Chapter 38

Marjorie stepped down from the train, grasping tightly for the handrail to prevent any embarrassing falls, and giving the slight impression of a reluctance to emerge from the cozy warmth of her car into the coldness. As soon as her feet hit solid ground, though, she turned from the train, never to glance back. She grasped her bag tightly to her chest and looked around the station, searching for the familiar raven hair and smiling face, but she found nothing. The platform was so crowded with passengers boarding a disembarking from the train that Marjorie couldn't see anything. Instead, she disappeared into a sea of heavy coats and luggage.

Pulling her coat tightly around her shoulders, she began her march out of the train station, having set her eyes on the ticket master toward the front in hopes that he would be able to help. Pushing through the crowd, Marjorie heard a squeal of excitement come from somewhere in front of her though she didn't register this sound as being any different over menagerie of the other noises that filled her ears. In fact, as she kept her eyes trained on the ground, she didn't see the frame of the girl running for her until she had been enveloped in a thrilled and firm hug.

"I can't believe you came!" The voice rang out shear excitement. Marjorie, still having yet to see her attacker just giggled and tightened her grasp on the girl whom she knew was her friend.

"Sarah! I missed you so much."

Pulling back, Sarah held her friend out at arm's length. "Oh my, becoming a productive society lady has done you well! I'd say you seem much older since the last time I saw you." Marjorie rolled her eyes. "No I'm serious. You look very beautiful and very proper." Sarah emphasized the last phrase and smiled with a slight wink. That was the desire of every Peabody girl- to be proper, whether they were natural beauties or not. In Sarah's opinion, however, Marjorie didn't have to worry about the beauty part. She fell into that category hands down.

"Enough about me." Marjorie giggled, positively shinning from her compliment. "You're positively exquisite. Is this a new dress?"

Sarah blushed, "not really. I got it at the end of summer."

"Well then it's new to me. Do you realize how long it's been since I've seen you?" Marjorie laughed. Tears of happiness sprang to her eyes. She couldn't believe she was free! She was with Sarah and she'd be going back to school soon; she had miraculously survived the year and now life would return to normal.

"Oh, there's so much I have to tell you! I've been keeping a list of the things I didn't write to you. There are some things that were just too good to put into a letter; they deserved a personal conversation." Sarah happily let Marjorie go, so that they could turn toward the exit of the train station, but still maintained a death grasp on her friend's hand. "And you must tell me everything as well."

"I'm afraid there isn't that much to tell… What?" Marjorie reacted to the narrowing gaze Sarah proceeded to shower on her.

"I do believe that I have read the name Robert more than once during our separation, and you must share! Oh and I was told by Benjamin to immediately give you a hearty welcome home the moment I saw you." Sarah hummed the fact knowingly. Marjorie just shrugged in an attempt to divert Sarah's excitement, but she couldn't resist the childlike smile that stretched across her lips. She opened her mouth to speak, but quickly shut it again as she saw a familiar man walking toward them.

"Marjorie!" The older man smiled a happy smile, his eye shining with pleasure.

"Mr. Clarkson, I want to thank you for your invitation."

"You are welcomed at our home anytime, you know that. I'm only glad that you and Sarah will have some time to spend together before you go back to school."

"I am too." Marjorie turned to smile at Sarah. She loved the feeling of welcome that pervaded the Clarkson family, and she never ceased to feel like she belonged with these people.

Mr. Clarkson reached down to retrieve the valise from Marjorie's hand before falling in line next to them. "Let's get you home where you can get warmed up and Sarah can fill you in on all of the things you've been missing." Marjorie sighed, utterly content.

Michaela went hurdling down the hallway, turning the corner of her bedroom with the aid of her fingers, curled tightly around her doorframe. She propelled herself onto her bed and landed in the fluff completely out of breath. Today had been wonderful, just like the way things were before Marjorie had ever come home. She had met her father for lunch, and they had spent extra time walking through the park, watching the boats go up and down the lake. Then, after he finished work, they had dinner and he had even indulged her in a game of chess (and was consequently surprise by the progress she'd made). Now, though, her bedtime was quickly approaching and she had ten minutes before her father came to read her nighttime story.

But the bed felt so good, she didn't really want to get up now again, and instead sunk further into the down. Staring up at the swirl of fabric draped into the center of her canopy, she haphazardly slid a few stray hairs out of her face, allowing her hand to brush under her arm, scratching at a soft itch before finding its place nestled to her side.

"Mike? Are you ready?" She could hear her father's voice echo from the bottom of the stairs. She let her eyes slid shut in utter contentment before answering.

"Not yet," She grumbled, rolling of the plush bedding and onto the floor, stopping long enough to pull her shoes and stockings off.

Martha had come in and lit a lamp not long after the sun had set, which now illuminated her room in a subtle glow and allowed her to move comfortably around without bumping into anything. Michaela eventually came to land in front of her floor length mirror, staring at her reflection with her hand poised at the top button of her bodice. She stopped, though, before she undid the button and let her arms drop to her side while she eyed her reflection. This morning when she had put her dress on if had been slightly uncomfortable, a little too tight around the bottom of the bodice where it flowed into the skirt.

Turning sideways in the mirror, she examined the place where her dress seemed to strain a little against the seam. With a finger, she poked at the fabric, feeling her skin indent under her touch, and knitting her brow together. She raised her gaze back to her own face, slightly puzzled. Michaela sighed, half heartedly, her hand moving once again up her body to scratch the persistent itch under her arm before returning to her original task of unbuttoning her blouse.

Quickly, Michaela shrugged out of her bodice, letting her dress fall to the floor. Once free from her confines, she shook her hips from side to side, enjoying the feeling of freedom. Her outer garment was soon accompanied on the floor by her chemise and her bloomers before she reached for her nightgown from the top drawer of her dresser and hastily slid it over her head.

"Good knight!" Michaela cried out, unwittingly taking on one of Marjorie's phrases as her underarm succumbs to another fit of itchiness. Trapping the rough fabric of her flannel nightgown under her arms, she ran her arm back and forth against her body in an effort to scratch the unrelenting discomfort, but was unsuccessful. "What is going on? Is it a rash or something?" she murmured off handedly to one of her dolls sitting on a chair next to the mirror as she unbuttoned the neck of her nightgown and pulled it down low enough to examine her arm pit. There was nothing except a little redness from her persistent scratching, no bumps, no bruising. Sighing her frustration, she jerked her neckline back up as the sound of a soft wrapping warned of the opening of her door and when she turned around, she found Joseph was standing in the doorway.

"If we wait much longer there won't be any time for a story before its bedtime."

Instantly forgetting her discomfort, she smiled as she finished the buttons on her nightdress. "I'm all ready." With a single leap, she found herself back on her bed, smiling happily back at her father leaving her discarded clothes on the floor.

"So, what is it you've been reading?" It had been a long time since their last bedtime story. The one they were working on several months ago had long been finished by Michaela alone, reminding Joseph that his daughter was well beyond the years where she needed a story to be read to her and therefore the reading of one was just as much a privilege for him as it was for her. With a content smile, Joseph picked her book up off her nightstand and glanced at the title while he moved to sit on her bed. He had missed this.

Reclining against her headboard, Joseph opened his arms wide enough for Michaela to climb through before closing them around her in a firm embrace. Opening the book in front of them both, he began in his hushed tenor, "Chapter twelve…"

"Wow, Christopher, I do believe I've seen a ghost!" Benjamin Grisham's mock exclamation was filled with hearty laughter. He energetically jumped to his feet while reaching down to clap his friend, who remained seated on the bench, on the back. It was a sunny day, exceptionally so for a cold winter day, but the sun's rays radiating to the earth coupled with the lack of wind easily made most forget that it was even cold outside. It had been a difficult day to spend inside studying, but made the Friday afternoon all the more beautiful once class was over.

Benjamin, who had been waiting in the park with Christopher for almost an hour now, smiled down the pathway as he saw two familiar figures walking toward them.

"Benjamin Grisham, you better hush." Marjorie called out with her own laughter, "You make it sound as if I'd died or something."

"I thought perhaps you might have. What was your father thinking, keeping you all the way in Boston for so long?"

Marjorie just smiled as she and Sarah reached the boys. My, it was such a long time since she had seen them, and all the fluttering and excitement returned just as it always had done. It had been a week since school had started once more, and things couldn't possibly be going any better. Perhaps what they say is true: absence does make the heart grow fonder. She enjoyed being back in Hartford; she enjoyed unpacking her things into her room and fixing all the trinkets. It felt as if she had never been away from Sarah, and Marjorie was even enjoying the company of some of the other girls. It seemed in part as if they were nicer to her, more patient and interested in what she had to say. Sarah said it was primarily due to the fact that Marjorie was a woman now, having officially come out to society, and many of them admired her- especially some of the younger girls who seemed to hang on her every word. In fact, with all of the things that were going right, Marjorie could only think of one downfall to being back in Connecticut- Robert was still in Boston. She had been true to her word and written him several times since she had returned to school, always very interested in what was happening with him. However, now standing in front of Benjamin once more, she was completely swept away, forgetting the events of her coming out and the many calls from Robert she had entertained while in Boston.

Had Benjamin always been this handsome? He had gotten taller since she had seen him last, and his dark hair had lightened slightly, entertaining golden highlights while the sun gleaned off his hair. His eyes were just as dark and piercing as she remembered, but now were offset with addition of a slight goatee on his chin- still a little scruffy and small, but large enough to look presentable.

"Benjamin Grisham, I do believe you've gotten a haircut since I saw you last." Marjorie tilted her head to one side, considering the close-cropped mane that lay smoothly against his skull. She smiled at him, a smile that ran much deeper than the shallow teasing of her words before her eyes tilted away from Benjamin's face toward the boy whispering softly to her friend. "Hello, Christopher."

Christopher's eyes shot up from their fixated place on Sarah's face and smiled at the recognition. "Hello, Marjorie. I'm glad you've finally been able to return to us, Sarah was missing you dreadfully." Sarah lowered her face in a blush and Christopher raised his hand out in which Marjorie silently pressed her fingers into for a genteel gesture. Quickly, though, her attention turned back to Benjamin as she moved to take his arm. Together, the two of them turned down the paved walkway with Sarah and Christopher trailing not far behind.

"You must tell me of all the gossip, everything that's happened."

"Well…" Benjamin searched the year for any bit of information that Marjorie craved. "The Christmas dance wasn't the same without you this year." Marjorie laughed. "Oh and you would have enjoyed it too. Wouldn't she, Christopher?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, I suppose she would have." Christopher's half-hearted answer seemed not to withhold the same excitement as the voice who posed the question. Marjorie didn't seem to notice the change in tone, though, and instead turned excitedly to Benjamin.

"What happened?"

"Well, let's just say that Kathleen Roberts is not longer being courted by the ever popular Jason Carrington." Marjorie gasped her delight.

"What happened?"

Benjamin shook his head. "That I don't know. You might ask some of the girls." Benjamin threw his gaze to Sarah, strolling behind him.

"Oh no, Marjorie, do be gentle with her. It must have been horrifying. One day she was talking of how she might have a ring by spring and then the next day Jason was telling her that she wasn't the type of person he was looking for in a wife." Marjorie's eyes grew wide.

"Did he say what it was he was looking for that she fall so short of his desire?"

"Not that I'm aware. All I know is that Kathleen didn't go to class for a week, she seemed heartbroken and probably slightly embarrassed from the entire situation. Everyone was so certain they would be married."

Marjorie turned back to Benjamin, not registering the last few lines of compassion that Sarah whispered for Kathleen. Instead, she pulled tightly on Benjamin's arm, "I'm sure he was looking for someone who could keep her little mouth shut when necessary," she grumbled under her breath. Only Benjamin heard her and replied with a smile.

Marjorie brushed off the disturbing news with a shrug of her shoulders. "Oh never mind, perhaps now she'll realize that perfection should not be bragged about. How does the saying go? 'Fate is a cruel mistress?'" Marjorie fell into a silent stroll next to Benjamin. Last year Kathleen had been a thorn in her side, she had been teased at every possible moment, and everything Marjorie seemed to posses was destroyed in the wake of Kathleen's sharp tongue. Now, things would be different; she was certain. Why, look at which one had the beau, and who must start over from the beginning? For a young lady who seemed the bane of her family, Marjorie was certainly was doing alright for herself.

With a great fwop both Michaela and Miriam fell back into the downy softness of Miriam's bedding, both too stuffed to move.

"I wish you'd spend the night more often. Then I'd get breakfast in bed every day!" Miriam exclaimed, sighing with deep satisfaction. Michaela, laying her hands across her belly simply groaned.

"Nancy spoils us too much. Martha would never let us do anything like this." She reached over with her leg and ran her toes along the long smooth edge of the silver tray, now sitting empty with only a few crumbs for proof that anything was ever there.

Miriam yawned and stretched her arms over her head. "What do we want to do today?"

"We could go to the park… or the library. I don't know. Father said he wouldn't get off at the hospital until at least four, so we have all day to do whatever."

"Oo," Miriam rolled onto her side so that she could look at Michaela. "I like the library idea. I bet Mother would let us take the carriage."

With a great deal of effort, Michaela rolled from her comfortable position in order to stand straight. "I don't know…" she lifted the window sash to peer through the pane, "it's so pretty outside. It might be nice to walk."

"Whatever you want." Miriam followed Michaela's movements and found herself skirting the edges of the bed. "What dress did you bring?"

"My brown one. I thought it would be the warmest if we play outside."

"It'd certainly be perfect for a walk. I think I'll wear the blue one. That would look nice together: my blue and your brown." Michaela smiled; somehow Miriam always managed to think of these things and Michaela was never quite sure how. Her dress selection had depended on warmth and Miriam's on color. Michaela couldn't help but feel that the enthusiasm with which she had pursued being more girly had fallen away after the lack of results she had received from the ball, and she just couldn't muster the desire to try as hard anymore. Whether this fact made her sad or not she was unable to decide. What she did know, however, was that something felt different, but she couldn't place what it was. She couldn't understand why she felt so strange, and really couldn't seem to care overtly about anything. Heaving a sigh, she pulled her nightgown tightly across her body, feeling the fabric scrap against tender flesh. She turned to Miriam, who had already shrugged out of her nightgown and stood at her dresser pulling at a clean chemise and drawers.

Michaela watched her friend for a moment, wondering slightly if Miriam ever felt as strange as she did, or if she was alone in the bizarre world. She watched Miriam pull on her clothing, which fitted her body just as it should. There didn't seem to be any places where the seams pulled too tight. Miriam didn't seem to have any uncomfortable itching or self-consciousness, and suddenly Michaela felt insignificant both for comparing herself to her friend and also for finding that she came up short. However, as insignificant as she felt for the moment, her curiosity, her desire to know without a doubt if she was all alone made her pose a question aloud.

"Do you ever…" Her sentence began before Miriam had turned around, but now that she was staring back at her, Michaela couldn't seem to find the words she wanted. "Have um… any…"

Miriam's eyes raised in interest. Did she have any what? "Yes…?" She had never seen Michaela Quinn speechless before, and she had to admit that it was quite humorous.

Taking a flustered breath, she glanced around the room, as if the china dolls were intruders who were unwelcome in their conversation. "Do you ever have any… sore spots?" Her words were almost a whisper as her hand made a slight gesture about her chest. Miriam's eyes got wider, leaving Michaela wondering what she had said wrong, but before she could retract her question Miriam had turned toward her dresser and pulled out another mysterious item.

"I had it all the time until Mother gave me this. She had that it would keep fabric from rubbing against the sore spots." Miriam turned around with the contraption in her hands and held it out to Michaela. "You can have this one if you'd like. I have another one." Michaela took a step back, eyeing her oddly. "It's not that bad one you get it on. I can show you how to do it."

Michaela's eyes fluttered from the object to Miriam's smiling face and back. Was this a joke? Yet, she knew by the look on her friend' face that Miriam was deadly serious. Screwing her face up she considered the object once more. Well, it couldn't hurt, and if it was suppose to help…

Michaela however was still unsure as she moved forward and pulled the garment into her hands, fingering the coldness of the hooks and silky satin. Once she had given it a thorough going over, she looked up at Miriam who was waiting patiently.

"What is it?"

"It's called a corset."

There's chapter 38! I hoped you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think?