Regularly scheduled T rating mostly for language.
Warmth, soft cotton, the smell of cologne and sex. Scarlett's senses pieced together the morning slowly, reluctantly, aware at the edges of her consciousness that the return to reality would not be kind. Rhett's arm was across her ribs and she rolled toward him, nuzzling at his shoulder until he turned on to his side and she could cuddle against his chest. She felt safe and protected for the first time in years.
The pressure of her bladder pushed her unwilling mind toward full wakefulness. She had to get up. Still a little drowsy, she kissed Rhett's scratchy chin before crawling out of the bed. She saw her sweatshirt on the floor near the foot and pulled it over her head on her way into the bathroom. Sitting on the toilet, she put her head in her hands.
"Fuck," she muttered.
The deluge came suddenly. Fuzzy, alcohol-blurred memories from the bar; crystal-clear recollections from the bedroom. And guilt. Washing her hands, she stared at herself in the mirror as if searching for some physical consequence. She certainly hadn't wasted any time completing the betrayal they had begun when Frank had still been alive. A surge of bile choked her and she rushed back to the toilet, lifting up the seat and vomiting into the bowl.
She had to leave. She couldn't face Rhett. None of this should have happened.
Scarlett rinsed her mouth and splashed her face. Moving slowly on the balls of her feet, she crept back into the bedroom and collected her jeans from the floor. She didn't see her socks or underwear anywhere; possibly, they were in the bed somewhere. Rhett hadn't stirred, but pawing through the sheets was far too risky. With her sweatshirt hanging below her ass, she went swiftly down the stairs before she stopped to pull her jeans on. Their shoes were tossed together just inside the front door. Wrinkling her nose, she slipped her bare feet into her sneakers. Scarlett fought the temptation to walk through the house - at least the main floor - just to see how Rhett had settled in, if he had already changed anything. She wouldn't come back here. She couldn't trust herself.
Scarlett turned the lock in the knob and closed it behind her. She had to go home and change her clothes, load up the car, and collect the children. She didn't have time to think about what had happened.
Later that day
R-I stopped by your house. Do I have the wrong address?
S-No
R-Scarlett?
S-We aren't there. We left this morning for Tara.
Rhett did not answer. Scarlett was not relieved by his silence; it felt ominous, and she wondered when the other shoe would drop. How could she have been so stupid?
The drive to Tara did not take long, and in less than an hour she was lifting Ella out of her carseat as Wade scrambled across the front lawn to give his Grandpa a hug. Gerald was having a good day; he ruffled the boy's hair and called him by name, then bellowed with gusto, "And where's my little grandbaby?"
"Hi, Dad," Scarlett said, kissing him on the cheek and giving Ella over to his waiting arms. Gerald O'Hara was a short man, hardly taller than his daughter - who claimed four inches over five feet, when she stretched. His hair had gone bright white in recent years, and the curly mess was always rumpled. His round cheeks were florid, his bright blue eyes kind when they twinkled - though these days, they were too often vacant instead.
"It's been too long since we've seen you, daughter," he scolded as he lifted the little girl over his head. "My, she's gotten big! Where's that husband of yours?"
Scarlett swallowed painfully. Not that good a day, then. "Is Mrs. Ruth here?"
Gerald huffed. "Yes, yes, my nanny is waiting for me to come back inside."
Scarlett clenched her jaw. "Where's Sue?"
"Oh, your sister's around somewhere," Gerald said vaguely. Scarlett couldn't tell if he truly didn't know or was trying to cover for something he had forgotten.
She was not eager to face Suellen. Sue had come to Atlanta for Frank's funeral, looking the whole time as if she wanted to claw Scarlett's eyes out.
"Hello, Scarlett," came a cool voice from the porch.
"Well speak of the devil," Scarlett retorted.
"I do hope you'll give him my regards someday."
"After you."
"Daddy, Mrs. Ruth is looking for you," Suellen said sweetly, ignoring Scarlett.
"Wade, come get your backpack," Scarlett said shortly, turning away as Sue put her arm around their father and cooed at Ella. As they walked to the car, Scarlett checked her phone.
No messages.
No messages the next day, nor the next week. By Christmas morning, she still hadn't heard from Rhett. She told herself she didn't want to hear from him. She owed it to Frank. Nothing could come of it. She told herself many things, and berated herself for still caring.
After the gifts were opened, Scarlett was cleaning up the wrapping paper strewn around the living room while Suellen sat curled on the threadbare couch with her phone. Probably she was texting her new boyfriend, some local dropout named Will. Wade was outside with Carreen, testing out his new bike; and both Gerald and Ella were napping upstairs.
At first she thought it was just a coincidence. Sue seemed thoroughly engrossed in her phone. But, gradually, Scarlett became certain that every time she moved, her sister was making some sort of noise - a huff, a disdainful sniff, a chirpy little "hmm."
"Just spit it out, Sue. I'm sick of hearing you sniff every time I move."
"You do move fast, don't you?"
Scarlett set aside the trash bag she was stuffing full of discarded wrapping paper and sat back on her heels.
"What are you talking about?"
"I have friends in Atlanta, Scarlett. India-"
"Oh I am all ears to hear what that bitch has been telling you. She's hated me for years."
"India always was smart."
"What about her?"
"She saw you."
Scarlett rolled her eyes. "I'll just have to invite her over for tea," she retorted with exaggerated sweetness as she stood, more than ready to be done with the conversation.
"She saw you at the bar with Rhett."
Scarlett went cold, her lips thinning into a flat line, but she managed to say with studied coolness, "If I'd known she was spying on me, I would have asked her to join us."
"I doubt that would have interested her. She's not the slut you are."
Oh, she would slap Suellen. She would claw her face until she screamed. "How dare-"
"Oh, shut up. Don't play the victim with me. I know you, sister dear. Don't forget you stole my boyfriend."
"Frank-"
"You played the whore with him and he fell for it!"
Scarlett slapped her sister with all her strength. Over Suellen's squeal, she yelled, "If I could give him back to you, I would! And good riddance to both of you!"
"At least he'd be alive!" Sue said, gasping for breath as she pressed a palm to her reddened cheek.
"And miserable, I don't doubt," Scarlett shot back with venom. Sue's words had hit too close to her own guilt.
"As if you ever made him happy. You've never made anyone happy but your own self. You've never cared about anyone else."
"You're a fucking hypocrite, Sue."
"Better than a whore."
Scarlett lunged for her, but Suellen squealed again and slid down off the couch, then scrambled away. She stopped with Gerald's favorite chair between the sisters.
"You didn't waste any time. Were you sleeping with him when Frank was alive?" she asked with a plaintive note that betrayed the real grief buried beneath her animosity, but Scarlett was past caring.
"That's none of your business."
"So yes."
"No!"
"I suppose we'll find out the truth soon enough, won't we?" Sue asked with a pointed look at Scarlett's stomach.
"And just what is that supposed to mean?"
"First Charlie, then Frank. You're collecting babies like - like some sort of sex trophy."
"That's disgusting," Scarlett said, but her words were drowned out by a loud honk from the front yard.
"Will's here. I'm leaving. It's Christmas Day. Maybe you should pray for forgiveness."
"Maybe I'll just pray for you," Scarlett simpered, "Sister dear."
Sue flipped her the bird as she left the living room and Scarlett vigorously returned the gesture. After the front door slammed, she kicked the trash bag and it released a shower of wrapping paper. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, but it was already a miracle that no one had interrupted the argument. If she really vented her voice, someone was bound to investigate.
Leaving the mess to be cleaned up - again - later, Scarlett went upstairs, threw herself onto her bed, and screamed into her pillow. Damn Suellen and damn India Wilkes!
The phone in her back pocket buzzed. She fished it out and rolled over.
R-Merry Christmas
Scarlett stared up at the simple message. That was all he had to say after weeks of silence? He didn't even deserve an answer. India Wilkes had seen them at that shitty bar. It was all his fault, somehow. What would he do if she didn't answer? Ignore her or badger her? Neither was appealing.
S-Merry Christmas
The phone buzzed again almost immediately.
R-Are you free New Year's Eve?
Scarlett dropped her phone off the side of the bed and covered her face with one hand. She groaned out loud.
"Mom?"
"Yes, Wade," she muttered through her palm.
"Can I go ride bikes with Joey?"
Scarlett spread her fingers and peeked at her son. Wade stood in her bedroom doorway, hands shoved in his jeans pockets. He had become fast friends with Joey Fontaine and the two boys were inseparable. She had pulled Wade out of school before the Christmas holiday to make this trip, but with Frank's death no one had questioned her decision. Wade had not talked to her about Frank, a conversation that Scarlett had no idea how to begin. He had been even more withdrawn than usual, but she hoped this extended break at Tara was doing him as much good as it did her. The friendship with Joey seemed like a good sign.
"Wear your coat. And a hat."
"I dunno where it is." Wade scuffed his toe against the floor.
Scarlett lowered her hands and sat up. "Take that green hat off my dresser then."
Wade came in and rummaged through the mess she'd left carelessly strewn there - scarves, t-shirts, a bra-
"Here you go!" Scarlett said, moving quickly to the dresser and reaching over his head to grab the hat. Wade pulled it on and the cuff slipped down his forehead. Briskly, Scarlett folded it over in the front. The hat flattened Wade's curls to his skin and she brushed them to one side, out of his eyes. "You need a haircut, kid."
"Aunt Mel cuts it."
"Oh." Scarlett blinked, processed the little revelation, and realized it had been months since she'd taken Wade with her to the salon. Of course Melanie would have noticed, and taken care of it herself rather than trouble Scarlett. Does she ever get tired of being so fucking perfect? "Well you'll see her again next week. She's going to pick you up from school for a few days." Scarlett was working on a list of properties to check out. The budgets were more complicated now that she would have to hire out all the labor, narrowing her options and making the selection process that much more stressful.
Wade shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Can I go? Joey's outside."
"Yeah. Be careful."
Wade's feet pounded away as he ran out of her bedroom and down the stairs. The front door slammed. Her phone buzzed, the vibration sending it lurching across the rag rug.
"Leave me alone, Rhett," she muttered half-heartedly as she went to pick it up.
"What."
"Hi, honey, how are you doing?" Melanie's voice was gentle, a mix of sincerity and the desire not to be thought prying.
Melanie. Was that better or worse than Rhett?
"Hi, Mel. I'm fine."
"Are y'all having a good Christmas at home?"
Scarlett sat down on the bed and, propping an elbow on one knee, rested her temple in her palm. She made polite replies to Melanie's obvious attempts to get a read on her overall mental state. Mel would be utterly shocked to know how shallow her grief really was. Idly, Scarlett wondered if the other woman might even faint if she knew her overpowering emotion was guilt, and why.
"Scarlett, darling, Ashley and I - we just wanted to know if you were doing anything on New Year's Eve? Of course I don't expect you feel up to a party or anything like that but we are so worried about you. We don't want you to be alone. I know you're coming back to town on Saturday, and, well, if you're up to it, we would love to go to dinner with you. Aunt Pitty and Uncle Peter are going to watch Beau and I'm sure they would love to see Wade, and Ella, too, and we were planning to spend the evening with them before going out for a late supper."
Melanie's speech came out in a breathy rush, clearly nervous that her invitation would be misconstrued as making light of Scarlett's supposed mourning.
"I don't know…" Scarlett stalled, weighing the offer. She didn't want to be alone on New Year's Eve, and spending the night with just her children would be as good as. But she hadn't wanted to spend it with happy couples, either - or she could have just stayed at Tara and watched Sue flaunt her new boyfriend. Would it be even worse to spend it with Ashley and his wife? It hadn't been that long ago since she'd thought Ashley was the only man she would ever love.
"Oh, Scarlett, I know it must be so hard for you right now. With the holiday season - we just want to know you're alright, darling. I'll worry so if I know you're alone that night."
Drawing a loose strand of hair between her fingers, Scarlett let Melanie go on a little bit longer. At the very least, it would give her an excuse to turn Rhett down. There was no way she could face him - she would much rather have dinner with the Wilkeses, even with the history there. It was nowhere near as painful at the moment.
"That sounds great, Mel," Scarlett interrupted.
"Oh, wonderful! Just bring the children to Pitty's anytime you want. I think we're going to bring Beau over at 7, after dinner, maybe put in a movie or something and then we'll go out around 9 or 10. Oh, he'll be so happy to see Wade, I think he's been a little bored lately. And we'll all be just thrilled to see you."
"Sure," Scarlett mumbled.
"Give Wade and Ella my love, and your father and sisters, too. They were always so nice to me. Ashley sends his love as well. We're both praying for you, darling."
Scarlett rolled her eyes. "Thanks, Mel. See you in a few days."
Scarlett ended the call then flopped back on her bed. She folded her arms over her face, her phone clasped lightly between her thumb and forefinger. It buzzed again and she nearly dropped it, fumbling for a better grip as she sat up.
"Leave me alone, Rhett!" she repeated, seeing the new text message.
R-Scarlett?
S-I can't. I have plans.
R-Fine. Sunday?
Scarlett ground her teeth together. Damn him for being a persistent asshole, if nothing else. Better to get this over with then.
S-OK
R-I'll bring dinner. Is Wade allergic to anything?
S-OK. No. He likes hot dogs
Great. Just great.
This is so late! I'm so sorry! I've been having a succession of first world cell phone problems over the last two weeks. Tried to push for resolution today without luck and then compounded it with a Google account issue. I got so caught up in all that and then had plans after work, I totally forgot about it being Tuesday. It's still Tuesday in California!