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“And then, after you left Myrtle Beach and it was just me and Creed, he started to get more and more angry and anxious about money and never having enough of it. People would show up shoving packages in his hands and a list of names and addresses. It was clear he was a drug runner, but I ignored it hoping the money would help his disposition.”
“But it didn’t?” Birdie asked, laying her fork on the side of her plate.
“No, then he started hitting me. It was only once or twice and he’d always apologize, but then it was every day. It didn’t help he was dipping into his inventory and stoned half the time.” She became quiet and finally added, “It reminded me of the way Mom used to treat you. Never really having anything of substance to justify her hurting you, but latching on to anything I’d say that would give her the green light. After experiencing the same with Creed, and being on the other side of the fist, I began to believe I deserved it. That it was some kind of karma or payback for my sins.”
Maisie rarely opened up like this, but Birdie sensed that rather than the conversation being a productive one, it served only to make her sad and despondent. There would come a day when they would share everything. But today, there was a baby inside of her sister, sensitive to her feelings. Experiencing it all with her.
“Tell you what, why don’t we take Bernadette’s advice and forget about the past and focus on the future? There’s going to be a baby in the house very soon. We should be looking forward to that screaming little bundle of joy rather than ruminating over the past. Whattya say?”
Maisie gave her a small smile. “But I’m still going to look for a job. Eventually. There’s a daycare around the corner. I’ve already got her on the waiting list.”
Birdie sat back in her chair with a smile. “That’s the first time you’ve called the baby a ‘her.’ Know something I don’t know?”
Maisie shrugged her shoulder, her smile slowly widening. “A mother’s intuition.”
* * *
Lucas rubbedBirdie’s back as she took a moment to get her breath. It was as if she were watching a movie and narrating each scene. If he didn’t know better, he’d wonder how much was fact and fiction.
The idea of a regretful Maisie was hard for him to swallow, and he hadn’t even read the diary.
Erma took advantage of the momentary silence. “I’m glad to hear your sister got right with you and her Lord and Savior, God rest her soul. That said, there are still people who owe you an apology.”
“Us included,” Cora Leigh added.
Erma nodded. “Especially my daughter, Mary-Lou.”
Birdie stared at the notebook in her hands, the edges worn and the pages yellowed with age. “You know, I don’t think I care to read this.” She looked up at the women and then Lucas. “I’d rather remember the sister I had in Charlotte than the vindictive stranger in Wayward.”
“I have to ask, Birdie.” Lucas held her hand and squeezed it. “How did Maisie die?”
She bowed her head and shook it twice, her eyes pooling. “It was Creed. Maisie was on her way home from work and had picked Mia up from daycare. Mia was only a year old. He was waiting for Maisie on the staircase to the apartment, neither of them knew that I was inside. I had asked for the day off because I wanted to surprise her by making dinner. I wasn’t much of a cook, but true to her word, she got a job. She had been working a lot of hours and getting up nearly every night with Mia. Never complaining. Always happy to hold her and calm her down. Some nights, I’d try to get to Mia before Maisie, you know, to help out, but Maisie always managed to get to her before me. Always with a smile on her face and cooing at her as if she couldn’t be happier to be woken up by a bawling baby. She was such a good mother. We had often laughed at how ironic it was that daughters of Shelby Wellborn could have such motherly instincts.”
Birdie exhaled and pulled in a long drag of air. “I heard her put the key in the lock, and open it partway, but something or someone outside stopped her. I walked over, thinking her hands were full and needed help, but I saw through the slats in the blinds Creed had pulled a gun on them. I heard him tell her that she owed him money. Something about leaving Myrtle Beach with all their savings. Which was a lie. When I picked her up at the 7-Eleven, she didn’t even have her purse.”
Birdie continued, “I panicked, and ran to the kitchen to grab the knife I had just used to dice onions. I stood by the door and I heard him say, “Fine, if you don’t have the money, I’ll take the baby. I’m sure the mayor of some Bumfuck, Georgia town would be willing to pay big bucks to get his baby girl back.”
Birdie rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know what Maisie did. Whether she tried to open the door, or distract him, but that’s when I heard the gunshot. For a moment, I couldn’t move. Couldn’t believe he’d actually shot her.” She turned to Lucas with tears slipping over her cheeks, as if reliving the moment. “While she was holding Mia.”
She swiped at the tears. “Through the door, I could see him bending over her bleeding body, trying to pull Mia away from her, but Maisie wasn’t letting go… She had been shot in the stomach, but wouldn’t let go of Mia. That’s when I pushed the door open, raised the knife in the air and stabbed him in the back, scooping up Mia as he dropped her in my arms. Maisie was still alive, but barely, as there was blood everywhere. Pooling all around her.
“I managed to roll Creed to the side. He was dead. The autopsy report said that the knife entered the heart and he died instantly.
“Maisie, however, didn’t. As we waited for the ambulance, she made me promise. Promise to raise Mia as my own and to never let Lucas know he was the father because he’d have every parental right to take her from me. Maisie held on as long as she could, both of us covered with so much blood, you couldn’t be sure who was the victim. Then she made me swear I would never tell Mia she was her mother. I tried to argue with her, but she was insistent. And dying. So I did. I promised to raise her as my own and to not tell a soul who the father was and who her real mother was.”
She looked up as if realizing she was in the hotel room and not on the balcony outside of her apartment. “By the time the ambulance arrived, she was gone.”
“Sure you don’t want that drink?” Pinkie asked with soft eyes.
“No, thank you,” she said, as if eager to get through it.
“The police came. A neighbor had seen everything through her apartment window blinds and corroborated my story. Creed had a laundry list of priors so I was only called in for questioning and allowed to go. He was a useless piece of shit, but he was also a repeat offender, selling drugs and robbing people.”
She sighed, and Lucas could almost see the burden of yet another boulder on her shoulders begin to crack and come apart piece by piece.
“When Marshall asked me to marry him, I told him what had happened. About leaving Wayward with Maisie and why, and that I had killed a man, but that it was in self-defense. I know I promised Maisie I wouldn’t tell anyone. But I had to. I had to tell him everything. I just couldn’t marry him without him knowing. He married me anyway. Told me weeks later that my name was no longer tied to the…altercation…and that I could live my life without the stigma of killing a man. Even if it was in self-defense. It was my wedding present, and I couldn’t have asked for anything more because it protected Mia, as well.”
To Lucas’s surprise, Cora Leigh said in her timid voice, “There’s no shame or sin in killing a man in self-defense.”
