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Jessa thought it had been bad before, not knowing for sure Sidney was gone. Now it was even worse. The morning after the dance with Ewell, she woke up but couldn’t get out of bed. She spent the morning crying and sleeping. She couldn’t even talk to her mother.
The days passed. Jessa spent most of them locked up in her room. She refused to see anyone, even Ewell when he came calling. What had she been thinking in encouraging him? She didn’t want the second best, especially not right now.
After the first couple days of moping, she sat with the family at meals but ate very little. Her already thin frame became even thinner.
Two weeks later, Mrs. Poler sat Jessa down and knelt in front of her. “Jessamine Louise Poler, you need to snap out of this. Yes, Sidney was wrong to do what he did, but it is not the end of the world, and you need to move on.”
Jessa scowled. “I love him, Mother. How can I move on from that?”
Mrs. Poler sighed. “It’s possible. The first man I loved is not the one I married.”
Jessa’s mouth fell open. “What happened?”
“He died.”
Jessa sucked in a breath. “How?”
Mrs. Poler licked her lips. “We’d been courting for four months when John went to fight for the South in the War Between the States. He fought for two years, writing me every chance he could. I faithfully waited for him. The longest I had ever waited for a letter was about six weeks, so when two months went by after he told me he was headed for Gettysburg, I started to get worried. Then another month passed. And another. Finally, his mother came over.” Mrs. Poler closed her eyes and swiped at the tear running down her right cheek.
“Mrs. Harrison told me they had received a letter from a friend he had met in the army. John was dead.”
Jessa wrapped her arms around her mother. “I’m sorry, Mother.”
Mrs. Poler tried to smile as she pulled back from the embrace. “Me, too. It took a while, but life still moved on. A year passed before I met your father. We fell in love quickly and got married quickly. And...well, you know the rest.”
Jessa nodded. “Yes, I do. But how did you recover from it?”
“Time heals some wounds. Others scab over and you just learn to live with them. Losing someone you love usually is more of a scab.”
Jessa’s lip trembled. “I’ll try.”
Now it was Mrs. Poler’s turn to hug her daughter. “I’m always here for you.”
***
Jessa did try. She went to a dance but danced only three times, once with Jason, once with her father, and once with Mitchell Young—who was still in town.
She visited her friends and had a good time for a while. Then they both mentioned their beaux, and Jessa stood up.
“I have to go. Thank you for a lovely visit.”
Carlina’s forehead wrinkled. “Did we say something to upset you?”
“No,” Jessa said tersely. “I need to go.”
Marie searched her face. “I’m sorry if we did upset you. It wasn’t our intention.”
“Thank you. I’ll see you two around.” Jessa hurried out of the parlor, grabbed her shawl, and let herself out of the house. On the porch, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her mother was right, she had to get over this somehow. But how?
She scurried home, not caring that her dress was getting unnecessarily wet from the rain. It fit her mood, and if she got pneumonia and died, so be it.
***
Another week went by, and one evening, Jason approached her after supper. “Can I talk to you?”
Jessa shrugged. “Sure.”
“In the parlor?”
Jessa huffed, stalked to the parlor, and sat on the chair furthest from the settee. The settee where she had received her first kiss. It had been wonderful and so sweet. She snapped her eyes back open. “What do you want to say?”
Jason sat in the chair beside her. “I’m worried about you.”
“Why?”
He rubbed the palms of his hands on his legs. “I am afraid you are letting yourself get bitter toward Sidney and that you will never fully recover.”
Jessa crossed her arms. “You know nothing. I am doing fine. I won’t get bitter. I will recover. I will move on. I will do whatever I need to in order to get you and Mother and Father and everyone to stop telling me how to live my own life. I’m fine!” She stood up. “I don’t need your help or anyone else’s.”
Jason held his hand out to her to stop her from leaving. “God can help you more than anyone—”
Jessa gritted her teeth. “I don’t care! I don’t want God’s help either! Leave me alone!”
She stomped out of the room, up the stairs, and to her bedroom. Once there, she slammed the door and stood there, clenching her fists until her arms twitched from the force of her grip. How could he be so self-righteous to suggest such a thing? He knew she didn’t want anything to do with God. He knew he should never bring God up into a conversation. Ever. So why had he?
Jessa picked up the book from her desk and threw it against the wall. She didn’t need God or anyone else. She could do it all by herself with no one else. She would live as a spinster and warn other young women away from men. It wasn’t worth the pain of what would happen if you fell in love and then they abandoned you. Nothing could be worth that pain. Not lifelong companionship, not financial security, not even children of your own. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing!
Jessa dropped herself onto her bed and sobbed herself to sleep.
The sun shone brightly into her room when she groaned herself awake. Her head and body felt groggy, like she had barely slept. She looked at her clock. Ten o’clock. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. A sudden flood of memories from the night before came pouring in as she caught sight of the dress she still wore.
She winced as the corset pinched her. She slowly lowered her feet to the floor, got up, and forced herself to get dressed into new clothes.
Today, she would start her new life of not needing anyone’s help and warning girls of the dangers of men. A slight, sad smile appeared on her face in the mirror as she brushed out her hair one hundred times. A simple, tight bun went in and she nodded abruptly. The perfect spinster look. Gray dress—dug out of the back of her wardrobe—and tight bun, all she needed now was a pair of glasses. But maybe that was overdoing it, so this would do.