Mother Knows Best

Chapter 2

Growing up as a farmer's daughter, I'd never had the luxury of sleeping past dawn. And although as a child I had often complained about the hard work that must be done in the early morning chill, I had grown to love and even look forward to watching the sunrise every morning. 

Yet in just three short months, I have grown accustomed to waking after the sun when the maid comes in to pull back the curtains, as she does now.

"Good morning, m'lady," she says, a little too loudly for my taste. "I am very sorry, but it's time to get up."

"Oh Rosemarie," I say with a groan as my body reluctantly pulls itself out from under the sheets. "It can't possibly be time yet. I was having the most wonderful dream." I look at her, trying to make eye contact, to see if she'll even bother asking me about my dream. This is a game I play with her nearly every morning, my attempt at getting her to open up. But she always responds with silent indifference, with hardly as much as a glance my way.

Ignoring the fact that she is ignoring me, I start recounting my dream to her. "I was back home in my father's orchard, just lying in the grass and watching the clouds go by." She continues drawing back curtains at each of the windows. "My sweet kitten was there snuggled up next to me." Rosemarie sets out my clothes for the day next to my vanity. "Each cloud was taking shape before my eyes, one turning into a sailboat, one into a rabbit, another into a flower. They were beautiful. Then -"

"I'll go fetch some water for your wash basin, mum," Rosemarie interrupts, and she slips out of the room. 

I sigh heavily, still sitting on the bed, and mumble to myself, "You probably wouldn't want to hear the rest of it anyway." I lay my head on the pillow again for just a moment and wrap my arms around myself, wistful to return to the dream and feel Johnathan's arms around me in the orchard. I still miss you, I whisper into my pillow. 

Rosemarie walks back in with the steaming kettle and begins to fill the basin for me to wash my face. I sit up again quickly, shoving my moment of nostalgia under the pillow to return to tonight. As much as I have tried to forget Johnathan and love my new husband, these last three months have only shown me how difficult both of these things will be. 

I hurry out of bed and walk to the vanity, working to keep the sadness out of my eyes and away from Rosemarie's notice. Again I try to start a conversation.

"What's for breakfast this morning, Rosemarie?" 

"I'm sure I don't know, mum. You'd have to ask Cook." More silence as she helps me into my dress and begins lacing the back closed. I try again.

"Any word from Charles regarding when he will be home?" As a traveling merchant, Charles is away from home often, and we never know exactly how long he will be gone. 

"I haven't heard yet, mum. Tyler thought he might ride into the city after breakfast and see if he can learn any news." Tyler, our young stable boy, is our main source of town gossip.

Unsure of what else to say to encourage Rosemarie to open up, I decide to embrace the silence as she finishes helping me dress and leaves me to fix my hair. As she closes the door behind her, I stare at my reflection in the mirror, wondering how I could suddenly look so old. Lines have begun to form around my eyes, showing just how tired my thirty-five years have made me. 

I blink quickly to send away the melancholy that is never far away and run my comb through my hair so fast it causes a frizz. Setting my mind on the day ahead of me, I tame my wavy locks and pin them in a pile on top of my head, then make my way downstairs.

I barely step into the hall before I am almost forced to retreat again into my room. Ella and Anastasia come running through the hallway, giggling and shrieking, Anastasia tailing a few feet behind Ella. Nana Sarah follows behind as quickly as her round body and short legs will allow her, her face even redder than usual from the exertion.