Remember Me- an Alias Grace Fanfiction

Part 16

Grace left the house and went out to the path along the pond. She was not sure what to make of the encounter with Simon but she knew that something felt different than the first time she met him in this state. Maybe she was finally realizing that he was not the same man. Maybe she had been holding on to a meaningless hope for the past to come to life in him, but the past was never truly what she was hoping for, but an alternate future she'd lost. And something dulled in her. The flicker that she had been running from was almost vanished and she was now chasing it with her whole heart. But was it really worth such agony? Every second of life and breath of air was like torture and she couldn't place what reason she might have to hold onto anything that made her feel this way. Yes, hope had destroyed her and had continuously done so every day of her life, but she never failed to be tricked by its allure. But now it was so plainly clear that hope was not a solution anymore. It had finally shown itself as the agonizing thing it was and she could not be fooled again.
Simon was gone. He would never return. This job she was given is only a position and nothing more and she will do it correctly and to her very best ability. But she will not become attached. If she fails, she will no longer see it as a personal loss but an opportunity to work harder the next time, if they allow her another chance. And if they do not... she will go home to her husband and live the rest of her life without any connection to this place or... him.
She found herself in front of the gate to the garden. She opened it to see Leonard at work.
"Hello, deary!" He dropped his tools to the ground and strode over to her.
Some of the weight in Grace's chest began to lift and a smile grew across her face, "hello, Leonard."
The wrinkles on the sides of his eyes were so kind and he had an effect on Grace, like nothing could go wrong if he was near, and anything that had soured her thoughts would float away for a time when she spoke with him or caught a glimpse of his generous smile. When it came to older men, Grace would usually be more cautious but some unexplainable sense made it nearly impossible to hold anything against Leonard. She couldn't see the glaze over his eyes that tainted so many other men, couldn't recognize the faces of the men who harmed her in his expression, nor could she find herself shriveling up as he approached her. She would catch herself some days, with her eyes prickling and her nose stinging, and a thought would come to her that never came before. Dad. But she would never admit it to herself, would toss it aside out of shame. What shame? Shame for becoming so attached or so familiar to someone who had no connection to her? Or maybe it was because love had always been a burden, not to her, but to the ones she gave it to.
"What're ye' up to now, Grace?" He asks.
"Nothing at all, I've just finished my session with Simon." She clasps her hands in front of her.
"Well then, would ye' like to help me?"
Grace nods and they begin their work.
For the remainder of the day, Grace helps Leonard trim the lawn and clear some residue from the pond surface. He did the work in the water while she helped him haul their collection into the compost pile near the garden. By the end of it, both were tired out but Grace was out of breath.
"That was a lot of work today, Grace, ye' should get some rest," Leonard says and pats her shoulder roughly.
"I'm glad to h-help you, Leo-nard, thank you for putting m-me to work," she says between deep breaths.
"No, don't thank me, dear!" He grins as they walk toward the house, "all that work woulda taken me an extra day or two withou' yer help."
She just smiles. Words would only steal the little breath she could take.
He waves goodbye and trotts off to the stables to retrieve his horse.
It was the only horse that ever stayed in those stables. Simon didn't have a horse for himself since he never left the estate himself, while his mother would bring her own carriage and horse when she visited. The doctor, she supposed, would schedule himself a carriage for when he would leave on the rare occasions. Still, she thought it odd. It never came to her mind that Simon truly never left this house, not even to go into town.
She'd visited the pen that was attached, at times, to see the pigs and chickens that Leonard tended to, but only shortly since it wasn't a task that would take an entire day, like most of his work. It was still a comfort to see more living creatures about the place. And now that Susan had arrived, her presence almost breathed life into the house tenfold. Not just because she was a living and breathing human being but also because her entire disposition was that of light and childlike optimism.
The thought of seeing Susan made Grace quicken her steps to the house.
When she entered, she could smell a roast from the kitchen and she walked up to the entrance to see Susan at the counter examining the chicken she had just cooked.
"Hello, Susan," Grace says brightly, making Susan jump lightly and turn to see her. But her expression was not the jovial kind Grace saw that morning.
"Grace," she breathed a sigh.
"Is everything alright?" Grace asked as she approached the counter, only realizing in that moment how awful she must look and smell after all the dirty work she had done outside.
"Yes..." Susan averted her gaze, down at her hands.
"Are you sure? If there's anything— if you miss your mother, you are more than welcome to return, we can manage if that is the issue, I promise you—"
Susan's eyes go wide as she looks up and waves her hands in defense, "no no not at all, I would really love to stay here as long as I can, it's just..." she trails off again, looking away, "Dr. Jordan, he... he seemed unhappy with my presence here." She looks up at Grace.
"Are you sure?" Why on earth would he be unhappy with her? "Maybe he was busy, he doesn't talk very much at first and he might have seemed cold."
Susan shakes her head, her brown curls trickling out the front of her bonnet, "no, it was nothing like that. He was very clear; he was confused at why I was here at all and said something about thinking he'd turned away all his workers already. He asked me how I had managed to come back and I told him that he had asked me to come work for him— I even showed him the letter he'd sent which seemed to convince him but he still looked confused, and he didn't say a word after that and walked away."
Grace didn't know what to tell her. He had forgotten asking for her assistance but she couldn't say that to her because it would be intrusive. He was only a patient, only a man she had to help come back to health.
"That is odd, but do not worry yourself, he clearly asked for your help and I need you here too."
The girl smiled sweetly, the furrow in her brow softened and the glint in her eyes resurfaced. She looked the same as the girl who showed up on their doorstep just yesterday.
But then her face soured, "you know, miss... you might like to clean up a bit before supper."
Grace's cheeks heated, "oh, yes of course, thank you for reminding me!"
And she quickly turned to leave, catching her reflection in the hall mirror. Her hair was tousled and wild with a small smear of dirt on her throat and forehead and grime between her fingernails.
She would have to go out to the well and collect water for her bath. So she ran out to the well, collected and filled a large pale and began indoors once more, her arms straining against the weight of it.
As she tottered through the hall to the staircase, glowering at the thought of walking up each step in this state, she saw Simon emerge from the hall at the other side.
She wanted to hide or run away but she couldn't do that with the heavy pale and she also couldn't well leave it there just a few feet from the steps.
Her cheeks burned.
Simon rounded the side, not immediately seeing her then his eyes widened at the sight.
"G-Grace, you're— are you alright?"
She went still, imagining what she might look like to him then, "oh— no— I mean, yes, I am perfectly well."
He stares for a moment, his eyes tracing from the ground to her face, his own face turning slightly pink.
She begins to struggle toward the stairs again.
"Can I help you, please?"
Grace cannot speak, mortified, and she shakes her head, glancing at his legs and the crutches below his shoulders.
He lets out a soft snicker, his eyelashes fluttering, "oh, yes of course."
She clears her throat, waiting for him to walk away because she cannot seem to take another step until he is out of her sight.
Simon's throat bobs, his eyes searching hers and his mouth gaping still.
And all of the sudden, her legs move again and she walks up the staircase with a swiftness she thought she couldn't muster with the weight of the bucket.