Chapter One, Episode 137 - Brain Waves - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

This episode seemed a bit wordy in parts - not an unusual problem for this writer. There were some sentences tightened up, misplaced punctuation fixed, but in general  a fairly good read. 

Brain Waves

Everyone has a past. Most of it ordinary, like learning to brush your teeth or using a spoon. Momentous at the time, but soon to become ordinary. Watching the gritty determination on a child’s face when faced with the ginormous task of tying an uncooperative shoe lace can be almost heart wrenching. The reflexive impulse to reach out and help is almost overpowering. But to see the pride on the same child’s face when the task has been accomplished is a reward that cannot be matched. Learning that there is a child, now a young woman, in the universe who is part of her sister’s past had upended Dez’s life. Emmie had to have worried that memory every day for almost twenty-seven years with no one to tell. Dez just learned about it. By her own admission, Emmie felt she had no one to talk to about it except for Michael, but ‘there was never the right time’. She had her life before and her life after. Separate and distinct except for Michael. Except for her silence. Dez now understood, as much as possible, the depth of Emelina's’s grief since Michael's passing five years ago.

~~~~~

Samuel Forrester, who had been concerned about the sisters out in the orchard late in the evening, would have been pleased to know they had returned safely to the Estate house. The mansion’s lights showed them their direction. Emmie carried a tiny flashlight that barely showed their next step. To look behind into the wall of the night's blackness, they could only see a pinpoint of light from Samuel’s cabin. They walked carefully, their shoes and hems of their jeans soaked with late night dew on the heavy grass. In the house, they made hot chocolate and took it upstairs. There was no more talk of Emmie’s past; Dez had too many questions that her sister probably couldn’t answer. She said ‘good night', chose a random book from one of the shelves and went to her room with her hot chocolate. Emelina retreated to her room and closed the door firmly.

~~~~~

Dez was returning to Hartley Monday morning to get ready for the short afternoon shift Mr. Jorgenssen had for her. Stepping out into the brilliant sunshine, she inhaled deeply of the cool morning air, just as Brigitte Smithson, her motorcycle announcing her, arrived. Brigitte, Personal Secretary to Emelina Beaufort, she had come in early so she could sit in the kitchen and have coffee with Cook, hoping that Martha was back soon. Always part of their coffee time, she really missed Martha. 

Brigitte was twenty nine years old. After Emmie’s revelation of the night before, Dez looked at Brigitte with a very new perspective. Thoughts tripped over themselves in Dez’s mind No She couldn’t be Emmie’s child. First of all she is older by two years and, secondly, she has red hair. None of us in our family have red hair. At least not that I know of.  We didn’t really know any of mom or dad’s families that well. Except for Auntie Leila and Grandma and Grandpa Eliot. Of course I know it can’t be Brigitte. That would just be too weird. Could I even relate to a niece when we’ve never been around each other ever. Would she even want to know about me? Has her family ever told her she’s adopted? What if she’s married and has kids of her own? Dez’s mind flipped through reflections and questions like shuffling a deck of cards. Her life was going to be just her. Alone. Then it was her and Emmie after her sister rescued her. When pandemic isolation ended for everyone, a kind of family blossomed on the Estate. Dez became a part of them, even though she felt the distance of not belonging. Emmie was her only real family until this niece came along. That’s if she was even still alive. But she should be, shouldn’t she? She was only twenty seven. Was she more like Michael Beaufort’s family? Was she even a nice person?

Brigitte parked her heavy bike, swung off of it easily and propped it on its kick stand. Taking her helmet off, she shook out her long red hair. Dez smiled at her “Good morning, Brigitte! You’re bright and early this morning. I think Emmie’s still upstairs but should be down fairly soon.” Brigitte was glad to see Dez, but was surprised at the brightness of her greeting. “Good morning, Miss Dez. Are you coming or going?” Dez kept smiling. “I’ve been out here all weekend. On my way back to the city this morning. Working this afternoon.” Brigitte was starting to feel uncomfortable with  Dez’s smiling and overly cheerful demeanour. “Drive safely then. Excuse me, Miss Dez. I’ll just slip past you into the house. Have a good day.” And Brigitte disappeared inside. Dez had followed her with her eyes until the door closed. Whistling tunelessly, Dez picked up her back pack and went to her car. She drove off, wondering what the week would bring for her sister.

“Fairy Tales always have a happy ending.’ That depends….

on whether you are Rumpelstiltskin or the Queen.’

~ Jane Yolen, Briar Rose