carpe diem ⊶ joseph descamps

05 | the marrow of life

—
[five]
the consequences of our actions
—

Sadie's hair blew fiercely in the cold breeze of the evening, the only thing stopping her hair from going wild in her face, was the random beret she smacked on top of her head before running out of the house for the Descamps' residence. She had initially been excited for the chance to help out. But all of the jittery feelings she had while searching through the Pages Jaunes, baking last minute macarons to throw in, and packing up all of the food in a big basket, dissolved the moment she arrived. Unlike what she had thought, the lights to their house were shining brightly, meaning the Descamps' were no longer at the hospital.

So here she stood, freezing on the front steps of the Descamps' residence with only a green beret, pink cardigan, and her frumpy white dress to keep her warm. She was shaking a bit and wanted to blame it on the cold, rather than the nerves that snuck up on her at the thought of having to see Descamps again.

"What was I thinking?!" she whispered to herself, using her free hand to smack her forehead. "I should've just rang their number and called it a day!"

Sighing to herself, Sadie shook her head before looking up at the house again. Like she noticed, the lights were on in the home, but there was no smell of food being cooked or sound of a radio playing. Part of her hoped the Descamps were actually still at the hospital and were too scattered to remember to turn off their lights, but she didn't want to give herself false hope.

"Come on, Sadie," she mumbled to herself, "Carpe diem!...damn Horace."

Gathering up the courage, Sadie transferred the basket to her right hand and quickly used her left to leave five swift knocks on the door before she could back out. She pulled her hand back instantly, trying not to jump and squeal at herself, before taking another deep breath.

"Okay, okay, okay; I did it! You're so brave, Sadie! Now just wait," she whispered, mentally patting herself on the back.

The brunette rocked herself back and forth on the balls of her heels as she held the basket in both hands once again, mentally counting to ten so she could say she tried before leaving the basket on the doorstep and going about on her merry way!

But that plan didn't come to fruition because the next thing she knew, the door creaked open.

Sadie could not stop her eyes from widening as she was met with the sight of a woman from behind the door. Her hair, cut into a trendy bob, had fringe that looked like she had run her fingers through it too many times, while her makeup that must've looked pristine earlier in the day, had sad little smudges around the eyes and lips. Though the woman looked stricken in years at the moment, Sadie was sure she hadn't looked like this when she sent her son off for school.

"Can I help you?" the mother asked, her voice short and hoarse.

Sadie snapped out of her shock and cleared her throat. "Oh, yes! Well, no, actually—I mean, I'm here to help you!"

Widening her eyes at her awkward fumble, she was forced to see the way the woman's eyebrows furrowed and her eyes squinted, effectively weirded out by the complete stranger in front of her.

Sadie cringed a bit, before trying again, "Sorry, that sounded mad."

"Yes."

"I just—I go to school with your son, he's in my form," Sadie explained.

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear, but Joseph doesn't want to see anybody tonight. He's up in his room trying to get some rest."

Sadie shook a hand frantically. "Oh, no no! That's completely fine, but I just wanted to drop by and, um, say that I'm sorry," she confided. The woman's eyebrows immediately lost their tension, giving Sadie the confidence to continue. "The teacher left me in charge for a moment, and I couldn't stop what happened to Desc—Joseph. I'm...I'm so sorry, Mrs. Descamps."

The woman shook her head, slowly at first before frantically, reaching out and grabbing the girl's hand.

"No, dear, you can't blame yourself for that," she said. "What happened mustn't have had anything to do with you, I'm sure of it."

Sadie looked at the woman, feeling tears prick her eyes out as the immense guilt that secretly plagued her throughout the day started to lighten. However, being faced with this woman, Descamps' mother, made Sadie push her thoughts aside as she realized how she felt didn't truly matter. Compared to the woman who had obviously grieved a lot today, her unresolved guilt was not relevant. Shaking herself a little and feeling silly, she gave the woman's hand a squeeze herself before lifting up the basket in her other hand with a small smile.

"I told my family about what happened, and we figured all of you must have been at the hospital all day. We hope this dinner can help ease your minds, at least a little bit."

Sadie held out the basket, breathing out and showing her visible breath in the cold. The wind danced in front of them, but Sadie noticed the woman didn't take her eyes off of her for a second. Instead, she watched as the bobbed brunette's eyes started to water, before they crinkled and overflowed.

"Oh, Mrs. Descamps," Sadie whispered, lowering the basket. She went to apologize once again for making things harder on the woman, but was stopped when she felt herself being pulled into a hug.

"Thank you," the mother whispered, clutching onto Sadie as she shook.

Sadie's eyes widened remarkably, trying her best not to tense at the contact.

"I have been a horrible mother today," the woman sobbed, "I forgot to cook Joseph breakfast before leaving for work, then I couldn't pull myself together at the hospital, and then I couldn't make food for my boys because I was so distraught for my poor angel! What kind of mother am I, who can't cook or comfort my own boy?"

Sadie felt her heart break at the woman's confession, wrapping her arms around the woman who obviously just needed a shoulder to cry on.

"I don't think you're a horrible mother," Sadie spoke gently, "I think you were just trying your best with the horrible day you've been given. It's not your fault, either, Mrs. Descamps."

The woman let out another great sob, before eventually relaxing her hold and taking a deep breath. It took a few seconds, but she was able to pull herself away from the comforting hug and gave Sadie a grateful smile.

"Thank you for dropping by, dear," she whispered, almost reverently.

Sadie smiled, feeling thankful for listening to her parents and her heart. She handed over the basket, and denied the woman's invitation to come inside to step out of the cold for a moment.

"Thank you, Mrs. Descamps, but I should head back home since it's starting to get late," she said, stepping away from the doorstep.

The woman held both arms around the basket, treasuring the offering as she waved Sadie off. "Thank you so much, I'll make sure to have Joseph bring your basket back!"

Sadie laughed a little as she shook her head with the declaration that they could keep it, before saying, "I hope he feels better soon! I'm sure his absence at school will be felt, Madame," before taking the way back home, her heart a lot lighter.

She thought back to her father's words earlier at dinner:

"Don't ever feel bad for caring, even when others don't—especially when others don't."

Sadie wasn't sure if what happened wouldn't leave her alone because of guilt, pity, or something else. But she knew at that moment that caring, even alone, was not for naught. Whether it was for her, Descamps, or his mother: it was for a reason.