The air remained hot and sticky even after Walter had finished his business with Robert. Of course, while he was there, other things needed his attention, so it was late afternoon when Walter finally drove down the winding road to Dovedale.
There had been little rain that summer. That fact was painfully obvious the closer he got to the river and to where Dovedale sat, situated overlooking the river atop a high, wooded hillside. The fragrance of the cedar and the pine trees welcomed him, and he could almost imagine Tenny and Hope playing the front yard; Tenny pushing Hope in the swing that was tied to a limb of an old oak tree. He could hear their sweet laughter in his ears, and he could see her sitting on the porch that wrapped all around the house in her mother's wicker rocker, smiling down at her beloved angels.
His heart ached as a leaf falling from a thirsty tree fell on his head, waking him to his heartbreaking reality. The children were in another country, growing up without a mother. Their mother was far beyond anyone's reach.
It was almost too much for him, too much pain to have to bear. Yet he continued on into the house with its soft, wooden floors. Though the furniture was covered, things remained as he had left them, or rather, as she had left them.
The big fireplace still housed a plethora of pictures. Walter walked along it slowly, taking each in on its own. There was a picture of young Katie and Albert; playing out on that very swing, he imagined Tenny and Hope. There was one of Albert in his British Army uniform. In the middle sat a picture of Mr. and Mrs. Darcy on their fifteenth wedding anniversary when they renewed their vows. To its left was a picture of a young man with dreamy eyes and silky black hair, all dressed up next to a golden angel clad in white. It was his wedding picture. Of course, Katie looked everything a bride should look, but to Walter, she was so much more. On the far left, there was a picture of a very happy, very healthy and young family of four.
Walter grabbed that picture and fell onto the sofa, never taking his eyes off the picture. Things were so wonderful then. Things were so simple. There were no conflicting feelings, no confusion from someone else, just a pair of eyes that sometimes appeared when Walter would look into the moonlight or at a tea rose.
Walter's own eyes were now clouded over, and tears began to rain down on the picture of the happy family. He put the picture back in its place, and walked upstairs.
One, two, three, four steps, and squeeeeek. That hadn't changed, causing Walter's tears to turn to laughter. He walked into the first bedroom. Wooden aeroplanes tethered across the ceiling. Sailboats were anchored here and there. A little ball, bat, and glove waited in the corner for a little boy.
He went into the second room. Babies were sitting to tea. Pictures of flowers decorated the walls. Teddy Bears still reigned supreme on the bed. He walked over to the window seat, and he noticed a picture book waiting for its owner, still open to the last page read.
He took a deep breath, knowing that the room he needed and yet dreaded to visit the most was next. He left the sunny, little room frilled in pink slowly, contemplating each step carefully. He walked to the door and stood there, almost scared to see what was behind. Then he did it. Very gradually, he turned the glass knob until the latch released.
When he had entered the house, he noticed a slight musty scent due to a lack of traffic. When entered this room though, there was a different scent; the smell of lavender still lingered after all that time. The moment the scent touched him with her soft fingers, Walter almost fell onto the floor, weeping. Yet he remained strong, knowing that more than just a scent was waiting for him.
He walked to the dresser and fingered a jewelry box, some more snap shots, and an old, brown, leather Bible. Her closet was right in front of him, and though it would hurt to look in there, he knew that it would hurt even more to not.
He opened the door to the closet, and the scent of lavender increased. All of her clothes save a couple outfits were there. He ran his hands along the sleeves, remembering how they had felt on her. He then walked to the bed and placed his hand on the pillow where her head used to lay.
He laid down where he used to sleep, and held her pillow close. He closed his eyes and allowed the memories to take control.
"Johnny! Come quick! I think that Tenny is about to try and take his first steps!" Her voice called into the bedroom where he had been changing out of his work clothes.
He quickly ran into the living room where Katie was sitting in the floor where Tenny was standing up, holding onto the sofa. He was smiling, gray eyes sparking like polished platinum, and edging his way into his Mama's waiting arms.
Tenny looked to his Daddy and almost decided to go to him instead, but Katie was determined to be the first person to whom he ran. "Come on, Tenny. Come to Mama. That's a good boy. Come on," she cheered as he gradually toddled his way to her.
As he walked to his mother, Tenny's steps became more and more wobbly, yet he made it all the way to her arms before collapsing into their loving safety. He let out yells and gurgles of joy as she smothered him with kisses, letting him know how proud she was. Hope was watching this show of adoration between mother and son, and furrowed her brow immensely. Even at only ten months of age, Hope didn't like to be outdone by her twin brother. She was ten minutes older anyway.
Her father couldn't help but take notice at his daughter's obvious jealousy over her brother getting so much attention. He walked over to his little fiery tot and scooped her up into his sturdy arms.
"What can be so bad that Daddy's little Prairie Princess has to make such an awful face?" he asked, kissing her downy soft forehead.
A daddy's love can always soothe the troubles soul, and Hope decided at that moment to reward her father with a milestone of her own. "Daa-ddy," the baby sweet voice said aloud.
"Did you hear that, Katie-girl? She said, Daddy! That was her first word, and it was Daddy!" he exclaimed, holding the girl close to him.
The baby girl knew she was being praised, so she repeated herself, over and over again, "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!"
Then Tenny decided to join in on the fun. "Daaa-diieee!" he cried out.
Katie picked him up, staring into his eyes as he chanted along with his sister, "Oh, no, not you too! One of you needs to say Mama. Can you say Mama, Tenny?" she asked the boy, and he had the sheer orneriness to shake his head, "no" and smile.
"Well, I never!" the exasperated mother declared in defeat. Her husband could only laugh from the utter joy of the moment.
Walter opened his eyes and studied the empty bedroom, releasing a disappointed sigh before closing them once again to escape reality.
He slowly stepped into the dining room, now empty of all the yuletide joy, and silently watched her as she stared out of the bay window into the river and the world of dreams. She was the picture of grace and beauty, he long, golden hair tied back in a festive red ribbon that matched her lovely dress. She had her forehead pressed against the icy pane, concealing her visage from all eyes. She was alone now, with all of her heart's weighty feelings.
He walked alongside her, listening to faint sniffles. He raised his arm to the window, leaning his head on it, and slowly, gradually, reached for her hand. There they stood, silently holding hands, each lost in the deep of their souls.
Finally, he said what was on his mind, "Please do not cry, Katie. I cannot bear to see you so. It breaks my heart. You are my everything. I should have nothing, no home, no name, no family, no one special to hold my heart. Yet you have given me all of that and so much more. There would be no life without you. I couldn't go on without you by my side."
"Oh Johnny. It isn't that I'm sad, you see. Yes, I miss Bertie greatly. It is hard to imagine that today is Christmas, and he is not here singing gaily and laughing with Father as they play chess along the fire. Yet it is Christmas, and he is sleeping somewhere cold in France. I suppose I should be sadder than I am, yet I cannot be. He gave his life for a cause in which he greatly believed. I believe that because of that, we must do as that poem you found says and "keep faith," and that it what I intend to do."
"So why are there tears in your eyes?" he asked wiping them from her cheek with his sweet, soft thumb.
"There are tears in my eyes," she couldn't continue for the tears grew heavier and were accompanied by mammoth sobs. "I have tears because I am so happy!" she declared, hugging him close to her. "You have made me so happy. I couldn't have gone on if not for your attention and care."
"I do care, Katie, ever so much."
"I know," she answered quietly. "I do too. I love you Johnny. I love you like I've never loved another."
"Katie, I love you too. I have permission from your father. I have a question to ask of you," he stated, slowly, shakily bowing down on one knee.
"Do you?" she implored, her green eyes brimming with love and hope.
He nodded and pulled a small diamond ring from his pocket. "Katie, I have no name to give you. I have no money of my own. All I have is my heart and every once of love that it produces. Would you please due me the immense honor of becoming my wife?"
Her joyful sobs grew bigger as she managed to choke out, "I will."
He placed the token of their love on her finger and softly, lovingly quelled her sobs with his lips.
Walter could no longer stand to relive these moments. The pain was getting to be too much. He walked outside, into the yard, and kept on walking along the vast property. The grass with brittle and brown from a summer of drought. He imagined that it would be there too. He stopped along the way, and picked a few wild roses that he knew weren't really wild at all.
The sound of the diminished river, crashing against the rocks told him he was almost there, and his heart grew very heavy. He was very amazed by what he saw when he got there.
The little white picket fence was washed, whiter than snow. The grass inside was lush and green as any in the Ingleside yards. Flowers adorned all four graves that rested underneath the grand magnolia tree.
He took off the gray fedora he was wearing and opened the little gate that he had fashioned so many years before and slowly walked around the little burial ground. He placed a few flowers on Abigail, George, and Albert's graves before stopping at Katie's. He knelt down beside it, wiped what little dust that covered the headstone away, and placed the remaining flowers there.
He stayed there a while, rubbing the cold, smooth granite with his palm, not noticing the shift of the wind, the roar of nearby thunder, or the dampness of the newly falling rain. He looked about at the beauty of the land, and was thankful he didn't sell an inch of it.
"Things look kind of dry this year, Katie, but magnificent still the same. I'm sorry that it's been so long since I've been here. I know they aren't excuses, but I feel that you're always with me, and it is just so difficult to come here and face the fact that you aren't." He started to sob, matching the sky, tear for tear.
"Oh Katie. You're too wonderful to let go. I cannot seem to do it. I know that I need to, but I want you here with me. I want to take you to Ingleside. I want to hear your laugh alongside my mother and sisters'. I want you to see our children grow up. I want so much, yet my wishes are like dust in the wind.
I feel that I have been unfaithful to you. I have had feelings for another. I have been punished for that though. She belongs to another, and I must sit alongside and watch it happen, keeping warm only by my memories of what it is to love and be in love. Rest assured, she is the woman with the haunting blue eyes, and I don't think that I left her heart too broken. She seems to have mended well if it did break at all.
Maybe someday, there will be another. I do not know. I was quite spoiled by you. Katie, help me to move on. I know our children need a mother's love, yet I haven't found anyone who could begin to fill your shoes. They do have plenty of love and support. That is not a worry, at least. I just know… I remember that children still need a mother."
He stopped a moment and as the thunder and lightning grew more intense, asked a question not to Katie, but to someone more powerful. "Why? Why am I being punished so? Help me to find my way again! Please heal your servant. Forgive me my sins. Help me to stop living in yesterdays and might-have-been's and jump into tomorrow!"
A bolt of lightning struck, and astrong, firm hand grabbed Walter's burdened shoulder. "Come now, my friend. It is time to go home."
What is going to happen now? To which "home" is Walter going? Is the end of his tortured exhistence? Am I incredibly cruel? Well, yes I am, but you must wait and see. Please read and review. I love all input.