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Jingle Bells
1.
2. The stiff clod of bandages worked against the silk lining of his wool coat. Every rub made a swish-SWISH sound that interrupted rhythmically the soft crunch of their footsteps over snow. As they moved slowly, Turner cursed the bullet that had penetrated his muscle and nestled nicely between two ribs. It impaired his gate, and so he cursed again how he leaned on Alonzo so, and again the only muffled sounds and blurry shapes that met the left side of his face.
3. “Good to be back?” The cold grated over the pinched flesh of a scar that slashed his face in half. “No.” The word came quickly and without hesitation, a fact that Alonzo didn’t seem to understand. He jostled Turner lightly and mumbled something to the effect of “you don’t mean that.” The acidic retort that Yes, yes I do came to mind, and they tickled at the backs of his lips. But Turner bit them off before they reached the cold and Alonzo’s bright red ears.
4. “Here we are, man.” The bright cherry wood of the front doors loomed above the wide, even field of snow that seemed to have fallen all at once. Turner grunted in reply, tearing his elbow from Alonzo’s grip as he tried to help him up the front stairs. A burning hole in his back muscle admonished the gesture. Turner only ignored it and waddled curiously to the front glass. Alonzo took a thick skeleton key from a pocket beneath his outer coat and let them into the warm foyer.
6. In every corner in which he looked, Turner could picture the woman he once courted, from the tips of her flaming red hair to the soft, velvet shoes that tiptoed about the manor in the mornings.
7. He all but laughed in the face of the ghost and stalked up the stairs ahead of Alonzo, who babbled on about something he’d rather ignore.
8. When he came to his bedroom, he let himself in. The door swung closed behind him, but Alonzo followed within moments. He pushed his way inside and interrupted the stale silence that enveloped the unused furniture.
9. “Would you look at that?” He grinned at a metal tray on which several tea cups and a hot pot of diluted green tea smoldered. “Looks like cook left you a treat. Seems to me we’re all glad to have you back.”
10. Cynically, he shot a glare in Alonzo’s direction and focused instead on brushing away his persistent helper and removing his own jacket. Grunting and moaning as his back muscle reprimanded him again for being so thick-headed, Turner won the struggle, and watched as Alonzo traded the delicate tea cup for a bottle of wine.
11. He pulled the cork from the bottle’s neck and poured his friend a generous glassful.
12. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say everyone.” “You’ll get back in the swing of things, man. You just got home: just give it some time.” Alonzo poured himself a cup of the diluted tea and left it on the tray to cool. “You know: Fanny never did marry…”
13. At the mention of his ex-fiancé, Turner rolled his eyes, swallowed the remaining wine, and refilled the goblet twice as generously as before. “Thanks for helping me home, boy.” Turner swallowed the second glass and motioned toward the door. “Appreciate it. Now, I’d walk you home – but my back’s not really in the mood for another trek up and down those stairs.”
14. When Alonzo didn’t move towards the exit, he motioned toward the bedroom door again.
16. A second coat of snow was in the midst of falling the following day. The plump flakes drifted on the sharp, winter breeze that ruffled the needles of the pine trees and the fur of the birds where they sang highly and lightly, perched atop the ruffled edges of a holly tree.
17. Taking cover beneath the falling snow, Alonzo had ventured out early that morning, going by foot to the manor where Mr. and Mrs. Jett lived with their daughter. He hoped to catch her while her parents were out, smiled, satisfied, and uncrossed his fingers when the housekeeper announced Charlotte was home on her own. He smiled graciously and the woman showed him to the parlor, where they found the young woman brushing her fingers lightly over the piano keys and punching out a gay Christmas carol.
18. He knocked three times on the doorframe. “Lonnie!” she squealed and jumped up from the bench, leaving the piano in an unpleasant clash of keys. She enveloped his neck in a tight squeeze. “I’ve been wondering when you would come by again!”
20. “Come, come: sit by the fire, your poor hands must be absolutely frozen!” She dragged him by the elbow to the plush, white cushions of the couch, where immediately and as exuberantly as ever she poured him mug after mug of tea that scorched her lips. “Now, what have you been up to?” “Have you seen Fanny out this morning?”
21. “Oh, no! She hardly ever ventures out in snow this deep,” she mused through pursed lips that dabbed at her own steaming teacup. “Fantastic.” “Fantastic?” she echoed with a puzzled expression. Alonzo matched it with a devilish grin of his own.
22. “Turner’s back,” he announced, his eyes flashing bright and his face young and glowing. “Oh, that is fantastic!” she cried and bounced up and down as she clapped her hands together. “How is he?” “He’s different. He’s grumpy.”
23. “Now, what is that devilish expression of yours for?” she squealed in her high, southern tone. Alonzo hung his head and chuckled before bringing his eyes back to hers.
24. “Between you and me…” He lowered his voice as if he expected the housekeeper to be hovering outside, or the gardener near the window, waiting for this confession. Charlotte bent lower, too, rattling her tea cup until she returned it to the coffee table and wringing her delicate fingers in anticipation of the gossip’s revelation. “I don’t think our old pal Turner’s feelings about Fanny have changed.”
25. Her eyes grew as wide as saucers. “Why, you don’t mean—”
27. Both heads flew to the doorway and both eyes devoured the redhead stood pleasantly beside the housekeeper. Charlotte leapt to her feet, stumbling over Alonzo’s feet and jostling his tea over the sides of his cup. Alonzo, too, stood and bowed gently at the waist.
28. “Oh, what are you doing in this snow, poor little thing? Come join me and Lonnie by the fire; I was just warming him up!” She pulled Fanny to the third couch much like she had Alonzo and settled her, too, with a mug of strong tea. “Why, lookee here, I have two snow bunnies to care for! Don’t you worry, poor thing, I’ll have you warmed up in NO time!”
29. Alonzo settled back into his armchair and allowed his own thoughts to drown out the constant chattering of Charlotte and the rare meek responses that seemed to involuntarily slip from Fanny’s lips every once in a while. He didn’t reenter the conversation until Fanny added: “What were you and Lon discussing?”
30. “Oh, sweat pea, it was hardly anything for you to worry that pretty little head over. Lonnie and I were just visiting.” Here, Alonzo interrupted. “Turner’s back.”
32. “Oh, and I suppose that telling her now, like this, was the best circumstance your itty, bitty lil brain could muster? Why, you should just go back to the army if you’re going to be such a blockhead, Lonnie – no one likes a blockhead!” “I’m the blockhead?!” “Why yes, sweat pea, I dare say you are!”
33. Another one of those accidental squeaks bubbled up from Fanny. “I don’t mind, Charlotte.” She made no point to address Alonzo, or to thank him for the announcement, but rather settled back into her quiet demeanor.
34. Within the next few moments of silence that had interrupted the bickering pair, she returned her tea cup to the coffee table and excused herself from their company. She settled herself at the window, where she stared with her wide, jade eyes out over the fresh snow.
35. “Can you believe that there is so much snow out there, darlin’?” Charlotte mused, excusing Alonzo from her scrutinizing glare for a brief moment. “And to think, we just got rid of the last one…” Fanny remained enveloped in her comfortable silence. She smiled lightly out at the snow and adjusted her round glasses frame with one hand, but made no vocal move to reply. Charlotte honed her glare in on Alonzo once again.
36. “Do you see what you did?” she hissed. “Just look at that poor creature, standin’ there by the window, probably all broken up and teary inside, and all because you went off actin’ like a blockhead again!” She gave his shoulder a swift smack for emphasis. “Look at her, she’s fine,” Alonzo insisted, rubbing the spot where her fingers, thin as rods and swift as a whip, had struck him. “Right, Fanny? Please, for the sake of my wellbeing, tell Charlotte here you’re fine.”
37. “Yes, dear,” Fanny added mechanically. “I’m fine. But really I should get going. Looking at all this snow makes me realize what a pain it’ll be to walk home in.”
38. “Lonnie here can call a carriage for you – can’t you, Lonnie?” Charlotte’s glare had melted into a sweet smile that she brandished like a weapon. Before Alonzo could decline, Fanny interjected. “That’s alright.” She smiled her one sweet smile, though it faltered and fell dark in the illumination of Charlotte’s. “I quite like walking in the snow, actually.” “Well, then, I’ll see you out,” Charlotte insisted.
39. “No, no.” Fanny motioned her back into her seat, which Charlotte had already half-risen from. Charlotte sank back with a dejected expression. “I’ll see myself out. Thanks for the tea. It was nice to see you again, Lon.” Alonzo gave her a half wave and she disappeared around the corner.
40. “Oh. Well, goodbye, sweat pea…” Charlotte’s voice trailed off and nowhere near reached the girl on her way to the front door. She stared dazedly at her tea cup, but a moment or two of silence snapped her right back. “Lonnie, you imbecile!” she shrieked. He ducked from another smack across the shoulder. “I just knew talking about Turner was just about the worst, most down low and terrible thing you could have done to a poor thing like her!”
41. “Low down? Terrible?” he echoed. “That’s right, Lonnie – low down and terrible! Why can’t you stinkin’ men learn to respect a woman when she hasn’t gotten over another man? Why, you’re just as terrible as the rest of ‘em!”
42. She turned her back on him and tapped her fingers against her forearm. “So you mean to say that Fanny isn’t over Turner.” He hummed aloud as if he found the prospect especially intriguing. When Charlotte didn’t catch on, he hummed again and added: “And I’m saying that Turner isn’t over Fanny.”
43. Her eyes flew to the size of saucers once again. Alonzo wondered if her eyes had ever popped out. “You don’t think that we could--” “Look, Charlotte, all I’m saying is it’d be mighty convenient if you were having a little get together this week, and mighty convenient if Fanny and Turner were to run into each other there.”
44. She frowned as she processed the idea. “And mighty, mighty convenient if their love was to... re-spark.” She hummed aloud as well, and for a moment the two went back and forth humming and pondering the idea devilishly. “Well, but I don’t think… I mean, we shouldn’t meddle… I mean, could we, Lonnie?” “Well, you’ve got a pen and paper, haven’t you?” She nodded hurriedly and motioned toward the deck in the corner. “Let’s just see what happens.”
45. Charlotte squealed and was the first one out of her seat. And so, for the remainder of the morning and for a good part of the afternoon, she sat hunched over her desk and two, near identical letters that she drafted first in her feminine, loopy handwriting, and then in a more standard print that she imagined looked like something that could come from Alonzo’s hand. He dictated over her shoulder, insisting she rub out misspellings, start over here, don’t write that there – and by noon, Charlotte had shooed him into the corner where he munched contentedly on a pale of chocolates the housekeeper brought in. It was nearly a blizzard before Alonzo embarked on the walk home.
46. “Is Turner here?” The housekeeper almost clutched her sides and erupted in laughter.
47. “Is he home?” she echoed, opening the door wide and showing Alonzo into the parlor where he shook specks of snow onto the floorboards. “He’s been home all week, sir.” “And where can I find him?”
48. “In the same room you found him in the day before, and the day before that, and –” “And the day before that,” Alonzo finished. He smiled and edged closer to the stairs.
49. “TURNER! TURNER!” he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled up in the direction of his friend’s bedroom. It only took a moment or two more of Alonzo’s voice ringing through the spacious walls of the manor for Turner to turn up at the top of the balcony. He leaned out over the rail and pinched his eyes at the visitor.
51. “For you to get dressed and come outside,” he announced with a grin.
52. “Look, I already told you, Lon: I’m not going to the Gardner’s for tea, I’m not coming with you to Charlotte’s to hear her jab at that ruddy piano of hers – I’m not coming out, PERIOD.”
53. “It’s not a party and it isn’t to tea,” he called up after the figure of Turner that had begun to retract from the balcony and shuffled stiffly, still, in the direction of the bedroom. “I’ve got a new sleigh. All this snow and I figured I could use a thing like that. I want you to come try it out with me – the snow’s just fallen.”
54. For a moment, his figure paused. “I’ve got a nice bottle of wine, perfect for keeping warm on a sleigh ride through the fresh, solitary snow.” “…What kind of wine?”
55. The silver bells were tied to the rims of the sleigh and jingled lightly on their way through the wilderness. The day had grown short and the night stretched out before them. And so, in the twilight, they cut through town on their way back to Turner’s estate. Alonzo loosened the reigns and slowed the horses on their way passed a small boutique.
56. “Would you look at that, Turner? It’s the girls! Hello, girls!” Alonzo waved from the sleigh. “Oh, and would you look at that? Their dresses are soaked all the way up to the knee from all the snow!” They came to a full stop, now, next to Fanny, who was being pushed adamantly from the store by a flush-cheeked Charlotte.
57. “Look at that, sweet pea,” she hissed through a forced smile. “It’s the boys.” Fanny averted her eyes from the sleigh. Likewise, Turner cast his own eyes back toward the forest of white evergreens they had just emerged for. Each longed to be back where they’d been standing only moments ago, rather than in the awkward cold of the winter evening.
58. “Fantastic sleigh, Lonnie,” Charlotte gushed. “It must be wonderful to have a ride home on such a cold day like this, what with all the snow and slush.”
59. What do you think, Turner? Should we let these poor little… creatures,” he said, fishing for one of Charlotte’s words. “Wander about in the sleet and snow all evening? Surely we have enough room in the sleigh for the four of us.” Turner just glared back.
60. “Wonderful!” Charlotte grinned and took Alonzo’s extended hand. “Charlotte!” Fanny wined behind her. But she only climbed into the sleigh and settled among the dancing, glittering belles. Alonzo extended his hand to Fanny next.
61. The sleigh bells slapped against the leather reins, jingling loudly as Alonzo urged the horses to slide quickly over the snow that ruffled beneath their hooves. Charlotte giggled and cackled and squealed fragmented lines of carols as they swept windily across the field.
62. “Now aren’t you glad you came, sweet pea? What fun would walking home in this have been?" she spoke to the petite folds of scarf and overcoat, which eyes peeked out between. It sat stiffly next to a larger lump of a wool overcoat, dribbled with forming icicles, each of which refused to acknowledge one another. Fanny had wedged her skirts under her knees, subjecting the edges to the icy wind and icicles just so they didn’t sit against Turner’s trousers.
63. “Come now; see how well the sleigh handles! It is the newest model!” Alonzo exclaimed as he jerked the reins sharply to the left, sending the Clydesdales into a frenzy and tipping Charlotte into his own ribs and Fanny into Turner's. “For goodness sake, Lon, can’t you slow down?” Fanny gasped angrily as she pushed a very stiffly apologetic Turner from her lap.
64. “Slow down? Ha! All the fun of a new sleigh is breaking it in!” Charlotte added her laughter to the racket of Alonzo's yells to the horses and gripped her friend's arm, in futile hope that Fanny would do the same. He drove the horses in a circle. Halfway through the wide turn, there came a deep clunking noise and everyone could feel the runners shudder first, then and quit moving altogether.
65. The sleigh groaned and reared against the snow. “What did you do to this sleigh, Lonnie?" Charlotte huffed, echoed by similar, more meek and polite questions from Turner and Fanny. “Ya! Ya!” Alonzo cracked his whip against the wide flesh of the horses' backs. The animals strained against their harness, yanking at the sleigh with their thick, bulky muscles. The machine refused to move.
66. Alonzo cursed aloud, sending quite the shade of pink rushing to Fanny's cheeks, and threw the reins into Charlotte's lap. He hopped over the side of the sleigh and landed in a snow bank that swarmed up around his knees. "We've gone into a drifted bank," he announced incredulously. "Oh, what's this 'we' business?" Charlotte roared. "Mr. The-best-way- to-try-a-sleigh-is-run-it-into-the-ruddy-snow done gone into a drift bank, thank you very much!"
67. "Thanks, little miss LOVES-the-ride-until-a-problem-comes-along, I really appreciate that!" Charlotte huffed and turned back into her seat. "You’re very welcome." "Well, can't you fix it, Lon?" Fanny piped up. "Yeah, maybe if we men push with the horses," added Turner. “Why, that's the smartest thing anyone’s said all afternoon! Turner, you scootch on out there with that blockhead. Fanny, sweet pea, you hold on." Charlotte scrunched her skirts into her thin fingers and stomped into the driver’s seat. “On the count of three, now. One-”
68. Alonzo and Turner took positions at the back of the carriage. “Two-” They leaned their weight against the wood. “Three!” Charlotte cracked the reins and snapped the whip while the boys pushed, but the runners stayed put. “You lazy bag of bones," Charlotte groaned. "Haven’t you got another horse?"
69. "As a matter of fact this lazy bag of bones-" his voice trailed off when he caught her wink. "...has one back in his barn." "Fantastic!" She flashes him a smile and laid a hand on Turners arm. His fingers worked at the harnesses that straddled the horse. "Hoist me up, will you, sweet pea?" "Sorry man," Alonzo offered and mounted the first horse. "Yeah, but--"
70. "Oh, I couldn't stay another minute in this cold! Jut sit tight, sweet pea. I'm sure you and Turner we'll be just fine!" She giggled and slid her petite foot into Turner's intertwined hands. She straddled the horse, fidgeting with the skirt that bunches about her thighs and spurred her horse into a gallop with Lon following close behind her. "Be back in a jiff!"
71. Fanny blushed as their figures faded and sank lower into the seat. What was Charlotte thinking, leaving her here alone with Turner? She knew how she felt about him. Fanny sighed and twisted to watch Turner as he trekked up the snow bank, trying not to sink in. “How long do you think they’ll be?” she asked, diving nervously into small talk as she fiddled with the fringes on her scarf. She hoped they wouldn’t take too long; it was starting to get colder. Instead of answering, Turner fiddled with his hat.
72. “Mr. Moore?” He continued to push through the snow. “Turner?”
73. When he didn’t answer again, Fanny got out of the sleigh and hurried up behind him to tap him on the shoulder.
74. At her touch, Turner whipped around and let out a yell, not having yet rid himself of his old military habits and jitters. Fanny flinched and nearly tumbled down the bank.
75. “Oh, geez! I didn't mean to startle you-” Turner out to take her hand, but she turned away and started back for the sleigh. He caught up to her quickly and blocked her path, “I said I am sorry.”
76. “I heard you. And it's fine. Seems I startled you first anyhow." He let half a smile escape his lips and hesitated before speaking, “It’s not your fault, Fanny. Er, Miss. Bright. Truth be told, my time in the army banged me up more than I had expected.” “What do you mean?”
77. “I mean, the Battle of Antietam. I mean, during that a cannon exploded.” “So? Thousands of cannons explode; I hear them all the time.” “No, it went off right next to me. I’m not whole anymore, Fanny. I’m half deaf and I can’t see a thing out of my left eye.”
78. “Oh.” Fanny’s heart dropped at Turner’s words. She pushed past him, not sure how to respond, and sank back into the sleigh. Turner sat down beside her. After minute, his fingers found hers. She let him hold it for a moment, but soon pulled away quickly and blinked back tears. “Is that why you broke off our engagement? Because you were wounded?” Turner sighed. He knew he owed her some form of an explanation, some variation of the letter that he had addressed to her nearly a year ago. Still, he found the words as difficult to muster now as when he'd failed to mail that letter.
79. “No, no. My injuries happened after I wrote you that last letter. War hasn’t just changed me physically, Fanny. It’s turned me into something that I wasn’t; something that doesn’t deserve someone as wonderful as you.” “But, Turner, I’m sure-” “Stop it, Miss. Bright. You’re making this too hard; can’t we discuss... Well, let's see. How is your dear mother?”
80. Fanny grumbled and turned away so he wouldn’t see the tears fall. “Furious.” Turner felt his face grow red and he didn’t try to continue the conversation. Fanny scooted as far away as she could and tucked her skirts close once more.
81. “I cannot believe you dragged me to this house, Charlotte!” Fanny hissed into her friend’s ear as she stood in the foyer of the Moore Mansion. “I said I would come to a Christmas party, but you did not say that it was here!” “Come come, sweet pea! Don’t be so such a drag; lighten up a little! It’s Christmas Eve, after all; time for gaiety, not anger.” Charlotte reprimanded lightheartedly as she entered on the arm of Alonzo. She smiled at the guests that filled the rooms and steered her escort towards the parlor.
82. “Come, Lonnie. Let’s go find our dear Scrooge some entertainment.” “So sorry, my dear, but you must go on without me. I'll meet up with you later; there's someone I must find." “And what poor creature must function beneath your company?" “Our host.” Alonzo announced and untangled his arm from Charlotte’s. She rolled her eyes and reached instead for Fanny who was lagging behind. She pulled at her gloved fingers and entangled their arms Alonzo started up the staircase and the two girls wandered lightly to the parlor where the carols played and laughter bubbled.
83. “Turner! Turner, open the door!” Alonzo insisted as he rattled the handle with one hand and knocked with the other.
84. Inside the bedroom, Turner cracked one eye open, glared into the blaring darkness, and grumbled aloud. The fire garbled lowly in the hearth. He rolled his eyes at the commotion, but pushed himself up on one arm and strained his ears. Was that music?!
85. “Come on, let me in!” Alonzo smiled with satisfaction when he heard the door unlock and his friend cracked it wide enough to poke his eyes out. “What now, Lon?” “I’ve come to retrieve you!” He announced and shoved his way in through the door.
86. “What are you wearing, Lon?” Turner sighed at Lon’s enthusiastic smile. “I am not going to a party. I just want to stay in tonight. Maybe do some reading.” “Not to worry, man! I’m not taking you to a party; I’ve brought the party to you!” He said and twisted the switch on a gas light, illuminating the room. “What?!” What little color was left in his face drained and pooled around his plush slippers. “Don’t you hear the music? The people talking? The banquet? The gaiety?" He only glared in reply.
87. “Well, I thought you needed some social interaction and, since I knew I couldn’t drag you from the house again, I brought people to the house. There’s a whole party in full swing downstairs, just waiting for their host to make his appearance!” “Now, if you think that I’m going down there, you’ve got another thing coming, Alonzo!”
88. “Pah! They all came to see you, buddy! Sort of like a ‘welcome back’ party. How can you not go to your own party?” “Quite easily! I refuse to leave this room! Please tell everyone to leave. I want peace and quiet!” Turner shouted at his friend as he walked away.
89. “Now, where are your suits? I know you have more than one.” Alonzo mused as he opened the wardrobe and sifted through. “Not in. They’ve been sent to the cleaners.” “Fine, then. If they’re all gone, you can just wear your uniform!”
90. "...and he went and drank all the Christmas punch!" Charlotte's bright laughter sent the group into sharp giggles and low chortles. "What’d u do?" Fanny gasped in between giggles and rubbed the rims of her watering eyes with the edges of her knuckles.
91. "What could we do, sweet pea? Jed just went and took that man by both his heels, and dragged him clear cross..." "Ahem." The story was interrupted by the short cough of a well dressed man who entered from the side door.
92. "Why, if it isn't Lonnie!" Charlotte grabbed at his elbow, sucking her into their little group and introducing him to the other women who listened to the story. "Why, it is." He smiled. "And I've brought a little surprise for you. For the whole room, actually." "Lonnie!" Charlotte squealed. "I don't believe it!"
93. A fit of giggles and a bundle of light headed excitement, she directed her attention to Alonzo and the wide doorway that loomed beyond him. "Ladies, I'm pleased to present your host for this evening, Mr. Turner Moore."
94. Charlotte clapped her fingers wildly together, elbowing the other girls to persuade them to join in. He entered modestly into the room, his eyes kept protectively close so that they didn't stray in the direction of any one he didn't wish to see. His uniform glinted dully in the low light. He nodded in response to the women, but made no effort to verbalize the entrance. "Oh, Turner!" she squealed, brushing imaginary crumbs and stale pieces of lint from the shoulders of his uniform. "You look fantastic - and it's so wonderful to see you down here for the party!"
95. "I didn't come for the party," he grunted, cutting his eyes toward Alonzo, who had melted into the background. "It done came to me." Charlotte giggled, regardless of the bitter edge to his voice. "Oh, Lonnie," she exclaimed next as the band that sat in the corner of the room launched a new song. "I just adore this song!"
96. Alonzo stared blankly. "And," she added, forcing the sweetness to seep through her clenched teeth like crusted honey. "I just adore dancing." Alonzo glanced back and forth between his friends. "Oh, Lonnie!" she huffed and gave his shoulder that old familiar thud. "Would you like to dance?"
97. "Oh, dance!" he ran a hand through his hair. "Well, alright." "Wonderful!" Slowly he rested his hand on her waist and, with her grinning wildly in the dark, spun off across the floor to the sound of the Virginia Reel.
98. Fanny glanced between the other woman and Turner. The other woman gathered her skirts and scurried off to the punch table as if she'd taken the look as direction. "Your dress looks...nice," Turner interrupted the long silence that had begun to stretch between the two. "Thank you. Your uniform’s nice."
99. "Gee, thanks." He glanced down at the ruffles on her sleeves and the wide spans of her skirts that poofed out as she sat. "You know, that dress reminds me of the one you wore to our engagement..." He swallowed the words and gulped down another lungful of dry air when he'd realized what slipped out. Her eyes glinted in the darkness. "Yes, well." She sighed. "You would say that."
100. "Me? What is that supposed to mean...?" "Well, I'm just saying, Turner..."
101. "What’s happening, Lonnie? Dad gummit, what good is you leading if you ain't gonna tell me what they're doing?" "Shush, Charlotte - they're only talking."
102. "Well, spin me round so I can get a good look." Alonzo complied, spinning the light Charlotte halfway around and dipping her back low to the ground so that she had a clear view of Fanny and Turner through the legs of the other dancers. “Oh,” she huffed. “They’re only talking, yes…” Alonzo tried to bring her up from the dip, but Charlotte grunted in protest and remained hanging, suspended from his hands where the blood rushed to her head and her expression changed. “No… no, they’re not talking, Lonnie… Lonnie, why! They’re arguing!”
103. Alonzo stood her up from the dip in time for them to see the pair take off down the hall, their voices echoing off the empty walls as they went.
104. The kitchen door shut several feet ahead of them. Alonzo tried the door handle, and when he found the handle to be locked, he motioned for Charlotte to press her ear against the door alongside him. The angry voices seeped out from beneath the door, sliding across the kitchen tiles and puffing up around their feet.
105. “I didn’t mean it like that, Fanny!” “You never mean anything you say, just like you didn’t mean it when you asked me to be your wife!”
106. Several doors slammed, and after a moment the handle to the kitchen door jostled and it slung wide. Charlotte babbled on and stumbled back with Alonzo. Turner stormed out of the kitchen, his face a bright red shade and beads of sweat forming along his hair line.
107. Charlotte exclaimed in her southern accent, a sound that sounded more like a wail, and flew to Fanny’s side. She cooed and shushed the crying child, murmuring sweet names like ‘sweet pea’ and ‘poor darling’ in her most comforting tone.
109. “Turner, I have to tell you that you’re making a mistake!” He tore into the bedroom, unwelcome and unannounced, with this. Turner, startled and only a few steps inside the doorway, turned his glare on his friend. “Me making the mistake? This isn’t a mistake,” he roared. “The only mistake I ever made was joining that ruddy war; that ruddy war changes people, Lon. It changed me, and I can’t ever have a wife, or get married, or raise a family because everywhere I look I see the ghosts!”
110. “You’re not fighting the war anymore, man.” “Oh, I’m fighting, boy. Lord knows I’m fighting.” The two men stared at each other from the corner of their eyes in the low light, almost daring one another to break the silence first.
111. “It’s not a war you have to fight.” Alonzo was the first to give, and he spoke the words calmly but sharply. He motioned toward the desk. “You know where the ring is, Turner. You know that in all those months after you turned it over to me, I kept it safe. I just polished it last night. Come on, man. You aren’t alone in this. Let’s just see what happens.”
112. The soft knock on the kitchen door came first. A firmer knock followed. Turner entered slowly, his face a still mask in comparison to the puffy, childish features of the once sobbing Fanny. Alonzo stood around the corner and motioned Charlotte from the kitchen.
113. Without a word, for once, she gathered her skirts in her hand, gave Fanny a final pat on the shoulder, and joined Alonzo in the dining room.
114. They poked their faces into the space left between the door and the wall.
115. “Fanny, I backed out of our marriage because I was afraid a war that we were fighting had changed me… for the worse. I didn’t think I could be that man that had that optimistic attitude, or could smile at your jokes, and take you for carriage rides without thinking of all the lives I witnessed falling, and all the ones that I pushed off the edge.” Fanny parted her lips to respond, but Turner cut her off.
116. “I’d forgotten about all the people around me. I forgot about you, about Charlotte, about Lon. And when Lon and I were talking tonight, I realized I don’t want to fight anymore wars. I don’t want to fight to avoid you in the market, to keep my eyes away from yours when we’re trying out another of ole Lonnie’s sleighs. Lon was right. He was always right. This is a war I have a choice in… a war that you have a choice in.”
117. He dropped swiftly onto one knee and, producing the velvet box that held the freshly polished ring from the last drawer in the desk, smiled.
