The Silent Waters
Page 49
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“Sorry about that,” Sarah said. “These girls are literally going gaga over the fact that you are here. Which doesn’t make sense. I listened to your music during my break today and it’s awful.” She winked. She’d been the main nurse stopping by all day to check in on Mrs. Boone and to check in on me. She was an older woman, in her sixties, who had a tender softness to her voice that was healing all by itself—even when she insulted you. “So, I hate to be the wicked witch, but visiting hours are ending…”
“No worries, thank you. Do you think I could have one more minute?”
She nodded. “Sure, that’s fine.”
“Also, I have a question, and it might sound stupid.”
“Shoot it my way, son.”
“Can she, like, hear me?” I asked, stuffing my hands into my pockets. “I mean, if I were to speak to her, could she hear what I was saying?”
“Some say no, others say yes. Between you and me?” she said, stepping closer to me. “Sometimes we speak for ourselves, to get our feelings out into the world. It’s best to always say the words instead of holding them inside us, and if our loved ones can hear us, too…well, that’s all the better.”
I smiled and thanked her.
As Sarah turned to walk away, she paused. “Music, too. People say music helps. But I’m sure you already knew that.”
Truer words were never spoken.
When she left, I pulled a chair closer to Mrs. Boone’s bedside and took her hand into mine. “I have a selfish request, Mrs. Boone. So, I’m assuming this is the moment where you’d normally call me an idiot or something, but I gotta ask you to do this. Come back. You have to wake up, not for me, not for yourself, but for Maggie. She needs a break; she needs a win in life. She’s been through so much bullshit, so much. Therefore, I forbid you to do this. I forbid you to stay in this shape. I don’t know if you know this, but you’re her best friend. You’re the only thing she really has going for her, and I can’t have you check out on her, because I think she’d check out, too, and I selfishly can’t have that. I need you girls to get better. I need you girls to get healed. So do this for me. I’ll give you an IOU, okay? Just come back to us, Mrs. B. Just come back.”
I sniffled and pulled my chair even closer, remembering Sarah’s last words. I leaned in toward her ear and softly began to sing “Sittin’ On The Dock Of The Bay” by Otis Redding, the song that was hers with Stanley.
I silently prayed she could hear me.
I hadn’t a clue why I was so terrified to see Maggie. After an eighteen-hour flight, and twelve hours in a hospital, I had thought I’d be mentally prepared to stand near her, but the moment I walked up to her porch, my hands started shaking. I rang the doorbell and when Mrs. Riley answered, she frowned at me. We hadn’t spoken in years, since she’d forbidden me from her house, but this time she stepped aside and let me in.
“Thank you, Mrs. Riley,” I said.
She gave me a small smile in response then disappeared back into the house.
I walked up to Maggie’s room, where her door was wide open, but she was missing. I stepped inside when I saw the stack of books I sent to her—the ones she never sent back. I opened them each, flipping through, seeing her pink tabs in every single one. She replied to all of my notes, but I didn’t understand. Why hadn’t she sent them back?
As I turned around with a book in my hands, reading her handwriting, I paused, looking up from the book.
Maggie.
She looked beautiful.
So fucking beautiful.
A book was in her grip, and her arms wrapped around the book, which pushed against her chest. We stood still, staring at one another. My stomach knotted as I stepped back, placing the book in my hand back to her desk. “Sorry,” I murmured.
She blinked a few times and pulled on the ends of her wet hair, still staring. That was all I could say to her? Sorry? I hadn’t seen her in years. Years! I had flown across an ocean for her. I hadn’t stood that close to her in so long, and now, the first word out of my mouth was ‘sorry’.
“How are you?” I asked, causing her to tilt her head as she stared.
There were a few things I noticed about Maggie that were different than when I’d left. Her hair was shorter, but still, past her shoulders. She gave tiny smiles, but never showed her teeth. Her lips pressed together and the corners of her mouth curved up, but it was never a full grin. It was very petite, like her figure. Her blue eyes looked lonely, too. That was the hardest part for me, staring into her eyes. She hardly blinked, but when she did, it was quicker than most, as if she didn’t want to miss a second of sight.
“How are you?” I asked again. No kind of reply. “You okay today, Maggie May?” I whispered.
Her body tightened up and she shrugged.
She was still as beautiful as before, but now it was a haunting kind of beauty, the kind of beauty that made you want to laugh and cry all at once.
I stepped forward, wanting to place my hand on her arm, to remember what she felt like, but when I moved, she edged away.
“Sorry,” I murmured. “I’ll let you be.”
She frowned. I’d forgotten that a frown could be more stunning than a smile. I stepped past her, and our arms brushed against one another, and I felt her shake. Or maybe I shook. It was hard to tell the difference between the two of us. Right as I was about to leave, I paused.
“I miss you,” I blurted out, a little hurt, a little honest, a little confused. “I miss you and I don’t know why, because you made it clear that you wanted me to go to Los Angeles all those years ago. I miss you, because you stopped sending me the books. I miss you, and I don’t know why, because you’re right here. You’re standing steps away from me, yet I feel as if there is some kind of giant wall standing between us. How can I miss you when you’re so damn close to me?”
She kept her back to me as I watched her bend down and place the book on the floor in front of her. As she rose slowly, she turned toward me, and then leaped into my arms.
She literally leaped. She flew to me, and I caught her, wrapping my arms so tight around her.
God.
That felt good.
It felt so good to have her in my arms. To hold her close to me. To smell her hair, which always smelled like honey and flowers. To feel her lips graze against my shoulder. To hold her.
“No worries, thank you. Do you think I could have one more minute?”
She nodded. “Sure, that’s fine.”
“Also, I have a question, and it might sound stupid.”
“Shoot it my way, son.”
“Can she, like, hear me?” I asked, stuffing my hands into my pockets. “I mean, if I were to speak to her, could she hear what I was saying?”
“Some say no, others say yes. Between you and me?” she said, stepping closer to me. “Sometimes we speak for ourselves, to get our feelings out into the world. It’s best to always say the words instead of holding them inside us, and if our loved ones can hear us, too…well, that’s all the better.”
I smiled and thanked her.
As Sarah turned to walk away, she paused. “Music, too. People say music helps. But I’m sure you already knew that.”
Truer words were never spoken.
When she left, I pulled a chair closer to Mrs. Boone’s bedside and took her hand into mine. “I have a selfish request, Mrs. Boone. So, I’m assuming this is the moment where you’d normally call me an idiot or something, but I gotta ask you to do this. Come back. You have to wake up, not for me, not for yourself, but for Maggie. She needs a break; she needs a win in life. She’s been through so much bullshit, so much. Therefore, I forbid you to do this. I forbid you to stay in this shape. I don’t know if you know this, but you’re her best friend. You’re the only thing she really has going for her, and I can’t have you check out on her, because I think she’d check out, too, and I selfishly can’t have that. I need you girls to get better. I need you girls to get healed. So do this for me. I’ll give you an IOU, okay? Just come back to us, Mrs. B. Just come back.”
I sniffled and pulled my chair even closer, remembering Sarah’s last words. I leaned in toward her ear and softly began to sing “Sittin’ On The Dock Of The Bay” by Otis Redding, the song that was hers with Stanley.
I silently prayed she could hear me.
I hadn’t a clue why I was so terrified to see Maggie. After an eighteen-hour flight, and twelve hours in a hospital, I had thought I’d be mentally prepared to stand near her, but the moment I walked up to her porch, my hands started shaking. I rang the doorbell and when Mrs. Riley answered, she frowned at me. We hadn’t spoken in years, since she’d forbidden me from her house, but this time she stepped aside and let me in.
“Thank you, Mrs. Riley,” I said.
She gave me a small smile in response then disappeared back into the house.
I walked up to Maggie’s room, where her door was wide open, but she was missing. I stepped inside when I saw the stack of books I sent to her—the ones she never sent back. I opened them each, flipping through, seeing her pink tabs in every single one. She replied to all of my notes, but I didn’t understand. Why hadn’t she sent them back?
As I turned around with a book in my hands, reading her handwriting, I paused, looking up from the book.
Maggie.
She looked beautiful.
So fucking beautiful.
A book was in her grip, and her arms wrapped around the book, which pushed against her chest. We stood still, staring at one another. My stomach knotted as I stepped back, placing the book in my hand back to her desk. “Sorry,” I murmured.
She blinked a few times and pulled on the ends of her wet hair, still staring. That was all I could say to her? Sorry? I hadn’t seen her in years. Years! I had flown across an ocean for her. I hadn’t stood that close to her in so long, and now, the first word out of my mouth was ‘sorry’.
“How are you?” I asked, causing her to tilt her head as she stared.
There were a few things I noticed about Maggie that were different than when I’d left. Her hair was shorter, but still, past her shoulders. She gave tiny smiles, but never showed her teeth. Her lips pressed together and the corners of her mouth curved up, but it was never a full grin. It was very petite, like her figure. Her blue eyes looked lonely, too. That was the hardest part for me, staring into her eyes. She hardly blinked, but when she did, it was quicker than most, as if she didn’t want to miss a second of sight.
“How are you?” I asked again. No kind of reply. “You okay today, Maggie May?” I whispered.
Her body tightened up and she shrugged.
She was still as beautiful as before, but now it was a haunting kind of beauty, the kind of beauty that made you want to laugh and cry all at once.
I stepped forward, wanting to place my hand on her arm, to remember what she felt like, but when I moved, she edged away.
“Sorry,” I murmured. “I’ll let you be.”
She frowned. I’d forgotten that a frown could be more stunning than a smile. I stepped past her, and our arms brushed against one another, and I felt her shake. Or maybe I shook. It was hard to tell the difference between the two of us. Right as I was about to leave, I paused.
“I miss you,” I blurted out, a little hurt, a little honest, a little confused. “I miss you and I don’t know why, because you made it clear that you wanted me to go to Los Angeles all those years ago. I miss you, because you stopped sending me the books. I miss you, and I don’t know why, because you’re right here. You’re standing steps away from me, yet I feel as if there is some kind of giant wall standing between us. How can I miss you when you’re so damn close to me?”
She kept her back to me as I watched her bend down and place the book on the floor in front of her. As she rose slowly, she turned toward me, and then leaped into my arms.
She literally leaped. She flew to me, and I caught her, wrapping my arms so tight around her.
God.
That felt good.
It felt so good to have her in my arms. To hold her close to me. To smell her hair, which always smelled like honey and flowers. To feel her lips graze against my shoulder. To hold her.
