Winter Wakes

The silver Mercedes Benz ML550 sitting in my driveway confirmed that there in fact was a visitor waiting for me upon entry to my house. A damn expensive SUV, this had to be hers.

“Your mother has a nice car,” I commented, putting my own in park.

“Oh, so you know something about cars?” The intent to mock in the bastard’s voice shone through brilliantly.

I looked over at him and smiled, “It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know a Mercedes is a nice car, jackass.”

I realized that was a mistake when the arm removing my seatbelt was pulled painfully behind the chair. Since the bastard could go through things making a quick move to the back-seat after my retort was no problem. Damn him and his ethereal self.

“As of now I am not in the mood for such witty banter with you,” His voice came from behind me as I squirmed, trying to get my arm out of the unbearable position. “When we go in here, you do exactly as I say or so help me you will regret it.”

“Probably not as much as I regret being able to see you,” My arm was bent further in a position around the seat it should not have been in. “Uncle! Okay! I give. UNCLE, YOU DEAD SADIST!”

At the same time of release my head was given a rough shove forward, into the steering wheel. A brief screeching honk emitted from my car before I jerked back. I doubted the words “dead sadist” should have left my mouth as I rubbed my throbbing forehead with my unharmed hand. But they had done the trick considering I was no longer in an unbearably painful position. I’d just gained the imprint of a steering wheel on my forehead.

“Go.”

I decided to heed his demand instead of waiting around for more torture. The cold winter air bit my cheeks as I walked towards my front door, I could feel Simon’s presence behind me. I wasn’t sure if I was feeling anticipation or dread as I walked lightly up the steps; perhaps both.

“Good Maggie, you’re home,” The door had been opened by my father before I had reached it. There was no ignoring the strained, confused look on his face as he stepped to the side to let me in. If only he knew I was just as confused as he was. I really hoped his medication was holding out; he may have to go up on the dosages after all this was over.

I followed him into the living room that I had been passed out in the previous afternoon when Captain Jackass had somehow possessed me. Caroline Dreyton sat in the exact chair he had been in upon my awakening. She watched me with a calm smile on her face; the redness in her eyes that I remembered from our previous encounters was gone. The smile didn’t offer me much detail as to what was going through her mind, or why she was here. What had that idiot done to cause his beautiful mother to come to my house and request to talk to me?

“Maggie, how are you?” Her voice was soft; she remained seated where she was. I could only smile back nervously as I stood in the doorway with my heartbeat seeming to pound in my ears. Simon offered no help remaining silent, I prayed he was still there and hadn’t decided to wander off which would leave me to fend for myself in this strange situation. Oh god. I wouldn’t put it past him.

“Mr. Walton, I do apologize, but would you mind if Maggie and I had a private conversation?” Her eyes didn’t leave me.

There was a brief awkward silence that followed, my father probably in shock at the request and mortified at the possibilities of what may have been going on. I didn’t know much more than he did. Just that this had something to do with her jackass ghost of a son, Simon.

He cleared his throat behind me, “Of course. I have business to attend to at the funeral home as it is. It was nice seeing you again, Mrs. Dreyton.”

This was probably a good point for the panic to set in, and it did. First of all, my father’s retreating footsteps did nothing to help. I did not want to be left here with this woman and the ethereal being that was her son. And then there was the interrogation I was sure to face upon his return home as to what the hell was going on. I certainly didn’t know. As things appeared now, I was fucked; royally so.

I hadn’t moved from my spot in the archway of the living room as I heard the door close behind my father as he exited the house. More so, I couldn’t move.

“Go sit down. You look like an idiot.”

Simon’s voice seemed to be enough to propel me from where I stood and over to the couch. Caroline Dreyton’s slim figure sat perched on the edge of the chair in the corner of the room.

“How’s your cheek?”

Instinctively my fingers ran lightly across the barely bruised flesh she was referring to. I smiled slightly, “I didn’t feel a thing.”

“I do apologize for that, but you’ve got to know how big of a shock it was hearing that your dead son was actually still somewhat around. At least in spirit,” Her hands clinched around the white handkerchief she held in her lap. I could also imagine how difficult this conversation was.

“What did you need to see me about, Mrs. Dreyton?” I had my doubts as to whether or not that would pull her attention long enough to stop the tears from falling that appeared to be welling up in the corners of her eyes. Hell, I was trying, wasn’t I?

That actually seemed to do the job. Her eyes widened briefly as she appeared to remember her reason for being here. The light green eyes surrounded by the coils of pale blonde hair lit up with purpose.

“Good call. I didn’t want to see her cry again, so thanks for that one,” The relief in Simon’s voice was obvious from behind me. I glanced back momentarily to see him resting his elbows on the top of the couch, head in his hands. But he wasn’t looking at me; he was looking at her. Ghost boy was sensitive, what a surprise.

“Is he there?”

I jerked my head back around to look at Mrs. Dreyton, unaccustomed to someone knowing of his existence.

“It’s fine. You can tell her.”

I gave a weak nod, “Um, yeah. He’s here.”

I could see the tears forming in her eyes again. Crap.

“Mrs. Dreyton, please don’t cry,” I paused. “Simon hates to see you cry. So for him, please don’t.”

I was surprised when she laughed.

“That child, I swear. He isn’t as tough as he pretends to be. I guess that will never change.”

Simon refrained from saying anything behind me. Knowing him that was a bad thing. So maybe I shouldn’t have said that.

“Maggie, you’re nineteen if I’m correct,” Caroline Dreyton interrupted my thoughts with a business-like tone. I stiffened.

“Yes ma’am.”

“So it’s safe to assume you attend college?”

“Liston Campus.”

Simon scoffed behind me, “A community college. I should have known.”

I chose to ignore him.

“Grade point average?”

I bit my lip, “4.0.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I watched one of Caroline Dreyton’s golden eyebrows raise from where she sat. The desire to chew Simon out for his comments was becoming harder to suppress. Whereas he didn’t believe me she seemed quite impressed. After high school I’d stopped fucking around and actually started studying. My first semester had gone rather well thanks to the effort I had put into it. I was proud of myself.

“Well then, I see no point in beating around the bush any longer. How would you like to attend Brown University, Maggie?”

If I had been drinking anything I probably would have sprayed it across the coffee table. But I wasn’t. Instead I was sitting stunned on my couch, it felt as though I had been blindsided by an eighteen wheeler. I hadn’t seen that one coming. Brown University. That was Ivy League.

“I’ll go on and tell you now. You have one choice: Accept,” A voice warned from behind me.

“But… The semester’s already started, and I definitely don’t have the money for that kind of tuition. There’s no way they’d accept a kid who only has one semester of college under her belt, especially when it’s just a community college. That’s Ivy League. I am so not Ivy League material!” I spouted without much thought.

She smiled knowingly from where she sat, green eyes glistening with amusement.

“You don’t need to worry about tuition. I’ve made sure that’s covered. With a 4.0 you can’t be too horrible of a student so I think you could handle it,” She stood up for the first time in my presence, pulling an envelope out of her purse as she walked over to where I sat. “As for your acceptance, the Dean has seen to that. No worries. So, Maggie, what do you say?”

I carefully reached up and took the envelope she held out to me; it had the Brown University insignia on it. My fingers seemed to be numb against the paper. The Dean? What kind of connections did this woman have? I mean, my tuition being covered?

“I’ll be back in a few days to get your reply. I’m sure you’ll say yes. But I’d just like to confirm it in person,” She smiled, turning to look at me from the archway of the living room. “And tell Simon I did the other thing he asked me to as well. Tell him I love him.”

My lips didn’t move of my own accord then, I heard two voices combined as one. I wondered if she did as well, “I love you too, mom.”

With a heartbreaking smile, the blonde woman swept out of my house. I could only stare down at the envelope in my hands. Slowly, with trembling fingers I opened it and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. My eyes settled on one spot, reading what was there over and over again. I could feel my heart pounding in my ears again.

“Simon?”

“Yes, brat?” He replied. I could feel him leaning over my shoulder.

I cleared my throat as I continued to stare down at the paper, “Just what the hell is going on here?”

He chuckled, “All in good time, brat. All in good time.”

I couldn’t stop looking at the one line that read as follows:

Caroline Dreyton- Brown University Dean.