False Southern Gentility

Christine cleared her throat unsteadily as she held onto the door-frame. "I...I had Elizabeth let me in..." she said as she looked at Mary who stood before Christopher, clad in what had been her old silk-nightgown.

Christopher said nothing, but stared at Christine in stark amazement. "Mary..." he whispered as he took hold of her hand. "tell me that I'm imagining things." he said as Mary looked down at him.

"If you're seeing things, then you and I are both in big trouble...because I see her too." Mary said as she sat down beside Christopher.

Her hand never left his.

"What," Christine said with a smile. "No warm welcomes for me?" she asked with a quiet laugh. Christopher let out a laugh of nervousness and Mary did the same. "May..." she swallowed as she reached into her pocket and withdrew a three inch needle from her pocket. "Give...give me a...a second." she said as she injected the liquid deep into her arm.

Christopher heard her whimper when the needle broke her skin. Ghosts don't whimper, he thought to himself, they can't. But the sound still tore into his heart like a thousand knives.

"What was that?" Mary asked. How her voice was as steady as it was, she did not know, but somehow she was managing to have a conversation with her dead sister. Oh Lord, this made no sense to her at all, and she had a terrible migraine coming on.

"Pain medication." Christine said, her voice as steady as Mary's was. The same as her sister, she had now idea how it was as steady as it was.

Christopher finally found his voice. "What for?" he asked as he looked her straight in the eyes. Those wonderfully red eyes.

"I had my tumor removed just after..." she swallowed as she looked from Mary to Christopher. "May I sit? I'm a bit tired...I hadn't remembered the walkway being as long as it was." she said with a forced laugh; she did not mean for it to be that way.

Christopher nodded as he gestured towards what had once been her vanity bench. Christine walked slowly to the little stool, bent to sit in the midair, stumbled back, gripped onto the vanity it's self and finally sat down shakily.

"I'm...I'm very sorry." Christine said as she closed her eyes and bent her head from one side to the other.

Christopher swallowed as he looked at his not-so-dearly-departed wife. "You...you died. Christine...I was there...I saw you buried...I saw you." he finished as he gripped onto Mary's hand harder. Mary winced but did not dare pull away, for she was as scared as he.

Christine nodded. "Oh, I was. I was deceased for fifty-five minutes. By the time you left...the good doctor was with me...I came back...but I couldn't have you come back...not after everything that I had done to you...so I had him take me out...away from this bedroom and our children. I left so that you and Elizabeth could have a better life." she finished quietly.

"And Claudia." Mary added in a sheepish voice. Christopher suddenly remembered that his present wife was still sitting beside him, and that her fingers were beginning to turn blue from his grip. He released a bit of the tension and she smiled appreciatively.

Christine looked confused. "Claudia?" she asked quietly. For she had never named her daughter.

Mary nodded as she tightened her grip on Christopher's hand. "Yes, she is," she stopped and smiled at Christopher. "What, almost nine now." she said, her eyes showing the gleam of a proud mother.

Christine's heart sank. In the nine years that she had been gone, she had been replaced, and by her own sister. She tried to feel betrayed, but she could find no possible way to feel that specific emotion.

Unless it was towards herself for she was now the betrayer, though she desperately wished it were the other way around.

"Nine...heavens..." Christine whispered as she swallowed uneasily. "Has it really been that long? How old is Elizabeth?" she asked quietly.

This time, Christopher spoke. "Almost twelve. That dashing child had me sign a written contract saying she could be married when she was fifteen, Mary and I might have some--" he stopped. His smile faded from his face.

Suddenly, his life had gone from painful, to complicated.

Christine smiled. "It's alright. You may go on." she laughed, this time it was a real laugh, but her laugh turned into a cough as she sighed easily and rested her hand on her stomach. "I'm terribly sorry about that." she said again.

For a split second, he had heard her laugh. The same laugh that he had loved, the laugh that he had fallen in love with. He almost cried. "Do...how did you go? I mean...go away?" he asked quietly.

Christine smiled easily. "That wasn't very easy to accomplish, to be honest with you, it took some very hard--" she stopped to cough, "slide of the hand." her smile turned to a grimace and then back to a smile. "After you left the room, I was moved away, where, I breathed again, the doctor was there and stood, astonished. I didn't want you and the girls lives to revolve around my illness...so I had the doctor cart me out. I've spent the last nine years in a fairly nice sized house outside of Savannah."

Mary sighed as she rose and released Christopher's hand. She leaned close and whispered. "I'm going to change. You and Christine talk...there is so much...so much that you've missed about her."

After Mary left the room, Christopher's voice finally began to work in more than short bursts. "If you didn't want to worry us then, why have you come back now?" he asked as he stood and rubbed his face.

Christine breathed in deeply as she stood, walked to him, and touched his shoulder. He trembled. "I've heard your voice before." she said quietly.

"And I, yours."he admitted as he turned and touched her face. "Did Elizabeth remember you?" he asked.

Christine shook her head no and closed her eyes as she began to feel dizzy. She stumbled and Christopher's arms wrapped about her firmly. She relaxed into his grip and looked back up at him, his face spinning above hers.

"I've not crumbled," she whispered quietly. "I'm stronger." and she fainted.

Christopher stared at her, pale and quiet. He rested his head on her chest and felt her breathing. He felt tears roll out of his eyes as he boosted her into his arms. "Mary!" he hollered as he ran to the closet.

Mary came out, her hair pinned back and her pale blue and gray dress covering her legs. "Yes?" she asked as she looked from Christopher's face to Christine's body. "I'll send for the doctor." she said as she ran from the room, sprinting down the hallway.

Claudia appeared in the doorway as Christopher laid Christine in the bed. "Who is that?" she asked as she looked over the short woman that laid in her father's bed.

Christopher swallowed as he ran a hand over Christine's warm cheek. "This is your mother." he said quietly. He never thought that he would hear himself say those words about Christine again.

Claudia walked forward and looked down at Christine. "She is very pretty." Claudia said dryly. "Is she dead?" she asked as she looked over the still figure. Christopher stared at her and shook his head no. "Well, then that's a good thing." she said as she raised an eyebrow.

Christopher nodded. "I...I would think so. Please go and tell Mary to hurry." Christopher said as he observed the hurt expression on his daughters face.

"Did she run because of me?" she asked, ignoring what he told her to do.

"What?"

"Did she leave us all because of me?" Claudia repeated. "Was it my fault?" she asked. Her eyes never left Christine's face, just as Christopher tried not to let his.

"Why would you ask that?" he asked quietly.

"Because," she started heavily, "she left when I was born. Did she leave Elizabeth and you and Aunt Mary because of me? Was I the reason that you lived without happiness and Elizabeth without a mother and Aunt Mary without a sister?" her voice did not quiver.

"No," Christopher said as he turned to his daughter and looked her straight in the eyes. "don't you ever let me catch you thinking or saying that again. Do you understand me?" he asked her in a hard voice.

Claudia nodded. "Then why did she leave, if not because of me?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know why--she was sick, and apparently, she still is, but you listen here," he said as he turned her chin up towards his face. "none of anything that has ever happened was your fault. Your mother loved--loves you very much, and I don't want to ever hear you saying anything different."

She shrugged his off as Christine stirred out of her faint. "Good Lord," she said as she looked up at the lace above her head. "where in His name am I?" she asked herself aloud.

"Home." Christopher stared as Christine's head snapped around and looked him in the eyes. She relaxed as he took her hand and kissed the tender palm. "You home." he said quietly.

"Why did you leave?" Claudia asked, demanded, as she looked at her mother with cold, pain-filled eyes.

Christine looked back at Christopher, and then to Claudia. "You're Claudia, aren't you?" she asked as she sat up, slid back down, and then let Christopher support her as she sat up the rest of the way.

Claudia laughed. "What took you so long to recognize?" she asked with a deep sneer. Christine closed her eyes.

Of course she was angry, her mother had left her, it was all Christine's fault, and she did not carry that load lightly. "I did not know what else to do." she answered truthfully.

"That's your answer? Seriously?" she asked with a stark openness that reminded herself of herself. Christine nodded and shrugged weakly. "Did you name me?" she asked slowly. Christine shook her head no. "So you didn't even take the time to name me before you played possum." she snapped harshly.

"Claudia--" Christopher warned as Christine shook her head no.

"Go on." Christine said as she nodded to Claudia. "You have every right to tell me exactly what you think." Claudia looked at her confusedly. "Well? Haven't you anything else left to say?" she asked with an easy jeer.

Claudia licked her teeth as she thought. Tears welled in her eyes and she rubbed them away hard. "Was I so awful that you had to leave?" she questioned as she felt more tears fall. For a nine year old, it wasn't very hard to cry, but for Claudia Rudd, it was the hardest thing to do in the world.

Christine shook her head no as she leaned off of the bed and lifted her daughter heavily into her arms. "No, no angel," she whispered as she rocked the weeping child back and forth, "I was sick...terribly sick and I didn't want to hurt you and your sister...I didn't know how to love anything Claudia...I really didn't...so I ran...I thought that it would be easier to run away than to live...but I want you to know, it wasn't, not in the least."

Claudia buried her head in her mother's hair. "I was so afraid." she whimpered as she cried quietly, gripping onto her mother's chest and pulling her closer to her.

Christopher stood, stunned. He had never seen Claudia cry. Never once, expect when he had let her into Christine's room for the first time. But now...now Christine was back and his little girl was exactly that...a little girl, crying in her mother's lap, being rocked as she had wished to be for so many years.

Mary walked into the room, Doctor Marshland trailing quickly behind her. "Set the child down, Christine." he ordered as he moved Claudia onto the other side of Christine. "You may keep a hand on her, but I would like to examine you." he went to work coolly.

Christopher nodded to Mary as he walked to her and wrapped her close to him. They had become friends, more than friends but much less than lovers. She had become a mother for her children and a healer for him. They were close...but he would never love her like he loved Christine.

"How many injections have you taken today?" he asked Christine as he looked at her badly bruised wrist. "And what was in them?"

Christine looked up above her as she tried to twist her sore wrist from his grip; the doctor did not release. "I have taken twelve injections, and they were full of morphine." she said as she tried to ignore the look that he gave her.

"Twelve injections of morphine today, are you trying to kill yourself?" he asked with a dark look that shone with humor if you took the time to look deep enough.

She laughed happily. "I believe that I have accomplished that once before. Why should I want to try again?" everyone in the room laughed this time.

He shook his head as he ran his finger across the bruises from continued injections daily. "How many I.V's have you had this month?" he asked as he looked at the raised blood vessels in her wrist.

She thought heavily and leaned and kissed Claudia's head. "Run get your sister, darling." she said with a smile. Claudia hung on tighter. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere." at this, Claudia released and ran out of the room, screaming for her sister.

Christine sighed and looked back at the doctor, the smile fading from her face. "I've had a continuous one in for the last two years, every now and then Michael would catch me jerking it out, and put it back in. I jerked it out again this morning." Christopher's' heart sank.

"Who?" Mary asked for Christopher.

Christine smiled and laughed, then coughed and then laid back down, her chest sore and her ribs aching. "Michael Bowles, is my in-home doctor that lives with me. He catches me falling often enough and administers my medications exactly at the same time of day."

A large pounding sound came from the front door. "Oh Lord," Christine said tiredly. "he's followed me here." she said as she closed her eyes. Doctor Marshland felt of her pulse and nodded to Christopher.

"She's fine," he started with quaint smile, "she's just fainted...you know Christine. Now, I think I'll go and bring up the lad that's been taking care of your wife, Christopher." he said as he patted Christopher's shoulder and left the room.

Mary and Christopher stood in silence.