Somehow, Zechariah, Sarah, and Carrie all survived.  There were a few workers who stuck around.  Zechariah wasn’t able to pay them, but he agreed that if they stayed to help, they would get a share as they started to make a profit later.  Since he had taken such good care of them before, and since they didn’t know where else to go, they agreed. 

I saw a lot less of them in the bedroom, though.  Sarah made her own bed.  She got herself ready in the morning.  She tended to Carrie alone.  Zechariah was always around, but he was never exactly there, either.

I watched Carrie grow up.  Zechariah’s distance affected her.  She’d come bounding into the bedroom to find him sitting in a chair, staring absently out the window.  She’d ask if he liked her dress or if he wanted to dance, and he’d just grunt and wave his hand dismissively.  Carrie would always walk out with a crestfallen face.  It made me wish that I could move my wooden legs and dance with her, but I knew even that would never replace a father’s love. Who would Carrie have to dance with?

Her mother would tell her stories about how things were supposed to be.

I never knew what those stories were supposed to accomplish.  The ‘way things were supposed to be’ were no longer a possibility.  It was filling the girl’s head with false hopes and dreams.  Sure, I wanted Carrie to hope for a better future, but it would take an uphill battle to get there.  The dances, the pretty dresses, the horses to ride leisurely were a distant dream.

Sarah made it sound like Carrie was owed these things.

When Carrie was a young lady, I wasn’t surprised when I found out that she was falling for an older man.

“He’s everything I’ve ever dreamed about in a husband,” she confided to Sarah one night, as they sat on the edge of Sarah’s bed.

“But does he love you?”

“He says he does.  He says I’m beautiful and that he wants his babies to look just like me.”

“What does he do for a living?”

“He’s a planation owner, just like us.  Except it was a smaller plantation, so the Yanks somehow missed it and didn’t cover it salt.  So he’s doing well for himself.  I could finally afford all those pretty dresses for you and me!”

Sarah smiled.  “You deserve so much goodness.  But you shouldn’t marry for money.”

“Mama,” Carrie smiled back, her smile patient but strained, “it’s not like men are fighting for my hand in marriage.  I don’t hate him, so I’m sure I can learn to love him.  He has money.  He can take care of us.”

Sarah was quiet for a while.

“I know this isn’t what you wanted for me, Mama,” Carrie said.  “You wanted me to have a fairy tale ending, with love and money and everything.  This is the next best thing.”

“If you are sure this is what you want, Carrie, then you have my blessing.  I have heard of his family and it is a strong line.  You would do well to marry into it.”

Carrie smiled, a full smile this time.  “Thank you, Mama.”

“There is just one thing,” Sarah said.  Carrie’s smile deflated.

Sarah rose and walked over to me.  She ran her hand gently over my top. 

“Your grandfather Jed built this dresser for your grandmother.  He took so much care in crafting it.  He gave it to your father when we were wed, and now I want to give it to you as a wedding present.  It was such a comfort for me to have such an elegant piece when we had nothing.  I hope it’s a reminder to you of your family’s love and legacy.”

“Oh, Mama!” Carrie said with a gasp, “You want me to take your dresser?  Can you afford another one?”

“If there is anything that life has taught me, it’s that we can always make do with less than what we think.  I want you to have something special.  Something of your family’s.  This is the best physical object I can give you.”

Sarah then walked over to her daughter and embraced her.  “But know that the love I give you is even stronger than this dresser.”

Carrie clung to her mother.  “Yes, Mama.  I know.”