Margo's Lullaby

by Groves, B.

  Dean couldn’t remember the exact details, but he would look it up later.

  Dean walked towards the custodian entrance, and if he was caught without being in class, he would think of some excuse, but then a flash of a young blonde girl almost sent him into a tailspin.

  He needed to gather his wits before re-entering the school. What was happening to him? Why now?

  The face belonged to Margo Ryan.

  Chapter 7

  “When were you going to tell me?” Gabby asked, lifting an eyebrow.

  Pamela Monroe-Romano feigned innocence at Gabby’s accusation. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows rose in mock surprise.

  Pamela and Gabby had been friends since elementary school, and Gabby was grateful for their friendship to this day. Pamela and her family were supportive after “The Day,” and came out publicly to support the Ryan family after the shooting.

  Pamela was tall, and lean with olive skin, and auburn hair she used to wear past her shoulders, but now cut in a pixie cut after her son was born.

  “It’s so much easier,” she said.

  Gabby thought it suited her face well, and her deep brown eyes were expressive.

  She was teased throughout their time in school for her big nose, and nasally voice, but still married her high school sweetheart Anthony—Tony among friends.

  Gabby looked down at the newborn she was holding in her arms, Anthony Jr., and smiled. He was sound asleep and not a care in the world.

  Anthony Jr. was seven weeks old with a full head of black hair like his father

  Tony was a poker dealer at one casino about an hour away and worked most weekends. Pamela worked in the promotions departments at another casino but was out on maternity leave. They were talking about Tony taking a promotion, so Pamela could become a full-time mother.

  Gabby gave her friend a “you know what I’m talking about” look and turned back to Anthony Jr.

  Pamela laughed, standing up to retrieve their coffee and lunch when she heard their names called.

  Gabby gazed around the coffee shop, and the placed was packed to the gills.

  A local coffee shop opening in a small town was huge for the local economy, especially since it was open year round. A rare treat for the locals, and to attract more tourists to the sleepy resort.

  The coffee shop was decorated with warm maroon walls and chestnut tables. Recliners and sofas scattered around the dining area for those looking to relax.

  The nautical décor placed almost haphazardly around the walls, with everything from a pirate ship to a huge wooden anchor in the middle with Seven Hills carved into the bottom of the decoration.

  Seven Hills had a long history dating back to the 1600s. The area was founded by various explorers, but officially founded by Nathan Hill, his wife Sarah, and their five children when they sailed over from England around 1689. Thus, the name Seven Hills. The area was perfect for farming, fishing, and scavenging. It attracted more settlers as years passed, and even became a battleground in the Revolutionary War. There were rumors that George Washington stayed in the area, but historians were never able to confirm this.

  The area was also a popular attraction for ghost hunters. Many of the bed and breakfasts claimed to be haunted, but Gabby never took those stories seriously. One of the beaches has a legend of a pirate ghost and if you see him then you will die exactly one week later.

  Boats lined the marinas, and every summer, if you went to the beach, you would set your gaze upon hundreds of fisherman or boaters enjoying the weather and their vacations. You would see the small planes carrying their advertisement banners over the beaches from local businesses to attract the tourists to their locations. You could hear the click-click-click of the roller coaster climbing to the top of the track during the season, and the cries of the riders when it came back down at 100 miles per hour. You could smell the different foods from local pizza joints to ice cream, and funnel cake frying in vats of oil.

  Fishing and tourism were the main attractions of Seven Hills. The fishing industry brought in millions of dollars a year of revenue for the permanent residents. Depending on the weather, tourism could bring in almost a billion dollars.

  Gabby eyed the different paintings on the walls as her thoughts turned back to the present. She was always comparing other art to her own. Some of them looked like cheap knockoffs, but others made her jealous of her own limitations. She loved the anchor on the wall with its intricate design all the way down to the frayed rope wrapping the shank and the flukes that screamed hand-carved from her trained eye. Her father tried to take her artistic talent a step further and introduced her to wood carving, but Gabby never got the hang of it.

  One, in particular, caught her attention. It was a painting of the boardwalk around the turn of the century. The photographic detail of the men and women’s fashion of the time was something Gabby could appreciate. The artist had really taken the time to make sure they were accurate.

  Gabby turned back to the sound of small talk filling the air along with the sweet scents of cinnamon, and vanilla. The coffee grinder going off every few minutes while the baristas ran around to fill orders.

  Anthony Jr. would stir when the grinder came on but fell right back to sleep.

  “He’s already a light sleeper,” Pamela sighed, and Gabby caught the circles under her eyes.

  Gabby gazed out of the huge windows to clouds hovering over Turtle Cove. It had been raining all week after the initial snowstorm washing all the snow away and leaving dark and dreary days in its wake.

  Picnic tables were placed outside on a newly built deck with umbrellas that were closed and wrapped up for the season. That didn’t stop a few stragglers from venturing outside to enjoy the view and the coffee.

  “This is the best coffee you’ll ever have. It doesn’t taste like battery acid, like Starbucks,” Pamela said putting their cups on the table.

  Gabby looked over the baguette ham and cheese sandwich she ordered, along with the blueberry scone, and her mouth watered.

  Gabby eyed the different paintings on the walls as her thoughts turned back to the present. She was always comparing other art to her own. Some of them looked like cheap knockoffs, but others made her jealous of her own limitations.

  One, in particular, caught her eye. It was a painting of the boardwalk around the turn of the century. The detail in the men and women’s fashion of the time was something Gabby could appreciate, all the way down to the shoes they wore. The artist had really taken the time to make sure they were accurate.

  The sound of small talk filled the air along with the sweet scents of cinnamon, and vanilla. The coffee grinder going off every few minutes while the baristas ran around to fill orders.

  Anthony Jr. would stir when the grinder came on but fell right back to sleep.

  “He’s already a light sleeper,” Pamela sighed, and Gabby caught the circles under her eyes.

  Gabby gazed out of the huge windows to clouds hovering over Turtle Cove. It had been raining all week after the initial snowstorm washing all the snow away and leaving dark and dreary days in its wake.

  Picnic tables were placed outside on a newly built deck with umbrellas that were closed and wrapped up for the season. That didn’t stop a few stragglers from venturing outside to enjoy the view and the coffee.

  “This is the best coffee you’ll ever have. It doesn’t taste like battery acid, like Starbucks,” Pamela said putting their cups on the table.

  Gabby looked over the baguette ham and cheese sandwich she ordered, along with the blueberry scone, and her mouth watered.

  Pamela ordered the beef sandwich with au jus, and a cranberry muffin.

  Gabby loved to bake, and she could immediately tell the bread was made from scratch.

  Her eyes darted around when they arrived. She was always wary of places whenever she went out, but especially now that she moved back into town, she was on even higher alert.

  “Don’t worry,” Pamela said taking Anthony Jr. from Gabby and p
lacing him back in his portable car seat. “Most of these people are not long time residents.”

  “I know,” Gabby answered.

  Pamela smiled at her son, and Gabby found herself jealous of her friend’s happiness. She wondered if she would ever feel such love for another human being. Unconditional love. She wondered if anyone would ever love her unconditionally without judgment of what happened to her and her family.

  Gabby put her usual cream and sugar into the coffee and took a tentative sip.

  The hot sweetness flowed smoothly down her throat.

  She lit up when Pamela sat down, her obvious delight making Pamela smile.

  “Good, isn’t it?”

  “They are masters,” Gabby said taking another sip of the hot brew.

  “So?” Gabby asked.

  “So, what? I can’t help it Dean bought a house near mine,” Pamela said looking over her sandwich.

  “But, you didn’t tell me,” Gabby said.

  “I didn’t because I knew you wouldn’t rent the house,” her friend shot back.

  Gabby took a bite of her sandwich and found it was just as delicious as she thought.

  “Wow,” she mumbled.

  “This place is amazing,” Pamela commented.

  “You’re right. I wouldn’t have, and now I have to live near him and he hates me as it is,” Gabby said.

  Pamela chewed her sandwich in thought. “He doesn’t hate you. I don’t care what he might have said the other morning. He needs to find out the truth about what happened that day on his own. He thinks you ran away when Margo told you too.”

  “Has he asked you?”

  “He has, and I refuse to tell him.”

  Gabby nodded and placed her sandwich back on the plate. She didn’t want a flash of memories today, but since they were conversing about Dean, she knew it was inevitable.

  “He’s still in love with you,” Pamela said matter-of-factly.

  Gabby looked down and blushed. “No, he isn’t.”

  Pamela cocked her head. “Gabby, come on. He wouldn’t have reacted the way he did if he wasn’t.”

  “That doesn’t signal anything. I don’t want to cause him any more pain,” Gabby said.

  Pamela rolled her eyes. “You know what I think. I think you should tell him you saved his damn life that day while you watched your sister kill herself.”

  Pamela said it loud it enough to turn heads, and her eyes widened in immediate regret.

  She placed a hand over her mouth and gasped. “I’m sorry, honey.”

  Gabby sank down into her chair and waited for the stares to pass. She heard the murmurs going on around her and stiffened. She waited, but fortunately, no one said anything to her.

  Gabby then reached over and took Pamela’s other hand. “It’s all right. I’m used to it.”

  “You need to stop using that line,” Pamela commented squeezing her friend’s hand back. “You don't deserve this.”

  Gabby leaned back and sipped her coffee. “I need to know.”

  Pamela eyed her sympathetically. “I know you do, but what are you going to do if you find out who it was?”

  “I haven’t thought that far ahead,” Gabby said. "He was all Margo talked about before.”

  “In her diary,” Pamela said.

  “Yes.”

  “You know Tony and I are here for you,” Pamela said with a smile to her friend. “I wish I could talk you out of going to the memorial, though.”

  Gabby smiled back at her. “You can’t, but I appreciate the support.”

  Pamela sighed and said, “I know, but we’ll be there.”

  Pamela was eating lunch with Tony the day of the shooting at a fast food place. Gabby originally planned to join them when Margo went missing the night before, and Gabby left a note in Margo’s locker to meet her in the library if she decided to show up at school that day.

  “When I found out it was Margo…” Pam said, years later after she visited Gabby. “I thought you were dead too. The kids running out saying it was her, and all I could think was you were in the library, and that she shot you by accident or maybe on purpose.”

  The two women ate and talked, and Gabby relaxed with the ease of the conversation as it turned from bad memories to current ones.

  Gabby could tell that Pamela was grateful that Gabby moved back to Seven Hills, and Gabby was forever grateful for her best friend.

  No one in the coffee shop gave Gabby a second glance after Pamela’s initial outburst, and Gabby could feel the tension slipping away.

  She’d walked through the grocery store the day before and scolded her own paranoia. No second glances, no recognition. She did her shopping and quietly went home. Then got lost in her watercolors to soothe her anxiety.

  She would glance out of the window to see Dean’s car in his driveway but tried to ignore it.

  She knew deep down that nothing could ever resolve the hurt and the pain he was feeling no matter how much Pamela tried to convince Gabby otherwise.

  Their confrontation on the walking trail told Gabby all she needed to know about Dean.

  He didn’t want to face his own memories, and all the pent-up resentment he had about being shot was directed towards her.

  Pamela told her that Dean fell into the wrong crowds for a while after the shooting and got involved with a girl who took him on a downward spiral.

  That wasn’t the Dean she remembered. She remembered the sweet, shy baseball catcher who almost sat at her table that day to talk to her.

  For what her sister did, it consumed all of their lives, and no matter how much Dean wanted to deny it, they would forever be connected.

  “Gabrielle Ryan?”

  Gabby closed her eyes for a moment. She mentally prepared herself for a conversation. It could always go either way when someone recognized her. She was always prepared with having a pleasant talk or a bad one.

  Gabby looked up into the dark eyes and wide face of Jason McConnell.

  “Hi Jason,” Pamela said, as Anthony Jr. whimpered from his portable car seat.

  Jason McConnell, son of Michael McConnell, the chemistry teacher now turned Principal of Seven Hills High School.

  Jason, the popular jock and quarterback of the football team. If you wanted clichés for a typical jock, then Jason fit the bill perfectly.

  Tall, athletic, with looks to rival any current male movie star.

  You’d think Jason would have the arrogant personality on top of everything else, but Gabby remembered him differently. He was soft-spoken except on the field and was never the bully to other kids in school. She remembered Michael McConnell being more aggressive than his son. She also remembered one night at a party, Jason getting drunk and saying how much he hated his dad for pushing him so hard.

  Gabby was never into jocks in school, except a certain baseball player, so she never knew Jason well.

  Jason McConnell towered above Gabby in a police uniform. His standard issue firearm almost slapping Gabby in the face, he was that close.

  “Hey Pam,” Jason said only glancing at Pamela as she grabbed Anthony’s bottle from the diaper bag to get him ready to feed him. “Is that you, Gabby?” He asked turning back to her.

  Gabby smiled up to Jason, and he returned the favor.

  His dark blonde hair a short buzz cut. His smooth face perfectly clean-shaven.

  “Hi, Jason. Yes, it’s me,” Gabby said.

  “Gabby,” he began with a huge grin. “So nice to see you!”

  “You too.”

  Jason stepped back and put his arms out. “You look great!”

  Gabby took the signal, stood up, and went into Jason’s big, burly embrace. She felt like a porcelain doll about to break in half from his hug.

  “Thank you! Uniform? It looks good on you.” Gabby wasn’t lying.

  Jason turned a modest shade of red and smiled. “Thank you.”

  “Would you like to sit down?” Gabby asked.

  Jason glanced at the clock and nodded. “I have
a few minutes.”

  Jason made himself comfortable in an empty chair and looked at Pamela feeding Anthony, Jr.

  “How’s the little guy?” He asked.

  “Keeping me up at night.”

  “How’s Tony?”

  “The same. Working this weekend like all of us good casino slaves,” Pam said, placing Anthony, Jr. over her shoulder to burp him.

  Jason laughed and turned back to Gabby. Gabby was kind of glad Jason wasn’t talking to her for a minute. She had time to gather her thoughts.

  “I am so surprised to see you,” he said, his eyes giving her another once over. He looked like his father in every way except his eyes, which were the color of chocolate. “Are you back in town visiting?”

  Gabby had to choose her words carefully. She didn’t want to give away her real motive for being here, especially now that Jason McConnell was a cop.

  “I’m doing a project here, so yeah, I am living here for a little while,” she answered taking a sip of her coffee.

  Jason looked a little skeptical at first, but his facial expressions relaxed. “A project? What do you do now?”

  “I’m a graphic designer,” Gabby said. “I have a big project going on in Philadelphia.”

  Gabby wasn’t lying. One of her biggest clients was from Philadelphia, and she would travel to the city next week for updates.

  “You always were the artist of the class. How long will you be here?”

  Gabby smiled. “Not sure, could be months, a year maybe. I work from home most of the time, but sometimes clients need me in person.”

  “You’re independent?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nice. Where are you staying?”

  Gabby wasn’t comfortable with the questions, but humored Jason. She didn’t see a ring on his left finger. The last time she saw Jason McConnell he was dating Amber Reilly one of the star basketball players from Seven Hills. Gabby guessed that didn’t work out.

  “I’m renting Pam’s parents old house,” she answered.