Sunflowers (Jerry Baynard x Reader/OC)

11 - Locket

Vivian's POV.

"Is she doing okay?" I asked looking down at my little fragile sister in bed, looking as pale and as weak as ever. My heart clenched.

My mother didn't answer my question, instead she laid a blanket on top of my sleeping sister and wiped a stray tear that was secretly making its way down my mother's cheek. "I've sold almost everything. It's still not enough money for a treatment." She whispered. Her breath making the candle flame by her side flow from side to side.

The few coins I'd collected over the months from working at the Cuthberts sat in a glass jar under my bed. It was not even a enough for a doctor's appointment, let alone the treatment. We were hopeless.

I took a deep breath. "We can sell the locket." I always kept the same locket around my neck. It had a yellow sunflower on it. Ironic, I know. Somehow, everything I owned resembled the same flower. My father knew I had an obsession with the flower, so he bought me the locket when I was 5 years old. 12 years later and I still had it. I refrained from taking it off. Especially after he passed. But I always took it off before work, too scared to lose it.

"No. It's the last thing you have left of him." She shook her head, another tear streaming down her wet cheek. "Keep it, darling."

***

Jerry sensed my mood as soon as I stepped into the farm house the next day. With every step I took, his eyes travelled to me, silently questioning my mood. But he was never one to stay quiet for too long. "What's wrong?"

I looked up, pausing my sweeping. He looked at me, I looked at him. For a good second we did no more than stare at each other. "Hmm?"

"I said what's wrong?" He questioned again. He looked genuinely worried. I thought I'd never see that expression on him again. Not since he stopped those freaks from attacking me that one time. He was sat atop a haystack. Being unproductive as usual. Simply shining and sharpening a small knife with a piece of leather.

I dropped the broom from my hands, leaning against the wall opposite from Jerry. I removed my hair from its tie, letting it fall down as I took a deep breath from exhaustion. Jerry's eyes lingered before they started to move down the length of my dark hair. He, as well, took a deep breath before looking away.

"Just some problems at home." I stated, trying to make it seem as little of a problem as to not get pity from him.

He looked back at me. "Oh, yeah?" He licked his lips, eyes gazing over me, brows furrowed. "Want to talk about it?"

I mentally debated it for a good minute. But I figured it was no good for me to bottle it up inside. "Poppy. She's my youngest sister... "

"Yeah, you told me about her." He remembered. "You said she's unwell."

I nodded. "Yes. We don't have the funds for a doctor or for her treatment and... she's getting worse by the day. She can't walk, she can't talk, she's too weak, she's pale, she's slim, she barely eats... we're running out of options." I sighed. A moment passing before I took my father's locket out of my pants pocket. "My mother told me not to sell it. It's the last thing my father gave me. But I don't think it's up for debate. My baby sister is dying." I gazed away. I had too much pride to let him see me cry, so I closed my eyes, swallowing away the tears.

I hadn't noticed him approach me until I felt his hand around my arm. He slowly lifted my arm, taking the locket and studying it in his hand. "It's another sunflower." He commented, looking up from the necklace and into my eyes, a small, saddened smile forming on his face. Somehow, I don't know how, but his smile made me form one of my own. I nodded.

"Tournesol." I mumbled. I don't know how I remembered the French word. I'd probably read it from a children's story book when I was younger. It suddenly came back to me now. Jerry's reaction to the word made me curious. He stilled. His smile faltered slightly and his brows furrowed. I took a step back, thinking maybe I'd mispronounced the word, or worse, accidentally said something offensive or some kind of slur. But my worries vanished when his smile returned, and even brighter than before, a little sparkle making its way into his brown eyes. A bright glisten.

"Oui. C'est un Tournesol." He stated with that smile of his. "Do you like this necklace, Ma Belle?" He asked. I looked at the locket wrapped around his fingers, nodding my head. "Then keep it." He said.

I quickly shook my head. "No. My sister's life is worth more than a necklace." I said before taking it from his hand and placing it back in my pocket. I turned my gaze back to him. "I'll see you tomorrow." I said. Our work day was coming to an end and I had a locket to sell, despite my mother's words. So I had to get to the next town before sundown.

"I'll go with you." I heard him mumble. I froze. I didn't know what to say. He picked up on my silence and spoke instead. "I'll go with you to sell the locket."

"Okay..." I said, a little dumbfounded to be honest.

"We'll take Belle. I'm sure Marilla and Matthew won't mind." He was willing to travel three hours to town and then back just for me. It seemed he was willing to do more for me than I thought. I guess I underestimated our... friendship. And truly, I didn't know how to feel about it. But the blush that covered my face spoke words that I didn't want to say out loud.