Marjorie Quinn dropped her right hand from her chin. It came to rest against her skirt, and without realizing it, she began tapping it against her side, one eyebrow raised as she spoke.
"Well? Is someone going to let me in on the little, oh, who are we fooling, large secret. Not that secret is even the appropriate word. How about scandal, disgrace, outrage!" Marjorie speculated, her voice harshening with each adjective. The vigor of her right hand knocking against her skirt increased.
"Be quiet, Marjorie," Rebecca scolded fiercely. Her eyes narrowed as she crossed the room to physically place herself between each sister.
"Why, what ever for, Rebecca?" She muttered sarcastically. "Now I see exactly why you changed the subject so abruptly at supper last night. How long?" Marjorie noticed the movement of her right hand, and deliberately brought it up to cross over her left, until both arms were crossed tightly against her chest.
"Since yesterday," Rebecca secured her arm on Michaela's shoulder, more concerned at the distress upon her face.
"Not that! I mean, how long, Michaela? How long before Mother will have to start knitting little things?" Marjorie's hands flew wildly from her chest, as she took a step backwards and began slowly pacing around the room.
"That, is none of your business." Rebecca moved away from Michaela's side, to address her outspoken sister.
"Oh, I think it's every bit my business. My unmarried sister's, I don't even want to think about it. Michaela Quinn, just what on earth. I would have thought you, of any of us would have been the last," Marjorie turned back around, her nasty glare of accusation was greeted by her older sister's presence directly in front of her.
"Leave her alone, Marjorie!" Rebecca's voice was unconsciously raised.
"Well, you would defend her, wouldn't you? Always were as thick as thieves, even thirty years ago. I couldn't get away with anything, you'd be running to Mother or Father. Whereas little Miss Michaela here, could justify her way out of any situation, no matter how naughty she'd been," Marjorie deliberately emphasized the single word, as her eyes returned to her younger sister's withdrawn form.
"I mean it, Marjorie. Outside!" Rebecca took a step forwards and reached firmly for her sister's arm. Marjorie, however, effortlessly evaded her grasp, and merely used the movement to reposition herself between Michaela and Rebecca.
"Why? Why should I? She's definitely old enough, and she can certainly speak for herself. I think we all know that. Well, Michaela? And you a doctor, you can't even blame a mess like this on ignorance," Marjorie rolled her eyes, her voice dripping in judgment.
"Shut up, Marjorie. You have no idea what you're talking about," Rebecca scolded, and tried to reach again for her sister's arm.
"Oh, I think I'm quite well versed on men worming their way into a woman's bed. Why else would she have fled back here? Now, I know Mother was never thorough when it came to such education but really, Michaela," Marjorie baulked, as Rebecca succeeded in clamping her hand around her sister's upper arm.
Michaela lowered her head, and kept her eyes locked through the window, on the colorful, neatly kept garden below.
Speak up for yourself. Why are you letting her walk all over you like this?
"Out, now," Rebecca squeezed her sister's arm with more force than she'd thought possible.
"Oww, all right, all right but at the very least, I'd like an explanation. I mean, had I not come here, neither of you had any intentions of informing any of the family about this indiscretion." Marjorie flung her arm from Rebecca's grasp, and took several deep breaths, allowing her fury to calm.
"I, no," Rebecca considered the disclosure for all of several seconds, before quickly changing her mind.
"Well, how did this happen, when, who," Marjorie sighed noisily, and for the first time noticed that her younger sister hadn't actually uttered a sound since she had entered the room minutes before.
"Marjorie!" Rebecca criticized, disgusted by her sister's candor. She tried once again, to direct the light-haired woman to the door. It was to no avail; Marjorie Quinn had absolutely no intentions of moving from the position she'd placed herself in without the information she sought.
"I am not leaving here until I have some answers. Now, either she starts talking, or you do, or I'll ask for Mother's assistance." Marjorie sneered, as her right eyebrow raised once again.
"If you know what's good for you, Marjorie, you will not breathe one word of this to anyone; not to Mother; not to anyone,"Rebecca felt the empty threat leave her lips, aware that she had absolutely no way of ensuring her sister's compliance.
"Why should I? My youngest sister moves halfway across the country and within two years, she's forgotten everything she was raised to. Tell me, Michaela, is this just the tip of the iceberg of some secret life you were leading out there? Three children weren't enough, so you were just letting anyone into your skirts? Or was a wedding simply too much trouble?" Marjorie cleared her throat, waiting for a response.
Rebecca felt her mouth drop open silently, trying to decide how best to stop her sister's destructive rampage. She watched Michaela turn slightly, both arms curled against her chest, as she kept her eyes locked on the view from the window.
"What? Too ashamed to answer? Too ashamed to even look at me?" Marjorie took a step forwards, about to physically demand her younger sister's attention, when Rebecca's oddly strained voice filled the room.
"Enough! Marjorie," she swallowed, and quickly concocted the lie. "Marjorie, she, it was an accident!" Rebecca was cut-off immediately, Marjorie's face turning bright red.
"I'll say!" Marjorie gasped, as Rebecca pressed on.
"What I meant, was that, Michaela simply, let things go too far and," Rebecca locked eyes with her youngest sister, the pair's unspoken bond allowed her to pick up Michaela's agreement. "and regrets what has happened," she cleared her throat, as Marjorie swiftly formed a judgmental opinion.
"Well, I should certainly think so. However, that fails to explain her presence here," Marjorie resumed her slow pacing around the end of the bed.
"She was seeing a doctor when she honestly did take ill. That is the truth." Rebecca's voice returned to its normal pitch, as Marjorie's only intensified.
"So, this was just an unscheduled visit? Has he even the decency to marry you, Michaela?" Marjorie addressed sharply, her face quickly animating with another more demanding concern, "Who did this, anyway," Marjorie's barrage of questions continued.
"Marjorie, I really don't think that's appropriate," Rebecca realized Michaela's mental presence in the conversation had long-since vanished, and she may as well have not even been in the room.
"How foolish. It was that, that Sully, wasn't it?" Marjorie answered her own question, and continued on, her spontaneous movements becoming more erratic. "I should have known after the last time. Why, we thought after some time, perhaps we'd hear of an engagement. Even a wedding, no matter how unplanned or hasty, would have been better than this!" Marjorie gestured back towards her sister, having also realized Michaela was merely a bystander in the discussion.
"You've no right, standing in judgment, Marjorie! Not after your recent developments," Rebecca felt the words fly from her mouth, never normally allowing herself to speak with such lack of control.
"Excuse me! At least I was married!" she retorted, not appreciating the truth in her older sister's outburst.
"Then you obviously missed something from one of Mother's little talks, if you failed to keep him in your bed alone," Rebecca turned directly towards Marjorie, the two quickly losing themselves in a rapidly-paced banter of anger and jealousy.
"Be grateful I managed to put the wedding before the wifely duty! Not the other way around! Unlike, some," Marjorie's hands gripped to her waist furiously.
"Well, obviously not with any degree of success if Everett took off with every harlot in town behind your back!" Rebecca tilted her head deliberately.
"Why, you nasty, vicious," Marjorie took a violent step towards her older sister, and raised her right hand. About to strike her across the face, Rebecca managed to grasp her wrist tightly.
Rebecca's voice was low, and evenly-paced, "If you want to keep some shred of decency to your name, you'll forget you ever saw Michaela here this morning. You'll forget all of this."
"Or what?" Her voice was snaky and dripping with anger.
"Or Mother will find out that a daughter of hers dared to turn her own husband away. To the point where he resorted to cheap whores and common chambermaids. You open your mouth, just once Marjorie, and Mother will know exactly how you failed your own vows, and she'll never forgive you!" Rebecca directed the index finger of her right hand squarely against her sister's chest. She loathed having to resort to blackmail, however, knew in her heart, it was warranted.
"What makes you think I could care what Mother thinks?" Marjorie objected, although the raised pitch of her voice gave away her nervousness.
"Oh, I know you do. Aside from that, you forget; our trusts are still in her name. Until she dies, the remainder of Father's estate is held entirely within her power. So unless you want to end up living like one of those whores; working in some cheap hotel or saloon," Rebecca narrowed her eyes, knowing that, if nothing else, the threat of poverty would force her sister into obedience.
"All right! I'll, I won't say a word," Marjorie tossed her hands up in the air, admitting defeat. As she turned back to Michaela, Marjorie's voice lowered to a hurt whisper, "What has she ever done to secure such devotion?"
"Michaela would never go behind someone's back. Just to make herself look good," Rebecca took another careful step towards Marjorie. Her voice was succinct and honest, "Michaela would never cut somebody's hair, out of spite, out of envy."
"For heaven's sake, Rebecca, I was twelve years old!" Marjorie retorted dismissively.
"And yet, here we are all over again. You'd have not hesitated for a moment to run to Mother with this news; just to take some of the unwanted attention and gossip off of yourself," Rebecca gestured with her left hand, back to Michaela, who remained turned towards the window.
"So?" Marjorie snapped back quickly.
"When will you be able to grow up, Marjorie! Stop this jealousy and bitterness. Can't you see that Michaela has worked for everything she's had. All those years, you were enjoying parties and dances, whilst your sister was studying, or working with Father. Can't you see that you've both had the same opportunities? You can't hate her for making more of them than yourself," Rebecca's voice softened as she noticed the tension in the room begin to dissipate.
Marjorie shook her head, her tone stilted, "I don't hate her, I, I'm sorry," Marjorie turned away, feeling the tears sting against her eyelids. "Don't you see, since Everett, I feel as though it's just been so unfair. What did I ever do to deserve this? Why am I being punished?"
"Marjorie, there," Rebecca rubbed her sister's arm soothingly, "Life's not about that. Life isn't some children's game where someone keeps score, and dishes out the punishments to keep everything even. No-one chooses our paths for us. When will you see that family is not your enemy, that I can love you just as much as I love Michaela, as much as I love my own children. I just want you to be happy." Rebecca's hand stopped on her sister's shoulder, as she saw her sever the eye contact.
"I think it's too late for that." Marjorie pulled her eyes away from Rebecca's.
As she moved her eyes over the lifeless room, Marjorie saw that her younger sister, had turned her attention away from the window for the first time throughout their heated conversation. Michaela kept her gaze lowered, her jacket was clutched tightly in her arms, and tears trailed down her cheeks.
"It's never too late. It's up to you," Rebecca concluded, only then noticing Marjorie's distracted glare.
Marjorie frowned and looked back towards Rebecca confused, "Why, why is she crying?" Her expression was concerned, with only a mild trance of cynicism.
"It's all right. Marjorie, will you wait downstairs, for a moment," Rebecca arrived by Michaela's side, and awkwardly reached for her shoulders, not knowing whether or not she would rebuke the physical contact.
"I," Marjorie was unnerved by the vacancy and distress in her younger sister's eyes, and without hesitation, departed from the room.
Rebecca waited until she heard the door close, before she pulled Michaela's weak and crumpling form against her shoulder. "It's all right," she whispered, softly, as a mother would when comforting a hurt child.
Rebecca could feel her sister's anguished breath, warm and irregular against the edge of her right ear. She wasn't remotely prepared for the strangled, harrowed sob which slowly built from her sister's throat, until she had to roughly clasp her hands around Michaela's back to stop her collapsing against her.
"I'm sorry, I, I'm sorry," Michaela's voice wavered, as each word broke through the silence of the room surrounding them.
Rebecca secured her arms protectively against her younger sister's back, as she felt her upper body wither against her, wracked with indescribable sobs and whimpers.
"I'm sorry. Please help me, Becca. Please," Michaela kept her arms tightly clenched against her chest, having seen through her older sister's defense only minutes earlier, that she could trust her.
"Ssh, everything will be all right, she's gone. it's all right," Rebecca began a steady patting against her sister's back. She could feel the frailness of her ribcage beneath her hands, as Michaela's breathing continued in short pants.
"No, it's not her." She slid her chin over her sister's shoulder, until it settled comfortably in the hollow of her neck.
"I know you're scared, Michaela. I'm sorry sweetheart. I wish I'd known about this. I wish I'd been able to be there for you," Rebecca cradled the back of her sister's head tightly, as her eyes dropped closed miserably.
"It's all my fault. I brought this on myself." Michaela unclenched her hands and allowed them to fall weakly to her side.
"Please don't say that, I'm sure you," Rebecca consoled, Michaela was much sharper in her reply.
"No, I." Her eyes dropped closed as she pressed harder against her sister's shoulder. "I let, I didn't stop it," Michaela grasped the edges of her skirt violently, as she felt her sister's embrace soften.
"It's all right." She stroked Michaela's slightly damp hair, which clumped together messily against her back. "You didn't have a choice, Michaela."
"I shouldn't be here. I should have died. I had a choice; I chose this," Michaela opposed her sister's previous statement; however it only served to further confirm the guilt in her own mind.
"I know that's what you think now, it's what we're brought up with, indoctrinated with. You mustn't think about that, though," Rebecca blinked several times, vague images forming in her mind, although truly having no way of imagining what her sister had survived.
"It's all I can think about. Even at the time, part of me didn't want to survive it. Had it not been for the children, I don't think I would have," Michaela's voice cracked, as she buried her nose and mouth harder into her sister's shoulder.
"Ssh, I know what they mean to you." Rebecca adjusted her stance, feeling the weight of her sister's upper body against her, although, not for a moment objecting to it.
"I know I've been terrible to them, especially Brian. I just can't make sense of it all. I can't stop feeling this way; ashamed and," Michaela let the undeniable notion settle in her mind.
"And, as if you almost blame them. I understand," Rebecca took a chance with the suggestion, knowing that her sister's silence alone, was a powerful indication of truth. "Michaela, you don't have to explain it to me, we were brought up by the same parents. I know exactly how guilty you would have felt. Why do you think I said those things to Marjorie. I promise you, I'll never let Mother learn of any of this. I promise, no-one beside us, will ever know how this really happened. I'm truly sorry about Marjorie, I should have considered after supper last night, that she'd wish to make her presence felt," Rebecca felt Michaela lift her head from her right shoulder, although her eyes remained lowered.
"I don't care about her. How can I? I'm carrying this child. How can I care what Marjorie thinks," Michaela broke off into an uneven sob, her crying strengthening, as Rebecca supportively wrapped her arms around her back once again.
Rebecca remained still throughout Michaela's howling cries, feeling her heart physically hurt with the fear she heard in her sister's drawn-out moans. "It will be all right," Rebecca cupped her hands around the back of her sister's shoulders, allowing her to rock soothingly against her for several minutes.
"I wish everyone would stop saying that, because, it won't be, it won't," Michaela waited until the tears had dried against her cheeks, before she pulled away from her sister's side.
Rebecca gently guided her towards the large bed, both sitting down on the edge of the mattress. Noticing the dark wooden hairbrush on the small table by the bed, Rebecca reached for it, and repositioned herself slightly, to begin untangling the strands of Michaela's hair.
"I just wish I could somehow stop this. I spoke with William yesterday. I all but pleaded with him to help you. He said there's nothing he can do," Rebecca ran the brush carefully down her sister's back. She wasn't sure if Michaela would respond, however, soothingly continued brushing until she heard her distant voice.
"I know. I knew from the minute I realized myself. I tried what I could, but nothing worked. Coming here was my last chance." Michaela kept her hands clasped in her lap, aware of the deep-seated hopelessness and discomfort that filled every inch of her being.
"Michaela, we know. About the other doctor and what happened at the hotel. I know how desperate you were, how confused you were." She started on a fresh handful of hair, somehow realizing that without the demand of eye contact, Michaela found it easier to talk.
"I just wanted it to stop. I should never have put Brian through that," Michaela allowed herself to reflect on the earlier incidents in the hotel room. She could still hear her son's shattered sobs as she'd chastised him for breaking the glass.
"He's just glad you're all right. He loves you so much, Michaela." Rebecca tidied the bottom of her sister's long, delicate tresses, noticing how it shined against the morning sunlight.
"I know. That's what made it so hard. All I could keep seeing was his face, all I could hear was his voice," Michaela felt her sister gather her hair loosely and begin plaiting it.
Michaela let her eyes drop closed as her sister delicately completed the significant task of bringing her hair into a single plait.
"You did the right thing," Rebecca secured the pale crimson ribbon to the end of the long braid, and tapped Michaela on the shoulder lightly, to indicate she'd finished.
Michaela nodded weakly, as she felt her sister rise from the bed beside her.
"Ellen will be in her room Michaela, if there's anything you need," Rebecca watched the unexpected smile flash across her younger sister's face.
"Rebecca, I can ride a horse, drive a wagon, start a fire and milk a cow. I'm perfectly capable of making myself a cup of tea," Michaela's voice resonated with mock humor.
"I know, I'm sorry. I forget how different your life is now," Rebecca turned back towards the door, trailing off at her insensitive comment.
"Indeed," Michaela drew an uncomfortable breath, but nonetheless pushed herself up from the bed and crossed the room.
"Please, do make yourself at home, though. I just didn't want you to think you need spend the days cooped up here," Rebecca stepped out into the hallway as Michaela quickly slipped on some shoes and arrived behind her.
"Thank-you," she whispered, as she reached for her sister's arm. "Best say goodbye to Brian," Michaela and Rebecca arrived at the top of the stairs.
"And I'd best come up with some explanation for our sister." Rebecca shook her head wearily, as Michaela moved away along the corridor towards Brian's bedroom.
~.~
X.O.X
~.~
Grace brought the wooden spoon to her lips slowly, as she savored the rich potato and leek soup she'd spent the majority of the morning tending to. As the warm, flavorsome liquid seeped into her mouth she startled at the sensation of a hand on her shoulder. The spoon hurtled with a splash to the large pot below.
"Robert E.!" She scolded, and awkwardly retrieved the spoon which had sunk deep into the full pot of simmering soup.
"Sorry, sorry, shoulda known better," Robert E. pulled the dark cap from his head and smiled apologetically. From her reaction, he couldn't guess for certain whether she was truly annoyed or not.
"I should say so. One day, you're gonna get burnt," Grace chuckled, and quickly dropped the smile from her face, as she remembered the events from several years earlier. "I'm sorry, I was only," she trailed off, and looked away.
"Don't be silly. Come over here, got a surprise for ya," Robert E. grinned secretively, as Grace relented and moved the simmering pots from the stove.
"All right, but mind you, ain't got all day. Got customers be comin' in a few hours right after church," she fussed, although the significance of the day was not lost on her.
It was exactly one year ago today, that they had been married. She hoped her husband hadn't forgotten, and from the childish glimmer in his eyes, guessed he had not.
"Stop ya fussin', woman. Only take a minute," Robert E. reached politely for her right hand, and led her away from the café, towards their house.
"Robert E. if this is just you foolin' with me, I'll," Grace protested as they walked side-by-side up the alleyway towards the main street.
"Ain't foolin'," he denied, as he cleared his throat and warmly gripped her hand.