Today would have been her mother’s birthday, and the weight of that realization pressed heavily on Judith’s heart. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and she let it fall, unashamed. The music seemed to take on a life of its own, expressing all the sorrow, longing, and love that words could not convey.
Lost in her reverie, Judith did not hear the soft footsteps approaching. It wasn’t until the music faltered and she opened her eyes that she saw Aaron standing in the doorway. His presence was unexpected, and for a moment, Judith felt as if her private sanctuary had been invaded. But then she saw the concern in his eyes, and something in her softened.
Aaron stepped into the room, his expression one of sympathy and respect. He did not speak immediately, giving her the space to gather herself. She wiped the tear from her cheek, feeling a bit self-conscious but also grateful for his silent understanding.
“You play beautifully,” Aaron said finally. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”
Judith shook her head, managing a small smile. “It’s all right. I was just… thinking of my family.”
She felt an unfamiliar vulnerability wash over her as she sat in front of him. His presence, usually steady and composed, now seemed to invite a deeper level of intimacy.
She found herself telling him, almost in a whisper, “It’s my mother’s birthday today.”
Aaron took a sharp breath. “That is right. Oliver told me her birthday would fall during the period he was away. I beg your pardon for not realizing it was today.”
Judith closed the lid of the pianoforte and stood up. “It is quite alright, I did not expect you to know. The truth is, the more time passes, the more likely it is to be forgotten. That is in part why I played her favorite tune. I’d forgotten.”
Indeed, she had gotten up that morning, dressed, ate her breakfast, and met with Rosy as if nothing at all had happened. It wasn’t until Matilda had called on her and asked if she’d like to come to the cemetery with her that she remembered. For it to have been her stepmother, the woman who had taken her mother’s place, who remembered instead of her had been jarring.
Still, she’d gone to the cemetery with Matilda, and they’d laid flowers there and read prayers from a prayerbook Matilda had brought with her, and they’d spent some time there until the cold got too much for them. Then, with Matilda back at the dower house, Judith had found herself drawn to the music room, hoping that playing the pianoforte would help alleviate the guilt she felt.
“She passed away three and a half years ago. My father followed her only a week later. Their death dates are so close that it feels like they planned it that way.”
“I forgot both my parents’ birthdays last year,” Aaron admitted quietly, drawing her from her thoughts. “I felt dreadful. I was away with Oliver, and we were taking a tour of the Swiss Alps. Their birthdays were only a week apart, and I… they slipped my mind.”
She nodded and shared her experience that day, which seemed to ease his lingering guilt as well. Then, a silence fell between them until he cleared his throat.
“Judith, is this a bad time for me to call on you?”
Judith shook her head. “No, it’s all right. Actually, would you come for a walk with me? I want to place some flowers. I went to the cemetery with Matilda, but there is another place I’d like to visit.”
“Of course,” Aaron replied without hesitation.
Judith fetched her redingote and bonnet, and they set off together.
“Where are we going?” he asked, turning up the collar of his greatcoat.
“There is an elm tree that overlooks the water,” she said softly. “It is special to me.”
Aaron nodded. “Would you tell me about the elm tree?”
Judith had hoped he would ask. She had to admit that walking and talking to him eased the burden of the day somewhat.
“It’s a tree my parents planted when they got married,” Judith explained as they walked. “I like to sit there and think of them.In the past, Oliver and I would place flowers there when he was home at this time of year. He wasn’t home last year, so I did it alone. And I’m alone again this year.”
Aaron’s steps slowed, and he turned to face her. “You’re not alone, Judith. I’m here with you.”
His words, simple and heartfelt, wrapped around her like a comforting embrace. She knew he meant what he said as a friend and nothing more, but still, she drew more comfort from his presence than she’d ever thought possible.
They continued their walk in companionable silence, for which she was grateful. She wanted him with her, but at the same time, her thoughts were heavy that day. The path led them to the elm tree that stood tall and proud, its branches swaying gently in the breeze. The tree overlooked a serene stretch of water, its surface shimmering under the afternoon sun.
“This tree has always been a symbol of their love,” Judith murmured. “It’s where I feel closest to them.”
“I can see why. It’s a beautiful spot, Judith.”
Judith looked at him, her eyes searching his face. “Thank you for being here. It is nice not to be alone. Would you sit with me a bit?”
“Of course,” he said and sat beside her at the base of the tree as they looked out over the water.
