Love in 1865

Chapter Three

It would be a few hours before I went home- still with little desire to be there. Mother noticed my arrival, but said little as she cooked Adalaine's favorite meal, shepherd's pie. At this point, I was definitely considering Mr. Ambrose's offer with no fault of hers. I heard laughter coming from the dining room and my wondering mind wandered with me to see what the fuss was about. "There's my magnificent daughter!" Shouted my drunken father. Also to my misfortune, my submissive father is accompanied by Paul, the last person I wanted to be in contact with today. Mockingly, Paul kissed my hand. "I was so worried that you wouldn't make it before I left, Gwyneira. I wanted your father to be my witness as you give an answer to my proposal." His face held a childish sneer as he rested his hands on his hips. "Master Paul, I have decided to deny your proposal and accept a different one," I lied through my gritted teeth, which is not good for my teeth or soul, but I needed an escape. With surprise he inquired, "Who may this 'other proposal' have come from, which is far more enticing than mine, that you have so easily accepted?"

My father had a bewildered look in his eyes that read either disappointment or an immediate slam to sober. Though he owned the town's best bar and brewery, Father had never been drunk in front of me until this moment. But it wasn't uncommon for him to drink a couple beers or shots of whiskey when Paul was around. He started a pipe, and looked between us with much concern.

"Today I met Mr. Ambrose, and he offered me a job as an assistant librarian, so I am afraid that I can't be a full time mom for your children- not to mention a full time wife. And because I know you would refuse me my natural rights as a person, I don't want to be your slave. Oh! Pardon my language, obviously the title is wife... Daddy, I must go to 'Book&Tailor Shoppe', I will return soon." Before I could leave, Father jumped out of his chair. "Think Gwyneira! By denying Master Paul's marriage proposal, you will never be allowed to see the boys again. Do you want that?" I headed for the doorway and sternly answered, "Father, I am sick of being controlled by men and people who think they know best and are blinded by their image. I am making this decision because I am no longer going to throw away my self-respect or dignity because my dead sister had a poor choice in men!"

I slammed the door on my way out, and ran. I ran at my best speed while trying to maintain stamina. It wasn't fully dark yet, and I had barely enough light to make it to the shop. I realized I could have ridden one of the family horses, but logic escaped me during the heated conversation with Paul and Father. I arrived at the shop at the final curtain of light, and entered without so much as a knock. I took a moment to regain posture and breath before walking down the large rows of bookcases "Mr. Ambrose! It is I, Gwyneira, who has walked through your doors. Mr. Ambrose?" I called for him repeatedly, but soon gave up and began to search this building I was bound to work. During my venture, I realized that I forgot how to read. I went to school until I was thirteen, but my father didn't like me reading books because of how opinionated they made my sister. I suppose as time went on, I began to lose the skill. There was a book in my hand with a large rose, these pages were soft and delicate; so beyond full of knowledge; the keys to transformation. I finally stopped admiring the book in my hands when I noticed a flicker of gold light from the corner of my eye.  Beyond the shelf was a backroom where I found the tailor asleep at his bench with a book that was well worn on his worktable, and beside him, were several others like this book. I took some needles and thread from his organizer and looked over each book for spine damage, loose pages, and such, then resewing them into their places. After fixing the books, I found their spots on the shelves. I spent long hours in the night restoring books, exploring, and eventually finding the janitor closet. I tried my best to be quiet as I swept and mopped floors, dusted the books and shelves, and cleaned the windows until morning finally hit. Then I decided my work was done. I had become very tired and walked back into the room where the tailor still slept, and I fell asleep on the couch in front of the warm fire after closing the drapes.