The Farmer's Daughter

One Tragedy After Another

I laid awake that night. My heart missed him greatly already. Father kept eying me from across the table for dinner. But I said nothing. I noticed nothing. I should've, however. Maybe my life would've been much simpler if I had.

The moon rose and left quickly. The sun was eager to start the day, unlike myself. I dreaded my first day without Tim. I got up from my bed, left my room, and went about my day the same old way that I had before he had found his way to me. I milked the cows, rounded the hay, and fed our pigs. It was as if nothing had changed! Mon dieu! I was utterly devastated.

"Bonjour, Annette." I didn't need to look up to see that it was just Philipe. "Ce va bien?" I shrugged. I wasn't doing too good. Not at all. But did it really matter? I was stuck in an endless loop of sadness that I couldn't see the exit for. He cleared his throat as he sat down next to me. "He's gone, then?" I nodded my head. "Pourquoi? If he loves you, why would he leave?" I fiddled with a weed. "That's the problem, Philipe. He does love me. He left to speak with his family. Although, I'm not sure about what."

"I wasn't aware that he had family," he leaned back onto his elbows. "He never mentioned them before."

"Does it matter?" I ripped the weed out with my fingers, unearthing it's invasive roots. "He's not here anymore. And on top of everything, my lady grandmother wants me to go with her. To move into the city and become a lady. Papa has no objections, apparently. But I have many." Starting with my mama's grave being here in Pierre-mont and ending with Tim's promise to return. "Non, Annette, non! I don't agree." I scoffed. Of course he doesn't agree. "If I was in your shoes, I would've accepted to go in order to take care of my family! Bring them out of poverty." I rubbed my eyes in exhaustion. I should've gotten some sleep. The morning has dragged on.

"I live in poverty too, Philipe! I have had hardships like many others in this town. The only difference is that my past has come with stipulations that involve money." I laid my back all the way down to the cold ground. "If I were to agree, I would not leave as Annette the Farmer's Daughter. I would not leave with the same freedom. Most importantly, I would not leave with my beloved. I would never see him again."

He sighed, laying down with me. "Let me be frank, Annie. We've barely known him for a month. Have you thought that maybe he played with your feelings?" I couldn't believe my ears! Out of everyone who I thought would be against me, I didn't think that he would be one of them. "Philipe! Je ne peux pas te croire! I cannot believe you would say that to a friend that you've come to know."

"Yes, he is my friend," he rolled over to side and looked at me, "but you were mine first. If he did what I think he did, then I wouldn't think twice before defending your honor."

*****

Doubt had started to creep up my near debilitating sorrow. Had he truly played me? Gotten close to me just to leave once he got bored? Those actions are reserved for the men in higher society. Tim and I are part of the common folk. I aggressively chopped the vegetable for our soup. My mood had taken a turn after my talk with Philipe. It's incredibly annoying!

"Okay!" Papa's voice startled me. I nearly cut my finger because of it. "Tell me what is wrong. Now. Before all we have to eat is mush!"

"It's nothing, papa." I continued to chop the carrots. "I'm just getting the vegetables ready for dinner." Papa huffed at my lies. "I knew ya better than that, girl. Ever since that boy left, ya've been in a foul mood." I shoved the knife down and took a breather. "I would rather not talk about it." I've already had a talk with Philipe that did not go the way I wanted it to. Telling papa about my love for Tim may not be the best thing to do.

Papa coughed a bit. "I don't bloody care what ya would rather do, Annette-Marie!" I turned around with a fury. "Don't curse at me papa!"

"I will do whatever I please in my bloody house!"

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Do you really want to know?" He coughed through a chuckle. "That's what I'm askin' for, Annette. Ya mama was the same. Stopped talkin', got in a foul mood, snapped at everybody." My fingertips tapped against the wood. This whole conversation was irate. I couldn't see the end of it! "Papa, I am in love!" My declaration left him speechless. His face got all serious. Too serious. Deadly serious. It didn't occur to me that his only adolescent daughter had just shattered the innocent image he had of his little fille.

"I am in love with Tim. And ever since he left, I've not been able to stop missing him. To stop wanting him to be here rather than wherever he is right now! But I promised that I would wait for him. That's why I refuse to leave with the Duchess." He clutched his hands the dining chair tightly. A lot of thoughts run through his mind, I bet. But I didn't care. I was unrelenting about my feelings on the manner.

"Oh, Annie," he shook his head slowly, "you are basin' this decision on that boy?" I hated the way he said that. It felt like an insult. "Ya willing to turn down the life that ya mama wanted for this boy!" I grinded my teeth. "You do not know what mama would've wanted for me! But I do not want that life for myself. I want this one. The one that you gave me!"

"I can no longer give you that life, Annette-Marie!"He coughed too aggressively after that outburst. His whole body wrecked and trembled. I ran to his side and held him. "Ya can no longer stay here because our time here is comin' at an end. I cannot make ends meet anymore. I cannot keep up with the farm's demands." I seated him down carefully. The whole picture became complete. Why grandmother found me and why papa had insisted on my going with her. "You called for her, didn't you?"

He nodded and he rubbed his chest. "I sent her a letter five moons ago. I had hoped she would believe me." Papa is sick. I didn't need to say the words out loud. I knew by the sound of his cough. I knew by how tired he had gotten over the last few months. Every week, he appeared more and more exhausted and brittle. My heart cracks under the pressure. "I understand what ya feel for this boy," he quietly said to me, "but ya cannot stay here. I won't leave ya this land alone with ya." The pain was too much. My own father was sick and he's decided to give into it.

After a silent dinner, I cleaned everything and made sure that papa was sleeping soundly. I sat in my room for half an hour before had begun to feel like they were caving in on me. I got a pen and paper, wrote a quick note to papa and left in the dead of night. For now, I'd try to do things papa's way. For now, I'd do as grandmother orders.