Jenny stood silently before the familiar wooden door of her bedroom. She wondered if she should knock, though she felt much too formal even considering it. Elizabeth hadn’t been heard from since dinner, and though Jenny had resolved to give her as much privacy as possible, it really was getting quite late. Eventually, she decided on a light, hopefully unintrusive tap.
“Come in.”
Elizabeth was sitting up in bed, reading a thick leather-bound book. She had already changed into her nightgown and cap. Jenny scurried to grab her own not-as-nice garments. As she changed, she noticed that Elizabeth had hidden her face behind her book, her eyes glued to its pages, though she had only been flipping with idle gloom moments before. Jenny bit her lip; she was so used to changing in front of her sisters that she hadn’t even thought to hide herself. A little embarrassed, she pulled the rough, homespun gown over herself, and crawled into the other bed as quickly as possible.
It felt odd to be sleeping with a companion again. With all of her siblings gone, Jenny had grown accustomed to solitude. She imagined that Elizabeth, who had never had any siblings to begin with, likely felt the same way.
Jenny stared up at the wooden slat-bound ceiling, leaning into the rough straw beneath her back. She tried to concentrate on the pattern formed by the interlocking, dark brown beams, rather than the questions she so desperately wanted to ask. She didn’t feel guilty for wondering about Elizabeth, because it wasn’t gossip or judgement that she was after. It was only a good story. Jenny’s own life was an endless cycle of chores, chickens, and make-believe. She itched for drama of any kind. It was a life-sustaining substance.
But she still kept her mouth shut. As her mother would have said, it wasn’t her place to ask. She would just have to wait to be told, if she ever was told. And as Elizabeth shut her book and wordlessly blew out the candle on the room’s only table, it seemed that the opportunity was gone.
Jenny turned over, trying to fall asleep. Her mind was still too bright with curiosity, though, which only intensified her nagging guilt over dinner. It might be normal, she thought, to be withdrawn or impolite in a new place. Jenny had never really been to a new place herself, but she imagined it was difficult. It seemed to her that Elizabeth deserved a fairer chance, somewhere without unspoken rules that she didn’t yet know. Jenny opened her eyes and whispered, “Elizabeth?”
“Yes?”
“Would you want to visit the Cliffs of Moher with me tomorrow? It’s only a short walk.”
There was a pause, during which neither girl moved an inch. Then, Elizabeth whispered back “Yes, please,” and sounded much happier than she had a moment before. Jenny smiled to herself; she couldn’t help but be proud of her own generosity. She sincerely doubted that Elizabeth really knew what she was agreeing to, and was just a little surprised that she had still said yes. She didn’t know anyone else who would have accepted an adventure, any adventure, without question. Well, except for herself.
In the dark night, colored only by a chorus of crickets, Jenny considered these developments, until sleep finally managed to sneak up on her.
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