My Darling Love
Chapter 11 – The Cowardly King
"The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother."
-Theodore M. Hesburgh
Mary was so busy with two toddlers running around, wreaking havoc, knocking some things over and breaking others, she never noticed that her first monthly in October went missing. When the children hid George's glasses and played a game where they would not speak to anyone but each other, Mary was too busy lifting sofa cushions and searching through drawers and closets to look for her monthly in November that was just as lost as his spectacles. By the time December rolled in, she was more concerned with counting the days until Christmas with so much left to do, than counting the days since her last courses. It was not Mary that noticed, but George. It was Christmas morning, and she could not stomach the smell of the delightful dinner on which she was already hard at work.
"We've been careful in that way, haven't we?" he asked, as she held her apron to her mouth and stepped away from her potatoes on the stove. George had noticed the mild slope developing on Mary's normally flat abdomen only a week earlier, but did not want to speak of it, fearing he would insult her. 'Anyway,' he thought, 'we've been careful since that one specific night.' But alas, together, they looked up, to where their bedroom was. George realized (remembering that wonderful night when they made love several times without concern) that he could never say that any of their children were intentionally conceived.
Mary refused to admit she was with child, even though she knew it long before that moment. She scoffed at George, told him he was imaging things, and went back to cooking. By the New Year, she had counted the months, but still denied that anything bloomed in her belly. When her dresses did not fasten, she held them closed with a safety pin, as she had when hiding Wendy. "Maybe you should freshen up the maternity dresses in the attic," George suggested.
Mary quickly responded, "It's just extra weight from the holidays. In a few weeks I will lose it. I think it's rude and very impolite to call me fat, George."
In spite of her protests, she grew bigger in the waist as the weeks passed. The movements from within were explained away as stomach indigestion, "My mother once told me if you swallow a lemon seed a whole tree will grow out from your stomach, and that is what is happening, George, I'm sprouting a lemon tree."
Comments such as this would leave her husband with a curious expression. "There is something not right with Mary," George told her father as he too looked on with a strange face.
Soon enough, George could take her denial no longer, and bluntly told her, "Mary, we are going to have another baby. You must take better care of yourself and stop this nonsense at once." Mary never raised her voice, but on this occasion, she did, and demanded that George sleep on the sofa.
When she was carrying Wendy and John, Mary and George made love up to the night before she delivered. With this secret baby hidden in her swollen belly, she would not allow George to touch her and accused him of trying to inflict another child upon her. "No George, absolutely not, you are not allowed to touch me. Get away, I don't want you anywhere near me. This is all part of your plan to get me in that way again, after I specifically told you I did not want another baby. If you cannot control yourself, I will call the constable and have you arrested!"
The more he pleaded for release of his manly urges with her, the more she threatened him with arrest. "Mary, I am your husband, no officer of the law will take me to prison for wanting to make love to my wife."
Mary always retorted with, "Try me, George."
Poor George spent more time in the washroom alone than in his bed. He was at a loss for what to do, as was Wendy. Her mother now refused to carry her around as she had before. "No, Wendy, you are a big girl now, and big girls will walk on their own two feet and not be cared by their mothers." John suffered also, as Mary now treated him as if he were a newborn.
Grandpa Joe sat in his favorite chair puffing on his pipe trying to sort out all the chaos around him, finally coming to one unavoidable conclusion: Grandma Josephine had to go. He was the one who listened to the women after George left for work, her mother-in-law constantly criticizing Mary's every move.
"You are such a bad cook, Mary, whatever you make it always tastes the same... You are not cleaning the floor properly, Mary, you must get down on your hands and knees and scrub... You dote on Wendy too much, and carry her around all the time. You will spoil her legs and when she gets older, she will be unable to walk... John is still a baby, you weaned him too early and now he will no longer be bonded to you, I bet he doesn't even know you are his mother... You are not pregnant, Mary, you are simply fat, all women get fat when they get to your age..."
The worst came when Grandma Josephine starting lying about George. Mary, by now at her wits end, heard the endless haranguing, "Because you are so fat, I suspect George has probably taken a mistress or mistresses. All men do when their wives lose their shapes. I'm glad I watched my weight... Best not let him touch you, Mary, men bring all kinds of awful things home when they lay down with loose women... You don't want your innocent babies getting sick from something George gives to you..."
As a result of her mother-in-law's dire warnings, Mary now began to nit-pick at George for the smallest infraction of the new rules -- rules she created to keep her children safe from any unknown "infections" George brought home from the whorehouse. "I told you not to sneeze in the kitchen, George!"
He tried to humor her, but in his own frustration, his fuse was unusually short. "If I have to tell you again, Mary that I have not taken a mistress, I'll..." He wanted to say "hit you," but he wouldn't, for George would never hit her. He would also not use empty threats.
But Mary, driven distraction by her unacknowledged condition and her hypercritical mother-in-law, taunted him. "You'll what, George, hit me? Why don't you hit the children while you're at it?"
Grandpa Joe remained silent when their arguments were confined to the privacy of their bedroom, but once, Mary lost all control, and openly insulted her husband in front of everyone, including their children, at supper table. "Maybe if you weren't always groping at my undergarments I would have time to iron your shirts."
At this, Grandpa Joe put his foot down.
That was not the only thing he put down. With a loud bang, Grandpa Joe also slammed his fists down upon the table. The children had no idea what their mother meant, but the adults did.
George was flabbergasted and turned bright red as Grandpa Joe took action. "Children you are excused. Go to your room until I call for you." Wendy almost four, and John a few months from two ran from the table at full speed. First her father turned to Mary, "Mary Elizabeth Baker Darling, your husband can grope at your undergarments whenever he wants. He has never taken anyone to bed but you, and if you continue to be rude, unruly, and throw preposterous accusations at him, I myself will bend you over my knee and spank you hard enough so that you won't sit for a week. Now clear the table and wash the dishes, and iron your husband a fresh shirt. NOW!"
Next he turned to Grandma Josephine, "Listen here, woman, wipe that wicked grin from your face, go to your room and pack your bags. As long as I am alive and this is my house, you will not live in it another moment." Finally it was George's turn.
"George, this is your house." George tried to stutter a denial; Grandpa Joe just said it was his house. "No, George, this is your home, and your home is your castle. Your wife is your queen. Your children are your court. Your mother is the dragon. The dragon should not reside in the castle. Call your brothers and have one of them take her in. They inherited your father's money, they should have the burden that comes with it."
Grandpa Joe patted George on the back and then leaned into his ear, "Your mother is the one driving your poor wife insane. It begins the second your foot hits the pavement outside and does not end, even when you hang your hat at night. She is the one who put the idea of a mistress in Mary's head. She is the one who told Mary she is not expecting your child. She is the one that calls Mary fat. She is the one who calls Mary a bad mother and wife. She is the one who single handedly invaded your castle and set it aflame. She laughs at you, George, while your marriage burns. Do something before it is too late."
To show his sincerity, he shook George's hand as he left him at the table. "Who wants Grandpa Joe to tell a story?" he shouted up the stairs after the children.
"Only if it ends with a kiss," Wendy shouted with excitement meeting him on the top landing.
"Alright get your brother and come back downstairs now and I will tell you the happiest tale in all of the land."
In the parlor, with Grandpa Joe in his favorite chair and the children at his feet he began. "Once there was a king named George and he had a beautiful Queen named Mary. They lived in a huge castle, the finest in the entire world, but there was one problem. In the highest tower there was mean old nasty dragon that made everyone who lived kingdom unhappy especially the Queen...." Grandpa Joe's story ended with King George slaying the dragon and Queen Mary being so happy she gave the king a kiss as a reward for his courage. In Wendy's imagination, she replaced the brave knight that the king became with a pirate captain that king needed to call to save the day. He was the one that got the kiss, and he carried the queen from the castle on his horse away from the kingdom to sail away and live happily ever after.
Mary cleared the table and did the dishes. She ironed all of George's shirts; even the ones already pressed hanging in their wardrobe. George left after dinner to search out his brothers, and Grandma Josephine went to her room but didn't pack.
The next morning at breakfast, Grandma Josephine sneered to Grandpa Joe. "This is my son's house, not yours," she scowled to Grandpa Joe. "You may live within these walls, but it is by his good graces only. He pays the bills and I'm not leaving until he tells me to. And if you ever speak to me again like that, I will see that you are the one to pack and be sent to the church mission. That's right, Mary is your only family, without her you'll be homeless. Best you keep a silent tongue with me, Joseph Baker."
She then went into a tirade about how her fourth son, who had always been her favorite, made all the money and supported everyone under his roof. He was the king as far as she was concerned, but Mary was no queen. Oh, no, she continued. Mary was the court jester who, in her loose ways, seduced the king and tricked him thrice into unwanted additions to his family's regal and royal bloodline. "You know, Joseph, had Mary never led my innocent little boy astray, George would have been a priest. But no, sweet Mary would never let that happen. She stole a saint from heaven and made him a sinner! You may have forgiven her, but God has not and for that alone, I never will!"
Grandpa Joe gawked at Mrs. Frederick Darling the Fourth, face stupefied in disbelief, "Priest? George is and has always been a banker, Josephine..."
Grandma Josephine laughed out (loud like any wicked witch would) and retorted, "He was saving his pay to enter the seminary, he would have been a priest -- no, actually Joseph, with God's special arrangement, I'm sure my son would eventually become the pope."
That was the most ridiculous thing Mr. Baker had ever heard in his life, but before he could tell her just that, she went on to call Grandpa Joe the peasant that stole the king's treasures, going so far as to call him a "thieving greedy lazy criminal."
Grandpa Joe was not one to sit back and take insults. Before he reacted to her words he wanted one more assurance that she deserved the slap he was waiting to give her. He then politely inquired after George's children. She retorted bitterly, "They are bastards, all of them, and I doubt one of them belongs to George. He only plays the part of father to them because he is just that good of a man and feels sorry for any child born fatherless. The bigger fish sired Wendy and everyone knows that. If Mary would lie down for George, then I know she did the same for a man with more money. Why she didn't marry him? That's simple. Your daughter is a devil in the flesh, and she wanted my son, for he is a saint. She'll get a special reward when she returns to hell for capturing him single-handedly. Penny's husband fathered the baby she carries now. That's why she denies she is expectant because she knows my son does not believe a word she says, because your daughter is a liar! And her telling George that poor grieving man, who had only lost his wife the night before, tried to force himself on her--! Well, she probably was wearing one of her silky nightgowns, smelling all pretty, doused with perfume, she was asking for it. She wanted to get in the wrong way again to keep my favorite son trapped in HELL! Face it, Mr. Baker, your daughter was and will always be a dirty wanting whore."
Grandma Josephine did not attempt to deny who fathered John, because looking at him, one could tell he was a miniature version of George, right down to spectacles he would need to see later on in life.
Grandpa Joe listened and stewed in his own juices at the senior Mrs. Darling's tirade. He clenched his fists so tightly, they turned white. She could see the fury rising in him as she went on and on about his only daughter, his most priced possession. She was intentionally cruel and spiteful in her words, hoping beyond hope he would hit her. That way she could kill two birds with one stone, Mr. Baker and his daughter. She ended with a very nasty, "Go ahead Joseph, whack me! My husband was a stronger man than you and if I can live through his brutal beatings, you're feeble fists will not even bruise my delicate skin!"
Right then and there Grandpa Joe decided it was best not to smack George's mother, she was right on one measure. If George threw him out of the house, he would have nowhere in the world to go except his sister's. Stubborn as he could be, to go to Millicent's he would have to admit that he was wrong about liking and respecting George so much. That was the reason she no longer spoke to him. That would be a fate worse than death, so instead he lifted the table and threw it over.
Mary, on the other hand (who had been listening in the doorway) felt it was her right to defend her family. The woman was truly as horrible as the dragon in Grandpa Joe's story. She had heard her mother-in-law say revolting things about her, her husband and her children. As that sorry excuse for a family member, her own mother-in-law, called Mary a "wanting whore who not only deserved it, but asked to get raped" (looking her straight in the eye as she did) the anger grew inside of Mary to a level that could not be contained. Mary strode forward, raised her hand and clutched her fist tightly, bringing it down with great force to Mrs. Frederick Darling's jaw.
Grandma Josephine fell on the floor and began to scream for aid. "George, my baby boy! Help your poor mother! You wife's insane and she is trying to kill me! Help me! George, you were always my favorite! God sent me to protect you, and I was always here to protect you! Save me son! Save me from the devil!"
George ran into the kitchen just in time to hold Mary back, as she was enraged and ready to strike again, this time holding a carving knife.
Grandpa Joe laughed, "See, Josephine, enrage the queen and face the guillotine."
George clutched his wife, whispering in her ear, "Mary, please, remember your expectant condition. I will make her leave, just please calm yourself." When she had calmed, he released her and she went to their room to wake and dress the children. George assisted his mother to the sofa and sent word to the bank that he would not be in that day.
Grandpa Joe cleaned the mess in the kitchen, and when the children came downstairs everything was as it should be.
Of all of George's brothers, the only one he could find still in London was Peter, the first son. Even though he was the oldest, at least fifteen years George's senior, he was a something of a child at heart, though he tended to at times to be very selfish and sneaky. He was the only one who broke his word to his parents and kept in touch with his little brother, even if only on Christmas and Easter. He knew about Wendy and John, but was unaware of the baby on the way.
"Good man, keeping the wife barefoot and pregnant," he said, as he patted George on the back hard enough to knock him over, when he arrived and saw Mary at the door.
Mary broke down that day and retrieved her maternity clothes from the attic and was now in a loose fitting house dress with enough room for her inflated belly. Peter knelt down in front of Mary, and gently rested his head to her stomach. A swift kick, warning not to disturb the baby comfortably resting within, made the eldest Darling son joke, "This one will be trouble, George. You mark my words!" George chuckled, his wife Mary only managing a small grin.
Peter knew of the children, but had never met them. Being just a child at heart himself, he rolled on the floor and played with them till they laughed so hard they cried.
After a quiet supper, the children were sent to bed. George and his brother sat in the parlor to discuss their mother.
"She's driving Mary mad. I'm afraid she will go insane if Mother stays here," George began.
Peter did not want his mother living with him, either, so together they argued for over an hour about who was to be stuck with her. "She's lived here with you since father died," Peter said defiantly. "This is where she wants to be, George, with you. Our other brothers offered to take her in, but she was just insistent that you were the one she wanted to live with. You have always been her baby boy and her favorite. This is her home, George; you can't take our mother from her home. In addition, I'm back and forth from Paris all the time, she will be alone if she moves in with me, and over here everyday anyway. You should just lock her in her room if she gets to be too much trouble. Or better yet, call one of our other brothers to take her, why does it have to be me?" Peter was taller than George by inches, and his voice was loud and imposing.
George's voice was more reserved, and he stuttered when he was nervous, especially when in the company of his oldest brother. Whenever George would fight with his brothers when he was a child they would gang up on him and beat him up till he wet his pants and cried. He'd do whatever they told him and they always took away anything that brought him even the mildest happiness.
At first, Peter felt George was still that little boy, and could be bullied and intimidated, so he commanded that his mother stay with George and his family, and there was "not to be another word about it!"
"Like I said already, George," Peter stood to show his height above his brother, "Mother is staying here with you. Do you understand, George? I am not to be bothered with this nonsense again. Mother stays here and you take care of her because that is what she wants. I'm sure she's just jealous of your lovely wife, you know she never liked to share you with any other woman."
Mary listened from the kitchen as well as Grandpa Joe. When she was sure George was about to agree and send his brother on his way, she rose from her chair, but was caught by her father and made to wait. "Listen to your husband, Mary, he is about to tell his brother he is the king of his castle," her father whispered. So Mary listened.
"You are wrong, Peter, for you will take mother with you." George's voice was strong, and he stood tall, facing his brother. "She is not staying in my house another day. I will give you until tomorrow morning to come fetch her; otherwise I will send her in a cab to your home by noon. I have taken care of her long enough, and now it is your turn. I would advise that YOU call your two other brothers and make arrangements for her to stay with them, as well. None of you have marriages she can ruin. Since I'm her favorite, when she dies I will chip in for the funeral, and nothing else." George then walked his brother out the door with one more sentiment: "Oh, and Peter, once she is gone, which will be tomorrow, she is not welcome back in my house. Do not send her by here to visit, for this door will be closed to her. She has insulted my wife, my innocent children, and me, and I do not want to ever see or hear from her again. Be here first thing in the morning. Good night."
Peter never got a chance to answer, for George slammed the door in his face. Defeated and stuck with the dragon, Peter walked away from George's castle. George went to the kitchen and smiled at his wife and father-in-law. Mary gave her husband the most amorously intimidating look he had ever seen in his life, which caught him off guard. Still standing, Mary took George by the arm and led him upstairs. "Stay in my room tonight. You do not want to waken the children while giving the king his reward, Queen Mary," Grandpa Joe called after them. And so they did.
In the morning, George still had his smile, and so did Mary. Grandma Josephine had still not packed when Peter came to claim her, so Mary did it for her. As Mary folded her clothes back into her suitcase and gently wrapped her delicate items in a box, Grandma Josephine pleaded with her, "Please Mary, do not let George send me from his house. Peter is ... you just don't understand, Mary, without me to defend George ... Mary, you know what Peter is capable of ... please help me help you...Peter is the devil..."
Now it was Mary's turn to be silent, she only offered as she left Mrs. Darling alone in tears, "Priest, Josephine? And you called me a liar? Anyway, I thought I was the devil in the flesh..."
Wendy and John played with Uncle Peter well into the afternoon, as he did not want to leave with the extra baggage. He finally did, dragging his mother nearly kicking and screaming from the house as she called out for rescue to her favorite son, "Please, George, I will be better, please don't make me go with Peter, he is the Devil."
George and Mary paid her absolutely no mind and banished the dragon from the castle forever with the simple act of closing the front door. Wendy watched, full of wonder, as Peter and Grandma Josephine left. Peter was no pirate captain, but on that afternoon, in her mind, he was the knight that saved the day. Mary kissed him on the cheek as his reward for removing the worst burden. But, she did not leave with him on the horse like Wendy wanted. Instead, she stayed with the cowardly king -- the one too afraid to slay the monster himself.
"Son, your mother said you were to be a priest? I had no idea," Grandpa Joe asked while George and Mary gazed out the front window, watching Mrs. Josephine Darling smack, punch and kick Peter who was attempting to load her into the waiting carriage.
George and Mary turned around to face him, George rolling his eyes, "Goodness, she still goes on about that?" George didn't feel it necessary to go into any details of his mother's crazy ranting of him becoming the pope. Just the same, seeing all eyes in the room on him as he sat on the sofa, he answered. "I was very ill as an infant, apparently it was so bad and my mother was so sure I was to die from it. She prayed and prayed, and I was saved. She told me when I was a young man I should become a priest to thank God for sparing me my life as a boy."
Mary rested her hand on George's shoulder giving a mild "and?"
George looked up to her and then to her father and shrugged his shoulders, "I never held the slightest interest in being a man of the cloth. Those who have the vocation say they are called to it, I have always felt I was called elsewhere." He finished his sentiment by lovingly rubbing his wife's tummy with his next child to be, growing inside. Instead of a swift kick of warning, George felt the baby move about, it seemed in an attempt just to be nearer to his hand.
That day, Grandpa Joe moved from his room into the guest room, and soon Mary and George created a grand nursery for the children. Finally having their own nursery, the children retreated there often to play. In June, another baby joined them.
Just as Wendy's labor was difficult, so was Michael's. Mary's water broke as she was putting the children to bed in their new room and George carried her to their bed and sent for the midwife. It was simple enough at first, the same pains she had for Wendy and John, but then something changed. "She's not opening as she should," the midwife told George. Mary had spent the night, morning and entire afternoon in hard labor. George and Grandpa Joe both knew that was bad, but not why. Two long days later, it was discovered Michael was also breech and wanted to come out bottom first. He gave Mary an awful time, not wanting to be born. The midwife pushed hard on Mary's belly to turn him around and every time she was convinced Mary should try to expel him, he would move back to his incorrect position in her body.
Four days after her pains began George stayed home from work and listened balled up on the floor outside the bedroom weeping, as Mary cried out in agony and begged God to forgive her sins and accept her into heaven. "It's going to be a dry birth, and that's bad enough. It's not safe for either one of them now, I'm surprised she's still alive, and I can't say about the baby now either, better call the priest," the midwife explained as she sent Grandpa Joe for the next-door neighbor to help.
The misery increased again and then more, when Grandpa Joe did call for the priest who gave Mary her last rites. "Just please take the baby out of me, save the baby, cut the baby out of me, I can't stand it, take the baby out of me before its too late, slice me open and take the baby, save the baby..." she begged everyone, the midwife, the next-door neighbor, the priest, George and her father. "George, kill me...take the pain away." Grandpa Joe took the other children out of the house so they could not hear her.
Finally at dusk, five whole days after it began, the vigilant midwife, who had not left Mary to sleep or eat, lost all her patience and stuck her hand up inside Mary and yanked the rather large baby boy out by the feet. He was blue and not breathing and Mary was ashen as blood poured from her, silent and still as death.
The midwife had enough sense to ring for the doctor and he was immediately there to tend the newborn. Soon, Michael was wailing for his mommy, not wanting to be separated from her. The midwife worked on Mary and stitched her tearing, with the doctor looking on offering his professional advice. He then took over and had the midwife assist him, when they saw the damage to Mary was far worse than suspected. Mary had passed out from the shock of having her baby wrenched from her body, and still had not awoken.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Darling, but your wife will never have another baby," the midwife told him when he returned from next-door, checking on the children. The neighbor had been relieved of her duties when she attempted to do what Mary had asked – cut the baby out. "Her insides are just as damaged as her outsides, and she'll be lucky if her monthlies even return. And that, mind you sir, is if she lives."
George went to her, touching her forehead to waken her, but she did not stir. Unlike the Sleeping Beauty she had appeared to be after having Wendy and John, she now appeared more like she was Snow White, dead in her coffin. "Best let me keep on with this, Mr. Darling, as it could take awhile," the doctor muttered between her legs, intent on repairing what was left of her womanhood.
There was a mess of bloody sheets and blankets with the birth of their first two children; now, with Michael, it was something out of a horror novel. The midwife brought George sheets dripping with Mary's blood, and asked for more rags to clean up with. "The doctor is still with her working on her." After only a few minutes she returned with those he had just given her, equally saturated and dropped them into the washtub. The doctor followed her in, and washed his hands covered in bodily fluids and raw tissue from the most intimate parts of Mary George had never seen. "If she keeps bleeding, Mr. Darling, you will have to take her to the hospital. There is only so much I can do without the proper instruments and operating room." At midnight, with the children tucked in and the newborn fast asleep, in the care of Grandpa Joe, George carried Mary to the cab waiting outside, and took her away.
The children awoke to a new baby and Grandpa Joe's pancakes, with sweet sugary syrup and extra butter. They took no notice of their father missing, as it was a weekday or their mother, figuring she was lying in after her hard work of creating a new baby. George arrived as they ate and Grandpa Joe met him in the hall outside of the kitchen. He had been crying and his eyes were puffy, his face pale. He whispered to Grandpa Joe who said nothing and only patted George on the back, which turned into an embrace before he headed up the stairs. George retrieved Mary's carpetbag and was out the door in a dash, without saying anything to the children.
"When will mommy have another baby?" Wendy asked.
"Mommy won't be having any more babies, Wendy, not ever," Grandpa Joe responded, touching her happy face.
"Why would she not?" John managed, with his mouth full. He was two years old and already able to form complete sentences, just as George had when he was that age.
"Because God said mommy and daddy can't have anymore. And we are not to question the word of God on such matters."
Mary did not return home that night, or the next, or any day in the near future. On Sunday, Grandpa Joe took the children to church without their mother or father. George returned some nights, fed the children their supper, bathed them and put them to bed. Other nights, he arrived home after they were put to sleep by Grandpa Joe. But every night, Wendy listened by the door of the nursery as he came up the stairs when he was done doing whatever cowardly kings do, and wept in his room. She cried for her mother too. "I want my mommy," she would yell at George when he would attempt to hug her and offer her comfort. Words hurt, especially when she stomped her feet and shouted, "I hate you! You took away Mommy!"
Six weeks after Michael was born, on a Sunday after church the children waited, dressed in their finest. Grandpa Joe had told them to pray for Mommy and maybe if they were good, quiet, and listened to the priest give his sermon, God would send Mommy home. Later, Wendy and John sat on the sofa and Michael cooed in the bassinet when the door to the Darling house opened. George helped his wife in, and took off her coat. The children darted to her and embraced her tightly around her waist. She was still in pain, but she hugged and kissed them both before Uncle Peter lifted her and carried her up the stairs. Wendy watched the knight who saved the day return and whisk the pretty Queen off her feet and to her happily ever after. Unseen by Wendy, George had carried Mary all the way home from the hospital. It was Sunday, and impossible to find a cab on the Lord's Day of rest.
"She wants to see the baby George, she missed him so," Peter said to George in the company of his family and friends who had also gathered to welcome Mary home, as he descended the stairs, "and she wants to say thank you to everyone for stopping by, she just doesn't feel well enough to receive visitors yet." With the guests of the house out of earshot, Peter whispered to his youngest brother, "Does Mary even know she had the baby?"
The weak king slowly climbed the stairs to their room with Michael in his arms, stopping halfway up to take rest. Later in the afternoon, before supper, Wendy sneaked up to peek in on her mother. Mary was sleeping with Michael in her arms, and her father dozed on the chair alongside them. (Not only was the king cowardly and weak, but he was lazy too.)
George was exhausted. For weeks he had risen early in the morning to visit the hospital and check in on Mary, who had required surgery to stop the internal bleeding. Then it was off to a full day of work. After work, he would go back to hospital and stay with Mary for a few precious moments before dashing home to fix supper for the children, give them their baths, and then putting them into bed. He would then return to Mary at the hospital until the nurse told him to leave. He would walk all the way home, sleep in his clothes and start the whole process over in the morning. Grandpa Joe told him every Saturday to rest in bed, but he would not hear of it. He would awaken just as early and run all the errands before the children got up. He went to the grocer, the baker, the laundry, the butcher, and post office. He stopped off at home to drop off his purchases and then spent the rest of the day in the hospital reading to Mary as she rested.
There was much work to be done around the house in Mary's absence. Grandpa Joe tried his best, but housework to him was tedious and very tiring, especially for a man who never had to clean anything in his life. George did the best he could alone, and still the sink was full of dishes, and only George had any clean clothes. He took his laundry to the shop at the corner just so he had something to wear to the bank. Uncle Peter stopped by to help do the dishes, and paid the laundry to wash everyone's clothes, paying double because it was Sunday. He along with the neighbors also swept and mopped and dusted. With all that arranged and completed, Uncle Peter still had time to play a game with the children. He had all the time in the world to play house, for he was retired and wealthy with no one at home but his mother. He was only too happy to stay away from her.
At only four years old, Wendy already had the makings of a wonderful storyteller of adventure and romance. She cast her father as the cowardly king, her mother as the beautiful Queen, Uncle Peter as the brave Knight, Grandma Josephine as the dragon. Grandpa Joe always told stories of pirates, so to her; Grandpa was the pirate captain's first mate. The only face she couldn't find among all of the grown ups she knew was the face of the pirate captain. She had already given him a name, though; she called him Captain Hook, for in her fairy tale, the knight named Peter cut off his hand with his valiant sword defending the castle and fed it to a nasty dragon. It was a lesson to the pirate captain to stay away from the beautiful queen who slept under a magic spell that could only be broken with a kiss. The cowardly king tried to claim the kiss and failed, for he was weak and lazy. The pirate captain was sure that it he that should awaken the fair maiden. And once he did, he threatened all in the kingdom that she would sail away with him and live happily ever after.