The Periods of Being

Chapter XXX

Chapter XXX

Ever since the funeral, pre-dinner in the drawing-room is the time Olive despises. The cookies sit in her stomach like a rock as she sits in the drawing-room dressed in her evening dress— in black—, waiting for Neil to walk in. With Julie in her room earlier, it didn't take her long to tend to her for the dinner. She tried to convince Julie to send up dinner in her room, but after her confession about her and Neil's broken friendship, she was told that dinner wouldn't be sent up to her.

     It gave her another sign that Julie is her friend. If she had told any other lady's maid that she requests for dinner in her room, they would've said yes and never bat an eye at it. She thanks Julie, but at the same time, she frowns upon her.

     Dinner in her room sounds divine at the moment and she wishes that she was instead of waiting in the drawing-room. For Neil. For the familiar uncomfortable silence to commence between them. She fumbles around with the wedding ring around her neck at the thought of it. The silence deafens the ears of thinkers and wishers. Thinkers that think about only the past. And wishers that wish that the past didn't happen.

     Why did she snap when he tried to put a smile on her face? Why did she not laugh with him and play along in his childish act? She can't hate herself for all the questions that wander in her head from that moment, but she can beat herself up about it.

     "You need to talk to him tonight. The longer you wait to make amends with him, the harder it'll be to patch it back together." Julie told her in her room while she was in the middle of doing her hair. The words echo in her mind again.

    What am I supposed to say? She asks herself. Her hands drop down to her lap with the question and she starts to fiddle with the tips of her gloves.

    She is too lost in the words that she has reversed in her mind to say to Andrew, that she can't see that this problem is the most important one. If she doesn't fix her friendship with Neil, then she won't be able to live at Garthen. She wouldn't be able to endure more silent dinners and fear of meeting him in the library when she wishes to read. She needs to talk to him, but how?

    The door's hinges break the air around the entrance and the figure of Neil steps through the threshold. He holds an all too familiar frown on his face. He wears a black tie suit tonight, but even without the black, she is aware that he broke away from his mourning months ago. She can tell by the shine in his hair and the glow of his skin. The frown clashes with the happiness that he tries to acquire.

    She gulps at the sight of him.

    Say something, her mind screams.

    She wets her lips and runs her tongue around her teeth to taste the last bits of sugar from the cookies.

     "Hello," she greets to him.

     His shoulders rise in an attack as if he is shocked by the greeting and his head turns to her. She can see that his eyes are scanning her. Maybe by her words, he might've thought that he would see her in a colored dress. Maybe by her words, he thought she was out of her mourning. When he notices the black dress and the midnight gloves, his shoulders drop in sorrow. Her heart clenches onto this confusing scene in front of her.

    "Hello?" He greets back in a question more than in a statement.

    "How are you today?" She speaks, making small conversation.

    "Fine, and you?"

    "Fine." She answers. She purses her lips as she does so and waits for him to carry the conversation, but she can't expect him to carry them both to renewal. She needs to understand this.