The Steward

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The Steward Page 16

by Christopher Shields


  “Happy birthday, Havana,” he said with a grin.

  I studied his eyes, looking for some sign of the sadness I knew he had to be feeling, but found none there. They were crystal blue and as intense as always. I glanced back over to Sara and Devin, who were talking with Dad. I sighed. Apparently the ruse worked.

  “I heard about you and Rhonda. I’m so sorry.”

  Doug shook his head. “Don’t be, it was a long time coming. But let’s not talk about that, please. Everyone keeps apologizing and I’d just like to forget about it.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’m perfectly happy to discuss anything else.”

  Gavin had returned to the dance floor with Becky, a friend of mine from school. I watched them dance for a moment. He looked back and smiled, and each time I made eye contact with her, she fluttered her eyelids.

  The next hour or two went by much the same way. Doug and I danced twice, but only to upbeat songs. I avoided any more slow dances. When I finally had a few minutes to myself, I walked over to my parent’s table and sat down. Mom smiled and took my hand without saying a word. Dad was talking to Aunt May about another party they had at the cottage when he was a child. He glanced at me, looked down at his watch, and walked over to Lance. When the music stopped, Dad took a microphone and faced the crowd.

  “Oh god, this is going to be terrible!” I whispered to Mom.

  She smiled and squeezed my hand. “This ... is a rite of passage for every young woman lucky enough to have a loving father,” she whispered raising one eyebrow. “Consider it practice for your wedding reception. Now…” she said through a big smile, never taking her eyes off of him, “…suck it up and take it like a woman.”

  I sat through his sentimental speech and managed not to cry. When he finished, he directed everyone’s attention to Aunt May. She pulled a small pink package from under the table and set it in front of me.

  “You already gave me such a fantastic gift this morning—I don’t need anything else,” I said.

  She just smiled. The pink lace bow was bigger than the box. It felt light when I held it. I looked up at Aunt May, and she had a crazy smile on her face—she was anxious. Once again, more than a hundred sets of eyes stared at me. I shook the box and it made a ‘thunk’ sound as something slid back and forth inside. My fingers wrestled with the bow, briefly, before I slid the top off the box. There was a note and a jewelry box inside. I opened the note and read it aloud,

  Maggie,

  May this bring you as much happiness as it has me.

  Bunches of Love,

  May

  “What’s in the box?” Candace said behind me.

  I couldn’t imagine what piece of jewelry Aunt May had picked out. She wore so much of it—I really had no idea. I pulled the box open and was momentarily confused. There were two small keys on a piece of pink ribbon.

  The keys were worn, with no writing on the topside. I turned the larger one over and studied it closer.

  “Ford,” I said.

  My breath caught. They were car keys. I looked up at Aunt May and threw my arms around her neck. “You got me a car?” I screamed.

  “It’s parked out front—can’t miss it. It’s the one with the matchin’ bow,” she said, holding the one I pulled off my package.

  I held her for a few seconds and watched a tear roll out of her eye.

  “Well, aren’t ya gonna go see it?” she asked, composing herself.

  I nearly knocked my chair over as I leapt to make my way to the cottage garden in front. The stone path was a little too rough for my new heels, so I yanked them off and all but ran to the steps leading up beside the kitchen. Once I made it to the garden wall, there were too many people standing around the car to see it. As I got closer, I caught a glimpse of a pink tailfin and a round taillight. It was Aunt May’s ‘57 Thunderbird. I knew I had to be mistaken, so I looked for another car. Surely she wasn’t going to give me that. But no, there it sat with the top down and a huge, pink lace bow on the windshield.

  Stunned, I silently stood there with tears rolling down my cheeks. My great grandfather gave Aunt May the car when she learned to drive. I knew how much it meant to her—the connection—and she adored it above nearly everything she owned. I couldn’t believe she gave it to me—the most beautiful car I’d ever seen. I walked around to the driver’s side, and slid behind the wheel.

  Candace crawled into the seat beside me and struck a pose, “Okay, I’m ready for my close up,” she teased. “This is glam, girl.”

  “I know—can you believe it?” I said.

  “It looks fast, Mags, let’s go for a ride!”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “I have a hundred people here, I can’t just drive off.”

  “It’s your birthday. You can do whatever you want.”

  She looked up and quickly got out of the seat. She grabbed Doug by the arm and pushed him in beside me. He looked over and smiled.

  “This is a hot ride, wow!” he said.

  Aunt May finally came up beside me, a little out of breath, but smiling ear to ear. “How da ya like it?”

  “Oh, my gosh, Aunt May—it’s too much. I can’t possibly…” I started.

  She shook her head. “I don’t take gifts back. Besides, the title’s already in yer name.” She grabbed my forearm. “An’ can you really see me crawlin’ in an’ out-a this tiny thing at my age?” A laugh rattled in her chest.

  “How did you know I liked this car—I never said a word?”

  “A little birdie told me.” Aunt May winked and snorted a laugh.

  I remembered Sara being in the garage weeks ago while I fantasized about driving it on Ocean Boulevard in Miami. I wrung the steering wheel in my hand and started with the goofy smile again.

  “Yer mom’n dad bought a new stereo for it. Ya can hook yer IPod up right there,” she said, pointing to a small jack just under the dash. “Gavin installed it Friday night while ya went ta swim practice. But right now, ya need ta take it for a spin. And stop lookin’ so severe.” Her crooked grin widened.

  “Can I?” I asked Mom and Dad.

  “It’s your car, but just up to the road and back,” Mom said. “I know you don’t have your license with you—there’s no room for it in that dress.”

  Several of the guys did cat calls, and I fought to keep from blushing. Doug started to get out, but Candace pushed the door shut.

  “Maybe you should take someone else,” he said. I looked up and saw Gavin standing behind Dad. This would be a chance for me to drive him far enough away so that I could tell him the truth.

  “Well, Gavin did teach me how to drive—it would only be fair.”

  Gavin shook his head. “I’ll get the next ride. You should take Doug.” Dammit, Gavin!

  I looked over at him and smiled. Twisting the key in the ignition, the engine came to life, burbling out the tail pipes. Dad pulled the bow off the windshield, and several people backed out of our way as I pulled up the driveway. It felt good, and I couldn’t wait to get the car out on the road and really drive it. We drove the mile to the top of the hill and stopped.

  “Would you like to drive it back down?” I asked Doug.

  “No, I’m good. I’m actually enjoying watching you.”

  I laughed when he said that, and met his eyes. He looked at me with more intensity than I’d expected. It made me uncomfortable, and that only grew worse when he leaned toward me. For a moment, all I could do was panic and focus on his eyes and lips. He was going to kiss me and deep down a part of me wanted him to. When he got a few inches from me, I put my hand on his chest and pushed him back. My fingers touched his skin—it was warmer and softer than I’d expected, like velvet stretched over stone. I felt an electrical current run down my spine. I almost let him do it, but I thought of Gavin.

  “I can’t,” I said.

  He sat back a few inches and exhaled slowly. “Why not?” he asked, smiling at me.

  “You and Rhonda, that’s why,” I said.

  “We broke up.�
��

  “I know that ... today.”

  “It only became official today. We were done three months ago,” he said.

  “What do you mean, three months ago?” I stared at him.

  “You know what I mean, Maggie.”

  “No, I don’t. You just broke up with Rhonda—it hasn’t even been a day yet. You were in love with her and now you’re just hurt and angry because she dumped you. It’s so obvious--you’re rebounding,” I said, working it all out as I spoke. “She’ll probably call you back to apologize tonight. You know how she is.”

  “I’m not in love with her. I can’t be in love with her, Maggie. I believe you can only love one person at a time…”

  “Okay, Stop!” I begged him. Just drive back down the hill and let him out—now!

  “No, I won’t,” he whispered. “I did what I had to do to spare her feelings. I told her that I couldn’t pretend anymore. She didn’t break up with me ... I broke up with her. She had to know the truth, Maggie, and so do you,” he said. “I’m in love with you.”

  I was speechless. No one had ever said those words to me before. My heart betrayed me and raced in my chest. Before I could do anything, he pulled me to him and kissed me. His lips were strong but soft, and his warm, moist breath covered my face like a summer breeze. I tried to pull away at first, but he was stronger than me. In fact, I grew weaker. My head spun, and I realized after a moment or two that I hadn’t pushed away but clung to him instead. I clenched a hand full of his hair and I pressed my mouth to his. I’d forgotten about everything else in the world.

  He pulled me closer, and I could feel the heat of his body through my dress. I fought to form my lips to fit his more perfectly—I wanted to be closer to him if it were possible. His breaths quickened, as did mine. He pulled his lips from me and repeated, “I love you.” I still couldn’t move. I simply lost myself in his beautiful face.

  I wasn’t aware that anyone else existed at the moment. I was lost staring into his blue eyes. So lost, I didn’t notice that another car had pulled into the driveway. I didn’t know how long it sat there either. I didn’t really care. When it finally registered, I realized that I was blocking the road and needed to let whomever it was pass. He looked at me and smiled, shaking his head.

  “Sorry,” he said. He turned toward the car and waved as I backed the T-bird into a clearing and started to turn back toward the cottage.

  Doug suddenly halted, and stared at the other car. I looked up to see who was waiting–Rhonda. She sat in her mom’s BMW, glaring at both of us for a moment that seemed to drag on forever. It surprised me when she finally moved. She rolled her window down and threw a package tied with a bow onto the driveway and screamed … something. The BMW lurched backwards as she recklessly careened out of the driveway, barely missing the rock gate. The black car skidded to a halt on the road, then shot off, screeching, in a cloud of tire smoke.

  Doug shook his head and quietly muttered, “Oh shit.”

  TWELVE

  CONSEQUENCES

  Spring break had ended. Mom decided to take on the burden of driving me to swim practice and back home—after last week she was a lot more attentive. Riding in the burgundy 1965 Thunderbird, another from Aunt May’s collection, I didn’t say much as she steered through the rolling countryside surrounding Bentonville. I focused on the road and listened to the rumble of the exhaust as Mom drove.

  “You know she’ll be alright,” she said. “The doctors said she’ll probably be back in school in time to finish the semester.”

  I didn’t say anything—I just nodded. I couldn’t look at her. Instead I focused on the speedometer of the car, watching as the red bar slid under the number sixty, forcing out the white. It reminded me of all the good and all the bad that fought for my attention this week, each one trying to push the other off the dial in a continuous tug-of-war. She gave up trying to talk, and looked back at the road.

  * * *

  My mind wandered back to my party a week ago. Doug and I had come back down the hill after it happened, after the kiss, after we’d seen Rhonda. Most of my friends went back to the tent and danced. Dad stood there with Aunt May in the driveway, and Mom snapped pictures of me in the car. Candace and Ronnie stood at the garden wall looking at me like they’d seen what happened—I knew I was about to get the third degree. Gavin wasn’t there and neither was Sara. Had they seen it? I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t know how far their ranges extended.

  Doug tried to talk to me when he got out of the car, but I couldn’t look at him. I felt anger for having let him kiss me, but I felt excitement, too. He’s gorgeous, kind, funny, but… Unfortunately, my heart was still racing, and I couldn’t get Rhonda’s face out of my head. Everything spun in a whir and I felt off-balance.

  I scanned the area looking for Gavin, all the while telling Aunt May how much I loved the car. Rather than drive it more, I pulled it down to the Toy Box. Alone for a moment, I tried to collect my thoughts and relax. Looking back at the little crowd by the cottage gate, I noticed Doug, who just stood there with an apologetic look on his face. What am I going to do about you? Walking back up the driveway, I focused on Candace and Ronnie and I forced a smile. Not ready to talk, I strode past them. Without slowing, I walked into the garden, with them following me, and right past Doug. I planned to surround myself with a lot of people so they couldn’t ask me anything.

  Gavin came out of the Cottage as we approached. He smiled at me and said he needed to be going. A knot grew in my gut. He’s different now—exactly like he had been before Friday. I asked him why he was leaving, and he simply smiled at me and glanced at Doug, who was still standing by the front gate.

  “Oh no,” I whispered.

  He smiled again and gave me a hug before he walked to his car. The hug was passionless and friendly, like one you’d give your grandmother. All the chemistry I’d felt earlier was gone. He saw what happened. He saw all of it—do something! I went after him, and Candace started to follow until I shot her a back-off look. She nodded, turned, and went to Ronnie and Doug. Gavin walked to his car, and I followed in hot pursuit as I tried to think of some way to explain it, to make him understand. He climbed in—the sound of the door shutting struck me like a punch in the stomach. I put my hand on his arm though the window.

  “Don’t be silly, Maggie, everything is fine,” he said.

  His voice was calm, measured, and he acted completely nonchalant. It killed me. He grinned and relaxed in the seat.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow. You go enjoy your party.”

  I tried to stop him, determined not to let go of his arm. It’s a stupid plan, but it’s all I have. I made up my mind, right then and right there, to tell him exactly how I felt. And then he bristled.

  It was a confusing reaction at first, and it left me wondering what I’d done wrong—well, what else I’d done wrong. That was when I saw Chalen walking down the driveway, his eyes locked onto me. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and my entire body went rigid. Gavin studied him in his rearview mirror, and didn’t move. I turned to face Chalen, backing away a step to put more of the car between us, as my breath and heartbeat quickened. Chalen curved his lips into a distorted smile, apparently sensing my discomfort.

  He looked different--not nearly as grotesque as I remembered, but much more menacing. He appeared thirty years younger, with thick, dark, greasy hair, and no older than my father. The scars on his face, while visible, were dramatically smoother. He stood taller, and stalked up like a predator—his eyes still locked on me like a wolf on a deer. At ten feet he stopped. Sara emerged from nowhere and stood between us. I was relieved to see her and felt a little safer.

  “Chalen, what brings you down the hill?” Sara said curtly.

  “I just came to wish our new Steward a Happy Birthday,” he said, emphasizing the words to make them sound sincere.

  Sara looked at him without blinking. “Well, that explains the ... slightly ... less unpleasant visage.”

  He gave Sara
an amused look and lifted his arm toward me. “And to bring her this.”

  He held a gift in his hand. At first it confused me—I had no idea why he’d bother to bring me a gift. Gavin hadn’t moved a muscle, and continued to stare at Chalen in the mirror. They were all silent, and it made me uncomfortable. I knew they were communicating in the way they always did when they didn’t want me to hear them. Chalen smiled again, revealing his sharp-looking teeth, and slowly looked behind me. His milky blue eyes, menacing and cruel, made me nervous. My heart sped up. When I turned back toward the house, I saw Candace, Ronnie, and Doug watching us, undoubtedly trying to figure out who the newest guest was. It petrified me because I knew what Chalen was capable of doing to them. Seeing his eyes on anyone I cared about made me feel vulnerable.

  I looked back at him when he cleared his throat, the package still in his outstretched hand. His nails grew long and sharp, and they made his fingers look more like talons than digits. Another ploy, I thought, to elicit fear. Sara took it from Chalen and handed it to me, never taking her eyes off him. Silver and white foil paper covered the box, and a silver lace ribbon finished it off. It was very pretty, but it didn’t fit—it seemed too pretty to have come from him. Then I noticed a dent on one corner and a dirt stain. It was the package Rhonda had thrown on the driveway. I was so upset by what had happened, I’d forgotten about it.

  “How very rude! Aren’t you even going to unwrap it? And after she made the trip all the way out here.” He shook his head.

  “I apologize,” I said.

  I’d say just about anything not to upset him with my friends so close. Inside the box I found a note that read:

  Maggie,

 

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