I have to give oodles of love to my beta-bees, Sareeswfla and Betham for being so damn kickass. Hugs to my UU Brigade who rock so hard they actually want me to drunk dial them about Purina dog food.
SMeyer owns Mary Alice Brandon. I own the Tanglewood folks, Franny, a pitcher of lemonade, and some ice cream. I have more in this chapter but somehow SMeyer still wins the game.
Warning: This chapter contains a graphic sexual scene in which not all parties are consensual. Use your discretion.
Without further ado, here is the first chapter. Enjoy.
.
In 1909 there existed a two-story French colonial-style home at 355 Tanglewood Drive. It was mostly white, with a beautiful wraparound porch that sat on a brick foundation. The house had lay dormant for months after its previous owners had up and left for Tennessee. Edith didn't think much of it, not until the day she looked out her window to find a flurry of activity next door. Men were carrying cabinets and chairs, rolled up rugs and bags of clothing. Edith raised an eyebrow an amusement. She leaned out her bedroom window and whistled to catch the attention of one of the men. "Hey! What's going on down there?"
"New neighbors!" The man gave a grunt and went inside, a box perched on his shoulder.
New people weren't anything…well…new in Biloxi but no one had moved to Tanglewood since the Lopez's five years prior. Edith squealed in excitement, grabbed her jacket, and ran downstairs. Once outside, she stood at the edge of her lawn and peered over to 355. Her eyes were immediately drawn to a young woman she could see through the window.
The woman was pacing back and forth, occasionally reaching out to grab something and then standing back when she was denied whatever she was holding her arms out for. She had her dark hair pulled into a bun, and her dress was loose. After dropping her shoulders and brushing her hair from her eyes, she marched out the door and over to the pile of items cluttering the yard. Edith gave a gasp when she realized the woman was pregnant and another when the woman tried to lift a large chest on her own.
"You shouldn't be doing that!" Edith yelled.
The woman dropped the chest in surprise and looked up.
Edith ran over and stopped just short of running into the woman. She clapped her hands together and let out a squeal. "What's your name?"
"Marianne," the woman answered slowly.
"I s'pose you're the new neighbor? It's a pleasure to meet you but you're damn near ready to pop, so you shouldn't be lifting heavy things, and it's too hot for you to be walking around in the first place. Come, come, we'll have tea and you'll tell me all about yourself."
Edith grabbed Marianne's elbow and led her toward the house next door without another word.
Edith Coutu was a peculiar woman, albeit well-liked by anyone who knew her. She was always excited, talkative, and on many days, her peals of laughter could be heard throughout the street. No one quite knew what she was; most guessed Cajun on account of the accent and the name, but some people could have sworn she came from the Caribbean, perhaps Europe. She had short brown hair, much shorter than was in style in Mississippi those days, and tanned skin that almost hid the sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She was in her late twenties and had been married but her husband had died back in 1903 in a boating accident off the Gulf Coast. Edith had decided to keep the house and live alone ("Convention be damned!"), spending the rest of her days running errands for folks, babysitting, or acting as midwife to those with child. She also seemed to always have a pitcher of sweet tea or lemonade in her kitchen, something folks were grateful for on hot August days like the one Marianne had moved in on.
Edith ushered Marianne past the foyer and into an overstuffed chair in her sitting room. She grabbed an empty glass and her pitcher off the kitchen table and poured her new neighbor a glass of sweet tea. "Here, you go, dear. You must be hotter than the Devil's tail." She watched the young woman take a sip and then gulp half the glass. "It's good, ain't it? I'm Edith, by the way. Edith Coutu."
"Marianne Brandon."
Edith took Marianne's glass from her and set it on the small side table near the couch. She sat down on the chair closest to Mary Ann and smiled. "The whole neighborhood's just been so excited about the new people comin' in. They'll be plumb-tickled when they realize you're having a baby." She glanced warmly at Marianne's tummy. "Is that your first?"
"Oh yes." Marianne blushed. "I think it's going to be a boy."
Edith squinted for a moment and then nodded. "It is definitely a boy."
Marianne let out a laugh. "How can you tell?"
"The way you're carryin' it. I've been a midwife so long, I bet I could guess sex the day after conception."
"Do you have any children of your own?"
Edith smiled as the young woman glanced around the room, likely trying to catch sight of anything child-like. "My husband died before we got to have any."
"Oh." Marianne touched Edith's arm lightly. "I am so sorry to hear that."
"It's alright; it was a long time ago." Edith paused and pulled lightly on the fringe of her hair. "You know, if you're needing a midwife, I'd be happy to help you when your time comes." Edith was happy to have changed the topic as she watched Marianne's face light up.
The two talked about everything under the sun, from baking, to flowers, to what songs they fancied. Most of the talk lingered on the neighbours.
"You've probably already heard about the Pleasants, I reckon." Edith smiled at Marianne's enthusiastic nod. "They're a hardworking family and we mighty proud to have them here, confederates be damned!"
Marianne smiled. "I heard about the Lopez's too. I think it's wonderful."
"Wonderful or not, I should warn you about the DeWitt's. They have twelve children, the youngest being around two years old now."
"Well, what's odd about that?"
"Mr. DeWitt is sixty-five." Edith laughed. "'Poor Mrs. DeWitt' is a regular saying around here."
Their laughter was cut short when someone knocked on the door. "Marianne?"
Edith opened the front door and saw a man she had never seen before.
"Oh, Jimmy!" Marianne exclaimed behind her.
Jimmy Brandon was a handsome man and the smug smile on his lips assured Edith he knew this. He had black hair that was long on the top and a clean-shaven face. His eyes were grey and he had dimples when he smiled. Edith felt her lips part into a grin and she gave a nervous laugh. She smiled as Jimmy mockingly chastised his wife.
"I leave you alone for a few moments and you go bothering the neighbours." Marianne gave a sheepish smile and turned to address Edith. "This is my husband, although I'm sure you've figured that out."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Brandon" Edith reached out her hand and, when Jimmy grabbed it, she felt her grin widen. "Would you like some tea, Mr. Brandon?"
"Call me Jimmy, if you please."
The three went back inside Edith's home and she poured each of them a glass. Edith and Marianne resumed their talk, but Jimmy drank silently, giving Edith a gentle smile at all times. When his glass was empty, Jimmy set his glass on the table and gestured to the door. "We really should be going, dear. We still have matters to attend to and I believe we've inconvenienced Mrs. Coutu enough."
"It's Miss Coutu." Edith cleared her throat and smiled at Marianne. "It's no inconvenience at all. You're welcome here anytime."
###
Edith didn't consider herself much of a gardener, but she had luck with flowers nonetheless; azaleas, lavender and marigolds peppered her backyard. She loved the view from the kitchen and would often leave the house through the backdoor just so she could touch the blossoms as she left to run errands. Every Saturday she cut a few blooms for her kitchen table and sometimes for her friends as well. "It's a little something to brighten up your home," she said.
She was working in her garden when Paul DeWitt dropped by. He knew to find her in the backyard.
Paul was the oldest of the DeWitts, save for his father, Bill, and Edith had always thought he was a charming boy. He was a spitting image of his dad, from the red hair, to the green eyes, to the bump in his nose. He worked the on the docks sorting out the catch of the day which meant he always smelled a little like fish, no matter how much he tried to scrub the scent off.
Paul crouched next to Edith and gave her a shy smile.
"Hello. I-I-I- I came to see if perhaps I could help you with something." Edith smiled at how tongue-tied he seemed to be.
"Ah, offering to help an old lady out, hmm?"
"No! Well, I mean I am. I mean I'm not. You're not old," he finished quietly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small brown envelope. "I got you these."
She took the brown enveloped gingerly and examined it in the sunlight. They were rose seeds.
"Oh, Paul."
"I figured it was better than giving you flowers. I mean flowers that were already cut." The young man coughed. "Er, if you need help planting those…"
Edith felt warm at his gesture and reached out to pat his arm. "You're a sweet boy, Paul."
"I'm not a boy," He cut in quickly. "I'm not a boy at all." Paul stood up quickly and brushed his hair from his face.
Edith sighed as Paul ran off.
Several minutes later, as she was pruning her azaleas, a shadow fell over her.
"Forget something, Paul?"
"Who's Paul?" She shielded her eyes with her hands and looked up.
Jimmy Brandon was standing over her, holding her cast iron skillet.
"Come to clobber me, huh?" Edith quipped.
Jimmy raised an eyebrow then looked down at his hand. When he saw the skillet, he began to laugh. Edith had never heard his laughter before; it was low and gravelly, sending a small tingle up her fingers to her chest. She found herself reaching out to touch him then swiftly pulled her hand back. James cleared his throat and held out the skillet.
"Marianne asked me to return this to you and to thank you for teaching her how to make corn bread. It was very good."
Edith smiled and took the skillet out of his hand. "It was my pleasure."
The sun was bearing down on them and Edith brushed a bead of sweat off her forehead. She stood up and gestured to the house. "Would you like a glass of lemonade before you go back? It's mighty warm out and, though I knew you just live right next door, you still came all this way..."
Jimmy hesitated but Edith didn't give him a chance to say no. "I'll be right back with a glass!"
She was inside the house and already taking glasses out of the cupboard when James walked into her kitchen.
Edith paused and nervously rubbed her hands on her apron. "You came inside," was all she said.
"I hope it's not a bother. I just thought I'd save you the trouble of having to go back outside," he said.
Edith nodded once and then turned around to scoop some ice from the ice box. A blush ran across her face and an odd feeling settled into the pit of her stomach. She shouldn't have a married man alone in her kitchen.
Nonsense, I had Bill DeWitt in the kitchen just last week.
Yes, but he was just borrowing sugar and he's almost as old as the Holy Grail.
Edith shook her head to clear her thoughts and set the chipped ice on a tray on the table. She grabbed her pitcher of lemonade from the counter it had been sitting out on. "This has been out a bit so it'll need plenty-" She gasped when she felt something cold against the back of her neck. She hadn't seen Jimmy pick up the piece of ice; he was running it gently up and down the nape of her neck.
"Jimmy?"
"You seemed warm." He lifted his hand from her neck. Edith felt the water drip down the back of her collar and follow the gentle curve of her spine. She gave an involuntary shiver. "Jimmy," she repeated. "We should maintain a certain level of formality between us. I know you understand."
Jimmy silently stepped back and tossed the piece of ice onto the table. He let out a low chuckle. "Then I supposed you should let me formally invite you to my home."
"Excuse me?" Edith turned around and realized Jimmy was wearing a smirk on his face.
"Marianne and I are having a bit of a soirée the day after tomorrow to get to know our new neighbours." He rocked back onto his heels.
Edith swiped roughly at the back of her neck. The cool of the ice was quickly replaced with the heat of her hand.
"We'd like you to come," Jimmy finished. "Will you?"
Absolutely not, she thought.
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she said.
James gave a smile. "Then it's settled." He gave her a wave and made his way out the back door. Edith let out a sharp exhale and sank down into the nearest chair, rubbing the back of her neck. The coolness was completely gone now. Something felt off but looking around the kitchen held no answers. The only thing out of place was the tray of ice melting rapidly on the table.
###
Everyone seemed to be at the Brandon's home two days later: Elizabeth and Cormack Liddell, Carolynn and Kent Thomas, the eight oldest members of the DeWitt family, and Missy and Terrence Pleasants were all in the sitting room when Edith arrived. Marianne gave her a huge smile and rushed forward to envelop her in a hug. "Oh, I am so glad you made it! You look gorgeous."
Edith had worn a long sage colored princess-cut dress with brown trim. Marianne was dressed in a pink gown that reached mid-calf.
"It's two different dresses I sewed together," Marianne whispered in Edith's ear while pointing at herself.
Edith laughed and grasped her friend's hands. "Well, it looks absolutely darling on you."
"Edith." Jimmy was standing behind his wife, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "It means so much to us that you decided to spend the evening with us." His grey eyes seemed to be sparkling. Edith swiftly averted her gaze and cleared her throat.
"Thank you," she answered quickly. "I better get to greetin' the other guests."
The party started off with lively discussion over cigarettes and brandy. At some point Paul leaned over and told Edith she looked lovely which made everyone whoop and holler. Edith was grateful when someone chose that exact moment to put on the phonograph. A lively number started up and Missy brought the conversation to halt by letting out a cheer and grabbing her husband's arm.
"Terry, I love this song! Let's dance!" Missy clapped her hands and grabbed her husband.
Following suit, Paul bowed down in front of Edith and extended his hand. "If I may have this dance, Ma'am?"
"Oh, why not?" Edith laughed and stood up. The two spun out into the living room floor and were soon joined by the rest of the guests. When a slow song came on two songs later, Edith excused herself from Paul and took a seat on a large wingback chair. She was slowly fanning herself when she felt eyes on her.
Jimmy and Marianne were close together, rocking from side to side. Jimmy was mouthing the words from the songs but instead of looking at his wife, he was staring at Edith intensely.
I care not for the stars that shine,
I dare not hope to ever be thine
I only know I love you
Love me and the world is mine.
The heat crawled over her body slowly, resting just between her legs. She pressed her lips together and pretended to be fascinated by the hem of her dress.
When the song finished, Edith got up and walked over to the couple. She tapped Marianne lightly on the shoulder without looking at Jimmy.
"I'm sorry to run out on such a lovely party but I think I'll be going now."
Marianne frowned and placed her hand on Edith's arm. "Why, dear?"
Because I can't stop thinking about your husband.
"I'm starting to feel a little out of sorts. I may have underestimated the effects of the brandy." She forced out a sigh.
"Darling," Jimmy interjected while placing his hand on Marianne's shoulder, "Edith should go home if she's not feeling well."
Marianne bit her bottom lip and then gave a small nod. Edith exhaled in relief. She quickly kissed the other women on the cheek, waved goodbye to the men, and grabbed her shawl.
She was already down the porch steps when she heard the door open and close behind her.
"Marianne didn't want you walking home alone."
"I live next door, Jimmy."
"I know."
Edith didn't bother turning around. She walked quickly to her front door and unlocked it. She heard Jimmy follow her inside and she huffed. "I'm home now."
A light touch ran across her shoulders. "That's exactly how I feel." Jimmy's voice was low in her ears and it reminded her of honey. She sighed and leaned her head back. She felt his lips skim across her jaw and the soft touch made the space between her legs ache.
"Want to know something? The first time I saw you I thought you were the most beautiful thing…" His right hand stayed on her neck while his left started caressing her side.
When his hands wandered across her stomach, Edith's eyes flew open and she abruptly pulled away.
"Your wife is pregnant." She blurted out and took a few more steps back. "We can't do this."
Jimmy shook his head and held out his hands. "I don't lo-"
"Don't say that!" Edith fought to keep her voice down but the panic was winning out. "Don't you dare start thinkin' like that, Jimmy. It' ain't right. It ain't right for you to even be in here right now and if anyone were to see you here I'd never be ale to show my face around here. And think of what it would do to Marianne!"
Jimmy placed a finger on her lips to shush her. "You're beautiful."
Edith grabbed the hand against her face with both of hers. She placed a kiss on his palm before lowering it to his side. "If we stop here, there's nothing to hide," she said.
Jimmy groaned and pulled his hand away. "Is this it then, Edith?"
Edith opened her mouth to speak but couldn't find the words. Instead she nodded once; it was all she had strength to do.
He stared at her for a few moments and then quickly turned around. "I'm sorry if I did anything untoward, Ms. Coutu." He opened the door and walked it, closing it silently behind him.
Edith walked over to the door and locked it, leaning her forehead against the frame. I did the right thing, she thought. Yet somewhere between her ribs she felt a hollow space and she couldn't help but wonder if it belonged to the man that had just walked out her door.
###
Things seemed fine again for a while. Edith was at the Brandons' house nearly every day at Marianne's request and, while she mostly avoided Jimmy, she put on a good show when he was around. She smiled at the right times, laughed at the right times, and nodded when spoken to. She never let herself look into his eyes or crave the warmth of his breath ghosting over her skin. Sometimes she felt his gaze linger on her a moment too long. Once he quickly ran his fingertips across her hand while handing her a dish during another dinner party. It startled her so much she nearly dropped the gumbo. She laughed it off, explaining she had weak wrists. Paul had instantly grabbed the dish and taken a moment to examine Edith's hands. Everyone smiled warmly at the display except Jimmy; Edith noticed he frowned and looked away.
###
It was a warm September night when Edith was awoken by the loud banging on her front door. At first she thought a storm had rolled in; she reached out her window to close the shutters but noticed it was clear out. Suddenly knowing what the knocks meant, she threw on her housecoat. "I'm a-comin'," she hollered, grabbing a large carpet bag out of her closet and running towards the foyer. When she threw open her front door, Jimmy nearly fell in. He looked haggard and panicked, his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His usually neat hair was sticking up in all directions, most of it falling into his eyes.
"The baby is coming," he rasped out.
Edith pushed past him and ran down the porch steps and onto the sidewalk. She was nearly to the house when she realized Jimmy wasn't following. She looked back and saw him still leaning against her door.
"Jimmy!" She yelled. "Do you want to see your baby boy or not?" That seemed to wake him up and he rushed to catch up with her.
Before they even made it to the Brandons' door they could hear the screams. "Oh! Oh God, help me!"
Edith ran inside and looked around. "How long has it been?"
Jimmy blinked a few times and Edith shook his shoulder. "Focus, Jimmy. When did she start going into labor?"
"I don't know. Not long. I went to get Mrs. Liddell immediately …" Edith began climbing up the stairs, turning briefly to hold her hand up. "You wait here. You ain't gonna be much help up there." Edith continued up the stairs and into the bedroom.
Mrs. Liddell was indeed there, wiping Marianne's brow and whispering soothing words. She saw Edith and let out a shaky breath. "Thank goodness you're here."
Edith put down her bag, walked over to the bed and took a peek underneath the sheet laid over Marianne's legs. She was much farther along than Edith expected.
"Elizabeth, how long have you been here?"
"Ten minutes, perhaps, but it wasn't this bad when I got here."
Edith nodded. "This is going to be a fast birth, like Missy's second one." The two women took turns wiping the sweat of Marianne's brow and whispering encouraging words. Marianne never stopped her screaming. Two hours later, Edith felt under the sheet again.
"Elizabeth, she's close. You'll have to help me get her standin'."
The two women each grabbed one of Marianne's arms and eased her into sitting up.
"I can't!" she sobbed. "I can't stand. It hurts too much!"
"The gravity helps, honey," Elizabeth explained while smoothing the younger woman's hair. "Come now and try to stand."
Marianne managed to sit up but then suddenly began screaming and writhing on the bed. Elizabeth paled and grabbed her shoulders. Edith let go of Marianne altogether and settled down at the foot of the bed. "Forget the standing," she yelled over Marianne. "The baby needs to come out now."
"Edith, is the baby breached? Missy's births weren't this bad, neither was Carolynn's…"
Edith didn't say anything. Her hands were under the sheets, her eyes closed. She felt the baby and knew it was time.
"Push, Marianne!"
Marianne shook her head. "I can't. I can't. Please just help me."
"Damn it, I can't do a thing if you don't help me get this baby out of you!" Suddenly Edith felt something brush her fingertips. "That's it, dear, push!"
"You're doing brilliantly," Elizabeth cooed.
Marianne locked her knees and gave a loud cry. A few moments later, it was over. Edith looked down at her arms and let out a shaky breath. "You're done, honey," Edith said quietly.
Marianne gave a deep sigh and fell back against the pillows. "Oh, thank the lord." She gave a weak smiled and looked over at Edith. "Is it a boy, Edith? Or do I have a little girl?" Edith looked up at Marianne then. There were tears in her eyes; she felt them roll down her cheeks and past her mouth. She slowly shook her head.
It was a boy. It had been a boy. Edith couldn't see until it was out that the baby was a sickly shade of blue or that it's eyes were wide open and glossy. She tried to say something, anything, but her throat felt raw. It was Elizabeth who let out a sob and said the words no mother wants to hear. "I am so sorry."
Marianne began mumbling something under her breath. Her whimpers grew louder until they were agonizing screams. Neither woman even tried to console her.
Edith felt someone to her right and looked up. Jimmy stood in the doorway for a few minutes, his eyes only on the tiny figure in her hands. He walked over, ignoring his wife's cries, and gingerly took the dead boy into his arms.
"Please leave us," he said quietly.
Elizabeth nodded and fled quickly. Edith lingered, pausing to wipe her hands on the bed sheets and then again to grab her things. She gave Marianne a kiss on the forehead; the woman had stopped screaming and was now whimpering again.
Edith turned to Jimmy. "If either of you need anything at all..."
"Just leave."
Edith nodded and left the house at 355 Tanglewood broken.
###
There was both a baptism and a burial for James Brandon II. Edith attended the latter, wrapping her arms around the grieving mother upon her arrival. Nearly all the neighborhood women were present, stuffed into Biloxi's small cemetery, and offering their own kind of encouragement. "I lost my first," Sis LeMaine said, "and I have three little ones now."
Missy nodded. "The Lord has his plans, don't He?" The woman agreed gravely. Who wanted to go against the Lord, after all?
After the funeral, Marianne didn't leave the house as much as she used to, and Jimmy was rarely seen. Edith still kept her ritual of going over to the Brandon house for lunch and made sure the young woman was taking care of herself. Some days she would make hot tea for the pair and others she'd bring over her big iron pot and make grits or chowder. For two months they would eat in an uncomfortable silence, neither woman quite knowing what to say.
"Where's Jimmy been?" Edith asked one day in November.
"Working," Marianne answered quietly. It was the most she'd spoken since the funeral.
It wasn't anything specific that caused a change; Marianne was simply pouring herself a glass of lemonade, as she had many times before, when she broke down and started to sob. Edith was in shock for a moment but quickly put down her own glass and pulled Marianne's head into her lap. "There, there, cherie." She began soothing back her hair. "It takes time but this too shall pass. You'll be ready to try for another child in no time."
"It's not only about the baby, Edith. I failed as a mother and now I'm failing as a wife." Marianne took a deep breath and sat up slowly. "I just can't do this anymore, Edith. Jimmy is like a ghost these days. He's never home and when he is… He touches my arm or kisses my cheek and I immediately start to cry."
Edith nodded and pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket, offering it to Marianne. "Your husband is dealing with the grief in his own way. Everyone does. He'll come around and things will be right as rain, you'll see."
"He can't come around, Edith. He's just a ghost." Marianne whispered.
It was the second day of the new year when Edith was visited by that very ghost. She had heard a noise, and after putting on her housecoat and grabbing her heaviest pan, peeked through the glass frame on her back door.
"Edith?" This ghost knew her by name.
Edith put down her frying pan and flung her back door open. Jimmy was standing at the edge of her azalea garden, jacket folded over his arm. He looked pale in the moonlight, much paler than she had ever seen. "Jimmy? What are you doing here?" She rushed down her porch steps and stood at the stoop. The dark of the night made it seem reasonable to whisper. "Jimmy, is something wrong? Is it Marianne?"
He took his hat off and tossed it to the ground next to him. "Everything seems wrong, Edith. We're supposed to be celebrating and…everything seems wrong." He took a step closer to her and she could see the dark circles under his eyes. His shirt was undone in two places and untucked. He looked like he hadn't shaven in days.
Edith walked down her steps and walked over until she was two feet away from him. She tightened her coat and then gestured inside the house.
"Jimmy, it's freezing out here. Come inside and we can talk about what's bothering you."
"I'm not sure what to do…You said that if I needed anything…"
Edith nodded and clucked her tongue. "Why yes, I did, and I meant it. This is a horrible time for the both of you and if there's anything I could do, I -"
Jimmy suddenly lunged forward and placed his hands on the sides of Edith's face. He pressed his lips hungrily to hers. He wasn't kind or gentle in his kisses, just desperate. Edith struggled in his hands and tried pushing herself away. She began to panic when she felt herself falling backwards. James pulled his lips away and began biting his way down her neck.
"Jimmy, stop this nonsense. Your wife-" A firm hand covered her mouth. She was on the ground now with James moving on top of her, flipping up the bottom of her coat and nightdress. She heard rather than saw him unfasten his pants, his free hand pressed to her mouth the entire time.
Please, she thought, not like this.
But it was like that.
Edith gave a high-pitched cry when he pushed into her, rough and unyielding. It felt like she was ripping in two at her most private seam. She closed her eyes tightly and tried to think of something, anything. Please please please. She could feel insects, ants maybe, crawling across her ankle and something scratching her neck. She could smell the faint scent of azaleas, the closest bloom just inches from her nose, and the stink of sweat from the man on top of her. She could hear the Dicketts' tomcat meowing near the trashcans and the grunts coming from somewhere above her. James was mumbling something quickly; it sounded like a prayer that mirrored hers. Please please please…
The entire incident lasted only a few minutes. Jimmy gave two final thrusts and collapsed, spent and trembling, on top of Edith. She stayed still for a while, opening her eyes just in time to see him stand up. He fastened his pants and grabbed his jacket and hat from the ground.
"Edith," he whispered, "I'm so sorry." He had begun to cry.
Edith cut him off by sitting up, grabbing the nearest item, a rock, and hurling it at his head. It missed him by near centimeters. She grabbed another one. "You get off my property right now or I swear I won't miss."
"Edith…" His hands hovered over her body.
"Two seconds." Her voice wasn't as shaky as she felt.
James frowned but nodded. "I'm so sorry," he repeated and stalked away quickly, cutting through the Dicketts' yard to the street.
Edith dropped the rock and got up on shaky legs. She ran into the house, locking the doors and shutters behind her.
The next morning, Edith wanted to pretend nothing had happened. She got dressed, pinned her hair, pulled on her gardening gloves and went out to trim her prized flowers. When the smell of the azaleas hit her nose, however, she suddenly became sick and found herself into heaving over the flower beds, a sickly white froth spilling from her mouth and sinking into the ground.
"Oh God," she sputtered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She didn't think twice and began snapping at the bushes wildly with her shears. An hour later the bushes were nothing but twigs and blossoms littering the sidewalk. When Edith looked up from throwing the last bits into the pile, Missy Pleasant was standing across the street staring curiously at her. She held up a hand, making Edith wait, while she crossed the street.
"Edith," she said, gently, "what have you done to your flowers?"
Edith shrugged and waved her hand dismissively. "It's time for something new in my garden, Missy. Maybe some roses, you know?" A wind picked up then and scattered some of blossoms down the street. Edith watched them float away and then ran inside her house without another word.
The nausea returned three weeks later, a powerful churn that not even her mama's chicken soup could calm. She didn't think much of it, choosing to blame bad food or perhaps a grippe going around. It was when she was taking a bath two weeks after that she noticed the slight paunch of her belly. She counted backwards over and over until she was sure she couldn't be wrong. She instantly drained the large clawed tub and dressed herself slowly, mechanically, only vaguely noticing the flash of colors as she pulled cloth over her skin. She climbed down her stairs, went out her front door, and walked up the street. When she reached the house, it took her ten minutes to force herself to knock.
"Edith!" Marianne exclaimed. The younger woman gave her a lingering hug and inhaled deeply. "I haven't seen you around here in so long! Come on come in." Edith let herself be pulled into the home and began sliding off her coat. She handed it to Marianne who smiled and pushed her toward the sitting room.
"Jimmy, look who's come to visit!"
"It's not Aunt Gertrude, is it?" Jimmy was sitting on the plush wingback chair, reading the Biloxi Herald, but looking toward the door with a sly smile on his face. When he saw Edith, his face dropped and he moved to get up.
"Oh," Edith said with a shaky laugh, "Don't move on account of me."
Jimmy stilled and stayed perched on the seat like a statue. Edith saw him search her face with his eyes but she gave a slight shake of the head. Marianne entered the room, having hung up Edith's coat, and gave her another hug. "Oh Edith, we have so much to catch up on!" Marianne patted her friend on the shoulder. "I'll go get us some tea and we can talk about it all." She excused herself and went into the kitchen.
When Marianne was out of earshot she turned to Jimmy. He was still staring at her, his mouth hanging open. He closed it and cleared his throat.
"I didn't think I would ever see you in my home again," he finally said.
"Jimmy, we're in trouble."
In 1910, "trouble" was a whispered word. It meant only a few things, none of them good. Between two lovers it meant only one thing. Though Edith shuddered to consider Jimmy her lover, the trouble was still the same.
The familiar churning returned and Edith placed a hand on her stomach. Jimmy got up and walked over to her. She cringed and braced for him to strike her, to yell, to tell her to leave. She wasn't expecting the joy that sparked behind the grey of his eyes.
"It's mine." Behind the caution in his voice was a hint of happiness. "Tell me it's mine."
"It can only be yours," Edith whispered.
Jimmy opened his mouth to speak but his words were cut off by the cacophony of breaking dishes and a sob behind her. His eyes widened and Edith felt a chill run down her spine.
Not like this. Not now. But it was like this and it was now. They had forgotten where they were.
"How could you?"
Edith turned around just in time to see Marianne crumple to the floor.
By the time the doctor arrived to the Brandons' home, the entire neighborhood was buzzing with Marianne's sudden illness. Edith shooed people away, letting only the doctor in.
"You best go home," she quietly told the women standing around the Brandon porch. "We don't know what's wrong and I suppose all Marianne wants to do is rest."
Once everyone was gone, she down sat in the sitting room doing and undoing the top button of her collar repeatedly. Jimmy came down to talk to her but she quickly cut him off and told him to go be with his wife.
"She doesn't want me up there." He explained.
"Well, I don't want you down here."
He sat down next to her anyway. After a moment she sighed and leaned back on the couch, letting her head rest on the cushion behind her.
"I made a lot of mistakes," Jimmy whispered, "But I love you. Just say the word and I'll leave her."
Edith laughed bitterly in response.
When the doctor came out moments later, Edith quickly jumped up and away from Jimmy. The doctor didn't notice. He gave a quick speech about nothing seeming wrong and that perhaps Marianne was exhausted. He asked if there was a possibility she was sick from pregnancy and Edith wanted to scream.
Yes, doctor. I s'pose she's sick from mine.
She couldn't take it anymore and ran up the stairs, saying she wanted to check up on her friend. When she got to the bedroom door, it was closed so she gave a timid knock.
"Marianne? It's me, Edith."
A quiet voice asked her to come in.
Marianne was lying in bed, the same bed she had given birth on months ago, with the sheets pulled up to her chin. She looked exhausted, pale, and her face held nothing of the vibrant girl that had moved to Biloxi less than a year ago.
"Oh Marianne," Edith choked back a sob, "I can explain everything."
"You did this to me. This is your fault entirely," Marianne snapped while staring at her.
Edith shook her head. "I didn't mean for this to happen," she started.
Marianne held up a hand to shush her. "You took my boy away from me."
"I didn't take Jimmy away from you. He's right downstairs on pins and needles-"
"I was talking about my son."
Edith felt the room spin. She almost ran back down to get the doctor, to tell him Marianne had gone mad. "What are you talking about?"
Marianne sneered and sat up on the bed. "You took him away from me Edith. You, Jimmy, and your sin. You think I was blind? I saw the way you looked at him from the very start. You got his attention with your 'poor widow' act." Marianne let out a strangled moan. "You've taken everything."
"Your baby was sick, Marianne. There was nothing I could do for him. And as for Jimmy? I swear if I told everyone what he did to me--"
"You're not going to tell a soul."
Edith blinked then. She had been so sure Marianne would tell the world about the betrayal, about the bastard child growing in Edith's belly. She felt a pain in her chest, in that familiar space between her ribs that she now knew love occupied.
"Marianne, what are you going to do?"
"You took my baby away from me. It's only right I take yours."
"No." Edith felt her shoulders begin to shake.
Marianne sat up on the bed and moved to her knees. Her face seemed to light up, almost happy with the ideas she was spouting. It made Edith feel sick.
"It won't be bad, I swear to you. I'll love it and raise it as my own, mine and Jimmy's! He'll love it because it's really his, and if it's his it's a part of me too." She fisted the sheets and smiled. "The Lord has his plans, do you remember that? This is his plan."
"Absolutely not, Marianne. Absolutely not." She's gone mad. Edith backed up until she felt the bedroom wall against her back and still it wasn't enough. She wanted to melt through into some space where she felt safe.
Marianne had begun to cry and was pleading. "But Edith, it's so perfect. We'll let people think this illness was just early pregnancy ills. We can go up north say it's for the better hospitals and no one here will ever know. They will never know!"
Jimmy burst in then, eyes wide, and out of breath. "That is enough!"
Marianne and Jimmy began arguing and Edith used their distraction to make her exit. Missy was standing on the porch when she flung open the front door. Her smile fell and she immediately reached out to pull Edith into a hug. "Is everything alright up there?"
Edith felt ashamed, angry, scared, and hurt from the stabbing pain in her chest. She wanted to give a million answers, to tell someone everything, but instead she buried her face into Missy's ruffled collar and answered, "I don't know."
For days Edith had dreams of the devil crawling into her room and taking her hands. Each time she was left alive but with no way to care for her baby and it died each and every time.
During the fourth night of nightmares, she woke up gasping for air, sheets and pillows on the floor, her hands grabbing at her hair. In this dream the devil hadn't taken her hands at all; it merely followed Edith, slowly draining the life from everything around her until her garden was overrun with black weeds and the baby in her arms was just a lifeless pale doll with a permanent ghastly smile.
It was just after dawn on the fifth day when Edith repeated her walk over to the Brandon's. She let herself in, finding the couple sitting at their kitchen table, a tense silence hanging in the air. Both looked up in surprise and Edith spoke before either of them could say a word.
"If you promise to love this baby, it's yours."
###
The train home seemed to take longer than it should have. Edith had napped, read the newspaper, and knitted on the train, but it wasn't enough to pass the time. She was anxious until the train stopped at the Seashore station and she was able to hail a cab home. Her body still felt sore and she felt frail. She realized her legs were shaking slightly. Dear God, I hope she's doing well.
Edith shook her head as if the act would physically keep unwanted thoughts out of her mind. I'm not going to think about her…She tried to think of other things instead:
If her house was the same as when she left it.
If Terrence had entered the regatta this year.
If Missy had made that slipcover she had spoken about for months.
If Paul had found himself a nice girl.
When her cab pulled up to her house she was surprised to find how different it looked. There was a fresh coat of paint on her home and new rose bushes lined the front porch. The note tacked on her door explained.
Just a few little things to brighten up your home – Paul
Edith put her bag away and then went outside to examine the bushes. She pushed her face into them lightly, careful of thorns, and inhaled deeply. They smelled like love.
All the neighbours seemed to notice her arrival at once and, when she turned around, there were no fewer then five women in front of her house. Edith took a deep breath and, after quick pleasantries, waved the women away. "The trip has me tired. Perhaps we can catch up tomorrow."
"But where's Marianne? Where's the baby?" Sis asked.
The Brandons and the baby were still in Boston; Edith had simply been sent home when she wasn't needed any longer.
"The baby's too young to travel still. They'll be here in two weeks." She replied with a forced smile. "I apologize but I'm so very tired." The gaggle nodded in unison and dispersed minus one.
Missy Pleasant was persistent and held up what appeared to be a slice of pound cake and a pitcher of lemonade. "Now, I reckon you're beat," she started, "but a little cake never hurt anybody, did it? Have a piece and you can tell me all about your trip!"
Edith let out a groan and shook her head. "I really missed you, Missy, but I really should rest. Perhaps we could-"
Missy pushed her way inside and closed the door behind her. "I'll just set these down for you and then go on my way." Edith nodded and quietly followed her into the kitchen. She watched her neighbor put the items away and then stall.
"Honey," Missy began after a few moments, "I brought the newspaper."
Edith raised an eyebrow. Why would she do that? She let out a shaky breath and sank down into one of the kitchen chairs. "Oh goodness, Missy. Did something happen when I was gone? Are the DeWitts okay? The Pleasants?"
Missy sat down next to her and pushed the paper across the table. She took Edith's hand in hers. "Eighth page, third paragraph. I didn't think you should be alone."
Edith grabbed the copy of the herald and turned to the dog-eared page. She read silently, pursing her lips. Her eyes scanned the page once, twice before falling on the three simple sentences.
::Notable Births::
Congratulations to Jimmy and Marianne Brandon who welcomed their first child on October 5th. The bouncing baby girl weighed 7lbs 2 ounces and has black hair and grey eyes. She is named Mary Alice, a spin on her lovely mother's name.
All the tears Edith had held back in Boston, held back the past nine months, came forward with such a force she began to shake. She dropped the newspaper on the table and wrapped her arms around her belly, trying to feel for any glimpse of the life she had held inside her. There was none. "Missy," she wailed, "I didn't know her name. They wouldn't tell me her name."
She felt arms around her and heard a soft voice in her ear. "It's okay, darling. Everything will be okay."
Edith wasn't so sure.
.
*hides from pitchforks* I know, I know! There was barely any Mary Alice in there. But, trust me, this chapter was critical. She'll be in the next one.
I don't like giving away plot but I will say right now that Mary is completely safe around Jimmy. He made some extraordinarily bad choices but he is neither a serial rapist nor a pedophile. There will be more on him later.
Visit the profile to see some cool pictures and to listen to the song in this chapter, Love Me and the World is Mine. Also, I'm a judge in Les Femmes Noir! More info and a link on my profile.
Reviews get a teaser and some freshly made cornbread.