The Widow's Peak

Part Six

Rebecca's eyes fluttered open. The pillow was cooler and softer than it had been the night before, and faint sunlight danced through the window. Her heart raced; was yesterday all a bad dream, or was this the reality she found herself in? A baby...with the Reverend...and now to sleep over at Dr. Giddings'! Tomorrow was hard to find, she thought, Pulsing away in another shadow. What am I trying to shield with all those scriptures?! I'm worse than Aunt Abigail!

She sat up and swung her legs over the bed, slowly rising to her feet. Her stomach still hurt, and a low, dull ache spread through her lower back. She padded downstairs, massaging her stomach, feeling for the baby. Ridiculous! It's much too early for that! Her hand dropped to her side.

"Good morning, Miss Brasher!"

Dr. Giddings was already seated at the table, wearing his usual black doctors' clothes. Rebecca cringed. Doctors and reverends both wore black. Damn that Tilbury and his smooth-talking way!

"G-Good morning, Doctor. You are too kind, letting me stay the night and now serving breakfast!"

A smile quirked his lips.

"Don't fret. It's the least I could do."

He poured her a steaming cup of tea. She thanked him and took a small sip. Her heart pounded— till she could no longer focus on the simple act.

"Bearing this child will ruin me— and the Reverend."

"It's a bit early to start with that, isn't it? Perhaps once you eat something, you can collect your thoughts."

He slid a plate to her. Fluffy, golden-brown johnnycakes— fresh from the griddle— made her stomach growl. Warm baked beans curled beside them. She found it an odd combination, but something about the meal's heartiness drew her in. She grabbed a fork and took a big bite of both.

"Interesting combination!" chuckled Dr. Giddings.

Rebecca nodded and chewed quickly.

"I don't know why, but something about hot beans on a soft cake sounded delicious." She swallowed. "Does that have to do with my condition, too?"

"Ah! You must have heard too many old wives' tales from your aunt!" He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I meant to ask...did you sleep well? Any strange dreams?"

He whipped out a quill and small notebook, preparing to record every word. Rebecca took a deep breath.

"No. I mean, I didn't sleep well, and I can't recall any dreams."

The doctor scribbled into his notebook, more interesting in his writing than breakfast.

"U-Umm...Doctor," she stammered, "I've held in this secret for so long. Too long, really. Do you mind if I tell you...how this all came about?"

Dr. Giddings opened his mouth to ask a question, but before he could speak, she patted her belly. He nodded.

"Well, it started with Bible study after church. You know, I really am interested in the Word of God, and sometimes I need assistance in understanding it.

"The Reverend was always kind to me. He helped me understand the more obscure books of the Bible, that Amos and Nahum are just as valuable as Psalms or Proverbs. He asked each other a lot about philosophy, and, not to brag, but he said I was wise beyond my years.

"Anyway, our sessions began innocently; afterward, we would talk about our hobbies and maybe food, but then it became...odd. He asked me if I had a suitor. I said no. He said, 'That's fortunate, as you are a pretty young lady.' I blushed. What am I supposed to say?"

Dr. Giddings didn't catch that her question was rhetorical. His eyes blazed intensely behind his spectacles as he patted her hand.

"I...I don't know. That sounds like an uncomfortable situation."

Rebecca pulled her hand away, massaging it like an injured bird.

"It was somewhat my fault. I told him I found him handsome, too."

"You were being polite, Miss Brasher."

"Yes, but...I honestly was attracted to him. Even though he was married and much older than me."

"I see."

"He began meeting later in the evenings. Our 'studies' lasted longer and longer, until...."

"Until what?"

Rebecca sniffled and bent forward, resting her chin on her fist. Her bottom lip quivered as if to keep from crying.

"He said we needed to join our bodies, that the Lord would want us to do so, and be happy."

"And did you want to?"

"Well...not at first, but he made it sound so fascinating and holy. After all, the ancient practices of solitude and prayer have helped me tremendously through the years. So why would this be different?"

"Oh. Oh, no."

"We lie together! And...that was...was...months ago! I thought it was all over!"

She cupped her belly with one hand.

"But now, I see, it's only begun!"

"Don't say that, dear. I'm here for you."

"I want my Auntie! She may be odd at times, but Heavens, if she isn't wise!" She burst into tears, heaving her entire body over and over. "How could I have pushed her away?!"

"I don't know, darling, but please don't be upset. It's not good for the child."

Rebecca shook her head and

"Why must it be about the child?! What about me? What about what that man...what I went though and now have to deal with?!"

Dr. Giddings held up his hands, mouth sputtering open as he gasped for words. But Rebecca had none of it; she wiped her eyes, gulped the rest of her tea, and shoved a few more bites of food into her mouth.

"I need to be alone, Doctor. Certainly, you understand."

"I-I...of course."

Rebecca set her breakfast aside and staggered upstairs, drained from telling her story. She sighed, wiping away tear after tear. Oh, Auntie, if only I hadn't been so deep in denial!

She collapsed back into the bed, pulling the crooked covers around her belly. The baby. Her heart raced; life would never be the same. As sweet as this baby would be, she didn't want it. She didn't like that the loss of her virginity meant the loss of her freedom. As kind as Dr. Giddings was, she didn't need a stranger helping her get her life sorted. She wanted God, yes, but she also wanted Aunt Abigail. She wanted the woman who kissed her on the forehead and told her everything would be all right. She wanted the woman who scolded her and slapped her with a switch. She wanted all of her— good and bad, plain and eccentric, tough and tender —for this was the only person who would see her bare heart and know that pain that pulsed within.

After all, she thought, Doesn't God's spirit flow through her? Perhaps even more...now that I see...that she actually cares. And that she felt the same pain I did, that Dinah did, all those years ago. O, the curse of being a woman...! Why can't men simply see me as a sister?!

Rebecca closed her eyes and grabbed the pillow, hugging it over her chest. The softness relaxed her muscles as the coolness soothed the hot tears away from her face. She pretended it was Aunt Abigail, hugging her close, comforting her in hushed tones, soothing her with the gentleness only a mother has.

"I love you, Rebecca, and there's nothing you could do to change it!"

Rebecca smiled and squeezed the pillow tighter, wishing she was stuck with that wonderful sinner.