We Always Come Back Home
Disclaimer: Scarlett and Gone With the Wind belong to the Margaret Mitchell estate and Alexandra Ripley. I own nothing, and if I did would I really be writing a disclaimer?
Scarlett knew what she had undertaken. After all, she had nothing to hold her to Atlanta. The house gave her pain, and the children wern't there. Anyway, they were never a comfort. Her children still made her nervous. She hardly realized that Wade was a teenager, and Ella not a little girl anymore. She still thought of them as tiresome babies that needed to be taken care of. Also, they reminded her of terrible times. She had been strong then, but she didn't know how memories would have affected her. And she needed her strength. After Rhett had divorced her, even though divorce wasn't supposed to be possible where they lived.
"All aboard the Mistress Lila, she leaves port in 15 minutes." A gruff, stout porter called.
That's me, Scarlett thought. I really am going on a grand tour. I need too. For the sake of all those boys from the county…Scarlett audibly sniffed, then hurried inside her cabin on the ocean liner. It was a big boat, headed first for Italy, then England, then ending in Ireland. Scarlett knew that she would cry if she thought of anything, anything at all.
Her life had been so sad.
After her hard times, Scarlett had been an adult. Still with her belle airs, but she had shouldered her burdon as best she could, and survived. It was the knowledge of her former strength that made her strong now. Otherwise, she might have flung herself off the boat, she was so distresses. Scarlett knew that she would never be the type to commit sucicide, it seemed to be the coward's way out, and she had always scoffed at cowards.
"Excuse me, Sir. Could you tell me the time." Scarlett had no idea what she was doing. Why had she left her room to ask the time? She had a clock in there.
Scarlett gasped as the figure turned around. She had thought it seemed so familiar, but she had no idea how familiar. The man looked like her father! (an: and y'all thought it would be rhett!) But this man was different, but with the same florid face and crisp white hair as her father.
"Miss, are you all right? Do you need water?"
"Oh, no. Just the time, please."
"Aye. It is now 4:41."
"Thank you." She retired into her room as decoriously as her startled state would allow her. That man had to be an O'Hara, he looked so much like Pa. Scarlett wanted to scream in frustration, she needed to know that man's name! If he was an O'Hara, then she would have kin. Kin was something scarlett had missed all her life, she was different in that way. Being different still bothered her, and she didn't like anything that she knew she couldn't change through hard work. Scarlett thought about how she still had her man catching training, perhaps she could put that to work to find out the man's name.
Scarlett shivered, after thinking a horrible thought. What if the man wasn't at dinner? What if he was, but was no relation? That would be unbearable. She pushed that out of her mind, saying it would be no help now, she had decided to find his name.
Scarlett must have dozed off, because she awoke to the supper call, at 6. She hurridly made her toilet, and walked down to the dining hall. It was called a room, but was as much as grand as her Peachtree street house's ballroom.
Scarlett told a butler that was serving that she would like to please sit by the irish gentleman on the left. The butler was dazzled by the smile she gave him, and Scarlett thought a lot higher of herself than she previouly had. After all, she was 30, and that was practically a dead woman, or so she thought. That was another reason why the tour was so important. To get away from her age.
She sat down by the irish man, and listened carefully, without apearing to, to his low conversation to the girl next to him.
"But it's Irish you are, Bridie. Are you so wantin' to ferget yer irish heratige in the grand splendors of America?"
"Faith, Column. I was just admirin' the gowns of silk, and saying there were none the likes in Ireland."
"Yes, but the family wanted you to be of service, not envy the ladies of a great country."
"Oh, Column." At that the girl turned to the serving dish in front of her, and lifted out a portion of rice. Scarlett could hear the brogue and wanted to cry, it sounded so much like Pa. She decided to be bold, for her Pa's and Ireland's sake.
"Excuse me, Sir? But what part of Ireland do you come from? I have family there, perhaps you would know them."
"County Meath is where I'm from, Miss."
"Why, then you must know my kin! I'm Katie Scarlett O'Hara!"
The little man showed little surprise, only a blink showed his real emotions. Scarlett was watching him, and decided that his poker face rivaled her father's, and Rhett's. she felt her heart beat heavily at this thought, she always choked up at thoughts of Rhett.
"Katie Scarlett O'Hara? I know a Katie Scarlett O'Hara, but she is nearly 100 years. She is my cousins grandmother. I am Column O'Hara, son of Patrick O'Hara. (A/N: I couldn't remember his fathers name)
"Oh, my! You must be my cousin. I am Gerald's girl!" After this fact had been released, it was as if they had known each other all their lives, and were perfectly at ease with each other. Column introduced her to Bridie, who Scarlett assumed had been a daughter, but turned out to be another cousin. Scarlett had thought that they must have been a family, with a wife somewhere, on vacation in America, but she soon saw that could not be, when Column too of his dinner jacket in the Salon after supper, and Scarlett glanced his priest's collar.
"Where are you headed, Scarlett? To Ireland to be with kin?"
"Oh, no, not for a while. First I have some obligations in other parts of Europe, some things for friends, you know."
"Yes, Scarlett darling. I know." Scarlett didn't see his face turn hard when he said this, nor did she hear the forced note of cheerfulness in his voice. She was still an airy selfish girl, even though she was hurting.
An: A new story! Yay! I got bored with my Lily/James story, after 10 chapters, so I decided to write a new chapter story. Smart, huh? And I wanted this to sorta go along with Scarlett, but not really, so don't go, that's not how it happened in the book
Disclaimer: Scarlett and Gone With the Wind belong to the Margaret Mitchell estate and Alexandra Ripley. I own nothing, and if I did would I really be writing a disclaimer?
Scarlett knew what she had undertaken. After all, she had nothing to hold her to Atlanta. The house gave her pain, and the children wern't there. Anyway, they were never a comfort. Her children still made her nervous. She hardly realized that Wade was a teenager, and Ella not a little girl anymore. She still thought of them as tiresome babies that needed to be taken care of. Also, they reminded her of terrible times. She had been strong then, but she didn't know how memories would have affected her. And she needed her strength. After Rhett had divorced her, even though divorce wasn't supposed to be possible where they lived.
"All aboard the Mistress Lila, she leaves port in 15 minutes." A gruff, stout porter called.
That's me, Scarlett thought. I really am going on a grand tour. I need too. For the sake of all those boys from the county…Scarlett audibly sniffed, then hurried inside her cabin on the ocean liner. It was a big boat, headed first for Italy, then England, then ending in Ireland. Scarlett knew that she would cry if she thought of anything, anything at all.
Her life had been so sad.
After her hard times, Scarlett had been an adult. Still with her belle airs, but she had shouldered her burdon as best she could, and survived. It was the knowledge of her former strength that made her strong now. Otherwise, she might have flung herself off the boat, she was so distresses. Scarlett knew that she would never be the type to commit sucicide, it seemed to be the coward's way out, and she had always scoffed at cowards.
"Excuse me, Sir. Could you tell me the time." Scarlett had no idea what she was doing. Why had she left her room to ask the time? She had a clock in there.
Scarlett gasped as the figure turned around. She had thought it seemed so familiar, but she had no idea how familiar. The man looked like her father! (an: and y'all thought it would be rhett!) But this man was different, but with the same florid face and crisp white hair as her father.
"Miss, are you all right? Do you need water?"
"Oh, no. Just the time, please."
"Aye. It is now 4:41."
"Thank you." She retired into her room as decoriously as her startled state would allow her. That man had to be an O'Hara, he looked so much like Pa. Scarlett wanted to scream in frustration, she needed to know that man's name! If he was an O'Hara, then she would have kin. Kin was something scarlett had missed all her life, she was different in that way. Being different still bothered her, and she didn't like anything that she knew she couldn't change through hard work. Scarlett thought about how she still had her man catching training, perhaps she could put that to work to find out the man's name.
Scarlett shivered, after thinking a horrible thought. What if the man wasn't at dinner? What if he was, but was no relation? That would be unbearable. She pushed that out of her mind, saying it would be no help now, she had decided to find his name.
Scarlett must have dozed off, because she awoke to the supper call, at 6. She hurridly made her toilet, and walked down to the dining hall. It was called a room, but was as much as grand as her Peachtree street house's ballroom.
Scarlett told a butler that was serving that she would like to please sit by the irish gentleman on the left. The butler was dazzled by the smile she gave him, and Scarlett thought a lot higher of herself than she previouly had. After all, she was 30, and that was practically a dead woman, or so she thought. That was another reason why the tour was so important. To get away from her age.
She sat down by the irish man, and listened carefully, without apearing to, to his low conversation to the girl next to him.
"But it's Irish you are, Bridie. Are you so wantin' to ferget yer irish heratige in the grand splendors of America?"
"Faith, Column. I was just admirin' the gowns of silk, and saying there were none the likes in Ireland."
"Yes, but the family wanted you to be of service, not envy the ladies of a great country."
"Oh, Column." At that the girl turned to the serving dish in front of her, and lifted out a portion of rice. Scarlett could hear the brogue and wanted to cry, it sounded so much like Pa. She decided to be bold, for her Pa's and Ireland's sake.
"Excuse me, Sir? But what part of Ireland do you come from? I have family there, perhaps you would know them."
"County Meath is where I'm from, Miss."
"Why, then you must know my kin! I'm Katie Scarlett O'Hara!"
The little man showed little surprise, only a blink showed his real emotions. Scarlett was watching him, and decided that his poker face rivaled her father's, and Rhett's. she felt her heart beat heavily at this thought, she always choked up at thoughts of Rhett.
"Katie Scarlett O'Hara? I know a Katie Scarlett O'Hara, but she is nearly 100 years. She is my cousins grandmother. I am Column O'Hara, son of Patrick O'Hara. (A/N: I couldn't remember his fathers name)
"Oh, my! You must be my cousin. I am Gerald's girl!" After this fact had been released, it was as if they had known each other all their lives, and were perfectly at ease with each other. Column introduced her to Bridie, who Scarlett assumed had been a daughter, but turned out to be another cousin. Scarlett had thought that they must have been a family, with a wife somewhere, on vacation in America, but she soon saw that could not be, when Column too of his dinner jacket in the Salon after supper, and Scarlett glanced his priest's collar.
"Where are you headed, Scarlett? To Ireland to be with kin?"
"Oh, no, not for a while. First I have some obligations in other parts of Europe, some things for friends, you know."
"Yes, Scarlett darling. I know." Scarlett didn't see his face turn hard when he said this, nor did she hear the forced note of cheerfulness in his voice. She was still an airy selfish girl, even though she was hurting.
An: A new story! Yay! I got bored with my Lily/James story, after 10 chapters, so I decided to write a new chapter story. Smart, huh? And I wanted this to sorta go along with Scarlett, but not really, so don't go, that's not how it happened in the book