Summer Shadows

“Maggie, they’re gonna nail you with the ball, I do hope you realize that.”

“Your brother almost did that once before. I’ll live. Plus it’ll save me from what’s going down later, so it could be a blessing,” I deadpanned.

Behind me, Lillian scoffed.

The day was hot, but the lower deck of the Windjammer provided ample shade from the blazing sun; the slight breeze that whipped around the dunes didn’t hurt, either. A few sparse wisps of clouds hung in the sky; nothing that would be kind enough to obstruct the sun for any amount of time, though. In front of me, Cal gave a little shout, followed by the soft ‘thwump’ of the ball being hit. He and Simon were practicing with some tourists for a volleyball game they were playing later that afternoon. More accurately, they were humoring and trying to teach these two kids a few tricks of the game. Their pupils were younger teenagers, lanky and inexperienced, neither of them had really grown into their bodies, and I had looked up from my book once or twice to catch them almost tripping over their own feet, or hitting the ball in essentially the wrong direction. Lillian’s claim they’d hit me with the volleyball didn’t exactly seem farfetched. Neither Cal nor Simon had laughed at their clumsiness though, in fact, they’d both been rather supportive of the boys’ attempts.

I couldn’t help but think about how there was some kind of comfort in Cal and Simon’s interactions as I half-watched them. It dawned on me for the first time in ages Simon might have had another friend who actually enjoyed his company, and not just using him as a means to an end. Thinking back on George Max was an unpleasantry I didn’t actually care to focus on, but the contrast between George and Cal was too great to ignore. Cal seemed genuine, and perhaps the mess of a situation we were in had prompted us to all get a bit closer, in a way, for the better. Regardless, Simon deserved a real friend after all he had been through, and Cal? Cal seemed at least a bit relieved to have someone to share his long kept secret with. Hell, they both seemed glad to be themselves around another.

“Its just dress shopping, that’s fun! I wish I could go,” the ghost mumbled behind me. I gave a small shake of my head.

“Dress shopping for a formal event I’d rather not go to. “

I’d kept my promise, and hadn’t told any of the three of my encounter with Lillian. When I’d finally met up with them in the suite three days prior, I told them what I remembered of just before Darren’s possession, and nothing more. In turn, they had informed me of what had gone on during my time out, and at least bits and pieces about Lillian. Simon—naturally—had omitted asking her to threaten Darren.

During the span of the last few days, we had all made a point to at least keep together for the most part; wariness over Darren lingered, and I hated the fact that once or twice over the course of the time period I had thought I’d heard something that sounded akin to an agonized and inhuman scream. It was a thoroughly disturbing sound. Cal had stayed over with Katie, or she’d stayed at his house, and Simon and I continued to share the same bed. He never ceased to be a source of comfort for me.

It seemed he had noticed though, the revelation of Darren’s possession had hit me in an awful way. I’d taken a 45-minute shower as soon as we’d returned that evening, scrubbing my skin until it was red and raw, as if that would somehow eliminate the fact he had been in it—a task proven fairly difficult by the request of the doctor not to get my stitched up hand wet. It hadn’t helped much, and no matter how desperately I tried not to think about it, it truly seemed inescapable. Simon hadn’t commented on my behavior when I’d crawled into bed rubbing at my arms and hands with a sense of discomfort, but the look of concern on his face as he’d studied me had been more than enough. From there on out, Simon had seemingly been extra gentle with me, almost hesitant when it came to our contact.

“Please, my family hosts it every year. It’s a good time, Maggie, I swear.”

I heaved a sigh, glancing over my shoulder to find she’d settled me with a pout of sorts. Lillian’s existence was still a bit of an enigma to me. I knew she had been dead approaching two years in less than a month, but Cal, nor her, and ever brought up the cause of her demise. From what I’d experienced with the dead, I had heavy doubt it was anything simple, or peaceful. I couldn’t bring myself to ask, though. It didn’t seem like something she nor him was willing to divulge. I understood that completely; death could be traumatic and messy; especially when it’s victim was someone so young. And if she was still here, I doubted the cause was something… natural.

“What? What’s that look about?” She took her arms off the table where they’d been propped, settling them into her lap as she gave me a look similar to the one she’d settled me with in her family’s suite—something that hovered between wariness and concern. I blinked, giving my head a little shake.

“Sorry, just thinking about Darren,” I lied, turning back to face the dunes and my book.

“I promised I’d tell you if I saw him. I just… haven’t.”

“Yeah, I believe you. Sorry about that.”

An awkward silence settled in as I flipped a page in Lord of the Flies, trying unsuccessfully to focus on the text. Curiosity was one of my greatest vices, I believed, and this was one instance I genuinely felt I shouldn’t be sticking my nose in.

“Y’all still playing volleyball? Really?” Katie’s voice cut through the summer air like a welcome cannon blast, and despite how little I wanted to go dress shopping, I found myself heaving a sigh of relief when she walked up beside me, hands on her hips as she stared out at the four on the volleyball lot before us. She’d been getting the oil changed in her car before our venture into the city, something—for some reason—she wanted to do alone. Perhaps the constant company was a bit much and she’d just needed a break. I couldn’t blame her, I doubted anyone would.

Cal glanced back after he served, dramatically blowing her a kiss before he turned back to the game; Simon’s partner had somehow managed to counter the shot, which gave Simon the opportunity to spike it over the net. Cal’s partner wasn’t so lucky on a return, clumsily sending the ball flying towards the walkway that led to the beach. Cal helped the kid up as Simon and his partner exchanged high fives; our eyes met for a moment and he gave me a little wink. In response I hid behind my book.

“You could always join us, you know. You and Maggie. It’d be fun,” Cal called back, making his way over to us. Simon followed suit, not far behind, a grin on his face. Both were covered in sweat and sand; over all a very nice sight to take in.

Katie rolled her eyes. “And risk breaking my little chicken legs? I sure as shit don’t think so, you tall assholes. Totally unfair.”

“I’m the complete opposite of athletically inclined so, count me out as well,” I added.

Simon plopped down beside me, grabbing his water bottle from the table as he pushed his damp curls back from his face. I raised an eyebrow. He noticed after a moment, and stared back at me. “What?”

“You’d be better off pulling your hair back if you’re out here playing, you know.”

“Logically, yes. But if you want to get down to it, I left my hairband at home. So unfortunately that’s a no go.” He shrugged, taking a few swigs of his water as he leaned back against the table. I paused for a moment, glancing down at the hair-tie that kept my loose braid together. With a sigh, I set my book down before giving it a careful tug off of the braid and shifting to face Simon better. It was his turn to raise an eyebrow as I reached up, running my fingers through his hair as I pushed the pale curls back from his face. It didn’t take long to collect it all into a bun—despite the nuisance of the bandage I still wore—and give the hairband a few twists. I could feel my face burning as I pulled back, his eyes hadn’t left me the duration of it.

“There, no more hair in your face. You’re welcome.” Taking a moment to avoid looking back at him, I shook out the messy waves of my hair from their braid, pretending to be focused on that instead of the heat that colored my features.

“Cute.” Was the only word spoken by Simon before he leaned in, taking my wrapped hand and placing a soft kiss on the palm; the heat that surged to my features felt like the result of a volcanic eruption. He spoke again, remaining just about as close. “And thank you.”

“Simon, I swear to god stop trying to break Maggie, we still have an errand to run and I don’t need her a short-circuited mess for the whole afternoon.” I felt one of Katie’s arms wrap around my head, and pull it against her chest as her other hand swatted at Simon. In response, he merely laughed. I on the other hand, felt the heat reach my ears. I very well may have been short-circuiting. “I mean, hell, seeing you so soft with someone after how aloof you were with Felicia is enough to almost make me short-circuit.“

“Excuse you, I’m right here!” Cal cleared his throat, and a mock look of offense on his face; I was still a little too stunned to so much as grin.

“You, shush. Let me marvel at Simon’s 180 in behavior in peace.” Katie still hadn’t let go of me, and I found my arms wrapped around her torso as I buried my face in her chest in an attempt to hide its still bright red color. She let out a quiet laugh, and gave the top of my head a few pats. “Oh, honey, don’t worry, I’m about to get you away from that charming asshole for a few hours. C’mon.”

With that, she pulled me up and I grabbed my book off of the table. Lillian had vanished somewhere in the midst of it all, not that I could blame her. Katie kept her arm around my shoulders as she began to steer me away from the table.

“Hey, Katie, did you get the card off the table?” Simon’s voice called after us, and we both turned.

“You think I’m taking us shopping for dresses for a ‘formal affair’ without that lil’ black card your father insisted we use? What kinda idiot do you take me for, Simon?”

He smiled then, offering a shrug as he stood up. “Not an idiot; just wanted to make sure. Oh, and do me one favor; could you make sure she doesn’t get something in black?”

Simon gave a little nod in my direction as he spoke; grin pulling into a slight knowing smirk. I almost opened my mouth to protest, but he clearly knew what I was probably going to go for.

“Please, you don’t even have to ask that of me when I wasn’t going to let her so much as think about it myself.”

I glanced between the two of them as they gave each other looks of approval, followed by nods of agreement. Double-teamed; I was being double-teamed.

“Wait, don’t I get some kind of say in this—“

A joint “No” resonated through the air as they cut me off together. My go-to shade of clothing was suddenly and completely off of the table.

“I’d vote yes, but I think they’ve completely vetoed my opinion on much of anything since the other night when I suggested sardines and pineapple on the pizza.” Cal shrugged.

“You’ve got no one but yourself to blame for that, honey. Now if you’ll excuse us, we have places to go and dresses to see. Don’t get y’alls’ asses kicked.” Katie gave them a small wave before she wrapped an arm around my shoulder, guiding me into the Windjammer and out to her car.

***

My assumption that Katie would take hours to find a dress was surprisingly incorrect. It took her less than half an hour, and only one store to pinpoint just which dress she wanted. What wasn’t surprising was that it was a sleek mini-dress dripping in champagne colored sequins. Katie had a flare for the bright and sparkly; this dress met all of her requirements and fit her in a way she absolutely adored.

“Imagine this with those heels we passed two stores down; oh. My. God. Yes.” She studied herself in the trifold mirror before us, a beyond pleased look on her face. The dress did suit her to a T; from the way it complimented her sun kissed skin, to the fact the undeniable and almost disco-ball like shimmer agreed with her personality and sense of style. It was definitely a very Katie dress. “Prom dress shopping took me like, two full weekends back in high school. This is… so much easier.”

“So that’s it? You’re done?” I asked skeptically. I was still having a difficult time believing it.

She glanced at me in the mirror’s reflection as I stood behind her. “I mean, I’m done with me. Not with you. That’s probably gonna be the tricky part.”

“Excuse you?” I crossed my arms, slightly offended. I considered myself an easy customer, when I had things my way. But this wasn’t going to be one of those instances. Katie had that look in her eye; the one that made me feel like a doll she was about to dress, and redress repeatedly for hours on end until she got just what she wanted.

“I’m not going to make you wear something you hate, but like, we are probably gonna butt heads a bit. So I expect this’ll take us a while, y’know? I’m gonna go change and then we’re getting right to it.” With that, she turned and walked off, satisfied grin on her face. Since I had no idea where to even begin, I sulked against the wall just outside of the changing room as I waited.

She was out soon enough with her choice of dress, muttering something about a few slight alterations as she handed off the dress to one of the associates. Afterwards, she turned to face me with a wide, almost horror-esque smile on her face.

“Oh dear god,” I muttered.

“Hoooow do you feel about pastels?”

“I think not.”

“Oh come on, there was this super cute soft pink dress just over here—“

My gaze was immediately pulled towards the monochrome black and white dresses on the far wall; namely the black ones. Katie took notice, grabbing my arm and tugging me along behind her. “No. No no no! We’ve already been over this. You’re banned from wearing black, Maggie Walton. Banned.”

I groaned as she pulled me into a plethora of racks and mannequins, all donned in soft pinks or lavenders, and frowned. “Just because I can’t wear black, doesn’t mean I have to look like some Easter Sunday puked on me. Please, have mercy, Katie.”

“Oh c’mon. Pastels aren’t that bad. This would look sooo cute on you!” She plucked a soft, sleeveless lavender dress from the rack; an odd set of sequins coating the bodice as the train let out, lengthening in the back while remaining short in the front.

“I’m pretty sure I’m too short for a mullet dress, Katie. Not to mention I’m not a fan of that many sequins. I’m not you.”

She paused for a moment, glancing at me, and then the dress. She put it back with a sigh. “Okay, okay. You’re right. No mullet dresses.”

“And maybe something not pastel?” I added hopefully.

“We look through this section first, and then if you really hate it all, we’ll try something a little…” She almost looked reluctant to so much as think the next word. “Darker. Okay?”

I could easily avoid agreeing to anything in this section, so just to humor her, I gave a nod. “Yeah, okay.”

With that, I followed behind Katie as she sifted through the various dresses, holding out one every so often only to have me shake my head. I actually uttered a very audible “hell no” as she pulled out one that was a light orange. I still detested that color, and the memories I tied to it.

She seemed more than a little disgruntled as we continued and my blatant refusals to the dresses she pulled out held steady. It got to a point where for a while, she stopped talking all together. But, finally, she broke the silence, and it had nothing to do with dresses.

“Cal told me something that’s… I don’t think we’re supposed to know. It’s kind of messed up, honestly.”

She had my interest then, and my thoughts immediately went to Lillian. I kept my voice even as I spoke while she idly flipped through more dresses. “Oh? What would that be?”

“You know this thing we’re out shopping for, right? I think James left Simon and, well, you to handle it in his stead ooooor… something. Mostly Simon.”

I blinked; mulling over just what she had told me. “What?”

“This isn’t some little party, Maggie, and all of these uppity hags and grubby old men know all about what happened with the Dreytons this winter. Don’t you think that’s gonna be a huge source of scrutiny? Maybe even some whispers and gossip at the party? Don’t you think their shitty rich bitch cult would shame them whether they showed up or not? But lord forbid they don’t even try to save face. Not that they owe these people anything, but won’t look good for Mr. Dreyton trying to get his business back on track if literally neither of them make at least an appearance. And isn’t it convenient that he just so happens to be out of town when this is going down?” She held out a soft pink thing, too strappy, just not enough fabric for my overall comfort, and I shook my head so she put it back. She continued. “But Simon isn’t. And neither are you. So guess who’s getting thrown to the wolves. It’s gonna probably suck for you a bit once they realize you’re /that/ girl, but holy shit, Maggie. Imagine how awful this is going to be for him. How many little jabs or comments about his mom or his ‘dead brother’ do you think he’s gonna have to hear that night?”

I couldn’t bring myself to say much of anything as I thought on her words; I had no doubt she was probably right. Cal had been so nosy about what was going on with the Dreytons when I’d first arrived; he’d calmed down a lot since then but, I doubted that others—especially at the anniversary celebration at the Belmond—wouldn’t be just as if not more blunt and probing with their curiosity and inquisitions about Simon, his family, and the company they had in tow for apparently the first time ever. I knew how rough the ideas of Caroline and Oliver were, I knew how awful the thought of Simon’s own demise was. There was a risk going to this potentially awful celebration would cause relived pain and misery for Simon with each prospective jab, or whisper, or mention of any of it.

I had taken up harping about how little I wanted to go, but never considered the ramifications Simon being there could have. I hadn’t even realized I had started chewing on my bottom lip. There was no way I could let Simon suffer through that by himself. I might not be able to protect him from whatever horrid things they could say, but I could make sure he wasn’t alone. My disgust with his father was growing a little, as well. If he had truly left Simon to fend for himself with this intentionally, he deserved more than just a few choice words. Just because he wasn’t as bad as Caroline Dreyton had been, just because he took me under his wing, didn’t mean he was above reproach.

“Okay, fine, you win. No pastels.”

I looked up, not realizing I’d zoned out on Katie. She had her hands on her hips, looking around the store with an almost irritated expression on her face. Pastel dresses were the last thing on my mind for those few moments.

“That aside, I’ve got a question.”

She started walking again; eyeing the dresses we passed as we went.

“Okay, what would that be?” Another topic change was more than welcome at that point. Things were getting a bit too heavy.

“If you get that flustered when Simon so much as vaguely displays any type of affection in front of others, how in the hell do y’all even fuck?”

I take that back; the topic change was absolutely not welcome.

I tripped over my own feet as her question hit; almost taking out a mannequin as I did so. She had really gone there.

“Oh my god I didn’t mean to break you—“ She turned, grabbing my arm to steady me immediately. I could feel my face colored multiple shades of red at once as I pulled away from her, shaking my head. “It’s just a genuine question, Maggie, I don’t get it!”

I wasn’t even sure how to respond to that as we stood there staring at each other; my eyes were wide, and I opened my mouth to speak a few times, but nothing came out. Was that the vibe we gave off? That we were sleeping together in the not so restful way? We hadn’t even kissed, even if the tension was there.

“Wait. Wait wait wait. Maggie. Are you… you haven’t fucked him—“ The disbelief on her face was enough, as I reached up and covered her mouth; in her surprise she was being anything but quiet and I didn’t want the entirety of the store to hear our discussion about my sex life—well. Lack thereof.

“Could you please not,” I hissed; she continued to stare, and soon moved my hand.

“You’re kidding me, aren’t you? You can’t be serious. Y’all are like, this constant aura of crackling Fuck Me tension when you’re not being adorably affectionate, god, have you seen the way you look at him—“

“Katie I swear to god this is not dress shopping.”

“Don’t try to distract me, it’s not like we’ve been getting very far with that anyways. You two seriously haven’t—oh my god are you a virgin—“

“No!” I quickly cut her off there; that was a completely inaccurate assumption. As much as I didn’t like to think about it, Darren and I had certainly had a fairly active sex life before… everything. There hadn’t been any action since then, but, given all things, I suppose that was to be expected.

Katie quieted for a moment, a slow look of realization settling onto her features. “Oh, right, you dated… that guy.”

She seemed to pick up on my discomfort, and her own probably helped pull us off the topic of Darren. She looked back at the dresses; we were free from the land of pastels, finally.

“He’s in love with you, y’know that right?”

It seemed her shifts in conversation weren’t exactly easy to manage that day. I stared at the back of her head as she pulled out a plum colored thing, and put it back immediately. “Gross. Not your color. And you’re in love with him, too.”

I opened my mouth again as she turned to face me, arms folded over her chest as she settled me with a slightly disappointed stare; one that a parent might give their child.

“And neither one of you assholes has admitted it to the other, have you?”

“Katie—“

“I swear you two are so hopeless. What is it about y’all. Y’know, back at school, he was so cold, even when he was dating someone. At least publicly. But now? Here? With you? I didn’t think he had it in him to be so… soft. The way he focuses on you; those nights I’d see you curled up with him through the crack in your door when we all knew you weren’t sleeping normally? I could never imagine Simon looking at someone the way he looks at you. I genuinely think that sometimes you’re all he sees. And that’s good; you deserve that, Maggie.”

“He… that’s not safe, Katie. I’m not safe. I’m not safe for you, I’m not safe for him, I’m not safe for anyone else—what if something happened to him, or you, because of me? It already kind of has. I don’t deserve any of this, from either of you.” As much as I wanted Simon to feel as I did, as much as I wanted the comfort and affection he and Katie afforded me, part of me still couldn’t let go of how much danger they were in because of me. Even if Darren was still out of sorts—and no one could say for certain one way or another on that at the moment—eventually things would get bad again, right? And then… and then what? Would they end up like my father and Chassie? Lillian had confirmed that his attentions seemed to have been settled on me after the last incident, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything for the future. Darren could change his mind, and redirect to a different target.

“Maggie Walton, don’t you dare start that with me.”

I blinked, glancing up at her harsh tone. There was nothing playful about the glare she gave me then. I took a little step back.

“You didn’t do this. This is not your fault. And if I have to I will beat that into your damn thick skull. I am not leaving your side. Simon is not leaving your side. That’s not how this works, Maggie. We love you, and we are not letting you deal with this on your own, or push us away because you think it’ll save us. You can’t get rid of Simon that easily, and you sure as hell won’t be getting rid of me, you got that?”

I knew they supported me, I knew they cared, and on some level, I knew they weren’t going to leave me alone. Even then, I never considered myself deserving of their love. But hearing that from her, after everything, was the reassurance I needed. They were really about all I had left, and I wasn’t sure what I would do without them.

My eyes stung a bit as I glance down, gently wiping at them with the back of my hand; the happiness of hearing what she had to say hurt, but in the good way. I didn’t flinch as she stepped forward and pulled me into a tight hug, I responded immediately and squeezed her back just as tightly. I hadn’t even realized how much I’d needed to hear her words. We stayed like that for a brief period, and she pulled back with a little smile.

“It’s going to be okay, Maggie. We’ll get through this together. You’re not alone.” She brushed some of my hair over my shoulder, pausing as her eyes settled on something behind me. She spoke after a moment, moving around my still figure as she did so. “I think I see your dress.”

My eyes still stung a bit, and I sniffled as I wiped at them again before turning to follow her. “It isn’t pastel, right?”

“Oh, honey, no. I think this might be right up your alley, color wise, and frankly, even I approve.” She gave me a grin over her shoulder, before pulling a dress off of the front of one of the racks. “You’re gonna to try this on. And you’re gonna to love it.”

Katie had been right with a lot of her assumptions that day; and the dress was no exception.