Sneaky Scarlett moves: 2

Well, desperate times call for desperate measures, and I mean that on all fronts.

Christmas is nearing, and the best thing about Christmas (asides from receiving presents) is all the things you can do under the pretense of the Christmas spirit. I wonder if Rhett will stop by this Christmas, but he didn't last year... so, I assume his presence will be missed once again... As such, I have taken the liberty of writing to his sister and inviting her for the holidays in the-what do they call it? -the spirit of Christmas. or some bs like that.

Like General Sherman, I find discovering more about your enemy will serve advantageous. Can't help but evil smile. He can't get rid of me that easily.

The other day, I ran over to Ashley's to spruce it up, in case he and Hazel hit it off. I couldn't let her see this dump. I sent Prissy to live there for a week and get everything in order/force everyone to eat. I shuddered recalling the days I had to do that myself for Tara and the never-ending stream of soldiers. I ordered Prissy to wash all his clothes, and I ordered Ash to take a bath.

The one good thing is that he doesn't argue with what I say.

"Take a bath, Ash."

"Must I, Scarlett?"

"Yes." You need one. And please shave while you're at it.

"If you say so, my dear." That's right, biotch.

"I also say you need to eat, Ashley."

I glanced gingerly around the living room. To think I could've been mistress of this house. Another miscalculation on my part. I suppose that's one good thing with age: you see more things as they are.

I began unloading a basket of starch, carbs, and sweets. These ought to speed up the process.

"You are too good to me, Scarlett. Thank you." I found his words humorous. What did anyone see in me?

My back turned to him, I said, "Mellie would've wanted it." As I doled out Ensure-style-portions, I spied his figure out of the corner of my eye and evaluated the situation.

Analysis: He needs to gain weight and bulk up. fast.

Course of action: Force feeding. I should also force him to work outdoors to gain muscle tone, and therefore look more presentable. I couldn't imagine anyone flocking to Ashley in this state.

I wondered if somewhere, Rhett was taking care of himself. I supposed he was. He always does.

Before I left, he got up from his chair, now dented with a permanent ass mark from frequent sitting, and he said, "Thank you for looking after Beau."

I stared at the chair. Jeez.

"Yes... yes, you already said that," I snapped.

I wondered why I was doing this to begin with. I realized this must be what family is: the burdens that tie us. Bind us. Tether us. Weigh each other down. Ugh... Yes, Ashley must have always been and still is more than just a boy-man to me. I suppose if he wasn't, I would have had no qualms leaving his carcass for the Southern vultures. I guess I accepted him as that one (in my case, one of MANY) failed relative(s) whom I couldn't allow to sink or to embarrass themselves too much. -And why I did this, I'll never know. Perhaps it's in my blood-survival, not family, that is.

Ugh. Fuck family.

He stared back with hollow, blue eyes. They shone like plastic beads.

I wondered: were they sad? Was there nothing going on inside there? I looked back at a man far removed from the one I had obsessed over in my youth, and I wondered... had the war done this to you? Did you do this to yourself? Or is this who you always were?

The Ashley I fell in "love" with kept his shoulders straight. He brushed his hair. And his eyes were the clear, gentle, refined, aquifers. Now, they were merely the downtrodden, oft-peed-in, neighborhood, public wading pools. They were nothing worth swimming in.

How could the Ashley before me have ever competed with Rhett for anyone's affections? I was a fool.

I wondered if the house was becoming of Ashley, or vice versa. Feeling a prick of pity wave over my .5mm soul, I touched him on the shoulder and said, "we'll just have to get you on your feet." I exhaled. I could never be too cruel to Ashley. to his face.

"Eat and get your strength back." Before I turned to shut the door, I said, "Mellie would want that."

I couldn't help feeling his house had become a coffin encasing the past life. As much as all of Southern society missed Mellie and everything she represented, she is gone. We have to survive, but Ashley isn't even trying.

I wondered if Mellie hadn't died, how things would have been different-not just for Ashley but for me. Would Rhett still have left? Could Mellie have convinced him to stay, or was Bonnie the only thing that held him to me? Had he stopped loving me before Bonnie left? Just as I was unsure what Ashley or Mellie had ever seen in me, I wondered why Rhett had loved me and for so long.

On the walk home, only thoughts of refunding Beau and seeing Rhett again revived me.

Depression factor: 5.3

Whenever I'm down, I think about Rosemary. I can't help but feel that as time slips through my fingers like sand, so is Rhett. Clinging to Rosemary is like my desperate attempt to hold onto him... or perhaps the past.

- Scarlett

Author Note: I am attempting to gauge viewer interest in the series to assess further continuation. If you are enjoying it, reviews would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for your time and the guest reviews thus far, and I hope you've had a few laughs.