I shake my head. “I can’t believe this is the first time I’m hearing this.”
“It’s all water under the bridge. So many years ago now that sometimes I think we both forget it happened. But the moral of the story stands the test of time. Look at Cash. Look at Luc. Then look at your future. Which one do you see there, honey? Which one suits?”
“Cash has always been like the moon for me.” I can’t hide the anguish in my voice. “I’m caught in his gravitational pull, endlessly orbiting, unable to break free.”
“And Luc?” she prods.
“Luc is like…well, it’s like he has the ability to truly see me. More than that, he sees the world the same way I do. But does that mean we’re meant to be lovers or only friends?”
“I suppose there’s only one way to find out. You have to give him a chance. The same chance you’ve given Cash. That way, you’re comparing apples to apples and—”
Yard has treed a squirrel and starts barking his fool head off. Which sets off the other dogs in the neighborhood until it sounds like the hounds of hell have been let loose.
“Yard! Hush!” I yell at him. But he’s gone deaf in his excitement.
“Sorry, Auntie June.” I run and grab his collar, pulling him away from the tree and tempting him with the chew toy I keep tucked in my purse for such occasions. He takes the toy to a patch of early afternoon sunshine and lies down to gnaw on it.
I get back to the swing at the same time the egg timer goes off. Helping Auntie June stand, I start to follow her into the house. But she says, “Pulling the cakes from the oven and setting them to cool is a one-woman job. Why don’t you stay out here and sit with your thoughts a spell?”
“Are you sure?”
“As sure as the dawn, honey.” She pats my cheek.
I manage a weak smile, but the minute she disappears through the door, my smile dissolves into a frown. Flopping onto the porch swing, I grumble, “Why does love have to be so danged complicated?”
I pose the question to the universe. Although, in my experience, the universe is downright stingy when it comes to answers.
“That’s its nature.”
I choke at the sound of Vee’s voice and swing around to find her rounding the side of the veranda. “How long have you been back there?”
“Long enough.” Her footsteps crunch on the winter-dry grass, and then she climbs the steps, taking a seat beside me. For a long moment, she studies me. “I take it Luc finally got around to telling you how he really feels about you?” she asks, one eyebrow arched.
Insert the sound of a record scratching here.“You knew?”
She gives me a wide-eyedyou gotta be kidding melook. “Oh my God, Maggie.Everyoneknew. Lucien Dubois isn’t exactly Lady Gaga when it comes to his feelings for you. The man’s got zero poker face.”
I gulp, feeling like a lead weight has replaced my heart. “Somehow that makes what’s happening now feel so much worse. How could I not have known? Not have seen?”
“Maybe you didn’t want to,” she suggests.
I pick at the ragged edge of a hangnail, afraid she might be right.
After a while, she ventures, “You know, I’ll always be grateful to him for the change in you.”
“The change in me?” I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Surely you remember how you were after Mom and Dad died. So fragile. So…” She shakes her head. “Closed off. I was terrified for you. Terrifiedofyou, of touching you or talking to you. I worried that one wrong step, one wrong word would shatter you into a thousand pieces. And then Luc befriended you, and you started to smile again, to laugh again. All those cracks in your surface seemed to knit back together.”
I stare down at my hands, fisting them when I see I’ve made the hangnail raw. “I thought you stopped talking to me and touching me because you blamed me for Mom’s and Dad’s deaths.”
“No!” she cries, and my eyes jump to her face to catch her stricken expression. “Oh, Maggie, no. Never. Mom and Dad died because a hurricane blew through town and the levees broke. It’s as simple and as terrible as that. How could I ever blame you?”
Some mysterious alchemy changes my lead heart back into one of flesh and blood. It pounds mercilessly. “They were there because I sent them.” My voice breaks on the boulder-sized lump in my throat.
“Yeah.” She grabs my hand and I cling to her fingers. They’re thin but their grip is strong. I’m reminded of all the times we skipped hand in hand as girls. Of how safe I felt with my big sister by my side. “And they easily could’ve turned back once they found Eva and her granny were gone,” she says. “But they didn’t. Not because you sent them, but because they were wonderful people who couldn’t turn their backs on folks in trouble. I’ve always been proud of you for asking them to help. And I’ve always been proud of them for going.”
“But you’ve been so cool to Eva. I thought…” I swallow and shake my head. “I guess I don’t know what I thought. Maybe that you blamed her too.”
