Chapter Ten
Wednesday Afternoon
May 23rd.
Time seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. The usual hustle and bustle of the bakery did little to uplift the somber mood surrounding Snow. This day was always the hardest to deal with; no matter how hard she smiled it only worsened the still-healing wound.
The chiming of the bell from above the door caught Snow's attention. Florian stood with two small bouquets of daises and white rosebuds. He sent a sympathetic smile her way, she sourly returned it. Without so much as another word, Snow stripped herself of her apron, hung it up on the rack behind the kitchen door, and left the bakery with her husband. None of the staff questioned her actions; none of the patrons watched as she walked out the door. No one liked seeing Snow without a smile on her face. So they didn't say anything, just went on with their own business.
Florian and Snow walked in silence as they made their way down the street. Both of them having done this before had settled into unsettling sullenness. Each year on this day they never knew what to say to each other. Especially Florian. He knew no matter how much he wanted to comfort Snow, he felt like nothing he said would be enough.
Entering the cemetery, Snow finally took a hold of Florian's hand. He looked at her and saw a thin sheet of tears coating her brown irises. Again, Florian felt helpless as he continued to guide her through the winding paths towards the tiny memorial that served the purpose of this grim visit.
"Hi there little one," Florian whispered as he wiped away the developing spider webs from the small porcelain headstone. It had lost its original shiny white coating and had a hint of dust on it, but it was otherwise still in good shape. He removed the older flowers, replacing them with the new ones. Snow joined him on the ground, leaning on her knees, placing her own bouquet of flowers next to his. Her eyes flickered to the picture atop of the tombstone. It was a headshot of a baby girl, about three months old. Her hair was brown like her father's, eyes dark brown like both her parents. Her face so innocent and round and full of baby fat. Her cheeks were puffed out and covered in the smashed strawberries Florian was feeding her. The little girl sat in Snow's lap, who was mid-laugh in the picture. They were in the kitchen of their home.
A home that sometimes felt a little empty.
Snow sighed at the fond memory. "She was such an adorable baby,"
Florian nodded in agreement. "She sure was," he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her in close. "Our little Winter"
"Do you remember when we first brought her home? How nervous we were?"
"Yeah, we were a wreck!" Florian chuckled. "If it weren't for my parents I don't know what would have happened".
Snow smirked, resting her head on his shoulder. For a moment they went back to being quiet, then Snow suddenly said, "I miss her"
"I know. I miss her too."
"I miss her so much Florian."
"I know Snow," Florian kissed the top of her head. "I know"
"You were such a great father," she whispered to him. "You loved her so much"
Florian blushed at the compliment. "Aw, geez Snow. I did the best I could. We both did."
Snow turned to look at him. "Would you be willing to try again? Have children, I mean."
Taken aback by her question, Florian went into momentary thought. One beat. Two. "I would…I would love to try again," he looked into Snow's eyes. "Would you?"
"I…I think so. I loved being a mother and seeing you be a father was…so special. I feel like I'm robbing us both of something that made us so happy…" Snow stopped, starting to get choked up.
"If you think you're ready to start a family again Snow, I'm right there with you," assured Florian.
"Just…promise…promise we won't forget about her if we do," Snow ran her fingers over the letters engraved into the stone.
Florian took her hands into his, interlocking their fingers. "I promise. I couldn't forget even if I wanted to".
They both said a quiet prayer, then bid their adieus to the grave that belonged to their first and only child: Winter Elizabeth White-Prince.
"I don't know how much more I can take Ariel," Belle stated as the last of the choir kids exited the room. After little to no progress in Adam's attitude, Belle finally decided to confide in someone about her marital problems. She wasn't quite ready to go to her father just yet, so she turned to the one person she knew would listen.
Ariel, shuffling music sheets together at her podium, glanced over at Belle. "It's getting that bad, huh?"
"It's beyond 'getting bad', it's downright horrible." Belle leaned her head back against the back of the chair, feeling a headache beginning to form. "I feel like I don't even know who he is anymore."
Trying to choose her words carefully, Ariel asked, "Well…have you been supportive enough? I mean, you know, you're not making him feel bad or anything are you?"
"Of course not!" Belle was sitting up straight now. "I've been nothing but supportive! I always try to motivate him!"
"Okay, okay," Ariel raised her hands in defense. "So…how has he been taking it?"
"He just…acts like such a child! All he does is yell…he won't even talk to me or tell me what's wrong," Belle wrapped her arms around herself. "He's making it seem like it's all my fault."
Ariel tossed her purple handbag over her shoulder, ready to call it quits for the days. She walked over to Belle, took her by the hand, and pulled her in for a nice cuddly hug. "It's not your fault Belle. Adam is just having a really tough time right now, he doesn't know how to deal with it."
"But that doesn't give him the right to take it out on me, Ariel. I'm his wife, he should know that I'm on his side no matter what."
Ariel led them out of the Choir Room, towards the exit of the building. "So what are you gonna do? Will you get a divorce?"
Belle swallowed hard. "I don't want to, but if push comes to shove then that's what I'll have to do."
Ariel frowned at the sound of that. She knew Belle and Adam had their differences sometimes—hell, they met each other arguing—but she never thought their arguing would actually lead them to divorce. She needed to change the subject, fast. "I'm getting concerned about Jasmine,"
"Why's that?"
"She keeps comparing Aladdin to Jafar. Like, she still seems to think that Jafar was the better man for her,"
Belle shook her head. "She needs to stop doing that. Al may not have as much money as Jafar, but Al is still able to provide for her and he actually loves her."
"She doesn't seem to think so," Ariel unlocked the doors to her car. "She's always complaining about him. He doesn't do this, he doesn't do that. It drives me crazy."
Belle slid into the passenger seat. "Have you told her that?"
"…No."
"Well you can't expect her to stop if you don't say anything Ari. Maybe you need to have a talk with her."
Ariel didn't like the sound of that either. She was a much better listener than she was a talker, besides, talks with Jasmine never went very well. But Belle had a point. Jasmine really needed to be informed about her attitude.
"Okay I'll talk to her," Ariel pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street. "Hey, you want to go visit Mulan?"
"Right now?"
"Yeah. I'm pretty sure she's home."
"Shouldn't we call first? She might now want company today," reasoned Belle.
"She's been cooped up in her house ever since she had Lotus; I'm sure she'd be more than happy to have us over."
"I still think you should call first."
"No," Ariel's face broke into a grin. "I want to surprise her."
She stood atop of the small pedestal, scrutinizing her silhouette in the reflection of the three-way mirror. Her hands fiddled with the bodice of the dress: ivory silk material with a flurry of beaded pearls and gem decorating the sweetheart neckline, trickling downward into a glittery arrangement. The skirt, made of silk organza, flared out all around her like flower petals; the train sat in a pretty puddle three feet behind her. She tried to envision a veil over her head, a bouquet of flowers in her hands, walking down the aisle where her would-be husband would be waiting for her. Would he smile? Would he cry? Would be proud to call her his wife?
"Anna?" Elsa called softly from the couch she was sitting on.
Anna slowly turned away from the mirror, facing her sister in what would be the fourth wedding dress she'd tried on. Half-smiling, Anna wrung her hands together. "Um, I'm not too sure about this one either."
"What is you don't like?" The consultant asked with genuine concern, "You seemed so sure about it in the dressing room."
"I know I just…" Anna bit her lip, not wanting to share her true feelings in front of the woman. She fixed her gaze on Elsa. "What do you think?"
Elsa cocked her head to side. "I like it. I never thought you to be a strapless girl, but it looks good on you," Elsa's face melted into a smile. "You look beautiful Anna,"
But Anna didn't feel beautiful. She felt rather inadequate. Not good enough. She hadn't felt like this since…she hadn't felt like this in a long time. Anna went to wringing her hands again. Elsa noticed this.
"Um…I don't think I'll be buying a dress today," said Anna as she stepped down from off the platform.
The consultant gave her a sympathetic smile. "Okay, I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe you just need a little more time to think about what you want,"
Anna nodded. "I'll be right back Elsa,"
"I'll meet you in the car," Elsa answered already rising from the couch, keys jingling in her pocket.
Once in the dressing room, Anna allowed the lady help her out of the dress. To her left, three other gorgeous gowns hung on the rack. She offered them a somber glance before directing her eyes back to the floor. The lady handed her back her regular clothes and smiled at her. "Don't worry. You will find the perfect dress, it just takes time," then she left Anna to dress herself.
It wasn't the dress Anna was worried about. It was her. She let out a shaky, frustrated grunt as her mind though him. He was the last person she wanted to think about. Oh, how she wished she never met him; how she wished to forget him. She thought she did. She never about him until now. Ever since she got engaged she'd been filled with conflictions. She was happy to marry the man she truly loved, but she also had one big regret.
She cast the dresses another glance as she tugged her shirt over her head. White dresses. The symbol of a bride's purity and innocence.
Except she was neither.
Anna ignored the hot tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She gave a quiet thank you to the woman and met Elsa outside in the car.
"You okay?" Elsa asked, studying her younger sister's face.
Anna nodded and faked a yawn. "Just a little overwhelmed,"
"Okay. I'll take you back home and you can rest until Kristoff comes home. He should be back tonight right?"
"Yeah," she twisted the engagement ring around on her finger, those conflicting feelings growing stronger. Elsa wanted to press the issue further, but decided against it, not wanting to pry too much. Instead, she drove off to Anna's house.
Mulan laid on the chaise in her living room, her head nestled into the pillow with one arm slung over her eyes while her legs spread across Ariel's lap. Belle returned from the kitchen with a cup of rose tea, placed it on the table, and took a seat in the armchair adjacent from her. Lotus slept in Ariel's arms. The room was tense and quiet. Mulan had just finished spilling her guts about her absentee husband, and how tired she was, and how she felt abandoned and alone. She hadn't expected to cry like that in front of them. She'd been holding it in for so long, she finally snapped. She was emotionally drained as well as physically drained. She just felt so weak.
"I wish you would have called," Belle spoke first. "You know I would have helped,"
"Me too," Ariel chimed in. "You should have said something Mulan,"
Mulan reached for the cup of tea, sipped from it and relished the immediate comfort it brought her. "I didn't want to bother you," she took another long sip from her cup.
"You wouldn't have," Ariel swaddled Lotus in a thin blanket. "We all agreed to help you, remember?"
"You don't have to do everything by yourself Mulan," said Belle.
"I know that but…Lotus isn't your responsibility. And you're right, I shouldn't have to do this by myself, I should be doing this with my husband," Mulan laughed bitterly, holding her cup in her lap. "Of course, you can't tell him that."
"When does he come home?" asked Belle.
"In five days."
"Then why don't you have your parents look after Lotus until then? Or maybe even Mushu? You really need to get some rest and give yourself some time to prepare to talk with Shang,"
Ariel tucked Lotus in her play pin. "You need to tell your parents what's going on too. I'm pretty sure your grandma will whip him into shape. You also need to make sure he listens to you, don't back down."
Mulan nodded. "Okay,"
Belle passed Mulan her cell phone. "Call your parents and ask if they can take Lotus, then leave Shang a serious voicemail; let him know you mean business. I'll pack Lotus an overnight bag," she rose from her chair and headed for the stairs before Mulan could protest.
"Then after you've done that, call the spa and make an appointment. It'll be my treat," Ariel said nudging Mulan with her shoulder.
Mulan hugged her. "Thank you, you're the best"
"We know," Ariel said along with Belle from the nursery.
Mulan dialed her parent's phone number. This conversation was going to be interesting.
Belle comes home to a dark, quiet house. She finds the living room vacant, but still a cluttered mess. Adam must be asleep, she figured as she walked to the kitchen to make herself a quick dinner. Wary of waking her sleeping giant, she went with last night's leftovers: spaghetti and meatballs. She occupied herself with making her plate, she didn't even notice the shadow of Adam looming behind her.
"Where have you been?" his voice, grizzly and rough, ruined the silence in the house.
Belle nearly dropped her plate at the sudden intrusion. She spun around to face her husband, hand over her chest. "Adam! Jesus, honey, you scared me"
"Where. Have. You. Been?" he asked again, ignoring Belle's obvious statement.
Belle turned back to warm up her dinner. "I went to visit Ariel at her choir practice, then we went to see Mulan."
"You didn't say you were going to see Mulan," the anger in his voice became apparent.
"It was a spur of the moment thing, I didn't know—"
"You should have called me first!" Adam banged his fist on the table, clattering the vase of flowers. "I don't like not knowing where you are!"
Belle pinched the bridge of her nose. She was in no mood to deal with this tonight. "I'm not a child Adam, I don't have to tell you where I am every second of the day."
"You're my wife, I have every right to know where you are," Adam argued back.
"If you wanted to know where I was, why didn't you just call me?"
Adam went quiet. She was right and he knew it, but he wasn't going to admit that. He needed to keep control of this argument. It was the only control he had at the moment. "I shouldn't have to call you, you should just tell me where you're going to be from now on,"
"And you should learn to pick a phone and call me if you're so concerned about my whereabouts," Belle took her dinner from the microwave and brushed past her husband, going up to their bedroom. Alone. Again.
Belle cringed when she heard a crash hit the floor—she assumed it was the vase on the table.
That separation was becoming more and more of a possibility.
"Eric, I'm home!" Ariel announced, kicking off her sandals at the front door. She hung her sweater on the coat rack, and made her way to the living room where Eric would likely be watching some football game or another.
Like she suspected, Eric was reclined on the couch with an overgrown Max curled about at his feet, a bowl of half eaten potato chips balancing on his abdomen, and a grape soda in his hand. She leaned over the head of the couch to kiss his cheek. "Eric. I'm home," she repeated.
"I heard you," he answered dryly. "How was practice today?"
"It was pretty good! They finally got Seasons of Love down packed. Now if they can perfect Walk Through Paradise with You by next week, we'll be ready for our concert." Ariel snuggled herself in the small space next to Max, ruffling the fur on his head.
"Mhm," Eric replied.
"Belle stopped by too! We went to go visit Mulan afterwards, Lotus is getting so big,"
Eric gave a half-committed grunt. For a moment, Ariel thought Eric was immersed in the game he on TV, but when she actually saw what he was watching—why the hell is he watching golf?—she knew something else was on his mind. "What's wrong?"
Eric shifted a bit, noticeably uncomfortable about…whatever it was. Ariel stared at him, implying for him to say something. Sucking his teeth, Eric uttered, "Jim called for you."
Oh god, here we go. Ariel tried to keep her voice as neutral as possible. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. Three whole times," Eric couldn't hide his agitation even if he tried. How could he not be though? What man wouldn't be agitated if another man called their home asking for their wife?
"Did he say what he wanted?"
"You." Eric grimaced, he didn't like the way that sounded. "He wanted to talk to you," he corrected.
"Alright, I'll call him in the morning."
"Why don't you just like your boyfriend now," he muttered under his breath. Only he didn't mutter low enough because Ariel heard him.
"Jim is not my boyfriend Eric!"
"Yeah, whatever, keep on telling yourself that," Eric rose from the couch. "Come on Max, let's go for a walk".
"Do you think I'm cheating on you?!" Ariel said to his back, offended by the low key accusation.
"No," Eric fastened the leash to Max's collar and walked out the door. Not yet, anyway.
Author's Note: Hello! First, I want to apologize for being gone for so long. Last semester was emotionally and mentally difficult for me. I went through a patch of depression and my self-esteem wasn't in the best place, so I couldn't bring myself to write anything at all. But now that that's over, I feel much more motivated and determined than ever. Also, I'm not working right now so I should have more time to update. I'm not going to promise weekly updates like I did before, but I will try to make them much more consistent. Thank you for your wonderful compliment, comments, and patience! :)