Lessons to Learn

Chapter 16

A/N: Well, it took longer for me to update this than I'd thought. But here is the next chapter finally. Take it as a little Christmas treat :) The end of the year has been especially busy and hope to be able to be a bit more productive in my writing in the next months. But I guess we'll see. I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a calm end of the year! Stay safe! And as always, reviews are very welcome :)

Taking care of her own needs. It was sweet of Dr Baxter to say but she didn't know what she demanded from Cora there. It sounded simple and Cora knew it was what many expected from her. She saw it in Robert's furrowed brow, in Elsie's long looks she felt burning in the back of her head as she walked down the hallway that connected their offices. These looks, they were all saying the same, 'Cora, it's your responsibility to take care of yourself. To take care that it all stays balanced. You really have to mean it, though. And at the moment, it doesn't look like it. Why, Cora? Why aren't you trying hard enough?' Because it wasn't very well that simple as it sounded. She had to get through the trying times now and when they were over, when spring break would come, then she could take a step back, have a short break for herself. But nobody seemed to believe her. Nobody believed her that she tried. And that didn't help her.

Stress. It rang in her ears like an accusation. If she was stressed, it was her own making. The to-be-marked papers she brought home from school were eyed as doubtful from Robert as Cora herself. As if she chose to produce more work for herself by having the students write analyses. Did she really have to explain herself in front of Robert, telling him that the students had to practise this for their exams? It made Cora weary. More than she already was. It made her stressed. But she wouldn't want to admit that to Robert or anyone else. She didn't want to receive a bunch of "told you so's".

The short moment of being held in Robert's arms had been bittersweet. She didn't know what had caused this bout of tender affection in him that hadn't been present for days and weeks. The last time she had seen him he had been cross. Reasonably so. But as he had found her in the living room after her appointment, he had somehow been gentle and aware, seemingly even before the moment he had entered the room. Cora couldn't explain it. But he was there this exact moment, and she hadn't admitted to herself how much she had needed this until he had pulled her close. Robert had been nowhere near confident with the topic she had confronted him with. Of course not. It was Robert (Cora wouldn't have expected that). But he was a great comfort to her. And considering that she hadn't planned on involving him, this was a surprisingly positive outcome for the two of them.

The few minutes she had let herself fallen, unconditionally embraced by him, allowing the sorrow that pulled at her heavy heart to spill without restriction, she had felt safe and protected. She had cried over life's mean ways but had been so far away from all evil in his arms.

It was incredible how much had been healed in these few minutes. When she had come home, she hadn't known how to face the next days or hours. Where should she take the energy to conquer all the tasks that still waited for her? But when she stood up from the sofa, she knew that she would at least be able to tackle the next hours. And she was Robert infinitely thankful for this. Though, she sensed that he didn't believe this. He didn't understand her. He had wanted to be there for her, but he couldn't comprehend what was going on with her. And she couldn't explain. It was a tragedy. A tragedy she wasn't strong enough to face now. When spring break would come, she would be able to paint a more harmonic picture of herself. For herself. For Dr Baxter. But most of all for Robert. He deserved that. He deserved a wife that was strong and put-together at his side.

It had been her effort all the time for the last months. To get through it, to get the bulk of things done, to avoid disappointing Robert. But the harder she had tried the more she had seemed to fail. She wasn't sure if the latest turn of events, her momentary complete breakdown, had helped her cause or if it had crushed all her prior efforts. She definitely hadn't helped to paint a picture of a strong wife for Robert with this action.

In the following days, Cora tried avoiding the thoughts about stress and about Dr Baxter's words of advice. It made her anxious and she couldn't have that. But on her way to school she had just too much time to think. She had already forgotten how threatening overthinking could be. She was surprised at herself how glad she was when she finally arrived at school the days after her doctor's appointment. Though working was pulling all her energy from her before her day at home even started, it also kept her mind busy. Overthinking just didn't present itself as an option as long as the school supplied her with work upon work.

She wanted to forget the others' demands and her own irrational and overly emotional reaction to the news she had received at Dr Baxter's, which actually didn't even were news. Nothing had changed but she felt like it had. It was actually a burden that had been taken off her shoulders, yet life wasn't easy at all.

Cora walked the hallways of the school with these thoughts still troubling her mind. She shook her head to rid herself of them. She wanted to arrive at school fully. Body and mind. But her mind wasn't where it was supposed to be at all lately.

Her present day at school had a promising highlight, however. The art class she still kept clinging to portrayed rare hours of the week in which Cora didn't feel the stress and exhaustion that was imminent to her life recently. She was looking forward to it and she was excited to see the progress the students had made on their diverse projects. Teaching this class even set her in a mood where she longed for getting creative herself again. It had been years since she had last picked up a brush and stood in front of a canvas with the intention to cover it with her own desires and ideas. She wouldn't very likely do so in the foreseeable future but it was still a nice and warming thought.

Cora was also quite impressed by the earnestness with which the majority of the students worked on their projects. This had been a great joy from the beginning of this unit but that none of them really lost their initial euphoria was quite a surprise for Cora. It was a reassuring momentum for her as a teacher that some of the students that needed inspiration or advice willingly listened to her and tried what she suggested, deciding it would be worth a shot. Of course, many didn't know a lot of paintings originated in the 19th century and so Cora could show them some of her favourites. She was thrilled to see that Monet's 'Springtime' and Hokusai's 'Bullfinch and Weeping Cherry' would be represented in the students' gallery. And a girl that looked quite like the fair-skinned and dark-haired 'Flower of the Fields' by Louis Janmot was doing some self-portraying photography art, and Cora already knew that it would turn out great and would look especially stunning in direct comparison to the original artwork.

All the joy this class kept for Cora made it impossible for her to cut down these lessons as well. This wouldn't do. This wouldn't help her with her problems anyway. If it was a source of happiness, she was convinced it had to stay in her full timetable regardless.

And the art class didn't prove a disappointment today. When Cora came into the classroom a little late, Oliver had already started the lesson and the students were busying themselves with setting their workspaces. Cora closed the door behind herself and joined Oliver at the front of the class. She put down her folders on the teacher's desk. "Hey," she said softly and smiled at Oliver. The noises in the classroom nearly swallowed her voice. But Oliver had noticed her nevertheless.

"Hey, I'm glad you could make it," he replied and returned her smile with a wide one of his own.

"I wouldn't want to miss our sweet students making headway at their projects," she said.

Their conversation got lost in the bustle of the class. The students were done preparing their desks in order to continue their projects by now but the commotion just grew with every second. Cora waited for Oliver to call the class to order. After all, it was his class now. He, however, made no attempt to act accordingly. On the contrary, he tried starting a new conversation with Cora himself after a moment.

"Did I ever tell you that it's much more fun to teach with you?" Cora could only suspect his eyebrows rising behind the strands of his fringes. The corner of his mouth twitched slightly. If she wouldn't know better, Cora would think he was flirting with her.

"Oliver, don't you think we should start class and see about the students getting quiet?" she said a little puzzled. His statement caught her off guard with her focus only being on the lesson itself. Heat rose in her cheeks and she hoped he didn't notice.

"Oh, right." He turned around to the class and tried catching the attention of the students. He had worked on his lack of authority a bit over the last weeks and Cora had to admit she was a little proud. But she still saw that it wasn't quite natural for him to stand in front of a class and guide a group of teenagers. She stood behind him at his right with her arms crossed in front of her chest. It wasn't her job anymore to teach this class. She was there to help and she tried to not let everything that didn't quite go as she would like it, bother her. She had to really try (because it was indeed hard for her to let go) but it worked better with every lesson, she felt.

As soon as a little peace settled in, Cora made her rounds through the rows of desks. The days till the school fair and therefore the spring break were getting fewer and fewer, and some of the students had to step on it to finish their projects in time. It was the most frequently asked question today. "Mrs Crawley, do you think I'll be able to finish it?" And Cora was nodding her way through the rows and was dropping tips for efficiency here and there. "Work on the details later." "Use a bigger brush for the larger areas." "Art can be messy as well. Be brave and pay no attention to the imperfections."

The one or the other student proudly showed her their artworks and Cora was so proud of every one of them. Their beaming smiles made her heart soar even more than their unique masterpieces.

The lesson flew by in the blink of an eye.

When she was about to leave the classroom, Oliver held her back. The last students were flocking out of the room.

"This went really well," Oliver said. He slowly collected his things from the teacher's desk and put them in his bag. It was much too slow for Cora's liking. She didn't have time to give away just like that.

She nodded. "I suppose so."

"We're doing a great job together," he continued. Cora smiled unsurely and shrugged her shoulders. "Do you care for lunch? We could go pick something up together," Oliver proposed.

Even if she would have liked to, Cora couldn't fit a dallying lunch with Oliver into her schedule. "I'm sorry but I'm afraid I can't. I don't really have a break," she said.

"Oh, I see." He looked a little disappointed.

Cora bit her tongue before she could make a promise she couldn't keep. But the 'Maybe another time' was nearly leaving her lips. They left the classroom and Oliver locked it behind them. Cora was letting herself be carried away with the next crowd of students.

"See you!" she called after Oliver, and he sent her one last sweet smile.

When Cora gathered her things hours later in her office, she shot a glance at the clock on the wall. As a change, she was getting home in time today. That was something. She piled up the folders she needed to work on at home and stuffed them in her bag. Even though spring was showing itself repeatedly over the last few weeks, Cora was freezing badly. It had to be the cold school walls that were obstinate against any warmth in their midst. Cora got her coat that nearly slipped from the backrest of her desk chair. If she had to stay any longer at school, she would have to wear her coat inside. But for today, her deed here was done. Putting her bag over her shoulder, Cora threw one last glance into her office.

It felt as if it was still the middle of the day when she made her way to the bicycle stands. But as invitingly as the schoolyard looked in the bright noon sun, she was met by a bitingly cold wind as she stepped out of the building. The asphalt crunched a bit under her heels. Cora tried pulling the zipper on her coat up even higher but the garment was already doing the best it could to keep Cora warm. So, Cora hurried to unlock her bike and throw her bag into the basket on the handlebars. The nasty wind attacked the bare parts of her skin mercilessly, biting into her nose and neck and challenging her hands that were drier now than throughout most of the winter.

She swung herself onto her saddle and left the schoolyard without hesitation. Her throat was scratching unpleasantly and she just wanted to get home and make herself a nice cup of steaming hot tea.

Robert was faced at work with a challenge different from his usual concerns at the office. It was quite personal actually. He was back at his regular duties and they seemed so much less now in comparison to his work from the last month. Which was maybe why he was having the time to rack his brain about family matters. The women in his family were supplying him with enough tasks.

In the first hours of his working day, Robert had been working on his own in relative peace. That was until Rosamund ran by his office. She was out of breath and muttered an apology in passing. Robert was a little confused. When the next opportunity presented itself, he left his office and went looking for her. He found his sister working frantically at her desk. She only looked up shortly when he came in.

"Is everything alright here?" he asked.

"Yes, sure," she said without even waiting for him to finish his question. Robert tilted his head in slight surprise while staying standing in the doorway. Rosamund's actual reaction to him followed some seconds later. Her fingers paused their aggressively fast hacking on the keyboard and hovered above it before her eyes left the screen of her computer and went up to Robert. She sighed.

"I'm sorry I was late today," she said. "You know that punctuality is actually a strength of mine. I won't let it become a habit."

"It's alright. Did something happen?"

"No, not really. Well, actually, of course, something did happen. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been late. But nothing worth announcing as a reason to not show up in time." Her expression reminded Robert of the one she had before she had confided in him about her concerns with Rose. It was this mask she wore that became harder before her façade fell completely. Now though, she stayed invulnerable and emotionless.

Robert sighed. "It's not a shame to ask for help Rosamund," he said.

"Well, but I don't need help!" Her eyes pierced through him threateningly. "And not always one can be helped," she added.

Robert's eyebrows rose on his forehead. He waited for a further explanation.

Now it was Rosamund's turn to sigh. She averted her eyes and focused on her fingertips that brushed softly across the keys of her keyboard now. "No one can change anything about my bloody inabilities," she mumbled so softly that he barely heard. It was silent for a moment. After a few seconds, Robert took another step into the office and closed the door behind himself.

"Is this about Rose?"

Rosamund just shrugged her shoulders. "I don't want to think about it and I don't want to talk about it, Robert." She took a deep inhale and shook herself before looking at him again.

"You know, Ros, maybe talking to Cora would help you," Robert suggested cautiously. "You don't have to talk to me or about it at all, but if you should feel the need to at some point maybe Cora would be the right person."

"Thanks, but no! Cora is a sweet soul but talking to her wouldn't help me at all. She's actually the last one I would seek out." Her words cut through the thick air like an ice-cold blade. The intensity of her words shocked Robert.

"Whoa, what did she do to deserve this?" Robert shot back.

"You don't see it, Robert, do you?" Rosamund's hands, balled into fists, pressed into the tabletop. Her knuckles slowly began turning white. "Your emotionally awkward sister is fucking up to show any motherly abilities and you are directing her to your oh-so-perfect wife who never struggled a tiny bit with raising and mothering three daughters! I am not going to embarrass myself and bawl my eyes out in front of Cora to have her not relate to anything I say," she said in a rage.

"Now, just hold on a minute," Robert cut in sternly. "I don't think you're doing Cora any justice there! She's compassionated enough to get your situation. But it's up to you. Do what you want," he said. "I better leave you to your work," he added in his authoritative tone while circling the contents of her desk with his finger.

"Don't you get all bossy with me now! You were the one starting all this, so don't get mad at me now and boss me around," Rosamund rebuked. She waved her hand impatiently. "Now, shoo!"

Robert gritted his teeth. He had to give his all to restraint himself from barking back at her. Entirely tense, he turned on his heel and left her office.

There was nothing sweeter than sibling love.

Mary was four years old but that didn't mean she did not notice that her sister's birth was anything but a normal and easy-going event.

It had been awfully quiet in the house since Mama had been taken to the hospital about a week ago. Mary hated how every laughter had left the house with her. Getting a baby was no excuse to be downcast and worried all the time she thought. But the grown-ups seemed to think differently.

Mary had awoken one day and first, she hadn't noticed that something was different. Edith had still lain in her bed on the other side of the room, sucking her dummy like she was the little baby and not the one that grew bigger and bigger in Mama's belly. Mama and Papa had said Edith should stop because the new baby needed the dummies now. After all, Edith was three years old already. Mary always told her that she didn't suck dummies when she was three years old.

But apparently, Edith kept one of them secretly nevertheless. That wasn't alright, Mary knew. So, she left their room quietly and made her way to their parents' bedroom. She just had to tell them that Edith was misbehaving. But the bedroom was empty, the wide bed untouched. Mary stood in the doorway for a moment. Mama and Papa weren't there, it slowly dawned on her. She had no explanation for this. They always were there, sleeping in this bed, when Mary had gotten up early in the morning. Because she had no other idea Mary decided to go downstairs and look if they possibly were up and about already. On her way down the upstairs corridor, she passed the open door to one of the guest bedrooms. That was odd. The doors weren't usually open. Mary peaked into the darkened room.

"Rosamund?" Her aunt was awake instantly. If Mama and Papa would react like this, that would be great, Mary thought. It was always a tiresome act to try waking up her parents.

Rosamund rubbed her eyes as she sat up in bed. "Mary, come here!"

Mary patted across the thick carpet and leaned against the edge of the bed that was so much higher than her own. "What are you doing here?" she asked earnestly. Things were definitely not right in the house. Aunt Rosamund had her own home. Why wasn't she sleeping there?

Rosamund smiled sleepily while stroking Mary's hair. "I wanted to have a sleepover with you. And look, what nice pyjamas you have!" She rubbed Mary's belly.

"This is Winnie the Pooh," Mary explained. She pointed to the yellow bear on her chest. She agreed with aunt Rosamund. Her pyjamas were great. She liked the yellow-orange-striped one with Winnie the Pooh on it. Even the thin pink stripes in between didn't bother her. "But for a real sleepover, you would have had to sleep with us in our room. I didn't even notice we were having a sleepover!" Mary added.

Rosamund laughed before she explained to Mary what was going on. Mama had been having the baby, and Papa was at the hospital with her. Aunt Rosamund wasn't able to tell her when they would be back. Having a baby was very exhausting apparently. But Rosamund said they could visit Mama and the baby soon.

And then, things were different after all.

Rosamund looked at her phone and was very serious all of the sudden. In the following days, it had turned out that because the birth had been very hard for Mama, they couldn't visit her as soon and that she would also have to stay in the hospital longer. Papa came home one day finally but he had been gone for quite a long time, Mary and Edith agreed. Rosamund had explained he had had to stay with Mama. And he looked like he wasn't in a good mood. For days, it had been quiet and sad. And lonely.

But today, Mama was home again. Papa had picked her and the baby up from the hospital. Rosamund had helped carry the baby inside while Papa had helped Mama. Edith and Mary had stood at the feet of the stairs, clutching the struts of the banister. They had a full view of the entrance, and Mary was shocked about Mama's state. Papa and Rosamund had never said that she was this sick. She couldn't walk alone. Papa had to support her, and she looked pale and tired. And sick. The one time they had all visited her in the hospital a few days ago, Mary had just thought she had been tired. But having a baby made one really ill, she realised now. Mary hadn't known that. No one had told her before.

Even though Mama was ill, things were better now that she was home. It was still rather quiet apart from the baby crying regularly, but Papa and Mama smiled and sometimes a peal of laughter filled the rooms.

"Mary, could please take your toys from the kitchen table? We agreed that you could play down here but I need the table to prepare lunch for us," Papa said.

"Alright, Papa." Mary bounded to the table and crawled onto a chair, where kneelingly she reached out for all the toys strewn across the table. Edith and she now preferred playing downstairs on the kitchen floor. They could watch Mama and their baby sister from there. Together they had built Mama a comfy nest on the sofa in the open living space. She lay there all day with the baby by her side. Edith and Mary had to promise they weren't loud and would keep from fighting. But Mary found out as long as Mama didn't hear they were fighting it was no problem actually. And it was Edith who messed it up most of the time by bursting into tears and bawling awfully loud. She was crying louder than their baby sister.

Their baby sister was indeed quite tiny. Mama said she was called Sybil. In the beginning, Mary had some difficulties remembering her name. But now, she knew it and she was using it as often as possible.

With her teddy bear and her doll under one arm and her toy car under the other, Mary jumped from the chair and resumed her spot on the straw mat on the kitchen floor.

"Is Sybil having lunch with us?" Mary asked. "She is part of the family now after all."

Papa laughed, and as Mary turned to Mama, she saw she was smirking as well.

"Sybil is only being fed by Mama's milk. She doesn't need food yet like we. She will hopefully be asleep when we are having lunch," Papa explained.

"I know that she is drinking milk from Mama," Mary made clear before she turned back to her paper and pencils in front of her. She took up drawing again. It was a picture of Mama and Sybil and herself playing outside in their garden.

Papa was beginning his preparations for lunch. It clattered in the kitchen as he searched for the right pan. He was much louder than Mary and Edith. Mary rose onto her knees, the bright red pencil for her dress still in her fist. First, she thought about reprimanding Papa but then she decided to first look after Sybil and Mama. She turned her head to the sofa. Sybil was in Mama's arms. Her tiny fists were stretched away from her body in agitation as she inhaled deeply before letting out one of the strangled cries that were the only thing, she was capable of. Mama stroked her small head and made soothing sounds as if she wanted to send the baby to sleep. She smiled at Mary's little sister and rocked her lightly in her arms. When she noticed Mary watching, she also smiled at her.

"Is Sybil aright?" Mary asked.

Mama nodded. The cries faded away. Mary sat back down on her haunches. She bent down to her picture. "If she is upset again, you can tell her I am making a picture for you two," Mary added.

"That's very sweet of you, Mary. I will tell her," Mama answered softly.

When Mary was finishing colouring all the dresses in the picture, a delicious smell began filling the room. It was sweet and familiar but Mary couldn't quite tell what it was. But now, she was too impatient to keep on drawing so she sent the colour pencils rolling over the straw mat where they rolled onto Edith's piece of paper.

"Ey!" Edith cried out.

Mary put a finger to her lips. "Shh!" Then she struggled to her feet and walked behind the kitchen counter where Papa was preparing the meal at the stove. It frizzled every time he poured something into the pans.

"What are you cooking?" she asked.

"I'm making pancakes," Papa explained. Mary couldn't help but grin widely and bounce on the balls of her feet while she pressed her lips together to keep from squealing. Papa chuckled and smiled down at her. He ruffled her hair with the hand that wasn't occupied with the spatula. Mary thought he would turn back to the stove but then he bent down to her and whispered in her ear, "But don't tell Mama! We're surprising her."

Mary nodded vigorously. Now she had another reason to keep quiet. She was keeping a secret. But knowing Mama was getting a surprise made it really hard to stay away from her. Mary just had to seek out her spot on the sofa to see if she didn't suspect anything and would be fully surprised as it should be.

Mama was still rocking the baby gently while she hummed something very softly. Mary walked up and down in front of the sofa for a while, her lips tightly shut. When Mama looked up at her one or two times, Mary only smiled at her. She wouldn't spoil the surprise. It was good that Mama was laying on the sofa all day. There was no risk that she would get up and go into the kitchen. And since she couldn't see the stove from here in the living space there was no way she would know about the pancakes. Mary was content.

The meal was nearly ready and Mary helped Papa set the table. Edith was only standing in the way. She merely managed to set one fork and it was her own.

When Papa put the plate of pancakes on the table, Edith clapped her hands excitedly. Mary had to shush her again.

"Mary?" Papa asked. "Would bring this over to Mama?" he spoke lowly. He prepared a plate with a pancake with red pesto for her. "Ask her if she wants to come over to eat with us."

Mary nodded as she took the plate with great caution. Her eyes were glued to the dish in her hands. As she rounded the sofa, the words with which she wanted to announce the surprise were already on her lips. But when she looked up, she saw that Mama was asleep. Sybil slumbered peacefully on Mama's chest, her tiny fists pressed to her cheek, and Mama's bigger hand spanning the baby's entire back. Very quietly Mary set the plate down onto the coffee table. She sighed as she threw one last glance at Sybil and Mama. These two were much too sleepy to appreciate a proper surprise.