Page 34 of Fragile Wicked Things
"Keep trying, Granny."
Auntie's face contorted with exertion. Her lips and tongue pushed to get a word out, but nothing came, and she gave up.
"Let's keep talking, maybe that'll get her going. Rochester comes every night and says she needs him because the skeletal staff can't do enough for her. He tries feeding her, but she never takes it. He reads to her but I don't think she likes what he's reading because she gets all agitated. I think it's good, getting her worked up like that. Maybe you'll get so angry at Mr. Rochester that you'll say something, huh, Granny?"
"I didn't realize he had been here," I said.
"He said he wants to take care of Auntie the way she took care of him. That Mr. Rochester, well, he's an honorable man, still paying me even though I spend most of my time here."
There were many contradictions to Rochester; a brute to me at times, yet warm when it pleased him, loving and compassionate to Auntie. Thomas mistook my look of sheer shock for uneasiness.
"I'm not taking advantage of Mr. Rochester," he said.
"I never thought that. It's just that...well, as you said, he's an honorable man."
My affection towards Thomas bewildered me as did my feelings towards Rochester. One proved an impossibility. The other led to uncertainty. Thomas was a good man, consistent in his treatment of me and others, while I never knew where I stood with Rochester. Still, I remained drawn to him despite his darkness. The wall clock ticked past dinnertime. It would be hours before Rochester would show and, without confessing the truth about my extended stay, I told Thomas I'd keep him company in the meantime.
Auntie drifted off to sleep, sometimes rousing fitfully from what must have been a nightmare. I confided to Thomas about my childhood nightmares, hesitating before I told him about that night I saw the red-haired woman outside my window. Then, I blurted out, “I could have sworn I felt her there the night Auntie was hurt, that it had been the same woman out in the barn and then by my side, trying to suffocate me. She would have succeeded had Rochester's horse…" Here I stopped, realizing that although the horse saved me from that mysterious creature, it was responsible for his grandmother's injury.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking," I said.
We sat in silence.
"You ever been to Chicago?" he said.
I shook my head from side to side.
Chicago was far bigger than New Orleans, Thomas went on to tell me. Blacks migrated from the south, and others came from the rest of the world, settling in New York City and then traveling there. He spoke about the commuter rail lines, The Black Belt, and the development of high rises that housed working-class families and the poor. He spoke of Richard Wright, jazz music, and the bakery on State Street with the best sticky buns. He knew so much about his home. Sometimes, I felt like a visitor or a foreigner wherever I went.
Thomas regaled me with the accounts of his life growing up in Chicago, how he used to skip school with his high school running buddy and hang out in a pool hall until his mother went out looking for him, and she'd "whoop" his behind. He made me laugh with his imitation of his mother, and then I caught myself and quieted down, not wishing to wake Auntie. Then, I noticed Rochester standing by the door. He looked first at me, then Thomas, and his body went rigid.
"Jane, I wasn't expecting to find you here. Catherine is alone. You should go."
"Yes, Mr. Rochester," I said.
"I didn't mean for you to go, Jane. Thomas, you need a break from the hospital. Have yourself a proper meal at Thornfield and a change of clothes."
It was not right to send Thomas away and let me stay, but it would also have been wrong to mistake it for a suggestion.
Thomas looked down at his feet, nodded his head and finally stood. "I suppose a break is welcomed. I'll see you later, Jane."
Rochester sat in Thomas’s chair the moment he left. "You two were laughing earlier. What was amusing?" Rochester said.
"Thomas was telling me about his youth."
"His youth? He's in his early twenties. He's still in his youth. "
"He told me you're caring for Auntie, ensuring she sees the best doctors."
"I'm caring for her the way she always did me."
"That's rather kind, Edward."
"I'm working on new talents—compassion, patience and selflessness. I understand these to be great qualities you admire. I'm afraid I've made you blush."
I turned away; concealing smiles from him had become a habit of late and regarded it as nothing more than a schoolgirl crush. Not sure what to do next, I busied myself with the unnecessary task of placing a blanket over Auntie, which I'm sure looked absurd as she already had a heavy blanket over her.
"Jane, I implore you to tell me what you're thinking."
