The Guilt of a Sparrow

by Jess B. Moore

  Well into the night, darkness pressing in on all sides, I turned the truck around and drove back to town. I played a Joe Purdy album I had bought years ago, after overhearing Maggie tell Alyssa it was her favorite. His troubadour style of songwriting, and his lone acoustic guitar, wove into my warring emotions. This was a turning point, and I knew it. Dominic was right, that I had to make a choice and see it through. After hours driving away, I realized it was pointless to try and escape my own thoughts. Re-entering our town, asleep and peaceful excepting the loud rumble of my truck, I looked through the exhaustion and saw what I had to do. It came down to which outcome I could live with, and which would slowly kill me. I had spent the better part of a lifetime staying away from Maggie and resisting the pull to her. That brand of torture was no longer appealing. I wasn't sure how to make it up to her, to heal the pain I had caused her, but I was well beyond being able to keep my distance.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Magnolia

  Sunday had been the longest day in the history of long days. Waiting for Alyssa to get home from her trip was testing my patience, stretching my ability to wait thin to the point of cracking. We shared frantic texts when she regained phone service, but there was no way I could tell her everything over text. It needed to be in person. We both had to work on Monday, and I had to bide my time. I had to sit tight, that was all there was for it.

  Work ticked by in a slow painful droll of time, made worse by my incessant clock checking. By the time five thirty rolled around and I could show up on Alyssa's doorstep, I was antsy, half crazed from the need to hear her take on things.

  As promised I showed up with ice cream.

  “I ordered pizza. We are not starting with the ice cream.” She yanked me through her back door and snatched the carton from my hands.

  “Okay, yeah, that's fine.” I was swept into her fast pace and followed her through the mudroom into the kitchen.

  “Do not start talking yet!” She screamed at me and I laughed. “I'm pouring wine. Don't tell me you aren't drinking tonight. We're going to sit in the sun room and you are not skipping a single detail.”

  I agreed. We drank glasses of fizzy sweet Moscato sitting in the room made of glass. Like being outside but with her a/c pumping cool air on us.

  “Go.” She settled into a wide comfy chair, her feet tucked under her. Her face was expectant, and her fingers tapped out a rhythm that begged for me to spill the news.

  “Oh my God, Lyss, I don't know where to start. I guess the beginning. Dinner at the MacKenna's.” I took a gulp of my wine and cringed when it hit the back of my throat, syrupy sweet with the shock of alcohol. “They were all there. Not Joe, but you know what I mean. Five of them, if you count Elliot. Why are they all so big? Talk about intimidating!”

  I told her about Dom cooking, about how sweet and friendly Beau and Elliot were. I told her how Denver had dragged Cotton into the kitchen, and it was obvious he didn't want to be there. I told her how I followed him into the darkening yard and he kissed me again. We paused only so that Alyssa could answer the door, pay for the pizza, and grab a couple plates. We went right back to our seats, with plates on our laps, and picked up where we left off.

  “It was amazing. Perfect. I can't begin to think of a better kiss happening ever in all of time.”

  “But?”

  “But he didn't mean to.” I clutched my glass, steadied my plate, and stared out the window into her little fenced in yard. I thought back to that night and I was there all over again. “Clearly he's attracted to me. But he stops himself, says some bull like being no good for me, then leaves.”

  “He left you there?”

  “He walked me back to the house first. But, yeah, he left me.”

  I told her how I cried into Dominic's chest. I skipped my conflicted feelings about running into his arms while I was still so upset about another boy's embrace. It was too complicated.

  “What an asshole.” Alyssa looked miffed, and a little like she pitied me. I couldn't blame her. “Sorry, Magpie.”

  “He apologized.” I shrugged and finished my wine. “Via text.”

  “That doesn't even count. Puh-lease.”

  “Right?” I had gone back and re-read the brief text exchange too many times to count. I wanted to go back and say something else in response. Something less hurtful. I hated the way I had ended things in that bit of contact between us. After everything, with all the fear and hurt he caused, I cared for him.

  “Enough about him. Tell me about your date!”

  Just like that she was excited, bouncing in her seat, and filled with hope. It made it easier for me to transition from the sadness that came with my memories of Cotton, and to focus on the good time I had with Vincent. I allowed myself to be swept up in her mood rather than dwell on the way I wanted to fall apart when I thought about Cotton.

  She peppered me with questions about the date with Vin. We dissected little things he said and what I thought about every part of him. When it came to Emily Tanner acting weird, she agreed it was about Dominic. Apparently Emily had a big thing for Dom, but he'd never asked her out in all these years.

  “How was that kiss?” We were on our second glasses of wine, stuffed with pizza, and heavy in our chairs. My friend tipped her head to one side, and her voice was threaded through with all her optimism. She wanted it to have been spectacular.

  It was great, right? It was a first date kiss, not a make out session. It wasn't Vin's fault I compared all lip-to-lip contact with Cotton's assault on my sensibilities.

  “It was sweet. Vin is sweet.”

  “Aww! Yay! When are you going out again?” She clapped her hands then laughed when she sloshed wine down the hand still holding her glass.

  “Saturday.” It was good to put thoughts of Cotton out of my head. I redoubled my efforts to think about Vincent, and our upcoming second date. “He asked me to go to the stupid Slip'n Slide thing with him.”

  “No freaking way! And you're going?” She jumped up and placed her glass on a side table. She stood over me and radiated her excited approval.

  I nodded and fought my smile.

  “You never go! Every year I beg and beg and you refuse. This is going to be so much fun!”

  Alyssa pulled me up and still holding my hands bounced on her feet. I borrowed from her joy and let it become my own. Vincent was a possibility, or at least he wanted to go out with me again, and there wasn't a negative thing about that. Possibilities were exciting, open ended, filled with risk and anticipation. In the case of Vin the risk appeared null, which made it easier to focus on the anticipation part.

  All week Alyssa texted me about Vincent and about the silly town event. She and Jacob had plans to pass out water guns and up the ante on the wet fun. She all out refused to listen when I warned that she'd get thrown out and banned from coming back. It was a halfhearted warning at best. Everyone loved her and her goofy husband. Their antics were welcomed.

  We made plans for her to come to my house on Thursday. Alyssa insisted at looking through my swimsuit collection and weighing in on which one I should wear on Saturday. Bearing in mind not just the town would be seeing me in it, but Vincent Berry would be ogling my body on our second date. I was having reservations about going to the event when she put it that way.

  “I haven't told my mama yet.” I was wearing a solid black one piece. Simple, with a classic neckline and skimpy enough down below I pulled a polka dot swim skirt over top.

  “She'll lose her ever loving mind.” Alyssa grumbled and shook her head at my swimsuit. “Maybe don't tell her until it's too late. Like on your way out the door, or the day after.”

  Her voice was dark as she joked, and her eyes critiqued my body and swimwear options. I owned all of three swimsuits. It wouldn't take long to narrow it down to the right one for the occasion.

  “I keep hoping she won't care. You know? It's been so many years since Lucian was around to make trouble. It's not like when I show up that's all people will talk a
bout.”

  “Of course not, hon.” She knew I needed her to say it. Plus it was probably true. She waved a hand at me, and I knew she didn't want to go down that road. The one-way highway into awkward, resentment, and trouble that came from discussing my brother.

  I pulled on a hot pink one piece with panels missing from the sides. At least it covered my entire butt.

  “This one has potential. Look at your hot little bod.” She viewed me from all sides and smacked my butt as she came back around.

  The last suit was my only two-piece. I'd only worn it trying to get sun in my backyard. It wasn't skimpy, and maybe didn't show any more skin than the one piece with the cut outs, but it still seemed like I was closer to being naked when I wore it. The bottom was yellow with coral stripes, a full seat, and a high waist. The top was coral with yellow straps and bow, fit like a bra with underwire and a little push up action.

  “What the hell? This is the ugliest swimsuit I have ever seen.” Alyssa screamed at me, her pleased level of surprise too big for my bedroom. “Then you put it on and holy hell. It shows how tiny your waist is and pushes your boobs out all over the place. Definitely that one.”

  The cut did accentuate my waist, but also that my hips were so much wider than my waist. Boobs all over the place didn't sound like a good thing, but I liked the support offered by cups.

  “Wear your high-waisted cut off shorts as a cover up.”

  “That barely constitutes a cover up!” I smacked her and began changing back into real clothes. I could see her point, and they'd pair well with the suit. I could bring a long sleeve white button up as well, roll the sleeves up and tie it off just above my waist. I'd be covered, but it would still be cute.

  “Vincent Berry is going to shit himself.”

  “I hope not, Alyssa.” She fell into a fit of giggles and I couldn't help joining her.

  All that remained was informing my mama that I planned to attend the silly Slip'n Slide shindig. I had several opportunities to mention my plans. They came and went, and I said nothing. I chickened out every time; my mouth refusing to utter the words. Mostly because conversation with my mama that week teetered between her working Friday night, and her friend's son whom she intended to set me up with. It might seem as if that was the perfect opportunity to inform her I was in fact going out with Vincent again, and therefore did not require her to find me a man to date. I knew better. I knew as soon as I said my next date was to take part in a big deal all out town festivity, she would double her efforts at finding me an appropriate date. Instead of facing the dating issue, I turned the topic to her work schedule and the damn hot weather and anything not to do with me.

  Dom: Tell me you're breaking tradition and planning to spend time throwing yourself down sheets of wet plastic.

  Dom: Next tell me when I can see you again. I'm hankering for another “date” with my best girl.

  Me: As it happens I am going to the stupid thing on Saturday. I do not intend to slip nor slide.

  Me: Come over Friday night. My mom will be out all night.

  I realized too late how that sounded. I cringed as I waited for his response.

  Dom: Magnolia Peach!

  Dom: I would love to come to your house when you are home alone and assist in debauchery.

  Me: OMG I said nothing of debauchery. You're ridiculous!

  Dom: Yeah, yeah, you know you love me. Jam first, then corruption of sweet innocent Maggie.

  Knowing I had plans to see Dominic soothed my frayed nerves. The anxiety that came from not thinking about his stupid brother and how much my heart ached for him despite the pain that lingered there as a reminder why that was a bad idea. The overwhelming apprehension that came with plans to be in next to no clothes all day with a boy I potentially liked while wondering if I was betraying my mama. I was a mess, and I needed that night with Dominic.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Magnolia

  For the last six years, my mama worked as a home health nurse, visiting patients in their homes. Fox River wasn't big enough to need much in the way of home health, and for years she worked all over, driving for hours from one small mountain town to another. It was a relief when she was finally able to secure the job with the agency that put her as the head nurse for Fox River. The hours were magnitudes better seeing all her patients in one area and not so spread out. Since she'd gotten her nursing degree, she'd been able to work one job instead of several. The pay was enough to keep normal hours. My mama worked hard, still, never able to feel secure financially. After knowing what it was like to be left jobless with two children, having to work three jobs and still struggle to get by, to put herself through school and come out on the other side, she never forgot those days. I knew each week, when her paycheck was automatically deposited into her bank account, she breathed a sigh of relief. Pennies were pinched more than strictly necessary, just in case, to appease that ever present background of fear. It was that residual fear that led her to occasionally take on extra work. Her name was on the list of nurses available to stay overnight with a patient, to give the family a break or fill in for a nurse that needed a shift off. It was rare she took one of those night shifts.

  “I'll be in Deep Gap all night. It should be easy. Truthfully, the patient is low needs, will sleep all night, and I won't have much to do. They only need an RN there to give the meds in the morning.”

  I sat at the bar snacking on pretzels and watched my mama pack a bag of snacks for her time at the patient's house. She'd already eaten dinner. I was waiting until after the jam. It would likely be nine before Dominic and I pulled off making dinner, and I'd be starved by that time if I didn't snack before heading out.

  She didn't like night shifts. It messed her up for days after. I was half tempted to tell her to stop doing them altogether. Especially since I'd finished college and pulled in my own steady income, she didn't need as much money coming in herself. She barely let me help out with bills, claiming I was still her little girl and she was well within her rights to take care of me. It allowed me to sock money away for when I eventually moved out and had my own place.

  “Hug your mother.”

  I dutifully hopped up and fell into her embrace. She was soft and comfortable and familiar in a way that felt like home. Her sweet cloying jasmine scent was caught in my nose, one more thing that was familiar as she was to me.

  “Be good!” She called out those last words as she left me alone.

  Be good. Right, as if I'd be anything other than good.

  She didn't ask if I had invited a boy over. She didn't ask about my plans at all. I swam in a dark mix of guilt for not having volunteered the information, and shame that I was somewhat pleased to be getting away with something. Mm hmm, being good, as usual. Or not. But I was able to let go of the back and forth of my worries, because the more I thought about it, the more I didn't care. What I had planned wasn't all that bad, in fact was so innocent as to mock my initial guilt at not sharing the plans.

  I scheduled my arrival at the jam so that it wouldn't risk my having to interact with the participants. Jam started at six. I walked into the city park at 6:15. It was a shitty thing to do to Dominic, who had texted me a quarter till six asking where I was. I told him I was running late. I was bad person and a liar, but I convinced myself it was barely a mis-truth and that it was for the greater good. I heard the music before I saw the group of players.

  Half way across the park, making a beeline for my Dogwood tree, I was intercepted by an angry boy.

  “I was worried.” His face was etched with it, and his chest heaved with the quick sprint he'd made to me.

  “Sorry, D.” Re-enter guilt. I was a bad friend.

  He hugged me. Pulled me right in there, with his mandolin gripped around the neck in one hand, and me suddenly gripped by the other.

  “I'm like a half hour late.” I mumbled into his shoulder and he released me. “I texted, you know, so you wouldn't worry.”

  “You're right.” He shook his head
; his face told me he couldn't shake off his feelings.

  “Go.” I shoved him, and he finally smiled at me. “I came here for the music, and it's not music without you.”

  “Ha. You are a shameless flirt when you wanna be, Maggie Bee.”

  Was I flirting? With Dominic? I was so wretched at flirting; I didn't even recognize it when I did it. He went to the uneven circle of musicians and I went to my shady spot. I hadn't bothered with the chair and cooler, instead opting to sit on the ground and sweat it out. My fingers tangled in the thick grass at the roots of the little tree, and I gave up worrying that my butt would be a mess of dirt and grass when I stood at the end of the jam.

  Cotton sat on the far side of the circle from where I sat to watch. It was his usual spot, unlike a couple weeks before when he'd put his back to me. My eyes were drawn to him. As a general rule, I didn't mind looking in his direction. Cotton MacKenna was nice to look at. His bright red hair was especially pretty in the sunlight. The problem was every time I looked his way, he caught me. I was fascinated by how often he looked at me, his heated gaze combing over me before bouncing away. His expression as intense as always. Not being a normal person, I didn't find it off-putting in the least. I was curious what he was thinking about, what was going on that he didn't speak up about, what made him cut his eyes to me so frequently. I wondered if he thought about the kiss.

  I wondered if he wanted a repeat or if he had regrets. Despite the way he'd torn himself away from me, I wasn't convinced it was what he wanted. The more I'd thought about it, the more I'd seen he was just doing what he thought was right. Not what he wanted.

  Dominic came over as soon as the jam wrapped up. Cotton packed up and lingered at the park, but didn't join us or say hi. Dom led me to his car, guiding me with a hand behind my back, warm and steady. He stopped a few times to talk with people, and I stood at his side wishing I knew how to respond. I never knew what to say other than muttering a hi or bye. A halfhearted how are you?, I'm fine thank you, thrown in because it was automatic. I paid attention to Dominic, the way he playfully teased folks, dropped easy compliments, and made it look so easy. He had told me that up front it came easy to him. I wasn't convinced I could learn to be so friendly or outgoing. I was getting better at one on one, at least with him, and that was enough progress.