Authors: Christopher Shields
The Steward (21 page)
“You know what I mean, Maggie.”
“No, I don’t. You just broke up with Rhonda—it hasn’t even been a day yet. You were in love with her and now you’re just hurt and angry because she dumped you. It’s so obvious--you’re rebounding,” I said, working it all out as I spoke. “She’ll probably call you back to apologize tonight. You know how she is.”
“I’m not in love with her. I
can’t
be in love with her, Maggie. I believe you can only love one person at a time…”
“Okay, Stop!” I begged him.
Just drive back down the hill and let him out—now!
“No, I won’t,” he whispered. “I did what I had to do to spare her feelings. I told her that I couldn’t pretend anymore. She didn’t break up with me ... I broke up with her. She had to know the truth, Maggie, and so do you,” he said. “I’m in love with you.”
I was speechless. No one had ever said those words to me before. My heart betrayed me and raced in my chest. Before I could do anything, he pulled me to him and kissed me. His lips were strong but soft, and his warm, moist breath covered my face like a summer breeze. I tried to pull away at first, but he was stronger than me. In fact, I grew weaker. My head spun, and I realized after a moment or two that I hadn’t pushed away but clung to him instead. I clenched a hand full of his hair and I pressed my mouth to his. I’d forgotten about everything else in the world.
He pulled me closer, and I could feel the heat of his body through my dress. I fought to form my lips to fit his more perfectly—I wanted to be closer to him if it were possible. His breaths quickened, as did mine. He pulled his lips from me and repeated, “I love you.” I still couldn’t move. I simply lost myself in his beautiful face.
I wasn’t aware that anyone else existed at the moment. I was lost staring into his blue eyes. So lost, I didn’t notice that another car had pulled into the driveway. I didn’t know how long it sat there either. I didn’t really care. When it finally registered, I realized that I was blocking the road and needed to let whomever it was pass. He looked at me and smiled, shaking his head.
“Sorry,” he said. He turned toward the car and waved as I backed the T-bird into a clearing and started to turn back toward the cottage.
Doug suddenly halted, and stared at the other car. I looked up to see who was waiting–Rhonda. She sat in her mom’s BMW, glaring at both of us for a moment that seemed to drag on forever. It surprised me when she finally moved. She rolled her window down and threw a package tied with a bow onto the driveway and screamed … something. The BMW lurched backwards as she recklessly careened out of the driveway, barely missing the rock gate. The black car skidded to a halt on the road, then shot off, screeching, in a cloud of tire smoke.
Doug shook his head and quietly muttered, “Oh shit.”
Spring break had ended. Mom decided to take on the burden of driving me to swim practice and back home—after last week she was a lot more attentive. Riding in the burgundy 1965 Thunderbird, another from Aunt May’s collection, I didn’t say much as she steered through the rolling countryside surrounding Bentonville. I focused on the road and listened to the rumble of the exhaust as Mom drove.
“You know she’ll be alright,” she said. “The doctors said she’ll probably be back in school in time to finish the semester.”
I didn’t say anything—I just nodded. I couldn’t look at her. Instead I focused on the speedometer of the car, watching as the red bar slid under the number sixty, forcing out the white. It reminded me of all the good and all the bad that fought for my attention this week, each one trying to push the other off the dial in a continuous tug-of-war. She gave up trying to talk, and looked back at the road.
* * *
My mind wandered back to my party a week ago. Doug and I had come back down the hill after it happened, after the kiss, after we’d seen Rhonda. Most of my friends went back to the tent and danced. Dad stood there with Aunt May in the driveway, and Mom snapped pictures of me in the car. Candace and Ronnie stood at the garden wall looking at me like they’d seen what happened—I knew I was about to get the third degree. Gavin wasn’t there and neither was Sara. Had they seen it? I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t know how far their ranges extended.
Doug tried to talk to me when he got out of the car, but I couldn’t look at him. I felt anger for having let him kiss me, but I felt excitement, too.
He’s gorgeous, kind, funny, but…
Unfortunately, my heart was still racing, and I couldn’t get Rhonda’s face out of my head. Everything spun in a whir and I felt off-balance.
I scanned the area looking for Gavin, all the while telling Aunt May how much I loved the car. Rather than drive it more, I pulled it down to the Toy Box. Alone for a moment, I tried to collect my thoughts and relax. Looking back at the little crowd by the cottage gate, I noticed Doug, who just stood there with an apologetic look on his face.
What am I going to do about you?
Walking back up the driveway, I focused on Candace and Ronnie and I forced a smile. Not ready to talk, I strode past them. Without slowing, I walked into the garden, with them following me, and right past Doug. I planned to surround myself with a lot of people so they couldn’t ask me anything.
Gavin came out of the Cottage as we approached. He smiled at me and said he needed to be going. A knot grew in my gut.
He’s different now—exactly like he had been before Friday.
I asked him why he was leaving, and he simply smiled at me and glanced at Doug, who was still standing by the front gate.
“Oh no,” I whispered.
He smiled again and gave me a hug before he walked to his car. The hug was passionless and friendly, like one you’d give your grandmother. All the chemistry I’d felt earlier was gone.
He saw what happened. He saw all of it—do something!
I went after him, and Candace started to follow until I shot her a back-off look. She nodded, turned, and went to Ronnie and Doug. Gavin walked to his car, and I followed in hot pursuit as I tried to think of some way to explain it, to make him understand. He climbed in—the sound of the door shutting struck me like a punch in the stomach. I put my hand on his arm though the window.
“Don’t be silly, Maggie, everything is fine,” he said.
His voice was calm, measured, and he acted completely nonchalant. It killed me. He grinned and relaxed in the seat.
“I’ll be back tomorrow. You go enjoy your party.”
I tried to stop him, determined not to let go of his arm.
It’s a stupid plan, but it’s all I have.
I made up my mind, right then and right there, to tell him exactly how I felt. And then he bristled.
It was a confusing reaction at first, and it left me wondering what I’d done wrong—well, what
else
I’d done wrong. That was when I saw Chalen walking down the driveway, his eyes locked onto me. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and my entire body went rigid. Gavin studied him in his rearview mirror, and didn’t move. I turned to face Chalen, backing away a step to put more of the car between us, as my breath and heartbeat quickened. Chalen curved his lips into a distorted smile, apparently sensing my discomfort.
He looked different--not nearly as grotesque as I remembered, but much more menacing. He appeared thirty years younger, with thick, dark, greasy hair, and no older than my father. The scars on his face, while visible, were dramatically smoother. He stood taller, and stalked up like a predator—his eyes still locked on me like a wolf on a deer. At ten feet he stopped. Sara emerged from nowhere and stood between us. I was relieved to see her and felt a little safer.
“Chalen, what brings you down the hill?” Sara said curtly.
“I just came to wish our new Steward a
Happy Birthday,
” he said, emphasizing the words to make them sound sincere.
Sara looked at him without blinking. “Well, that explains the ...
slightly ...
less unpleasant visage.”
He gave Sara an amused look and lifted his arm toward me. “And to bring her this.”
He held a gift in his hand. At first it confused me—I had no idea why he’d bother to bring me a gift. Gavin hadn’t moved a muscle, and continued to stare at Chalen in the mirror. They were all silent, and it made me uncomfortable. I knew they were communicating in the way they always did when they didn’t want me to hear them. Chalen smiled again, revealing his sharp-looking teeth, and slowly looked behind me. His milky blue eyes, menacing and cruel, made me nervous. My heart sped up. When I turned back toward the house, I saw Candace, Ronnie, and Doug watching us, undoubtedly trying to figure out who the newest guest was. It petrified me because I knew what Chalen was capable of doing to them. Seeing his eyes on anyone I cared about made me feel vulnerable.
I looked back at him when he cleared his throat, the package still in his outstretched hand. His nails grew long and sharp, and they made his fingers look more like talons than digits. Another ploy, I thought, to elicit fear. Sara took it from Chalen and handed it to me, never taking her eyes off him. Silver and white foil paper covered the box, and a silver lace ribbon finished it off. It was very pretty, but it didn’t fit—it seemed too pretty to have come from him. Then I noticed a dent on one corner and a dirt stain. It was the package Rhonda had thrown on the driveway. I was so upset by what had happened, I’d forgotten about it.
“How very rude! Aren’t you even going to unwrap it? And after she made the trip all the way out here.” He shook his head.
“I apologize,” I said.
I’d say just about anything not to upset him with my friends so close. Inside the box I found a note that read:
“I saw it in the road and thought I’d hand deliver it. I’ll be on my way now, but I’m so looking forward to a longer visit, Maggie O’Shea—Steward of the Weald.”
His thin lips curled down at the edges. He enjoyed this, and I hated him for it. Before, I’d only felt fear when I’d seen or thought about him. Fear turned to anger as I realized he had power over me, and I had given it to him.
“I’m sure Maggie is grateful,” Gavin finally spoke. “Now, if you will, Chalen,” he said, pointing up the hill with his thumb.
“Of course, of course…” Chalen bowed slightly at the waist. “The view is much better from my place, anyway—a clear shot of the front gate, but you can see the front gate from here, can’t you, Gavin?” he said slowly and deliberately, allowing his smile to expand.
It was painfully obvious that Gavin saw what happened, but it seemed worse that Chalen had been leering at the both of us. He fed on my pain and enjoyed it. No more, I said to myself.
Chalen spun and moved up the hill more quickly than he should have been able to. I hoped none of my friends noticed the
inhuman
movement. His departure was a relief, though. My heart slowed down and my body quickly relaxed. The Maserati started in front of me.
Gavin smiled as he pulled his sunglasses off his head and slid them over his eyes. “Go back to your party, Maggie. I’ll see you tomorrow, I promise.”
With that, he drove up the hill. I wanted to stop him but Sara still stood next to me. I’d missed my opportunity.
“I think you’ve left a beautiful young man rather speechless and confused,” Sara said.
A sharp breath caught in my throat as I wondered if she meant what I thought she meant. Following her eyes, I realized she was talking about Doug, who still hadn’t moved. I forced a smile.
There was nothing I could do about Gavin or Rhonda at the moment, but I promised myself to make things right with both of them. I still didn’t know what to do about Doug, but I couldn’t leave him standing there in the driveway like a homeless puppy. When I finally looked him in the eyes again, my stomach tingled.
Crap
.
Sara and I walked back over to him. I grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and playfully tugged it a couple of times—he relaxed when I did. Doug didn’t say a word—he just smiled and followed me back to the party.
It wasn’t easy, but I did my best to settle back into a good mood and ignore the looks I got from Candace and Doug. Candace knew what I was up to, and gave me
the look
every time our eyes met—raised eyebrow, pursed lips. When she managed to get close enough, she fixed my lipstick and winked. She didn’t have the ability to see things like the Fae, but her powers of observation worked just fine.
Just as I began to relax, Mom came across the yard with a worried look on her face—the same look she had when Mitch fell off the roof in Florida and broke his arm. When she got close to me I noticed Dad, also looking upset, walking toward Lance.
“Mom, what’s going on? Are you alright?” I asked.
“Yes, I’m fine, but Maggie,” she said. “There’s been an accident.”
I looked around the tent to find him. “Mitch?”
“No, honey, Mitch is fine. He’s upstairs with Aunt May.”
I exhaled and the rush of adrenalin began to subside, the extra heat slowly leaving my face.
“Maggie, it’s Rhonda.”
“Rhonda?” I asked, staring at her because it was the last name I expected to hear.
“She’s been in a car wreck, and it’s bad. I just got off the phone with her mom. They’re airlifting her to the hospital in Fayetteville.”
* * *
Remembering Mom’s words that day snapped me back to the present. I was glad it was Mom who drove me to practice every day, because she patiently gave me space and didn’t demand to talk about it. She knew the struggle I’d gone through since the party—since Rhonda’s accident—and she was ready to listen whenever I was ready to talk.