“That's not good enough, Cotton. I already knew she wanted to be with you. What are you going to do about it?”
“It's already done. We are ... together.”
Was together the right word? I wanted to simply say, she is mine. It was wrong on so many levels how I wanted to broadcast the fact that Maggie Porter now belonged to me. I knew it was wrong to view her that way, but I didn't care. I had told her what it meant, and she had agreed willingly. Absurd as it was, she wanted to be mine. More importantly she wanted me to be hers as well. My heart soared, which made it unfeasible to continue talking with Dominic.
“Fuck you!” He was gleeful. And too loud for whatever ungodly hour it was too near sunrise. “About damn time. Good. This is good.”
“I'm taking her to the stupid Slip'n Slide thing tomorrow.”
“Well hell, Cotton, you don't do anything halfway.” His laughter was dark, and I focused on the soft gleam of his eyes in the dark house.
“What do you mean?” I had grown tired of this discussion before it began and my patience wore thin. “Be quick about it, I'm done with this.”
“I happen to know she was planning to attend that little town function with Vincent Berry. Well now, I understand why she will no longer be seeing him, but ...” He was leading up to something, a playful and knowing lilt to his voice. I pulled in a long breath to wait him out. “Weren't you telling me that people in town are up in arms because they were under the impression our sweet Maggie was dating both Vincent and me?”
“If by people in town, you mean a gaggle of bored girls with nothing better to do than gossip, then yes.”
“Obviously, yes, that is what I mean.” I knew he had rolled his eyes as he pitched his voice to be droll. I released a sigh that told him he had four seconds left to get to his point before I left him standing there talking to the landing at the base of the front stairs. “How is it going to look when she shows up with you?”
“Like she is with me.”
“Uh, no. Like she is with Vincent, me, and you.”
He was right. Shit.
“We will make it clear she is only with me.”
“How do you plan to do that? Don't tell me it involves pissing on her.” His laughter grated on my nerves.
“God damn it, Dominic.” He wasn't too far off base, at least not figuratively. I hadn't made specific plans, but as they came together in my mind there were many ways to show anyone looking that she was mine. Which of course was equivalent of pissing on the girl. “You spread the word that she is your friend, and has only ever been your friend. You were planning to do that anyway. Vincent will surely have his panties in a wad about being dropped, but he can get over it. They went out once; not like I stole his girlfriend.”
Girlfriend.
A woefully inadequate word, yet fraught with enough meaning it would do well to drop it around town.
“True enough. I will see you tomorrow, brother.”
He was entirely too pleased with himself. Rather than deck him, I let him go, so that I could finally make my way upstairs to dream about my girl.
***
I knew without a doubt that Stella Mae Porter hated me. She would not be indifferent to me, though she seemed to not care about Maggie's friendship with Dominic. She wasn't cautious of me based on rumors. No, that woman had been dealing with me as a pain in her ass for nearly twenty years. The first time we met was in the principal's office, after the first time I beat up her son. There were many such occasions to follow, all of which cemented her hatred for me. I saw it in her eyes each time she blamed me for the trouble Luke was in, and the relief that she could point the blame away from herself and her son. My mama was there for all those meetings too, and if there had been a chance of Stella Porter and Molly MacKenna being friends, their sons had dashed it. The difference between them, when we were all stuffed into an office and confessing our sins, was that my mama didn't blame me. I never said it to the principal or dean or police officer taking our accounts, but I always explained it to my mama after we left. I told her how Luke had picked on Maggie and I was protecting her. She wasn't proud of my tendency to solve my problems with my fists, but she understood I was doing it for the right reasons. That wasn't something that could be said for Maggie's mama. No, she hated me, and I was showing up at her house to take her daughter out.
More than that, I was showing up to introduce myself to her as Maggie's boyfriend. Meh, boyfriend for lack of a better word.
I was nervous. It had dawned on me that I wanted to get along with Mrs. Porter, I wanted her to like me and respect me, and I wanted her to be supportive of my being with her daughter. I didn't expect it up front. I would have to earn it. I was prepared to see this through, looking at the long range, and it had unleashed a flurry of nerves in me.
“Cotton MacKenna. Long time no see.” Mrs. Porter pulled the door open before I knocked. She had been waiting for me, which meant Maggie had told her I was coming. In retrospect I should have talked with Maggie that morning and planned what we would say. Together.
Stella was a beautiful woman, and I could see what Maggie would look like in some twenty-odd years. They shared the same eyes and mouth, the same tumultuous hair, similar body shape and mannerisms. Stress and age had fanned lines around her eyes, softened her body, and hardened her spirit. She lacked the sweetness that Maggie had in spades.
“Good morning, Mrs. Porter. Nice to see you, too.”
Her eyes squinted, pissed at my implication. I was holding it together and keeping it polite, she was on the verge of losing her shit. As soon as I was through the entryway, I sought Maggie. She hovered a few feet back, standing in the middle of the room, visibly upset. Ah, fuck. There was no way this was going well. I saw it playing out with my needing to protect her, needing to intervene when someone was hurting her, but fighting with her mama wasn't a good option. This felt suspiciously like a no win situation.
I moved immediately to her side and took her hand in mine. I had to touch her, hold her, forge a physical connection. All without kissing her because it was not the right time for that.
“How long have you been involved with my daughter?” She was wasting no time getting down to the nitty gritty. From her perspective, it was sudden. Hell, I could understand that along with her reservations.
“Officially? Since last night.” I kept my tone conversational.
“Unofficially?” She wanted to catch me in a lie or trap me in a bad position; she wanted to tear me apart. And I would let her. To an extent.
“Since Maggie was six, and I was eight. That's when I fell in love with your daughter.”
Maggie sucked in a breath, my revelation out of left field, and I wished I knew what she was thinking. I squeezed her hand, and left my attention on her mama.
“That's a bit overdramatic.” Somehow my words had eased her mind rather than set off alarm bells. Like my divulging something she found utterly ridiculous made my feelings null and void. “Let's say I allow you to take my child out on a date. What is it you will be doing with her?”
Stella Porter's arms were crossed over her chest, her chin was lifted and jaw set firm, her eyes issued a challenge doused in a warning. She was being protective, even if she was also being unreasonable. So, Maggie hadn't told her our plans. I couldn't even blame her, not when she knew how her mama would likely react. But it occurred to me that she must not have told her of her original plan to go with Vincent to the town water fun day. Either way, I got stuck on her phrasing: if I allow you. As if she had some say in the matter.
Keep it together, Cotton. Just long enough to walk out of this house and spend the remaining hours of the day and night with Maggie.
“Stop with the inquisition, Mama. I'll be back sometime tonight. We can talk in the morning.” Her voice was calm, words even, and it sounded like what she meant to say was I'm not a child.
“Where are you going? Don't I deserve to know where my only child will be all day? Would you have me sit here alone an
d worried, knowing you're out with a dangerous man -”
“That's enough.” I cut her off, and I did it with a roar. The one-way trip to drown in guilt wasn't on the agenda. “I am not dangerous, not to Magnolia. I understand your reservations where I am concerned, based on my past with Luke.”
I didn't miss the way her eyes widened then narrowed when I brought up Luke. After all these years he was a source of pain for her. Would always be. It was the same for me with my own mama. I had lost a parent and knew the bone deep pain of it, and I couldn't imagine how much worse it must be to lose a child. I didn't want to make things worse. But no way was I standing there while she dragged Maggie into a pit of despair and demanded that she stay there and keep her company.
“You are not welcome in my house, young man. You are certainly not permitted to take my daughter out.” She was making a bold stand. I pitied her because she was opening herself up to be defied. She had gone too far.
“Don't speak to him that way.” Maggie stepped forward, closer to her mama, but I wouldn't release her hand and let her go.
“How dare you bring him in this house! How dare you bring me pain! I thought you were a good girl, Magnolia.”
“You will not speak to her in that manner again.” I shifted Maggie behind me. My new life mission: get Maggie out of that house, away from her mother's toxic influence, as soon as possible. Not for the day. Permanently.
“You will not date Magnolia.” Her mother yelled back. I didn't care. I wasn't afraid of her. She had no power over me.
“There is nothing you can do or say that will change how I feel about Maggie. I am taking her to the Fox River City Park. She will be safe. With me and my family.”
“No.” Her eyes went around me to Maggie, searching and pleading. Panic rose with her voice and changed her face. “You can't go there. You remember what it's like. They'll all be talking about us.”
“Mama, it's not like that. Not anymore.” Maggie's soft voice was barely audible.
“I don't want you to go.” Enter last-ditch effort to guilt her into changing her mind.
“You don't have a say.” I was yelling again. Damn it.
“Don't yell at my mama.” Maggie pulled on my sleeve with her free hand, urging me to calm down.
“You're right. Sorry I raised my voice, Mrs. Porter. Excuse us for a second.”
I pulled Maggie a few feet away from the desperate pleas of her mama. Both her hands in mine, I held her tight and looked her in the eye. I watched the war within her, struggling to keep the peace while finding her own footing.
“Don't let her decide. This is your life, sweetheart. What do you want to do?”
“I don't know what I want. But I don't want to upset her.”
“She is a grown ass woman.” I didn't say it unkindly, only as a blatant reminder. “Your mama is strong and smart, and she can handle whatever it is you choose to do.”
This was a fact that would take some convincing over a number of months or years. When Maggie dipped her chin, I dropped one of her hands in favor of tipping her face back up. Her warm brown eyes were conflicted as they met mine.
“What do you want to do, Magnolia?” I asked the question softly, imploring her to think for herself and not base her decision on the outcome of her mama's emotional roller coaster. “If you want to hang out in a bathing suit with a few hundred of our closest neighbors and friends, then let's go. If not, I am okay with that. We can do our hike up to Raven Falls. We can have a Netflix marathon and not move all day. We can drive to Asheville and walk downtown until our feet hurt. What do you want to do?”
“I want to go to the stupid Slip'n Slide thing.”
“Okay. Now let's go.”
Her hand still firmly in mine, I led the way back to the center of the living room. Mrs. Porter was on the verge of tears. The woman was legitimately upset. I couldn't be sure if it had to do with me, or the town event, or simply Maggie defying her. Maybe the reality of her own life turning out so differently than she'd planned.
“Maggie would like to attend the town event.” I kept my voice even. No yelling. No dark sarcasm or scathing words. Simple and honest and nothing else. “She would like for me to escort her. I will do what she wants me to do for as long as she'll let me, because her happiness is crucial to me. I'll ask you not to make this harder on her than you already have. I can assure you that she will be safe and well taken care of.”
I tugged her right on out the front door, only pausing when Maggie reached for a tote bag and basket I hadn't noticed near the exit. I took the basket while she shouldered the bag, and I refused to let go of her hand. Ever.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cotton
The weather was perfect for an outdoor watery event, if by perfect I meant blazing sun and incessant heat. No sooner were we off the front porch headed toward my truck was I sweating. I half dragged Maggie away from her house, determined to put space between her and the nay saying we left behind. I shoved her things inside the truck, then pushed her back against the vehicle. Kissing was inevitable. Not kissing her would have been a slow death. Only after thoroughly tasting every bit of her mouth and face, did I break away. I held her head between my hands, painfully aware how precious she was to me.
My heart beat out a warning: too fast, too fast, too fast. I was afraid my pace would frighten her.
She was wrapped up in a crisp white collared shirt, the sleeves rolled to her elbows, in shorts cut to show the full length of her legs.
“You look amazing. I will never get over being allowed to touch you when I want.”
Touch her I did, sliding my hands down her body to clutch at her waist. She panted gently and smiled up at me. Her eyes were wide in amazement and her happiness was tempered with her awareness of our location.
I nodded and tucked her into the truck.
She changed the music on the radio, switching away from the local public radio to the classic rock station. I blamed Dominic's influence for her choice.
“What kind of music do you listen to?” All I knew was that it wasn't bluegrass, and it wasn't likely classic rock either.
“Everything.” She shrugged and held her lower lip between her teeth. “Mostly singer songwriter folk stuff.”
She listed off names I hadn't heard and I made her promise to play me the songs sometime soon. Her smile was sweet and secretive, and I realized she was glad I had asked to hear the music she liked. I made a mental note it was important to her.
I could tell she was nervous about showing up in town. The plan, despite wanting to keep her to myself, was to meet up with my brothers as soon as possible, because it would help her feel more comfortable.
“You're going to have fun.” I assured her. More than once. A promise.
“I'm neither slipping nor sliding, just so we're clear.” She swallowed, and I watched her throat and threw the truck into park.
“What is it you plan to do all day?”
“Walk around holding your hand. Get a killer tan. Eat good food.”
Hell yeah. This was a plan I could get behind.
“Come on then.”
I carried her bag and the basket despite her protests that she was perfectly capable of carrying something. I marched her through the crowd to the sprawling river oak on the far north side of the park. Beau had promised to secure a spot in a less populated area. That tree was as far from the festivities you could get while still at the park. Families were spread on blankets, children running wild screaming and dripping with melted popsicles, moms yelling about sunscreen, dads setting up portable charcoal grills and cracking open beers.
“Oh my goodness. Did you do all this?” Maggie came to a sudden halt and waved a hand at the set up.
“Nah, it was Beau.”
“Mostly Elliot, actually.” My brother admitted without a drop of shame, happy to pass the credit where due.
Beau popped up from out of nowhere and pulled Maggie away from me to hug her. In order to pretend I wasn't stupid
with jealousy, I busied myself depositing her things on the corners of the blanket set out for us.
“Where is Elliot?” Beau kept an arm around Maggie's shoulders as she inquired after his boyfriend.
“He went in search of frozen lemonade. He'll be back soon.” I watched while still pretending to not watch, as Beau squared off with my girl. He studied her and her cheeks went pink. “Dom told us. About you and Cotton. We couldn't be happier. Cotton couldn't do any better than you, dear girl. Not to jump the gun, but when are you moving in and making babies?”
She gasped. Beau cackled. I grumbled.
“Maggie Peach, about damn time.” Dominic sprinted up to her and scooped her up into his arms. It was proving difficult to stomach my brothers man-handling her.
“That is not her middle name. It's Jane.”
“Magnolia Jane? And all this time you've let me keep guessing?” Dominic acted shocked, hand to his chest and the full drill.
“Jane is boring. I like your guesses better.”
“I don't understand you two.” I reclaimed her hand and thanked my lucky stars that she had fessed up earlier to wanting to hold hands all day. It was about to happen.
“You don't need to, brother.” Dom sassed me and I flipped him the bird. Not missing a beat, he answered with one of his own. “Down to business. I am going to flirt my way through every female at the park, making sure to drop information to each and every one that Maggie Rose and I are only friends.”
“What? Why?” Maggie looked confused, and if I wasn't mistaken, a little hurt.
“Because you are only friends.” I said the words meaning for them to be obvious. Instead they came out like I was staking a claim. Damn.
“Obviously. But why the need to urgently spread the word?” She looked between me and Dom and back. “Oh! Is it Emily? She was acting weird when I was out with ... well, when I saw her the other day.”
“She was pissed you were cheating on me.” Dom shrugged, his mouth twisting into a rueful grin. They both danced around saying Vincent Berry's name out loud. The more they didn't say it, the more it popped into my mind. “Ludicrous. As if you would cheat on me.”
The Guilt of a Sparrow Page 19