“Do I mind?” For a moment I confuse the thoughts running through my head with reality and I think she’s asking me if I mind that she’s using my bathtub and my bedroom.
But then I get it.
She wants me to get the fuck out.
Nathan is out in the hallway trying to run interference, but I can hear Adam’s curt dismissal on the other side of the bedroom door. So yeah, I actually do mind. But this is not the time or the place because Magnolia is tired. I can see it in her eyes. She wants her bath, and her bubbles, and her bed.
So fine.
“I’ll leave,” I say. “But we’re gonna talk about it later after you rest. Deal?” I add that ‘deal’ part to make her think she’s got a choice, even though she doesn’t.
I know the tricks. I was waaaaay better at being a bratty little girl than she could ever dream of.
But Magnolia Accorsi is not nearly as stupid as I was at her age, so she sees right through me. However, she handles confrontation a lot better than I could ever hope to, so she forces a smile. “OK. Deal.”
I leave, closing the door behind me, and find Nathan talking to Nick and Wendy at the end of the hallway. Nathan motions for me to join them, which I do, and then we all go down the front steps in silence. Nathan heads straight outside and I follow him, but Wendy and Nick hang back in the foyer.
“I’ll bring you breakfast,” Nick is saying. Wendy looks like she wants to stay with him, but he’s urging her to join Nathan and me. She gives in, which surprises me. Because the Wendy I know is always in charge.
Though it has been a minute or two since we’ve been together for any length of time. So maybe this is the real her? Maybe she has always deferred to Nick?
She pushes through the screen door and then the three of us are just standing on the porch. Nathan eyes me. “He’s tired—”
“So’s Maggie.”
Nathan nods. “So we’ll pick this up later, K?”
I nod. What else can I do? Make a scene? I’m done making scenes. I’m handling shit these days. I’m doing good, too. I will not mess it up with an overreaction.
“What are we talking about?” Wendy asks.
“Just… family power trips.” I laugh the words out, but Wendy has never been a girl who appreciates humor. At least not with me. So her mouth just makes a little o shape. And when Nathan says, “Let’s go in the woods,” I agree immediately. “Great idea.”
Wendy looks over her shoulder at the screen door. Like she’s waiting for Nick Tate to come back. “He’s not your keeper,” I say. Or is he?
But no, Wendy shakes her head. “No. He’s not. But we’re a team, ya know. And we’re together. Which isn’t always the case, so…”
“It’s a walk in the woods, Wendy. We’re not gonna kidnap you.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Don’t be a bitch. We’re not that close, Indie. I’m not here for a fucking visit. We’re here for Donovan.”
Nathan intercedes. “We’re all here for Donovan. But he’s in a coma and Adam just went to bed after disappearing for a night, so it’s safe to say that there are no Donovan activities scheduled for this morning.”
She looks over her shoulder one more time, then gives in. “Fine. Let’s take a fucking walk through the fucking swamp. Sounds like a great idea.”
“We have paths,” Nathan says. He takes her hand. Then he takes my hand. And then we head towards the trees like that.
Hand in hand.
Which I have to admit I sorta like.
“Indie and I used to run in these woods for days at a time when we were kids and our bare feet wore the dirt smooth.”
I smile at the thought of us running as kids. And we did go barefoot. At least, I did.
“Who the hell in their right mind would go barefoot in the swamp?” Wendy asks.
Nathan and I just smile at each other.
“You two are crazy,” she says.
“Little bit,” Nathan agrees.
And to me, he’s still that little blond boy. He’s still wearing those t-shirts and cargo shorts. He’s teaching me how to fish, and swim, and—
But then I remember that I made some of that up. Maybe even all of it. There is no town upriver where we used to get ice cream and I have to say, that realization shook me. It shook my whole world. And then, of course, I found out that Donovan wasn’t just Donovan and that led me to… well. Maybe I’m not just me, either.
It makes sense. The blackouts. The craziness. The disappearing. All that unplanned killing.
Of course, I tell myself that I wasn’t killing people when I was blacked out. I tell myself that I’d remember something like that. And before this incident with Donovan, I mostly believed it.