1 September 1613
Sigmun was looking at me funny today so I asked him what it was and he said I looked really different, like I did when we were younger.
"What? How do I look younger?"
"No, I mean, more…" He paused and considered his words for a minute. "You look less burdened. You know how adults always look, a little tired as if they're carrying something unbearably heavy. You don't look so much like an adult."
"Thanks, I suppose."
"I meant it as a good thing. Call me crazy, but I was really worried about you."
"That's nice to know."
"I've always wondered, how old do I look?"
"You look more like a child than an adult. Certainly by your standards."
"What are your standards?"
"Children are nicer and more innocent than adults. The more you know about the world, the more of an adult you are."
"Then I was already growing up when I was three!"
"And I was when I was seven."
"But if I look like a child to you, then I must be somewhat ignorant of the world, right?"
"You're kind enough to still be more of a child."
"So would you say you're still a child or more an adult?"
"I can say I'd rather be a child but I'm probably more of an adult. I live on my own, for heaven's sake."
"I think you're more of a child, to be honest."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you're much kinder than an adult. Besides Mama and a few adults like her. I think you're too kind to ever really be an adult."
"Me too. I think most people would say you're younger than you are."
"Why?"
"You know a lot more than you let on around people."
"Do I really not let on that much?"
"I doubt anyone who'd meet you on the street would know about your blood family. They'd probably think Dolora was your blood mother."
"Oh." Pause. "You think so?"
"I do."
"So what do you think being an adult really is? Knowing, or being kind, or not being burdened?"
"I think it's all three, but it's greater than the sum of its parts."
"That's one way to put it."
Just then, Simonn opened the door and wandered in. "Sorry I'm late. Richard and Thomas got in a fight over who had to feed the chickens. What's going on?"
"We're defining adulthood."
"You mean the age?"
"No."
"Meaning?"
"We've decided that adulthood is knowing about the world, not being kind, and being burdened, except it is more than the sum of its parts," Sigmun said. "So far."
"Then I must be a boring adult."
"I don't think so," I said. "You're too kind to be an adult. Like Sigmun."
"You realize that when it comes to being an adult, all of us meet at least one of the criteria?"
"More than the sum of the parts."
"But really! I have responsibility. So do you, Deedee. And you both know a lot about the world, probably more than I, the reclusive awkward science enthusiast, do."
"Wow, pessimistic much?" I said.
"What's wrong with being an adult? It happens to everyone. If the whole world was full of children, we'd never have anyone to take care of the practical matters. No one would think about physics or medicine or history. We wouldn't be having this discussion."
"There's one way to look at it."
"Hey, I'd rather be a child. My parents grabbed me by the hair and dragged me into adulthood when they realized there is no way to care for four under-tens and hold a regular job without getting someone to take care of the children."
"You're lucky that way. My blood mother apparently never wanted me to reach adulthood," Sigmun shrugged.
"My mother decided she's going to shove me into adulthood and then leave so I have no way to leave one foot in childhood long enough to figure out adulthood," I added.
"I hope I'm not like that when I'm a parent," Simonn said.
"I don't think you'll be like that," I said. "You're kind of a parent already."
"Don't remind me."
"I'll try not to."
"I reckon Mama's more of an adult for finding me," Sigmun said, and there was this strange sort of regret in his voice. "I wish that wasn't true."
"It's not your fault. I think your birth mother wasn't terribly good at being an adult, personally," I said. "I mean, adults have to take more responsibilities and she obviously didn't. She could've at least tried to give you to someone."
"I can't say I regret my childhood!"
"That's not what I mean! I mean she didn't take responsibility for you like she should've. Your blood father was probably even worse, leaving her like that. He just abandoned his responsibilities and left your blood mother to shoulder all of it."
"My parents were basically horrible adults and parents, is what you're saying."
"I guess so…"
"Well, I have to say I agree," Sigmun sighed. "Simonn's got the best blood parents of any of us."
"They hardly know I exist."
"At least they take responsibility for you. They feed you and clothe you and everything. My mother only let me buy things if they were also for her. My father likes to pretend I don't exist," I pointed out.
"So are we adding responsibility to our list of Adult Criteria?"
"I guess so," Sigmun said. "But really, why do people lose their kindness when they become adults?"
"I think it's not about being kind," Simonn said. "I think it's about being sad."
"Yeah," I said. "I mean, my mother's the way she is because she's sad."
"That's not a justification," Sigmun said. "She's still mean."
"Yeah, but it does rather explain why adults are the way they are," Simonn said.
"But Dolora's sad, and she's kind," I pointed out.
"How do you know she's sad?" Simonn asked.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" I said. "You can see it in her eyes."
"Why would Dolora be sad?" Simonn asked.
"A lot of reasons. She's an adult," Sigmun said.
"Well, I mean, we didn't meet any of your family besides that Aunt Matilda in the city…" I said.
"What about her parents?" Simonn asked Sigmun.
"They don't talk to her. The rest of her family doesn't, either," Sigmun said.
"Why not?" I asked. I thought they might be like my mother.
"Because…"Sigmun looked uncomfortable. "They all think she gave birth to me. And she never got married, so…" He shrugged. I can't believe they think that Dolora is Sigmun's blood mother. How could they fail to notice her being pregnant?
"I'm sorry," I said.
"It's alright," Sigmun shrugged. "I mean, I never even met them. It's not like I can miss them."
"You can miss the idea of them, though," Simonn pointed out. "I never met my grandparents, but I kind of wish I had."
"I'm fine with just Mama and then you guys."
"What?" Simonn asked.
"Well, if I'm talking about family, I'd say you two and Mama are my family. And I guess Aunt Matilda, but I never see her."
Simonn shrugged. "I never thought about it that way."
"You have a blood family, though," I pointed out.
"So?"
"You have a family. I don't," I said simply. "If everyone who was related to me by blood disappeared, I'd still have my family. Same with Sigmun."
"What, is that a bad thing?" Simonn snapped.
"No, I just mean…I think it's easier to figure out who your real family is when your blood family is a bit harder to have. You're lucky."
"I guess." Simonn shrugged again. "I get double the family. Double the worrisome parents."
"Double the siblings to deal with?"
"You don't count as 'dealing with'. But I would say I have an overabundance in the siblings department."
I laughed and said, "I'd love to have siblings. My house is lonely these days."
"Call me crazy, but isn't that better than the alternative?" Simonn asked.
"Much. But it's still lonely."
Sigmun reached for my hand from where he was lying on the floor and said, "For whatever it's worth, I doubt you'll live there forever."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, think about it. No one lives in the same house for their whole life. You'll probably move at some point."
"Optimistic."
"True."
"Thanks."
"Wait, so, returning to previous topics of conversation, do you think if a child takes responsibility for something, would he or she be an adult?"
"I don't reckon so," I said. "Only because they'd still be innocent and happy and all that. I still say adulthood is greater than the sum of its parts."
"Greater than the sum of responsibility, sadness, loss of innocence, and being burdened? What else is there?"
"No, I mean that I feel like there's some quality of adulthood that doesn't really have a name that goes along with the rest of them."
"Adultiness?" Simonn suggested.
"That works," I said.
"Speaking of," Sigmun said. "Mama asked if we'd find willow and a few other of her herbs today."
So we went and collected the herbs and I wasn't kidding about my house feeling lonely, but I'd like to think I'll live with Sigmun some day. I doubt my house will feel lonely forever.
2 September 1613
The leaves were lovely today. It's been years since I've stopped to look at the leaves. I wish I could draw. If I could draw, I would draw piles and piles of pictures of the leaves and the river and the creek and the clearings and the berry patches and Dolora's house and my house and my friends and just everything.
I know I write to keep my memories. I wonder if Simonn draws his memories. I know Sigmun speaks them. I wonder what Dolora does with her memories? She doesn't talk much about her past. I wonder how she met Rose. I wonder what she did in school, when she met her friends. I know everything about most of my friends' childhoods, especially Sigmun and Simonn. But I have always wondered about Dolora's childhood.
4 September 1613
Today we went into the village and talked to Hannah and Mariek. Mariek had this funny look on her face, a little bit lost, like she was missing a little piece of her that wasn't quite big enough to recognize, but just big enough to miss. I think it's because Neolla's been gone. Mariek and Neolla always seemed to depend on each other's companionship, and I wonder if Neolla feels the same way.
Hannah was wearing her winter clothes today and either she's feeling the cold early or her father is as bad as my mother. I hate to say it, but I suspect the later.
7 September 1613
I was getting ready today and I noticed myself in the small mirror I keep in my room (it's an heirloom) and I look so much more alive. I used to have those dark marks under my eyes and my cheeks looked hollow and my lips thin. I used to have thinning hair and worryingly pale skin marked by bruises and cuts. I used to look half-dead. But now my skin is less ghostly and more skin-colored and my cheeks are pink and filled out. My hair looks thick and curly again and my lips don't look so thin and pale. I just look less like a ghost and more like a person. I don't know why I never appreciated how nice it can feel to be alive.
8 September 1613
We went to the creek today and sat with our feet in the water, plucking and eating the last berries of the season. Sigmun and Simonn were both smiling and I never quite realized how striking Simonn's eyes are when you're paying attention. I also never realized that the daylight makes Sigmun's face look a little older, the shadows catching his cheekbones and the light catching the little hairs on his chin. I like all these things I've been noticing now that I'm not spending all my energy surviving.
9 September 1613
I forget sometimes how much I love my friends. It's like a huge ache inside, but it doesn't hurt. Today, while we were sitting in the clearing full of forget-me-nots, I noticed Sigmun and Simonn smiling and nothing makes me happier than seeing my friends happy. I just started laughing aloud and I'm sure I sounded insane, but they started laughing too. Relief is so wonderful. And it was genuine laughter, not the forced kind born of trying too hard to smile. Seeing and hearing them so happy made me feel even lighter, even better than I already have been.
11 September 1613
A letter came today from Neolla. She said she was doing fine and even though school was hard, she was enjoying it and she'd made friends. She said she shared her room with four boys, Jonathan and David and Jacob and Dirk, and they were nice enough and good friends and they all were working for different degrees. I hope she's enjoying herself.
We wrote back (I did the writing) telling her about the news here, which isn't much. It felt strange to address the letter to Nelson Redglare, but putting her real name would cause a lot of trouble.
13 September 1613
We went to the village again today and I kept staring at Simonn to try to get him to talk to Hannah, but he didn't say anything and then later he reminded me I said October, not September. I know that, but I told him the sooner the better, once it was over with he'd feel much better. He rolled his eyes at me, but he knew I was right. Just like I know he was right.
Today Mariek and Hannah and I sat together and talked and I know Hannah must be keeping secrets. I'm torn between getting her to tell and leaving it be. It would be better for her to tell; I know that much. But I don't want to force her to do anything she doesn't want to do, especially knowing how shy Hannah is.
Someone once told me life is made of circles. This is certainly the most ironic circle of my life so far.
14 September 1613
Dolora's been helping me feed myself while I find my bow and arrows and (once I find them) practice my aim. I'm so grateful for her. I owe her so much, after everything she's done for me. I know a lot of people in my situation aren't nearly as lucky as I am.
15 September 1613
I still can't find that bow and arrows. I wonder where they've gone? I hope Mother didn't take them with her for her own twisted reasons. I don't know why she would, but in her distorted mind, anything can make sense. I'm worried I won't be able to feed myself now. I don't want to starve again.
22 September 1613
Nothing much has been happening, so I haven't felt the need to write all that much. I still haven't found the bow and arrows. Simonn still hasn't told Hannah, and Hannah is still as skittish as ever about telling Simonn. Mariek still seems a little lost without Neolla, and Neolla's letters make it sound like she's a little lost, too. Sigmun's still very sweet and very kind, and I'm still very grateful for him, and for all my friends, really.
23 September 1613
I looked in the mirror again and I did my hair up and tied it with a ribbon and I'm quite happy with how it turned out. I've always liked my hair better than the rest of me and I like how it made my face look and I never thought I'd like the way I look. But I went to their house and Sigmun said I looked lovely and Simonn asked how long it took to do my hair like that. He sounded impressed. All this time my mother had been getting worse, I'd stopped noticing the tics in their voices, the way Simonn's hand moves just so when he's drawing something and doesn't like it but he won't give up, the particular gleam in Sigmun's eye when he suggests swimming, the exact way Dolora's dress swishes when she stands up in a particular sort of hurry. I like noticing things about people and I'm so glad I'm free enough to notice again.
Simonn's going to draw another picture of us in November. He says he wants to do it every year, see how we get older until we're all fifty-five and die. I didn't mention that Dolora's going to be fifty-five before we are and unless she lives to be very old, she's going to die before us, mostly because that makes me sad, too. And a straightforward sort of sad, too. Not that twisted, angry sort of sadness surrounding my mother.
It's very strange to think that a day will come when I will wake up and there will be no one left who I consider my parent.
24 September 1613
Is it really possible that I've been keeping a journal for more than two years? How odd. I'm glad Sigmun gave me a new one, because I only have a few pages left in this one. He's very observant, to notice my journal. Or perhaps I just haven't been paying attention after everything that's been going on with my mother. Thank heaven that's over with. I'll never have to worry about her again.
I still wonder, though, about all those people whose names she called me by. Especially Jennet. That was one of the ones she called me the most. Who was Jennet? For that matter, why did my mother hate her so much? Why did Mother hate any of those people so much? She never yelled any surnames, so I don't even know if they were family or what. Her maiden name was Smith, so anyone with the name Smith could theoretically be my blood family.
27 September 1613
I reminded Simonn that he has just one month to tell Hannah today and he gave me a look that could kill. Sigmun snorted, trying not to laugh, and then he took my hand and whispered, "I'm really glad he made us tell each other."
"Me too."
And really, I am.
29 September 1613
I'm glad it's cooling down; I don't like the dog days of summer. I like fall the best. I like the crisp flavor of the air, the beautiful angle of the light through the painted leaves, the cool breeze that makes my skirt and my hair flutter like butterfly wings. I feel so good these days and it's stunning that it's only been a month since Mother left.
I worry that I won't be able to find my bow and arrows. It's silly, but I'm worried.
And I asked Hannah today who she loved, and she said, "Simonn, still."
"You could tell him."
"No, I can't."
"Alright…"
One more month.
30 September 1613
Poor Simonn. I don't know what he'll do now.
Today, we went to the village and while I was talking with Hannah and Mariek, Sigmun and Simonn wandered by and I could tell Simonn was working up the courage to talk to Hannah. I dragged Mariek away and told them we had to go home and then I told Sigmun I had to stop at the fabric store and would he come with me.
So Simonn and Hannah went off on their own and then Sigmun and I went back to his house, where I spend most of my time these days anyways.
About half an hour later, Simonn opened the door, slammed it behind him, and then lied face-down on the couch.
"Simonn?" I asked.
He mumbled something, but I couldn't hear what it was because his face was buried in the couch
"I can't hear you, your face is in the couch."
"You lied."
"About what?"
"You said she loved me. You said it was a sure thing."
"It was. It is. What happened?"
"She said she could never love me back, what the hell else?"
"I'm going to make tea," Sigmun said. He's more like Dolora than he realizes. I hope it's not the same with Mother and I.
"Simonn, what happened?"
"I said what you all said I should, I told her I loved her and I thought she was clever and kind and beautiful and funny and all that. I had that whole damn speech practically planned to the letter. And she just said she was sorry, but she couldn't love me, not ever. All blunt like that. Ugh, I'm such a failure."
"Simonn, it's not your fault. It's no one's fault." But I was confused. Hannah told me herself that she loved him. Why hadn't she told him? Had she changed her mind? I find it unlikely, considering that breathless look on her face last time I asked her. I know it takes a long time to recover from that kind of love, if at all. If she doesn't love Simonn anymore, I don't know what we can do to help him, besides hope that time heals. I'm not going to force love; that never works.
Anyways, Sigmun brought tea and Simonn only drank a few sips before he just lied on the couch and stared at the ceiling.
"I never thought a heart could hurt so much," Simonn said. "Useless things, hearts."
"That's pessimistic."
"It's true. Without a heart, none of this ever would have happened."
"Without a heart, you'd never have met any of us or cared for your siblings or anything. We'd all be dead if none of us had hearts."
"I don't care. Hearts are overrated."
"I'll talk to Hannah, if you like. I know she loves you."
"She just told me she didn't, weren't you listening?"
"I was."
"Then what's the point?!"
"The point is that she loves you and I know it! She told me!"
"Oh."
"Oh is right. Maybe she's changed her mind, but I think there's something else going on."
"Thanks, I guess."
"Any time."
"You want to choose a book?" Sigmun asked.
"Principia, what else?" Simonn snapped. "I'll read."
"Fine," Sigmun said, plucking the book of the shelf. "Have fun."
So we read until it was almost dark out and Simonn dragged himself home, looking all sad and heartbroken. I'll talk to Hannah tomorrow.
1 October 1613
We went to the village again today and Simonn tried unsuccessfully to hide behind Sigmun, except he's so much taller than Sigmun that it was useless. But they left eventually and Hannah looked ill, so I asked her what was wrong because I had a sense it was the same thing that was bothering Simonn.
"Hannah, what's wrong? You look ill."
"N-Nothing…"
"I don't believe that for a second. You look like you haven't slept in days."
"I—I just…"
"Is this about Simonn?"
She nodded.
"Do you still love him?"
"Yes," she said, that breathless look on her face again.
"Then why didn't you tell him that?"
"Because my father said I have to marry a Jewish man."
"My mother told me I had to get married before I turned eighteen, and yet here I am."
"It's different. My father…My father…" She choked a little and I thought she was going to cry.
"It's alright, Hannah. It's alright. Hey, just…let's sit down."
Hannah shrugged and she'd tensed up all her muscles like she was freezing cold. "I'm not allowed to love him."
"Hannah, why the hell would you listen to your dad over what you want?" Mariek added. "He won't be around your whole life. You know who you have to deal with for your whole life? You. So make your choices that way."
"I can't."
"Why not?" Mariek challenged.
"Because I can't! That's how it works with parents!"
Hannah looked very small just then. She always looks small. The thing about Hannah is that she's taller than me, almost as tall as Mariek, but her demeanor makes her seem so much smaller.
"Why don't you tell him that?" I suggested. "It might help get this off your chest. Anyways, he's been moping around the house."
"Oh," Hannah said, looking guilty.
"No, I don't mean—I didn't mean it like that. Oh, Hannah, it's alright—" She'd started crying and I'm starting to worry because even though Hannah and I aren't similar in personality, I know exactly how it feels to carry around the weight of a parent who doesn't love you and I worry I'm not the only one who knows.
"No, it's not. My father won't let me love him, and now it's making him sad—"
"Hannah, jeez. There's an obvious solution," Mariek cut in. "Tell Simonn that you love him, but your father wants you to marry a Jewish man, so you and him can't be together now. Maybe someday, though."
"I'd like to marry him," Hannah said shyly, blushing violently.
"Then tell him that and then…" I didn't want to tell her to run away, but I also dread that her father might be like my mother and no one deserves that.
"Then what?"
"It might be best to live with someone other than your father," I said carefully.
"That doesn't make sense."
"Doesn't it?" I asked. "It's what everyone said about my mother!"
Hannah's face flushed with some emotion I know and can't quite name. "I'm fine! I don't need to leave!"
"I'll take your word for it," I said. "But feel free to leave, alright? Don't trap yourself."
"I'm not."
"Alright," I said doubtfully. But I didn't want to press because I know how upset it can make you and I didn't want to upset Hannah. It's clear she's on edge right now and I don't want to make things worse for her.
Anyways, Simonn seemed a bit less mopey today and he said he was worried now because what sort of parent is her father, and was he like my mother, and what if—
So I told him he needed to calm down and she was fine and if he was really worried, he could just talk to her. Simonn's clever and all, but I think he is a bit of a distracted-scientist type, the same way I suspect Hannah holds much more confidence that she knows she has.
3 October 1613
It was nice out today. I found my old bow and arrows, a gift from Father when I was fifteen and he thought I was eleven, and I practiced shooting at a knot in a tree. I still have pretty good aim, good enough to start hunting for my food, certainly. I'm so grateful for Dolora's help with food. I owe her so much. When I'm older and I have a proper job, I'm going to pay her back for all this.
5 October 1613
I tried to shoot a few animals today and I missed because they were moving too fast for me to catch. I'll have to remember that next time I try.
At any rate, I stayed for supper with Sigmun and Dolora. I want to cry sometimes because I'm just so grateful for everything Dolora does for me. Maybe that's silly, but I feel empty inside sometimes from all Mother said that scooped out my insides and left me a shell. Feeling so full of love almost hurts after being hollow for so long. And being cared for as if I am someone worth something is just too much. I may not be my mother's daughter, but I am certainly Dolora's daughter and there is no better feeling in the world.
6 October 1613
I had such a nightmare last night about being in a cage, a birdcage, and my mother wouldn't let me out, even thought I couldn't fit in the cage and it was killing me. I woke up and I couldn't breathe, but at least I was alone.
I might sell the empty birdcage my mother kept in her room. She said it was an heirloom from her grandmother. But I never like it. It always seemed lonely to me, a birdcage without a bird. It might help me buy the things I need. I need a new pair of boots, certainly.
7 October 1613
Today while we were reading, Sigmun started falling asleep in the middle of this sentence, so I took the book from him and gave it to Simonn and I shifted so he was resting his head in my lap and he fell asleep like that, looking peaceful. He was so kind to me when I couldn't sleep, when all my days were dark and heavy and painful, and I want him to feel the same relief because I like knowing he's happy. I wonder what sorts of dreams he's been having.
9 October 1613
We were in the village today and I saw Simonn looking at Hannah and Hannah looking at Simonn, so I nudged Simonn and then said, "Hey, Simonn, we have to run errands while we're here. How about you and Hannah go to the fabric store and Sigmun and I will go get food?"
"I have to head home anyways," Mariek said. "Another man my mother wants me to meet."
"See you, then," I said. We all waved goodbye and Sigmun and I went food shopping.
"You did that on purpose."
"I did."
"So hopefully they'll sort themselves out and all this romantic drama I've been dealing with since I was twelve will be over, with any luck at all."
"Pretty much."
"That sounds really nice."
"No kidding."
I hope it all works out. Apparently Simonn dropped off the fabric for bandages and then went home before Sigmun and I got there.
10 October 1613
When Simonn came over today, he was grinning like a fool.
"What happened?"
"Nothing…"
"It's Hannah, isn't it? You two sorted everything out."
"Yeah. She said that if she ever got out of her father's house, we could maybe…" He blushed. "We could maybe…be together."
"That's excellent!" I said.
"Yeah." He grinned again. "Let's read Principia."
"Alright."
I don't think I've ever seen Simonn as more melodramatic than when he talks about Hannah. I suppose he just lets his guard drop about her. I think it's sweet.
13 October 1613
The weather's been getting cooler. I like the colors of the leaves, and they've started falling. It's hard to be quiet in the forest when there're so many leaves, but practice has taught me well.
I went hunting today and I almost got something. I think this is from when we were little and we'd play this game where we tried to throw sticks at each other while running. We stopped after Simonn got hit in the eye with one and Dolora had to put a warm compress over his eye for a day and a half. But aiming at moving things has never quite disappeared from my mind.
16 October 1613
It was nice out today and I'm feeling inexplicably good. I stayed late and I had dinner with Dolora and Sigmun, but I also kissed Sigmun some and it felt so good like it always does. I hope he likes kissing me as much as I like kissing him. I don't feel so bad about it, either, which is nice.
18 October 1613
I got a squirrel today! I barely took out its leg and then from there I shot it again and I caught it. So I made stew (after I skinned it and everything), and it was quite good. I'm just really happy with how this is turning out, life without my mother.
20 October 1613
I found a whole bunch of old bottles today and I emptied them all and rinsed them twice and then gave them to Dolora to use for medicines. I don't ever want that sort of thing back in my life.
21 October 1613
I've never been drunk and after this mess I don't want to be. Sigmun and Simonn went to the pub after Dolora was asleep and I stayed up late reading because Dolora got a new adventure novel and it was excellent. I don't want to go to the pub; I don't need any more men harassing me. It must've been around midnight when Sigmun came home and he was drunk out of his mind, the absolute idiot.
He tripped on a chair that was pushed in and I rolled my eyes. "Hey, Dianna." It was painfully obvious that he was trying to appear sober. I have enough experience with drunkenness that it didn't work.
"Get to bed."
"But why?" he asked, failing entirely to pull out a chair and sit in it.
"Because it's past midnight, idiot."
"I meant to do that…" he slurred. His eyes looked all red, like my mother's used to get sometimes. "It is?"
"You're drunk," I said flatly. "Go to bed."
"I'm not drunk!" he protested, trying to stand up and tripping on the chair again. "I meaned to do that…"
"I don't care. You're drunk as hell, and you're talking so loud I'm surprised you haven't woken Dolora up yet, and if you don't get to bed soon I'll leave and let you wake up on the floor."
"You're really pretty…"
"You're an idiot," I snapped. "Go. To. Bed."
He tried to sit in the chair again, failed, and then instead sat on my chair and kissed me rather suddenly and sloppily. I shoved him away and said, "What the hell was that?"
"I thought you loved me…" He looked like he was about to start bawling.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, you're drunk out of your mind. It's different."
"B-But…" He sounded all choked up and I was starting to get frustrated.
"Shut up or I'll slap you!"
He stopped and looked up at me with these ten-year-old sad eyes.
"Go to bed. You'll realize how horrible an idea this was tomorrow."
I got him to bed eventually and the moron I have for a suitor still didn't quite realize what the hell was going on. He's going to regret this tomorrow.
I never want to be that drunk. I don't ever want to lose control of myself that way. It sounds dangerous and scary and I'd just rather keep myself under control because…I'm afraid of what I'd do. And I wouldn't know, either. I'd rather just stay sober. And I don't want to end up like my mother.
22 October 1613
He definitely regretted it from the look on his face today. I guess he told Dolora he had a cold, because he was holding a mug of that herb tea she always makes when someone gets a cold.
"So," I said. "Regret it yet?"
"Yeah," he said. "I feel awful."
"You deserve it."
"What did I do? As in, which part of that?"
"You came home and you were drunk out of your mind."
"…Sorry."
"Yeah. Great."
"What?"
"You're acting like my mother. No, you were acting like those drunk men in the village."
"What?" he asked again. He probably had a headache like Mother used to get.
"Drinking your problems away, then coming home and expecting me to get you to bed and take care of you? Next time, I'll let you fall asleep on the floor."
"That's not fair!"
"Then don't expect me to be there to catch you every time!"
"I didn't expect you to be there! I thought you were at your house! How was I supposed to know you stayed late?"
"I always stay late these days, Sigmun."
"I said sorry! What do you want?"
"I want someone who won't treat me like a slave!"
"When have I ever done that?"
"Last night!"
"Have I ever been drunk before then? No! And I certainly don't plan to do that again!"
"You say that, but no one keeps promises for long!"
"You're not being fair! It was one time!"
"I couldn't care less if it was one time or a hundred! I'm surprised you remembered my name at all! What other women did you see last night?"
"Oh, so that's what this is about? Well, for your information, none! I didn't touch another woman the whole night!"
"As if I should believe that! How would you know?"
"Because I'd notice if I was suddenly kissing someone else! I remember things, Dianna!"
"And yet you don't have the common sense not to get drunk as hell?"
"Are you really angry at me or just hurt?"
"I'm really pissed off at you, Sigmun! Can't a woman be angry?"
"Of course! Obviously you are! I'm just…" He rested his head on the table and said, "I said sorry. What else can I do?"
"Nothing."
"Then why are you still here? Just go if you're going to go."
I sighed. "I'm not going to go."
"Why not?"
"Because after all that I still love you, you idiot!"
He didn't reply to that for a long time. I don't even know why I said it.
"I'm going home," I snapped, picking up the book and leaving. I don't know why I'm so angry. I just…How could he do that? How could he do something that stupid and awful? I don't even know what I'll do. I no longer risk my safety by staying at home, but I still want to see Simonn and Dolora and I know Dolora will worry if I don't visit. I could say I'm taking a day to hunt, but…I don't know. I'm just so angry!
23 October 1613
I gave up trying to sit at home all day pretty quickly. I can't stand staying inside all day. So I went hunting in the morning and into the evening and I got a rabbit and then I decided that I should go to their house, only because Dolora would be worrying. But when I got there, Sigmun was sitting at the table with a book and a cup of tea.
"Hello," I said shortly.
"Hello," he said, trying to smile. "How are you?"
"Fine. And you?"
"I'm alright." I could tell he didn't believe I was fine, but he wasn't going to call me out on it. "Better, anyways."
"Well, anything's better than getting so drunk you trip on chairs."
"That's not fair. You're not being fair!"
"Isn't it? You of all people should know that doing something that stupid is not going to land you anywhere pleasant!" I still don't know why I was so upset. I just…I'm so tired of always being the mistake and I'm afraid that now I'm going to be some else's mistake.
"Don't you think I regret it, too? My head hurt and I couldn't look out the window and I couldn't even think about food. I could barely stand without the room spinning in crazy circles. And now Mama's going to be mad once she figures it out and on top of all that, I'm losing…"
"Losing what, Sigmun? Losing what?"
"I'm losing you." He barely whispered it, but he sounded heartbroken. I don't know how anyone could have a not-marriage (or whatever you call this relationship we have) without talking like this. We've always been honest with each other and I think that that's a good thing.
I sighed again. "No you're not. Just…I don't know."
"Just don't do anything that dumb again?"
"…Yeah. I guess so."
"I remember all of that, you know."
"Really."
"Vaguely. You told me you'd slap me."
"I didn't mean it."
"I know."
We sat in silence for a long time and I wanted to say something but I didn't know what. I had this weird mix of feelings in me, resentment towards Mother and anger at Sigmun and hurt and also guilt. They were all awful. And I just didn't know how to express them. So I picked the worst one.
"Do you still care about me?"
He looked kind of mystified. "I love you, Dianna. One fight didn't change that."
"Nice to know. I love you, too."
"Did you think I'd just leave because of one really dumb choice and one really dumb fight? It was my fault anyways."
"People always leave. I kind of count on it. I'm everybody's biggest mistake."
"Well, you're certainly not one of my mistakes at all. Promise."
"Till death do us part?"
He grinned kind of shakily and said, "Till death do us part."
I smiled back and asked, "Is Simonn going to be here today?"
"He stopped by, but I think he's in the village trying to muster up the courage to talk to Hannah."
"Oh, for heaven's sake, he really needs to tell her. He's driving himself crazy."
"That's certainly true. Are you staying for dinner?"
"If it's no trouble."
"I hope you know that every time you say that, it will be no trouble at all."
I shrugged. "I don't want to be any bother."
"And you never were and you never will be. Mama's not joking when she calls us all her children, you know."
"I know."
A long pause. "I'm sorry," I said.
"What for?"
"I'd never hurt you. Never, ever. I swear it."
"I know that. Of course I do. Why?"
"I didn't mean I'd hit you. I never would."
"I know. You know I know."
"I just really want you to know that, okay? With Mother and everything…"
"Well, you're not like your mother. Anyone with half a brain can see that."
"I just want you to know that I wouldn't do that. Ever."
"I do know that. Believe me, I do."
"I'm just sorry. I said it when I was angry and I didn't mean it and I never would. Ever."
"You've said that about four times. I do know."
"Alright…"
"You can choose the book today."
"Want to go to the creek?"
"Sure."
So I picked one of the romance novels and we went to the creek and just read for a while. And I kissed him, once, on the lips, but not so intense like it is sometimes. I was just so tired of being upset.
It's strange; I don't feel like this is my fault, like I usually do. I've always known that most things that go wrong in my life are my fault, but this time I feel like maybe it's his fault, but I'm not mad anymore. People do dumb things (I think a few of my own choices can prove that) and I guess the only thing to do is move past them. Dwelling won't do any good. I know that much for sure.
24 October 1613
It was cold out today. I took my mother's blankets and piled them on my bed, so now I'm not shivering when I try to sleep like I used to. It would be nice to sleep next to Sigmun, because I'd bet he'd be warm and comfortable. I hope he'd like to sleep next to me. I just think it would be nice to not wake up lonely and alone. And it would be nice to not wake up cold.
26 October 1613
I sold the birdcage today. I got actually quite a bit for it, so I bought yeast and flour to make bread for quite a while and a nice new pair of boots, sturdy and comfortable. I'm glad to have that lonely thing out of my house. Now that it's my house, I'm going to make it nice and comfortable and not so cold-feeling, even in summer.
27 October 1613
Today I shot a rabbit and I made stew again and I'm just so happy that I can support myself enough to not starve to death. I'll make bread tomorrow.
28 October 1613
My bread-making endeavor went relatively well and I have a loaf to eat through the week. Hopefully it'll keep. Dolora makes bread every two days, but I don't have the time or the appetite to do that.
Sigmun fell asleep on my lap again today and I stroked his hair gently and it felt nice to be so close to him, to give my affection to someone else.
30 October 1613
Tomorrow is All Hallows' Eve and for the first time, I won't have to go to town with my mother and talk with her friends' children. I can actually enjoy myself this year. What a rare opportunity.
31 October 1613
All Hallows' Eve was wonderful this year. We all met up in the park, like usual, except it felt a little strange because Neolla's at school and she couldn't afford to come home. Mariek kept glancing to her left like she was expecting Neolla to be sitting there with her red-tinted eyeglasses and her teal skirt that seemed like the skirts I saw on the few university women that made them look like pencils even though it's just like mine. (That sounded mean. I just mean to describe how they looked. How I wish I could be one of those very few university women…)
Anyways, we ate sweets and played horseshoes (of course Mariek won by a mile) and watched as the little ones ran around, asking for sweets and flowers to weave into chains. Hannah and Mariek and I taught Sigmun and Simonn and Sumner and even Patrik how to make flower chains. I guess it's a skill boys don't bother to learn. I bet many of them think it's too girly. I don't know why boys always get so offended about being called girly.
After a Patrik had left to go spend time with his family, Mariek and Sumner disappeared together (no question as to what happened there), and then Simonn and Hannah left, both giving excuses a child wouldn't have believed. I waited until they were gone to start laughing.
"What's so funny?"
"They're going off together because they want to kiss."
"I know that much. But what's funny about that?"
"It's funny because they think the rest of us don't know."
"Oh."
"I suppose it goes both ways."
"What, like how you and I danced around each other for a year before we 'fessed up?"
"Yeah."
Sigmun looked around the emptying park. Most everyone was in the square by now, eating supper.
"Speaking of, we are rather alone here," he said.
"You have such a dirty mind."
"Bet you were thinking the same thing."
I was. "You win that bet." I kissed him right on the lips and it was nice, kissing him like that. I mean, I suppose I was more reserved than usual, because we were in a public park for heaven's sake, but it was still nice and I still felt good and light and free and I didn't have to worry about Mother finding me and I never thought that would happen.
I'm staying over at Sigmun's tonight with Simonn and it's hilarious because Simonn walked home with us and he was absolutely on cloud nine.
"Simonn?"
"Yeah?" he said, almost dreamily.
"Did you kiss Hannah?"
"What makes you say that?" he asked, flopping back on the couch and grinning up at the ceiling.
"You're acting practically delirious."
"No m'not."
"Simonn…"I said.
"You obviously kissed her, don't lie," Sigmun contributed. "Don't be a hypocrite."
"Fine," Simonn admitted. "We kissed."
"How was it?" I asked, grinning.
"Wonderful," Simonn said. "It was amazing."
"You sound a little bit drunk."
"I'm fine…" He grinned again and stood up. "I'm going to bed…"
"Yeah right," I said. "You're going to stay up reliving the same two minutes over and over again in your head."
Simonn blushed. "No I'm not."
"Yes you are, don't try to deny it," I said.
"How do you know?"
"Because that's what I did."
Sigmun shot me a look from where he was picking a book off the shelf and I realized that he was indeed still in the room and that he was the one in the moment I relived a hundred times over.
Simonn sighed dreamily and said, "Goodnight, then."
"Goodnight, Simmie," I said.
After he'd gone upstairs to Sigmun's room (now that the leak is fixed), Sigmun said, "You…you were like that after we kissed?"
"…Yeah, a little." I felt my face burn.
"Only because I kind of was too," he blurted, all in a rush. "I mean, I was just…yeah."
I kissed his cheek and said, "That's nothing to be embarrassed about."
"Yeah." He shrugged and added, "I'm going to bed, too. Goodnight."
"G'night, Siggy." I kissed him and went to search for the blanket I usually use when I sleep here.
Simonn and Hannah. It certainly took them long enough. I hope Hannah gets out of her father's house soon. I hope things start going well for us.