Seven years had passed with the normality of the southern way of life. Picnics, church, barbecues, holidays and cotton marketing. Vivica birthed a beautiful baby girl and named her Anna Lynn. I believe her to be 3 now. Vivica and her family moved to Charleston last year. Other than the occasional letter and the holiday visit we do not see much of them. Bethanie however has given birth to a set of bouncing twin boys, just last year. Bethanie and Stephen are hopeful to be expecting another child within the year. Their plantation is just a town over, in Quitman. Mother, the children and I, ride over quite frequently to visit. Rebecca is a mannered woman now, no longer the prankster of a child she once was. She is an artist and wishes to travel to Paris to study Art. Mother and Father have yet to decide. The family is still vibrant and loving.

I am sixteen now, considered a young woman. My expectations have increased over the years. I am no longer the little girl who sat on Mother’s lap hearing secrets, although Mother still finds time to sit and sing to me. I have responsibilities now. What I have no clue, they have yet to be explained to me, however last week when I felt like rolling my leggings up to my knees and wadding in the pond Father scolded me good. This new era in my life is rather frustrating and confusing to me. 

I spend a lot of time playing the piano; I have become an extremely well performer entertaining guests and family at social events.

One Saturday morning I awoke to the sound of voices talking. I pulled on my morning robe and walked down the hall to Melanie’s room, where I noticed that Mother was standing along side the bed and the doctor on the other.

“Mrs. Dean, it seems to be nothing but the common illness, it is going about. It shall pass within a few days. There is no need to be worried I assure you.” The doctor instructed Mother to keep the room open and clean and to limit contact with the other family members, to minimize the spread of the illness.

Oh, but how he was wrong. It spread like wildfire. First, to Mother then to Richard and Raymond, it spread throughout the whole family, even the plantation hands got it.

Three weeks had passed and the sickness was still present, especially in poor Melanie. Mother sick herself stayed by her side night and day. Melanie had a terrible cough and was constantly covered in ice to attempt to break the fever. The fever was so extreme one day that poor Melanie went into convulsions, from the fever getting so high. Melanie’s cough got worse. Nothing seemed to help. The doctor bled her out; he said that Melanie’s blood was infected. Therefore, Mother consented. However, it only made her weaker. Four days after she was bled out, Melanie passed away. 

Mentally Mother was no longer with us. It was as if she disappeared as if she passed away along with Melanie. Mother slept in Melanie’s bed for two weeks, until Father demanded that Mother come back to reality and tend to the needs of her other children.

Richard and Raymond bounced back rather quickly from the illness, and as Mathew and I lie together sharing the same room, much like quarantine, the boys were out playing and pulling pranks on the plantation hands.

Days came and gone, Nights rolled in and out. It seemed as though it was getting worse, our cough our fevers, the weight loss and the horrid metallic taste that stained the inside of our mouths. I thought many times that death must have been approaching me. Some days I would be worse than Mathew, other days he would be worse than me. It is almost as if the sickness was taking working shifts in our bodies. Now poor Rebecca has caught it. Finally, it started to pass for Mathew and me. The fevers started to break, hunger return only to drink broth though. Rebecca just now at the beginning stages of the sickness, starting to cough, fever starting to set in now. By tomorrow, she will be pale in color.

I could not sleep one night so I sat up in bed and read by candle light. The window raised and a soft breeze was blowing, the lacey white curtain blowing in and out of the window. Then a feeling of watching eyes crept over my body. I looked up from my book and stared at the opened window but nothing no one was there. I went back to reading, and then once again the same feeling came over me. Frightening me, I blew the candle out and covered myself with the quilt, even my head. Eventually I fell off to sleep.

The warmth of the morning sun woke me. My bed was empty. Where’s Mathew. I jumped out of bed ran down the hallway to the stairs started running down them and BOOM.I slipped. I tumbled to the bottom where I laid crying and in pain. Then a man with long curly brown hair and deep blue eyes came to my side knelt down to his knee, “Mamm, are you all right?” he asked, in a deep voice, placing his hand on my shoulder.

“I’m not sure. Where is my father? Who are you? Ooohhh!!!” and with that my father came running.

“Deli, Deli, what happen? Are you hurt? Do not move. Sir, please go and fetch Doctor Peters, take the brown mare, she’s the quickest. Hurry now!” Father demanded of the man.

“Father, Where’s Mathew? He was not beside me this morning. Is he….”

“No, Deli, he is just fine. He slept with your Mother and I, he had a nightmare, kept saying someone was watching him through the window last night. Are you able to stand?”

“I can try Father, however the pain is terrible.”

I did try but as I placed weight on my foot, I swear, I heard a pop in my ankle and down to the floor; I fell, crying as if I were a child.

“Robert? What is going on? Is that Deli crying?” Mother shouted at father as she came around the corner. “Oh! Delicate, What on Earth?” she sat beside me on the floor, her hands wrapped around my face wiping the tears from my cheeks.

After a bit of a wait the doctor and the man arrived, Father carried me up the stairway, back to my bed, where the doctor examined my swollen painful foot.

“Well, Delicate you sure are!” he exclaimed, and then finishing by stating, “Your little stumble caused your ankle to pop out of place my dear.”

“So, fix it doctor. The pain is terrible. I am trying to hold it in but I don’t know how much longer I am capable of doing so.” Not meaning to but I was yelling at this point.

“Deli, here” he said as he blessed a looped belt between my teeth. “You are going to bite and bite hard on this, you hear?”

“Uh huh!” is all I could mumble out. He took my leg stretched it out “1…..2……..3!”Pop!

 Oh how I screamed. I have never felt anything as painful nor do I ever wish to again.

“There you go Delicate. Now I will have to put your foot in a splint, so you are not going to be able to put any weight or pressure on it for at least four weeks. I will come by once a week to check on you. Do you understand?” he said with a sarcastic tint in his voice.

“Yes, sir I understand, but the pain doctor, can you make that stop? Please.” I begged him.

“Sure I can just a moment.” He rambled through his bag and pulled out a clear liquid in a brownish bottle. “Now here, 1 teaspoon every 4 to 6 hours as needed for pain no more. Do you understand?” he asked, waiting for an answer from everyone in the room.

Wait everyone in the room. That man. I am in my nightgown. Oh my!!!!

I looked around but he was not here. Nowhere did I see him. Mother approached the bed, bent down and whispered quietly in my ear “Deli, he thought it more polite to wait outside your door. Shall I let him in?”

“In a moment Mother.” I answered her.

We thanked the doctor and as he left, I straightened myself up a bit. Which consisted of pulling the quilt over me, and I motioned for Mother to allow the man whom rode to fetch the doctor, admittance into my room.

“I want to thank you, sir. I am Ms. Delicate Dean.” I said extending my hand to his.

“Your welcome Ms. Dean, My name is Timothy Marons. I’m glad I could be of service.” He stated as he took my hand in his and bowed, his beautiful hair falling over his shoulders.

“If I may? Inquire about your injury.” He asked looking into my eyes. I was captivated by the shade of ocean blue in his.

“Yes. It seems as though my clumsiness has popped my ankle out of place.” I answered, with a grin.

“Well, you should get your rest.”

“Thank you again Mr. Marons.”

“It was a pleasure meeting you and seeing the sunrise for the second time.” He said as he placed another kiss on my hand.

“Good day Mr. Marons.”

“It is now.” He answered as he walked out of my room.

Mother followed Mr. Marons out. I decided to close my eyes and rest.

*

A week later, I was cured from the illness, Mathew also. He has returned to his old self, playing with the other boys. However, there is something missing in his eyes. A certain spark, and at times I can see in his face that he does not feel whole any longer, he misses Melanie. Even at seven, he knows she is never coming back to us.

Rebecca was well; I do not even think she received the worse of it. I remember hearing her cough a little but that was all. She was walking around earlier humming and carrying on, playing around with her hair, gazing out into the fields from the window in the painting room.

I myself have a homemade cane of sorts, which enabled me to be a bit mobile.

My heroic Mr. Timothy Marons, accepted the invitation for dinner tonight, which Mother extended last week after my mishap with the stairs. I was very excited to see him again.