All For Joy

"Margaret, have you done the milking?"

 Margaret abruptly put aside the hair brush and sighed.  Even May's bouncy voice irritated her.  "Just going."

 She sighed as she got out the stool and set the pail in place.  She didn't mind milking at all, normally.  It was her time to be alone, to think, to dream.  But today Robert would be coming and she wanted time to prepare with a good hot bath and time to re-pin her hair, put on her best dress.  She hurried through the milking and began to carefully bring the full pail back. 

 Soft laughter reached her just before she rounded the corner.  "Oh, Robert, you're so funny."

 Margaret rolled her eyes.  May.  Her sister was a notorious flirt.  May was beautiful and charming and delicate.  She was everything that Margaret was not.  While May had the graceful appearance of a young willow tree, Margaret's curves had as yet tempted no one.  Half the village had been smitten with May.  May was sixteen and their mother had turned special attention to May's wardrobe and appearance in general.  There was nothing as important as May making a good match.  Well, that was before Father's accident.

 Margaret was more than a little hurt that although three years older than May, nothing had ever been said about her own future.  No young men came to bring her flowers or think up pleasant things to say to her.  While May now had a fine selection of dresses that showed her blue eyes and chestnut hair at their best, Margaret made do with three sturdy, serviceable dresses with plenty of wear left in them. 

 Yet another younger sister, Joy, promised to be nearly as beautiful as May.  But at just ten years old, Joy was a quiet and reserved, bookish sort who found conversation trying if not nerve racking.  She had taken the death of their beloved father particularly hard for he had been especially fond of his youngest daughter.  Margaret felt a special bond with little Joy.  Joy's one and only friend lived on the neighboring farm and her older brother was Robert.  He would bring his sister to spend the day with Joy each week.  Robert was a hard-working farm boy with blue eyes, brown hair and an easy smile.  Of course, at the moment he was smitten with May but that would pass.  May would inevitably turn her attentions elsewhere as she always did.  Robert would be hurt, as they all were, but then the way would be open for Margaret.  She would find a way to make him see.  He must see how much she cared for him.  She would never toy with him as May did.  They would be quite happy together.  She was sure of it. 

 For now she continued on with the milk pail.  She'd not had time to prepare but there was no way to avoid walking past him in her patched work dress and untidy hair.  May was looking radiant as usual and Margaret was almost relieved when he seemed not to even notice her.  She brought the milk in and began to prepare dinner. 

 She checked on Mother but there was no change.  Mother had taken sick shortly after Father died two months earlier.  The doctor hadn't been able to find anything or offer any medicine.  No one was really sure what it was.  She only lay in bed all day long.  She ate nearly nothing and gradually grew thinner and thinner.  Her once beautiful black hair hung limp and she did not make any effort to pin it or even comb it.  Margaret combed it and her heart broke as she thought how Mother had fussed over their appearance as well as her own and how her eyes shined as she sewed beautiful garments for May even though they could not really afford it.  But when Father was gone, nothing else mattered any more.

 She brought a bowl of stew in to Mother and set it down on the small bedside table.  Mother's eyes were closed and Margaret began to leave quietly.  As she turned to go a gentle touch on Margaret’s hand stopped her.

 "You must care for Joy."  Mother hadn't spoken to anyone for days. 

 "Joy is quite well.  Shall I get her for you?"