Chapter 2 - A Gloomy Insight
Morning drew its calm atmosphere quietly through the open window, causing Leigh to stir in her bed. The warm morning sun graced across her face, making her smile in comfort. Her pillows and blankets were strewn about her, and she was very comfortable indeed.
All of this comfort was immediately erased as a loud pounding came at the door.
"Wake up, Miss, it's time for breakfast." A voice on the other side of the door spoke, soon passing at the sound of Leigh's feet hitting the hard wooden floor.
Taking a deep breath, Leigh tried to remember what day it was. Sunday. Hoping to confirm this, she walked to her window and leaned out of it, scanning the streets. Yes, it was most certainly Sunday. The church folk were already on their way to church for an early morning sermon.
Smiling, she went to her trunk that held her belongings (for she always kept them in a trunk, just in case she had to leave quickly she could do so at any time) and rummaged through various items in search of her best church dress. For, even though the other women at the Wilcox house didn't choose to go, Leigh tended to hold on to her upbringing, which included attending church.
Finding a light mauve dress with white lace cuffs at the sleeves and a skirt supported by numerous slips, Leigh felt satisfied. Pulling on the dress, she also reached for her best shoes and tugged them on as well.
Glancing at herself in the mirror, Leigh ran her horse hair brush through her own lightly wavy locks and tugged at a few knots. Reaching for her mother's old hair clip with white diamonds on the clasp, Leigh tied up her hair in a not too fancy bun.
Checking herself, Leigh felt content with her attire. It wasn't too bad for someone who had been living off of her own paycheck since she was fourteen years old, Leigh thought proudly, turning to leave her room and head down to the kitchen for breakfast.
She felt unusually happy this morning, and although her mood seemed erratic, she knew that today she was ready to make a good impression.
The kitchen was nothing extraordinary, at least not for a mansion of the great size and extent of the Wilcox House. It was large, but very homely in that it was exclusively catered to by women, and women with a sense of style, at that.
The counters glistened with clean, and the walls were wallpapered in light ivory and violet stripes. Various portraits and pictures hung in diverse locations around the room, giving off a sense of well earned propriety. Every woman who had ever entered the house to work and live there had her own special photograph hung on the wall wherever she chose to put it.
Leigh had chosen to place her picture, though small it was, in the corner, away from most of the other women. She didn't want to be remembered as one of the "girls". Instead, she wanted to be remembered as a woman who took charge and who independently lead her life in the direction she wanted it to go. And, as hopelessly untrue her intention seemed to be at times, Leigh still knew in the back of her mind that by placing her picture solely in the back corner symbolized her want to be secluded from the world, and her need to be forever in control.
Along with being a kitchen, the room also served as a dining hall. Small tables and chairs sat around the large open space in the room, all carefully taken care of and set.
Matching violet tablecloths covered the small tables, and ivory napkins and place mats accompanied them. The chairs were brass and cushioned with black fabric lined with silver thread.
The room was, in all, Leigh's favorite room in the house.
As she entered, her mother beckoned her in, motioning Leigh to sit at her table. As Leigh walked over, Madam Wilcox took her daughters hands in hers and greeted her warmly.
"How did you sleep?" Her mother asked, smiling. Leigh returned her smile.
"Well, thank you." Leigh replied, glancing up as a waitress placed a plate of food in front of her. "Could you pass the salt?"
Madam Wilcox handed her daughter the salt shaker, and watched, very amusedly, as Leigh immediately began pouring salt over all of the food on her plate.
"Is it not seasoned enough?" she asked, a hint of amused sass in her voice.
Leigh glanced up, cocking an eyebrow. "I just fancy a little extra salt, if that's alright with you." She replied, the same hint of sass in her own voice. Her mother smiled fondly.
"You're in a good mood this morning, Leigh. Normally you would have bitten my head off already." Her mother stated curiously, her eyes focused on Leigh, a plate of food cooling in front of her. "Why are you so happy?"
Leigh took a deep breath, looking up to glare at her mother. "Why is it that whenever I'm happy everyone assumes something is up?" she argued, her voice low. In a harsh whisper, she added: "It's not as if me being a bitch has to be everybody's gossip, now does it?"
Her mother only smiled. "You are right, my dear. Now eat."
~
Her mood was already sour as Leigh marched off to church with her mother. The early confrontation with her mother had brought something into focus that she had noticed before but not considered.
Everyone joked about the fact that she had a temper. Even her own mother. Well, adopted mother, that was. Her real mother had never known her that way, because Leigh had never been like this back when her mother was alive.
She had been happier, more carefree, and although the temper was there, it wasn't something that came out and bit you in the ass every time she was angry. It was more something that she let out on one person, and that person was gone now, so it didn't really matter anymore.
The large church loomed in front of them, its tall white pillars bright against the morning sun. Its windows were large and stained with beautiful colors. The doors were large and wooden, and although a bit foreboding, they were an entrance to what Leigh considered to be a very comforting place.
Besides the Wilcox house, the Anglican Church was the only place Leigh was able to go when she was feeling alone. It was her safe haven out of the rain, and no one bothered her there. She was allowed to just sit alone and cry, or think, or even just forget about her life.
She wasn't a deeply religious person, but Leigh did believe in God. She felt that if one man in the world was faithful, it was God.
Leigh found that she didn't always listen to the sermons spoken at the church, but she did find that when she was listening, she was usually very moved. What she liked most about the church was the atmosphere, and the silence and peace she experienced whenever she was inside.
This silence and peace was just the remedy for her already troubled emotions of the morning. Her happy mood had been shadowed, and now she needed time to think, and time to be unbothered. This was what she found that Sunday morning in church.
When the sermon was over, everyone around Leigh stood up and prepared to leave.
"Come on, Leigh." Madam Wilcox whispered to Leigh, reaching for her arm so as to pull her out of her seat. Leigh simply turned and stared at her mother.
"I want to stay here for awhile, if it's alright with you."
Madam Wilcox sighed, standing up straight and glancing around at the depleting crowd before looking back at her daughter.
"Alright, just make sure you come back shortly.we need you on tables today."
Leigh smiled weakly as her mother turned and left the churches doors, and took a deep breath as the doors shut behind the last person exiting. Turning back to face the front, Leigh leaned back and looked up.
Her eyes found the great painting on the roof of the church that depicted beautiful white clouds against a sky so blue it seemed surreal. Gold and silver paint lined the clouds and gave the impression that a glorious sun was trying to peek through.
Ivory doves flew through the clouds, their wings tainted with the same gold and silver. This painting had always fascinated her, for it held a special meaning.
To Leigh, the painting meant freedom and hope, and an everlasting guide through the pains and tortures of her life. As hard as it was to let go of the man she'd lost, she felt that the doves in the painting represented her one day freeing herself of his memory.
She could only hope that nothing would get in the way.
~
Morning drew its calm atmosphere quietly through the open window, causing Leigh to stir in her bed. The warm morning sun graced across her face, making her smile in comfort. Her pillows and blankets were strewn about her, and she was very comfortable indeed.
All of this comfort was immediately erased as a loud pounding came at the door.
"Wake up, Miss, it's time for breakfast." A voice on the other side of the door spoke, soon passing at the sound of Leigh's feet hitting the hard wooden floor.
Taking a deep breath, Leigh tried to remember what day it was. Sunday. Hoping to confirm this, she walked to her window and leaned out of it, scanning the streets. Yes, it was most certainly Sunday. The church folk were already on their way to church for an early morning sermon.
Smiling, she went to her trunk that held her belongings (for she always kept them in a trunk, just in case she had to leave quickly she could do so at any time) and rummaged through various items in search of her best church dress. For, even though the other women at the Wilcox house didn't choose to go, Leigh tended to hold on to her upbringing, which included attending church.
Finding a light mauve dress with white lace cuffs at the sleeves and a skirt supported by numerous slips, Leigh felt satisfied. Pulling on the dress, she also reached for her best shoes and tugged them on as well.
Glancing at herself in the mirror, Leigh ran her horse hair brush through her own lightly wavy locks and tugged at a few knots. Reaching for her mother's old hair clip with white diamonds on the clasp, Leigh tied up her hair in a not too fancy bun.
Checking herself, Leigh felt content with her attire. It wasn't too bad for someone who had been living off of her own paycheck since she was fourteen years old, Leigh thought proudly, turning to leave her room and head down to the kitchen for breakfast.
She felt unusually happy this morning, and although her mood seemed erratic, she knew that today she was ready to make a good impression.
The kitchen was nothing extraordinary, at least not for a mansion of the great size and extent of the Wilcox House. It was large, but very homely in that it was exclusively catered to by women, and women with a sense of style, at that.
The counters glistened with clean, and the walls were wallpapered in light ivory and violet stripes. Various portraits and pictures hung in diverse locations around the room, giving off a sense of well earned propriety. Every woman who had ever entered the house to work and live there had her own special photograph hung on the wall wherever she chose to put it.
Leigh had chosen to place her picture, though small it was, in the corner, away from most of the other women. She didn't want to be remembered as one of the "girls". Instead, she wanted to be remembered as a woman who took charge and who independently lead her life in the direction she wanted it to go. And, as hopelessly untrue her intention seemed to be at times, Leigh still knew in the back of her mind that by placing her picture solely in the back corner symbolized her want to be secluded from the world, and her need to be forever in control.
Along with being a kitchen, the room also served as a dining hall. Small tables and chairs sat around the large open space in the room, all carefully taken care of and set.
Matching violet tablecloths covered the small tables, and ivory napkins and place mats accompanied them. The chairs were brass and cushioned with black fabric lined with silver thread.
The room was, in all, Leigh's favorite room in the house.
As she entered, her mother beckoned her in, motioning Leigh to sit at her table. As Leigh walked over, Madam Wilcox took her daughters hands in hers and greeted her warmly.
"How did you sleep?" Her mother asked, smiling. Leigh returned her smile.
"Well, thank you." Leigh replied, glancing up as a waitress placed a plate of food in front of her. "Could you pass the salt?"
Madam Wilcox handed her daughter the salt shaker, and watched, very amusedly, as Leigh immediately began pouring salt over all of the food on her plate.
"Is it not seasoned enough?" she asked, a hint of amused sass in her voice.
Leigh glanced up, cocking an eyebrow. "I just fancy a little extra salt, if that's alright with you." She replied, the same hint of sass in her own voice. Her mother smiled fondly.
"You're in a good mood this morning, Leigh. Normally you would have bitten my head off already." Her mother stated curiously, her eyes focused on Leigh, a plate of food cooling in front of her. "Why are you so happy?"
Leigh took a deep breath, looking up to glare at her mother. "Why is it that whenever I'm happy everyone assumes something is up?" she argued, her voice low. In a harsh whisper, she added: "It's not as if me being a bitch has to be everybody's gossip, now does it?"
Her mother only smiled. "You are right, my dear. Now eat."
~
Her mood was already sour as Leigh marched off to church with her mother. The early confrontation with her mother had brought something into focus that she had noticed before but not considered.
Everyone joked about the fact that she had a temper. Even her own mother. Well, adopted mother, that was. Her real mother had never known her that way, because Leigh had never been like this back when her mother was alive.
She had been happier, more carefree, and although the temper was there, it wasn't something that came out and bit you in the ass every time she was angry. It was more something that she let out on one person, and that person was gone now, so it didn't really matter anymore.
The large church loomed in front of them, its tall white pillars bright against the morning sun. Its windows were large and stained with beautiful colors. The doors were large and wooden, and although a bit foreboding, they were an entrance to what Leigh considered to be a very comforting place.
Besides the Wilcox house, the Anglican Church was the only place Leigh was able to go when she was feeling alone. It was her safe haven out of the rain, and no one bothered her there. She was allowed to just sit alone and cry, or think, or even just forget about her life.
She wasn't a deeply religious person, but Leigh did believe in God. She felt that if one man in the world was faithful, it was God.
Leigh found that she didn't always listen to the sermons spoken at the church, but she did find that when she was listening, she was usually very moved. What she liked most about the church was the atmosphere, and the silence and peace she experienced whenever she was inside.
This silence and peace was just the remedy for her already troubled emotions of the morning. Her happy mood had been shadowed, and now she needed time to think, and time to be unbothered. This was what she found that Sunday morning in church.
When the sermon was over, everyone around Leigh stood up and prepared to leave.
"Come on, Leigh." Madam Wilcox whispered to Leigh, reaching for her arm so as to pull her out of her seat. Leigh simply turned and stared at her mother.
"I want to stay here for awhile, if it's alright with you."
Madam Wilcox sighed, standing up straight and glancing around at the depleting crowd before looking back at her daughter.
"Alright, just make sure you come back shortly.we need you on tables today."
Leigh smiled weakly as her mother turned and left the churches doors, and took a deep breath as the doors shut behind the last person exiting. Turning back to face the front, Leigh leaned back and looked up.
Her eyes found the great painting on the roof of the church that depicted beautiful white clouds against a sky so blue it seemed surreal. Gold and silver paint lined the clouds and gave the impression that a glorious sun was trying to peek through.
Ivory doves flew through the clouds, their wings tainted with the same gold and silver. This painting had always fascinated her, for it held a special meaning.
To Leigh, the painting meant freedom and hope, and an everlasting guide through the pains and tortures of her life. As hard as it was to let go of the man she'd lost, she felt that the doves in the painting represented her one day freeing herself of his memory.
She could only hope that nothing would get in the way.
~