Tenth Day of Christmas #3
“He’s been really happy,” Anika said, putting away her phone.
“But he needs to absolve himself of past errors and make peace with you before claiming his next chapter. I know how bad he is at expressing himself. He’s a doer, not a talker.
And I’ve been so worried that this grand gesture of his could be misunderstood.
You might have assumed that . . .” She met Kestrel with a direct gaze. “That he wants you back.”
The shock of it sent bright blue cold surging up Kestrel’s legs into her middle, pooling in her chest. But a hot, angry part of her brain thought, Well, joke’s on them, because I never assume anyone wants me!
She made herself smile harder, though perhaps it looked less humorous and more challenging because Anika flinched.
“I moved on a long time ago,” said Kestrel.
Anika nodded. “You’re so good at moving on. I always admired that about you. How you were dating so quickly after Hank? Like, the very next weekend! At least, bringing home other men.”
“How do you know what I did?”
“I don’t remember, somebody must have told me.
But regardless, you don’t get stuck. A really admirable quality.
That’s not the Kern way, so it’s harder for Hank to see how you’ve moved on, hence his confusion, assuming you were still pining, instead of—” Anika snapped her fingers. “Moving on in your deft way.”
Kestrel held her breath, more outraged that Anika would think she could fall for such false flattery than by the insults nestled inside them.
Her blood felt hot and thick, melting the chill, speeding her pulse and sending her thoughts crackling.
Normally Kestrel would be fleeing this massive conflagration of interpersonal conflict, but just now, she felt solid and still and even confident. It was strange, but also such a relief.
“What if Hank didn’t come back for me, but then changed his mind?” Kestrel just managed to keep from shouting it. “Maybe once he was with me again, he just couldn’t help falling for me all over again?”
After the past three nights, the idea wasn’t inconceivable.
Kestrel was reminded of Mr. Darcy’s first disastrous proposal to Elizabeth Bennet: In vain I have struggled .
. . You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you .
. . How his desire for her went against his will, reason, and character, and despite the degradation and inferiority of her family, his love persisted.
If Hank was Darcy, maybe Kestrel could be an Elizabeth after all—a girl someone might fall for despite all the obstacles of family and personal history and boring old logic. She could be the kind of woman a gent would adore and fight for.
Anika stared defiantly back, but there was a tension around her eyes.
“Oh, I get it now,” said Kestrel. “That’s why you came. Because you’re afraid that after seeing me, Hank might ignore his family’s advice, break up with Greta Great-Family, and choose the weirdo commune girl.”
Anika’s eyes began filling with tears. She sniffed and turned away, as if embarrassed by her emotion.
“Yes. We are afraid. You seduced him before. It could happen again. And it hurts—” She pressed a hand to her heart.
“The idea of losing him hurts so much. My poor mom is in anguish. But also I know, with every fiber of my being, that if Hank were to choose you over his entire family, eventually it would destroy him.”
“Why do you do that?” said Kestrel, still boiling. “Why do you make it a choice between his family and me?”
Anika gave a bleak little laugh and wiped her face with her sleeve.
“You know it is. You’re not stupid, Kestrel, just selfish to think choosing you could make him happier.
Nothing is more important than family. And even if he might be happy with you for a time, if you take him away from his family and home, he will resent you for the rest of his life. ”
The truth of that pierced Kestrel to her core, and in that pain, her defenses flared up, screaming at her to say things she would definitely regret.
“I’m still pretty confused about why you came all this way to tell me this, Anika, but nevertheless, I cannot express enough how elated I am that there is no chance I will ever be a part of your family. Y’all are a toxic stew of ego, bad teeth, and manure.”
“Hey!” Anika pointed a shaky finger at her. “Manure is a natural part of life on a farm!”
“You’re right, and I regret that comment, because the last thing I meant to insult was manure.”
Anika slowly shook her head. Her tears were all dried up. “I pity you, Kestrel, but that does not mean you deserve our Hank.”
“Yeah, I know I don’t deserve him. But neither do you. He’s not wonderful because he does what his family tells him to do. He is wonderful because that’s who he is. Let him go and be himself.”
“Take your own advice, Kestrel. Let him go and be himself. Look at you!” Anika laughed, eyeing Kestrel up and down.
“Do you think Hank belongs in this bizarre place? Dependable, honest, hard-working, loyal, realistic Hank, playing dress-up in one of your historical fantasies? I worried you might misunderstand Hank’s reasons for coming here, but I never imagined you could fool yourself into believing that he belonged here with you. ”
Anika paused, leaving a space in the air for Kestrel to respond.
But she had no response. Standing there in her corset and gown, she felt ugly-naked and pathetically defenseless.
In fact, yes, she had begun to believe that Hank actually did fit in Austenland.
Come on, Kestrel, the boy from Wisconsin who played piano to avoid wearing a nativity costume was supposed to suddenly feel comfy wearing breeches and enjoying high tea in drawing rooms?
She felt like such a fool. Because she loved it here and because she wanted to love Hank, she’d deluded herself that they were totally in sync.
“I should have known better than to come,” said Anika, “but I’m a feeling person, and I sincerely wanted to spare you some heartache.
I know it’s hard for you, but try to set aside your own wants and think about what’s best for Hank.
He has a chance at real happiness and stability, once you are out of his life for good. ”
With that Anika walked out the door and shut it, leaving Kestrel alone in a room full of breakable things.
Kestrel let her body imagine pulling all the crockery from the shelves and slamming it to the stone floor to shatter, tipping over barrels and kicking through crates till she was exhausted and nothing remained unbroken.
Except Kestrel. Kestrel refused to break.
If you take him away from his family and home, he will resent you for the rest of his life.
The Kern Family had lived on that plot of land for over a hundred years, growing and building a legacy to be proud of.
That farm was in Hank’s blood, in his muscles, in his bones.
Kestrel had no family, no connections, nothing to recommend her—aside from the miraculous fact that when she finally left the pantry, she hadn’t broken a thing.
Gussie was in the corridor waiting for her, eyes full of delight.
“Kestrel! What did Mrs. Wattlesbrook say?”
“Leave me alone, Gussie.”
Kestrel kept walking, refusing to notice how Gussie wilted at her unnecessary curtness. Kestrel knew she’d torture herself over that later, but there was currently no space in her body for any feeling but that white-hot blaze of fury.
She had no assets, no education, no long-term goals, no home. But since coming here, she had started to build a little cottage in her heart—the sensation of a starter home, a feeling that she had a place. With a flick of reality, Anika had effectively reduced that to ashes.
If you try to take him away from his family and home . . .
Had Anika been telling the truth about Hank’s engagement?
Maybe she was a big fat liar. Maybe she didn’t know the difference between her own brother’s heart and a raw chicken liver.
But then again, Anika had said some clearly true things.
Hank would always belong on the Kern Family Farm, and Kestrel never would.
Maybe closure was Hank making amends before finally marrying a good girl from a great family.
He will resent you for the rest of his life . . .
Kestrel physically swiped at the air in front of her face, as if to shove all thoughts out of her head.
And instantly a sharp memory blazed in her—Hank, standing in the Kern family kitchen, letting his family send her away on the day before Christmas Eve.
Kestrel could forgive just about everything except inaction.
The passivity of it turned her stomach. The betrayal pierced her anew.
He hadn’t stood up for her. He either hadn’t been strong enough or he hadn’t loved her enough, and she couldn’t tolerate either one.
Everything hurt. Kestrel wanted to scream. She’d done this. She’d put her heart at the mercy of someone else, like she’d sworn she never would again.
I realized the moment I saw you that this was a mistake. Hank himself had told her that after Hoodman Blind. And at the White Stag: I have no intentions of trying anything with you. How had she let herself ignore the evidence and tell herself a different story?
It was this place. Austenland made the fantasy and reality hard to tell apart till she’d started to believe in fairy tales. Brainless, gullible Kestrel.
She heard voices in the front hall and so veered to climb the service stairs, going the back way to her room.
She couldn’t bear to sit alone and sulk, but her whole body vibrated with fury and self-loathing, and she was afraid of what she might say around other people.
She’d already snapped at Gussie. She needed to be put away where she couldn’t hurt anyone else.
A maid passing by bobbed a curtsy, and Kestrel imagined punching her in the face.