CHAPTER 39 — FOOLISH DECISION

Something brushed against Scarlet’s shoulder, dragging her out of the darkness that clouded her vision. She struggled to pull her tired eyelids apart as she felt someone nudge her shoulder once more.

“Mm?” she moaned softly, stretching stiff legs on the cot. As she battled to take control of her body, a loud clatter resounded through the walls, helping to defog her mind and awaken her completely.

She struggled to a sitting position, scrubbing her eyes with her sleeves. Her hand dropped to her side, her vision coming to settle on Millie, who stood before her with tears streaming down her face.

“What…”

“Monster!” Millie wailed, pointing to the door.

Scarlet turned confused eyes to the door, finding nothing. Turning her attention back to Millie, she said, “Did you have a bad dream?”

Millie shook her head, turning briefly to the closed door and back to Scarlet. A loud sound followed Millie’s action, causing her to fall to her knees before Scarlet’s cot.

“I want Mama!”

Sighing softly, Scarlet gathered Millie into her arms. “That is just Papa,” she whispered softly, rocking Millie back and forth. “It’s Papa.” Tears stung her eyes in that minute, as she thought of her grieving father; they were losing him again. He was avoiding them and spending sleepless nights carrying out his anger on furniture or whiskey bottles—the same thing he had done when their mother died.

She brushed her lips against Millie’s sweaty forehead, tightening her hold around her. Humming a lullaby, she had heard Lily sing many times, it was only a matter of time before Millie was snoring softly against her shoulder.

Slowly, she turned and placed Millie’s sleeping form on her cot, before placing a blanket over her. She pushed herself to her feet and gently made her way across the floorboards, careful not to awake them. She pushed the door wide open and stepped into the dark hallway, closing the door behind her.

Turning to the side, she made her way to her father’s room, where she knew the sound was coming from, and pushed the door wide open, neglecting to knock. The door gave way to a dimly lit room, cold immediately washing over her body as she stood by it. Forcing her legs forward, she made her way into the room, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. The sheets on the bed laid sprawled on the wooden floor, the room smelled strongly of whiskey and her father sat in the midst of the darkness with piles of clothes surrounding him as a massive trunk sat before him.

“Papa?” she whispered softly, making her way to him. He ignored her as she approached, fingers clinging tightly to a silver dress she recognized as belonging to Lily.

Scarlet felt anger race through her veins as she watched her father mourn a woman who walked out on them. Lily didn’t care, why should Papa care about her?! Why should Papa mourn when she wasn’t dead, but in a boarding house somewhere?! Why should Millie or any of her siblings have to suffer when Lily walked away from them willfully?! Hadn’t Lily admitted it herself, hadn’t she admitted to only showing up to the farm to say goodbye? Scarlet hadn’t understood the rest of the conversation, but she had fully understood Lily’s intention was to leave them.

With her face crumbling into a frown, she went to her knees before her father and began gathering the clothes that littered the floor into her hand. She felt her father’s eyes on her as she worked, turning briefly to acknowledge him. Forcing a smile to her lips, she encouraged him with her eyes before turning her attention to the work before her, putting Lily’s clothes into a trunk that would be delivered to her in the boarding house. Much more than that, Scarlet was ridding herself and her entire family of the memory of a woman who was and would never be their mother.

***

Lily’s fingers curled around the blanket, her entire body—but for her head—buried in its warmth.

It had become impossible to ignore the consistent pounding in her head, and with her lack of food intake lately, she was quickly losing strength. It didn’t matter how much she tried to convince herself to eat, she couldn’t. Just that afternoon, she had finally given in to Fiona’s pleas to eat a few bites of the chicken salad. She had only got in a few bites before everything came traveling up her throat, out of her mouth and to the carpet in a matter of split seconds. Warmth had immediately enveloped her skin while her insides became as frozen as ice.

“Do you feel anything else, Lily?”

She shook her head, turning slightly to the side towards Michael, who stood over her. Fiona had been worried enough to call Michael, ignoring Lily’s pleas not to bother. A part of her had been uncertain about seeing Michael, nervous even. She knew Raymond didn’t like him, but as quickly as she thought of Raymond’s dislike for him, she remembered the fact that she was no longer with Raymond; the realization threw her into another episode of vomiting. By the time Michael arrived, she had emptied her stomach of the little meal she had forced into it, and was left lying in bed, weak.

“Will she be alright?” Fiona stood to the side, hands clasped before her.

Michael turned briefly to acknowledge Fiona, before turning back to Lily with a frown creasing his face. “Loss of appetite, a fever, general weakness…” He paused, his frown deepening as he studied Lily. “I suspect that she’s pregnant…”

A loud gasp followed his announcement. Lily turned to find Fiona standing by the fireplace, mouth hanging wide open. Fiona’s surprise did nothing to reflect the state of Lily’s mind, one of not only shock, but confusion and sudden fear. She, however, did not allow herself the chance to consider the words of the doctor, for she was tired and in desperate need of sleep.

Releasing a breath, she was only now realizing she had been holding, she turned from both Fiona and Michael, her eyelids pulling together as she gave in to her fatigue.

She was woken up in what she assumed, from the state of her mind and rested body, to be a few hours later, to the sound of hushed whispers and something heavy being dragged across the carpeted floor. She laid still for a while and fought to listen to the sounds in the room.

“Very well, leave!” Fiona said tersely. “I won’t have you waking her up.”

“I don’t intend to.” Raymond! Her heart pounded wildly at the sound of his voice in the room. “I don’t think she’d want to see me. Here, give this to her.”

She struggled to a sitting position then, ignoring common sense as it scolded her for giving in to her desire to see him. The thought of him leaving and never being able to see him again frightened her.

“Raymond?” A soft wince escaped her lips as the headache intensified. She pressed her hands against the mattress to steady herself. She stared at him, her heart rate intensifying even more at the sight of his weary face. It had only been a week since she last saw him—a week since she went to the farm and made the foolish decision of walking away from him and the children.

Of course, it was a foolish decision! She didn’t know why, but looking at him right now made her realize it was. She loved him, and she didn’t want to lose him.

“I brought your trunk,” he murmured, rubbing his neck nervously. Fiona stood by his left-hand side, an annoyed look on her face. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Lily shook her head, wanting nothing but to climb out of the bed and run to him. She moved her body to stand, the wave of dizziness that suddenly washed over her, reminding her of her present state, her pregnancy. Wasn’t that what Raymond despised, that she had gotten pregnant once? Wasn’t that the one thing he didn’t want? She hadn’t given herself the chance to dwell on it in the past, but the knowledge had remained, the scene of him screaming at the top of his voice, conceding to not wanting their baby and trying to kill it, replaying repeatedly in her head.

He wouldn’t want this baby; he wouldn’t want it just like he hadn’t wanted the last one.

“I also hoped you would sign this.” He placed a document on the edge of the bed, where her foot was.

Her eyes followed the movement of his hands until the edge of the document was poking at her toes. She stared at it, confused. Raising her eyes back to him, she felt her face crumble into a frown.

“What is it?” She managed.

“A request for a divorce.”