“You don’t have to say his name for me, baby girl.” She turns her head toward mine, bringing us face to face. “I already know how brave you are.”
“I have so many questions burnin’ big holes inside me, gettin’ larger the longer I hold ‘em in. I’m worried they’re gonna burn me alive before I get answers,” I whimper, pulling a hand back to dry my face and wipe away the start of fresh tears. I’m so fucking sick of crying.
Roux drapes her arms around my waist, her eyes pools of acceptance. “What questions? I can’t promise I can answer any, but I can sure try.”
“The largest ones are abouthim, but there’s more too.” My voice quakes, becoming hesitant. “I found a box out in the shed.” I don’t know how much Roux knows about our families, and I don’t think I can take being the one to break it to her. She’s never brought up our time in Devil’s Nest, the complete opposite of Cyrus. I say the next words like a question, testing the waters to see how deep I can go before drowning us both. “It was full of things from Devil’s Nest.”
Roux tilts her head. I can almost hear her mind whirring as she considers what to say next. Her bottom lip folds between her teeth. She breathes out slowly, making a whistling noise. “Things about our families?”
I nod, trying to inject meaning into the gesture and hoping she’ll understand. “I saw a picture of Cyrus and Mattie in there.”
“I wish I had gotten to know her.” Roux’s voice wavers, and I worry I’ve said too much. “And my aunt,” she says after a long pause. “I don’t think Ma has ever forgiven herself for not intervening sooner, for not going back for Mattie.”
I lean into Roux, letting her warm scent of crisp apples and spice engulf me. She always smells like fall. “Our families are so fucked up,” I chuckle.
A laugh bursts from her throat, and she hugs me tightly as we erupt into another fit of melancholy-fueled humor. “You’re tellin’ me. At least you’re not related to the rest of ‘em,” she chuckles once she catches her breath.
As our laughter subsides, I grow bold enough to ask the question I’ve had on the tip of my tongue since we started this conversation. “How much do you remember about our childhood?”
“Enough,” she says darkly. The drastic change in her tone tells me she probably knows more than I did growing up. “I was so young, though. Most of it I learned after we moved, and I realized Dad wasn’t coming too.”
“And Cyrus? I remember y’all being close when we were kids.” I playfully push against her. “You used to get so upset when I came around.”
“I was a little possessive.” A devilish grin flashes across her face before she frowns. Her head rolls back as she stares blankly up at the ceiling. The naturally cheerful tone of her voice fades, and my heart twinges. “We’re all cousins, Mattie, Cyrus, and I, but I saw far more of him than I did of her. His daddy and mine hung around each other a lot, but Mama never forgave him for what happened to her sister.”
“Lottie? Cyrus’ mama?”
Roux nods her head. “I never met her. I was just a baby when she died, but my mama still swears up and down Elias killed her. Papaw was still Sheriff then and ruled it an accident. After we moved, I hardly saw Cyrus at all. We still stayed in touch as much as we could, though, until...” She chokes on her words. I reach for her hand, squeezing it with all the comfort I can muster.
“My mama doesn’t like Elias either,” I reply before asking the more difficult question. “You really think Cyrus is gone then?”
“I’m so sorry, Jace.” Roux closes her eyes and sighs. “I shoulda said somethin’, I know. Mama brought it up again not long ago, after we shared a couple of glasses of wine. She thinks Elias killed him too, but she doesn’t have any proof. Says she just knows it, deep down.”
Her confession slams into me, striking me in the heart. A cry slips from my throat.
“She’s probably right, but I can’t explain it either. I shoulda said so the first time you asked. I’m sorry, Jace, I really am.” There’s no hint of dishonesty in her apology.
“You remember those clove cigarettes he used to smoke?” I ask, bracing myself for what I’m about to tell her and hoping I don’t sound out of my mind. “I keep smelling ‘em, right here in my room.”
“I always hated that he smoked,” she groans, crinkling her nose. She waves a hand in front of her, fanning invisible smoke.
“I’d probably smoke too if Elias was my dad,” I joke, even though my pop’s not much better. Neither one seems to have the capacity for any kind of positive emotion.
Her face relaxes, and she laughs, swatting playfully at me. “Yeah, I guess we’re all in the Shitty Dad Club.”
“I really was excited when y’all finally got together—always knew Cyrus was your type. Tall, dark, broody.” Roux winks. “A little bit of an asshole.”
“Roux!” I shout, throwing one hand dramatically over my chest. My eyes dart to a pillow within arm’s reach, but Roux’s eyes follow mine. We both fumble, jumping to be the first to grab it. We’re both in our twenties, but at this moment, as we fall to the floor tugging on either end of the pillow, it feels like we’re kids again. The cloud of sadness normally surrounding me lifts just enough for me to let loose and enjoy this time with her.
A knock at the door startles us, and we sit up frantically as I call, “Come in!”
Both our mamas appear in the open doorway, smiling like cats who’ve caught a canary. “It’s gettin’ late,” Magnolia says, looking from me to Roux. “You girls all caught up?”
“I was thinkin’,” my mama interjects, “it’s been so long since Jace has had a friend, maybe you and Roux can spend the night. I can set up the guest room. It’s really no trouble at all.”
My cheeks burn with embarrassment. I hide my face behind my hands, shaking my head. Roux only giggles before replying, “I’d love to! As long as it’s alright with Mama.”
Magnolia smiles, trying to keep herself from laughing as I squirm uncomfortably from the visible excitement on my mama’s face. “Of course!” she agrees, before adding, “As long as Kate brings out the good wine.”
