My Dear Boy

The Unthinkable

"Marmee!" Jo called, entering her childhood home.  "Marmee!"

"Jo, dear," Marmee answered, hurrying down the stairs to meet her daughter.  "What is it?  Has something happened?"

She shook her head.  "Laurie's fever has risen.  I don't know what to do for him."

"Come, sit," Marmee said gently, removing her daughter's shawl and leading her into the parlor.  "Can Mr. Laurence spare you?"

Jo nodded.  "Laurie is sleeping. How's Bethy?"

"Resting now.  She still tires so easily."

Jo nodded again, staring down at her hands folded together in her lap.  "Marmee, there's... there's something else.  Teddy, he... he told me he still loves me."

"Oh, Jo," her mother sighed, patting her knee.  "I'm sorry, dear."

Jo worried her lower lip for a moment, thinking how to best to say what was in her head.  And her heart.  For an author, sometimes she had such a terrible time with words!  "I'm not sure I am." 

Marmee inclined her head, waiting for an explanation.  Jo stood from her chair, pacing, as she was wont to do.  "Teddy is my dearest friend, of that there is no doubt.  And of course I love him, just not as he'd like me to.  At least, I thought I didn't.  But, oh!  Marmee, I could not stop thinking of him while I was in New York!  I felt absolutely wretched for leaving like I did, and he hates me for it, I know he does.  And I don't blame him!  I thought once I returned such foolish notions would be out of his head, but they're not.  And they're not out of mine either.  Not entirely. Marmee, the thought of Teddy marrying, of taking a wife whom I know will be prettier than me, for how could she not be, is unbearable!  She'll become his best friend then, and he'll tell her everything, and they'll have splendid adventures together, and he'll forget all about me."  She finished her rant with a heavy sigh, crossing her arms across her middle as though she could protect herself from loosing Laurie to far worse a fate than marriage.  One she hardly dare speak aloud.  Hot tears pooled in her dark eyes once again and she pressed a trembling hand to her mouth.  "Or what if... Should he... Marmee, if after everything I were to lose him now...  When I think of life without Teddy... I can't even begin to imagine it.  And that tells you something there, doesn't it?"

"Yes, I believe it does," Marmee said patiently.

"Do you think I was too hasty in my decision, Marmee?" Jo asked, whirling about to face her mother, unbound chestnut curls wildly cascading down her back.

"No, I do not," she answered honestly, and Jo wished someday to posses the wisdom she saw in Marmee's eyes.  "But, things can change, Jo.  People change.  Feelings may even change, given time." 

Jo was silent as she contemplated this. 

Sensing the conversation was over, Marmee referred back to Jo's original reason for coming, "Well, you know most everything I do about caring for someone who is ill.  He must drink plenty of water or tea.  And give him broth to keep his strength up," she said.  Jo nodded.  "Don't give him any more blankets than necessary, Jo.  He may feel cold, but if his fever is as high as you claim, extra blankets will only raise it.  Sponge him down with cool water.  His face, neck, chest, and such.  It will make him more comfortable and bring the fever down.  Did you rub his feet and legs as I showed you with Beth?"

"Yes, Marmee."

"That's my girl," Marmee said with a small smile, giving her headstrong daughter a quick embrace.  "Now, hurry back so you'll be there when he wakes.  Have Mr. Laurence send for me, should the need arise.  Beth will be fine with Hannah if you find yourself short-handed."