|
The day was too beautiful to continue observing the
unhappiness. Seeing Giles like this hurt her inexplicably. It was mostly
this, but she was also adamant about getting out of her mourning dress. So
pathetic. It always was. Rules of convention. She'd already broken them by
only wearing black for one week after they declared Jeremiah dead...lost
at sea. There was no body, no grave. The church service was a farce. He
hadn't even ever gone and the vicar had no idea who she was, let alone
him. She'd married because it was 'time' she did. So everyone here that
she and pa knew had said. He was nice enough, she didn't love him. Given
time maybe she could have. That's what else they'd said. She doubted it,
though would never know. One thing she was sure, what she felt wasn't
love. Couldn't be. She wasn't an expert; she just knew she hadn't found
unity with who her spirit was seeking. Two random souls, no, there was
half a soul searching for its partner. He was out there and she knew who
it was.
As she walked down the hill towards the lighthouse she paused - couldn't
help looking back at the grave that now graced the landscape of one of the
places she went for solace and solitude. This hidden spot high on the hill
between Gilman Manor and Palisade. Now she would have to find someplace
new. Everyone had gone save Giles and his father. Coleman Cavender
appeared to be trying to soothe his son. She watched intently. Giles was
inconsolable. To avoid interfering and scrutiny she turned and felt the
salt air on her face. It was quiet, you could hear the waves. "That," she
knew, "that is love, the love I lost."
It was still early; pa would still be in bed. The lighthouse made your
work hours different than most people. She understood. It also afforded
her time to do things she wanted before cooking a morning meal for him.
Today, it had been young Kesiah Cavender's funeral.
She approached the bottom of the slope that led to the main road through
town, stopped, looked around - the town was busy working, she removed her
bonnet. Had always hated them anyway. Too many people were on the streets,
she went back behind the High Street and found the cobbled alley that
would take her home - and ran. She loved to run, mostly in the fields on
the estates or on the beach below her home where no one saw, never in
town. Pa had finally gotten through to her that this was unbecoming and
not ladylike, no matter your station. Today she ran. From what or why she
didn't know. People would still see her, though not as many. Pa would be
told. She didn't care. She ran fast, then grabbed her long, heavy black
dress in both hands from the hem and ran faster. She felt driven, not
stopping until she reached the cottage. Out of breath, sweaty,
discomfited, she opened the door and headed in. It felt good to be back
here...safe. From what?
Her father was awake...he stared at her, knew what she had done. It only
made her giggle as she prepared herself for another arduous day. As she
grabbed a pail to gather water for boiling, he playfully notified her that
the ladies would be round in short order to reprimand him on the unhealthy
upbringing of his daughter and the undignified behavior of a widow. The
twinkle in his eyes and his dimples, that she had inherited, bloomed fully
as he walked across the room and hugged her. She set the pail down and
hugged him back. The life she had here was more a blessing to her than he
realized. He had often told her he wished he could have provided better.
She always told him it was all she needed. She loved living here. She
picked the pail up once again. It was unexpectedly heavier. She almost
fell as Lizzy - her cat - jumped out and clung to pa's trousers. It made
her giggle again. "I'll be back pa, going down for water."
"You best keep an eye out for the ladies. You may want to stay hidden if
they show up," he joked as she set out. She laughed again as she pushed
hard and fast against the front door causing it to swing back and slam
hard. Barefoot now, her shoes had come off when she came home. She reached
and held one side of her dress up in one hand to keep from tripping, the
pail in the other. Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw
someone coming back towards the lighthouse from the top of the cliffs. She
had instinctive, immediate recognition. Giles. She didn't know why it
bothered her seeing him here now after having just left him at Kesiah's
grave, but it did. In top form she ran fast again, down towards the ocean
below and sat, in confusion, in the sand. |