The Family Origin

Chapter Fifty-Three: JOSEPH POV

Months passed, and I learned to eat the meat again. I started with small bites so that I would not be sick. Slowly, I managed to push away the idea it was human meat. My hunger disappeared, and so did the tension between myself and Miles.

I was unsure how long the meat would last. No one else had come onto our property, and the ice box was getting empty. At first, I suggested rationing what we had left. Miles agreed until Maisie became ill. He was panicked when she could not get out of bed without being sick, but quickly recognized her nausea as being similar to when she was first pregnant with Briar. Now that Maisie was having another baby, Miles refused to ration our meals. He wanted to keep her healthy.

When Maisie was pregnant with Briar, she was visibly anxious and asked Clara hundreds of questions. After Clara died, I needed to talk to Edith so I could keep her calm. Luckily, Maisie was much more confident this time because I could no longer go to Edith. We needed to stay away from the Thatcher home.

After dinner, I loved watching her. Miles would go outside to sit by a fire, like had always done. I would sit at the dining room table and watch Maisie as she washed the dishes. She was smiling as she softly hummed to herself. Her pregnancy was now noticeable, and it filled me with an odd sense of hope. She would have more children, and this going keep to keep the Wilcox family alive.

My cravings for a glass of whiskey had almost completely disappeared and my mind felt clearer.

There was a knock on the front door, and the sound echoed through our home. Maisie's humming stopped and she looked at me with wide eyes. I sucked in a deep breath as I stood. No one had come to our home since Oliver. For months, we lived in pleasant isolation.

Maisie looked out the window over the sink, and craned her neck to see better. The knocking came from the other side of the house. Was she looking for Miles? We both knew that he would kill whoever had come here.

There was another knock, but this one sounded more like someone was slamming their fist into the door. Maisie back toward me, and was chewing on her bottom lip.

"Stay here," I said.

I pulled my key off from around my neck as I walked toward the door. Another knock happened as I unlocked the door. Before opening it, I placed the chain back around my neck and hid the key under my shirt.

At first, the man standing on the porch looked like a stranger. It had been two years since I had seen my younger brother. This man seemed thinner and dark circles were under his eyes, but it was Bram. A wide smile grew across his face as he looked at me. He tipped his head back and covered his mouth with his hands. He made an odd sound. Was that supposed to be a laugh?

"You're here," he said in disbelief. "Of course you are here! You are going to die in this house."

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

There was a cold edge to my voice. Bram straightened and his brows furrowed as he looked at me.

"You are not happy to see me, Joe?" he asked.

"What are you doing here?" I asked again.

I glared, and Bram returned to the person I remembered. The smile disappeared and he looked down at his feet. He rubbed his hand along the stubble on his jaw.

"I thought you were too good for this farm," I said.

Bram let out a deep breath, but he was still unable to look up at me.

"Mary left," he said. "She did not like the city, and she went to live with her mother. Both of my girls got married, so now I have nothing."

I told Bram that going to New York was a mistake. It was all just a ridiculous fantasy in his head. He never listened to me. He abandoned the family, and it ruined his life.