn. Then, you showed up and were so flippant and nasty, and treated the whole situation as though it was an everyday occurrence for you. Well, it wasn't for me!" she blurted, her eyes watering up until she blinked and tears started rolling down her cheeks. Reigning in her emotions, Scarlett quickly wiped away her tears and dragged her hand across her runny nose, failing to notice the flame flickering in Rhett's eyes. "…Anyway, I suppose it doesn't matter now," she said with resignation. "I'm only asking because you said I could ask anything of you, so I'll repeat my question," she said, raising her chin in defiance. "Just why did you leave that morning?"
"Like I said, I was ashamed…and I was afraid."
"Afraid? Afraid of what?"
"Scarlett, ah, where to begin? It is such a long story," he sat back down and held his head in his hands, trying to not just gather his thoughts, but to summon the courage to find the words he had kept hidden from her for so terribly long. His initial reaction was to give her another partial version of the truth, but then remembered his promise to himself of just a few days ago to put an end to the bluffing and playing his marriage like it was a high-stakes poker game. He paused a moment to weight Scarlett's admission. That night…that night, yes he remembered, all too well. Maybe he didn't read her wrong. Maybe, just maybe, she did love him. Maybe he hadn't dreamt it after all. Could it be? Could there be a benevolent God, after all, a God who was finally answering his prayers?
And, she was disappointed when he wasn't by her side when she woke up. God, how he longed to linger in bed with her, but fear and distrust had driven him out—out and into the street. His head was spinning. He knew he was on the precipice; his knees felt wobbly, his hands trembled and his heart pounded in his chest. Swallowing hard, he finally spoke. "Yes, I said some things that night. They were not said in a drunken stupor. They were said because they are true. It is how I feel. I said them because somewhere, somehow along the torturous path that is our relationship, despite my better judgment, against my will, I fell hopelessly in love with a green-eyed girl from Clayton County, Georgia. Perhaps you know her…" He quickly looked up at her. He didn't see the expected look of triumph in her eyes. Her face was blank, but he could tell she was hanging on his words.
"That night, like you said, everything changed because I thought—I hoped—I thought I saw a change in you and that perhaps, finally, after all these years, you had finally come to feel the same for me as I did for you. I hoped so much I was afraid to face you the next morning, for fear I'd been mistaken and you didn't love me. I was so afraid you'd laugh at me I went off and got drunk—nothing more," he said, raising an eyebrow and looking at her to emphasize his point. She was hanging on his words, so he continued, "And when I came back, I was shaking in my boots and if you had come even halfway to meet me, had given me some sign, I think I'd have kissed your feet. But you didn't. So, I took off with Bonnie to try and forget you, but I couldn't do that either."
"Oh, Rhett!" Scarlett cried, but a soft knocking on the door cut off her next words.
"Miss Scarlett," said Mammy, casting a quick glance between Scarlett and Rhett. "Sorry to in'trupt but Miss Melly is here to see you."
"Fine, Mammy. Show her in," Scarlett responded, her eyes never leaving Rhett's, regret filling the green depths at the ill timing of Melanie's visit. Rhett loved her! It was true! A warm rush of feeling washed over her, leaving her flushed with excitement and anticipation.
Mammy opened the door wide to allow Melanie to enter. "Oh, Scarlett, you're looking so well! Good afternoon, Captain Butler."
"Hello, Miss Melly. I'll let you visit now with Scarlett. Are the children downstairs?" Rhett was already moving toward the door, grateful for the respite that allowed him time to regroup and gather his bearings after baring his soul.
"Yes. They wanted to get some of their toys and of course, they've been begging to see you, Scarlett, but I wasn't sure you'd be up to that yet, so I didn't promise anything," Melanie told them both.
"I'll go see how they're doing—" Rhett interjected, moving to the door to make his exit.
"Will you be coming back—or do you have an unexpected trip planned?" Scarlett called to him as he exited the room.
Rhett turned around in the doorway to face Scarlett. "Yes, I'll be coming back, my dear. Don't you doubt it for a minute."
