 |
| Charles (25) and Mary Willoby (20) |
 |
| Enjoying the Afternoon. |
 |
| Violet (3) and Lydia(3) Willoby. |
The Willoby’s had only been married four short years but, they had found happiness in each other.
Their marriage was not one of love, but of understanding and mutual respect.
They were friends first and foremost the same way they had always been, and they always would be. Everything else was duty. Charles was a doctor by trade. As was father before him, and his before him. He had hoped to one day move the business out of their small country home and into a more permanent facility. But, for the time being he conducted business where he lived and they made due with the cramped quarters. And as always Charles dreamt of a son to inherit all that he had built. A dream that soon might be real considering Mary was nearing the final delivery of their third child. He knew that a son would secure the future of his wife and their two daughters if anything were to happen to him.
They were friends first and foremost the same way they had always been, and they always would be. Everything else was duty. Charles was a doctor by trade. As was father before him, and his before him. He had hoped to one day move the business out of their small country home and into a more permanent facility. But, for the time being he conducted business where he lived and they made due with the cramped quarters. And as always Charles dreamt of a son to inherit all that he had built. A dream that soon might be real considering Mary was nearing the final delivery of their third child. He knew that a son would secure the future of his wife and their two daughters if anything were to happen to him.
++++
No one could have prepared The Willoby’s for what was to happen.
No one could have told Charles that he didn’t need to go to the market that morning.
That he should stay home and work on the growing mound of paperwork in his office.
Or at the very least work on finishing the crib for the child that was due in only a few short weeks.
But, Mary wanted berries for a pie she was making for the twins fourth birthday and she was in no
condition for the trek to the market. So he took Violet and Lydia with him and left her
the afternoon to bake alone.
the afternoon to bake alone.
Maybe she dozed off folding laundry or got distracted putting the nursery together.
But, she didn’t smell the smoke or see the fire in time to flee. And as Charles stood with the twins
who were barely old enough to understand that she was not going to make it out,
he watched his wife through the second story window until her body fell from view and the flames
consumed her. He could do nothing but stand and stare until the fire extinguished itself.
The next day went by in a daze. Sifting through the rubble of their home, trying to salvage what
was left of their lives. Charles buried Mary beneath the roses she loved and made his way
with the girls to Mary’s childhood home. Praying that Mary's mother Castilla would take them in.
If not for his sake, at least for her granddaughters.
No comments:
Post a Comment