I had a long pause. It's a hectic time in my work, so it took me some time and it felt rather crappy but here it is... Please R&R.
Uncle Henry stayed. Scarlett encouraged Ella to show the family of her latest piano improvements. She was singing by her daughter's side, ignoring the many errors Ella made to a point that the three men, Wade, Rhett and Uncle Henry had to put a hand on their mouths to hide the smiles. Noticing the situation, lightly she offered
"Ella darling, won't you let me play a song for Rhett? He is a really good singer."
She caught him by surprise. He hadn't sang in years a real tune.
"Please, Rhett." She pleaded
"Only if you join me"
The chords entered the room similarly to the light of the candles, moving, touching the inner cords of the singers as well as their listeners.
After a few songs, Scarlett leaned to her husband – "Thank you darling, I'm afraid, both my playing and singing are a bit rusty."
"Not in the least mother" it was Wade who found his voice first – "You sing so beautifully, just as you sang when I was little. It's the only memory I have from the war before Tara."
She smiled surprised – "You must have been barely three years old."
"Yes, but Aunt Melly told me often how you'd sing in parties. Don't you play the piano, Uncle Rhett?"
"Uncle Rhett knows how to play the guitar, Wade."
"Oh?" the amazement came from all the present in the room.
"How do you know that?" asked Rhett "I haven't played in twenty five years at least, not that I was any good when I did."
"You told me. In fact to threatened to serenade under my window if I didn't accept your marriage proposal."
"She memorizes your every word." Henry remarked in a low tone. The accusation was not hidden.
When they went upstairs she was delayed with her children, more than the usual. Absentmindedly he opened the drawer next to her side of the bed, to once again observe the folded papers. He took them and observed them silently.
Dearest Melly,
Yesterday we bid you farewell for the last time. You would have loved the ceremony and the flowers displayed in your honor. I couldn't stop thinking how proud you'd be looking at Beau in his little black suit, and of Wade holding his hand in the beginning of the ceremony. At the end of it he broke though. Wade, that is. He was more yours than mine most of his life, even if I bore him.
It pains me to write, and yet, at this time of night it's either the pen and the paper or the brandy in the parlor and a headache in the morning. I never told you, did I? Did you know I drank Pa's whiskey?
At the back side of the funeral I could detect Belle Watling standing, staring. Even she loved you and came to pay her respects. My husband's mistress and the town Madame. I was planning to address her but at the end of the funeral Wade collapsed completely. Yes, my son who had had two mothers all his life. I dare write that the better one is now in Heaven with his little sister and my unborn child. I gave her a long look when I put Wade in the carriage. For the first time she lowered her eyes. I wonder why – it's not her fault he left. I suppose that by leaving he left her behind as well. I still hate her and wish she'd burn in hell. Nevertheless I most probably will be burning right next to her.
He told me that she was 'more honest' than me, 'a better investment'. It was when I most craved for him to be kind to me. I have nightmares of his relations with her. How many married men have mistresses? I wonder. Why was she there? Rhett had a ward, could he be their child? Could my husband have a child with her? If he does no wonder he preferred her to me.
Do care for my Bonnie and my unborn baby.
I love you so.
Yours Truly,
Scarlett
Dearest Melly,
I've been wondering why I find myself with the quilt and pen writing to you. I suppose I really have no one to talk to.
Rhett left me before your funeral. Right after I told him I loved him, and for the first time truly tried to be kind to him. Isn't it ironic? I could hear his footsteps fade away, just like in the night Atlanta fell and we fled it. Wasn't that the worse night ever? Well, this one was worse – I lost you. You were dead. At the night we fled I had the merciful ignorance of what awaited me at home. Ignorance is a true blessing. I wish I could be ignorant or naïve so as not know what expects me in the coming weeks, but I do. Did you know that for months after Pa died I felt as though someone had kicked me in my stomach? At the time I was heavy carrying Ella. It was horrid. At least I had you and Mammy, even Rhett. None of you are with me now. It is my cross to bear. How did our Father feel when he carried his cross? He had so many followers who loved him. I have none. Only these sweet children who seem so lost in the past few days.
I never knew why he left in the first place, nor do I know now. After all, he'd been here for months since Bonnie's death. Why now?
If you were here you'd probably tell me that he'd come back to me. Here is the thing. He promised to keep appearances for my shattered reputation's sake. I truly hope he won't keep that promise. If he does it would truly mean that he ceased loving me.
I miss you so much.
Yours Truly,
Scarlett.
Darling Sister,
You came to me in my dream the other night and scolded me. In your death you seem to know that I enjoy each and every bottle Rhett left in the cellar. Enjoy is not the accurate description though, is it?
I will stop. I do have Wade and Ella, and I can't die on them as well.
I wish something would take the pain away.
Scarlett
Melly Darling,
How could you be so patient with the whole world? With me?
The pain won't leave me. Sometimes I feel my inner parts crying for Bonnie, and for my unborn child. My ribs are giving me grief on a daily basis now that the seasons change. I have to bite my tongue so as not to snap on Wade or Ella when I'm like this. Add to it the blistering headaches I get ever since the fall. I fear something is truly wrong with me and I have to stay alive. I can't leave them. Even if I'm not much of a mother, I'm all they have.
I just don't have what it takes to be kind or soothing. Rhett had said so upon his departure. God, how I hate him for leaving me. I was in Chattanooga a week ago. I have a new notion of business and am beginning to learn the possibilities. I saw a tall man walk down the street with something that reminded me of Rhett. I followed him for several blocks from afar, letting the stupid tears flow, until another man offered me his assistance in view of my evident distress. He too was tall, perhaps too tall and dark. I mumbled my gratitude and ran for my life. I see him in anything and everything, and he is so absent.
At the end of that day, being on my own with only Prissy and Ella, as they both fell asleep I left the hotel room and went to a music show in a square near the hotel. I wasn't paying attention to the music, but observing the men around me, I dare say. Should I let go? Should I try and find something reachable? You'd be appalled at the thought. To repay my thoughts I received an awful diarrhea and was bed ridden for a week after that. Or was it the fish I ate? Luckily both Prissy and Ella ate only vegetables and rice the night before.
One would expect that with all these health issues I'd feel less lonely. Well, it doesn't work. I wish we could switch – you down here to handle the world, me up there with Bonnie, Ma, Pa and my little baby – Though what I would do with me two deceased husbands I know not. I suppose I'd apologize and beg them to find some nice angel instead of me.
Keep my babies and yourself safe.
Your Scarlett
The following letter surprised him as it was addressed to him -
Dearest Rhett
How does one begin to write to a man who has known my every thought and emotion? But there isn't a day in which I don't talk with you. Where are you, my love? Are you still breathing? Does it pain you to open your eyes as it does me? Does it cause your heart to contract painfully when you see a child in a blue frock? I've stopped looking people in the eye. In every brown eyes I find Melly, in Black I find you and in blue – Bonnie.
Wade has Melly's eyes. I force myself to smile to him. All a long I thought his eyes were his father's, when in fact they haven't been hazel for a time now and are as brown as Melly's.
You'd be so proud of Wade. He began riding horses again. Today I found myself hugging the mare I use from time to time and crying at its' neck for an hour. I did the same thing with the horse you stole for me back when Atlanta fell. Back then I cried for your abandonment. It's not much different now either. Funny, I seem to find solace in horses.
I know you said you didn't give a damn, but I can't except it. It can't be so. As long as I feel so much pain I intend to think of you as I do of myself – the grieving father of my two dead babies. I wanted that child so much. When I fell and woke to an excruciating pain I knew only that, but I couldn't remember why I so wanted it.
I make myself dress each morning, smile at the children and promise them this day will be better than the former, and so on and so forth. They seem to buy it and for them it seems to be so. Unfortunately it isn't so for me, at least not yet.
Did you crave for me? I crave for you. I always hated that part of married life. Charles was a perfect gentleman with me, the first night he did not touch me because I was terrified. Nevertheless we had Wade and it was a painful part of life. I would never have spoken with you of this had you been here. Did you ever stop to think of it? I cried the whole night after that time and poor Charlie wanted to call a doctor, which of course I forbade him to.
With poor Frank it was simply a revolting duty I'd remind myself to fulfil. I'd wash up with boiling water and vinegar afterwards. It was supposed to keep me from having babies, but it never worked. You never were revolting, but it seemed that you took pleasures when you wanted without minding my existence. And yet I crave for you. Desperately. Was what we did at that night legal? It felt illegal, immoral. I am doomed to reach the gate and never step in.
Scarlett
There were several letters in the package addressed to him, but he heard her footsteps so he slid it back to the bundle and the drawer it was in at the first place.
"Will you join me tomorrow at the construction site?"
"Must I?"
"Why don't you want to?"
"For no particular reason, I just enjoyed the past few days so."
He wasn't buying it. There had to be something she was concealing. She must have had a reason that made her stay away.
She looked tired and small. She turned behind the screen and began undressing slowly. He was thinking of her letter. She was right, he took her very much like any man would take his wife. She must have hated it.
When she came out of the screen he smiled at her –
"Would you like me to hold you?"
She gave him a puzzled look but wordlessly she stepped into his arms. He was kissing her head absentmindedly as his hands caressed her back slowly. She shivered.
"Are you too tired?" he asked gently.
She swallowed and looked at him with a questioning gaze – "No, well, yes, Oh! I don't know Rhett."
"I told you, I don't want you to do things you don't want to."
"I'm your wife, if you want me, we can…"
He hushed her "I want you all right, but more, I want you to want me. Tell me, were there times that you didn't want us to be this way, and we were nevertheless?"
She moved with unease "I suppose so."
Her eyes lit – "You know, Rhett? At the end of Bonnie's pregnancy I kept trying to seduce you, and you never did. Why is that?"
He looked amazed – "You did?"
"Yes, I wanted you more than anything at the time."
"And now?"
"I want you, I just am so tired tonight." A yawn escaped her and they both laughed. He gathered her to his chest and she dozed off in a few minutes.
After midnight, however she woke to find him sitting by the window staring ahead. She slipped out of the bed and as she approached him he gave her his hands to hold –
"I love you." She said, looking at him, he took her near him and caressed her breasts from above the nightgown. She surprised him when she took it off allowing his eyes to scrutinize her in the moon light. His hand traveled from her breasts to the lines in the lower part of her abdomen – "I don't remember these"
"They were there since I had Bonnie. I hated them. They were purple at first. Dilcey gave me some oil to spread on it after I lost the baby, it was the first time she saw it and she was mad at Mammy for doing nothing about it. I stopped when Bonnie... They help me remember that she was here once"
He kissed them burying his face in her abdomen, followed by his touch between her legs. She was wet. He moved his face backwards –
"Tell me what you want."
"I want to feel" her voice was quiet and her face void of pretense. "Half the time I feel as if I'm dead."
He closed his eyes – "Funny you should ask for my help in that. Don't you see I lost all the life I had in me?"
"You haven't. Nor have I. We just feel that way. Especially when it is dark or rainy. But we are alive." Tears were flowing on her cheeks.
She began undressing him, kneeling on the plush carpet beside him, caressing his long legs with her cheeks. He raised her chin –
"I love you, but I'm not sure it's enough to stay alive."
"It's the night talking. I know" she whispered "It's not you, it's the night."
Her hands caressed his hips and the inner part of his thighs, she felt him respond, and raised her head with a questioning gaze. He stood giving her his hand and taking her in his arms. He was going to make love to her in their bed but she kissed him in a way that made him sit back in the armchair and place her above him. He was sucking her breasts like a starved child, holding her by her abdomen allowing her to dictate the paste of the movement. She felt him swell inside her and kept whispering "You are alive" time and time again "You are alive, we are alive…" As if trying to convince herself, he heard her broken voice whisper "I am alive, I have to be alive"
At that he stopped, without letting her off of him, he rose and took her to the bed. He lay on top of her taking one of her legs up, covering her with his body, and holding her face in his hands –
"You are alive, Scarlett. Thank God you are so alive." Was it the friction or his words, she wouldn't know, but her eyes rolled and she gasped and whimpered in a low tone that was his call to release himself as well within her.
***TRULY YOURS****
The following day she came to the site with him. With her usual forcefulness she criticized several performances of relevant contractors, causing the metal contractor to nearly lose his temper as she made him prove the density of the material, and finding it lacking she threatened to break the contract with him if not replaced promptly.
Rhett was thrilled. He admired her methodological manner in reviewing the several stages and layers of the enterprise. She was right, the morning seemed to lay the restlessness of the prior night in some abandoned place within his soul. She, however, seemed impatient as if not wanting to be there a second more than necessary. He followed her to a lot where the temporary shacks made for offices within the site, the door to the office was kept open on purpose and he heard her voice stood and heard her voice –
"Harry, are the foundations made of the best substances?"
"Yes. I checked and re-checked. After the commotion you made regarding the steel no one will dare toying with this enterprise."
"It's just as well, I wouldn't want this monstrosity to collapse or something of the sort."
"Monstrosity? We copied the façade from the same genre your home is – an imitation of a Swiss Chalet."
"Well, my house is definitely a monstrosity!" she laughed
"Did your husband choose it?"
"God no! Rhett has the best refined taste in the world. It's all my doings."
"Well, you were outvoted in the matter."
"That I was."
So she realized their home was a monstrosity and she took full blame on the matter. He was surprised. He made a note to inquire who were the men who outvoted her in the matter of the design of the building, when he heard his wife with unease –
"Harry, you are overstepping, remember yourself."
"I just want to know if you are happy."
He couldn't hear the muffled voices but soon enough he heard him speak again -
"I'm not buying it. You were happy to see me in Boston."
"Yes, I was. But I was desperately lonely. So perhaps by drinking tea with you and walking in the gardens I deceived you. I regret that deeply."
"You haven't done anything wrong."
"Oh, but I have. I should have known better."
"You never once led me to believe that you were interested in me in that manner."
"Harry, a thousand years ago a man acted with me the way I had with you. It tore me and eventually ruined my life. I will refrain coming here as much as I can for a while. Take this time to get back to your senses."
She left the office, as she noticed her husband she kept walking signaling him to follow her. When they were far enough she turned to him – "I don't know how much you've heard, and if you wish, I'll answer anything you ask, but please don't confront him. "
By the end of the day she was in a foul mood. She had argued with several other contractors for slight breaches in their part, and found the entire ordeal mostly vexing. In the afternoon as she entered the house her tone of speech was stern and she was massaging her temples constantly.
"Bad day, mother?"
"Wade, darling, don't come near me or…"
"You'll blow on me?" the boy laughed dismissing her words hugging her and kissing her cheeks with merriment.
"Now, don't you start with me. Have the all servants left?"
"Yes."
"Wonderful" and she rushed upstairs taking two stairs in each stride.
At this point Wade turned to his step-father "She'll be back with her night-gown and a wrapper, that's what she does after rough days."
"You've become quite the man of the house, son." Rhett himself was tired. It bothered him that she protected that Harry person and that he had courted his wife at his absence.
"No, Uncle Rhett. Mother's done that. In every sense. It's good you're home, she's done it, just like when I was little, but she hates it."
'Does she?' Rhett mused on the boy's words when indeed he saw his wife walking slowly down the stairs with a brown wrapper and slippers.
"Darling, I hope you don't mind if I don't dress up for dinner", she apologized to her husband and kissed him.
After dinner she was in her room writing when he entered –
"Writing letters?"
"Em… Not really." She did not lift her head from the small table and kept writing. He finally came behind her and started massaging her back slowly making her stretch from side to side happily "I just write. It helps me pour things out of me."
"Regarding Harry, Rhett," she began but he stopped her.
"Don't. For now I'd rather you don't talk of other men in our room."
She closed her eyes as an idea crept to her head "Only if you tell me of your women, as I asked."
"You are curious, aren't you?"
She kept quite yet smiling. He took her by the hand to their bed and easily took off most of his cloths. He took her close to him in the bed and in a low voice he started talking.
