Scarlett had always pursued her goals with a single-mindedness rivaled by few, if any. But like a child, her imagination didn't extend beyond the attainment of what she wanted. Even her fantasies with Ashley had often ended at eloping with him to some far away place away from prying eyes and jealous rivals. There would be sons and daughters, all black of hair of course, but if the stars were aligned just right, there would be a blond boy or two, with her snapping green eyes and his drowsy dreaminess. With regards to Rhett, even as the months turned into years, she had continued to nurse hopes of a reunion, but more out of force of habit than out of any real hope of ever seeing him again…and so she found herself completely at a loss when what she wanted had seemingly landed at her doorstep.

Wade and Ella had taken to Rhett's sudden reappearance surprisingly well. They had come out of their bedrooms the following morning and Scarlett could infer from Ella's bleary eyes, the frazzled hair, weaving steps, and the slight but noticeable wincing every time the dog barked or a door slammed shut that there had in fact been champagne served at that party. Rhett and Scarlett stood at the bottom of the staircase and at the sight of him, Ella's eyes had widened, her freckles standing out sharply against the white face, but after a few moments, she managed to rearrange her flabbergasted expression into a shy smile and gave a small curtsey and had immediately flushed at her error and had promptly excused herself. But Wade had merely grimaced, his lips pressed into a tight line. After giving Scarlett a long, searching look, he had descended the staircase with a stiff formal greeting, extending his arm out to Rhett for a handshake.

Supper was a rather awkward affair. Rhett was the only one who seemed not to notice Ella's fidgeting and guileless attempts at conversation that fell flat; after her third attempt that revolved around some mix-up with a dress she had ordered, Scarlett had half a mind to send her to bed. Wade's eyes were glued to his plate and he gave monosyllabic responses whenever Ella tried to draw him into discussion. For once, Ella was dressed simply: attired in a spotless white dress and matching slippers, her hair fell in loose waves down to the tiny waist. With her small white hands folded demurely across her lap and without her usual devilish grin, she was the very picture of modesty…that is, if it weren't for the solid gold choker tightly clasped round her neck. In its center was affixed one great glistening ruby.

Scarlett, who had long done away with the customary glass of wine she used to take with meals, now poured a liberal amount into her glass.

"How is your sister?"

"I'm surprised you even remember that I have a sister."

"I have ears, you know. And I did listen to at least some of what you had said."

"I was always under the impression that most of what I said to you went in one ear and out the other, especially if it was the truth."

"Oh! You-"

He reached across the table and when his hand closed over hers, she spasmed at the touch. Looking into his eyes, she thought she could see something akin to that old amusement she had so dearly missed.

"My dear, won't you ever allow anyone to tease you?"

Her heart quickened. Perhaps-

"And how is the honorable Ashley Wilkes?"

Ella's fork hovered in midair with her mouth locked open. Wade had carefully set his fork down, raising his eyes cautiously.

Scarlett closed her eyes. Oh, for the love of-

"I-I need to use the restroom, mother," Ella stammered, with a nervous glance at Rhett. She didn't bother to pick up the napkin she had dropped. Pushing her chair back, she darted from the room.

Wade didn't move but his eyes traveled from Rhett to Scarlett and he opened his mouth, but before he could get a word out, she locked eyes with him, shaking her head infinitesimally, and with a wave of her hand, Wade nodded and silently padded from the room.

Rhett watched Wade leave with a pensive look. Scarlett could see that a line had appeared at the corner of his mouth.

He sighed, rubbing his chin.

"How much do they know?"

Now it was Scarlett's turn to grimace. "Everything, more or less. I think they've always known. How could they not? I didn't tell them anything, but I didn't need to. There had always been whispers…Melanie had always kept them at bay, but after Melanie died and you l-…when Melanie went, they became more than just whispers. Whatever they didn't already know, folks in town and even the children at school were only too happy to fill in the gaps. I suppose that's why Wade turned to those books…it was also one of the reasons I sent him away to school. Ella…she's such a happy, sweet little thing…for the longest time she didn't understand half of what was being said, but Wade always did."

You were right, Rhett. Children are cruel creatures. You may not have cared much about our divorce but Atlanta certainly did…or perhaps they only cared because I was the mother.

"And as for how Ashley is doing…the man has someone earning his keep and cleaning up all of his messes. How can he not be doing well?" she muttered, cutting into her steak with a vehemence that sent a fine spray of juice across the tablecloth.

"At least Beau has some gumption. It looks like he wants to go North for university. I'm not sure if Melly would have liked that and India, of course, doesn't think much of the idea. But, oddly enough, Henry actually wants him to go, though God knows why."

"It will do him a lot of good, seeing a world that isn't just what remains of the Old South."

Scarlett shrugged. I suppose it would have done all of us a lot of good if we had paid a visit up North, wouldn't it? I'm sure Beatrice would agree now, even if she didn't before.

"Wade and Ella have grown."

At that, Scarlett couldn't help but glare at him. Yes. Children tend to do that. It's a pity you didn't find it in you to stick around.

"Wade's become a fine young man, hasn't he?"

Scarlett's eyes softened then and she smiled fondly.

"Oh Wade. He's at the top of his class, as he always has been. He devours any book he can get his hands on and can understand things that even Ash-, that even the oldest at his university are puzzled by, but the boy doesn't seem to know that women exist. At every outing, he lectures each girl half to death. There was this one girl…she tried her best to soldier through but had to retire when he kept going on about Andrew Johnson's imp-impeachment. Poor thing, she must have given up all hope then. I almost wanted to help her…"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. On the contrary, I think Wade knows exactly what he is doing."

"What do you mean?"

"Can't you see he's developed a rather efficient way of ridding himself of unwanted wooers?

Scarlett stared, her steak forgotten.

"I-I've never thought of it that way."

"…well, he's always been such a good boy; I don't know where he came from. I wonder now…if things would be different if Charles had lived."

He met her gaze. "I never thought I would live to see the day where I would hear you reminiscing about the past, let alone about a husband you hardly even remember."

"I've had time to think things over," she replied tartly and then sighed, "fool that he was, he likely would have gotten himself killed with Frank that night."

"And Ella…she looks a lot like you now."

Scarlett snorted. "Is it the red hair? Or the freckles?"

He chuckled. "I had nearly forgotten how literal you always were."

Leaning back into his chair, he surveyed the garish red wallpaper, the gleaming silverware, and the massive display cabinet loaded with the finest hand-carved china and crystal figurines, "Have you ever thought about refurnishing the house?"

Scarlett raised an eyebrow. "Whatever for? There's enough clutter in the house as is. At this point, the only thing I would change is those curtains; it's happened more than once that the dog did his business on them and they block out all the light. I sometimes can't tell whether it's day or night because of those blasted things and you can't imagine the amount of dust…if only you've been around to see Ella's sneezing fits..."

Her voice trailed off again at the sight of his face. There it was again: one of those strange half-smiles. Suddenly she wanted to ask him something, something that she had been wondering for so long and thought that she would never have a chance to ask, but the loud, reverberating gong of the grandfather clock jolted her from her thoughts and whatever courage she had managed to muster to ask it evaporated.

He glanced at the clock. "It's late."

After wiping her mouth on her napkin, Scarlett tossed it onto the table. "I suppose it is."

Departing from the dining room, they made their way to the staircase in silence.

Scarlett's tolerance for spirits had declined significantly given her years of temperance and the three glasses she had sent the world spinning. Stifling a hiccup, she gathered her skirts in one hand and began to make her way up. As she reached the landing, she stumbled over the hem of her dress but before she could grab onto the newel post, he had her by the upper arms, gripping them so tightly that she winced.

She looked up, but couldn't see his face in the dim lighting.

"I'm alright, Rhett. Really."

"Of course," he replied softly, but he still had her in that vice-like grip. She could feel her arms going numb. When she went lay a hand on his, he immediately let her go and stepped back. For a few moments, there was nothing but silence. Rubbing her arms, Scarlett sighed inwardly. Some things never change, do they? She turned then.

"Good night, Rhett."

He watched her until he heard the door shut then he turned to head back downstairs.

"Good night, Scarlett."