Hope Forever

A Sister and a Cousin's Intrusion

Angela did not live far by way of coach or carriage. It was not shocking that she should appear and force her company on her sister. Enmae had yet to turn her away. Perhaps this was due to the absolute lack of familiar faces in her life.

Angela and Celestia were seated in the foyer to Enmae's home. Angela's Blue skirts and hair matching her child. A faint pattern of dragons could be seen, swirling around the fabrics. Celestia was babbling on unintelligible words. It was amazing Angela could decipher them from the girl.

Angela looked around the place. The black seats they were on were peeling and leaving specks of old leather on Celestia's dress as the child played rambunctiously. The wooden floors were barren of any rug and only 3 paintings could be seen on the barren walls. No wall paper or other furnishing adorned the room. Angela held her tea in her lap instead on the table that should have been there. Despite the poor circumstances, Angela made no mention of her discomfort.

"Enmae, I must have your opinion on this matter."

"Oh yes, I think I had written that a powder blue suited her best for spring. Many little girls wear orange and I believe blue to be a softer alternative for Celestia. She is so fair."

Angela rolled her eyes. "As your letter said. I mean about a different matter. I am tired of Clyde's habits in gaming halls. He squanders too much for my liking. But what am I to do?"

Enmae turned her gaze back to Angela. This was no surprise. It was a known fact that Angela's husband barely stayed away from the gaming halls to straighten his books. At this point they were surely more crooked than ever. Angela had all she needed. She was a beautiful young woman with twice the charm and elegance that Enmae possessed. She was also petite to the point she was half the width of Enmae and a foot shorter as well. Only Angela could tell her husband, Clyde, of her displeasure. And only Clyde could end his habits.

While Enmae had always longed for a partner, even when her sister's relationship made her pause.  She wished to be deeply loved for who she was. Enmae barely felt that she knew who that was to begin with.

Angela prattled on about her marital problems as Enmae listened. She knew her sister relied on her trust as a confidante, while Enmae struggled to return secrets of her own. There was a time when few secrets were kept from her sister. Showing up to a dinner party where everyone knew the darkest deed she had ever committed, had shattered much of the reliance she had for Angela. 

Enmae silently wished that she could go back to before; when she had very few secrets to keep and very few people to distrust. She also found herself missing a certain man by the name of George Hale. The center of all her pain, and the center of her first love. 

Oh, how their families used to frolic about the fields and play when she was only nine years old. How close they were in the summers, under the heat of the sun. How a nearby lake would offer them refreshment. As a girl, Mr. Hale would carry Enmae in his arms and throw her to the body of water. He used to tease her by pulling at her locks of hair and the strings of her dress. One time her dress even slipped from her shoulder, almost dangerously exposing her. When night fell, they would play their stringed instruments and sing by a glow of the fire. Their mama's not far away. Mr. Hale would sneak her out of her bedroom on certain summer nights and walk in the dark with one the moon to guide their steps. It was all she had known. He would hold her hand in his, as early as the age of eleven or twelve. Especially during plays and opera's. But he would always release her hand the moment an onlooker happen to spy it.

Were those childhood days love? Was what Angela had with a husband who showed affection openly but begrudged her privately, love? Was it simply caring for another person? Or does the harm resulting from such affections negate all intimacy and bear the mark of selfishness?

Perhaps the times she recalled were truly painful only because the idea of who she thought Mr. Hale was in an instant shatter by the reality of true character. 

"Angela," Enmae interrupted her story about a disagreement of family portraits, "Do you consider yourself in love?"

"Sometimes. I am not sure other times. I know I have love for my child and my husband."

"Is it possible to continue to love someone, not for who they are not, but for the moments shared between you and them?"

"No. I don't think so. I think that would be a trick of the mind. Or maybe wishful thinking."

Enmae quieted questions swirling in her mind reflecting the past carefully. She didn't believe it wishful thinking. She remembered how she felt on a dark night without the moon. She was in a scandalous state of dress, and George Hale's hand gently tucked a wildflower from the grass beneath them behind her ear. When he had called her beautiful, she was in love. And perhaps she was still in love with such moments. But she did not think it wishful thinking. She did not wish to see him again. She wished he too, would never see her.

"I do have to ask you, Enmae, before I go, who was that man?"

"Man?" Enmae tried to recall who she might be referring to. No man had been by the manor. "Oh, the stablehand? He walks me home sometimes from Sir Lowe's Manor."

Enmae dare not breathe a word of how he had stolen a kiss from her lips just that morning.

"I see." She said. "Well, I best be off and make sure the home is in proper order for Clyde."

"Of course, Please, do not hesitate to come by again with Celestia as well." Enmae meant it. She did love her sister and dear niece. Even as she was searching her heart to forgive Angela.

As Angela sashayed her blue skirts to the door, herding Celestia the same direction, she called over her shoulder.

"Oh, and Serrilda will be visiting shortly. Mama said you best not be left alone, so she suggested that she look for you here."

Enmae inwardly groaned. Serrilda was a cousin who was of the same age as Enmae. While Enmae had nothing negative to say in regards to her, she just didn't get along in their youth. Enmae had always preferred the company of her siblings and of course George Hale. Serrilda had seemed a bit moody and hard to talk to. They had many aligned interests, however, Serrilda had always persued them with vigor, whereas Enmae explored her talents as she was inspired. She was put off by how Serrilda would assert herself and relentlessly invest in what Enmae saw as a hobby, for enjoyment. It had been years since she had seen Serrilda.

Thinking upon it, George Hale had always detested Serrilda and her comments on his lack of propriety. Had this influenced her perception of Serrilda?

Angela had escaped questions and left Enmae with much to think about.