Remember Me- an Alias Grace Fanfiction

Part 2

Her back cracked as she stood from the couch that morning. She had one thing to do today and nothing would stop her. When Jamie got up he acted as though nothing was different.
"Good morning, dear," he said but she could see the drained hue in his skin, "I am off today." No further explanation, as was usual.
"I was actually wondering about that," she says, "could I go into town with you if you are already going out?"
He pauses and she is sure he will refuse but even if he did she would wear him down until he allowed her.
"What for? If it is some task, I can do it myself."
"No, I would like to do it. I have to send a letter out."
His eyebrows raise, "is it a secret? You cannot tell me who you are in correspondence with?"
"No, I only want to write to my old friend from one of the homes I stayed in." It is an easy lie, maybe not convincing enough.
"Alright then, I suppose you may come."
And so they both prepared themselves and got into the carriage. It was a silent drive and neither spoke outside of necessity. It was not comfortable but it was not unusual. It was so normal that neither found any purpose in doing differently.
As they entered the town, the ground became rougher and the noise more condensed. Grace had only ever lived in a city when she was with her father which made the idea something she tried to avoid. But after so long a time she felt almost drawn in by the busy streets and people so close and always around.
"Alright, here is where I leave you, Grace," Jamie said in an overly happy voice, "you can get a ride back to the house or something because I will not be back before supper."
She nodded, "alright, I will see you later then."
And as they parted, Jamie hesitated to speak. He might have wanted to apologize before she left but what good would it do? He might have suspected this moment could change how the rest of their lives panned out, as if one word could determine that. And he would probably be right. He has never said a singular sorry to Grace, it was always "sorry, but..." there was always a reason out of his control. But he did not say sorry and they seperated upon those unspoken partings.
Grace's heart thumped in her chest making it difficult to breathe. People surrounded her and although it charmed her to see such a population, it was intimidating and frightening all the same. After bumping into and apologizing profusely to two people, Grace finally reached the post office.
The bell rang cheerfully as she entered and upon closing the door, a silence engulfed the atmosphere once more. She walked up to the counter, holding the letter in her hand, the address written. She only needed to get a stamp and then she would be set.
But what if this was not the correct thing to do? Would she regret sending it? She had thought about how it might be received by him, but herself? Not at all.
The attendant with graying hair approaches her, "hello, dear" she says in a kind voice, "and what is your name, miss?"
"Grace. Grace Marks—Walsh, I mean." It sounded strange on her tongue. She had been married for some time already but she had rarely been put in a position where she had to say it outloud. After so long a time in prison and authority, she could only know herself as Grace Marks.
The older lady gives her a query look, "what was that you said?"
She must have recognized her name. Grace. The murderer. The murderess. She felt like running out of the building but something stopped her. The expression the woman wore was not of contempt but mere curiosity.
"My maiden name is Marks."
Something in the woman's face lights up, "Marks, you say! I believe I have something for you!"
She scurries away and a moment later she comes back with a white envelope.
"This is yours, I believe," she says it like a question, "it has a postal address that reads for this town but nothing else, and nobody at the station could recognize the name on it." She laughs, "Plenty of Graces and plenty of Marks, but none together you know!"
She gives the woman an appreciative smile but when she glances down at the writing her smile drops.
"Is everything alright, my dear?" The woman places a hand on Grace's.
Grace shakes her head, "yes— yes of course, I am sorry."
The older lady tilts her head, "alright then... now what is it you needed help with today?"
"There is no need for it now, but thank you for the help you did provide," her heart is pounding as she rushes out the door and the lady calls goodbye after her.
As she walks swiftly down the sidewalk, the sky seems to close in on her, people look like shadows dancing along walls and the ground beneath her is shaking.
After a few minutes she realizes she is not walking to any place in particular and regroups herself. She finds a carriage driver and gives him her home address.
The entire ride back, she cannot stop glancing down at the envelope, reading the inscription. But she cannot open it.
Jordan? Mrs. Eliza Jordan? As in not a sister, but a wife? Her mind begins to race and when she arrives at home she pays the driver and rushes inside to collapse onto the couch she woke up in that morning. Her entire body feels numb and it shakes so weakly as she sobs into her pillow. She did not expect for news such as this to reach her on a normal regular day like this, how could she prepare herself for it? That is when she remembers her own letter she grips in her other hand, wrinkling it and dampening it with the sweat from her palm. She flattens it out and it only makes her sobs grow stronger. Every minute, every hour she had spent waiting for him, even years later. She hadn't even realized she was still actively waiting until this very moment. Had it really been so long?
She cannot bring herself to read the letter but she knows she must. Why on earth would she write to her? The only reason may be if he had died, but it is not as if Grace was on a list of dear people to him. What if he was dead? The thought itself is unbearable but Grace cannot understand why. Had she not just scribed a length of writing out explaining to him everything of how she felt to him. The heartbreak and agony he had caused? Had she not written of how much she despises him, how horrible a person she believed him to be. She pushes her thoughts aside and takes the letter out to read.

Dear Miss Marks,

I know that it may be a surprise to receive this but I am coming to you as a last resort. My son is in dire health. Some time ago he suffered a head and spinal injury during his time in the military and that has caused him to lose much of his prior memory. His doctor has told me that there is little to no hope for his full recovery. I do not think that is true. You see, I know your case very well and that is not only because of the media coverage it has received but because my son was very invested in it as well. Sometimes I think he might remember small bits of time from your sessions. My belief is that if he sees you it may have a stronger effect and remind him of that time and place and he might return back to health. I must warn you now that he may not come across the same way he used to but he is still himself. He does not speak quite as much but his doctor has suggested that it is selective due to his depressive condition. Another thing to be aware of is that he is immobile. He cannot walk without assistance.
I have come to his doctor with this proposition and although he is skeptical, he believes it could work. You will be paid for your time if you choose to stay here, which I urge you to do. If you do choose to accept, come as soon as you are able.

Please consider my offer,
Mrs. E Jordan

When she finishes the letter, several different things come over her. He is not married, he is badly hurt, she wants my help. It is difficult to process on their own but all together it is almost impossible. Inside the envelope is a list of train departures. She looks for the date it was sent. A month ago. That is not too terrible but if she wishes to respond it had better be quick.
How long would it be for? She assumed it must be until he recovers or he— but she could not think of that. Whether she wanted it to or not, this news softened her. It made her almost regret writing the entire letter. Almost but not entirely. Just because he is sick, he did not turn into an entirely different person and become absolved of all he'd done. She hadn't sent it but maybe it would be good to bring it along with her if he remembered her. Was she going? Her first thought was yes, but why? It felt like her duty, like she had to do it. But she didn't, she cannot forget that she had the choice. But her choice was so strongly telling her yes. What about Jamie? Would he not allow it? Maybe it would be a good thing to stay seperate for some time. Maybe in some way it might bring them closer again like when they were children. She couldn't know for certain but after last night it seemed sure that he would not be changing his behavior for some time at least.