Forgiveness
Pop? Do you remember something you once told me? I never forgot it. It was right after Mom died. The world is full of pain and unhappiness. But you and I can hold off as long as we stand together. –Maggie Evans
Dark Shadows, Episode 12 Written by Art Wallace
It had not been quite so intense a night between Barnabas and I. We hadn't been looking through our journals of these days and nights together so recently, but of older things and what needed touching up in the family history. There was very little of my mother, Marie la Freniére and this is no surprise as I had no memory of her, at least in this life. Considering Pappa came back as well, I suspected the mother I knew in my current childhood as Maggie Evans was also the same. Then when I noticed she was still around and doing favours for us I was sure. It was she who had seen all of this and helped it to happen.
We found a few paintings with both of her incarnations, Pop and I jotting down details, thinking of her in either part of the whole equation. She must know what I had gone through, and likely was trying to help me see that again almost a century before as well as Nephew Caleb.
These thoughts left us as my husband and I lay in bed, simply drifting, to enjoy lying together. He held me and stroked my skin, moving our limbs to pursue a comfortable state of togetherness. Sleep came back and forth from this relaxation: Our serenity.
I remembered shifting about and I saw Willie leaning over the fire, placing two more logs inside the hearth for us. The dear, sweet soul. He was becoming more and more how Benjamin Stokes had been and likely became when his life improved as we all missed viewing it. A pale face beckoned Willie in the half opening of my door, waiting and stretching out her hand to bring him back to their quarters with her. He took it in kind. What a sweet-one she'd been. They shut the door behind them.
An hour or so after this I woke up in my night dress, put on my robe and noticed those newer logs on the fire. I drew myself down on the floor before them, folding my arms about my upturned knees, I stared into the flames. No phoenixes, no ghosts, just firelight.
"Margaret?" I heard Barnabas murmur from the bed.
"I'm here, my love. I'm here."
"What are you thinking about?"
"Nothing. Bits of the past, as usual. The peace of the evening tonight. Ourselves."
"Hardly nothing, Josette."
I smiled softly, turning to look at him. He was resting on his side, his head on the pillow surveying me in that admiration I so often saw on his face. No other man in the world was for me. I wouldn't tell him to forget me. If he had truly loved another and not me I would have to let him go. That was in my nature. I could never be pleased or feel easy about it if it had been so, which managed to wreck me the first time around. I knew he was never in love with Angelique. Barnabas Collins had been terrified and deeply disturbed in his feelings of lust and being dishonourable to whom he believed himself to be. And, of course, it's made me love him all the more.
We also dealt with vanity. He wouldn't have me as a grotesque re-animation of my disfigured corpse. He wanted physical beauty and that is an understandable human quality. I'm not sure how I would feel if we weren't so preserved in this way by the blood. Thank heavens we don't require so much to survive. He's kept as pristine as he was before; a more youthful glow took hold of us both in this way. We appreciated it. After all we'd been through I can't imagine we don't deserve that added treat in our lives.
I looked into the fire... then I bolted! The sensation of fingers going up the right side of my back shocked me. There he was, my beloved, sitting beside me so suddenly. I had to let free a small laugh after almost screaming prior to it. "You still have that ability to scare me, Barnabas; Even with what we send within our minds."
"I meant to catch you off guard," he smiled in return, almost wickedly but happily, tilting his head to graze my lips. I returned his kiss, always so heartfelt and filled with such passion, mild at times and strong at others. So soft, so gentle, so many things I knew that he could be. So near as I had always wanted. To be Josette Dupres again, to awaken to myself as a whole, and to understand within myself all of who I was. Maggie Evans doesn't drop away in all of this. I fought so hard against my identity of Josette because it was so much a facade to him then. Neither of us recalled who I was. I could never be the fragments of china doll, the tiny fragments he could remember.
Josette Marie Dupres, that was who I was and who I am still. And I as Maggie Evans proved that to me as well. The interval as Kitty Soames was the sadness of our hearts. But toward myself I grinned. She lived within me and we would never let that go. "I must live my life as myself," I had shouted in the turbulence. And so I do. What I loved then lived again. Of course I would say yes to him, as I had always said yes, and happiness was a far greater luxury than all the jewels I left behind.
I felt his thumb beneath my ear... fingers wrapping around the back of my head, reaching under my hair. He had what he always wanted and it made him so virile and loving, and it was because of me. I kissed him, opening my lips to offer him what was within. A dab of tongue collected at mine. I thought of how this adoration in each other served to increase our desire, knowing the other was so rich in pleasure, and being so pleased because of oneself. It enhanced our feelings for each other in ways I could hardly imagine, not that I had to.
I'd hugged myself close but now unfolded and we stood up on our knees, some awkward, reaching, involved; the flickering of the flame's dancing light along his cheek, creating the darkened glow from his brows, the intensity in his hazel eyes. He loved me and I had no doubts. Facing this way, smoothly coursing our hands along and around each other, I burned with desire, feeling that grip of his fingers along my waist and hip, a slight dig with his thumbs into my pelvis which sparked even more longing. The muscles on his torso tensing as I fanned out my fingers along them, pressing and making his breath sharper as we remained locked together.
Our embrace tightened as we held each other in this upright kneeling position. Our lips released and I heard him exhale, "No more pain, no more torture. You are my wondrous beauty, all that I've sacrificed myself in my foul actions for, all that I've hated myself not to deserve. Just to be safe and with you."
"And I you," I told him quietly, "I've forgiven you, my dearest. And I must ask you..."
"Oh," he almost whined, "what can it be now in this beautiful moment?" He turned his head hoping to press his lips upon mine once more and I pulled my head back a little to stop him.
"Barnabas Collins? Have you forgiven... yourself?"
Our breathing halted and the fire crackled softly, our faces lit by it, his in a stunned look, not quite at me anymore but through me.
"I hadn't considered it... at all" he uttered, tilting his face again in that peculiar way of his, "and why should I?"
That's when I took his face in my hands, "Because I want these burdens lifted from you, mon demón. We've all come this far. Why not you?"
He stroked my hair, letting his fingers slide down my neck and around my collar, "I hadn't thought of my own forgiveness from anyone other than you. I have had my bliss and go on having it in your arms while you are in mine. This was what mattered and the realization that I could bring happiness to my Josette... after all of this madness toward you... Maggie."
"Your love was misguided, dearest Barnabas and when we are misguided we do wretched things we never believe and rarely understand. Even empty attentions. Silent omissions."
He released me from his hold and stood up, then took my hand and arms, helping me to my feet. "I've been in too much disbelief to want more than what I have now. But if you want me to take on this stronger task, I must ask you to lead me toward it, Maggie. My bride."
From along his neck, I let my hand drift down his bare chest, smooth, handsome, and treasure that he was to me and always must be. I knew.
Taking his hand I led him away from the fire. I began removing my robe then he helped to slip it off from my arms as we let it fall to the floor. What was left of his sleeping attire I removed, then kissed his legs, his hips and his torso as I worked my way back up to reach his mouth. As I did he pulled my nightdress up over my head and I raised my arms. As all was undone we embraced once more, his skin along so much of mine.
His arms came forward and my elbow bent and tucked between us, he took my hand and kissed it tenderly, then looked up into my eyes. "What do you want me to do?"
Stepping backward, I pulled him toward the bed. We crept beneath the sheets and it gave me a small amusement that I was taking his usual side of the mattress. He leaned himself higher on his elbow, stroking my face, my side, arm, bosom, and back to the neck again. He asked again, shooting a look of longing, "Josette? What do you want me to do?"
"Come back to me, my darling. Accept yourself as the gentleman you've become again. We all have The Beast in us. We all wrestle with similar struggles. Perhaps if you feel me in my forgiveness, you'll learn to grace yourself with it."
A dark, nervous utterance from this as his half-closed eyes beckoned into mine, "What do you wish me to think of? Or dare I ask, to believe?"
"Lie still a moment, my love," I told him and then gestured for him to turn so that his back was pressed against this little nest of ours. One focal point, but not the only condition of us. As our bond grew in. I remembered his proposal, how he'd returned from the past again, how I saw his face and what he'd been through and the love I had... knowing he'd finally suffered it all and come back to me, whole, complete.
His hands slid down my shoulders, massaging my arms, sliding down further... withholding a moment to grasp at my heart, then continued, stroking my stomach, my sides and back up, reaching me down to blend my lips with his again. Gliding our arms above as I leaned down, our hands coiled together on the pillows over his head. We clasped there, our fingers entwined, and our union became fulfilled. An honour from him to me, as it always was.
How he loved me and how I understood that he did. The messages needed to come out now, I knew. As this happened I took what I knew and sent it to him, my thoughts, my feelings, and all I could of my forgiveness, urging him to hear it, see it, listen to it, let it become a part of him.
His kiss turned somewhat dormant and I knew it had reached his mind... but would it reach his heart? We became still, but breathing. It took some moments and I understood it was flooding into him. Then his kiss became more fervent and I grappled his shoulders, then bedclothes, trying to break him free.
His answer? Almost a weep... almost for he is not prone to it, far too melancholy, as we all know Barnabas to be. But now? I could hear his heart ache in the blessing. Sharing this experience with him, doing more than speaking but showing him how I felt with these new powers we held: Relieving something more than having the physical proof that we were together here. And his passion grew, the beat of his heart increased, his arms fastened around me, clenching mouths, the air from our lungs moving swiftly back and forth as we did... Turning so suddenly I wasn't sure myself how it happened. I was on my back now and he was above me.
Barnabas came upon me, urgently kissing me, holding me so tightly and bringing himself to me stronger than I could remember him doing before. He reached down to my knees, even in this request I knew he was getting used to some of my techniques and wanted them. I raised my legs and rested them gently along his backside. The motions continued and the kissing, the subtle breaths and moans between us. His lips were upon me, pursing along the midsection of my sternum, as he nourished himself above and I enjoyed it with him. I ran my nails down the flesh of his shoulder blades as he and I inhaled so deeply and so quickly.
In all of the excitement I did my best to move myself in a giving way, feeling his love for me all over, as if trying to reach himself into my heart. He pulled his face away from my chest and brought his lips to mine, our rhythm slowing, our breaths becoming calmer and I finally realized why this was happening. He's released himself from his inner tortures towards me... and with that he had unburdened his soul.
I looked into his eyes and our cognizant images flooded me. The door opening, I standing there in my old costumes of bygone days, some recent. The waitress outfit he first saw me in, the purple dress in 1897 I so often wore, the masses of waves and curls that I had from even farther back. In my striped gown and I, opening the box with a "gift" that had terrified me so. Ha! Such silly trifles of horror would never trouble me now. "A globe of the world," my Barnabas had said, "Someone has given us the world." Oh, yes, I thought,Now... we have that world.
His memories of seeing me when we'd stepped into each other's lives again and again, even a thought of another girl who resembled me and how he felt about her. The remembrances fled over and between our hearts and minds as he held himself aloft, even the thrush of air as we breathed exciting the skin along our cheeks. I could tell there was a small amount of perspiration on us, but in the low lighting it didn't show so well.
"Ah, Barnabas," I confirmed, as he looked down on me, "that wider smile I remember. That glad generosity. That's the man I know. A little surprise, the bare hint of glee, just the bare hint."
A curious wonder marked his expression as well as he remained above me, holding himself up to allow us space and air, but still with me, I could feel his pulse there begin to slow down. "Should I pull away?" he asked, letting a small seriousness creep back in.
"Not if you don't want to," I answered, "we're in this to share, if you recall. And I saw it all, Barnabas and how you feel about me. Neither of us need have doubts about it, anymore."
He fell to one side of me, and drifting his touch up and down my body in so many places.
"How did we accomplish all of this, my darling? Merely the two of us?"
I scooped him in my embrace, "Oh, Barnabas," I chortled, as Maggie Evans as I could say it, "you and I have lived a long, long time."
And then I held him in my arms so we could bless each other in this kiss.
My husband delivered one thought as we enfolded our lips, "Merci, Josette... Merci."
A share of your thoughts makes all the difference. Peace.