by J. L. Fynn
I’d been so worried about Jim that I hadn’t actually taken the time to think about how scary this must be for Maggie. My heart broke for her a little, especially since I knew she wasn’t exactly going to get a happily ever after with Jim.
“The bayou has its own beauty,” I said. “It’s a lot prettier than it sounds.”
“Perhaps,” Maggie said.
“You and I have a lot in common,” I blurted. I don’t know why I said it. I guess I wanted to console her. Make her feel less alone and let her know that Jim wasn’t a terrible guy, but looking back, this was the moment that started the rest of it. The conversation that lit the spark of something that would eventually become an out-of-control wildfire.
“Is that so?” she asked, still looking out the window.
“I lost my parents when I was young too.” It was a guess, but if her parents had been around they would’ve been the ones arranging her marriage, not her grandfather.
In my peripheral vision I noticed that this got her attention, but I tried to stay casual, keeping my eyes on the road. “They both died when I was eleven.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, genuine sympathy tingeing her voice.
“I don’t talk about it much. Don’t want people pitying me, I guess. It was a long time ago,” I said. “But Jim’s family was always there for me. When my parents died—it was a car accident so it was very sudden—I dropped out of school and started going out on the road. Jim and I had always been buddies so his pop let me go out with their family. This was before he was clan leader, but still.” I knew I was rambling, but for some reason I wanted her to know everything about me. “He didn’t have to help me out. Pop Reilly’s taught me everything I know about being a Traveler and a man. I know it’s going to take some adjusting for you, but in time I think you could be happy. We’re not bad people.”
“You can’t be all bad,” she said. “Granda said you still go out on the road. My clan’s all but given that up, and it hasn’t done us a bit of good. Too many of us on the dole. Granda was mad as lightening when my mam and da ran off, but what’s a Traveler if he ain’t traveling?” So her parents were still alive, but they’d abandoned her? I didn’t know which was worse.
I smiled and chanced a look over at her. Glimpsing her face made my heart pound in my chest. “So is that why you’re here then?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“I suppose. Granda was happy to unload me. I was too much a reminder of his daughter and his good-for-nothing son-in-law. But, let’s not talk about that.” She shooed away the memory with a wave of her hand. “Tell me more about this bayou. Aren’t there alligators out there?”
“Well, sure. There’s all kinds of animals out in the bayou, but they won’t hurt you. Gators, all manner of birds, nutria, tr—”
“Nutria? What’s that?”
The minute she asked the question, I realized I probably shouldn’t have brought up the nutria. They weren’t exactly a selling point. “They’re little mammals.”
“Like cats? Squirrels?”
“More like squirrels than cats.”
“Well, what do they look like?”
“They’re a few feet long, brown fur.”
“That doesn’t tell me a whole lot. You’re trying to hide something. I can tell.”
This one was going to be too sharp for my own good. “They’re giant rodents, okay. They’re three-foot long rats with big, bright orange buck teeth.”
“Go way outta that,” she said, her tone amused.
“They’re not as bad as they sound,” I said quickly. “They’re strangely cute. Maybe sometime I could take you out on a boat. Show you around. I think you’d like it.”
“You know, I think I would. Maybe I just need to give it a chance.”
For a split second I imagined us alone in a boat, having a romantic evening together. Then it dawned on me for the tenth time that she wasn’t mine. She could never be mine.
I looked at the green sign listing upcoming exits, wondering why we didn’t seem to be getting any closer to Slidell and realized that I’d been driving in the wrong direction for the last thirty minutes. I pulled off at the next exit, and turned the car around. To her credit, Maggie said nothing of the obvious error. She rode quietly beside me as we finally started heading home.
CHAPTER SIX
BRIDGET SHEEDY PUT out the call that Maggie was ready for the wedding to begin. Traveler weddings rarely had an official start time. Everyone just waited until the bride announced she was ready. Apparently Maggie had a quick hand with the makeup brush. She was ready hours before any of us expected, and Jim and I scrambled to get into our suits once we’d gotten the call.
I hopped behind the wheel of the beautiful new truck Pop had given Jim as an early wedding present and drove the two of us to the church. Jim wanted to show up to the reception in style and my truck was almost a year old.
As I turned onto the main road, Jim fished a flask out of his inside jacket pocket. He took a long swig and then offered it to me. I glanced over at it warily, then thought what the hell and took a swig of it myself. The whiskey burned as it went down my throat, pleasant and uncomfortable all at the same time.
“You sure you want to do this?” I asked as we neared Our Lady of Perpetual Help Church.
“Yup,” he said, taking another long pull from the flask. “She is pretty. I heard Michael Sheedy just about spit when he saw her for the first time.” Maggie had been staying with Michael and Bridget the week leading up to the wedding. “You know how he is—always jealous of me and my brother, and now that I’m getting a wife like Maggie? Really, this is the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“You’re not—” I started, but Jim cut me off.
“None of that now. This is my wedding day. I’m going to eat, drink, and be merry.” To punctuate his point, he took one final drink from his flask, finishing it as far as I could tell.
“I heard Maggie was giving Bridget problems with the wedding planning.” Pop had asked Bridget to plan the wedding since Maggie’s mother wasn’t around to do it. I was glad she’d had help, but the idea of Pop giving the Sheedys any more power than necessary made me nervous. Those two already had their sights set too high. Give them an inch and they’d take a hundred miles.
Jim apparently didn’t share my hesitation. He let out a loud sputter of laughter. “Damn right she did. Bridget was so excited that Pop asked her to plan the wedding, but everything Bridget wanted, Maggie argued with. Or at least that’s what I’ve heard. First she didn’t like the flowers, then the dresses. Bridget had a hell of time. I don’t know if this bodes well for a pleasant marriage, but I can’t help but like anyone who’d give it to Bridget like that.”
We pulled up to the church and hopped out of the truck. Jim didn’t look at all unsteady on his feet, which I counted as a small blessing. I was sure Pop would blame me if Jim showed up to his own wedding drunk, and I didn’t need Pop pissed at me.
The second we walked into the front doors of the church, Michael Sheedy stomped over to us. “Nice of you to finally show up,” he said, a scowl on his face.
“We just got the call from Bridget half an hour ago,” I said.
“Whatever. I’ll go tell Bridge you’re ready to start.”
Jim looked antsy, like he wished he had more whiskey. “You want me to look in and see if it’s crowded?” I asked.
“Sure,” Jim said, though he seemed too distracted to notice I’d said anything.
I popped my head in the sanctuary and hundreds of faces looked back at me. Nearly all of the women of the Village had come to see the wedding of the clan leader’s oldest son. The church was filled with a sea of teal, pink, purple, and neon green fabric.
I came back out and found John standing next to Jim. I walked over to them and shook John’s hand. Even though I’d taken on most of the duties, John was Jim’s best man in name. He looked much more like their father than Jim did. He was tall and thin, with sharp features. Jim and I
, both stocky, and with the same hazel eyes, actually looked more like brothers than the two of them. “Looks good in there,” I said. “Place is packed. I guess I’ll go take my seat and leave you to it. Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Jim said with a smile that almost looked genuine. John, quiet as usual, just nodded.
I turned to walk away, but before I took a step, Michael stomped back over to where we were standing. “Maggie won’t wear a proper dress,” he said. “She’s wearing some ridiculous thing. Bridget wants you to go talk some sense into her before she shames the whole clan.”
“You know Jim can’t see Maggie before she walks down the aisle,” I said. “Just let her wear whatever she wants.”
“No one asked you, Saint Thomas.” He scowled at me.
I rolled my eyes at the stupid nickname I’d been saddled with. My penitent for questioning what I was told had earned me the stupid moniker, and it rankled every time I heard it.
“Don’t you care that the woman you’re about to marry is going to humiliate herself in front of everyone here?” Michael continued, ignoring my advice.
“How bad could this dress be?” John spoke up, though without much conviction.
Michael ignored him as well and continued to direct his words to Jim. “It’s a serious embarrassment. Be a man and tell her that you’re her husband now, and she’ll wear a proper gown.”
“It’s her wedding too,” Jim said, then turned to me and winked. He was playing it cool, but inside I knew he was loving this. Anything to aggravate Michael and Bridget Sheedy.
“Fine. Have it your way. If you don’t mind looking the fool in front of everyone here, I’ll tell the priest you’re ready.”
I followed him into the sanctuary, and sat down near the front of the church behind the open pew left for Pop.
A few minutes later, the organist started playing, and Jim and his brother walked down the aisle, taking their place in front of the alter. Next came Pop Reilly, the only other member of Jim’s immediate family. Pop wore a crisp three-piece suit with a gold watch chain polished to a blinding sheen. Next would’ve come Maggie’s family, but she had none here, so Bridget Sheedy, who was acting as Maggie’s matron-of-honor, rounded out the procession.
When I caught sight of her walking down the aisle, I was stunned. Traveler dresses were known for being loud, but this went far beyond anything I’d seen before. The base of her dress was a bright blue tube dress—strapless on top and only coming down to her mid-thigh. Appliquéd on the front was fabric in the shape of an enormous sequined pineapple. Sewn around the bottom of the skirt was a ruffled, neon-yellow fabric that reached the floor, but with a huge slit up the front, so her legs poked through when she walked.
How did she have that thing made so quickly? Or did she have it sitting around, waiting for a special occasion? You never knew with Bridget.
No wonder Maggie had put up a fight about her dress. Any wedding dress that would coordinate with this monstrosity was something I’d have a problem with too. I mean, sure you wanted to look grand on your wedding day, but not like some ungodly cross between Carmen Miranda and Carmen Electra.
Or at least, that was my opinion. I looked around to catch the reactions of the women around me, and nearly every one of them stared at Bridget with unconcealed envy. Incredible.
Bridget made her way down the aisle walking as slowly as possible to give everyone the opportunity to fully admire her dress, but finally she made it to her spot in the front of the church.
The music changed, and we all stood, waiting for the bride. The bridal march went on for more than a few notes, and I looked back at Jim, wondering how he must be feeling at this moment. His eyes looked a little glassy, but otherwise he didn’t look unhappy. The room erupted in startled gasps, and I turned back around to see what everyone was reacting to. When I did, I found Maggie wearing something so shocking I immediately understood the clan’s reaction.
No wonder Bridget was horrified. What was Maggie thinking with this dress? Most Traveler women wouldn’t be caught dead cleaning house in such a thing, let alone getting married in it. The Village would be talking about this for months. Years even. Maggie’s name might even be dragged, although this wasn’t enough of a violation to bring on full censure.
She wore a simple white dress that fell to the floor and only had the smallest of trains, half a foot at most. Lace covered her shoulders and her arms, but other than that, the dress was completely unadorned. No sequins. No feathers. No corset. Nothing.
It was modest and restrained, two words that never applied to Traveler wedding dresses.
When I took Maggie in, I gasped too, but my outburst was for a completely different reason than the rest of the clan. I didn’t care that Maggie didn’t have a single sequin on her bodice or ruffled fabric in her train or giant feathers in her hair. She was perfect. Absolutely perfect. And all of that nonsense only would’ve distracted from her perfection. I couldn’t imagine her looking more beautiful.
I hadn’t seen her since she was in my truck the week before. When we’d finally reached the Village, I’d dropped her off at the Sheedy house. I went to help her with her bag, but she shooed me away, insisting on carrying it for herself. She’d rung the bell to the Sheedys’ red brick house, then turned back to me, looking nervous. When Bridget answered the door she smiled at me one final time before disappearing inside.
Today all her nervousness seemed to be gone. She looked calm and proud. It was hard to believe she was only eighteen years old; she had such a quiet confidence.
As she and Jim said their marriage vows, I did everything I could to distract myself from the words they spoke. I told myself that the pain I felt was for my best friend and his new wife. I was sorry they’d never be able to find real happiness together, and that neither of them would get the life they deserved. I told myself all my sadness was for them, but if I was being honest, I knew deep down, even then, that mostly I was sorry for myself.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I TRIED TO take a sip of my morning coffee, but it was too hot. I set it down and leaned back in my seat. I was still only wearing my boxers and it was after eleven, but it wasn’t like I had anywhere to go.
I’d always hated winters. Being in the Village cooped up for months without anything to do wasn’t my idea of a good time. I itched to get back out on the road, but there wasn’t a whole lot of paving or roofing you could do up north in the middle of the winter.
I got up to put my mug in the sink, but when I stood up, my knee caught on the edge of the table and I pulled it off its hinges.
God must’ve been punishing me for thinking about how bored I was. Oh well. At least it’d give me an excuse to run to town and get out of here for a bit. Maybe I could even concoct a reason to go into New Orleans.
It’s not like I hated it at home. The clan was my family even though my parents were gone, but there were too many eyes watching me, and nothing to do all day but get drunk. I could only drink for so long before it got old. Too bad Jim didn’t see it the same way.
Now that New Year’s was over, I was ready for it to be spring. The next three months were going to bore me out of my skull.
I pulled a pair of jeans over my boxers and threw on a sweatshirt, then headed toward my truck. I was about to hop in when I noticed someone crouched down by the tree line at the edge of my property.
“Maggie?”
The woman turned around and stood. It was indeed Maggie, not more than twenty yards away. She carried a basket on her arm filled with plants, and a wide smile covered her face the second she saw me. “Tommy? So this is where you live.”
I glanced back at my tiny trailer and suddenly felt self-conscious. Most Travelers had similar trailers to go out on the road, but they lived in doublewides or permanent houses here. I didn’t see the point in moving my stuff around every time I came back to the Village since it was just me. Other young people lived with their parents until they got married, so they didn’t have the issue of buying
a doublewide or house for just themselves. “I know it’s not the nicest place.”
“I like it. That’s the way Travelers should live. Doublewides are better than houses, but you still can’t pick them up and move them whenever you’d like. My mam always told me that if a Traveler sleeps under a solid roof for too long, he’ll lose his soul.” She smiled and hitched the basket up on her arm, and we both stood there in awkward silence for a long moment.
“Whatcha got there?” I asked finally, not wanting her to have an excuse to leave.
“Some chicory plants—I think that’s what Bridget called them. I still haven’t found any plants I’m familiar with, but I’ve done some reading about this one, and I have a good feeling there’s something I could do with it.”
“You’re still hanging around with Bridget? I thought after the wedding debacle…” I trailed off realizing that offending her might not be the best way of keeping her around.
“I’m watching her boys three days a week.”
I shot her a confused look. Most women did not like someone else looking after their kids. Traveler women were extremely protective of their children.
“She’s been busy,” Maggie said by way of explanation, “helping Michael keep the books for the clan. So I help her out. The kids really liked me the week I was there, even if she wasn’t…the most keen.” The sides of her mouth twitched up into a smile.
I smiled back at her. Who was this woman? I kicked at the grass at my feet. I was at a loss for words—had been since I’d laid eyes on her—but I had to say something. “So you’re really into plants, huh?” I asked, groping at anything.
Maggie laughed airily. “I guess you could say that. I’ve been looking everywhere for coltsfoot, but I haven’t seen anything like it. Do you know where I could find some? It’s a plant with yellow flowers that are the first to come in spring.”
“No idea. I don’t really know anything about plants.”