Possibility.
That’s the exact word Ray used when we sat on this bench thirty years ago, and pledged eternity to one another.
“Look out there, Simone. There’s so much possibility beyond Treater’s Way.”
He folded me in his arms. My most favorite place to escape. His broad shoulders and tall frame shielded me from the world. Hid me from pain. The slight tug at my scalp as he twirled a strand of my curls in one finger. The silk of his hair kissing my cheek.
“We can go anywhere we want, as long as we’re together.”
Even at eighteen, I’d heard the fear in his voice. I’d understood he was trying to convince himself, shrouded himself in the naivete of youth. But I’d suppressed the panic that quickened my pulse, attributing it to the line of kisses he planted at my temple.
Our affair began late senior year, when his parents forced him to see Agatha. I was helping in the office a few times a week, already eighteen and clinging to the last piece of my mother’s legacy.
By graduation, we were madly in love. Our passionate, but secret, affair manifested in stolen kisses under North Bridge and secret trysts at Bridge House. At the time, no one lived there but Ruth. We existed in a world of our creation, foolishly believing the bubble wouldn’t burst.
“There’s no one but us, Simone. We’re all the family we need.”
The water rippled, drawing me away from that night. The fattest, longest alligator I’d ever seen slowed its ascent on shore. I was strangely unafraid and recognized him in an instant.
“Hey, Norbert,” I said to the gator. “Long time no see.”
“So good to see you’re home, Simone.” He winked his singular eye at me. Did all the magical creatures in this town have one of something that should be a pair? “Finally figured out how to break your own ward, huh?”
“I, uh, have I?” I stuttered over my words, a rush of terror cooling my veins. What ward? And how had I broken it?
Norbert stared at me for a long moment. I stared right back.
“Keep going,” he said. “You’re almost there.” He flicked his tail, angled his body, and slid into the water with a speed I wouldn’t have thought capable of such a large alligator.
Keep going. Back into the memories unfolding on the island. A night I thought I’d never forget with Ray. When he slept the next morning, I’d crept out to go for a run.
I was on a perfectly good island. I could have run the length of it and been happy.
But deep down, I knew I was already letting go. Maybe I hadn’t believed, even then, Ray’s promise. Or maybe it was because I’d already made a promise of my own.
I’d been accepted to Tulane. Agatha and I had our plan. I was going to college and would complete my clinicals in New Orleans. Get the experience of a mundane, then return and take over at the Magnolia.
Helping Ray and processing my mother’s death helped me find my calling. He wanted freedom from responsibility. He wanted to take to the open road, or the open bayou, and see what the world brought him.
I had a different path.
So instead of running on the island, I’d crossed South Bridge and headed to the track where I knew my friend Ethan would be about to start his morning workout. He’d brought muffins, as if he knew I would be there.
One hour. One hour with a good friend who let me feel safe and strong and required nothing of me. One hour with someone else who had goals and ambition, and who wasn’t afraid to express them.
We’d just finished our run. I was teasing himfor losing again.
“Lauren and Ray showed up.” No one was around me, Norbert long gone, but I said it out loud just to break the silent pain of the memory.
Lauren, with her arms crossed and a smirk I wanted to punch off her face, watched us break up. Ray screamed at me, claiming I was a liar and a cheat. He’d charged at Ethan, who wrestled him to the ground but wouldn’t fight him.
Ray crossed North Bridge that day.
And my heart shattered, squashing down a relief I didn’t want to feel. I’d cried for hours right here on this same park bench. In a fit of teen angst, I’d uttered words of pain aloud.
I’m done feeling things so deeply they can rip me up inside. I don’t need family, and I don’t deserve a good one.
My throat was so constricted I could scarcely breathe. My stomach sour and raw. My voice a siren’s song to my soul. I’d dealt myself a devastating blow, not yet understanding the power of my decisions, or how much my voice truly mattered.
