Chapter One, Episode 140 - Windfalls - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

This episode didn't flow as nicely as the last couple of episodes. There was, in fact, dialogue between the two characters (Joey and Digby) in this piece. I answered my own question, from my last episode Review regarding dialogue and could it create difficulty in maintaining a steady flow for the reader. The location also changes, answering another question regarding flow: Digby's office; the upstairs with further suggestions of the outside and in the kitchen. Being alert for the back and forth nature of dialogue and location are important considerations. So for this episode, I cleaned up sentence structure and, later on in the piece, added some detail.

Windfalls

They lay in the grass in the shallow ditch along the side of the road. In the cool evening air, not a leaf stirred. This was Joey’s favourite time of day. The apple blossoms were beautiful in spring, but what his mother could do with apples, even Cook couldn’t beat. Every year, as apples ripened, bushels of them fell outside the orchard. They were known as windfalls. Joey supposed that when the wind blew, that’s when most of the apples graced the ditches beside the orchards. Each year he wandered the ditches beside the orchards to collect windfall apples to take home to his mother. Some had been too damaged by birds or squirrels. He let them lay to be scavenged by the next critter but not again this year. 

One day, as he was heading upstairs to do the cleaning, Mr. Digby stood outside his office, waiting for him. He looked awfully serious, but then he always looked pretty serious. “Joey, can you come see me after you’re done upstairs. I have something I want to discuss with you.” He turned and went into his office, closing the door part way behind him. Throughout the morning, whether Joey was scrubbing the toilet, making the beds, dusting or vacuuming, sixteen year old Joey Tucker tried to think what he might have done. Had he spent too much time out in the garden? Should he have taken the tomatoes to Cook instead of his mother? He knew that he left the upstairs clean and polished each time he was there. That ghost girl, Sarah, hadn’t been bothering him since he asked her to help him move furniture and clean. He was worried.

The week before, Dez had approached Digby and asked if she could hire Joey to pick some of the apples. Rather intimidated by Digby, she could barely get the words out, but she had to do something. Apples were ripe. Because the trees had been watered regularly, the trees were loaded. Samuel told her “there’s more of ‘em on the trees this year, Mz. Dez. Better get some pickers in here.” She remembered Emmie’s suggestion that Digby be approached about hiring Joey and maybe a friend of his, to help with the orchard. She’d never hired pickers before so didn’t know where to start. When she approached Digby, Emmie had already spoken with him. She agreed that Dez could pay Joey and one friend for certain hours in the orchard. Digby spoke with Gerald Winston, the accountant before calling Joey into his office. He never suspected the young man was afraid he was losing his summer job.

Digby was still catching up on work from the weeks he and Martha were away. It seemed as though Miss Emelina was getting him some butlering work. He had phone calls from the chairman of the one of the charity boards Emmie was still involved with, asking if some kind of dinner could be arranged for the board members. Digby had been on the phone most of the morning with arrangements. He spent some of his time talking with Cook about the catering that would be needed. “My goodness, James! Don’t tell me that we’ll be having company out here again.” Cook was almost flustered which was not in her character. So when Joey knocked tentatively on his open door, he just about didn’t hear. Joey was about to knock again, when Digby looked up and smiled. “Come in, come in, Joey. Close the door behind you and sit down. My goodness, you seem a little worried. Is everything all right upstairs?” Joey looked puzzled. Digby pressed on “You know, Sarah? the little ghost?”

“Oh no, sir. Everything’s just fine.” Joey decided to come right out and say what was on his mind, even if he did stammer.  “I’m just worried……..am I not doing my job right? Should I not be taking vegetables to my mother from my….I mean, the Estates…..garden plot?” James, not a man to laugh often, had to suppress a chuckle. “You are doing just fine, Joey. In fact, more than fine. You are a very reliable employee. I wish I’d been that reliable when I was your age. Clean the upstairs to Martha's satisfaction and then to work in the garden as well, making sure you put what ever tools you’ve used away. Of course you are to take the produce you grow to your mother. I understand you are just as diligent with your studies.Your parents must be very proud of you.” Joey was confused. If he was so good, then why did he feel like he was in the principal’s office?

“You’re worried I’m going to fire you, aren’t you, Mr. Tucker? Well, I’m not. In fact, what we need to discuss is whether you want any more work.” Digby was sensitive to Joey’s discomfort so decided that there had been enough small talk. Joey’s face brightened and he stopped stammering. “I’d love more work - is it paid work? What do you need me to do?” Digby thought to himself Good boy. Don’t forget about the dollar. To Joey he said, “Miss Dez needs help in the orchard She needs you to pick apples - have you ever done that before? There are a lot of them. Samuel may be able to estimate how many bushels, but regardless you can take some to your mother because we won’t be able to use them all here. There are frequently apples with minor damage that would just get thrown away. We also send some to the Food Bank and shelters. And you will need help. Do you know anyone else that may want to pick apples for what’s left of the summer and probably into the fall?”

Joey breathed a sigh of relief, thought for a minute and said “Steven - Steven is my best friend. He lives next door and hasn’t had any luck getting work this summer. I think he may jump at this chance. I know a little bit about apple picking, but I don’t know whether Steven does. When do you need to know?”

~~~~~

Joey texted Steven while he was sitting in Digby’s office. Steven got on his bike and came right out to the Estate. The first thing he said was “Do you think I can meet the ghost, Joey?”

“Our greatest fears lie in anticipation.”

~ Honoré de Balzac

Chapter One, Episode 139 - Today or Any Day - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

Minor repairs required for this pleasant episode: some punctuation, spacing. What I see, besides the story, is that this writer has improved. My questions to myself:  'Is it because I focussed on a specific character? Are episodes with a lot of dialogue and relational stories more disjointed and require more concentration? Things to be alert for.

Today or Any Day

Some people see a lot of things happen and keep their silence. Others see just what is passing in front of the eyes or beside their ears and decide for themselves where to keep silent or not. Gossip or not. Samuel Forrester kept himself to himself. He did like to talk and tell stories but he was most comfortable when he was planting, weeding or harvesting. Even turning the soil in the spring and fall to ready the ground for growth or for rest did his heart good. So when he did see something, like an engaged couple in argument; or when he heard something, like his boss raising a suspicious question from the dark, he kept it to himself. It was more important to him to hear the bushy heather plants humming with bees or the steady thrum and buzz of a hummingbird seeking nectar from the brilliant red trumpet flowers that grew in the corners of his garden. He loved the tall stately sunflowers showing off for the bees. He knew in the fall and winter they granted their seeds for over wintering songbirds. Samuel wasn’t much for cut flowers, only flowers that attracted the bees, hummingbirds and butterflies. Butterflies were a fascination for him. They loved all the flowers but ones they seemed to love the best were the daisies. Elizabeth knew the names of all the flowers around the garden - crocosmia, clematis and coreopsis, daffodils and heather. Sometimes of an evening, Samuel and Elizabeth would walk down by the stream where the willows hung into the water. She could name all the plants and find the tiniest of flowers in among the ferns.

So Samuel had no need of talking about what he had heard people say or what he had seen them do. If anyone had asked him, and some did, he’d just say ‘None of my business and don’t think it belongs to anyone else.’ Then he would point out his best producing tomato plant or the biggest acorn squash in the garden. Or he’d tell the story of his daddy catching him about to carve his initials in the apple tree. Once he started on that story, he’d go on to tell how ‘Elizabeth’s already put up 24 jars of apple sauce from them early summer apples’. And he’d tell how he heard the pickers calling out to one another that ‘this tree's done’ or ‘I’m starting on the next row.’ That would lead him into all the tomatoes Elizabeth’d be canning once they started coming on strong. “Did you know that those two sisters have a good bunch of what comes off this garden and orchard go into town? Food Bank needs all kinds of food  - people are hungry and not so well off in this time of sickness. Some of the care homes too if we find out about it.”

So Samuel had no need of gossiping. There were times that he'd think about things that had happened and things he had heard and wonder. But to himself he just said ‘none of my business - today or any day,’

“We should have great peace if we did not 

busy ourselves with what others say and do.”

~ Thomas a Kempis

Chapter One, Episode 138 - A Valued Core - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

Stray comma's removed, tightening up wordiness, a few sentences restructured. A short piece, this episode was a pleasant read. 

A Valued Core

There was no reason for it. Emelina's thoughts went round and round. She had surprised herself when she told Dez about her long lost child. She was calm, as though talking about someone else. Some young girl who had little knowledge of the world and babies. A young girl who kept her secret long past her youth. Looking at herself in her mirror, she touched the stray strands of gray in her hair - forty seven is too young for gray hair. She could be a grandmother now. Had she ever wanted any of that or was she trapped in the old world of women, marriage and children - and career. For years she had felt guilty about never telling Michael that they had a child. When he died all of her guilt exploded into shame. When she and Dez had gone walking in the orchard, she expected that in the telling, she would break down sobbing - or some other great drama. That had always been her norm. What do the psychiatrists call it - ‘hyper reactive behaviour’? Her emotions were like leaves in a windstorm. She did have a tear, but that was about all. Telling Dez about that whole mess was like braving the windstorm and watching all the leaves fly away. 

Emmie slept well that night. On Monday morning, she and her sister barely saw each other before Dez returned to Hartley. When Brigitte came in, she said she had just seen her. “She was really chatty and cheerful - more than usual.” Emmie poured coffee for them both while Brigitte hung up her jacket. Over her shoulder she said “She’s just had some news and is very excited by it.” Then she changed the subject to Brigitte’s weekend. “How lovely, Brigitte.You deserved a nice weekend.” Emelina told her about the gargoyles and cornerstones that she and Dez had found on their weekend. Later, when Brigitte was on the phone making a couple of appointments, she replied to a text from Dez. Full of little excited emoticons, Dez said she would support Emmie in any way she could. Emmie replied Slow down Dez. I’m not going to be looking for her. She has a family, another life and this pandemic has already upset all of our lives. Let’s just let her be. Emmie called Dez later that evening. After thinking about it all day and throughout her short work shift, Dez could see the wisdom of her sister’s decision. When Emmie called, they both had their pyjamas on and a cup on hot tea. “Now that we’re both comfortable, Dez, let’s not have any talk about grief or how we don’t have any more family than the two of us.” Dez seconded her sister’s motion with little hesitation. She added “We are our own family, Em.” Even though these two sisters had been together for an entire weekend, they talked for over an hour about whatever came up.

“Sticking with your family is what makes it a family.”

~ Mitch Albom, For One More Day

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

Chapter One, Episode 136 - Private Lives - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update:

As in yesterday's episode, no fiddling with words involved. Misplaced punctuation, a few duplicate words, and maybe a word or two added were all the revision that was required.

Private Lives

Samuel Forrester was a man of few words. His thoughts however were full of words, ideas, and his own philosophy on practically everything he came across. Samuel’s philosophy came from the very land he worked, the plants he grew and the birds that greeted him each morning. The cycles of the sun and the moon. In Samuel’s words ? “The natural world. Pay attention to what’s under your two feet, in front of your eyes and the sky overhead - cloudy or clear. That’s all there is to it.” With those words, he would return to his work, or if the workday was over, he’d light his pipe and go back to his reading. Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring was one of his favourite books. An old paper back, yellowed with age. The spine broken and creased, loose pages in danger of falling out, bound with an elastic band. If Samuel ever watched TV, it would be any documentary about the environment.

Samuel hadn’t thought much of seeing the girls go out to the orchard that evening. He did think of Miss Emmie and Miss Dez as girls, even though he knew better. He had been locking up the toolshed when they waved to him as they passed, but he was more interested in getting home. Home to light his fireplace and make a good strong cup of tea. When he did give it some thought, he wondered at the sisters going to the orchard when the darkening was setting in. They wouldn’t be able to get any work done if that was what they were up to. Well, that was their business, so he stored his concern in the back of his mind. He was also ready for a pipe. He kept the old corncob pipe in his shirt pocket and only took it out three times a day. Once in the morning after getting up, just after lunch with Elizabeth and once in the evening. 

Elizabeth. Now there was a good woman. She had been a good friend  to him for many years. No demands on his time and just a little bit of bossy when he didn’t eat right or keep himself clean and tidy and up to Elizabeth’s standards, he heard about it. If there was a button off his shirt, she noticed.When she did his laundry, she'd snag that shirt and wouldn’t give it back until she had fixed it. If his hair was getting too shaggy, she’d send him off to the barber. Didn’t matter if he was in the middle of getting some work done. Yep, she was a good woman and a better friend.

~~~~~

When Samuel was about 20 or 21 years old, he decided he was never getting married. Thirty years on, he had kept to that promise. Oh, he had some pretty temptations in the past and more than once. As soon as he heard the words ‘let’s settle down’ he just got up and walked out. After a while there were no more women knockin’ at his door. Then he took on the job his daddy was leaving. He heard all the stories of the walk his daddy and his grandpappy had to take all the way to and from town. If they were lucky, they could catch a ride back home with a delivery man. When the little house on the far back of the property came open, Mr. Beaufort asked him if he’d like to live there. “Rent free as part of your wages.” Samuel thought long and hard for, oh, about four minutes, stuck his hand out to Mr. Beaufort and said, “that would suit me just fine, sir. A place to hang my hat and park my pick-up.” When old Mr. Beaufort died, he put it in his will that as long as Samuel worked for the estate, he’d always have that little house rent free as part of his wages. Samuel could fix it up any way he wanted. Mostly he just kept it in good repair - and clean and tidy for when Elizabeth came for supper.

Samuel had been thinking about all these things while he was making his tea. He took off his boots and put on the slippers Elizabeth bought for him. He wasn’t much for slippers but they were a Christmas gift so he wore them. They did keep his feet nice and warm of an evening. About that time, Samuel looked up and out the window. It’s gettin’ dark out there. I wonder if those two girls are alright. He walked over to the door, set his slippers aside and put his boots back on. Are they goin’ to find their way back up to the house in this dark? Samuel knew that the dark of the island was unlike any dark unless the moon was full. No moon tonight. Guess I’d better check on those two girls and stretch my legs. As Samuel approached the orchard, he was about to call out when he heard Dez and Emmie talking pretty seriously. All he could hear was Mz. Beaufort saying “...................she will be about 27 years old. Where is she now? Do I look for her?”

Samuel stopped dead and decided to turn back. He didn’t know what it meant but he didn’t want to know. It’s none of my business. He went into his house, turned his outside light off and closed up for the night.

“Who are you? Why do you hide in the darkness 

and listen to my private thoughts?”

~ William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Chapter One, Episode 135 - Blank Pages - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

I was tempted to not touch anything for this Episode. Reading and reviewing it carefully more than once, I did find a misplaced comma and an unnecessary word. There were other minor changes but more than once I said out loud to myself: "Don't fiddle!" When does any artist or writer know when to stop finding things to fix? I handled this episode very carefully. 

Blank Pages

When any relationship is put on hold for years, picking up where you left off is all that can be done. The intervening years are like the blank pages missed in a journal. It’s a gap that can’t be explained to anyone. The only things that can be explained are the superficial relating of events. Anything too painful is left out, ignored and hopefully lost in time. That evening, at the end of supper, Dez had told Emmie her dark, painful secret. One she had even kept from herself. But that terrible day, the tragic death of her dearest friend, stayed on, like faded wallpaper in her mind. 

~~~~~

Dez and Emmie were restless, needing to shake off the tension that crowded around them. Clearing up the dishes, tidying the living room, straightening the curtains….they were running out of things to keep them busy. Dez asked “Do you know when Martha and Digby will be back?” Emmie replied without thought “I think this week. Have you seen Matt lately?” Dez said “No. He said he’d call me sometime this week. Have you heard from Jeremy?” Emmie hesitated then said “He’s on night shifts so I won’t hear from him til next week.”  There was a long pause. Emmie started to say something then stopped. She plumped up the pillows on the sofa for the fourth time in the previous hour. She picked one up and held it to her. “Dez. I have to tell you something.” She placed the pillow just so on the sofa. “But we have to go for a walk. Out to the orchard where there’s no one around.” She went to the front hall closet for her jacket. “Hold on, Emmie. Wait a minute. You can’t just say something like that and then say we have to go for a walk.” She grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair she had dropped it on. “I have to put my shoes on, Emmie. You go ahead and I’ll catch up.” Emmie stopped, in quiet voice she said “No, that’s ok. I’ll wait.”

~~~~~

On their way past the garden, the sisters waved at Samuel. He was just locking up the tool shed. He waved back and headed home. “Ok, Em, what is it you want to tell me?”

Emmie filled her lungs with the cool early evening air, then let it out slowly. “Dez, you shared your dark secret with me. It must have been horrible for you the day your friend died. It may be too soon to tell you my secret, but I need to share it with you. You’ve been right. Michael’s death was very hard on me, but there’s a part of it that no one else knows about.” Dez slowed her walk. “This sounds serious, Em. What could be worse than losing the love of your life?” Emelina stopped and turned to face Dez. “Losing the father of your child - the child that neither of us ever knew.” Dez was stunned. “What? When?”

“Let’s keep walking. I was sixteen and Michael was eighteen. We both had other plans for our lives. Getting married and raising a family didn’t fit with them. We were both going off to separate universities. Michael right away. I had to finish high school before going to a completely different university. We didn’t really think our relationship was anything more than a high school fling.” She hesitated. “Remember what mom would tell us… “It only takes one time, girls.”  Well, she was absolutely correct. By the time I knew I was pregnant, Michael and I had broken up. He was gone to University in Alberta and already had a girlfriend. The only person I could tell was mom.”

Dez wished they were somewhere that she could sit down - a tree stump, a rock, anything. Emmie was a mother!? That made her an aunt! “But Emmie, how could I not have known. We shared the same room the whole time we were kids. Why didn’t mom tell me?”  Emmie put her arm around Dez. “Because I told her not to tell you. I had tried to call Michael, but he never returned my calls. She was the only one I could trust. And besides that, you and I were fighting about some stupid thing.” Dez laughed. “We were always fighting about some stupid thing. I don’t think we really liked each other when we were teenagers. Did dad know?” Emmie stopped and looked up in her apple trees. In the dusk, she could see apples but couldn’t tell if they were ripe to pick. “I’m sure he knew, but mom promised me that she wouldn't tell anyone else, but she can't have kept it from dad.” Dez's curiosity was almost overwhelming. “So what happened? Did you want to keep the baby?” Emmie looked almost horrified. “Of course not. I was only sixteen. And like I said I had plans that didn’t include a baby. Michael didn’t know and would never have to know.” Dez interrupted “But I never even saw a......what do they call it now......a bump? You were so skinny, I had to have noticed something.” 

Emmie pushed on. “Dez, don’t you remember? I went away for six months on a ‘student exchange’ that fall before school started. Really all I did was go to mom’s hometown on the mainland to Aunt Leila's. I went to school there and had my baby. She was adopted before she was even born, but I did get a chance to see her and hold her. Oh, Dez if I could have changed my mind right then I would have. She was so precious. Soft and beautiful.” A tear escaped from Emmie’s eye. She wiped it away with the back of her hand. 

“But where does Michael come into all of this?” Dez could barely contain herself. Emmie smiled at this next frame of memory.“Two years later, I graduated from high school. Michael was home for a couple of weeks and called me up. I acted very annoyed with him. ‘How dare you call me when you have a girlfriend in another city.’ But I was so, so glad to hear his voice. He came to the prom with me. He was so handsome….more handsome than ever. I don’t know if I even thought about our baby that weekend. We were apart again for another two years while he finished his degree. I had stayed on the Island for university. One evening, mid semester, he came and found me in my dorm and proposed! I’m not going to fill in all the gaps, only to say that our teenage fling had matured. I never did find the right time to tell him about our daughter. And then he was gone. That's the part of my grief that I could never share with anyone. Now she will be about 27 years old. Where is she now? Do I look for her? When you and I started talking about what our legacy would be, I started thinking of her again.”  Emmie had gone through a roller coaster of emotions telling Dez her story, filling in the blank pages from her memory. Dez and Emmie had finally found each other.

“Love each other dearly always. There is scarcely anything 

else in the world but that: to love one another.”

~ Victor Hugo

Chapter One, Episode 134 - Spillage - Situationally Theirs

Review, Revision, Edit and Update

Typos and misspellings! This is the first episode in a long time for more than one or two. Easy peasy.

However, the 'pronoun overuse' issue was still present. Dialogue seems to be a bit more tricky in sorting that out. Not sure I have that down yet, but I'll keep working on it.

This revision also involved the restructuring and rearranging of sentences, for the most part further in the episode for clarity's sake.

I must have been pretty sleepy when I wrote this one.

Spillage

But where would they go from there? Desperanza Eliot had been single all of her life. Her sister, Emelina Beaufort was widowed. Neither sister had children. Should anything happen to either one, what would be their legacy? The sisters thought often about these things, but never shared their thoughts with one another. The generosity and kindness of the staff helped to foster the illusion that they were part of a family. Yet they were their only family. Too serious for their weekends off from the busyness of the Beaufort Estate seldom involved such serious topics. Seeing the architecture of the old mansion, then reading Amelia Beaufort’s diary had stirred privately held thoughts about their own mortality.

~~~~~

Supper was in the upstairs dining room. Cook had sent a simple supper of chili, fresh baked sourdough bread and a green salad up to them on the dumbwaiter. Eating in silence, only the scrape of spoons against pottery and the crunch of the crusty bread were heard. Emmie put her spoon down, leaned on her elbows and surveyed the dining room and out the window to the garden and orchard, ripening in the summer sun. Dez took another slice of bread and buttered it, wiping clean her empty chili bowl. Noticing how pensive her sister had become, she asked if there was anything wrong. Emmie broke their long held silence about their family, their legacy of only themselves. “Dez, you and I have no families to pass on our own histories. Have you ever thought about that?”  

Dez didn’t like to hear even a suggestion of life ending. She did carried an uncomfortable secret, her grief about holding a dying friend in her arms. That she had felt the last drops of life drain away and could do nothing about it. Emmie stirred all of the pain up again. Dez didn’t stay in any one relationship for long because of the grief. She made the choice to end relationships, never allowing death, or any other circumstance, to make such choices for her. And she did not want to bring children into the world - to be responsible for their joys, but especially for their hurts. She told her sister each detail of tragedy in a rush of words that tumbled over each other disturbing the rockwall in her heart. “Oh, Dez. I didn’t know.” Emmie felt so very sorry for her unintended insensitivity. She got up from her chair and went to her sister, but didn’t really know how to comfort her. Dez looked up at Emmie, tears in her eyes.  “How could you know, Em? Do you know why I left Dad’s funeral so suddenly? It probably looked like I was being rude. I suppose I was, but it was just after that horrendous death of my friend. Then we didn’t see each other for years. I really thought it was all buried. The more I'm out here with you, so much has resurfaced. Kind Martha and James getting married. Hearing Giles talk so lovingly about his kids. Joey being out here, especially when I see him talking so earnestly to Samuel. Most of all, it is seeing you and Jeremy together so close and comfortable with each other. I just thought my anxiety was all about Covid19 and being afraid of the virus.” Emmie brought a box of tissues to the table and sat by her sister. “Here, Dez. Blow your nose. Here’s a drink of water.” She did as she was told, dropping the nasty tissue in the waste basket proffered. “Here’s the hand sanitizer. Do we need to change the subject?” Emmie didn’t want their weekend to end on this very heavy note, but Dez continued “Yes, I’ve been afraid of catching and spreading the virus. I’ve had to stop listening to so many news reports. But I've also been concerned for you. Just by listening to Cook and Martha, it was hard on you when Michael died and you………” Emmie shook her head and cut her sister off mid sentence. “I was just being selfish, Dez.” Dez disagreed and took it a little further “Maybe you were, maybe you weren’t. What I’ve heard around here it went much deeper than selfish.The selfish act just made it easier to stay in your own grief and keep everyone away.” A smile crept over Dez's face. “I do remember that same selfish act when we were kids whenever you were scared or hurt.” Emmie laugh for the first time that evening. “Ok. So we’ve both got issues, but what does that have to do with today?” Her tears dried, Dez finished eating her chili soaked bread. Swallowing another drink of water she said “I’m glad I got all that mess off my chest. I certainly wasn’t planning on it. You’re a good sister to listen to it all - and make sure I blew my nose. But, if you’re asking 'what are we going to leave on this earth'? I really don’t know. I just know that I don’t want it all to be for nothing.”

~~~~~

Emmie brought their dessert  over from the dumbwaiter. “Apple crumble and ice cream. Dez, in answer to your question, I know I want something more and am not sure what that more is. For certain, I don’t want to leave this good house to the vagaries of time or real estate developers.” Dez laughed at her sister’s little joke. “I don’t believe it, Em. You actually have a sense of humour! To be serious though how can we make such changes?”

“To be a person is to have a story to tell.”

~ Isak Dinesen