In Someone Else’s Shoes

In Her Place

The stepmother saw perfectly well that Alice wanted nothing to do with marrying the widowernot because he had a small daughter, not because he was older, but because she was terribly afraid of him.

His sharp, steely eyes pierced into Alices heart, and fear made it thump wildly, as if the flurry of his gaze was pelting it with arrows. Alices eyes dropped to the carpet and clung there, only rising after long reluctance, glistening with tears when they finally did.

Those tears tumbled down her red cheeks in waves. Her hands shook, and her small fists seemed ready to fight off both her stepmother and the prospective husband shed been foisted upon.

Her treacherous tongue, curse it, stammered, Ill go.

Well, thats settled then, the stepmother declared with satisfaction. Such a home, such a manone would be mad not to! Why, he treated his late wife as if she were a porcelain doll. Poor thing, she was helpless, frail, always wheezing. Hed outpace her on walksthree steps for him, one for herthen stop and gather her in his arms, quiet and kind, not like your mad father. ”

When she expected a baby, nobody ever saw her outside. She just lay abed, and after the girl was born, he rose through every night to care for the little one while she dwindled to shadows.

His mother recited it endlessly: You, youre as hale as May, rosy with good health. Hell sit you in the parlour, show you off. Youre clever, hardworking, you can plait, reap, and weave. It would be sin to marry you off to a young buckhed only be wild and foolish, but this man, well, hes an open book, no secrets, everyone in town knows him. Youre a lucky girl!

Ill brew some cider for the occasion. No need for a wedding feastbest not disturb the late wife with dancing. He even said not to fuss with a dowry, the house is already brimming.

Frederick married his first wife, Grace, for love, everyone knew she was fragile. His mother always said he ought to have a vibrant woman to match his strength, but he could never be persuaded, not by friends, nor his own sense. Only Grace would do.

Rumour had it hed been enchanted, for only a spell could prompt a man to make a sickroom his lifes purpose.

The doctors said Graces lungs were as thin as rice paperany cold led to inflammation, then to asthma, or worse.

Frederick believed his love could keep death at bay. He nursed and cherished her, and for a time after the wedding, all was bliss.

They were the glowing young couple everyone envied. When Grace fell pregnant, however, it was as though shed been turned inside out. Weakness gripped her, so deep she couldnt wash or even brush her once-glorious hair.

The doctors said it was nothing, merely the effects of pregnancythat shed be well after the birth. Frederick looked after her with endless patience, though his mother sighed and muttered that hed married a burden, not a wife. Frederick guarded Grace fiercely, asked his mother to stay away.

Grace gave birth to a little girl, and Frederick believed happiness would return. For a while it did, until one chill evening Grace caught cold and never recovered. She faded before their eyes.

She was taken to hospital, but the village doctor sighed and said straight out, Her lungs are falling apart.

Grace understood her time was short. At first, she tried to smile, but her lips only drew back in a painful grimace, and her eyes betrayed horror for her daughters future.

Her thinness, the ribs poking along her back, her sunken chest, and sagging shouldersall made it clear death was hovering, waiting for the last breath.

Sensing the approaching end, Grace beckoned Frederick to her and made her request.

No one can change what God writes for us. Our love is weary of struggle. I have no strength left. Forgive meand forgive our girl. I was born to grief, and drew you both into it.

Frederick held her hot hands, kissing them. Her rushed, jagged breathing told him the end was near; she had to speak quickly.

Grace whispered of her love, her worries for their daughter, told him to remarry. Marry Alice. Shes kind, steady, suffered much already with her stepmother and stepsisters and drunkard father. She knows lifes hardships. She will never hurt our daughter. Treat her as youve treated meif I were within her. Forgive me these words: its not just my lungs that are black, but my heart with sorrow for our girl. Still, you must choose, as God has written. Just dont harm our daughter, or Ill curse you from beyond the veil.

With the last of her strength, she squeezed Fredericks hand.

Frederick wept, his tears distorting his wifes image. He felt her life ebbing by her breath. Her peaceful face, lips fixed in a frail smile, stared at a spot only she could see. Her skeletal hand still clung to his.

He covered her with kisses, from brow to toes, promising in wretched groans to do as shed asked. Thats why, a year after her death, he approached Alice.

His late mother-in-law had long since prepared the stepmother. Ill herself, she wished only for her granddaughter to have a loving stepmother and her son-in-law to be cared for. She alone had seen his pain and would have kissed his feet in gratitude for his love.

The betrothal passed in a fog. Seeing how much his daughter ached for a mother, and he himself for a companion, Frederick decided to honour his late wifes wish. Hed already begun to notice Alices gentleness and gracethose familiar plaits, that same warm, small smile, and the soft gait.

Sometimes he longed to draw Alice close and stand together in silence, conjuring the memory of his wife.

Alice couldnt explain why she agreed to marry Frederick. Whether she was simply tired of being her stepmothers drudge, of dragging her drunken father home, of her sisters jeers, or whether she pitied his motherless daughtershe wasnt sure.

But having agreed, she knew a new trial awaited: to love Frederick and win his heart.

After the engagement, Frederick introduced his daughter to Alice. Grace, in her last days, had rarely left the nursery, spending every minute with her daughter, even whispering instructions over her at night, as if preparing her for life without a mother.

Fredericks heart broke to think what Grace might have whispered to their little one during those midnight vigils.

Young Eleanor was a home-loving child. She didnt trust strangers, only clinging to her father, mother, grandmother, and the other sharp-tongued old granny.

Frederick brought Alice to his home hoping shed bond with Eleanor, away from the stepmothers boisterous cheer, which felt as false as a chestnut horse with painted socks.

Alice, alone with Frederick, said little, yet noticed he was not grim but unfailingly kind. He asked, plainly, whether she loved someone else; if so, hed step aside. He spoke not a word of Graces dying wish.

The house astonished Alice with its beautypolished wooden furniture, walls hung with intricate cross-stitch framed in carved, lacquered wood, broad, airy rooms.

Eleanors behaviour was odd: she was not at all wary, but rather coquettish. She brought out her toys and asked Alice to play, brushing her little hand against Alice, peering with bright curiosity, sometimes giggling.

During games, Alice would gently stroke Eleanors hairthick and golden like her mothersand suggest, Shall I make you a princess hairstyle?

Frederick watched, and his soul overflowed with joy.

Hed feared bringing Alice to the house, for Eleanor, barely four, would ask after her mother endlessly, watching the window for her return, rushing to the door at every visitor, hoping for her beloved mother.

No explanation would suffice. What Eleanor needed was a gentle, loving mother.

Frederick knew that no matter how devoted he was, he could never replace a mothers arms, her tenderness, her warmth.

He was afraid to trust his hopes to Alice. But when Eleanor, lips trembling, was ready to cry at the thought of Alice leaving, Frederick felt peace.

Eleanor took Alice by the hand, led her into her bedroom, fluffed the pillows like a true little hostess, then leapt onto the bed, joyfully bouncing towards the ceiling.

Alice was swept by memoriesher own stepmothers biting words, the way sweets and better bread were hidden for her own daughters, the beatings for unfinished chores, always wearing patched hand-me-down frocks, the sight of her drunken father left on the floor, and how shed covered him with her own ragged blanket out of pity. The curse her stepmother threw at hernot so much a daughter as a useless beastcaught in her throat.

With a lump, Alice wrapped her arms around Eleanor and lay down beside her, holding her close until the child slept deep and blissful.

Frederick, overjoyed, found himself unsure how to act. They sipped tea and simply smiled at one another. He couldnt let Alice go back to her old home.

Nohe just couldnt.

A wife ought to be with her husband, rather than where shes not wanted.