The Periods of Being

Chapter XXVIII

Chapter XXVIII

    The summer leaves sway with the force of the wind slowly picking up as Olive and Julie descend down the hill toward the village church, where Mark has been resting for almost three years. Despite the many times Olive has visited him, her heart still aches at the sight of the gates. If she could travel back in time, she'll tell Mark not to go, to abandon his duty to England to stay with his wife. Maybe by now, they'll have a child together. She imagines it to be a girl named Jane or anything he wishes.

    Julie's lips sit tight on her face, as if she doesn't know what to say or if she is still wondering why Olive asked her to join her. Olive still isn't sure why she did either.

    "The weather is beautiful today," Julie speaks up.

    Small talk. Olive is accustomed to small talk. She should welcome it. She should talk about the weather with Julie, but she didn't bring Julie with her to only speak about the weather and insignificant things.

    "Thank you," Olive breathes out.

    Julie glances over to her briefly and then looks away to watch her footing. Their eyes keep down on their feet to make sure they don't trip on the gravel trail.

    "For what, m'lady?" She asks her.

    "For joining me," Olive says. "Thank you."

    "You don't need to thank me for coming down with you."

    Olive shakes her head at her reply.

    "No, you didn't have to come but you did," Olive tells her. The entrance of the cemetery dawns closer to them and with each step forward, her voice thins. "Thank you."

    "You don't need to thank me. It's my duty as your lady's maid to—"

    "You are more than that to me, Julie. Don't you see that?"

    The entrance of the cemetery stops them in their tracks and Olive looks up from the ground over to the gravestone over in the corner— Mark's gravestone. Julie keeps quiet and doesn't say anything as they step over the threshold of the cemetery. They are careful where they step, not wanting to step on where someone is resting and where the caskets had capsized. Once they reach Mark's, Olive kneels down without a word and runs her gloved palm on the etched letters of his name. Julie stands behind her with a hand over her mouth. Olive wonders how long it's been since Julie has visited Mark's gave— or if she has done so at all after all these years since the funeral.

    Mark David Garthen, the etched letters under her palm reads.

    David, she thinks, if we had a son, his name would've been David. Her heart skips a beat at the thought. The names of unborn children are all set, yet she'll never be able to give birth to them. She hates the fact that she wants children with him right now and not when he was alive.

    She retracts her hand away from the stone and sits on the back of her legs. Julie steps beside her and does the same.

    "He was a great man that didn't deserve what was dealt to him." Julie offers to her, but it does nothing to draw away the thunderous clouds over her head. It's a beautiful day, but like an umbrella, her sorrows cover her from the healing rays.

    "You're my best friend, Julie," she says, bringing back the conversation that occurred outside of the cemetery. "I'm sorry I haven't shown you how you are more than a lady's maid to me."

    Julie stays silent.

    Olive speaks more like she is opening her mind to all the thoughts that have been plaguing her for hours— when, in fact, they have been plaguing her for months now.