Hiram confessed to his inner self that the way he expressed concern for Adaline wasn't the best option he could've chosen. The truth was that hearing of Adaline's love life did something inside him. It wasn't positive – he didn't know what it was, it was such a hazy, distorted feeling. At first, Hiram believed it to be annoyance at Adaline's ignorance or her sensitivity to the facts she was presented with. Deep down, he knew that that was false. He begrudgingly heeded his sister Isobel's words and followed through with the apology. He wanted to sound genuine, but forcing himself to apologise was like walking against an ongoing swoosh of wind going in the opposite direction.
"Adaline", he had called out. As soon as she saw him, she flushed and headed the opposite direction. Adaline had shrunken into herself, shoulders hunched over and head bent down, her eyes glued to the ground before her. Some force coiled itself around his chest. How was he going to justify his behaviour? Or a better question: how would he be able to preserve both their friendship and his pride? Hiram was certain none of the fault was his, but he couldn't help thinking his previous behaviour monstrous when faced with the aftermath and this timid little woman.
"Wait!" And why is it so difficult to admit you're in the wrong? He could easily spend time with Ben and his crew of friends, but couldn't show he cared for someone of his own social standing.
"No. I know I made mistakes in my love life – grave ones – but you have no right to make it your business when I didn't ask for you to involve yourself." She'd turned around, but clung to herself like she was supporting herself.
"I didn't me- I was trying to warn you."
"What did I just say?"
"It's just because you're so sensitive," he spat out.
"Maybe you should try it sometime! My mistake, but I thought you were going to say you were sorry!" she fumed.
Pause. Adaline rose her hands to her hips, and Hiram crossed his arms and furrowed his brow.
"I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean to get into this mess; I didn't mean to make you upset," Hiram continued.
"I guess I'll accept whatever that is... That's an apology?" Adaline bent her mouth into a flash of a smile, just as quickly back to stern disappointment. Hiram breathed a huff of relief.
*****
Back at the old shambled Carter house, Isobel continued scolding and disapproval of her brother's habits. Hiram groaned to himself, readying for the lecture he knew was coming.
"Hiram, I've been thinking lately, an-"
"Oh, Isobel. Nothing good can come of that."
"Shush, Hiram. You barely ever leave the house. I know that your injury has been an obstacle in your work and social life, but now you're nearing a recovery. You should come to the church dance. It's-" Isobel was once again interrupted.
"Oh, come off it!"
"I'm completely serious. Please come," she pleaded, hanging off his arm in desperation.
"No."
"Yes."
"On the condition that you stop nagging me incessantly."
Isobel clapped her hands with joy and jumped up to kiss his cheek.
"There's no need to be all in a flutter about things. Church dances are silly and unnecessary. Mostly about proving to everyone that you're involved in the church, and showing off that you have a partner to dance with," he argued.
"Oh, nonsense! The funds raised from the church dance go towards the education of orphaned children in Callabucor. And you're so fond of social justice and equality," she went on. Hiram Carter nodded slowly. She really knew how to trap him into agreeance.
"And I'm so glad you've agreed," Isobel continued. "I have a plan for just the occasion. I've got a partner all ready for you: a Miss Alberta Lancaster."
"Isobel..."
"Hiram, you're quite the lucky man. I don't think you realise just how many men are after her. It was like a competition trying to get her to agree."
"Wow, thanks. Just tell me how undesirable I really am."
Isobel raised her eyebrows in a know-it-all fashion, and Hiram feigned hurt. Hiram prepared himself for all the small talk he would have to endure that night.
*****
Adaline watched on in horror as Hiram Carter and Alberta Lancaster swept the floor during a sultry waltz. Many things in life surprised her, but this went beyond all the other boyish, naïve moments that sum up a life. She felt boyish and naïve. The two instigators of her shame were paired up. But surely if Hiram felt disappointed in Adaline for her unfortunate romantic pursuits, he would feel the same way about this woman. How could he know that William Mauzy had been seeking out other women without knowing the other women's identities?
For reasons unknown, she found it hard to picture Hiram in any kind of relationship. He always sneered when Isobel listed off names of couples in the gossip section of the Underbridge newspaper. Isobel knew the writer – Mrs Knope – personally, so she pushed it onto anyone she spoke to. Mrs Knope must have known the Underbridge wasn't the most objective of papers, but Denton wasn't any Havilliere. Havilliere's Chronicle did more of the hard work: exposing corrupt leaders of Yonderland like James Timber. He had deliberately underpaid mine workers, and word had gotten out.
Another instance of surprise and grotesque displeasure came in the form of Mr Mauzy himself. He was approaching her at rapid speed, and so she went on the route of escape she could think of: run out the door. In the following moments, she discovered the unreliability of romance novels – how they warp reality - and that the love interest doesn't always run after the female with a mind filled with wishes to pull her aside and express his deepest feelings to her. In fact, the serial romantic men are usually the strangest ones.
There she was, sorely disappointed. The thrill of the chase was over, and she knew it. Though Adaline knew she had a weakness where feelings were involved, it never stopped trouble from brewing. Inside the church hall, the music had changed from slow and angular sounds to joyful, folk tunes. Adaline knew that Father Shepherd and the town council possibly viewed her departure as lousy, but she had done her Christian almsgiving duty, and put the remainder to rest.
The way Mr Mauzy treated her as something to use and dispose of brought to mind memories of a past life. Dante Russo – that boy who had captured her attention at first glance – took her to bed one night and left her to her own devices afterwards. Left her with child. Attempting to lighten her load, she'd confided in her sister Susan, believing her to be a trusted outside source. Her judgement obviously went amiss. Susan never admitted to what she'd done, but all at once her parents knew of the incident, and Susan couldn't wipe a smirk from her face. Mr and Mrs George and Edith Branson didn't want to take any part in her shame, and so of course they disowned her and sent her packing. So much for unconditional familial love...
Adaline had noticed twenty years ago how Susan had always returned to her starry-eyed, dimple-cheeked girly appearance each time she saw Dante. At that stage, Adaline had been fifteen, and Susan was seventeen – the same age as Dante. She was witness to hand-holding and affectionate glances, but not much else. The whole ordeal was baffling. It wasn't as if Adaline was overly sought after. Regardless, Mr and Mrs Branson sent Susan with Adaline and Dante on a majority of their outdoor treks, and trips into town. Adaline suspected that Susan was interested. Dante, however, only spoke to her when the awkward silence became too much to handle.
The fraying edges of her mind's eye kept the image of his nonchalant glance at her burning in her memory. This was a few days prior to 'the incident' that changed it all. His father was of course notified promptly after word began to circle. A stranger would only think the two of them had no knowledge of each other, intimate or otherwise. Her guesses could only be made about what she saw, yet knowing him well enough and his deep admiration for his father, she envisioned he'd been compelled to ignore her. He wouldn't just dismiss her like this without a good reason, at least not in Adaline's mind.
She had sought something in him that she didn't find in her mother and father, and the search had ended up fruitless. Even the love of God that was preached in church seemed empty and shallow to her. How could a love like that be stronger than a physical, tangible relationship? The way everyone talked about Him... He must be stiff-lipped and hateful.
Ongoing lifelong rejection changes a person. Adaline feared more than she didn't, and even that scared her. She feared that she was too messy to be fixed. Her mind didn't function normally. Enduring love was what Adaline needed, and so that was what she found next. She figured that if she was so undesirable to humans, that the only logical next course of action was to go to a Higher Power. A God called 'Love' was bound to find some redeeming quality in her if He knew everything about her. She doubted she was as bad as a murderer.
So she crawled into the foetal position one night on the streets, cold and afraid. Each tear felt like a prayer and a cry of help. Adaline knew how pitiful she must appear to passerbys, but made no move to change her demeaner. In her vulnerable state, she sensed a warmth in her chest that transcended beyond the physical, and peace covering her like a blanket. Though her situation remained the same, she had felt its burden lift off her, with the knowledge planted into her that she needn't worry. Verses came to mind.
'For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light' (Matthew 11:30)
'Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they?' (Matthew 6:26)
And at the ends of her days where the world only took and bled her dry, Adaline knew there was One she could rely on to fill her again. He went from Comforter, to Friend, to Father, to the only One she needed. But of course on occasion, she would slip up and go searching for that love somewhere else where it couldn't be found, like in a man or a romance. She sometimes forgot that she already had access to it.
It had always been times such as these, where her heart became broken, that she quickly came to this realisation again. It was where she depended on another person for perfect, unfailing love like in a fairy-tale, that she got stung. But at some point, there is a limit to the amount of heartbreak you can endure. And so that night, she vowed to herself she'd never again fall in love with an imagined reality. Adaline Branson would fix her eyes upwards, and take directions from Him, rather than her fleeting emotions.