CHAPTER 29 — EVERYTHING

Lily visited Fiona every week, and their friendship grew to where she held nothing back from Fiona. She realized, as she shared with Fiona, that talking about her misery made experiencing more misery a lot easier to endure.

Fiona understood Lily’s pain and shared with Lily some of her own terrible experiences with her husband. It was Fiona’s encouraging words that gave Lily the courage to remain with the children, even when she reread her great aunt’s letters and had the overwhelming desire to move to Pennsylvania.

She was sitting in Fiona’s living room one afternoon, knitting a sock for Millie, when Fiona asked if she would attend the town hall party. She shook her head, mentally reliving the horrendous event that had taken place the year before; James had ended up with a bloody nose, and Raymond had nearly beaten the living daylight out of Michael. Perhaps children had grown older, and she hadn’t run into Michael since then, but there was a part of her that dreaded the event.

“Oh?!” Fiona sounded disappointed, placing her knitting wool and pin on her lap. “It would have been my first party in this town. I was formally invited.”

“It holds too many terrible memories.”

“But you would sentence me to a grievously boring evening if you do not come!” Fiona pouted.

Lily knitted faster. Turning down Fiona’s request would nearly be unfair considering how kind Fiona had been to her in the last few weeks. But when she thought of Raymond, she knew he wouldn’t be pleased if she requested to go once again.

“I—”

“You will reconsider, will you not?” Fiona beamed.

Lily sighed, nodding  

She reconsidered, deciding it would be different this time. She would attend the party with Fiona, leave the children behind with Raymond, and with Fiona’s servant picking her from the farm and dropping her off when the party was over, she wouldn’t need to bother Raymond.

When Raymond came into the house that evening, she put her knitting aside and told him of her decision. He didn’t respond, but from the rigidity of his back was to her as he sat at the table eating his dinner, while she sat across in the living room knitting, she knew he heard her.

Turning her attention back to her knitting, she raised her gaze when she heard the chair scraping against the floorboards. Raymond stood by the table, staring at her.

Her gaze fell back to the unfinished socks in her hands.

“I should attend this one with you,” he began, causing her to turn to him once more. He shook his head and rubbed his neck, appearing nervous. “It is only appropriate, Lily.”

She turned back to her knitting, fighting the urge to lash out at him. “Do nothing because you feel it is appropriate. I will be in the company of a woman this time, but if you are uncomfortable with it, I won’t go.”

“Please…” He sighed loudly, and she mentally pictured him rubbing his neck. “I won’t stop you from attending.”

“Good.” She rose to her feet, frustrated with the unfinished sock and especially Raymond. She dumped the sock on the sofa. “Good night.”

She turned from him to the stairs, pausing at the foot when something took hold of her wrist, stopping her. She turned to him, his green eyes betraying his feelings—he loved her. Yet, she could not understand the contradiction in his behavior.

She turned away, unable to stare into his eyes, as she fought the urge to kiss him.

“Permit me to come along as your husband,” he finally spoke, his voice pleading.

She wanted to point out the fact that he had been anything but her husband these past few weeks, but she didn’t. She, instead, wiggled her wrist free and shook her head.

“I would like to go with Fiona.” Hurt flashed in his eyes as she spoke, filling her with remorse. However, the part of her that was hurt and neglected, wanted to hurt him further. “Being a husband is not a role you can play when it suits you.” She folded her arms across her chest, anger racing through her veins. “Do not act like you care about me, Raymond, you do not! You only care about yourself and your selfish desires. You can only think about yourself! Which is why you tricked me into coming here and getting married to you. You didn’t care about me when you lied to me, neglected me, walked out on me and completely ignored me!” Her voice rose with every word she spoke. “You didn’t care about being a husband then,” she spat. “You do not care about being a father! The only thing you care about is pleasing yourself, and I will no longer aid your selfish ambitions. You will not escort me as my husband,” she leaned forward and glared into his eyes, “because you have never been my husband.”

And with that, she continued her ascent up the stairs, trembling with rage.

***

Lily’s words washed over him and sunk into his very being until it became impossible to stand. Trembling, he placed himself on the stairs and buried his face in his hands.

He lost her. He sighed. The very thing he fought to avoid by staying away from her had occurred: he had lost her.

As he sat there, he remembered her words and knew she was right; he was selfish. Everything he had done—putting up an ad, putting her to work on the farm and to care for his children, being intimate with her, and neglecting her—was done for himself. He needed a mother for his children. He needed a housekeeper. At some point, he needed a companion to keep him warm at night. He didn’t want to lose her. He didn’t want another child.

What did she want? It was the first time he bothered to ask that question, and as he thought about it, he realized he wanted to know the answer. Much more than that, he wanted to give her what she wanted.

Rising to his feet, he made his way up the stairs. He reached the room and pushed the door wide open, not bothering to knock.

“Lily?” he called, stepping into the room. She turned from him as he approached where she laid on the bed.

“I do not want to talk to you, Ray,” she murmured to the wall.

“I’m sorry,” he said, settling on the bed beside her.

She moved further away from him. “I don’t care.”

Her words broke his heart, but he decided he deserved it. “I know you care, and it is this knowledge that has aided my cruelty.” He sighed, placing his hand over hers. “You were right; I’m selfish, but even that is not an excuse for how I’ve treated you.”

She turned to him, frustration in her eyes. “Why are you here, Raymond?”

He stared at her, unable to answer her question for a long while. He wanted to say he was sorry, and he was wrong, but he knew it wouldn’t be enough.

“I’m here to make things right,” he said, touching her face. “Let me make this right.”

She searched his eyes for a few seconds. “I cannot understand what keeps happening. What keeps going wrong? I try so hard to understand, but I cannot.”

“It is my fault.” He moved further into the bed until he was sitting beside her. Then he pulled her into his arms. “I love you, Lily,” he said, thankful when she didn’t pull away from him. “I have been nobody’s husband in nearly three years. Please forgive me for my many shortcomings.”

She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him. “I try so hard to hate you, Ray,” she whispered against his neck, “but I’m only capable of loving you.”

A smile settled on his face as he untangled her arms from around him. He leaned down slightly and pressed his lips to hers, closing his eyes as he savored the feeling of kissing her.

She returned his kiss, her hand stroking his neck as she did so. As their kiss deepened, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her further into him as he stretched out his legs on the bed and laid flat on his back.

“Ray,” she murmured against his lips, leaning back slightly.

He frowned slightly and pulled her further down. “Hm?” His hands found the ribbon that held her hair bound and pulled it off, causing her hair to cascade down her shoulders.

She moved, rising to her knees and pulling him up with her. When he tried to kiss her again, she shook her head.

“Lily…” he protested.

“You called me Rachel once.” She turned away. “You were asleep, but it doesn’t matter.”

“I’m sorry.” He was uncertain of how else to respond, for he had no memory of the event.

“I know.” She climbed out of the bed and walked to the fireplace. Settling on the chair by the fire with her back to him, she continued, “You love her, Ray. Even in death, you love Rachel.” She reached up and began pulling her messy hair into a braid.

He watched her braid her hair, enchanted by how beautiful she looked just sitting there by the fire.

“You would make for a beautiful painting,” he heard himself say. She paused and turned briefly to him. He sighed, knowing he hadn’t meant to say that, but also knowing she would require an explanation. “I have painted nothing in years, Lily, but I’m suddenly thinking of painting again. I thought of painting the first morning I woke up with you by my side.” He stared down at his blistered hands, wondering if they still had the ability to paint anything worthwhile. “I only ever painted Rachel,” he murmured. “I only ever loved Rachel, and I thought I was only ever capable of loving Rachel…” He smiled. “Then I put out that ad and a blond head showed up on my doorstep.”

When he raised his eyes to Lily, he found her staring at him with tears in her eyes.

He rose to his feet and covered the distance between them. Tugging on her arm, she rose to her feet. He placed his hand against the side of her face. “If you would permit me, I would love to make a painting of you.”

She lifted her hand and placed her palm against his chest. “I didn’t know you could paint,” she whispered.

“I know.” He nodded once.

She sighed. “Will you tell me everything, Ray? Will you tell me about Rachel?”

He hadn’t spoken of Rachel and their life together in many years. But as he stared at Lily, he knew he wanted to; he wanted to tell her everything. He nodded to her words, and she gave a nod in response. She took his hand and led him to sit in the chair by the fireplace. He settled on it, and she settled on his lap.

“Alright, Ray, tell me everything—tell me about Rachel.”