"Ruin and Redemption"

Lovebirds in the Parlor

Hi, dear readers. Stick with me, and I assure you you'll get another update soon! Thanks!

Lizzie was in the dining room, calming her nerves by polishing the furniture. Oddly enough, Scarlett had agreed to join her after Lizzie had agreed to let her modify one of her own gowns to greet their guest from Charleston.

Lizzie was in a white dress with lace across the top of her bosom and around her neck, as well as long lacy sleeves. She had removed her gloves to polish the furniture. Scarlett wore a light blue gown which she had stayed up late the night before remaking.

“We’re gonna look just as good as she does,” Scarlett assured Lizzie, “When Derrick walks in and sees us like this he’s gonna turn right around and take her back where she came from."

Lizzie was too lost in her own thoughts to even hear what Scarlett was saying, let alone reply to her. She was remembering how Derrick had looked at Esme before he kissed her on the street of the hotel where she and Derrick werestaying in Charleston. And how he scarcely even noticed her as she tagged along on their date and trotted behind the happy couple as if she were a servant.

And now I’m as black as any slave. Pretty soon, she’ll be here to take over my home and make me her servant. I suppose I’d better please her if I still want Derrick’s protection. After all, our marriage is hardly even legal.

Lizzie was so depressed she hardly had energy to complete the task. Scarlett polished several pieces while Lizzie focused only on the top surface of the dresser.

“Lizzie, snap out of it. I ain’t polishing this whole damn room on my own!”

“Oh. I didn’t even realize what I was doing.” She squatted down to finish off the piece. It wasn’t easy as she was trying to hold in her stomach whilst doing so. Otherwise, the corset she had chosen to wear would pinch horribly. And the lace scratching against her neck reminded her of the coarseness of a noose.

Lizzie heard horses' hooves approaching the house. It was either time to run and hide from another gang, face her worst fears and allow Esme to enter her father’s house.

“Here, give me the rags, Lizzie. It’s them, it’s gotta be. Now straighten your dress and look sharp,” Scarlett commanded, taking the rags and throwing them inside a bench. She brought a wet towel and they both cleansed their hands with it. Scarlett left to toss it with the laundry.

Lizzie wondered if her face was as white as her hands. The horses' hooves stopped, and someone was leading them to the hitching post.

Oh, God. How was she going to manage this? What words of welcome was she going to manage for the interloper? Her hands were shaking, and it felt as though her tongue had fallen back into her throat. How was she going to get anything out?

Lizzie stood there until she heard the knock on the door. Her husband, home with his lover---and Scarlett still not back from the laundry room. She wished with all her heart that Scarlett could be there to open the door, so that she would not have to. Perhaps then she could plead a headache and retreat to her bedroom where she would be safe from seeing her husband and Esme kissing and fondling each other in the parlor.