STICH AND SCAR, chapter four
chase two girls, lose the one
WINTER SLIPPED AWAY into a moment of time as Spring washed over Concord. Small scattered wildflowers sprang from the weeds, pushing through some broken cobblestone. Arm and arm, Jo and Scarlett trampled over the poor weeds and flowers, laughing loudly without a care in the world. This was unfortunately set to a halt when they clamored through the front door of the March Residence.
Meg's voice, fueled with unusual spirit rang out. "I shall marry whomever I please, Aunt March, and you can leave your money to any one you like."
Eyes widening, Scarlett and Jo listened closer.
"Highty tighty!" said Aunt March. "Is that the way you take my advice, miss? You'll be sorry for it, by and by, when you've tried love in a cottage, and found it a failure."
"It can't be a worse one than some people find in big houses," retorted Meg.
There was a long silence, and the sounds of shuffling.
As though taking care of her words, the elderly lady said, "Now, Meg, my dear, be reasonable, and take my advice. I mean it kindly, and don't want you to spoil you whole life by making a mistake at the beginning. You ought to marry well, and help your family; it's your duty to make a rich match, and it ought to be impressed upon you."
"Father and mother don't think so; they like John, though he is poor."
"Your pa and ma, my dear, have no more wordily wisdom than two babies."
Scarlett glanced towards Jo, and did a double take, as the just grinning girl was now seething.
"I'm glad of it," cried Meg, stoutly.
"This Rook is poor, and hasn't got any rich relations, has he?"
"No; but he has many warm friends."
Aunt March scoffed. "You can't live on friends; try it, and see how cool they'll grow. He hasn't any business, has he?"
Scarlett zoned out, more appalled that her sweet Meg was nearly shout out in anger. The thought made her stomach churn. The March sisters had spoken scarce of their frightening aunt, who had always had her heart set on making fine matches with the sisters.
"Well, I wash my hands of the whole affair! You are a wilful child, and you've lost more than you know by this piece of folly. No, I won't stop; I'm disappointed in you, and haven't spirits to see your father now. Don't expect anything form me when you are married; your Mr. Book's friends must take care of you. I've done with you forever."
Aunt March stormed out of the living room, and took a double take at Scarlett's sudden appearance. "And who might you be, girl?"
"Scarlett Alastair, ma'am. I'm only a friend," stammered Scarlett, frightened of the woman.
The woman looked her up and down with a judging eye. "Hmpt."
And, slamming the door in their faces, Aunt March drove off in high dudgeon. Scarlett shifted her weight, unsure of what to do. Jo burst into the living room and stopped midway, gawking at the scene, her mouth as wide as her eyes. Scarlett followed suit. At the center of the rug, Meg was wrapped into an embrace with John Brooke.
It took a rather long time for Jo to collect herself and fully emerge into the room. Jo made a sound - a sort of a restrained gasp - and the two lovers turned and saw her.
"Sister Jo, congratulate us!" beamed Meg.
Jo opened and closed her mouth, uttering a strangled sound. Making some wild demonstration with her hands, she vanished without a word. She rushed upstairs, crying out tragically, "Oh, do somebody go down quick! John Brooke is acting dreadfully, and Meg likes it!"
The day let on, surprisingly more peaceful then Scarlett thought it would have. Jo locked herself away for the remainder of the day, while the adults talked privately. Feeling though she was invading a much too important day, she returned home and tended to her mother, who to Scarlett's relief, was making a recovery.
When her mother was well once more, Scarlett would be able to return to London.
But with the new and delightful news of Meg and John, it of course, promised a wedding. During the following weeks, preparations were to be arranged, and Scarlett was more than pleased to offer a hand.
"Doesn't it seem very long to wait?" asked Amy, who was in a hurry for the wedding.
"I've got so much to learn before I shall be ready, it seems a short time to me," answered Meg, with a sweet gravity in her face, never seen there before.
"You have only to wait. I am to do the work," said John, picking up Meg's napkin, causing Jo to shake her head and roll her eyes.
Saving the group from another meaningless quarrel, the door barged open.
Laurie came prancing in, overflowing with spirts, bearing a great bridal-looking bouquet for "Mrs. John Brooke," and evidently laboring under the delusion that the whole affair had been brought about by his excellent management.
There was a great uproar of laughter and shouts. Laurie and Jo eventually stepped away for a side conversation, Scarlett smiled pleasantly and was whisked away with Amy and Beth to discuss attire options.
It was nearly an hour after when Scarlett discovered that Laurie had still not went home.
"Hello Laurie," said Scarlett, in a airy manner, studying a book of flowers and their symbolism.
"Scarlett," he answered promptly. "I haven't seen you much lately."
"I've been moving around very frequently. I enjoy having things to keep me busy."
"Really? You seem like the type to enjoy tranquility. Repose."
She turned up from her reading and tilted her head to look at him. "Everybody does. I only like to have it during fitting times."
"And what would be a fitting time?"
"After a well round of work. I'd be too tired to consider anything else."
Laurie tilted his head, studying her. "I used to know someone just like you. I liked to call her Red. She was down-to-earth and smart. Never smart enough, however." He paused. "Scarlett, my dear, did you really try to wipe yourself from me?"
Scarlett fell quiet, but was sensible enough to not turn pale. "Laurie, I had every right."
"Perhaps. And I'm going to say sorry."
"Sorry isn't enough," she snapped, growing irritated. Her sudden lash left them both quiet.
"Red," said Laurie, very quietly. "You know that I'm sorry. And I think you know why I didn't write."
"You were too caught up with your new friends."
Scarlett felt a pit of grief and regret washing over her. Laurie watched her, feeling sorrow sink in, slashing at him with invisible needles.