When The Rain Falls

Chapter Twenty-Eight

George didn't reappear until the next morning, the day of the picnic. I knew his trip to the village would take longer than first planned due to his stop at the Marlow's house, but I had not expected him to be gone all day. I tried my best to distract myself by studying or reading, but it didn't do much good.

By the next morning, I was itching to find out just what he had discovered and wanted to venture down to the kitchen to find him myself, but I couldn't. Father had planned for the Seabrooks and the Marlows to arrive before midday, which left me no extra time to find George. Instead, I ate breakfast slowly, trying to pace myself a little more so that it wouldn't threaten to make a reappearance once the picnic started.

I dressed without his help, forgoing the tie and jacket that I had worn to the supper. This picnic would be an informal affair, so the airs and graces of the other night didn't have to be exacted in the same way. For that, I was grateful. With the summer sun still burning stronger than it had in days, not having to wear a choking collar and tie was a welcomed relief.

Also, knowing that Andrew would be at the picnic certainly took some of the pressure off me. I could spend some time with him and not have to worry too much about what was going on around me. Father wanted me to speak with Clara Marlow, and I was more than happy to do so if Andrew was there, too. He had the ability to turn an uncomfortable situation into a funny one, and I needed that.

I ran a brush through my hair, taking several deep breaths to calm my rising nerves. Despite the lack of formality, and knowing Andrew would make things a little easier, my palms were already slick with sweat. This was my last chance to get on Father's good side. I couldn't mess that up.

A short, sharp knock at the door echoed through the room, and I almost dropped my hairbrush in surprise.

"Come in," I said, hoping it was George.

The door slowly creaked open to reveal not George, but Father standing in the doorway, bold as brass. He hadn't forgone the formalities the way I had and still wore his jacket and tie over a crisp white shirt without a single blemish. Even his hair had been slicked back. Father looked at me, a small raise in his eyebrow at my less-than-perfect appearance.

"Good morning, Nathaniel."

"Good morning, sir."

"And how are you feeling today? I take it we will not be having any repeats of the other evening."

"No, sir. I'm fine."

"Good." He nodded his head. "I will forgive your current attire if it means we do not end up with a repeat of the other day. Our guests will be arriving soon, so make sure that you are downstairs shortly."

"Yes, sir. I will be down soon."

"Good." He cleared his throat. "Remember what I said, Nathaniel. This is your last chance."

With that, Father turned on the spot and left the room, leaving the door open. I sighed. Our conversations had turned into nothing more than warnings from him and short replies from me. I couldn't even bring myself to call him anything other than sir most of the time. He never stopped calling me Nathaniel. There was no love in our exchanges, merely conversations that couldn't be avoided. From where I was standing, we were no longer father and son. Simply two people who occupied the same house.

I wondered if our relationship ever stood a chance of being repaired or if it would stay the same for the rest of our lives. Perhaps there truly was no fixing a relationship that had been fractured since the beginning.

I put the brush through my hair one last time and left my room, hoping I would come across George before the Marlows arrived. Alice emerged from Rebecca's room, leaving the door slightly open as Rebecca wanted us to.