Narrative: Motherly love Who: Jill Sorrel NPCs: the big happy family Where: The Sorrel farm, outside Highever When: During the harvest, 9:44 Summary: Jill has returned home to help with the harvest. But perhaps she prefers to be away? Rating: N. For nagging.
”Jill Sorrel! You come inside and do something about that hair now, do you hear what I’m telling you!” The shrill voice sounded across the yard, and Jill froze in her tracks, slowly turning around to face her mother. She reached up with one hand to pat her hair, realising that small pieces of hay had stuck in the loose curls. Biting her lip she snatched at it, but only succeeding in making her hair even wilder and more unruly. ”I can’t mother, you know we have to get the last of the hay in before dark,” she mumbled, not having enough energy to raise her voice.
Her mother stared at her, a frown marring her face, before she turned without another word and went back into the house. The smack of the door sounded almost like a slap. Jill winced, took a deep breath and continued on her way.
There was hardly no wind, and the hot air stood still. When she moved, it only got worse, the sweat made her eyes smart and her shirt stick to her chest. The sun was sinking, but the heat remained, and she knew the work was far from over. If only her mother could let her be.
But we seldom get exactly what we wish for.
It continued at supper. ”Jill, did you even take the time to wash before you came in here? Or brush your hair? No, clearly you didn’t. You’re going to be the death of me, girl.” Jill didn’t want to be the death of her mother. She knew her father loved her mother very much, and she did want her father to be happy. ”Sorry mother, I didn’t have the time. The foals were so playful that…” a smile flitted by on her dirt streaked face, but disappeared again as soon as she met her mothers eyes. She looked down on her plate of stew instead. ”Well, maybe if you actually tried to make yourself presentable, perhaps you could be married still. 25 is a little old, but clean and in a pretty dress you don’t look too bad.”
Jill did not sigh, cause she knew it would only make it worse. She looked up briefly and met her fathers gaze. He winked at her, but it didn’t really make her feel any better. When she was a child, it had always cheered her up. But as she got older and all he still did was winking, it stopped working. No one ever stood up to Jillian Sorrel. Not even the daughter named after her.
Keeping her eyes on her plate, Jill tried to make her voice neutral and low. ”I’m not sure I will ever marry, mother. I’m quite happy as I am. Besides, it is not as if I had a lot of admirers.” The last sentence a tad lighter, a hopeful smile tugging at her lips, dimples showing.
Her mother only looked at her coldly. ”No you don’t,” she agreed. ”If you didn’t spend all your time with the horses maybe you could find someone. But no. Constantly these horses, I wish that…” Abruptly, Jill stood up, the wooden chair making a screeching noise against the floorboards. Her mother silenced with a surprised glare. ”I’m sorry, I’m not quite hungry any more,” Jill muttered, not bothering to wait for a reply. She just strode over to the door and walked out into the quiet evening.
Jill could recognize Salma anywhere, even nestled in the dark with a flock of other horses. The horse sensed her mood and rubbed her muzzle comfortingly against Jills shoulder, then resting her head aginst Jill, breathing warm air at her. Tomorrow, or the day after that, the harvest would be done, and she could return to Highever. "I wish we could leave right now, Salma," Jill muttered, laying her arms around the horses neck. "That we could just ride off, and..." The horse stood quite still. For a moment horse and woman breathed together. Everything was silent.
Then....
It was silly that her mother could still make her cry like this at 25 years old.