Chapter 3

The blustery winter weather continued for the next few days, even though the sky was clear, blue and sunny, the chilly winds kept the city's inhabitants in woolen scarves and hats. Scarlett had got through the last four days without her brandy at night, but on the fifth night she needed it, bad.

She hadn't left the house, as she oversaw the closing up of the second floor and packed her trunks for Tara. Scarlett had rushed to pack her most needed items, hoping to be able to rest and confide in Mammy. She didn't plan on attending parties or visiting.

Her nerves were so bad without her brandy, she had dropped her brush midway, and let out a loud, "God damnit!" that caused Prissy, Pork and Jonah rushing to her room, so sure their mistress had finally cracked.

Looking at the doorway, Scarlett pulled her wrapper around her neck and spat, "Get the Hell outta here, you idiots!"

The door had quietly closed, and Scarlett had berated herself for being so ugly. She knew the warm rush of a few glasses of brandy in the quiet dark of her room would settle her nerves. That evening, it was her usual two glasses, but four glasses of the honey golden liquid that help her pass out across her bed in her wrapper.

The sun was just peeking through the drawn windows, when Scarlett opened her eyes, and her head pounded, as she walked with the support of her furniture to the basin, and threw up. She retched and retched, not the usual way it came up without help, but it was an effort and burned her throat and nose.

Somehow, she found her way to the bed and fell back to sleep, the smell of brandy and vomit assaulted her senses, but she couldn't care less.

It seemed seconds, but it had been hours when the door opened and Prissy came in with the tray of breakfast, setting it down, it was a meager meal of toast and butter, a baked apple and a pot of coffee.

Scarlett slowly sat up in the bed, and her stomach lurched, but there was nothing to come up, so she turned her head.

"Don't open the drapes, my head hurts."

Prissy nodded and left the room as fast as she could. After yesterday, she wasn't going to argue with her foul mouthed mistress, even though it was after eleven o'clock.

Scarlett set to work pouring her coffee, when she noticed a rectangle card in a pale beige with looping black handwriting. Picking it up, she read the name Mr. and Mrs. Carson Lange. Her pounding head registered the last name, and she remembered the dress shop, of course.

"Pilar" she whispered, and pulled the seal open.

It read: "Dear Mrs. Butler, I would like to request a visit with you sometime in the next few days. SIncerely, Pilar Lange"

Scarlett smiled, this was a welcome distraction, and she figured with three more days before she leaves for Tara, it would be a nice afternoon to invite Pilar for tea the next day.

Prissy returned to collect an empty tray, and smiled seeing the toast gone,and the apple dug into until she saw the wash bowl. She glanced over at Scarlett in the bed, and shook her head, as her mistress had fallen back to sleep.

It was late afternoon, when Scarlett rang for Prissy.

Scarlett sat on her chair near the window, writing a letter on her crisp white stationery, with the gold "B" embossed. She looked up at Prissy as the door open, "Here, bring this to the Lange residence, Jonah should know where it is."

Prissy took the note, and turned to go, but Scarlett called out, "Wait right there, Also, I need Cookie to go out to the market and pick up a few things for tomorrow, I'm having a visitor for tea."

Prissy looked shocked, "It's late, Miz Scarlett, the market almost closed, and-"

"Then, she will have to hurry!" Scarlett got up, and went to her closet, ignoring Prissy's protests.

Prissy came walking into her closet, "Miz Scarlett, I saw you were sick last night, do I have to call Dr. Meade?"

"No!" Scarlett's face brightened red, "I-I wasn't sick. It was something I ate, I'm fine now."

Prissy smiled bigger, "Is Mister Rhett coming home soon?"

Scarlett looked at this sly girl, and her palm itched to slap her, "No,,,,,I don't know. And I'm not having a baby, so get that out of your head."

Prissy's smiled shrunk, "Alright, I was just saying, you sick-"

"You can leave, now. I want to be alone to find something to wear."

"Will you be wanting dinner?"

"Of course! Now go!" Scarlett all but slammed the closet door in her face.

Scarlett pressed her back against the door, and looked at the colorful array of clothes, her new dresses, and the shock of black spread throughout the melee of blues, reds and greens. "Will I ever get out of mourning?" she thought.

How she wished to put on a new dress, Pilar seemed to like fine things, and she would love to make her jealous of her fine clothing. But Pilar had a lost, too, so the playing field was even, they would both be in black, and Pilar had strength and vigor, maybe Scarlett didn't need to compete with Pilar.

Scarlett put her hand on the first black flash of fabric and pulled, who cares which dress she wore, they were all the same color-Black. Most of her dresses were packed for Tara, and the one she pulled was the one she wore, two weeks ago at Melly's house, when they had said their goodbyes, and Rhett had left her crying in the doorway.

She walked out of her closet, and draped the dress over her bench and sat on her bed and traced the cold sheets, Rhett.

"Damn Prissy for saying his name."

The fire started to crackle in the grate, and it almost sounded like his snort. Scarlett could smell the sweet, pungent cigar scent around her, as though he had taken her in his arms. Her body tingled for his touch, and tears built up in her eyes that still throbbed from her hangover. She rubbed her temples, and wished he was here in front of her to put his arm around her, and say, "I'm here."

But he wasn't, and she was alone.

The blush pink sunset filled her bedroom with a soft light, and her surrounds blurred as the tears started to fall, and there was only one word that escaped her lips, "Rhett."