The Silent Waters (33 page)

“Indoor or outdoor wedding?” Mama asked Calvin and Stacey the next morning. The dining room table was completely covered with wedding magazines and planners. Mama hadn’t stopped rushing around ever since she’d found out Calvin was going to propose to Stacey, and once he had called saying Stacey accepted, she’d gone into roadrunner mode. “Oh, have you thought about a destination wedding? Paris. Oh! Bora Bora! What about an autumn wedding? Maybe spring? Spring weddings are always so beautiful, and I just love the peachy blush colors. Have you two picked out colors yet?”

Stacey laughed, leaning against the countertop and flipping through a magazine. She was so effortlessly beautiful, with her caramel skin and curly honey chestnut hair. She always looked so put together with her perfect smile and stunning brown eyes that almost smiled more than her lips. I stood in the kitchen next to the refrigerator, a few steps back from the commotion, drinking my glass of orange juice. They hadn’t turned around to see that I was only a few feet away from the dining room. They were too busy breathing heavily, eating powdered donuts, and staring at Stacey’s ring finger.

I stood up straighter and sipped on my orange juice. Daddy walked into the kitchen with a book in his hand and smiled my way. He came over to me and handed me my next read:
Looking for Alaska
by John Green.

“A girl was reading it in class yesterday,” he said quietly before picking up a powdered donut hole and popping it in his mouth. “It must be good, seeing as how she ignored my entire lecture.”

I smiled and ran my fingers over the cover of the book. I turned and grinned.
Thanks, Dad.

“You’re welcome, Sport.” He leaned back against the refrigerator and stared across the way at Mama and the newly engaged couple. “Wedding planning?”

I nodded.

“I was really hoping they’d elope. We’re going to have a mother-of-the-groom-zilla for the next few months.”

We stood back, watching said mother-of-the-groom-zilla ask more and more questions. Truth be told, it was the most excited Mama had been in a long time. Stacey remained her calm, sweet self as she tried her best to reply. “We haven’t really had much time to decide anything, Katie, but it’s all so exciting, isn’t it?”

Mama clapped and did a jig. “It is! I’ve been waiting for this day forever, and I mean, this is my only true chance to have a wedding for one of my kids.”

“Mom, come on,” Calvin whispered as my gut tightened. “Don’t say that.”

“I’m just saying, it’s not like your sisters are ever going to get married. Cheryl is on this feminist kick, and Maggie… All I’m saying is I’m never going to get to plan a wedding for those two.” Mama turned to Stacey, took her hand in hers, and squeezed it. “But at least I have a soon-to-be daughter to do all of this with. I feel as if I’m finally getting the daughter I was promised. Lord knows I already missed out on some major moments with Cheryl, and now she’s this wild child shooting around the world, so I doubt marriage will ever be on her mind. And do you know what the people in town call Maggie? ‘A horror story. A mother’s worst nightmare. She’s a reclusive eccentric.’ It’s hard not to believe them. She’s sick, and she’s not getting better. She’s probably better off never leaving home. It’s safer for her here.”

Ouch.

“Katie,” Daddy hissed from the kitchen. All of their heads shot up to see Daddy and me standing only a few feet away. They all frowned in unison when their stares met mine.

A shade of red washed over Mama’s cheeks and she grew flustered. “Maggie May, you know you’re supposed to knock when you’re in a room to announce that you’re here. Otherwise it’s eavesdropping, and that’s not nice.”

Nice? My mother knew all about being nice that afternoon.

I knocked on the countertop four times.

I’m here. I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.

They kept staring and frowning. I kept standing, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

So I shifted my feet and left for my bedroom.

There was a robin dancing across my bedroom windowsill, reminding me of the freedom I’d been missing. I sat reading my to-do list over and over again, until I felt as if I knew it backward. I closed my book and placed it on the windowsill, Mama’s words playing over and over in my head.

I should leave. I’m going to leave.

I should’ve packed up a bag with a few of my things years before, and I should’ve left my house a long time ago. I should’ve gone on adventures, and found love, and gotten married in a big church where a choir sang hymns, and the priest made bad jokes. I should’ve been famous like my brother, or at least something more than what I was currently—nothing.

Standing from my chair, I left my room and grabbed a suitcase from the storage room. I dragged it into my bedroom, sat on the floor, and started to pack my clothes. On top of the clothes, I packed my favorite novels. On top of my novels, I packed more of my favorite novels. On top of my favorite novels, I placed my to-do list.

I’m going to leave.

I’m going to live.

My heart started racing, and I tried to allow my mind to stay clear.
Don’t overthink it, just pack and go. The first step out will be the hardest, but the most rewarding. Mrs. Boone was right. I have to live now, or I never will. I have to live so Mama will be proud of me again. I have to live because of Brooks.

When the first teardrops hit the covers of
The Hunger Games
, I did my best to stop the waterworks. My mind was trying its best to convince me to stay, telling me of the horrors outside those walls, reminding me of the silence I’d been cursed with all those years ago.

Shh…

Shh…

I shook my head and kept packing.

Be better, be stronger, Maggie May.

When my door creaked open, I jumped, startled until I saw Daddy standing there. His eyes fell to the suitcase and he grimaced before walking over to my window that faced the street.

“Come here, Maggie,” he said.

I stood up and walked over to him. He allowed a few moments of silence to pass before speaking once more.

“Emily Dickinson didn’t like meeting new people, you know.” Of course he knew about Emily Dickinson’s life. “She only left her father’s home a few times, and after some time, she never left at all. She was always dressed in white, and she never spoke many words.”

I stared outside, seeing kids playing catch, riding bikes, living more life than I’d lived in all my years. I wiped away another tear so he wouldn’t see it.

He saw it and smiled. He always saw my tears and smiled—but it was a sad smile, a broken grin. “Just because she was different didn’t make her a freak. People called her a reclusive eccentric, too, you know. People called Einstein a mentally disabled fool.”

I smiled, but somehow he still saw the sadness living within me.

“Maggie May, you’re good enough just the way you are.”

What a typical thing for my father to say.

“I can tell you care. You care what others think of you, what your mother thinks of you, what I think of you. Which frankly, is a waste of time. Your mother and I may be older, but that doesn’t make us wiser in any way, shape, or form. We’re still evolving, too. It doesn’t matter what names others call you—reclusive, eccentric—none of those words matter. What matters are the names you call yourself when you are in your own company.”

He smiled at me once again. “If one day you choose to step outside and explore those things, then by all means, do it, but do not do it to make your mother happy, or me happy, because in turn I think you’ll lose your own happiness. Leave when you’re ready, not when you feel pressured. Okay?”

I nodded.

Okay, Dad.

He kissed my forehead. “The world keeps spinning because your heartbeats exist.” He turned to leave my room, but before he left, he cleared his throat, scratching at his hairy chin. “Oh, and you have a surprise in the dining room.”

I walked downstairs to the dining room and sitting at the table was an old woman, with two turkey sandwiches and two cups of tea. “So,” she said, holding one tea cup in her hand. “It turns out my memory isn’t the best that it could be.” She stood up from the table and walked over to me with a walker, limping a little. There were a few small bruises on her cheeks. But still, she looked her beautiful, overdressed self. With a tiny smile to her lips, she nudged me in the shoulder. “But it could always be worse,” she said playfully. “I could’ve been mute.”

Snickering, I nudged her back.

I had never hugged someone so tight in my life.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” Brooks said, stepping into the dining room to see Mrs. Boone and me embracing.

“No, no. Any boy who’d sing to an old lady in the hospital is allowed to interrupt.”

Brooks gave her his crooked smile. “You heard me?”

“My goodness, the whole hospital heard you. After you left each night, the nurses went crazy over your voice and your facial hair, which I couldn’t understand for the life of me. Your voice was decent, but you look like a hairy monster. Shaving is okay, you know. I’ll buy you a razorblade if you’d like.”

I walked over to Brooks and rubbed his hairy chin. I liked it, his new look. His arms were toned and muscular, as if he’d been working out for years. He looked so grown up, so manly.

Mrs. Boone groaned. “Well, of course you like it, but your opinion is bias therefore it doesn’t matter. Anyway, here, Brooks.” She dug into her purse and pulled out a set of keys.

“What are these for?” he asked.

“It’s a thank you, for watching over me. Calvin told me you boys are here through the weekend, and he was saying how overly stressed you have been, so I figured you guys could go up to my cabin for a guys’ weekend, do whatever the heck it is that you young folk do nowadays.”

“Wow, that’s awesome. Thank you, Mrs. Boone.”

There was a knock at the front door and Daddy went to open it, revealing a woman with a kind smile. When Mrs. Boone saw her, she rolled her eyes. “Ugh, not you again.”

“Hi, I’m Katelynn,” the woman said. “I’m Mrs. Boone’s new caregiver. It’s just kind of hard to keep up with her. She’s a mover and a shaker.”

“The only thing I’ve been trying to shake is you, stalker,” Mrs. Boone murmured.

I snickered.
Good luck to you, Katelynn.
She had her hands full with that old lady.

The two of them shuffled back over to Mrs. Boone’s house, and Brooks jingled the keys in his hands. “We don’t have to go up this weekend. I haven’t had nearly enough time with you, and I want to take in every moment.”

I shook my head. We had plenty of moments coming our way. The band deserved to get away from it all, to have some dude time. After some convincing, Brooks agreed to go up north. He promised to be back by Sunday afternoon to spend his last day with me.

Then he promised me more and more days in the future.