Light in the Shadows

by A. Meredith Walters

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked in confusion. I threw my hands up in the air.

  “This is so stereotypically Clay Reed! So predictable. You track me down after practice; because you had to see me. We have this little moment, you stare into my eyes, make some lame point to touch me. And just when we’re getting somewhere, you turn around and leave. Because it’s all so difficult for you. Whatever, Clay! I rode that rollercoaster once. And I want a fucking refund! If you’re going to be living here, fine! But don’t yank me around. I don’t have the time or patience to go another round of will-he-won’t-he with you.” My voice petered out and I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to kiss his stupid, perfect lips or throw my water bottle at his head.

  Clay’s face went pale. “I never meant…no you’re right, Maggie. You didn’t deserve it then, and you sure as hell don’t deserve it now. But I’m trying, I swear. I’m working really hard to pull it together. I wish you could trust that.” Trust. There was no way I was giftwrapping that and handing it over to him anytime soon. It would take more than puppy dog eyes and a velvet tongue, that’s for sure.

  “I guess only time will tell, Clay,” I said, getting into my car. I didn’t wait for his response. I started the engine and left before I ended up making a fool of myself by chucking in all of my self-respect for a momentary taste of Clayton Reed heaven.

  When I got home, compelled by motives I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to identify, I dug the butterfly necklace out from the bottom of my jewelry box. I hadn’t worn it since I had taken it off in the wake of Clay’s kiss off letter.

  But here I was, carefully clasping the delicate chain around my neck, letting the thin silver butterfly lie hidden beneath my shirt.

  It rested cold against my skin but I felt the truth of why I was wearing it again burn through me. Clay was in my heart and in my head. It was exhausting continually pushing him out.

  But was I ready to let him in?

  Chapter Fifteen

  -Clay-

  I had started seeing my new therapist a few weeks ago. Shaemus Laughtry was about as different from Dr. Todd as you could get. Whereas my Grayson therapist was calm and collected, Shaemus was energetic and fervent. He was a likable guy, I’d give him that, but I was still on the fence as to whether he would be a good fit for me.

  Our sessions had included teleconferencing with Dr. Todd, in order to “ease my transition.” Shaemus had me sign a new no-harm contract and we went over what I wanted to get out therapy. It was hard for me to open up to someone new, but I was determined to give it the good ol’ college try.

  As it currently stood, I met with Shaemus two times a week. Tuesdays and Thursdays. I would go to his office in Staunton right after school and stayed until six. So in all I was meeting with my new shrink four hours a week. This was significantly less than what I was getting at Grayson, but it was still a lot of time to be spending in counseling every week. I was bitter. Of course I was bitter. What eighteen year old guy wanted to be stuck talking to a balding, middle aged dude that smelled like stale coffee and cigarettes instead of doing, oh I don’t know, anything else?

  I felt like a freak, needing to spend that much time talking about my feelings. How does that make you feel? Lets process that. Draw a picture of your happiest memory. Fucking hell, what a pain in the ass! I could have blown it off; conveniently forgotten to show up. But then where would that leave me? And the truth was I was too scared to find out.

  Things at home with Ruby weren’t getting any better. It was like Night of the Living Dead around there. And not in the cool George Romero kind of way. More like the crappy remake.

  She barely spoke to me and I felt like I was taking care of a child. She had yet to return to the shop. Tilly was running things for now, which was fine for the interim, but couldn’t be a long term solution. I was beginning to think that Ruby would never bounce back. But then wasn’t it messed up of me to expect her to be right as rain after only a few weeks? What did that say about me that I couldn’t let the poor woman grieve? That I was so set on helping her move on.

  The vibe in the house was miserable. For the first time in my life, I didn’t want to be there. But I couldn’t leave. I wouldn’t leave. Even if it did trigger every self-destructive impulse I had.

  “You need to find a hobby, Clay. Or a job. Something,” Shaemus announced as our session was coming to a close. I blinked slowly. Huh?

  “I have a hobby. I draw. A lot,” I replied, swearing that if he told me take up macramé I was out of there.

  Shaemus rubbed at his greying goatee thoughtfully. I started fixating on his sweater. It was a loud teal and neon green. Who woke up in the morning and thought Today I’m going to wear a sweater that will make everyone that looks at me want to gouge their eyes out?

  Just when I was going to ask where he bought his wardrobe because I think I might want one of those sweaters, he snapped his fingers. I waited for him to shout out “Aha!” and the moment would be complete.

  “Not drawing. Your art is wonderful but it’s become too tied up in the angsty stuff. I’m talking about something that would force you out of your house and interacting more with other people. You self-isolate entirely too much.”

  Oh God, he was going to tell me to sign up to coach little league, wasn’t he? I had a flash of screaming children and I shuddered in revulsion. Interacting with people, in my opinion, was entirely overrated. I shared my assessment with Shaemus, who raised his bushy eyebrows as though I had just proven his point. “That’s exactly why you should do it. You fall into old patterns when things get hard. That’s a natural, human response. But the point of all this is for you to break those patterns. To make yourself bust out of the mold you’ve created. So, that is why you need some sort of activity that keeps your mind active and focused on something positive.” He gave me several brochures on volunteering. Wow, I could spend my free time emptying bed pans as a Candy Striper. What the hell did you call a guy Candy Striper? Shit, it was going to drive me nuts.

  Or I could join the litter patrol and get up at six every Saturday morning to walk up and down the road picking up garbage like some sort of chain gang.

  Not liking any of those options, I decided on something a bit more productive. And that’s how I found myself, Thursday evening after my therapy session, filling out an application at Bubbles, home of gluttonous banana splits and hamburgers with a side of heart burn.

  I had never worked before, unless I could list illegal sales on my job history. But now that my parents had cut me off and Ruby’s shop was floundering, I figured it was time for me to roll up my sleeves and pitch in. And this would get me “interacting.” Mark your calendars folks, Clay Reed was gettin’ a job!

  “You’re here to schlep in with the rest of us?” I looked up to see Rachel smiling at me a little warily.

  I put down the pen and turned to face her. “I thought you worked at the movie store in town,” I said, indicating her Bubble’s apron. She smoothed down the purple fabric strapped to her front and looked sheepish.

  “I do. This is my second job. My car and insurance don’t pay for themselves. Though I really wish they would.” Her lopsided smile was a bit warmer this time. I laughed and nodded in agreement.

  “Yeah, I understand that.” I tapped the pen on the paper, feeling a bit awkward. What did I have to talk about with Rachel Bradfield? Should I start off with Hey! So remember that time I tried to off myself? Good times, right? Yeah, my sense of humor was seriously messed up.

  Discomfort aside, I needed the job. And I needed to prove to my therapist that I was capable of mingling in general society. No more playing scary shut in for me.

  “Well, cool. I’ll leave you to it. Nice seeing you again.” Rachel’s head bobbed a few times and I watched her with amusement. I was definitely making her uncomfortable. Which I found inappropriately funny. See, messed up sense of humor over here!

  Before she got too far away, she turned back around and cocked her head sideways.
“You know, I’m glad to see you’re doing okay. You had a lot of people worried about you. Maybe we could all get together sometime, you, Maggie, Daniel and me.” Okay, that was not what I was expecting her to say. Well crap, I had nothing sarcastic or droll to say to that.

  “Uh, yeah, that sounds g..good,” I stumbled pathetically over my words. Yep, I had been reduced to stuttering simpleton. I had never exactly been welcomed into the fold before. If you’re looking for the black sheep of Jackson High School, then search no further. Rachel had been nicer than most but it was a barely tolerant politeness. This offer not only surprised the shit out of me but left me feeling almost…included.

  “Fabulous. I’ll see you at school.” Rachel went back to her tables and I went back to filling out my application, actually looking forward to having the job.

  The manager offered to give me a few shifts to start, just to see how things went. I had been surprised that he gave me the job so quickly, but I didn’t ask him what the hell he ws thinking. My first one would be next week. Now that I had accomplished what I had set out to do, I was left with an entire weekend full of nothingness. And having nothing to do was a big no-no.

  I jingled my keys in my hand, debating whether I should head over to Ruby’s shop to check in with Tilly when the sound of an engine keeling over caught my attention.

  I couldn’t help but laugh as I watched Maggie pull into the parking lot, smoke billowing out of her tailpipe. Then her car stuttered to a stop, the air ringing with its death knell. Luckily she was able to coast into an empty parking spot. I could hear her cursing from twenty feet away and I couldn’t get rid of the goofy smile on my face as I watched her smack the steering wheel over and over again. An angry Maggie was a tiny bit scary but I was a masochist by nature.

  I walked over and tapped on her window. She looked up in surprise that turned into embarrassment once she recognized me. Her face was flushed and her neck was splotchy. She got out of the car and slammed the door shut.

  “What was I just saying about your car taking my car in a cage fight?” I leaned back to examine it. “I take it back.” Maggie groaned and rolled her eyes.

  “She put up a good fight but you’re right, it’s time to put her to pasture.” Maggie patted the hood. She reached into the back seat and grabbed her purse and a plastic grocery bag, then turned around to look at me.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, looking over my shoulder towards Bubbles.

  “Putting in an application. You are now looking at the newest addition of the Bubbles wait staff. Don’t get too hot and bothered by the purple apron.” I held my hands out to keep her back and she reluctantly laughed.

  “I’ll work on keeping my hands to myself.” Her smile fell and she scuffed her shoe into the asphalt, looking away from me. “Well, I’d better get inside and see if Rachel can give me a ride home. And she’d better considering I was only driving around in my death trap because she needed these shoes she left at my house. You know because the other forty pairs she owns just wouldn’t do for her date with Daniel later.” She held up a bag in way of explanation. “So, I’d better get in there. See ya around.”

  She started to walk around me when I reached out to grab her arm. Come on Clay, seize the moment, I yelled at myself. My life had become all about second chances. So why not jump at this one?

  “What do you say, you come with me to Ruby’s shop and then I can give you a ride home? I could use some help with the inventory. Ruby hasn’t been in for a while and the place is a mess.” I didn’t drop her arm; instead I slid my hand down her skin until I had ahold of her hand. I felt like a bit of a manipulator. I was using her need to help to get her to spend time with me. Well, whatever worked, right?

  Maggie looked at my hand holding hers and I realized I was seriously overstepping here. I moved my fingers from her skin and curled them into a fist before jamming them into my pocket. I instantly understood her anger during our last conversation. I was sending some seriously messed up mixed messages.

  But it’s like I couldn’t help myself. Being around her was more intoxicating than any drug. My body seemed to move of its own volition, seeking out any means to touch her. She was and always will be my weakness.

  My heart and mind were in a constant battle where Maggie was concerned. The near panic I felt when I was around her, made it difficult to see anything else. But my heart needed her. And that’s where we always had our problems. Because I couldn’t need her, not anymore. I could want her, long for her, but never need. Because that spelled disaster for both of us. And I had had more than enough disaster in my life.

  I was determined to do right by her and I had sworn that meant staying the fuck away from her. But being near her again made doing the right thing nearly impossible. In fact, I was thinking the right thing needed to take a hike. I was ready to do the what felt good thing for a couple of hours.

  For a guy who struggled with finding his place in the world, standing next to Maggie, I understood one thing on a very fundamental level. Wherever she went, whatever she did, that is where I belonged.

  Maggie chewed on her bottom lip for a minute and then gave me a small smile. “Just give me a minute. Let me take Rachel her hooker shoes.” She glanced over her shoulder as she made her way into the restaurant, as though to make sure I was still waiting for her.

  You crazy girl, don’t you know I’d wait for you forever?

  Maggie came back a few minutes later, this time wearing a large smile. Could that be for me? I sure freaking hoped so.

  “Let’s go.” She went around to the passenger side of my car and I followed her to unlock the door, just as I had a thousand times before. Holding the door for her, she climbed in with a soft “Thanks.”

  I couldn’t control the huge grin that spread across my face. My heart beat wildly in my chest, a reminder that this could still end very badly. That my screwed up head was still capable of fucking it all up. But for right now, I was letting my heart do the leading.

  Maggie reached down into the pocket of the door and pulled out my CDs. They were the same ones that I had always had. Thumbing through them, she chose one and put it in the player. The familiar strains of Placebo came out of the speakers and I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. “Nice choice,” I said, shooting her a sideways smile. We always had shared a common love of alternative glam rock. Okay, so I’m a closet Davie Bowie fan, what of it?

  “Of course,” she quipped as she started to bob her head up and down to the music. We pulled into the shop’s parking lot a short time later. “Ruby hasn’t been here in a while then?” she asked. I shook my head.

  “Nope, Tilly’s been covering things, but I’m trying to pitch in and help when I can.” We walked through the front door, the bells tingling above us. “Hey Tilly!” I called out in greeting.

  Tilly was reading a book behind the counter but jumped to her feet when she saw me. “Clay! Hi! I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

  “Yeah, I wanted to get a head start on the shipment we got in yesterday. Ruby would have come…” Tilly nodded in understanding so I didn’t bother to come up with an excuse.

  “Of course. I can help you if you want…” she offered, by I noticed she was now staring over my shoulder. She looked strangely irritated. Hmm, Tilly was usually too busy meditating or focusing her chi or whatever, to get pissed about anything. But the girl was definitely feeling the angry.

  Maggie was hanging back and I waved her up. “You remember Maggie, right? She’s gonna help me with the boxes. So if you need anything, we’ll be in the back.” Tilly’s smile had disappeared and I noticed some weird communication going on between her and Maggie. There was a full blown chick show down going on. I just wish I knew why.

  I never knew they had a problem with each other. I couldn’t remember them ever having interacted before.

  “Sure. I’ll be up here.” Tilly’s voice was decidedly cooler and I took that as our cue to vacate. Girls were such a head fuck sometimes.


  “Wonder what her problem is,” I mused, as I took in the huge pile of boxes lining the store room. Damn, this would take forever. Maggie snickered as she went to one and opened it.

  “I forgot how oblivious you were,” she commented, though it was clearly more to herself than to me.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked her. Me oblivious? Purposefully in denial maybe. But oblivious? Maggie simply shook her head and started unpacking the box. Grabbing the inventory sheet, she started checking off items as I came to sit down beside her.

  “Seriously, Mags. What am I so oblivious about? Don’t leave me hanging,” I dug. Maggie nudged me with her shoulder.

  “Tilly. She likes you, you idiot.”

  “Well of course she likes me, we’re friends.” This wasn’t the news of the century. What was the big deal? And to be honest I didn’t want to spend time talking about Tilly. There were about a million other things I’d rather be doing than talking at all. Yes, my mind went there. Of course it went there. Maggie was beautiful and her jeans fit her ass really well.

  “No, you dork. She likes you.” I snorted and shook my head.

  “Whatever, Mags.” I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. But I really didn’t care. Being here, with my girl, teasing and joking in a way that was almost…normal, that’s what I cared about.

  “See…oblivious,” she muttered, turning back to the box in front of her. I didn’t say anything else, just got down to our task. We worked quietly, taking out items and placing them on the floor.

  When we were done with one box, we moved onto the next. After a while, we started to talk again. Nothing serious, just random conversation about nothing in particular. It was the best useless conversation I had ever had.

  Maggie did this for me. She made it all matter. Even the insignificant stuff.

  “Crap, Clay, I really have to get home. I told my parents I’d be back in time for dinner,” Maggie said, getting to her feet. I closed up the box I had been working on and stood up, pulling my keys out of my pocket.