False Southern Gentility

Christine ran her hand along Christopher's chest, listening for his old tell-tale sign of his being fully asleep. She couldn't say what she was thinking if he wasn't. There, she thought as she heard his gently snoring, there it is. She couldn't help but giggle a little. "I love you." she said softly.

She swallowed as she let the words stand in the silence. If he had been awake, he would have laughed at what she had said, even though he had told her the same thing at once, he would have laughed at her, the same mocking laugh that he always seemed to find at the most inappropriate moments.

She couldn't let him know, not even for a moment. She had to many things that people could use against her. The plantation, her family, her numerous husbands, and now, more than ever, they could use her children against her.

Christopher struggled with his thoughts as he fought to keep his eyes closed. If he opened them now, she would only deny it, say he had been dreaming despite how many times he would tell her that he was truly awake. He knew her that well, he knew every hair on the back of her head, right down to the freckle on the bottom of her right foot.

"Christine?" Christopher asked as he faked a yawn while rolling over and pulling her close to him. "Are you alright, you didn't have another nightmare, did you?" he asked as he kissed her temple.

"Oh no," she said as she nuzzled the back of her head into the eve of his neck. "nothing like that. I was just lying here thinking about you and I." she said as she closed her eyes in leisure.

"Oh?" he asked quietly. "And what glorious conclusion have you come to?" he asked with a laugh just below the surface in his voice.

"I have reached the point to here I believe you and I are fine the way we are. Why should we start trying to force emotions that aren't really there?" Christopher's silence was her only answer, so she continued. "We make a good pair as we are, we live together and we..." she blushed, "fulfill each others purpose as husband and wife, why start adding things we both know aren't there?"

Christopher sighed, his hot breath falling onto the back of her neck. Christine felt goosebumps arise and she bit into her lip. "I believe that you're right, Christine." Her shock was so much that her body laid there, still and stiff. "Adding so-called emotions that aren't there only makes a mess of things. Unless those emotions are really there?" he held his breath, waiting for her reply.

"I agree with you." she said as she swallowed all of her emotions at once, forcing herself to become cold. Like the winter, snapping hard and quick. "We are man and wife, as I believe we will stay." he said nothing, and so she continued with her not-so-well thought out speech. "We seem to fit each others..." she blushed, "each others needs and purposes...so why add things that needn't be said?"

Christopher swallowed as he brought her close to him, grasping her to him as if she would get loose and run away from him. "You're right, we serve our purposes just fine, and we always will. Now," he said as he cleared his throat and rolled her over to face him, "if you don't mind, I'd like to serve mine and your...er...purposes."

Christine smiled, but inside of her heart, she was dying. He hadn't meant what he had said before, no matter if she had said it back to him...so what if he hadn't heard her when she said it, wasn't their daughter proof enough of her love?

If he didn't want to love her, she didn't need him to. She hadn't ever needed love before, she shouldn't start pretending that she needed it now.

As his lips fell on her mouth, neck, and chest, she suddenly realized that she was crying, weak tears of painful emotion slipping out of her eyes. When Christopher looked back up at her, the tears running over her face and down onto her pillowcase, and all he could think to do was hold her.

"Don't cry, Christine." he cooed as he brought her to his chest in a tight embrace. "Please, Christine, please don't cry." he said as he closed his eyes and tucked her head beneath his chin.

"I'm not crying you old fool," she lied as her voice caught as she clung close to him. "I don't cry." and with those words, she let herself crumble, she let herself fall to pieces like she wanted to do for so many years.

"You can crumble, Christine, I'm here to catch you." he said as he pulled the blankets up to her chin and cradled her close to him as he had done with their daughter when she was a little girl who had awoken from her own nightmares.

Christopher knew that right now, Christine was waking up from her own nightmare now. She had lived in it for so many years, fumbling around in the dark, falling, ripping up her knees and clawing at God for things she didn't know she felt anymore.

So for tonight, for this moment in time, he would hold her close and fight away her demons as no one else had. Tonight he would keep her so close to him that the both of them could feel the other breathing.

As Christine rolled over in the morning light, her hand fell on the empty place where Christopher should have been. "Christopher," she asked quietly at first, but when no reply came, she was frantic. "Christopher, Christopher where are you!?" she screamed as she backed up to the tall headboard and wrapped her hands around her silk covered knees; and cried.

"Christine, Christine what is it?" Christopher asked in a frantic voice as he ran into the room, staring at her for a moment and then taking her to his chest in one swift movement. "What is it, darling, what is it?" he asked as he kissed the top of her head.

"Nothing." she said as she pulled her head away and wiped off her face. "Nothing is wrong, why would you think there was?" she asked as she smoothed out of hair and climbed out of the bed. "Have you seen my hairbrush, my hair is just in tatters." she said, overly calm for the moment.

Christopher sighed as he slid off of the side of the bed. "No, I think you might have left it packed up with all of your other things." he said as in an overly dull voice.

"Well," Christine said as she sat down in-front of the tall Victorian mirror and turned her head left and right, working to see the appearance of any wrinkle in sight. She found none, which pleased her. "aren't we the grouch this morning."

Christopher ran his hands through his slicked back, black hair. "No, I'm just tired, our little conversation last night tired me out." he smiled victoriously, for he knew Christine would not want to embark on her own personal faults that were exposed the night before.

"Well then." Christine's response was short and sweet, so different from her tears had been the night before. Those tears were long and bitter.

"Yes," Christopher said as he opened up the door that led to the nursery, "well then." was the last thing he said as he walked down the small passage way and opened the door; Christine crept to the door-frame quietly, watching Christopher pull the blankets off of the yawning figure.

"Time to get up, Elizabeth." Christopher said as Elizabeth rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in the pillow, shaking her head no. "Yes, we've got hot dumplings, and sausage and all sorts of things downstairs in the dining-room.

Elizabeth moved her head to one side where only one of her bright green eyes were showing. "Dumplins?" she asked as Christopher nodded.

"Yes, plenty of Dumplings for my Dumpling." he said with a smile as he slid his arms beneath the still yawning Elizabeth and brought her to his chest as he sat down in the rocker across the room. "Do you want to hear a song?" he asked her from above her head; Christine listened harder.

Christine saw Elizabeth shrug. "Yes." she said as she rubbed her eyes and yawned sleepily on Christopher's chest.

If he was trying to wake her up, he sure was doing a Hell of a bad time at it.

"Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me. Starlight and drew-drops are waiting for thee. Sounds of the rude world heard in the day, loved by the moonlight have all passed away." Christopher sang in his deep, soprano like voice.

Christine put her hand over her mouth as she sat herself down on the small stool that sat beside the door. Christopher had once sung that to her, his voice flowing lightly on her eardrums, and now, now that voice was coating the ears of her daughter.

"Alright, breakfast now." Christopher said as Christine heard the quiet creak of the chair as he stood; though she heard it, she paid him no heed. "Christine, are you alright? You're looking rather pale." he said, his voice drenched with something that Christine could not understand at the moment.

"I'm..." she started as she felt a tear wet her hand. "I'm fine." she said as she pushed her hand up towards the tops of her eyebrows, trying to hide that she was, in-fact, crying.

Christine heard the small patter of two little feet as Christopher sat Elizabeth onto the floor. He put his hand to her forehead. "You feel like you might have a fever, come, get back into bed, I'll send for the doctor."

Christine smacked his hand away from her forehead. "I'm just fine, as I have said twice now, and furthermore, I don't like being treated like a child." she said as she stood up; her head spun, and she grasped at the chair. She sat back down, unsteadily.

"Mhmm." Christopher said as he patted Elizabeth on the head. "Elizabeth, tell cook that daddy said to give you your dumplings." with this news, Elizabeth skidded out of the room, a bright smile pasted onto her face.

"You," Christopher said as he pointed to Christine who had her head down and was holding her breath so that it didn't seem to come in rapid gasps as it wanted to. "you are stubborn. Now, tell me the truth, how is your head feeling?"

Christine swallowed. "Not any worse than that Yankees did." she whispered under her breath.

"What?" he asked, having missed what she had said.

"Nothing." she replied as she gritted her teeth together painfully. "My head is fine, I'm just famished is all. You should be good bed-mates with the feeling." Christopher said nothing, but his devilish smile said it all.

"Liar, your not any more hungry than I am, your sick, and you and I both know it." Christopher's voice was firm and straight forward, and it's tone tolerated no resistance.

"So what if I'm sick, why should you care?" she asked as she rolled her eyes lazily, at first it was out of irritation, but it soon turned to something more.

"Christine," Christopher said as he snapped in-front of her face. "look me straight in the eyes and then you tell me that you're alright."

Christine swallowed and closed her eyes, she looked back up at him quickly, trying to decipher which of the two pairs of eyes she saw was the one that were supposed to be there. "I'm just..." her speech slurred as she clamped her eyes shut and then opened them again. "I am just fine, tha--" she swallowed again. "thank you for asking though."

Christopher licked his teeth through furrowed lips. "Yes, I hear what you're saying, and your very welcome; but I'm not inclined in the least to believe even one of your lies. If I hadn't known you any better, I would think you a fool, but," he sighed, "sadly, I do know you, and I'm married to you, and with those two things in my hands, I AM inclined to believe you won't do anything you're told."

Christine went to speak but Christopher raised his hand for silence. "Now, I want you to get laced up, pantaloons and everything else I know you wrap around those legs and waist. Then, I expect to see you sitting at our table, hair fixed, cheeks red, and eyes wide. Understand?" he asked expectantly.

Christine glared at him as she raised her eyebrows. "Who are you," she asked, her voice rising. "to tell me what I shall and shall not do. I'm not some simple-minded child, Christopher. I am, and always have been, believe it or not, sane."

Christopher glared right back. "What makes me think, is exactly this, Christine." he said so calmly that Christine didn't even expect it when he grasped Christine by the arm and jerked her to where her feet dangled a few inches above the carpet. "Stand, go on, try and stand, I want to see it." he said as he sat her feet on the ground and gave her a small push on the back.

"I...I will." she said as she looked down at her feet and felt her knees wobble in the most unseemly fashion as she began to fall, crumble towards the ground. Suddenly, before Christine had a chance to fall more than a few seconds before Christopher had her by her arm and lifted her up again.

"That's why," Christopher said quietly next to her ear, "that's why I can order you around like a simple-minded child." he kissed her cheek as she twisted her head away from him. "What, so now you don't even want to look at me, you don't want anything to do with me anymore, do you? I know you, I know you like the back of my hand, and I'm not going to let you throw me away." he pulled her close to him and pressed his mouth hard against hers.

"Get off of me!" she yelled weakly as she pressed her hands against his shoulders, and then she gave up, letting him take her away in a rush.

She loved getting taken away in rushes, when it was by Christopher, when he was the one that was driving the waves. Oh, but when he let her go, then the memories would come back, and she hated the memories.

When his arms weren't around her, when his body wasn't within reaching distance, then she could see the Yankees face, hear his voice; see her mother, breathe in her scent as she looked over her corpse, she was alone, and she knew it.

And now she was alone again, her breath began to come slower as he looked down at her. "You can't let go of me, Christine, you can't let go of me unless I get good and ready to let you go."

Christine decided to let go, physically, even if it left her alone with her memories, she had to let go for fear of losing herself all over again, for fear of getting attached, attachment was a downfall, and she knew that.

"I'll let go when I please.." she said as she moved her hands off of his shoulders and walked, unsteadily, to her closet, shutting the world and Christopher out behind the door.