“Papa, quiet down!” Her mother was soothing her father, trying to get him to calm down some. “You’re upsetting Minnie even more. You must calm down.”
“I can’t be calm!” Her father thundered, making her cringe. She knew he was nearly as upset as she was but she didn’t think she could take it today. She got up and went in the house, making her way to her room on deadened feet. She could hear her father still storming outside, his emotions overwhelming him. He had cared for her husband, too. Even his wife’s tears didn’t calm him. She expected him to burst out in his own tears at any moment. When he quieted down, she assumed that’s what had happened.
Minnie dropped herself on her bed face first. She was glad Billy was asleep in the cradle near her bed. She didn’t have the resolve to do anything for him right now. She pressed her face into the bed and let her tears come. She sobbed for many minutes, her marriage and love for her husband running through her mind over and over and over.
She felt like she would never recover from this. Her dear husband, Tom, had been one of the men killed at the Battle of Averasboro, NC. He was shot by the enemy and left in the field like the rest of the men that had died there. It would be impossible to bring his body home. She didn’t know why. It’s what they told her. She didn’t think Averasboro was that far from her little town but she didn’t question their authority. They weren’t going to listen to her anyway.
He’d died a hero and President Lincoln had even sent her a note expressing his dismay at his loss and that he had been a strong and courageous soldier.
It didn’t ease her pain. The president couldn’t bring him back. No one could bring him back. Not even God. He didn’t do that kind of stuff anymore.
Her emotions peaked, she sobbed for nearly an hour. She didn’t know when she would ever stop. Her tears would eventually dry up and she would have no more to shed. She had never felt such intense sorrow in all her 22 years. Where would she go? Who would she rely on? Her parents?
The thought made her cry harder. She was a married woman who had lived for three years with a man who showed her what love was all about. Now he was gone, ripped from her life abruptly. Her tears were intense and her bed shook as her body did.
“Lord!” She cried out. “How could this happen?”
Minnie heard a shuffling behind her and realized she had probably woken Billy up. She used the sheet on the bed to dry her tears and pushed herself up. She was going to be strong for her little boy. Even if it meant she could not show her sorrow in front of him. He was a year and a half old and wouldn’t understand why she was in such despair. It might harm him to see her so upset. She composed herself and went to his cradle, where he was sitting up, rubbing his eyes.
“Mama!” he called out to her. “Mama!”
“I’m here, sweet one,” she said, reaching into the cradle and picking him up. He was getting so heavy. “You’re already wake? Did you get enough sleep?”
“Mama cry.” He was staring into her eyes and she sat on the bed, resting him on her lap. His eyes were huge and blue, gazing at her intently. She brushed his blond hair back from his eyes and kissed his forehead.
“I’ll be okay, little man. I will be. You don’t have to worry.”
“No cry, mama!” Billy wrapped his arms around her neck and hugged her tight. “No cry!”
“I won’t, my son.” She buried her face in his small neck and shoulder. “I won’t cry anymore.”
But she knew she would.
Minnie hadn’t gotten any sleep at all for almost four days. Since the telegraph arrived, all she could do was wallow in her misery. Her mother was still being encouraging and supportive but her father was still upset and sullen. His mood was dark and angry. “He was a good boy!” He kept exclaiming whenever the subject was broached. “He was always a good boy! Good shot, too! Took him hunting! He was the best at it, best young boy I’d taught.”
There were many other things that had impressed him about Tom. He never failed to mention them. Minnie often wondered if he would ever stop talking about her late husband. It hurt every time she mentioned him. She wanted to avoid the subject and not think about it. She would never come out of mourning if he didn’t. The fact that she was now a widow with a fatherless boy was bad enough but to have it constantly ranted on about by her father was more unbearable than she could imagine.
She dragged herself out of bed, pulling on her robe as she did every morning. Billy had a strange schedule but she was glad of it. He slept more often than other babies she’d heard of. Her mother had appeared a little envious of it. Billy slept through the night and often into the next morning, allowing her to do other things before he woke up.