Broken China Doll
by: pandorabox82
Chapter One: Lyrics on Postcards"Mama was the first of her family to go to college. She had received a music scholarship and jumped at the chance to get out of her little village. Everyone expected her to major in music, and so they were stunned when she decided to become a nurse. Oh, she still kept up with her music, but there was a fire in her that drove her to healing others.
"She met Father her freshman year and they fell in love. Both were in Chorus, and seeing each other so often drew them together. Soon, they were seeing each other outside of class, and one thing led to another…"
"Marigold, I realise that we've only been seeing each other for the last six months, but the summer is fast approaching, and I don't want to go home without asking you this." Matthew bent down on one knee and pulled out a black velvet box. Opening it, he asked, "Marigold Boyd, will you marry me?"
Tears sparkled in Marigold's eyes as she replied. "Yes, Matthew, I'll marry you!"
Quickly, he removed the ring from its bed of crushed silk and placed it on her finger. Then he stood and pulled her into a tight embrace, his lips pressed firm to hers. "I love you," he murmured against her.
"And I, you, Matthew"
As soon as her parents found out about their plans, a whirlwind of activity began. While not totally for their daughter marrying so young, they were happy she had found someone who loved her, and whom she loved back.
Both Marigold and Matthew decided that they wanted a quick wedding, they wanted to be together. So, the preparations were made for an August wedding. Both agreed that a small, intimate, ceremony would suit them best. Mainly family and a few friends were invited, and they were married by an old friend of the Evans family.
Marigold had looked resplendent in her gown, with the long train that she'd desired since primary school. Matthew had been coaxed into a kilt, and though he was a bit uncomfortable in it, seeing his Mari coming towards him, looking radiantly happy, erased all feelings of discomfort.
The next thing they both knew the minister was saying a blessing over them and then pronouncing them man and wife. Together, they walked to the back of the sanctuary, the wedding party following them, and stood there to greet their guests. Finally, the last one was through the line and they were able to leave for the luncheon being served at the Evans's home.
Time still seemed to be flying, and they were soon on their way to the airport, getting on a plane bound for Majorca, where they were going to spend the week before heading back for the next semester. They hardly noticed the press of people getting in their last holiday of the summer, so engrossed in each other they were. The hotel that her parents had gotten them a room in was beautiful and added to the ambiance of the past few hours.
They ordered room service, and while they were waiting for it to arrive, they unpacked. As Marigold opened her suitcase, she flushed with embarrassment. She'd known her best friend had threatened to pack the silk negligee, which she'd bought her, when Marigold wasn't looking and somehow, she had. It wasn't that Marigold had a bad body, she just didn't like the exposure of something so sheer, even if it was ankle-length and for her husband.
She was so focused on the negligee that she didn't hear Matthew come up behind her. What snapped her out of her reverie were his hands reaching around her waist to pull her close to him and his lips on her neck. Marigold shivered as he asked her about the thin piece of silk that lay on top of the rest of her things.
"Oh, it's nothing, just Cara's idea of a joke."
"Well, you are going to wear it tonight, aren't you?"
"I don't know, luv. It's so revealing."
"That's what's great about it. After all, we are married now. You don't have to be ashamed to let me see you."
"I suppose you're right, Matthew. But I still feel uncomfortable." Her words were interrupted by a knock on their door, announcing the arrival of the dinner he had ordered. He opened the door and let the young man in. The boy quickly set up the meal on the table on their veranda. After lighting a candle, he waited for Matthew to pay him. Matthew did and also gave him a large tip.
"If you need anything else, sir, just call down to the front desk and ask for Alan," he said as he left the room.
"I'll be certain to do that," Matthew replied as he shut the door. Marigold had taken a seat at the table during the exchange, and Matthew joined her. Silently, they ate the delicious food, a sense of nervous anticipation filling the air around them. Finally, they were finished, and as Matthew stacked the dishes on the tray left behind, Marigold grabbed the negligee and went into the loo to change.
As she looked in the full-length mirror, she saw the blush that stained her cheeks, as well as most everything else about her. She desperately wanted something else to wear, but a part of her wanted to please her husband, and she knew that by wearing this wisp of cloth, she would. Screwing up her courage, she opened the door and stepped out into the room.
Matthew had dimmed the lights and lit a few candles and had placed them on the nightstand next to the bed. He stood up from the chair he'd been sitting in and pulled her into a tight embrace, fervently kissing her. He maneuvered her to the bed, and the last thing she remembered was the sound of the delicate silk ripping.
The next morning, Marigold woke up feeling sore. She blushed as some of the night's activities flashed through her head. Struggling to sit up in bed, she felt pain in places she never knew she had. Matthew was woken up by her movements, and he smiled lazily at her. She smiled back, but it was forced. 'If I'd known this is what happened on a wedding night, I would never have gotten married,' she thought. Throwing off the covers, she slipped out of bed, then padded slowly to the bathroom. She stepped into the shower and turned the water on full blast. As the water poured down over her, she began to softly cry. In that moment, she vowed that she would do whatever she had to do to ensure that Matthew would never touch her like that again.
When they returned home, school took up a lot of their time, and the job that Matthew worked at ensured there wasn't much time left for the two of them to be together. About October, Marigold began to get sick every morning and she knew she'd found a way to ensure he wouldn't touch her for at least seven months, if not longer. She scheduled an appointment with her doctor, who confirmed her thoughts – she was pregnant, and most likely due mid to late May.
Marigold was relieved to hear that the baby would be born after the end of the semester, and went home to tell Matthew the good news about the baby, and the more wonderful news about the fact they couldn't be physical until after the baby was born. Gleefully, she told him that the doctor had said she was healthy, but since she was so small, he didn't want her endangering the baby unnecessarily. Matthew took this all in stride, not even minding the end of his intimacy with his wife, or so it seemed to Marigold. She just thought he was overwhelmed with happiness that he was going to be a father.
Lily was born on 16 May, 1960. Marigold was pleased that she had a daughter, and named her in the family tradition. Both she and Matthew had decided she should take a semester off from school to get Lily started right in life. When Marigold returned to school in the winter of 1961, it was to an extremely reduced course load. She was loath to leave Lily alone, so Matthew had decided to take a job at his father's factory and look after Lily on the two evenings that Marigold had class.
Matthew also became insistent about claiming his husbandly rights, as he termed it. Marigold knew she had to let him, as he was her husband. It came to no surprise to her when she found out in October of 1961 that she was once again pregnant. Again, she relished it as alone time for her, time where she wouldn't have to endure his touch upon her body. She never sensed the frustration he felt at not being able to love his wife completely.
On 17 May, 1962, Petunia was born, looking for all the world like Marigold, except for the hair, which was Matthew's. Lily loved her baby sister, and helped Marigold as much as she could, which wasn't a whole lot, being only two years old. This time, Marigold took longer to recuperate, as she had had to have a hysterectomy after Petunia's birth. She'd been hemorrhaging terribly, and the doctors had told Matthew that was the only way to save her. Reluctantly, he had agreed, and their family was fixed to the four of them.
"Vernon and Dudley will be home soon. I'll tell you more tomorrow."
"But you didn't really tell me anything, Aunt Petunia, except that Grandfather Evans gave up college for his family, Grandmother Evans was frigid, and that it was only you and Mum. Can't you tell me more, now?"
"Not today, Boy. Vernon would be very upset if he found us like this. Besides, I need to begin supper. Run out and work in the garden for a bit. It's been a warm day, and I know my roses could do with some water."
"Yes, Aunt Petunia," he sullenly replied, stalking out into the garden, his brain mulling over the story his aunt had begun to tell him. Then it hit him; she was laying the background for something big. She'd made an emphasis about his grandmother's coldness to his grandfather. 'Could she really be implying, no, she couldn't. I'm certain I'll find out more tomorrow.'