Charles/Laura fic, Chapter 10 'Through Time & Seasons'
Through Time & Seasons
By Missbevcrusher
Rated [M]
Chapter 10 ~ Watchful Steps
Took me long enough to post, huh? Real life has been hectic so it couldn't be helped. However, I do want to say that I have not forgotten this story, nor do I intend to. I'll do my best to be more speedy with the next chapter. Hope the wait was worth it. If not, I sincerely apologize. I would also like to take the time to thank all of those who have encouraged me to write this fic. Your 'cheerleading' meant a lot. I would also like to thank my wonderful beta for taking the time to go over this. You're totally awesome, bytesofspencer
Previous parts can be found here. Also, I am planning on writing brief recaps of every chapter so as to make it easier to find the story's thread when memory fails. I will also make a list of the characters with a brief explanation as to who they are because I often get 'Who was that again?'. It's easy to forget the names of minor characters, especially the ones that weren't in the actual movie.
Standard disclaimer: Laura Brown, Charles Lattimer, and the wonderful story that is 'For All Time' belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended. I am simply writing what I would have loved to see at the end of the movie and then some.
The thread was weak; it gave way, making the top button of Charles’ jacket fall to the floor.
“What the…” he said as his eyes followed the tiny disk as it bounced, rolled in a semi circle before eventually falling still.
With a shake of his head, he went to retrieve it, the words, “Are you kidding me?” muttered under his breath.
Out of all the times for this to happen, it had to be now-mere minutes before he was to leave for church.
What made this day especially nerve racking was that he was supposed to share a picnic with Laura’s family after service in the hopes of getting her mother accustomed to having him around.
Mrs. Clark did not yet know of his courtship with Laura and the picnic was a means to ease him into their lives.
It would not be an easy transition, he knew-the road to winning her over sure to be a long one. While he had never been intimidated by the older woman, gaining her acceptance meant a great deal-especially to Laura.
Standing there, fallen button in hand, Charles debated what to do.
Living on average means, his wardrobe was not extensive. In fact, he only had two jackets. The one that now hung in his armoire had sustained a tear while on a repair job with Abrams. Mrs. Davis had kindly sewn a patch on it. But this being Sunday-a very important one at that-Charles had hoped to wear his best coat, the one that now missed a button.
Oh the jacket itself was a far cry from the frock coat he had splurged on during his second visit here, but it was still appropriate for Sunday service, equal to par with what most farmers wore.
“You look like you’re waiting for the rain to water the crops,” Mrs. Davis noted as she walked into the parlour.
“A button fell off my jacket.”
“Oh well, that’s an easy fix. It’ll only take a second.”
“You’re a lifesaver, Mrs. Davis.” He handed the jacket and button over, an appreciative look in his eyes. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
While Mrs. Davis went to her sewing basket to get what she needed, Charles wandered over to the window and looked outside.
The weather was wonderful, perfect even. He just hoped this day would be also.
Take a deep breath, Charles…
~~~
“Mary, hurry up or we’re going to be late!” Laura called over her shoulder before perusing the contents of the picnic basket one last time.
“I can’t find my shoe!” The girl’s voice resounded from behind the wall panel.
With a shake of her head, Laura headed for Mary’s bedroom. “What do you mean you can’t find your shoe?”
Mary poked her head up from behind her bed, calmly replying, “It disappeared.”
On any other morning, she might have found her daughter’s little predicament amusing, but they were running a little behind as it was. With an exasperated sigh, Laura joined in the search for the elusive shoe. “It’s gotta be around here somewhere.”
At first, the search yielded nothing which was surprising considering how tidy Mary’s room was.
“When was the last time you saw it?”
Mary shrugged. “Last night, I guess.”
The familiar clank of the front door echoed throughout the house, followed by Mrs. Clark’s voice. “Laura? We’re gonna be late.”
“We’re just looking for Mary’s shoe. Be right out.”
“Got it!” Mary was leaning beside her dresser, arm reaching behind the wooden piece of furniture.
Mouth agape, Laura blinked a few times. “Just what was your shoe doing behind your dresser?”
“I don’t know.”
With a look that said she was not pleased, Laura continued. “You probably kicked it off last night and didn’t see where it landed.”
Mary responded with a smile, the word ‘caught’ written across her features.
With a slight roll of her eyes, Laura couldn’t keep a small smile from forming. Then, with a nudge of her head, she said, “Come on. We need to get going.”
Dear Lord, please let this day go smoothly…
~~~
By the time Charles made his way to the churchyard, his heart was drumming in his chest. But while he was somewhat nervous, he was in high spirits, floating, for gone were the days when he would stand at the very back of the church, stealing glances towards a woman who did not want to be with him. No, this morning was different, very different because this woman now longed to see him just as much as he longed to see her.
Together… we’re together now.
Eager to see Laura’s face again, Charles scanned the churchyard, looking for either yellow or dark blue, the color of her two Sunday dresses.
Only once he started up the steps did he catch glimpse of her. She was approaching from his left, dressed in the dark blue skirt and jacket she had worn that day at the rally.
So beautiful.
Slowing, Charles removed his hat and watched as she ushered Mary up the steps.
When their eyes met, the two shared a knowing smile, discrete and guarded.
God, it felt good to see her.
“Good morning, Mrs. Brown.” After the intimacy of the day before, it felt strange calling her by her last name. But they had discussed this on their way back from the river hollows, had decided to tread carefully.
“Good morning, Mr. Lattimer.” Laura’s voice floated on the breeze, as enchanting as always.
“Beautiful day,” he said.
She nodded. “It is.”
Their small talk felt forced but it was necessary.
Charles looked at Mary then, his smile widening. “Hi kid.”
“Hi,” she answered.
“Service is about to start.” interjected Mrs. Clark as she made her way up the steps, her tone crusty as usual.
While Laura’s demeanour reflected her displeasure toward her mother’s rude interruption, Charles took it in stride by going along with the older woman. “We better go inside then.”
In the chivalrous tradition of ladies first, he waited until they had crossed the threshold before following. Charles then took a seat a few rows behind them, meeting Laura’s gaze as she made her way toward the center of her pew.
Deciphering a hint of apology in her eyes, he sought to reassure her by way of a discreet wink, earning him a mirthful expression.
God, she’s wonderful…
Laura was such a lovely person, beautiful, stunningly so. She was kind, compassionate, loving-basically everything he had ever looked for in a woman and more.
He could sit here and gaze at her, think about her all day, his wonderment never diminishing.
Such was the affect she had on him.
Throughout the sermon, Charles tried to focus, he really did, but the words just weren’t registering. The bulk of his focus kept funnelling to the pew two rows ahead, making him more than a little eager for the service to conclude.
When it finally did, Charles started for the aisle, waiting for a break in the stream of people before stepping out of his row.
“Well who do we have here?” These words, spoken on soft laughter, echoed from behind him.
Turning, Charles saw his former employer steadily making his way up the aisle, his back hunched.
“Mr. Abrams.”
“I thought I told you to call me Norman.”
At this, Charles couldn’t help but chuckle. “You did. Sorry.”
As people filed out, the two men lingered in the aisle, careful to stay to one side so as not to block anyone’s path.
“What in the world are ya still doin’ here? Thought you’d be in St. Louis by now.”
Running a hand through his hair, Charles smiled and shook his head. “Change of plans I guess.”
“Is that so?” Though his vision sometimes failed him, the old man seemed to catch a glimpse of something just over Charles’ shoulder. His expression immediately changed from a look of curiosity to one of realization. With a slow nod, he started smiling and looked back to his former protégé.
Curious as to what Abrams had seen, Charles looked over his shoulder, his eyes falling on Laura.
She stood at the entrance, hands clasped in front of her, waiting for him.
Turning to the old man once again, he laughed softly, momentarily looking down as a way of saying ‘you caught me’.
“Well, glad you decided stay.”
“I am too.”
Abrams cleared his throat. “Look uh… We might not have as much work for you now that my son’s coming back to the shop, but if you want to come in for a few hours here and there, you’ll always be welcome.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.”
“It’s nothin’. Just wish I had more to offer, ya know?”
“Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out and get another job on the side.”
With a glance toward the entrance, Abrams smiled once more. “You should go. Think someone’s waitin’ for ya.”
“Yeah, guess you’re right.” Nodding one last time, Charles turned around and started towards Laura.
As he neared her, he couldn’t help but return the smile she gave.
“Hey,” Charles said, his tone gentle as always.
Standing there, the two shared a look that spoke volumes.
If anyone would have taken the time to scrutinize them, their courtship would have undoubtedly gone from secret to common knowledge.
“Ready?” Laura asked, upbeat nervousness lacing her voice.
“I don’t know. You?”
At this, Laura laughed softly. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”
Exiting the church, Charles donned his hat. “Is your mother expecting me? Or are we about to catch her off guard?”
“I told her I was going to ask you to join us when service ended.”
Charles winced inwardly for he could easily imagine the look her mother must have worn-definitely not a happy expression.
Better brace yourself…
But while he was nervous, Charles was not one to cower or shy away from engaging the older woman in conversation.
She had been cold with him from the get-go yet he had always taken it in stride, had replied to her queries in a pleasant manner, even flattering her on occasion.
It wasn’t that he considered himself to be a boot-licker, he was not. But Charles had never been one to let intimidation bother him. In fact, there was something about the older woman that endeared her to him. Whilst he did not know her very well, had only spoken to her on two occasions really, Charles sensed that her crusty exterior was not born out of malice but rather out of protectiveness for her daughter.
While this would undoubtedly make the transition a bumpy one, it was comforting in a way, to know that someone had Laura’s back.
Eyes scanning the churchyard, Charles took a deep breath.
The scene around him was reminiscent of illustrated storybooks-family’s gathered around picnic baskets, women sitting with their skirts fanned out around them, little parasols perched on their shoulders.
It was picturesque, the imagery made all the more vivid by the smells and sounds of this vast, almost virgin countryside.
“It’ll be fine.” Laura’s words, spoken low, barely reached his ears.
It was cute in a way, how she was trying to reassure him even though she was just as nervous as he was.
Wanting to mirror her self-persuading optimism, Charles smiled. “You’re right. It’ll be okay.”
As the two shared quiet laughter, he shook his head, a stray thought coming to mind.
What a pair we make.
They were intentionally deluding themselves, no doubt about it. But as silly as it seemed, Charles could almost believe that the afternoon would go smoothly, was almost convinced of it even-until he saw Mrs. Clark that is.
The steely glare she shot him was nothing less than a wrecking ball, more than enough to shatter the fragile illusion he and Laura had briefly indulged in.
She sat on a bench beneath a tree, her demeanour scrutinizing, suspicious even.
Oh boy…
Doing his best to ignore the fact that he felt like a fattened pig ready for slaughter, Charles plastered a smile on his face, tipped his hat and said, “Good morning, Mrs. Clark.”
“Mr. Lattimer.” Whilst she had acknowledged his presence, the older woman’s tone was curt and devoid of welcome.
Normally, Charles would have taken this as a bad sign; but since he had expected nothing more than a grunt and a cold shoulder, he chose to see it as a good omen. Well… as good as could be expected in this scenario.
“Are you really going to join us for a picnic, Mr. Lattimer?” Mary’s voice floated on the breeze as she made her way over, a picnic basket under one arm, a folded blanket under the other.
“Yes, I am. Your mom invited me.”
The girl seemed rather pleased, smiling from ear to ear. “We’re having fried chicken and biscuits.”
“Sounds delicious.”
With Laura’s help, Mary unfolded the blanket and set it on the grass by the bench. Once that was done, they all sat around the basket-except for Mrs. Clark who remained on the bench.
Sitting in the shade of a nearby tree, his arms loosely draped over his knees, Charles watched as Laura produced a cloth covered bundle.
Unfolding the corners, she revealed their lunch and started serving.
Seeing Laura and Mary together was always heart-warming, the way they spoke to one another, the easy-going manner between them. Theirs was a very close mother-
daughter relationship, very beautiful to witness.
It had been one of the things that had drawn him here. Seeing them play by the river that first day had been a revelation, how happiness belonged not to those who looked to material things to fill the void, but to the people who took the time to cherish their loved ones.
“Perfect day for a picnic,” he observed, his gaze gravitating to Laura.
When her eyes met his, the warmth and sparkle in them was nearly enough to topple him.
“It is,” she echoed.
For the briefest of instants, Charles forgot about Mrs. Clark, forgot about everything but the woman sitting across from him.
He would never cease to be astounded by the multifaceted layers of Laura’s personality. He was genuinely captivated by her maternal gentleness, incredibly impressed by her headstrong determination. Never before had he met anyone like her.
The world was on the edge of change and Laura was more than ready for it, would certainly plunge head first into the new opportunities that lay ahead. Not only that, but she was raising a daughter who would no doubt push her way through life.
Good mothers lead by example, and in his eyes, Laura was doing just that and more.
Snapping out of his daydream, Charles took the plate of food she offered. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
After everyone had been handed their lunch, the foursome settled for their meal-a slight awkwardness permeating the air as few words were exchanged.
As he ate, Charles couldn’t help but notice a few curious glances thrown their way. The buzz of gossip was all-pervading, the small town tittle-tattle not very hard to imagine.
“Would you look at that? Mrs. Brown is having lunch with that Lattimer fella. Do you suppose they’re courting?”
While he was proud to be seen with Laura, Charles felt uneasy about the unspoken message they were sending out-mainly because of Mrs. Clark.
For the past several minutes, he had felt her stare-ever present and piercing in its study of him.
She was not a naïve woman-stern and set in her ways, yes, but definitely not naïve.
Charles supposed she would put two and two together fairly quickly-if she hadn’t already.
From the looks of it, Laura was thinking the exact same thing he was, her eyes suggesting that she knew the jig was up.
As their picnic drew to a close, Charles initiated a conversation with the elderly woman-an endeavour that earned him a sympathetic look from Laura as his attempt at small talk was mostly one sided.
The topics were random, from speculation as to how the crops would fare this year to the goings on around town.
Throughout, Charles did his best to appear upbeat and courteous. Because, truth be told, he was starting to feel like an idiot.
Laura must have sensed this for she quickly came to his rescue by jumping into the conversation.
Soon, even Mary joined in, bringing much cheerfulness.
During his exchange with the young girl, Laura simply watched, a small smile gracing her lips, illuminating her eyes.
Being here with them, it felt right, family-like even. It lifted Charles’ heart, bringing with it a sense of belonging.
“Hope y’all saved room for dessert.”
Her face brightening up at the sound of the heavily twanged female voice, Mary exclaimed, “Aunt Sally!”
“Hi there, deary.” The woman Charles recognized from the general store smiled as she knelt beside the girl, basket in hand. “Made ya some cookies.”
“You did?” Mary practically dove into the basket, eliciting soft laughter from her mother.
“Hello, Sally,” Laura said.
“Mrs. Stevens,” Charles nodded in greeting.
“Well if it isn’t our town hero.” Sally handed the basket of cookies over to Laura, a hint of playful curiosity in her eyes. No doubt she was wondering why he was hanging around. “Just have to say, I love the cartoons you drew for Laura’s paper.”
Charles smiled modestly. “Thank you.”
“Well they’re a hit. Everybody loves ‘em.” Turning to Laura, Sally asked, “Sorry to
ask this out of the blue, but do you think you could help out at the bake sale next Saturday?”
Blinking a few times, Laura answered, “Um… yes, of course. If nothing comes up at the paper, certainly.”
“Great.” As Sally’s beaming expression morphed into a small wince, she continued, “Now I hate to interrupt this little gathering of yours, but we’re having a little meetin’ over yonder, deciding who’ll make what. It’ll only take a few minutes. Would you mind?”
Charles couldn’t help but notice the indecisiveness in Laura, how her eyes flickered back and forth between himself and Mrs. Stevens. Knowing her, she probably wasn’t too keen on the idea of leaving him alone with her mother.
As a way to reassure her, he smiled. “Go on. It’s fine. Mary here will keep me company while you’re gone.”
Wearing a look of apology, Laura rose, smoothing her skirt. “I’ll just be a second.”
Raising his hand, Charles nodded once, then watched as the two women started to leave.
“Want a cookie, Mr. Lattimer?” Mary tilted the basket toward him.
“I’d love one, thank you.”
“Grandma?”
As the girl held the cookies toward her, Mrs. Clark’s expression remained serious, her stare locked onto Charles like a hawk. “Would you give us a moment, Child?”
Mary did not argue, simply grabbed one more cookie then shrugged before getting to her feet and walking away.
While he wasn’t the type to shake in his shoes, Charles cringed inwardly nonetheless, the words, “Here we go…” floating in his mind.
…
“So?” Sally spoke in hushed tones, her voice showing expectant curiosity. “You gonna fill me in or not?”
As she made her way across the churchyard, Laura felt an odd mixture of gaiety and nervousness. The latter having the upper hand, she looked over her shoulder only to have her stomach turn topsy-turvy.
Her worst fear had become reality-Charles was alone with her mother.
With a gentle tug on Sally’s sleeve, Laura hastened her steps. Not bothering to hide her worry, she then answered, “I promise to fill you in later. Just now, we need to get this meeting over with.”
Her feet carrying her as fast as was appropriate, Laura prayed everything would go well.
…
Mrs. Clark’s stern watch had not wavered, had not faltered. Her chin elevated slightly, she looked down at him through her glasses, eyes narrowed.
Her silence was deafening, making Charles wish for a speedy conclusion to what was sure to be an interesting conversation.
Feeling at a slight disadvantage from his position on the ground, he stood and calmly sat beside her, his hands linked between his knees. “What’s on your mind, Mrs. Clark?”
“I would ask you why you’ve stuck around Somerville, Mr. Lattimer, but you see… I’m not that dense. I’m old and set in my ways, yes, but not an imbecile.”
Charles was not surprised by these words, did the only thing he could at this point-nod respectfully and wait for her to continue.
God help me…
…
“So we have Mrs. Abbot for custard pie and Mrs. Stevens for peach puddin’.”
Never before had a simple list of names and recipes seemed so dreadfully long. Laura was trying her best to look interested, but in reality, her mind was elsewhere-mainly toward Charles and her mother.
I hope she goes easy on him.
“Now for apple roll…” Mrs. Branch looked up from her notebook, silver hair pulled in a tight bun beneath the brim of her straw hat. “Who wants it?”
Momentarily snapping out of her musings, Laura tried her best to sound enthused. “I’ll do it.”
With a singsong voice that seemed almost too cheerful, Mrs. Branch replied, “Alright then, Mrs. Brown for apple roll.”
Chancing a glance toward the bench, Laura cringed inwardly.
The two were sitting side by side, her mother speaking to him with an almost menacing expression.
Sakes alive…
…
“I’m also not the type to mince words or sugar-coat things, so I’ll be up front with you.” Pursing her lips, Mrs. Clark paused, then blurted, “I wish you’d never come here, would’ve preferred if you had kept your strange ideas in St. Louis and away from my daughter.”
At this, Charles said nothing.
“Laura’s…” A flicker of emotion showing through her otherwise severe expression, Mrs. Clark looked away. “She’s lived a hard life and doesn’t need unnecessary heartache.”
Not only did Charles understand this statement, but he agreed with it, wholeheartedly. Laura had been through enough, carried much on her shoulders. Respectful of the older woman, he waited, watched her profile as she clenched her jaw.
“I may not know exactly what happened between the two of you, but I know this… You did or said something that hurt her, very much. Now while things seem all fine for now…” Mrs. Clark met his eyes once more, a clear warning in her expression. “You better not break my daughter’s heart again. You understand me?”
When Charles opened his mouth to speak, the older woman averted her eyes once more, kept her gaze on the goings on in the churchyard. Swallowing, he pondered what to say, knew that denying her assumptions would not only be unwise but disrespectful.
“You’re right,” he started, his voice repentant. “I did hurt Laura, deeply, and I regret it more than you can even imagine.”
The moment hung there, the mood on the wooden bench in stark contrast to the joyful atmosphere all around.
Faced with Mrs. Clark’s silence, Charles continued, “But we’ve worked through our misunderstandings, have moved beyond them. We’ve come a long way… I realize you do not know me well enough to take my word for it, but I want to do right by your daughter, Mrs. Clark. She means the world to me.”
Without looking at him, the older woman nodded, her voice devoid of warmth when she said, “In any case, I’ll be keeping my eye on you.”
“Fair enough.”
Charles understood where she was coming from, did not blame her one bit.
Mrs. Clark was a difficult woman to navigate around. She was to-the-point and overly opinionated at times. But despite her obstinate nature-and perhaps because of it in a way-she was a good mother. And he could not fault her for that, would not.
In all honesty, Charles was quite relieved, felt like a weight had been lifted. His talk with her had gone smoother than he had expected-much smoother.
That wasn’t so bad…
…
“Well, I think we’re done here.” Mrs. Branch perused her notebook one last time, a huge grin on her face. “Much obliged, ladies.”
The meeting was over. It was finally over and Laura had to refrain from sighing in relief.
Her heart thumping, she braced herself for what she might see, took a calming breath then another before turning.
Oh thank you, Lord…
The sight was not only welcome but beautiful. Simple, it touched a maternal cord, filling her with warmth. Charles was no longer seated with her mother, instead stood a few feet away, hands in his pocket, smiling and laughing with Mary.
Moved by the ease with which he conversed and interacted with her daughter, Laura felt nothing short of blessed. He really was wonderful with children.
Eyes darting toward the bench, her expression faded to one of uncertainty.
Her mother had remained seated, rigid stare fixed onto him.
What am I going to do with her?
As the women around her started to disperse, Laura was pulled to the here and now by a hand to her shoulder.
“You gonna acknowledge the corn or what?” Sally smirked and arched her eyebrows before nodding in Charles’ direction.
The query was not unwelcome for Laura had been dying to tell someone, her best friend most of all. She had withheld a lot, simply had to. But now that she and Charles had started on a clean slate, one devoid of misunderstanding, the guilt and shame were no longer present. While she would have to keep some details to herself, Laura was now free to confide, free to share her joy, heartfelt and absolute. It was liberating, made her feel as giddy as a schoolgirl.
Biting her lip, Laura looked around and tugged on Sally’s arm. “Alright, but not here.”
Her insides awhirl, she led her friend to a sparsely occupied area of the churchyard. When she deemed it was safe, she spun around, her voice hitching in excitement. “Oh Sal, I don’t know where to start.”
A knowing smile on her lips, Sally crossed her arms. “Why don’t you start with the obvious? You and Mr. Lattimer…” she spoke in a drawn out tone, fishing for what she already suspected.
Laura smiled, her cheeks heated and most likely flushed as she admitted, “We’re courting.”
“I knew it!” Sally practically squealed in delight.
“Keep it down,” she hushed amid soft laughter, looking around to make sure no one had heard.
“Uh oh…”
“Uh oh what?” Laura asked as her friend’s expression suddenly turned serious.
“Your mother doesn’t know, does she?”
“I haven’t told her yet.” Casting a sidelong glance toward the bench, she sighed. “But I have a feeling she knows.”
“Yeah, well you and Mr. Wonderful looked like a couple of love struck youths all throughout your little picnic.” Sally said with a touch of amusement in her voice.
“We did?” While she winced inwardly at having been so obvious, Laura smiled anyway-so elated was she.
“It suits you, Laura.” Sally’s words were now free of teasing, instead filled with sincerity. “You deserve to be happy.”
“Thank you.” As her eyes fell on the new man in her life, Laura inhaled deeply, feeling alive, revelling in the fact that this was real. It was not a fantasy, nor was it a dream from which she would wake-alone in the stillness of her bedroom, her heart forlorn and forgotten.
The breeze brushing her cheek, she watched as Charles knelt down, retrieved a flower and began explaining something to Mary. The two got on so well, the sight stirring her in ways she could not describe.
While she had done her best to provide love, stability, three meals a day and the clothes on their backs, Laura was not a father figure, could never be one. Oh Mary never complained, seemed content with their little family unit. But there had been times when her little eyes had expressed wistfulness at seeing her friends with their fathers. It had always been subtle, but daughters never fool their mothers.
Now, Mary’s little shoulders shook in laughter, her smile as wide as Laura had ever seen.
This man was a godsend, someone she could envision marrying.
“You really are smitten, aren’t you?”
Her eyes lingering on the little duo in the distance, Laura sighed and let the seconds trickle by. “I’m more than smitten, Sally.”
~~~
“My favourite insect is the praying mantis. Mama says they’re good luck.”
Warmed by beautiful memories, Charles smiled. “And she would be right.”
“Last week, I found one near the barn,” the girl said proudly.
“You did?”
Before Mary could recount her tale of insect hunting, gentle winds wafted a familiar voice, soft and laced with laughter.
“Did my daughter behave while I was gone?”
Smile widening, Charles straightened and watched as Laura made her way over. “A real terror, I’m telling you.”
“Was not.” Mary’s shoulders shook with that giggled laugh of hers. Then, to her mother, she continued, “We were talking about caterpillars and praying mantis.”
“You were?”
Before Mary could further elaborate, she heard her name being called from across the churchyard. Her face breaking into a big toothy grin, she waved at her friend before looking to her mother once again, a plea in her eyes. “Mama, can I?”
“Go,” was her answer, delivered on a chuckled as she smoothed her daughter’s braids.
“Thank you!” And in less than a second, the girl had bolted.
Side by side, Charles and Laura watched as Mary ran off, their faces bathed in tranquil happiness.
It couldn’t get any better than this.
“How was your meeting?” he finally asked.
“Long,” Laura snorted before nudging her head in the bench’s direction. “I see you got some alone time with my mother.”
“I did.” Charles tried to sound upbeat as he said this because the last thing he wanted was for Laura to feel bad.
“If I would have known, I-”
“It was fine, really,” he started, intent on putting her worries to rest. “We had a nice talk.”
Perplexed, she asked, “Nice?”
“Okay so nice might be pushing it. Let’s just say it was a step in the right direction.” There was a short pause and then, “She knows, Laura.”
“I figured as much. Did she…” she started but trailed off, her eyelids falling shut.
“Hey.” With a gentle tone, he continued, “Look at me.”
And she did, her green eyes meeting his in a way that conveyed the uncertainty that lay before them.
“I’ll just have to win her trust.” Charles spoke softly but with assurance. “And I will.”
Seemingly comforted by his optimism, Laura did not speak but rather listened.
“It’s going to take some time. A long time. But I won’t mess this up. Eventually, your mother will see just how much I…”
While he had expressed the depth of his feeling for her, Charles had never said the words, not in the traditional sense anyway. Wanting to save them for the right moment, he stopped, smiled as he saw the slight blush on Laura’s cheeks.
She had caught on.
A soft chirping resounded from above as a bluebird flew in swift patterns, zigzagging impossibly near then moving on toward the large tree behind the bench where Laura’s mother sat.
Their gaze following the feathered creature, they saw that the older woman now had company.
“Mrs. Brennan,” she observed. “They’ve been friends for as long as I can remember.”
“I see.”
With a breath that signalled a return to their previous thread of conversation, Laura said, “I’m going to talk to her later today. She needs to hear it from me.”
“I think that’s a good idea.”
Turning to meet her gaze, Charles was struck by the gentleness he saw.
“Walk with me?” she asked.
As if he could refuse.
And so, hands linked behind their backs, the two settled into a leisurely stroll, their footfalls in perfect sync with one another. They ignored curious glances and quiet whispers, made their way toward the wooden bridge nearby.
“You look lovely today,” Charles observed, his sideways glance reflexively falling, taking in the gentle sway of her hips, the soft flutter of her skirt.
“Thank you,” she replied, her lips quirked into a smile all her own.
Laura had this manner about her, proper yet far from naïve. She was very much aware of the effect she had on him; it showed in the curve of her lips, in the twinkle in her eyes. While she was not conceited, there was a quiet confidence about her-a trait that made her even more alluring, if that was even possible.
“You look rather handsome yourself,” she stated.
Slowing his steps, Charles watched in admiration as Laura made her way toward the center of the bridge before leaning on the side. As she looked at the winding tributary below, patterns of shimmering light danced on her features, illuminating her profile
When she realized he trailed behind, Laura looked sideways at him, teased, “The bridge will hold the two of us, just so you know.”
Charles laughed and shook himself out of his wonderment, astounded at how easily she could bring him to utter distraction. “Sorry.”
Joining her, he leaned on the side, his elbow lightly brushing against hers.
…
Laura had always loved the water-as a girl would sit on the riverbank and dream. Nowadays, it seemed the river had become synonymous with Charles, the sparkling ripples evoking poignant memories.
“Look at this place,” he said, wonder lacing his voice.
Watching as he marvelled at the landscape, Laura could not contain her mirth. “Still awed by it?”
“Very.” He took an extended breath. “I’ll never tire of this.”
These words touched the very heart of her for Laura knew Charles would never see his home again. While she did not doubt his feelings for her, would be forever grateful for his return to Somerville, she could not help but wonder about the people he had left behind.
The man had essentially left everything he had ever known for her and for Mary. It had been a profound gesture, powerful and incredibly moving. But as thankful as she was, Laura could not help but feel a pang of sadness at knowing this.
Catching glimpse of a leaf as it floated down the current, Laura wondered about its journey, how far it would go. This thought mirrored her musings on this latest chapter in her life, made her blink slowly as she thought of what lay ahead for her and Charles.
She was hopeful. She was… in love.
Her eyes drifting to his, Laura had to will herself to breathe. The emotions in his blue irises were so unguarded and palpable, she could hardly believe them. Had they not been in an open setting, she would have undoubtedly kissed him. Oh how she wanted to, very much.
This yearning led to a spontaneous confession, a breathless whisper that left her lips before she even realized. “I missed you last night.”
Blushing at her own words, Laura lowered her gaze, eyelids falling shut for a moment or two. A gentle touch to her cheek and she met his eyes once more, her heart nearly stopping when he said, “So did I.”
There was something undeniably intimate about this simplest of declarations. He had been thinking about her, perhaps at the same time she had been thinking about him.
Laura could already tell that this courtship would test her self-control, so strong was her attraction to him. They would have to be careful, she knew. And yet, she could not stop herself from saying, “I can’t wait to be with you again. Alone, I mean.”
Time stood still, a gentle longing filling the air between them.
“Me too,” he whispered.
They should have stopped that particular line of thought right then and there. They nearly did, in fact. But as Laura pushed herself from the side, nudging her head in a way that said ‘we should go’, caution was thrown to the wind.
Eyes downcast, Charles put a hand to her arm, asked, “Tomorrow?”
Besieged by shivers, Laura closed her eyes, her breaths already filled with yearning.
“I’m sorry,” he just as soon stated, obviously discomfited by his brazen request.
“Don’t be.” And she meant it.
Laura captured his gaze in a look meant to convey how she felt. She wanted to see him, needed to. Their surroundings all but shut out, she said, “Tomorrow.”
~~~
The homestead was most often quiet in the evenings, even more so on Sundays. Laura usually enjoyed the downtime, would indulge in a good book, a cup of tea by her side.
However, this night was different, far from relaxed as she pondered how to broach the subject of her courtship with Charles. Her mother already knew, had spent most of the afternoon in relative silence, brooding no doubt. But Laura needed to say something nonetheless.
It was the right thing to do.
She would have brought it up earlier, but had been interrupted on every occasion-either Mary sauntering in the room or Walt walking through the front door.
But now, with bedtime fast approaching, Laura sat in the parlour with her mother, the minutes ticking away with scantly a word spoken between them.
Fingers tapping an erratic rhythm on her lap, she glanced at the clock. It was now or never. Determined, she shifted in her chair, looked pointedly at her mother’s profile and stated, “We need to talk.”
Mrs. Clark’s reply was curt, her fingers unrelenting in her needlework. “I was wondering when you’d get around to it.”
At the brick wall reaction, Laura shook her head, eyelids falling shut as she fought to keep from scoffing. Whilst she had expected this, it did not make the dialogue any easier.
“I know you don’t like Charles-”
At this, Mrs. Clark chuckled quietly, a bitterness to the sound.
Laura paid it no mind though, instead kept on, “But I do… very much.” There was a pause and then, “Mama, look at me.”
Lips set in a thin line, Mrs. Clark set her needlework down, then took a moment or two before turning.
The silence was deafening, the air stuffy with this most challenging of topics. There was no easy way to put this and Laura had learned long ago that a direct approach was the best method where her mother was concerned.
Straightforward it will be.
“We’re courting.”
There, she had said it.
Feeling as if a weight had been lifted, Laura exhaled, her fingers entwined on her lap. It was liberating in a way, yet terrifying in another.
“I’d gathered as much.” The older woman steadied herself on the armrests before rising with effort. Then, with weariness in her steps, she made her way to the kitchen, her silence speaking volumes.
Not only did it express her opposition to their courting, but it signalled an end to the discussion.
Sitting there, staring at the floorboards, Laura wondered how long it would take for her mother to make peace with this newest chapter in her life.
While it pained her to know that Charles would not be readily accepted, Laura chose to focus on the good things. Contentment, gaiety, and the light feeling of being head over heels in love now made residence in her heart. It felt thrillingly new while being comfortingly familiar at the same time.
Her features softening, Laura clung to the knowledge that everything would work itself out. It always did. All they needed to do was to take it one day at a time and not force it.
Charles was a wonderful man, and soon her mother would see this. That was her hope anyway-one she would hold onto, something she believed in.
Alone in her thoughts, Laura was brought back to the present by the sound of a dresser drawer being closed. It originated from the bedroom adjacent to the parlour, reminding her that there was one more person she needed to tell on this night.
Mary was the center of Laura’s world, her opinion regarding this courtship the most valued one of all.
The upcoming conversation was nerve-wracking in a way, but not as daunting as the one she’d just had with her mother.
With a level of maturity that sometimes went beyond that of a seven year old, it was easy to have a frank discussion with Mary. She was bright, eager to engage and talk about things, many things.
Laura always made it a point to spend time with her whenever she could. On the nights she did not have to work late, tucking Mary in was something she looked forward to. Quality time was a gift to cling to and cherish. And Laura did, very much.
~~~
“Oops, I’m sorry.” With a gentle hand, Laura passed a brush through Mary’s hair, careful not to yank too hard. “Just a little tangle here. Did I hurt you?”
“No.”
The two sat on the bed, Mary facing away from her mother. The light around them was soft, the flame in the oil lamp warming the tone of the room’s white walls. Completing the calming feel was the chirping of crickets that floated through the window pane. It was a pleasant sound, one they were both fond of.
“Your hair is really soft,” Laura said, smiling that smile only mothers do. “And curly, my goodness.”
Mary turned to look over her shoulder, her face alight with cheerfulness. “Yours is curly too.”
“True, but not this much. My hair’s just big.”
A soft giggle bubbled forth as the girl added, “And really funny looking in the morning.”
Laura could not contain her amusement at the remark. “Oh it is, now is it?”
“Yeah.”
The moment was light, pleasant, their shared laughter filling the air, then gradually ebbing away.
“So did you have a good time today?” Laura asked.
“At the picnic?”
“Yes.”
“I did.” Mary nodded, then laughed softly. “Mr. Lattimer is really funny.”
Warmed by her daughter’s response, Laura stilled her hand and asked, “You really like him, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” While this answer was delivered on a whisper, there was profound openness and honesty to it.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Laura really was. And as the seconds trickled by, she judged this to be her window of opportunity. “Mary?”
The girl turned to face her mother, a curious glimmer in her eyes.
After a cleansing breath, Laura asked, “How would you feel if Mr. Lattimer started spending more time with us?”
“You mean like picnics every Sunday?”
Mary’s answer was so endearing that Laura could not keep a smile from showing. “Something like that.”
“That’d be nice.”
“Good.” Feeling relief and joy, Laura leaned forward and deposited a kiss on her daughter’s forehead. “That’s real good.”
“What’s going on, Mama?”
Faced with the question in Mary’s eyes, Laura searched for the words. “Well, you see, Mr. Lattimer and I…” To say it was a struggle. “We’re courting, sweetie.”
The expression on Mary’s face was a wondrous one. She was practically beaming. “You are?”
“Uh huh.”
“Does that mean you’re getting married?” Her enthusiasm not only showed through her tone of voice, but by the slight bounce as she shifted on the bed.
Laughing, Laura shook her head. “It’s a bit early to say. We’re going to have to take it one step at a time.”
“Oh I see.” Even as she settled somewhat, Mary was clearly overjoyed by the news.
“So you’re okay with this?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Such a Mary thing to say.
A thin veil of tears in her eyes, Laura reached out and grazed her daughter’s cheek with the side of her hand. “You’re such a sweet, lovely girl.”
Mary’s reply came by way of a hug. It felt wonderful. Laura revelled in it, held on tightly as she said, “I love you.”
“I love you too, Mama.”
In that very moment, she counted her blessings. Things were finally coming full circle, her courtship with Charles not only out in the open, but accepted readily by the most important person in her life.
While there would be adjustments ahead, Laura vowed to make the transition go as smoothly as possible. Mary would be included in this journey and not be made to feel left out. That was a promise and she intended to keep it.
So that's it for chapter 10.
continue to chapter 11
Thank you so much for reading. It means a lot.