Power and Lies

Thirty-Two

"Tomorrow is the most important thing in life. Comes into us at midnight very clean. It's perfect when it arrives and it puts itself in our hands. It hopes we've learned something from yesterday."

-John Wayne

Polly did not handle the news well. Tommy had returned to the house and immediately sought out the company of his whiskey in the way that Lee had done before. Freya did not stop him, or ask any questions. The answers were written all over the stressed lines of his face. Freya instead busied herself with the runnings of the home, dusting surfaces despite the maid's disapproval, and helping the cooks chop up vegetables for dinner. She tried her best to make small talk, but she became winded easily from the exertion and finally stopped trying altogether. She could not imagine slowing down, but the child within her demanded a certain level of activity be stopped, and eventually she dragged herself up the stairs to her bed where to covers greeted her like an old friend.

Eventually Tommy dragged himself up to the bedroom when the sun had begun to creep below the hills and pulled her body into his. He peppered her with kisses that were more of a comfort to himself, but still she closed her eyes and sank into the feeling.

"I saw real pain today." Was all he could say about what had happened. She did not pry. She was not sure she could have done what he did, to make the sacrifices he did. They all looked at him like he was a puppet master, but she could see the emotional sacrifices he made. She could see the heaviness on his soul and in his bones. She used to hate the constant push and pull without direction he provided, but she could see not how much of that was simply to keep the family as innocent as the guilty could be. He would burn the skin from his bones before he allowed his family to be singed. What used to be an irritant had become a comfort to her.

She could not respond to his words, she only pushed her body further into his arms, and focused on the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, hoping he understood that she loved him deeply. Soon after the light snores of her husband told her she had taken enough burden away to let him sleep.

"I love you," she whispered to him, allowing her eyes to slip closed and to fall into slumber. The pair slept until dinner was cold and inedible and the moon was high in the night sky. When they woke Freya intertwined her hand within her husbands and pulled him to the garden to look up at the stars. Her heart was heavy for Polly, and she did not have words to express the feelings, so she simply stared out into the vastness of the sky hoping they would come.

"You remember when you were in the hospital?" Freya turned to look at Tommy, his eyes staring out into the brilliant vastness. She did not think often anymore on when she died-the memories were pain and peace all at once, and it was impossible to sort it all out and focus on the tasks at hand. So many things had happened through the years since.

"I do."

"When you were in the hospital I spoke to the stars."

She chuckled lightly. "And did they speak back?"

Her husband propped himself up on his elbow and stared down at her, his face serious. "I begged them to let you wake up." Her mind reeled back into her death, the desperate calls to wake up playing through her mind once more, like a memory whispering to her. The phantom voice had called to her, burned a fire within her soul, and coaxed her from the blissful pull of paradise.

"I heard you," she spoke trepidatiously, stepping carefully through the cobblestones of her memories, sidestepping the painful bits. "I could hear you. It pulled me back." Salty tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks despite her efforts. Tommy leaned over and pushed his lips against hers.

"I had a feeling."

"Why do you bring this up now?"

"Because I wonder if that is what Polly is doing now-praying to the sky for her children, for her daughter." The pain played along his face and she could tell he blamed himself for not bringing her children to her before the loss of her daughter.

Freya kissed him lightly before breathing deeply. "I imagine she is. But, Thomas Shelby- she prays for you too."

"Nobody prays for the likes of men like me."

"Bullshit." Tommy looked at his wife, surprised at the sudden profanity. "We all pray for the men like you."

"Why?"

"Because Tommy. Just because." If Tommy did not like her answer he did not let on, and he fell back onto his back looking out into the sky once more.

"I remember when I first told you that I loved you. You were combing my hair. Then you tried to fire me." It was Tommy's turn to laugh now and he did so effortlessly and happily.

"I believe I did fire you. You just would not accept it."

"Never."

"I loved you too, you know."

She did, in some way, but the memory of his rejection did sting. Even now, swollen with his child, it hurt. "I just couldn't tell you. Because men like me don't get to love women like you."

"And yet here we are. For the rest of our lives."

"Do you think there's life after this one?" He asked her and she sucked in air. She had seen paradise, but she had not seen past that. But she had to believe that there was.

"I think so."

She could tell Tommy was becoming tired once more, his eyelids drooping closed in the moonlight, the cool air lulling him back into sleep. "I hope that Polly is able to find her daughter in the next one."

"Me too," Freya spoke. She meant it too. Polly deserved the love of her children in this life, but if she could not have it, Freya hoped the next existence would be far kinder.

"I would never stop looking for you, not in any life." The romantic sentiment hung in the air between them, and Freya let the words sink into her heart as Tommy began to sleep once more. This man was never one she thought could exist. This kind, bleeding, heart was hid behind a rib cage of coldness, and she was thankful she had breached it.

"I will never leave you, in this life or the next." She whispered, letting the air carry her words to the sky, hoping the stars themselves could hear her promise.