Light in the Shadows

by A. Meredith Walters

  Oh. Well, there was that.

  I swear the air left my lungs and I felt like I was suffocating. My heart started beating in overtime and I thought I might pass out. It was nuts how just the mention of her name caused such an instant physical response. It was like my body reacted on a primal level to it.

  Ruby and I never talked about Maggie. At least not in a very long time. I rarely mentioned Maggie at all unless it was within the safe confines of therapy. My memories of Maggie Young had proven complicated. My crazy, fucked up mind had succeeded in twisting my beautiful girl into something that caused me complete and total anxiety. The darkness that lived and breathed inside of me, while kept at bay for the most part, still worked to destroy the one thing that I had wanted most in my life.

  The girl I loved beyond reason. The one person who had been prepared to walk off the cliff with me.

  And I had almost let her.

  “Maggie?” I choked out, trying not to strangle on the effort it took to say her name.

  Ruby nodded, her mouth tight with worry. I knew she was scared that mentioning the girl I had loved and lost would make me lose it. And part of me wanted to lose it. It bubbled there, just beneath the surface. The panic fluttered in my stomach and I struggled to keep it under control. I was tempted to get angry. To give into the rage that I felt when I realized how I may have sorted some crap out but in the process I had unleashed even more.

  But I held on to that rational part of Clayton Reed who recognized the futility of my anger and panic. Knowing that it wouldn’t accomplish anything but set me back even further. I needed to work through these tangled emotions and sort through the chaos they still created. Maggie wasn’t the boogeyman. She was my light. My reminder of what I wanted in my life. Of what I strove to have again.

  Holding onto that, I picked up the gift again and set it in my lap, fingering the creases in the folded paper. “She came into the shop last week,” Ruby began, watching me closely. I worked hard to keep my face perfectly neutral when inside I was cursing the fucking cosmos, fate, whatever, for this god damned tragedy that I called a life.

  “Oh yeah?” I asked with the fakest attempt at casual that I had ever heard. It was laughable. I would have laughed if I hadn’t wanted to cut my fucking skin until I bled.

  Damn it! I would not feel this way!

  So I took a deep breath and counted to ten. I found my shiny happy people place in my head and got my shit together. Because as much as it hurt, I had to hear about Maggie. I was starved for her. I craved just the sound of her name. So even though my body and mind labored under the turmoil she unleashed inside me, I would suck it up. Because nothing could keep me from finding out what she had wrapped beneath the newspaper in my lap.

  Ruby took another deep breath and continued. “I hadn’t seen her since right after you had come to Florida. Lisa had mentioned that she had seen her at that coffee shop in town. She’s working there now.” I nodded, encouraging her to keep going before I decided that I couldn’t hear any more.

  “She looked beautiful as always. Though I can tell she’s lost some weight and she was already too skinny,” Ruby rambled and I felt the guilt for the possibility that I had anything to do with Maggie’s weight loss. My hands clenched around the package until my fingers ached.

  “Did she seem…okay?” I couldn’t help but ask. Because if she wasn’t…

  What would I do? If Ruby told me Maggie was miserable and depressed, would I break the promise I made to myself to leave her alone? I didn’t know. The only thing I did know was that I couldn’t live my life knowing that she was unhappy. My refusal to contact her, my reasons for sending my letter, was for her to have a clean break. To let go of me and to live her life.

  But if she was as miserable being away from me as I was being away from her, then I would throw all of my foolish good intentions straight out the window.

  “Yes, Clayton. She seemed okay. A little uncomfortable maybe, but she was good,” Ruby told me and I hated the selfish disappointment that I felt. What sort of asshole did that make me? Did I want Maggie to be unhappy? Of course not. But if she was doing alright, then it confirmed I had made the best decision in leaving her alone. And that was a hard pill to swallow, even if it was the right thing to do.

  “Well, that’s…uh…good to hear,” I stuttered, looking down at my white knuckles. I wasn’t sure I’d survive this conversation. This was tearing me apart. Ruby eyed me again as if waiting for me to grow another head or something.

  I sat up a little straighter and met her eyes. “That’s great actually,” I said more firmly and forced myself to smile. Ruby’s face relaxed marginally.

  “Yes, it is,” Ruby agreed. She cleared her throat. “She came in to look over the new books. I told her it was good to see her but I tried to leave her alone. She didn’t seem to want to talk much and I didn’t want to push her.” I could only imagine how awkward seeing Ruby had been for Maggie.

  There was a moment of silence and I thought that was it. But I should have known better. Ruby was notorious for dragging a story out. You could either find it endearing or exasperating. Right now I was leaning towards the latter.

  “She got some books and then just as she was leaving she handed me that. She said it was for you. For your birthday. She asked that I make sure you got it because she didn’t know where to send it.” Ruby gave me a pointed look then. One that clearly said she thought I was an idiot for keeping my whereabouts a mystery from Maggie. She just didn’t get how hard that decision had been for me to make. How some days I questioned my judgment so loudly that it took everything in me to not pick up the phone and call her. Maggie was my weakness. My compulsive addiction that once fed wouldn’t let go.

  At one time, I thought she was the healthiest, purest thing in my life. And part of me still did. But now, with a clear head, I was able to see how the darkness had tainted so much of what we were. And Maggie needed more than what I could currently give her. The back and forth, tug and pull of my feelings about that beautiful girl had become a daily struggle. One that no matter how much time passed or how much distance was between us, would never let up.

  “I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to give it to you, Clayton,” Ruby told me, resting a startlingly piercing gaze in my direction. For all of her feigned ditziness, it concealed a sharp mind and an even sharper eye. Ruby saw more than I ever gave her credit for. And something told me that she knew all too well how hard I struggled, even with the strides I was making.

  I grimaced in understanding at her hesitance. I got it. Really, I did. “It’s cool,” I assured her, hoping like hell she believed my pile of bullshit.

  Not waiting any longer, I pulled at the wrapping and tossed it on the floor. At the first glimpse of the dark, charcoal butterfly on the cover, I had to sit back and take a minute. Because this girl was going to undo me from a thousand miles away. She was getting ready to rip my fucking heart out.

  You see, I recognized that butterfly. Because I had drawn it myself. For her.

  For Maggie.

  “What the hell?” I asked to myself, pulling the leather bound book from the last scraps of paper. Opening it up, I realized it was a scrap book. Page after page, Maggie had carefully placed my drawings on plain mattes. They were the ones from my bedroom wall in Virginia. And the ones I had given her.

  Every single one was there. Every. Single. One.

  Ruby was looking at the pictures over my shoulder as I flipped through. I turned to my aunt. “When did she do this? When did she get my pictures?” I asked in absolute disbelief. I was stunned by what was in my hands. Like a piece of me had been returned. As though, once again, Maggie May Young had swooped into the rescue.

  I couldn’t put into words the way my heart literally opened up at seeing these pictures again. It was easily one of the most amazing and thoughtful gifts I had ever received. As if I could expect anything less from the girl who had made it her mission to save me from myself.

  Ruby traced her f
inger along a picture of Maggie’s face that I had drawn in pencil. I loved that drawing. I remembered the day I had done it. She had come over to my house to study and had ended up falling asleep. I loved it when she did that. The absolute peace that I would feel as I watched her deep, even breathing was indescribable. Yeah, so maybe it sounds a little creepy. But it wasn’t. It was beautiful and perfect. And gave me the illusion that my life had made sense. If only for a little while.

  So I had drawn her. I was compelled to try and capture that moment when Maggie was completely unguarded and open. Some small part of me recognized, even then, that I was hurting her. That as she swore that she was happy, I had seen the strain my crap was causing. Seeing her sleep helped me create this picture in my head that things were just the way they should be. Crazy how I had always been able to create the most fucked up justifications for the equally fucked up things I did.

  My heart thudded in my chest at the weight of what this album meant. This wasn’t put together by a girl who was putting a shitty relationship behind her. By an ex-girlfriend desperate to move on. No, this whole thing screamed at me. Yelling with a vengeance that I needed to wake up and see how much she still loved me.

  And there was a selfish relief in that. I was glad to know that she hadn’t forgotten me, even if I had told her to. I was such a dick. Because I wanted her to miss me, to long for me, to crave me the way I craved her. Which was one hundred percent contradictory to the martyred act I had been playing for the past three months. The reason that I had sent her the letter to begin with.

  I knew I would never be over Maggie. And knowing I wasn’t alone in that, that she was feeling it as intensely as I was, made me feel unfairly happy. Unfair, because I shouldn’t want that for her. But damned if I didn’t want it all the same.

  And I hated myself for feeling that way.

  “She came over to the house, not long after you were sent here. She asked to go up to your room, that there were things she needed to get from up there. Lisa and I didn’t see the harm. Not after everything,” Ruby stopped abruptly. There was no sense in her continuing that particular sentence. We both knew how much Maggie had been through.

  I continued to thumb through the pages. Ruby and I remained quiet as I took it all in. These pictures that reminded me so much of the one bright spot I had during the darkest times of my life. Of the girl who had tried to save me even as I destroyed her.

  Shit, I was going to fucking cry. I felt the tears prick in my eyes and I rubbed them away with the heel of my hand. I squeezed my eyes shut.

  Deep breath.

  One. Two. Three.

  Deep breath.

  I opened my eyes, lingering on Maggie’s face in front me. It had been so long since I had seen her that I couldn’t look away. But then I flipped back to the front of the book. And then I saw something that I hadn’t noticed earlier. On the bottom corner of the inside cover, a piece of paper was tapped to the leather.

  It was from Maggie. Christ, she had written me a note. I wasn’t sure I could read it. Not when I was already feeling like I had been run over by an eighteen wheeler.

  But I did anyway. As if I could ever resist her.

  And I was glad that I did.

  There is more beauty inside you than in anyone I have ever met. These pictures don’t lie. I won’t ever forget you. Or stop loving you. You can ask me to. You can tell me to move on. But I won’t. And I never will. Just don’t forget how beautiful we were. How beautiful we can still be. Please.

  -Maggie

  Ruby had looked away, sensing I needed a moment. Another round of deep breathing and I made myself close the scrap book and put it on the table. Looking though that book was like ripping a band aid off a barely healed wound. Letting the blood flow without even trying to staunch it. I didn’t know what to do with this fresh round of emotional turmoil that I found myself in. Maybe I should journal it.

  And maybe I should start wearing a fucking tutu and take up ballet.

  “Thanks for bringing it Ruby. I appreciate it.” I gave her a hug and I really did mean what I said. As much as it had hurt, it had been a kind of necessary pain. Because Maggie was entirely too necessary in every aspect of my life.

  Ruby and I were able to enjoy the rest of our time together without any more drama. Jacqui came back thirty minutes later and let us know that we’d have to wrap up our visit. “Where are you staying?” I asked Ruby as she gathered up her bag and we made our way to the office door.

  “I’ve gotten a room at the Comfort Inn over by the airport. I have an early morning flight,” Ruby said, going up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek.

  “I still can’t believe you flew down here for one night. You’re crazy. But awesome. Definitely awesome,” I said with affection as Ruby looped her arm with mine. Jacqui and I followed Ruby out. And after a few more hugs, my amazing aunt got into her rental car and headed to her hotel.

  The scrap book felt like a weight in my hands.

  Chapter Six

  -Clay-

  I went to my room, forgoing the movie playing in the common room. I was hoping to avoid my friends, needing to be alone. I practically fell on my bed and threw an arm over my eyes. I wanted to sleep but knew that with the way my mind was whirling, that wouldn’t happen.

  So I sat up and pulled out Maggie’s scrap book, taking longer to go through the pages this time. Lingering over each and every picture. Making myself remember when I had drawn them and why. Forcing the memories that both tortured and thrilled me.

  There were dozens of drawings depicting Maggie’s face. I had never been able to get enough of drawing her. She was, and still is, my favorite subject. My eyes followed the slope of her jaw line, the small divot in her chin. The tiny freckle above her lip that I remembered touching with my tongue. Her hair, thick and heavy in my hands as I moved it away from her neck so that I could kiss the sensitive spot at the nape that would always make her shiver.

  I looked up at the clock on the wall and without allowing any time to talk myself out of the crazy idea that had just popped into my head; I got to my feet and headed out into the hallway.

  I headed toward Jacqui’s office again and knocked softly. “Come in,” I heard her say on the other side. I opened the door and walked in. She looked up at me in surprise. “Clay, didn’t I just see you?” she joked.

  I gave her a tight smile, gearing myself up for the lie I was about to tell. “I wanted to know if I could call Lisa, Ruby’s partner. She wasn’t able to make it down and I wanted to thank her for my gifts,” I said, proud and a little disappointed with how easily dishonesty still tripped off my tongue. But phone calls were limited to immediate family members and those deemed “integral members” of my support system. So the lie was necessary.

  Jacqui smiled. “Of course. Do you have your calling card?” she asked me. I pulled the small paper card out of my pocket and held it up. “Well, come have a seat. I’ll give you some privacy,” Jacqui said kindly, getting up to leave her office.

  “Thanks,” I told her, reaching for the phone. Once I was alone and the office door closed behind Jacqui, I took a deep breath and quickly dialed the number burned into my brain. It started to ring and I had to stop myself from hyperventilating. Shit, I was really doing this. Why the fuck was I doing this? Maybe I should hang up.

  Me and my dumb spontaneity. Hadn’t I learned that it wasn’t always smart to jump in the water with all my clothes on? To hang up or to not hang up, that really was the question. And how long was I going to sit here and debate with myself about it?

  Yeah, I should just hang up. Doing this now, after such a long time would only serve to dredge up a mountain of shit. My finger twitched and hovered over the end button. And then it was too late.

  Because I heard her voice and there was no longer a decision to be made. She still had me firmly by the balls. There was no way I could hang up. Not now.

  “Hello?” Maggie’s voice was breathy, as though she had to rush to get to her phone. I didn�
��t say anything, rendered mute, goosebumps breaking out over my skin. God, this was a mistake. What the hell was I thinking?

  “Hello?” she said again and I knew she was about to hang up. And the thought of her ending the phone call put me into a near panic.

  “Hey,” I said quietly. I could hear her quick intake of breath and then utter quiet. The phone buzzed in the silence as I waited for her to say something. Anything.

  “Clay,” Maggie finally said. She didn’t say my name as a question but as a statement. And I noticed that her tone wasn’t a happy one. Not the reception I’d hoped to have, but not unexpected.

  “I just wanted to call and say…thank you. You know, for my gift. I loved it.” I couldn’t get my voice above the barest whisper. As if by speaking too loudly, it would shatter whatever this was.

  Again Maggie was quiet for a while and I wasn’t sure she was still there. But finally, after a few minutes she said, “No problem. Glad you liked it.” I wasn’t deaf to the bitterness in her words. I hated it. I loathed the fact that it was directed at me.