I can’t do this! Being near Lizzie and Sarah is too confusing. With them, I am Jane. But Jane is dead.She sank down to her knees and landed on a tree root. The pain was immediate, but she ignored it as grief overwhelmed her.
I can’t be near them. I have to say goodbye.She couldn’t speak the words out loud and soon she heard footsteps.Jane is dead. I am Abigail now. I can’t look back. I have to look to the future.
“Are you okay?” Little Sarah closed the distance quickly and dropped down to meet Abigail on the ground.
“No, this is too hard for me. I can’t do this.” Tears poured down her face. The pull to unleash her truth to Sarah was overruled by logic.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know my grandmother meant that much to you.” Her voice was strained. “I just thought that you were being supportive, but you are really struggling, huh?” Sarah narrowed her eyes.
Abigail didn’t know how to respond. A young child would not fully understand the gravity of this situation. Every time she opened her mouth, her words betrayed her youth.
“Even though you are younger than me, and usually you get all the attention, I was just hoping that maybe today you could just focus on me.” Sarah stood and brushed the leaves off her dark grey dress. Abigail couldn’t meet her gaze.It’s better this way.
“Well, then maybe we shouldn’t be friends anymore if you feel that way.” Abigail’s chest tightened. The last thing she wanted was to push away her family.But they are my old family.It’s just too hard,she thought as Sarah stormed past her back towards the church.
Halfway back, Sarah turned and shouted. “Fine! I don’t need you anyways, especially if you are going to act like a little brat!”
It’s better this way.Her thoughts failed to fully convince her that this was the right decision. Sarah disappeared back inside the church leaving Abigail alone once more.
“Maybe in time I can be around them,” she whispered to a ladybug walking across a leaf.
The deafening sound of her pulse quieted down, and soon her breathing calmed as well.
I don’t know why this happened to me, but it’s done. I can’t look back now. I can’t be near Lizzie. And I definitely can’t be near Sarah.She stood and brushed dirt off her sore knees. She faced back towards the church and watched through the window as the funeral attendees mingled with plates full of food.
“My name is Abigail Winslow. Jane Abernathy-Hoffman is dead. I don’t know what the future holds, but I am not going to waste another moment focused on the past.”
In her heart, she wanted to believe the words spoken into the wind, but she knew that it was going to take time to fully adjust to her new life.You can do this.
She squared her shoulders and straightened her dress a final time before making her way back to the church, her head held high and her feelings pushed down low.
I can do this. My name is Abigail. Jane is no more.
For the first time she believed it. Her mind and body united as she fully-grasped her new identity. She quickly found her new mother and asked to be held. Abigail burrowed her face into her mother’s waiting neck, and through her brown hair, she could see Sarah crying to Lizzie in the corner.
Goodbye, my loves. Forever.
“Abigail, are you sure you want to go? You were the brightest in your class,” her mother insisted. “You could stay here, meet a nice man, and teach all the other youngsters,” Sarah insisted.
She stood in the door frame, twisting the end of her long brown hair in her fingers as Abigail carefully inspected her dresses to decide which ones would make the cut to be packed.
Her suitcase was already almost full of fabric to jump-start her dressmaker business in the South. Abigail looked away from the barrage of fabrics and at her mother’s sad, brown eyes. Abigail recognized she was struggling with her leaving.
“Yes, Mother, don’t worry about me. New Orleans is the place to be right now.” The last thing Abigail wanted was to tie herself down to a menial job. After discovering her gift, she had chosen to spend her time learning as much as she could, rather than waste her time playing childish games.
Every time she looked in the mirror, she was reminded that this life technically didn’t belong to her. Sarah wasn’t her real mother. Abigail needed to get far away and start fresh, withoutthe guilt that followed her as she lived her life. A loose strand of her brown hair fell into her face, and she blew it out of the way as she worked to pack.
“What about New York City? It’s so much closer, and we would see you far more often.” Sarah’s voice cracked.
Abigail stopped packing and embraced her mother. “I’ll be fine, I can’t explain it, but I need to get out of this town. Something about being here…” Abigail released her mother and thought carefully about how to communicate her thoughts. “I don’t know; I feel unsettled.”
She was unsettled living with a man and woman to whom she felt only partially attached. Abigail felt like she was a fake, living a lie. As much as she wanted to feel like Sarah was her mother, she knew deep down her real mother was dead, having never met her since died in childbirth.
Sarah retreated to her post in the doorway. “You have always been extraordinary. Even Sally thinks so. You have spent many years learning dressmaking from her. I know youthinkyou are going to be able to support yourself, but it is dangerous to be an unmarried woman.”
“Oh, Sarah, leave the poor girl alone,” her father said. “She has a dream, and she needs to chase it.” Gerry came in gently, pushed past his wife, and gave Abigail a wink.
His dark hair and grey beard reminded Abigail of her own real father, Eduard. Gerry rolled up the sleeves of his red flannel shirt and tucked the loose fabric into the back of his jeans. All his quirks reminded Abigail of Eduard, which made it easy for her to truly love Gerry. Abigail smiled fondly at him, thankful he came to her rescue.
