The Sun and Moon and Stars

Chapter XIII

The early afternoon air held a heavy sense of anticipation. As if the very earth itself was holding its breath.

Frances dropped her hands to her sides and shook them out. Her shoulders protested and spikes of pain trailed up and down her arms. One of the pins in her mouth pricked her tongue and a soft metallic taste flavored her mouth. The yellow curtains hung half off the curtain rod Julian had nailed into place that morning.

Through an open window, Jem and Winie's laughter could be heard, Julian's hatchet sounding out at intervals, hacking away at a felled tree.

"What do you think? Is the yellow nice?" Frances looked over her shoulder at Rebecca who lay on a spread blanket at the foot of the kitchen table. The girl paid her no mind.

Frances sighed and turned back to the curtains. Just as her hands reached up to continue working, the bell tinkled down the staircase.

Not again.

She had gone to visit Helena earlier that day to bring her water and mop her forehead. And again an hour later. And at every hour since five o-clock that morning. It had only been twenty minutes since her last visit. The woman could barely lift the bell. Soon, France would have to pull the children from their play and assign them to her bedside at intervals. She hated that. No child should have to watch their mother cough up blood and gasp for breath. Helena could barely even speak through the pain. At this point, Frances was forced to try and interpret the missus' needs and desires. It was frustrating for all when she couldn't quite understand what Helena meant by a flick of the wrist.

"They look very pretty." Julian stood in the open doorway, his face shining with sweat and his shirt sporting a dark triangle round his neck.

"Thank you," Frances said, reaching for a cup and quickly filling it with water. She handed it to him. "Rebecca doesn't seem so impressed though."

They both turned to the baby who was sucking on one of the curtains that she had managed to pull down from the tabletop.

Julian chuckled as he gently pulled it away. "Actually, I think she must love them if she's willing to put them in her mouth. She's usually pretty picky." He picked his daughter up and tossed her into the air. She squealed with delight.

Julian's voice lowered and he tossed his head towards the staircase. "How is she doing?"

Frances pulled a tight smile and shrugged. "As well as can be expected."

Julian returned Rebecca to her blanket and leaned against the wall. When he spoke, his voice nearly cracked. "How long?"

Frances shrugged again. "It's difficult to say, really. It could be today, or in a week, or maybe even longer. Truth is, I've seen some last only a few days and others take weeks to d--." She caught her breath, but Julian didn't seem to notice.

Julian's eyes eventually drifted over to her. "It's inevitable, Frances. We've all known it."

The bell ran out again. Frances picked up a nearby bowl and a freshly washed linen rag "Just because it is expected, doesn't make it any less difficult. For any of us." With that, she went upstairs.

"I'm empty," Winnie whispered from her bed, where her covers were pulled up right under her chin.

France's bit her lip, trying to hide the smile that usually came with Winnie's little quirky comments. "Is that right?" She responded, tucking Jem into his bed.

"Yes." Winnie nodded her head, her eyes locked on the ceiling and her lips pulled down into a frown.

"Empty of what?"