Madeline

Chapter 34

Anne and the others returned and things got back to normal. Or almost. Rebecca showed no signs of wanting to leave and Anne, Michael, and I were in no hurry to see her go. Actually, I wasn't sure who wanted her to stay the most.

Michael and Rebecca had been good company in those days before Anne returned. They kept me occupied and didn't let me mope. Rebecca even took it upon herself to make me eat. So much that I wondered if she didn't have orders from Anne because she certainly would have made her proud. Initially I tried to get away with pushing food around my plate as I'd done before, but she squashed that plan first thing. She went as far as threatening to force feed me if I didn't eat voluntarily. Considering that she'd been my maid for several months, she was well aware of how much I normally ate, so I couldn't get away with anything.

When Anne returned, Rebecca eyed me during that first meal, daring me to try it again, but I didn't bother. After I actually ate a few solid meals, I noticed that I felt better afterward. I guess I'd just stopped differentiating where the pain and discomfort and unsettled feelings were actually coming from. Reed overshadowed everything else in my mind, so a little gnawing in my stomach didn't bother me. Not enough to take an interest in making it stop anyway. But now I was starting to feel some motivation. At least when it came to eating. Anne seemed pleased with my compliance and I could tell she was starting to like Rebecca as much as Michael and I did.

The only thing that was hard to take was seeing how close Michael and Rebecca were becoming. I honestly couldn't be happier for them and I loved thinking that I brought them together. It just hurt to actually witness while my wounds were still so raw.

They could tell, so they tried to be more discrete. They didn't isolate themselves in the house or show any overt signs of affection or anything, but it was those subtle things that really got me. The special smiles and secretive glances, and the way they'd just naturally orient themselves toward each other. Things that were impossible to hide and that attested to their closeness. Things I'd shared with Reed and had barely thought about at the time.

Not wanting them to feel like they needed to censor their behavior, I took to sitting outside a lot. To keep them from offering to come with me, I brought my sketch book and claimed I'd be too busy to notice them anyway. But of course, I still hadn't been able to open it.

I was sitting, like I had so many times lately, on the log behind the house with my unopened sketch book and a pencil in my lap. I was grateful that the log was far enough into the woods that I was concealed from view, so no one would know that I didn't actually draw anything anymore.

But today, I was trying very hard to get past that. I missed drawing. I missed the escape and the pleasure I felt when one of the pictures in my head materialized on paper. I wanted to be able to do it again. I needed to.

Reed had been gone for almost a month now and I made up my mind that I needed to come to a decision about my future. It was tempting to wait for him forever, but waiting wasn't a life. And if I stayed here, I'd never stop waiting.

Starting to draw again felt like the first step to moving on. I just couldn't seem to make myself do it. As soon as I opened my book, I'd be unable to keep from remembering the last time it had been opened. Seeing the pictures, I'd only be able to remember watching Reed look at them and what he thought.

But then, maybe that's what I needed to do - remember. I was so afraid of how much it would hurt, I'd been avoiding thinking about those special things as much as I could. But it had to happen eventually, and it was probably better sooner than later.

I clutched my pencil in my hand and looked down at the book in my lap, trying to work up the nerve to open it. Already, I was seeing Reed's pleased and surprised expression when I told him I was sure that I wanted him to look at my pictures.