Field of Poppies

October 1918

             It was a startling cold fall. Amelia felt the chill in her bones and she couldn't entirely blame it on the weather. Tommy had successfully distanced himself from her and she was feeling the effects deep in her heart. The man she had married was gone. It was something that she forced herself to reckon with.

There was another thing she had to reckon with come October when a chill was starting to form in the air.

Luckily, it was Martha who intercepted him before he came into the betting shop. What was even luckier was Arthur and Tommy were gone on business in London.

She came over to find Amelia helping out with the books for the day. "Mel, there's a man at the window asking for you."

"Who is it?" She hardly looked up from the ledger, too consumed with work. It had become one of two outlets she had. Working in the shop and tending to the children.

The pregnant woman shrugged. "Said he knew you. Said he came from London."

That caused to Amelia lift her head. There were few people she knew from London who knew she was in Birmingham. "Was he older?" She feared maybe her mother had disclosed her location to her father.

"No, 'bout your age I'd guess."

That made Amelia even sicker to her stomach. "Thanks, Marty, I'll handle it." She stood up and went to the window.

Martha, sensing her sister-in-law's uneasiness, followed close behind just in case.

Steven was the son of a wealthy banker and a socialite. He'd known nothing but luxury and excess. Rarely did people deny him.

As much as Amelia hated to admit it, Max did resemble him in a way. They had the same hazelnut-colored eyes and light brown hair. But she had blocked out most of that. She could separate her son from the monster who took advantage of her.

"Leave." She snarled.

"Amelia, please if you just let me..."

"Let you what? Huh? You don't deserve a second to explain anything." She gripped the doorjamb, trying to maintain her composure.

"I've just come back from France. I did a lot of thinking over there. Your mother sent me a letter about seeing you. About what she found out."

"She should've kept her mouth shut." Amelia interrupted. "She had no right to tell you anything."

"No right? How dare you not tell me about the pregnancy? I have an eight-year-old-"

Martha caught Amelia before she could lunge at the man.

"You have nothing!" She shouted. "You have no right to claim him as your own. Neither do my parents. You keep him out of your thoughts because you'll never have anything to do with him. I'll die before I let you near him."

Undeterred by Amelia's ferocious state, Steven continued. "I have every right as his father. You'll have trouble if you keep him from me, Amelia!"

"You're not his fucking father!"

"John!" Martha shouted back into the shop for her husband. She was having a difficult time reining Amelia in.

"He'll know nothing of you. And you'll never know him. You won't even know his name. You go back to London and you never come back here again, do you hear me?"