The Guilt of a Sparrow

by Jess B. Moore

  The thing was, the others were excited. I hadn't expected any one of them to care. But when I thought about it, it was kind of a big deal. The four of us still living at the homestead, we were close and we were selective who we brought home. Denver had people over occasionally that played music with him. Never a date, or even a close friend. He didn't do close friendships. As far as he was concerned having four little brothers constituted all the friendships he needed. Beau had Elliot, who came over so often the new had worn off for us a good four years ago. At this point Elliot was part of the family, and we didn't think to extend an invite because there was already an understood inclusion. I certainly didn't have people over. Not the girls I met with when the mood called, and not my friends. I kept my private life private. Dominic had a whole host of girls and friends. He was the least homebody of any of us, happy to go out more often than not. The thing with him, none of those girls he dated or the friends he hung out with were close, none were important enough to bring home.

  Then there was Maggie Porter.

  Dominic had befriended her all of two seconds ago. They had gone out once, texted with enough frequency that even I noticed the constancy of it, and all of the sudden they were best friends forever. I didn't care that he had made a friend, or that he was compelled to invite said friend over. I cared that it was Maggie. My Maggie.

  If I stayed, it would be awkward as hell. For me. For Dom. For Maggie. That was sure to leak over to Denver, Beau, and Elliot. I couldn't stay.

  If I took off and skipped dinner, it would be obvious. My not being in attendance would be noticed, talked about, and it would come back to bite my ass. It was a good way to raise a flag on the situation and tell everyone I was messed up over Maggie. I would never live it down with my family. Then there was Maggie to consider, and she would blame herself for my absence. I didn't want to do that to her. I had to stay.

  I started day drinking to prepare for the evening.

  In an effort to be technically at home, yet out of the way, I sat on the back deck an hour before she was supposed to show up. I would stay until one of my jackass brothers finally called me indoors. No one bothered me. It was hot, the shade unable to counteract the high temps. I took long slow drags of bitter IPAs and let time swim past me. It was a coward move, and I wouldn't get away with it all night, but for the time being I couldn't think of a better plan.

  “What's with you?” Denver stepped through the French doors and onto the deck. We had built it together three summers back; it was wide as the house and deep enough to hold a large table, the grill, and an outdoor bar, with extra room for a scattering of chairs.

  He leaned against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest. He'd let his hair grow out, probably not on purpose so much as he hadn't made it to the barber in too long, and it curled around his ears and neck. He was the biggest of us, which had always made some sort of sense to me since he's the oldest. Only he didn't look thirty-one, he looked the same as always, which was outwardly aloof with too much going on behind his eyes. People said I was intense, but for me that title went to Denver.

  “Nothing.” I claimed.

  “Bullshit.” He countered.

  I lifted my eyes to his face and flipped him the bird. His lips pulled up on one side into a half-amused smirk.

  “Let me rephrase: is there a reason you're avoiding that girl?” He hooked a thumb back toward the house.

  “Nope.”

  “Okay. Don't tell me.” He shrugged. Denver could do without knowing personal stuff. Still, he stood there and stared at me. “Dom will be all kinds of pissed if you don't get in there.”

  “He'll be more pissed if I say the wrong thing to ... her.” At the last minute I swallowed her name. To let it pass my lips was wrong. The pain of not saying it was less strong, still I winced. I hid my reaction behind another drink of my beer.

  “You have a thing for Maggie Porter?” He sounded honestly surprised, and more curious than I would have thought. He didn't laugh. His calm reaction wasn't one of disbelief or mocking, only mild intrigue.

  “I didn't say that.”

  “You didn't have to.” He didn't care about relationships, but he was observant. “Still, you better come in.”

  I nodded and sighed. I drained the last of my beer and grabbed another. Denver took one as well. So much for the Hide on the Deck plan.

  We found Dominic in the kitchen. No surprise there. He was in his element in the midst of the organized chaos of meal prep. Telling myself not to look for or at Maggie was futile. My eyes weren't listening to me, and went directly to where she sat perched on a tall stool on the far side of the island.

  “What do you do at the high school? You enjoy your job?” Beau stood a step away from her and peered at her with a benign smile. He was curious about everyone and always asked too many questions. No one ever seemed to mind.

  “Oh. Um.” She paused speaking, like she had to consider her answer carefully. Her eyes darted around the room at all of us, and I knew she was nervous. We made her uncomfortable, not us specifically, but as a group of people giving her their full attention. “No. I mean, yes.”

  Beau reached out a hand and patted her shoulder. It was an innocent move, and still I found I had to restrain myself from marching over there and tearing his hand off her.

  “Which is it, Maggie Baby?” Dominic called the words over his shoulder as he rinsed berries in the sink.

  Another strong dose of jealousy coursed through my system. I answered it with more silent restraint. Baby?

  Maggie smiled at him, an easy natural thing, and when she looked at only Dom she relaxed a little.

  “I don't hate working there. It's a good job, and the hours are great.” She shrugged and continued to look toward Dominic. He gave her a wink when he caught her focusing solely on him.

  The food was almost ready. Elliot was helping, stacking plates on the butcher block counter and pulling out silverware. Dominic was drying his hands on a worn thin flour sack towel. Our mama had embroidered it when we were kids, or even longer ago, and none of us could bear replacing it.

  “But?” Beau blinked down at her, but she didn't look at him.

  “But it's not what I want to do.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I don't know.”

  Denver made a sound, like huh, likely because he had always known what he wanted to do. An all-consuming interest in the fiddle had been the core of his life for about as long as any of us could remember. Beau looked like he had about a hundred more questions. Elliot rounded the island and flanked Maggie on the opposite of where Beau stood. He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in.

  “Don't worry about it, doll. I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up either.”

  Rather than shy away from him, she turned her head and looked at him with a relieved smile.

  “But you're good at ... everything.” Her admission was sweet and simple. It was clear she knew about Elliot, even if she had never officially met him.

  Elliot and Beau both laughed.

  “That's not entirely accurate.” Elliot's smile was a thousand watts and his affection for Maggie was obvious. He smiled at the group, and then directed it down toward the shy trusting girl tucked to his side. “I like you.”

  “It is true.” Beau said it like he found it aggravating, but we all knew different.

  “You don't have to suck up, B. I already like you.” Elliot gave his boyfriend a wink, and Beau answered simply by rolling his eyes.

  “Alright, alright, food is ready.” Dominic pulled all attention to himself and gestured at the food lining the countertops. “Maggie, would you like to eat in the dining room or out on the deck?”

  Denver groaned. He hated the deck this time of year because it was so brutally hot. He didn't hate the deck; he hated being outside. I chuckled at his reaction. I already knew what Maggie would choose.

  “On the deck.” Her voice was quiet, and I wasn't sure how many in th
e room caught it. “If that's okay?”

  “Load your plates, boys.” Dominic took Maggie's hand, pulled her up and around the island. “But ladies first.”

  Her face went immediately and delicately red. Her anxiety with people watching her, with going first when she didn't know what she was doing, was at a high. I shifted forward, debating helping her. I could push my way through and go first, and it would take the attention off her.

  But Dominic knew. He picked up a plate and put it in her hands. He took one for himself. They walked along the row of prepared food together, all the while he told her what each dish was and helped himself to the food alongside her. Her cheeks cooled. I watched her take small portions of each dish.

  Dominic had made all his favorite Cajun dishes. The kitchen reeked of spice in a way that made my mouth water and my stomach growl. Beau had concocted spiked lemonade for the occasion and carried a pitcher along with glasses out to the deck.

  We gathered there, on that deck with plates of food and glasses of sugary tart alcohol, and it was perfect. The rightness of it exquisite and painful. Maggie sat beside Dominic, not hiding her desire to stay attached to him. Elliot sat on her other side and bent over to whisper to her frequently. As the two non-MacKennas they bonded. I watched her find her place and the anxiety in her slip away.

  She didn't have much family. I couldn't remember exactly when her dad had skipped town, only that he had never been around. It was Mrs. Porter raising Luke and Maggie for about as long as I could remember. The last few years, it was just the two of them, mother and daughter holding together their little family.

  Our dad had left too, shortly after Dom was born, leaving our mama with five boys and a massive house to care for on her own. Joseph put himself in charge, acting the part of whatever he thought a dad would do, bossing us around. By the time he was in high school, he was so used to playing the Dad card and laying out orders, we were all sick to death of him. He was more tolerable married and living across town; in small doses. Even without our parents these last few years, we were a tight knit family.

  Maggie fit, sitting there with her shy smile growing, and her interest peaked each time one of us shared a story. This girl with hardly any family to speak of, found herself surrounded on all sides with us brothers. It seemed to me she liked it, she liked being part of our family.

  “Who's going to the Super Summer Slip'n Slide whatever next weekend?”

  I had ignored the signage for the event with tenacity. It was the thirtieth anniversary of the event, which in itself was ludicrous. Thirty years of the townspeople of Fox River showing up to the city park in their swimsuits and setting up an obscene number of Slip'n Slides. I had gone as a kid - we all had - and it was a day of wicked sunburns, laughter, and exhaustion. Since about the time I turned thirteen, I skipped the day festivities, and showed up for the bonfire. It was held on the far west side of the Wakefield's land, down by the Fox River itself. The land dipped there, formed a bowl of a field. Mr. Wakefield would clear it out and a few able bodies would spend the afternoon hauling in firewood. While everyone, young and old and middle aged, spent the day at the ridiculous Slip'n Slide event, only the late teens and the under thirties were at the bonfire.

  “No.” Maggie's answer was tinged with sadness, but also resignation.

  “Why on earth not?” Elliot sat back and asked the question like he was personally offended by her lack of attendance. “Where else in the world can you find an entire town of folks walking around in swimsuits and embarrassing themselves sliding across wet plastic?”

  I knew she wouldn't go. She had only gone twice that I remembered, when she was still pretty young, and her brother was meant to keep an eye on her. Lucian ran off and did his own thing, and I watched her from a distance, hoping she wouldn't notice me. Maybe hoping that she would notice. She wouldn't go now because her mama hated all town events. I would have thought everyone knew that already.

  “Our town is so strange.” She let out a small laugh and shook her head.

  Dominic opened his mouth, like he might say something. To change the subject. Or to convince her to go. Who knows.

  “Her mama won't let her.” Denver chimed in, and as soon as he said the words his face went stony. He had the bad habit of speaking words that were in his head, that he found obvious, without thinking through how other people might feel. He was right. It was a simple truth. Unfortunately it effectively silenced the whole group of us, and Maggie looked like she might cry.

  Damn it.

  “Maggie Blue is a twenty-four-year-old woman and can make her own decisions.” Dominic stood up for her with a reassuring but solemn voice, and patted her knee in a caring gesture.

  I ground my teeth together. Blue? What the hell was with Dom and the interchangeable middle names? He was making me crazy.

  “Yeah.” I watched her steady her chin and sit up taller. She nodded her head and said the word as if she were convincing herself more than us. “Yeah, you're right. I'm an adult.”

  “Damn straight, sweetie.” Elliot gave her a wink and lifted his glass of high gravity lemonade to her.

  “What's your mama got against town events?” Beau asked, head cocked to one side, curiosity eating him up.

  I glared at Beau. He wasn't looking at me and didn't notice my disdain. I moved to set my beer bottle down before I threw it at a wall. Then decided empty hands were a bad idea, and clutched the glass too tight in my fist. Was he trying to make her uncomfortable?

  Maggie dipped her head, gathered her wits, then looked to Beau. Oddly enough she wasn't upset. She had that same resolve from seconds before when she had declared herself a grown up.

  “She used to go. We all did, as a family.” She did that thing where he voice was too quiet. I didn't think she was aware of it. We all went silent, and leaned in to catch hold of her words. I studied her face, and her warm brown eyes. “Then after my dad left, Mama was always working. And Luke, I mean, you guys know, he was always in trouble. If she took us, or if she let us go, he'd wreck something. After a while she was just too embarrassed.”

  I was floored by her response. I had the feeling my brothers were the same. The honesty of it stung, because we did know. We knew Luke and his antics, and we understood why her mama would be embarrassed. Maggie's place in all that, missing out because she was too good and quiet to speak up, made it painful. The air was bitter with the facts of her life. Then it shifted, because we all as a whole took her in. Just like that, in silent agreement, she was ours. Dominic had already laid claim to her, and I knew then why he'd wanted us all there for dinner. Beau and Elliot rallied at her other side, and looked at her with such love and acceptance. They spoke to her, and I didn't hear their words. My heart pounded too hard in my chest, and my ears only heard a high-pitched keening. Probably my brain disintegrating; or my heart exploding. Even Denver looked abashed, and softened toward her. I was proud of my brothers; pleased they would fall so easily in love with this sweet bit of girl. I was equally angry that they were able to love her so freely. I pushed up from my chair and stalked down the steps into the yard.

  “Cotton!”

  Dominic called after me. I didn't turn. In fact, I walked faster, going nowhere except away from my family and the girl I couldn't get out of my head.

  “Cotton. Alexander. MacKenna.” He fully yelled each piece of my name.

  I tuned him out and stalked past the barn. On the other side, the land sloped down, and I was able to disappear from their sightline. I didn't stop there. I had no destination in mind, but whatever I was looking for, I hadn't found it yet. That was the problem with running away, when your only goal was to leave something behind, but never to find something ahead.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Magnolia

  The sun was setting behind the thick rows of trees that circled the MacKenna property. I had never been to the house before, and when I arrived it took my breath away. It was a big old farmhouse, two stories, white washed clapboard siding, stark
black shutters that looked functional rather than decorative, and a deep porch that ran the length of the house and then turned the corners to go along the sides. I'd spent the first half hour adjusting to the size of the house and how small it became after all those boys were in the same room. Dominic wouldn't let me help him with dinner, so I'd sat there useless on a too tall barstool. I hadn't followed through on bringing alcohol, because I wasn't sure how to drink and I was less sure what they would like to drink. Thankfully Beau had made an obscene amount of spiked lemonade and he'd poured me a glass as soon as he'd officially met me.

  I noticed the lack of one brother in particular right off the bat. All I could think about as the others talked around me and bless them tried to pull me into the conversation, was that Cotton wasn't there and it was because of me. I had driven him out of his own house.

  Dominic cooked with an ease and that belied hidden skill. He kept surprising me. The food was all rich with spice, and leveled with a subtle creaminess, and there was something about the scent that made me crave the taste.

  Eventually Cotton came in, following Denver who'd gone to fetch him from the back deck. I wasn't sure if it was better that I had not pushed him from his house, but that he hated being near me so much that he hid when I arrived. The sting of it wasn't any less.

  Though Beau kept peppering me with questions, and Elliot kept giving me easy assurances, I was wound up tight. Elliot, being an outsider, latched onto me, and whispered answers to the riddles that were the MacKennas. He told me we had to stick together. I didn't tell him there was no point because I would never belong to them the way he did.

  Beau and Elliot were leaving the next day to go to the hot air balloon festival. It was such a funny coincidence they were going to the same place as Alyssa and Jacob. I urged them to try and find one another. It was such a small world sometimes, even outside our small town.

  Out on the deck, with the land rolling away from us as far as the eye could see and only the tree line to set a boundary, it was easier. After a couple hours with the boys, and allowing myself to enjoy each of them, it was easier.