The Line Read online

Page 11

 

  He smiled at me and took my hand. “I expect that I’ll get used to all of this spooky stuff your family’s into sooner or later,” he said, “but I’ve got to admit that I was feeling the need for a little bit of normal, and I started thinking about you. ”

  I felt myself flinch and pulled my hand out of his grasp. Normal wasn’t exactly a compliment in my family, and it unquestionably wasn’t a word I wanted to hear Jackson use to describe me.

  “I’m sorry,” he said tenderly. “I shouldn’t be bothering you. I just wanted to check on you. You close your eyes now, and get back to sleep,” he said, and despite myself, I did as he asked. I felt his lips brush my forehead, the way a parent might kiss a sick child. And then quickly, tentatively his lips touched mine. My eyes popped back open, but he was already gone.

  SIX

  I spent another full day in bed after being released from the hospital, but at least it was my own bed. When I awoke early the following morning, I felt normal again, and was itching to get out. I made a point of abandoning my cell phone on the night table before making my escape, hoping to evade Iris’s mothering. The years I’d spent sneaking out as a teenager served me well; I climbed out the window and down the trellis, and found myself free on a fine, if humid, morning.

  I started wandering around Savannah more or less on automatic pilot, without thinking about where I’d end up. I found myself near Chippewa Square, so I grabbed a coffee to go at Gallery and went into the park. The city had recently cut back the overgrown azaleas that many homeless had been using as makeshift shelters. I recognized the necessity of the work, but it still seemed like a shame. I kind of liked Chippewa in its derelict state; there was something familiar and even comforting about it.

  The benches were all occupied, either by tourists doing their best Forrest Gump impersonations for the camera or by the very homeless people that the city was hoping to shoo out of the square. I deposited myself on the ground in the shade of my favorite tree. I tried to avoid thinking of Ginny, and of the violence done to her, by eavesdropping on every conversation around me. I drank my coffee and let my eyes trace the outline of the steeple on the Presbyterian church.

  An angelic little girl ran past me, laughing as her father caught her and swung her up into the air. The distraction was bittersweet. Lord help me, how I envied that little girl’s relationship with her father, even now. If only my mama had revealed who our father was, maybe Maisie and I could have had days like that with him. Of course, I knew mama must have had a real good reason for not sharing, but I sure wish that she had.

  “I knew you’d be here,” Aunt Ellen called out from behind me. “When you were little, and you were nowhere to be found, I could always count on finding you here, sitting in the shadow of that old gentleman. ” For a second I thought she was saluting the statue of Oglethorpe, but I realized she was just shading her eyes. “That sun burns a whole lot hotter than it used to. ” She made as if to join me on the grass, but then seemed to think better of it. “My dear, I’m afraid that I’m beyond the age of rising gracefully from the ground under my own steam, but not yet at that age where my pride would allow me to accept your help. Come on, get up and walk a bit with me. ”

  I smiled at her. Her eyes were clear, her voice was steady, and she seemed to be far more present than she had been in months. Her face was fresh. Her fair hair had new lowlights. Her nails were flawlessly manicured, and a slight tremor in her hands told me that she hadn’t had her first cocktail of the day. Ginny’s death had brought on an impromptu family reunion, and our house was packed to the rafters, buzzing not only with the extended Taylor family but with MacGregors, Ryans, and Duvals, known to us Savannah Taylors collectively, and somewhat derogatorily, as “the cousins. ” I wondered if Ellen were trying to put on her best front for the larger family group, or if the house was simply too crowded for her to be able to raid the liquor cabinet surreptitiously.

  Despite the unforgiving light and a decade or more of heavy drinking, Aunt Ellen was still beautiful. More beautiful than any other of the Taylor women, except, of course, Maisie. I stood and brushed the grass, moss, and sandy earth from my jeans. She offered me her arm, and I took it. “You’ve missed the worst of the gathering, you know,” she began as we moved our way along the McDonough Street edge of the park. “The part where the cousins all tried to act like they gave a damn about Ginny’s…passing. ” She looked a bit guilty. “I shouldn’t be talking like this. ”

  “It’s okay. She hated me. I must admit, her death isn’t going to create any great void in my life,” I said. I didn’t really mean a word of it; I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to resolve my feelings toward Ginny and what had happened to her.

  “It’s terrible. I know I should care more, but Ginny wasn’t just mean to you. She didn’t have a kind word for anyone since something like 1984. She was old and bitter and angry to the end. ” Ellen stopped herself.

  “But how did she get to be that way?” I asked. “I know she had too much responsibility to have a family of her own, but I don’t think she really wanted one anyway. I don’t understand what made her so hard. ”

  “I’ve got a theory. Now it’s only a theory, mind you, but I think I may be right,” Ellen began. “Ginny was a handsome woman, but not what I’d call beautiful, and the men weren’t exactly lining up for her. She was intelligent too, but shrewdly intelligent. Not a great intellect. She certainly lacked your amazing imagination. There was nothing that called her out into the larger world, so being chosen as an anchor gave her a tremendous sense of purpose and validation. But instead of using it as an opportunity to expand her horizons, she shut herself off, and as her world shrank she began to see herself as larger and more important than she had any right to. She saw herself as the sun, and expected us to spend our lives orbiting around her. ” Ellen stopped talking as a tourist trolley pulled up alongside us. Something about its arrival put an end to her candor. “What a fine pair we are, speaking so poorly of the dead,” she concluded. Her forehead creased and she folded her arms around herself.

  “Will the police be able to release the body in time for the memorial?” I asked, trying to bring her back out of her private thoughts.

  “I don’t know, dear. Oliver is working on getting the body released, but I’m afraid it might be a few more days or even weeks before we’ll be able to lay Ginny to rest. ” She paused. “I have to apologize to you, Mercy. I couldn’t help you when you were hurt. ”

  “What happened wasn’t your fault, Aunt Ellen. ”

  “But it was, in a way,” she began to tear up. “I wasn’t reachable when Iris called me. After you found Ginny, that is. I’m sure you know why I wasn’t home, why none of you knew where I was. Hell, I didn’t even know where I was. If I hadn’t been passed out, I would have answered my phone. I am going to quit drinking. I know, I’ve tried before…But this time I’m going to do it. ” She looked squarely at me. “For real, this time, sugar. Do you hear me?”

  I desperately wanted to believe her. For her sake. I smiled and tried to pull her to me, but she pushed away.