This story is re-written, for the same reason Emily's is. Ask us in a chat or something if you want to know why. It's about the Ferrier's, the Davises cousins who share some farmland with them. :D (You don't have to read it if it turns out to be boring. There's no plot, I just enjoy writing about families, and wanted to share it with you.)
Also, please tell me if the script is too tiny, and I'll change it. And the "Quid tempor" part is supposed to be "How long did it take you?" in Latin. I still need to work on that part, hehe, it's not the correct Latin form of it, and it's not even all of it. Anyway, read on:
Chapter One: Sweet Sisterhood
Michelle and John Ferrier married at Christmas in 1994, a lovely, happy couple, both very young and having just finished college at St. Thomas Aquinas. Red roses and glowing candles filled the church, the Latin Mass was simply beautiful, and Michelle’s little sisters could never stop hugging her. Her mother kissed the couple both on the cheeks, murmuring to her daughter, “I’m so happy for you, my darling.” Snow was gently falling outside, sparkling like thousands of diamonds when they gathered on the ground. The young couple nestled next to each other in their limousine, kissed each other once more, and held on to each other the whole ride.
They live together in a very small, white house with blue trim in New Hampshire that John’s great-grandfather owned, with a big barn, huge fields, an apple orchard, and the surrounding land, where most of the relatives lived and shared the fields with them, helping them plant and plow the crops. Michelle’s first baby was a beautiful little daughter, Helene Celine, with bright blue eyes and thick blonde hair, just like her mother. Almost every other year they had more beautiful children.
Helene was a petite teen, bursting with energy, enthusiastic, and as daring as her brothers. Her short blonde hair was mostly curls, and she was very slender, sometimes Mama worried about her, but then, she was growing very fast now, and it was very normal. She loved riding her beautiful, muscularly shaped pure-bred mare, Chesnutt, who had a glossy auburn coat and a long, soft mane. Helene was sitting among all the May, white apple blossoms, little bunches of sweetness with a pink glow, surrounding her, and the sweet notes of bird song was ripe upon the air, oh the air! It was so full of fragrance, of all the blossoms, of new grass, of sweet pollen. Everything was so hot now, but it was a pleasant kid of hot. She heaved a deep, contended sigh and pushed her curls out of her eyes. She began picking big bunches of blooms and gathered them up in her arms. They smelled so sweet, a really fresh sweetness. She swung down from the apple tree and pranced all along the orchard, between the rows of trees. She was just reaching the Macoon row when two little girls, very small for their ages, came running at her. They looked like identical twins, with fluffy yellow curls cut short around their round faces and bright blue eyes. The slightly taller one was Alice, five, and the other was Irene, her little sisters.
“Hey, honeys, is it Mama? Does she want me again? I already swept out the barn, if that’s what she’s asking, but I forgot to feed the chickens. Cecile’s probably doing that anyway, well, what is it?”
The little girls were exclaiming over the apple blossoms, smelling them and taking a few for themselves.
Finally Alice informed, “The boys are having a soccer game and they told us to tell you if you wanted to play.”
“Where are they?”
“The field,” Alice replied vaguely. “Can we take these to our room, Helene?”
“Oh yeah, sure, go ahead.” Helene thrust the blossoms into their arms and ran off through the grass, yelling out, I’m coming, don’t start yet!” The grass seemed to shimmer in the sunlight, and the hills looked hazy in the distance. The small houses on the edge of the field could barely be seen, but they were little cottages near the orchard next to all the crops. Most of the relatives lived in the simple, pretty cottages, which had graceful trees surrounding them.
William and Stephen were kicking the soccer ball around. They were two typical teens, tall and gangling, with blond hair that was slightly curly and was always growing too long before Mama could get the chance to cut it. Benedict, who was four, had the same hair and was small like his sisters, looked up to them more than anything. He would do anything they did, copying their every move. He was jumping up and down now, trying to get at the ball, yelling with glee when one of them kicked it in his direction. “The goal, get it to the goal!” Stephen was shouting at him.
Benedict ran as fast he could, trying not to let the ball go astray, concentrating hard so Stephen would be impressed with him, but then he realized he didn’t know where or even what the goal was. He slowed down, tears on the verge of pouring out, when Helene came to the rescue. Good old Helene. She kicked the ball hard and it flew away towards the woods and through the two maples.
“Score!” Stephen shouted, running over to clap her on the back and jump around.
“That’s not fair,” William protested. “Helene, you can’t pick his side, I’m all by myself. I need you.”
“Ask Cecile. She’ll do anything you ask her to. And you’re the best here, it’s ok if we have more than you do.”
“Fine, sure.”
Cecile was sitting on the sidelines, by the thick woods bursting with green leaves behind her, with Alice and Irene, who she had just joined. “Yo, we need ya!” Will yelled at the top of his voice. Cecile was quite and timid, and the only one in the family with very long blonde curls. She was very pretty and graceful, as motherly and gentle with the babies as a very experienced mom. She had very sensitive, tender feelings, and was already eleven years old, but of course she looked much younger because she was so petite. She stood up and walked over gingerly.
“It’s two to one to my team,” William informed. “You better play well; we’re already in the lead and I want to keep it going.”
“All right,” she sounded a little nervous. She never liked soccer and would rather stay on the sidelines and help the little girls cheer lead, but she didn’t want to start an argument with William, so she had to stay.
Helene started because her team was losing. She kicked the ball so hard it flew away far, but Stephen caught up with it and so did William. They had sort of a struggle that turned into a wrestling match until Helene broke it up and took the ball toward the two maples, but Cecile intervened, running as fast as the poor girl could go to the goal, between the two apple trees on the edge of the orchard.
“Go, CiCi, go! You can do it!” urged William, running toward her to help. “Hang in there, I’m coming!”
Benedict tried to stop her, but she was too fast. She kicked as hard as she could, but Stephen was gaining on her, and was much faster still. It would have been another wrestling match with the two boys and to boot, Cecile in the midst of it all, if Helene hadn’t interrupted it again and headed toward the maples. Stephen ran to guard her from Cecile and William, but it was no use. William kicked it hard and long, with such force his leg went straight up and hurt like nobody’s business. He yelped and groaned, swaying and yelling out to the only meager glimmer of hope, “CiCi, come on, get it to the goal!”
But alas, Cecile grew even more nervous with all the pressure. She tried her best, bolting towards the ball, Raphael and Helene on her heels. Her legs were starting to feel tired and there was an awful stitch in her side, but she sped on, and kicked the ball with all her might toward the orchard. It slowed down just before the two apple trees, and for a moment it looked like they were lost, but the ball rolled right through them. She began yelling in triumph and jumping up and down, and didn’t realize that Benny was kicking the ball toward the maples like mad. He was puffing and his face was all red, but he was determined. The maples were only two yards away, he could see Cecile coming at him from the corner of his eye, the goal was only a few feet away; he kicked the ball as hard as he could and it flew between the maples. Nothing was more beautiful than that. That ball sailing along through the beautiful maple trees, the beautiful yells of triumph from Stephen and Helene. The tears were coming now, pouring down his round face. It was beautiful to be high up, being carried by his older siblings; it was beautiful to be hugged by Alice and Irene, who were shrieking, “Go, Benny! Go, Benny! You, rock, rock, rock, yeah, yeah, yeah!” And even their dance to go along with it was beautiful. It was beautiful to hear Mama’s call for dinner, which meant the game was over, and he had won the game, simply beautiful.
On the way to the house everyone was laughing and yelling at him, hugging him, slapping his back, even William, who thought that just a little bit of congratulations wouldn’t hurt, even though he lost. And the whole way home Cecile kept a hand gently gripping his shoulder and smiled her comforting smile at him.
They all trooped up the stone steps and through the light blue painted door that matched the shutters and gingerbread and entered the kitchen, sweaty, weary, but happy.
It was a small room, like the rest of the house, but cozy. The walls were painted light blue, there were white cupboards, but the cupboards under the sink were made of oak and glazed over. In the right corner there where white shelves on the walls, in the shape of a whatnot, with Mama’s china rested there. On the left side there was a long oak table and chairs. There was a small pitcher full of apple blossoms in the center. On either side of the front door there were two windows with china on the sills and white ruffled curtains. Fresh air was drifting through them. Mama stood by the stove, stirring a huge pot with of spaghetti and boiling hot water. She was petite and slender, with long blonde hair like Cecile’s, rosy lips and gentle features. Little Maria Therese was draped over her shoulder, sleeping softly. She was so tiny and pudgy with big blue eyes and short yellow curls. She was already four months old, and had been born last Christmas. She had long eye lashes and rosy cheeks.
Mama shushed them all when they came stomping in, shouting about the triumph. “You’re going to wake the baby,” she whispered. “Quiet down. How was the soccer game?”
“Mama, I scored a goal!” Benedict couldn’t help puffing out his chest.
“Yes, I saw from here,” she smiled, and her eyes turned into crescent moons.
Stephen gave him another clap on the back. His heart seemed to swell even bigger.
“Helene, take the baby for me, will you? Cecile and I will finish up getting dinner ready.”
Helene gladly took the little one in her arms and walked into the quieter living room. One-year-old Jeffrey was running around in circles. He was so little and chubby, with his yellow hair in a buzz cut. He had just learned to walk around, and could talk very well for his age, although pronouncing R’s and L’s were beyond him.
“He’wen!” He shouted with glee, jumping up and down, causing his shorts to slip down.
“Yes, darling, now go sit down and play quietly, Maria’s sleeping.”
He nodded enthusiastically and ran off to his blocks by the wooden toy trunk. The living room had worn hardwood floors, white painted walls, and a circle of big, comfy armchairs and sofas in the center with a rope rug. Behind was the wooden staircase, and to the right were wooden book shelves, an old brick fireplace, and a mahogany hutch with china and photos and a few baskets.
On the left by the bay window was the small, beautiful, glossy, cherry wood piano that Grandmere, Mama’s mother, had given them. It was for the whole family, but really it was Helene’s now. She was the only one who played, and did it all the time.
Maria Therese was beginning to stir. Helene gently lifted her down onto a sofa, and took of the heavy wool blanket to reveal a pale pink, short sleeved pajama. She was so little that Mama said it didn’t matter what she was dressed in during the day. She bent down and kissed her soft, rosy cheek. Maria smiled, her eyes sparkling. Helene left her there with her bottle full of cold, creamy milk and walked over to the piano. She sat down on the bench and settled her long, thin fingers on the keys. They flew gracefully over them, filling the room with a sweet, beautiful melody. She had never had a real piano teacher, but Grandmere had started her off, and she had mostly taught herself. She loved it so much; it was her inspiration, how she calmed down, where she found her true happiness. She only knew a few songs, but every one of them was truly beautiful, she thought. She played them over and over until she realized she had been playing for over a quarter of an hour. Maria was still holding her bottle and kicking her legs up in the air. She smiled at Helene, and resumed her kicking. Helene walked over and scooped her up, then wandered into the kitchen. Mama was setting a huge bowl of steaming pasta with butter and crushed tomato sauce on the table.
“Let me take the darling,” she said, running over for her baby. Maria smiled again as she snuggled into her Mama’s arms. Cecile laughed and stroked her short curls. Jeffrey came toddling in and Helene began tickling his pot belly. He was half screaming for her to stop and half laughing himself to death, until Mama told her to stop.
Soon Papa was coming in from the front door, being tackled by all the kids and throwing some up in the air. He gave his wife and baby daughter kisses. He was so tall, almost a head and half taller than Mama, and had brown, slightly curly hair. He was always joking and teasing everyone, and when he laughed it was so loud and deep. He taught theology and Latin at St. Thomas Aquinas College in Concord four days a week. On his days off he would work all day out in the fields. Benedict was jumping up and down, shouting, “Daddy, Daddy, I won the soccer game today! I made a goal!”
As an answer he was thrown up in the air and got a piggy back ride around the house, while the others followed them around as if he was a prince. He hung onto the broad, well muscled shoulders and made his back straight, looking proudly down at the sea of faces below him.
Finally Mama said it was time for dinner and Helene plopped Jeffy in his wooden high chair, while Papa took Irene in his lap and bounced her up and down. After the silence while everyone was praying grace (except Maria, who kept squealing and kicking her legs) instantly everyone was chatting away, and the two older boys were the only ones who weren’t talking because they were wolfing down plates of hot pasta.
“Slow down, please, boys, really, you’d think I’m not feeding you enough.”
“For heaven’s sake, Michelle, it’s what you have to expect; they’re growing a foot now every week, it seems like.”
“Daddy, Snowdrop had kittens today!”
“Oh no, I mean, great! How many?”
“Five!”
“Cecile’s taking care of them.”
“But really Snowdrop was recently a kitten herself, you see. They grow so fast.”
“She’s the white one, isn’t she?”
“Yes, and Cecile named the other ones, but they’re all girl names.”
“Well, some can be boy names and some can be girls’, I did it on purpose because I don’t know who is a male or female yet.”
“Very smart, sweetheart.”
Cecile gave him a glowing smile.
“Well, I got a lot of laundry done today, and Helene memorized all her Latin verbs!”
“Excellent! Quid tempor?”
“Err…..”
“That’s all right, honey, you’ll learn.”
“John, on your day off tomorrow you need to help mow the lawns with Fred, I already told him you would.”
Uncle Frederick was Mama’s brother. He was in his early twenties, tall and lanky, with fiery red hair. He owned the dairy at the east edge of the field.
“All right, but I still have to clean out all the stalls.”
“I just did it, Daddy!”
“Thanks, Helene. And did you ride all of the horses?”
“Well….”
“Just Chesnutt,” William budded in.
“But I’ll make sure the rest get exercise tomorrow, I promise,” she looked down at the floor, shamefaced.
Papa laughed heartily. “It’s all right, darling; she’s the only restless one anyway.”
“Yeah, she sure is, that Nutty.”
“Stephen….” Mama warned sternly.
“Sorry.”
“Daddy, did you know that Jeffy went to the potty today?”
“Really?”
“Yes, he was a very good boy, weren’t you, honey?”
“Yah, an’ Mommy gave me je’wy beans!”
Papa tweaked his nose. He gave out a cute giggle, dimples appeared in his cheeks, and Mama had a hard time resisting the urge to go over and scoop him up for a session snuggling and smooching.
“All right, well, if you’re done, come up to me at the sink with your dishes,” she announced, handing her husband her precious darling and filling up the sink with steaming water and pouring dish soap in. It made huge, fluffy fat suds.
“Come on, boys,” Papa clapped Stephen and William on their backs and began patting them, “Let’s go lock up the barn.”
Cecile wiped down the table and counters and swept, while Helene held Maria and made sure Jeffrey and Irene didn’t get into trouble. She knew Cecile would much rather have this job, she loved babies so much, but Mama always told Helene to do it since she was older. Sometimes it was annoying, Helene thought. Jeffrey was always jumping around and giggling, and wouldn’t quit being hyper and yelling at the top of his piping voice and Maria wouldn’t stop fussing because the only person she accepted was Mama. But Cecile had the “magic motherly touch” as Papa called it. She would have laughed with Jeffrey quietly and told him to calm down, letting him snuggle at her side. She would have bounced Maria Therese on her lap and thrown her up in the air and tickled her until she was in such a fit of giggles that she didn’t have time to think about her mother. Helene tried to bounce her, but she only screamed the louder and Jeffrey was hopping around in circles around her in her chair, and she knew he would start protesting loudly if she grabbed at him and pulled him toward her to snuggle. It seemed like forever until Mama came into the living room, exclaiming, and “Ooh! My sweetheart! My little daring pumpkin pie!”
Maria let out a little giggle as she snuggled down in her wool blanket and her mother’s arms. Cecile came in next, scooping up Jeffrey and holding him. “Come on, girls, let’s give these babies baths,” Mama kissed her baby girl’s forehead.
They all got the little ones into the bathtub upstairs. They mostly played with the huge wads of soap suds, while Mama tried to shampoo their heads. They brushed their teeth thoroughly, and got them into their cozy, fuzzy, soft pajamas. Mama brought them all downstairs and settled them on the big comfy sofa for cuddle time and reading. She sat with Maria Therese, lying across her lap, nursing noisily.
Helene and Cecile were sitting on the piano bench by the bay window, watching for the boys. A soft darkness was falling over the lush green lawn, the horizon glowing with the fiery sunlight, and glittering stars were appearing in the deep velvet sky. The duck pond, surrounded by overgrown grass and cattails, was like a crystal clear pool in the moonlight, which illuminated the lilies.
“Is it not truly beautiful?” Cecile looked up into her older sister’s eyes.
“No, I quite agree.”
Cecile nodded, pushing her long curls over her narrow shoulders. Then she did a very unexpected thing. She leaned over and hugged Helene, a quick one, but a tight embrace.
“I’ve waited a long time to do that. I look up to you,” she said very quietly, almost in a whisper, blushing slightly.
Helene was quite surprised. “Oh, well, thank you, very much.”
She was a little confused. Cecile was so shy and although very affectionate, she was very embarrassed to be.
“I’d never have thought that you looked up to me…..”
“Really? I’ve always admired you,” and here she began to blush furiously. “But I can’t ever be like you. Mama always wants me to help her. Ever since I was little I truly was very scared of going exploring in the woods for miles with you, and I didn’t want to ride horses like you did. It’s still terrifying. And I get sick when we go in the tractor with Uncle Fred, oh dear, I shouldn’t have said that, he is a good driver…..”
“Oh, don’t be silly. I’ve seen you looking deathly pale when he flies over those jumps, and I know Mama wasn’t very happy with him. Don’t be ashamed to be scared, we’re not all dare devils. Well, anyway, why don’t you just stay home then?”
“Because, you don’t know how awful it feels. I did it for a while, but I felt left out. You would always come home, laughing and going on about how fun everything was, and even though I felt like staying home, I felt very left out, even if the time with Mama and the babies was special. I liked you, and I wanted to do everything you did, but I couldn’t. The boys make fun of me if I try to be all stubborn like you, because I had never acted like that, it just wasn’t me. And they can always beat me. I’m left to just sit there and feel miserable while you go off and have horse races….I mean, it’s not your fault, I wouldn’t expect anyone to realize….”
Helene felt awful. She had no idea what a terrible older sister she had been, she told herself.
“Oh, honey, I didn’t mean to, if I had known, I wouldn’t have acted like I didn’t care….how could I be so awful to you?”
Cecile suddenly looked guilty. “Oh no, why did I say all those things, I should have kept them to myself,” she buried her face in her hands.
“No, no, I should have known ages ago. Is there anything else?”
She nodded. “Now I feel forced to do everything everybody tells me to, because if I don’t people will make fun of me.”
“If I had known how terrible it was for you, I would have really reprimanded the boys. I hope you know that. They’re always teasing me, teasing everyone, I just thought….I laugh at their taunts all the time….I should have put myself in your position. I’m so sorry, darling.”
“It’s not your fault,” Cecile replied shakily, with a little sigh. “I feel better now.”
“Yeah, I bet. Listen, I promise to make sure you’re always feeling all right, ok? I’ll stay with you more often here, and don’t feel like you have to be like me, I’m not the lovely person you think I am. You are just perfectly beautiful the way you are, I’m not better, you are the lovely one. Just have confidence in yourself. You don’t need to act like other people to be beautiful, what is really beautiful is the real you. Just remember that.”
Tears were swimming in her small, sharp blue eyes. “Thanks, Helene.” She gave a weak smile.
“It’s my pleasure, darling.”
Cecile stood up, walking away and up the stairs, smiling back at her sister.
