A Fallen Flower

“Thank you for coming M. and Mme. Morris.” Annabelle Rowney said, flashing her dimples at the young couple standing in front of her.
“Well, it is a pleasure Mlle. Rowney, and may I say, have a very prosperous life.” M. Morris said leaned down to kiss the woman’s hand. He straightened up, smiled at Annabelle, turned to his wife and lead her off into the boisterous crowd of the party… This memory played through Annabelle Rowney’s mind a thousand times sense that night. And in her mind she could think of hundreds of things she could have done next to prevent what had happened to her. In her imagination, she thought of what her life would have become if she hadn’t agreed to go down to that stupid lake. She prayed to God to reverse time and set things the way they were supposed to be – to the way Annabelle had planned her life to end up like. But none of the things she hoped for came true, and Annabelle had to come to terms with what had happened.

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3. 3

The day passed without consequence other than the changing issue. Annabelle stayed quiet, either staring out the window, or reading a book. Matthew on the other hand, stood at the far end of the room, his jaw clenched, his hands behind his back – like a guard. At noon, he took her to the dining room in silence, and then back to the drawing room and regained his position at the far end of the room.

Night fell, and Matthew helped change Annabelle again, this time quicker; than he took her to her room, bowed and said “Good night, Annabelle.” and left, leaving Annabelle to ponder the day’s events. Matthew walked the four miles into town, and there took a bus to the south end, walked another mile and finally got home. After closing the door, he sighed rubbing his eyes, leaning against the wall.

“Was it that rough?” a voice said, and Matthew looked up to see his mother holding his child in her arms. He walked forward and held out his arms to hold the newborn.

“Sadly yes, she is a maniac!” he whispered as his mother handed his daughter over. “Ah Eloise, how I have missed you.” He cradled his daughter closer to his chest, looking over her face, wondering if she would take after her mom. “Was she good?” Matthew asked walking to the small kitchen, that amounted to nothing compared to Annabelle’s kitchen.

“She was as good as ever, missed you though.” His mom said following after, “-and her momma.”

“As do I Eloise, as do I.” Matthew sat down in a creaky chair and looked up at Mrs. Lewis. “Did she take from the bottle?” his mom smiled and nodded. “Really?”

“Yes, drank the entire thing! – and half of another!” Mrs. Lewis said sitting next to her son. Matthew beamed, his blue eyes lighting up, a smile creeping onto his face.

“That’s great! How I wish I could have been here.” Matthew said looking down at his child, yawning after the long day.

“I bet her mom would think the same if she were still around.” Mrs. Lewis said yawning herself, it had been a long day of caring for the child – persisting her to drink her milk. “Enough about Eloise or her mother, how was your day?”

“Long, I’ll tell you that. It ends up that I am not working for an elderly woman. I am, I mean I work for her, but not her exactly. I work for her daughter, Annabelle Rowney, she is the one who is paralyzed, not her mother.” Matthew’s mom nodded pondering.

“But you kept the job right?” she asked a hopeful look on her face.

“Of course I did! I have to take care of Eloise as a single parent, a poor single parent, I need the job. But, oh! How spoiled Annabelle is! She gets everything she wants without question, and if she doesn’t get it, she pouts like a child! Eloise has better manners and she is a baby!” Matthew exploded, his face going red with rage. “Not to mention it is forever and a bus ride away, I will barely be home. I am sorry Momma.”

“Oh nonsense! I love carrying for Eloise, it’s a grandmother’s job of course.” Mme. Lewis said smiling over at her son. He smiled back feeling grateful. “Well enough talking for tonight, you need to go to sleep; another long day awaits you.” Matthew nodded standing up and putting Eloise in her crib. He walked over to his desk and sat down, taking the picture of his now passed wife in his hands. He smiled down at the picture, and his wife smiled back, her eyes shining from the light of the camera.

“I wish you were still here.” He whispered setting the picture face down on the desk, putting his head in his hand. A feeling of grief over took Matthew and he stood, strode over to the wall, and punched it - breaking the plaster. He stifled a yell as the plaster cut his hand. Running to the kitchen, Matthew cleaned off his hand and wrapped it in clean cloth and went to bed. 

 

>Authors Note<

Hey readers! I I know this is a short chapter, but it is what it is. Please Like and comment, I care what you think!

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