Page 43 of Second Chance

20

Bees Sting. So Do Women.

[Denton]

While I help myself to an apple muffin followed by a full glass of sweet tea, I can’t wait to return to the yard. My skin buzzes knowing Mati’s in the house and another part of me aches with need. Her words from the other night tamper my desire.

Why do I feel so guilty?

I can’t help her with her emotions. Guilt is something I’ve been unfamiliar with until recently. Guilt at being gone so long. Guilt at letting friendships fall apart. Guilt at this house slipping into disrepair.

Mentally, I’ve begun making a list of all the things this place needs.

“See Mati?” Dolores asks, but I finish gulping my sweet tea before answering.

“Yeah, why?”

“You got that glazed over look in your eyes.”

“I do not,” I whine, sounding like a teen.

“When will you admit you love that girl?” Dolores asks, surprising me with her boldness.

“When will I what? What are you talking about?” I stuff another bite of muffin into my mouth.

“Twenty-seven years later and you still have a look of longing when it comes to her.” Dolores shakes her head. “Here’s my unsolicited advice as your older sister. Don’t let more time pass. In a moment, time is slow. In a year, time went too fast.”

What the fuck?

Sometimes I think Dolores is sneaking my mother’s meds. She looks wired. Her blue eyes too bright. Her skin too pale. She’s working too hard.

More guilt knocks at my chest. I haven’t responded to her declaration, so she steps to the side, pats me on the shoulder as she passes, and says, “I’m going to check on Mother.”

I slip out the kitchen door for the yard, but round the house to hear Magnolia speaking with Mati and Cora on the screened in porch.

“Did you see my grandson? He’s a rockstar, you know.”

“We know, Miss Magnolia,” Cora replies politely, something all-knowing in her voice. I can’t believe Mati and Cora are friends, but then again, people change, I suppose. I know I have.

Cora owns the Conrad Lodge where I’m staying but I haven’t seen her there yet. The place seems pretty busy with the fall colors transitioning on the mountain trees. Tourism is a new draw to the area and a bonus for the community. The display will be beautiful and reminds me I need to start keeping my camera with me.

“He ran away from here,” Magnolia adds, and I stiffen beside the corner of the house. “Just like his daddy. Looks just like him.” My whole body goes board still. I hate the reference to him, and the comparison. Magnolia has said it many times passing me, as if she’s shocked how much I look like my father. I’ve blocked him out so often I don’t remember him as more than fists or fights. Still, I don’t know what she means about running away, as my father never left Blue Ridge. Once he settled here, his roots were planted deep.

“I think he’s rather handsome,” Cora adds, fueling the conversation. Mati doesn’t respond, and I find I’m holding my breath wondering what she thinks of me. I’m a little vain like that. Does she also see him when she looks at me? My heart weighs heavy in my chest with the thought.

“I don’t think he looks anything like his father,” Mati defends, and although I didn’t kiss her by the stairwell, I want to kiss her now. “He’s nothing like him.”

Her voice rises, her defense strong, and I’m reminded once again of all the nights Mati saved me.

“Oh, no,” Magnolia mocks. “Nothing like him. Shame about his daddy.”

I’m worrying she’s been sneaking Mother’s meds, too. Either that, or she’s going senile which is a possibility, although most days she seems rather lucid. She’s eighty-something years old.

“Yes, Denton missed his father’s funeral, if I recall,” Cora speaks, reminding me of another shortcoming of mine. Dolores swears I should have attended. The funeral would have given you closure. In many ways, I think that’s why I’m presently here.

“Yes, he did,” Magnolia replies, sadness lacing her voice and I’m all kinds of confused. Magnolia hated my father, but she sounds like she’s sympathetic to his passing. “Darn shame what happened to him.”

I can’t listen any longer. I have work to do. Cleaning the yard isn’t going to make this place more presentable, but it’s a start. It’s also a good place to let my mind wander while my body works out pent-up frustration. I’m all mixed up about Mati.