Chapter 17: The Desperate Day
Scarlett looked dazed as she walked slowly into the breakfast room the morning of September 1st. Rhett looked over the top of his paper and watched as his wife held onto the doorway and leaned her head against the cool wood frame. She didn't open her eyes to look at him before she said in a soft voice, "Melly's having pains."
She stood leaning against the doorframe for a moment to collect her strength, then walked over to the table and poured herself a cup of hominy. She took a large gulp, but the heavy mixture of parched corn and ground-up yams that passed for coffee stuck in her throat like glue. She grew angry suddenly as her heart pounded with fright. The low rumbling in the direction of Jonesboro frightened her, and Melly's baby had to choose this day to come? Scarlett let out an angry scream and hurled the coffee cup at the wall.
Rhett did not flinch, he only chuckled.
Scarlett whipped around quickly and glared at him, "Don't you dare, Rhett Butler! The world is falling apart around us, and all you can do is laugh!" she yelled, finally having found a direction for her frustration.
"I'd hardly blame the end of the world on a little bad coffee," he said, picking up his own cup and looking at the thick liquid.
She could only stare at him for a moment, trying to digest his inane comment, "There's cannon fire coming from the south, coming from Tara!" she exclaimed loudly. "I could have gone home when everyone else refugeed, only I have to stay here because of a stupid baby! I want to go home! To Tara! I want my mother!" she sobbed.
Suddenly she was in his arms, her wet cheek against the starched ruffle of his shirt. His hands caressed her tumbled hair gently, soothingly, and his voice was gentle too. So gentle, so quiet, so devoid of mockery, it did not seem Rhett Butler's voice at all but the voice of some kind strong stranger who smelled of brandy and tobacco and horses, comforting smells because they reminded her of Gerald. "There, there, darling," he said softly. "Don't cry."
She felt something brush her hair and wondered vaguely through her tumult if it were his lips. He was so tender, so infinitely soothing, she longed to stay in his arms forever. With such strong arms about her, surely nothing could harm her.
He fumbled in his pocket and produced a handkerchief and wiped her eyes. "Now, blow your nose like a good child," he ordered, a glint of a smile in his eyes, "and tell me what to do."
She blew her nose obediently, still trembling, but she could not think what to tell him to do. Seeing how her lip quivered and her eyes looked up at him helplessly, he took command.
"Mrs. Wilkes is about to have her child? We'll send for Mrs. Meade."
Scarlett nodded her head, grateful for his grounding presence. She took a breath and reluctantly stepped out of his arms and went in search of Prissy. After she had dispatched the girl to find someone who would know what to do she forced herself to ascend the stairs and sit with Melanie.
For over an hour she sat beside her sister-in-law watching as the tiny woman convulsed in pain and bit her lip until it bled rather than cry out. She tried to talk of inconsequential things, but the thoughts of Tara and a possible defeat by the Yankees prodded cruelly. She thought of Ellen dying and of the Yankees coming into Atlanta, burning everything, killing everybody. Through it all, the dull far-off thundering persisted, rolling into her ears in waves of fear. Finally, she could not talk at all and only stared out of the window at the hot still street and the dusty leaves hanging motionless on the trees. Melanie was silent too, but at intervals her quiet face was wrenched with pain.
As Scarlett sat in the terrible heat of the early afternoon sun she wished Rhett would take her away to all the places he had promised. She would be sipping champagne in Mexico right now if it weren't for Melanie and her stupid baby. He would give her anything she wanted, but instead of enjoying the finest things in life she was sitting in the middle of an approaching army.
Finally, a gentle knock came at the door and Scarlett raced to open it. Seeing Rhett's face when she opened the door and she stepped out into the hallway shutting the door behind her.
"Mrs. Mead's gone. Her son Phil was shot and she's gone to collect him. I sent Prissy to Mrs. Merriwether's and even Mrs. Elsing's, but their houses are all boarded up. There's no one to come." He told her quietly.
Scarlett's eyes grew wide, and the pounding of her heart was so deafening in her ears that she could hardly hear her own words, "No one? But Rhett, I don't know what to do. I don't know how babies come. She's having such a difficult time… I can't imagine she'll make it through. She's so weak."
Rhett's face set and his jaw clenched tightly, "You're going to have to manage on your own. When you think the time is right, I'll go find Dr. Mead myself. Until then, you'll just have to sit with her and try to keep her comfortable."
Scarlett nodded dumbly, unsure of anything but thankful for Rhett's certainty.
"I'm going to go down to the headquarters and find out how much time before the Yankees come visiting."
"Oh, Rhett!" Scarlett exclaimed, frustrated tears forming in her eyes, "I'm so scared."
He pulled her into his arms and comforted her for the second time that day. She laid her head on his chest and felt grateful for his fortifying presence, unsure of what she would do if he were not there to support her. She felt safe for the first time since she had awoken that morning, and collecting herself, she finally felt able to go back into Melanie's room.
It was amazing how Rhett could bring such stability to her life with just one touch, but she grabbed it like a lifeline, and they stood in the hallway for several moments before they heard Melanie calling faintly for Scarlett.
An hour went by, and then another. Noon came and the sun was high and hot and not a breath of air stirred the dusty leaves. Melanie's pains were harder now. Her long hair was drenched in sweat and her gown stuck in wet spots to her body. Scarlett sponged her face in silence, but fear was gnawing at her. When she could no longer bare the waiting she sent Rhett for the doctor.
Scarlett was sure there would never again be an afternoon as long or as hot. Or as full of lazy insolent flies. They swarmed on Melanie despite the fan Scarlett kept in constant motion. Her arms ached from swinging the wide palmetto leaf. All her efforts seemed futile, for while she brushed them from Melanie's moist face, they crawled on her clammy feet and legs and made her jerk them weakly and cry: "Please! On my feet!"
At first, when the panes came Melanie had tried to keep from crying out, biting her lips until they were raw, and Scarlett, whose nerves were as raw as the lips, said huskily: "Melly, for God's sake, don't try to be brave. Yell if you want to. There's nobody to hear you but me."
It seemed like ages, but Scarlett was relieved beyond measure when she heard the door open downstairs. She ran to the door to greet the doctor, but was startled to find only Rhett staring back at her.
"Is the doctor on his way?" she asked in a rush, holding out hope.
Rhett opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it. Instead, he held up a small burlap sack, "I brought you coffee." He said, offering her the bag. "They threw open the doors of the commissary warehouses so the Yankees wouldn't get their hands on the supplies that were left. You seemed in desperate need of coffee this morning and never let it be said that I don't provide for my wife."
"If you make any jokes, I shall never speak to you again," she said with a quivering voice.
"Don't tell me you are frightened!" He pretended to be surprised and smiled in a way that made her long to push him back out the front door.
"Yes, I am! I'm frightened to death and if you had the sense God gave a goat, you'd be frightened too. The Yankees will be here any minute and Melly's about to die! I can't bare it! I just can't! What will I tell Ashley? I promised him I'd take care of her." She threw herself into his arms desperate for the comfort she'd found there in her most difficult times that day.
"Darling, there is one other person I can bring," he said in a very hesitant voice.
She looked up at him with desperate hope, "Well, who is it? Go get them!"
"Belle."
"That Watling creature? You'd bring her into our house? Let her touch Melanie? How dare you even suggest – at such a time -" she tried to pull away and wrench herself out of his arms, but they were wrapped tightly around her and his strength was immovable. "I hate you Rhett Butler!"
He shook her, "Shush, will you? Hold still! Listen to me! She runs a whore house. Don't you think she knows a thing or two about delivering babies? Are you willing to let Miss Melly die because you're too stubborn?" he said in a stern voice reprimanding her stupidity.
Her eyes darted wildly, studying his face, and she pinched her lips together. She couldn't go back into that room and watch helplessly as Melanie withered in pain. If someone didn't come to help - someone who knew what they were doing- she would surely die. Scarlett drew up her chin and squared her shoulders determinedly, "Go get her."
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Scarlett had never been so terrified in her life as when Melanie quietly whispered, "Scarlett….darling." she paused for a moment trying to gather enough strength to simply produce the words. "Will you…take my baby? If I should die? And if Ashley is…"
Scarlett turned away from the window where she'd been watching for Rhett, "Don't be a ninny, Melly. You're going to be fine."
Melly closed her eyes and weakly said, "You're so sweet - you'll be a wonderful mother, and Captain Butler…my baby will never want for anything." Melanie tried to reach out her hand to her sister-in-law, but it fell weakly beside her.
At that moment, more than anything in the world, she yearned to see Rhett's careless, self-confident eyes laughing at her fears. Rhett would take care of her. He always did, and he'd promised he always would. Then, as if in answer to her prayers, the sight of Rhett Butler striding down the street calmed and dispelled her fears. What would she have done without him that morning when she had been tearing about like a chicken with its head off? She loved him. Because he was strong and smart, and he wasn't afraid of the Yankees.
She saw Rhett's face first, but it was hard to ignore the bright head of the woman he dragged behind him. She was having a difficult time keeping up with his quick pace.
"Oh Melly! The midwife is here!" she exclaimed, unable to admit to the Lady just who was going to deliver her baby.
The flood of relief was obvious on Melly's face. Scarlett saw her husband open the gate below, and as soon as she heard them enter the house, she rushed out the bedroom door.
"Oh, thank God you're back Rhett!" She said as she flew down the stairway. Scarlett looked at the Watling woman standing just inside the doorway - in her home! - grasping onto her husband's arm. Scarlett took a startled step backward, "Rhett! She's drunk!"
"You know, I'm standing right here, Mrs. Butler – there's no need to talk through Rhett."
Scarlett bristled at the whore using her husband's Christian name, "Are you going to be able to deliver a baby in your – condition?" she asked scandalized.
Belle rolled her eyes, "You! Get in there," she said, forcing a satchel into Scarlett's arms. "Rhett, put plenty of water on t'boil and keep it a'comin'. I'll need lots'a towels too an' whisky 'er rum – whatever's the strongest stuff you got."
"You're going to drink? Now?!" Scarlett exclaimed, horrified.
Belle turned to her and looked at the girl like she was an imbecile, "It's for Mrs. O'Hara. Did it ever occur t'ya to give 'er somethin' to ease 'er pain?" Belle asked condescendingly before beginning up the stairs to Melanie's room.
Scarlett turned to Rhett, "Well, I see why the two of you get along so well," she bit off before turning her back on the sound of her husband's laughter.
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While Prissy was upstairs giving the baby its first bath, Scarlett found herself in the unlikely position of sitting in her dining room across from Atlanta's most infamous whore, drinking a steaming cup of coffee.
After Belle had arrived, it seemed like no time at all before Scarlett was an aunt. She didn't think the woman could be called "a God send" exactly, but she was grateful for her presence nonetheless. Belle had never looked scared, and her every move had been with certainty and precision. The woman had known exactly what to do throughout the entire ordeal; from forcing Rhett's strongest whisky down Melanie's throat to dull the pain to the forceps she'd pulled the baby out with and the opium pills that had blessedly knocked Melanie out after the ordeal was over.
"Thank you, Miss Watling," Scarlett said begrudgingly, mostly to her coffee.
Belle only laughed, leaning back in her chair in a way that annoyingly reminded Scarlett of Rhett. "The great Scarlett O'Hara lowering herself to thank little 'ol me?"
Scarlett pursed her lips, losing her gratitude as quickly as it had come, "If there had been anyone else you wouldn't be here," she said, slamming her mug down with a thud.
Belle sat up in her chair, losing all semblance of Rhett's cool, "Well, you're lucky it wasn't you up there twistin' in pain 'cause I wouldn't have come no matter what Rhett would'a said!"
"That's just fine! Because I would have sooner died than let you lay one of your tainted, sinful fingers upon me!" Scarlett yelled, standing from her chair abruptly.
Belle stood from her chair and leaned across the table so no bit of her insult would be missed, "Funny, Rhett's never had a problem with me layin' my hands on 'im."
In a moment that sharply exploded, Scarlett saw red at the mental image of her husband and that – that woman. She suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs. She wanted to claw her. Nothing but the sight of blood upon her painted face would ease this pain in her heart. She lunged for her, swift as a cat, but the expansive oak dining room table held her back. She wanted to rake her sharp nails across the whore's eyes and blot out that queer light in them.
Belle stood safely on the other side of the table laughing, thoroughly enjoying the sight of Scarlett falling to pieces so easily. Her laughter only infuriated Scarlett more, and she made a sudden move and bolted around the table. She was quickly stopped by a pair of strong, immovable arms that clenched around her waist. Rhett pulled her against his chest.
"Let me go! I'll kill her! Let me go!" she screamed as she kicked her legs, trying to wrench herself loose.
"Stop it! Scarlett! Stop it!" he shouted at her as he repositioned his arms to hold her still. "What the hell is going on here?" he demanded.
"She's a madwoman!" Belle said, trying to distance herself to the farthest corner of the room away from the couple.
Scarlett reluctantly stilled in Rhett's arms and glared at the woman, "I want her out of my house." When Belle did not make an immediate dash for the exit, Scarlett screamed shrilly, "Get out! Get out!" stomping her foot in a tantrum and screamed louder, "Get out!"
Finally comprehending Scarlett's demand, Belle picked up her midwife's satchel off the floor and scurried around the two out of the room. Opening the front door, she turned and flashed a self-assured smile, "I'll see you later, Rhett."
Scarlett let out another scream and lunged for the woman but was held in place by Rhett's arms still holding her.
Belle did not manage a laugh before she wisely rushed out the door.
"Would you like to tell me what the hell just happened?" Rhett thundered, turning her around forcefully to face him.
Scarlett's face was flushed, and her hair was a frazzled mess that caught the light around her head like a halo. She looked up into Rhett's face with such passion he felt his body tighten as he was suddenly reminded why he'd fallen in love with her in the first place.
"I never want to see that creature again," Scarlett said in a low, trembling voice.
"Well, I can't imagine that will be very difficult to manage. You two don't exactly run in the same social circles." When his jest did not earn him the slightest of smiles from Scarlett he asked, "Would you like to tell me what triggered the cat fight?"
"She said – she said disgusting things to me," Scarlett grumbled, jerking out of Rhett's arms and walking over to the table. She plopped herself down unceremoniously, and her shoulders sagged as she looked down at her hands in her lap. "What is she to you, Rhett?" Scarlett asked in a tiny, but sure voice.
He looked her over for a moment, uncharacteristically unsure of himself. He could lie to her and say Belle was just another girl in another bar, but despite her astounding ignorance of history, literature, and world events; Scarlett O'Hara Butler was not stupid. Rhett let out a long breath and took several steps closer to his wife. He leaned a hip against the table and tried to look aloof as he stood a few inches in front of her.
"I've known Belle for a very long time, Scarlett. She's a business partner and a friend."
Not looking up, Scarlett asked, "Is she – that is, have you-"
"Have I bedded her?" he provided in an unabashed voice.
Her head shot up at his crash remark, and she wanted to deny what she'd been trying to ask, but she couldn't bring herself to renounce it. The image was blazing a hole through her, and her stays felt tighter when she thought that her husband - whose touch made her lightheaded and burn at the same time - could do the same to that painted, dyed hussy.
"Didn't we have this discussion once before Scarlett?" he asked in a tired voice. "As I recall, it didn't have very pleasant results."
His words were like a knife in her chest. Surely the real thing couldn't be any more painful. She stood slowly from her seat, dazed and feeling more like 90 than 19. It had been a long day; that was the only explanation for her devastated emptiness, she thought when she couldn't muster the energy to scream, to break something, to shout and hit him. There was no anger because she only felt emptiness. That was the only word to describe the painful ache that had started in her chest and was spreading a cold, numb feeling all over her body, despite the sweltering heat in the air.
"Scarlett," Rhett said gently, taking hold of her arm to stop her sleepwalk. "I can't apologize for things I've done that are long since in the past. Yes, there were women before you. Scores of them. Faceless, nameless girls who I used for a night at a time-"
Scarlett's eyes met his suddenly with a splintering green fire in them.
"But I can promise you; there will never be another woman, and yours is the only face I want to see in my bed, and you, my dear," he took hold of her left hand and brought it up to his lips, "are the only girl with myname." he said placing a soft kiss on her wedding ring.
She knew for certain that the day had been trying because certainly, there couldn't be tears in Scarlett O'Hara Butler's eyes. She smiled weakly for a moment, then pursed her lips together, "Rhett….have you – I mean since we…."
He enveloped her in his arms, and she leaned her cheek against his solid chest, unable to meet his gaze, should he break her heart completely.
"No."
The word was so simple but spoken so quickly and with such certainty that she had no need to ask any other questions. Rhett was hers, and if he hadn't been forever, at least he would be for the rest of forever. Besides, if he so much as touched another woman, Rhett Butler would be a dead man.