Summer Shadows

The night before the anniversary party for the Belmond was also the first night I was awoken by someone else’s nightmares for a change. Mine, had lessened, and subsided to some extent, with the revelations of the last few weeks, and Darren’s silence. It was a relief beyond words.

But on that night, after a good bit of groaning and negotiating with Katie on just when I had to be up and start prepping for the Unfortunate Evening Ahead the following day, I once again found myself curled up in bed beside Simon; sleeping better than I had in months. Sometimes he was my pillow; other times he would curl an arm around me, keeping me close as we both slept. He hardly ever woke me up, be it just shifting in the middle of the night; or when he got up early in the morning for his runs. Somehow, he always managed to maneuver out of bed without waking me, more often that not as of late bringing me food on his return. Only then would I find myself willing to crawl out of bed, hardly ever any earlier.

This instance proved a little… different. In the dead of the night, I felt my first ever jolt from him; the arm that he had under the pillow my head was resting upon provided a jerk that was enough to even cause me to stir. The other arm he had draped over me was gone, and a small groan left me as I rolled over a bit, prepared to whine about it before I fell back asleep. But what I saw then, stopped me dead in my tracks.

His eyes were wide, unfocused as he stared straight ahead, breathing nothing short of ragged. My hazy state was quickly fading as I slowly sat up, taking notice of the slight tremble in his hands.

“Simon…?” It came out a raspy little whisper as I reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm. He flinched back slightly and finally glanced in my direction, but it felt as though he wasn’t seeing me, even in the night shadows of the room I could see the terror on his face. Immediately, I retracted my touch. Something was wrong; something was very wrong. “Simon, what’s the matter—“

He shook his head, breathing far from calming down as he ran a hand through his hair, before shifting out of bed, making his way around the front of it, and towards the door. I sat in shock momentarily; only slightly uncertain as to if this was the waking world, or a dream. Regardless, as he opened the door and exited I found myself up and quickly on his heels. I didn’t dare say anything as I followed him down the darkened hall, and the stairs. He took a right at their base, and that told me more than enough. He wasn’t coming down for a cup of water, he needed out; he needed air. The alarm bells were becoming more and more clear the longer I was awake.

He only paused long enough to undo the locks on the door that led to the house’s deck and pool, I hovered a few steps back, unsure if my presence was really okay. That didn’t matter too much, though. I was worried. I had to make sure he was all right, or even just what I could do to help him.

The humidity wasn’t nearly as bad in the dead of night as I trailed behind him out of the house like a lost puppy; he kept going, past the pool and along the wooden walkway that would take us to the beach. The breeze picked up as we crossed the dunes, not a word from either of us. There was no way he hadn’t realized I was close behind at that point, my short steps in contrast to his long strides slapped rapidly along the wood. I had no reason to be quiet, or sneaky about anything.

Simon ran a hand through his hair again, not glancing back as he finally hit the beach, not missing a step as he neared the water’s edge. The ends of his sweats drug through the sand; but he didn’t seem to notice, nor care. His steps slowed as he hit the part of the coast that was still hard and wet, shoulders heaving as he took deep breaths in and out. I maintained a bit of distance, just watching him, trying to figure out what I could do, and what exactly had happened. Leaving him there alone wasn’t an option; not for me, at least.

The last few steps I took towards him were slow, deliberately so, even with his back to me. Reaching out hesitantly, I brushed my fingertips against his wrist. He didn’t flinch away this time, but he didn’t turn, either. Instead, his fingers slowly grasped for mine; I took that as a sign it was okay to approach. His gaze was fixed on the dark ocean; the barely visible waves crashing atop each other as they rolled onto the shore and pulled back out. My gaze shifted between him and the water, carefully interlacing our fingers. He gave my hand a squeeze, grip not lessening after a brief period. I could still feel a slight tremble in his hand.

“No matter how much I tell myself I didn’t have a choice, that I did what was the only option, and what I had to do, I can’t… I can’t shake this fucking guilt. I can keep it buried most of the time, not think about it, but, some nights its just… there. I can’t make it go away.” There was a slight tremor in his voice as he spoke, keeping his focus set on the black waters before us. “I killed her. I killed my own mother. I felt her die under me when we hit the concrete, I--”

I blinked; staring at Simon as the continual sound of the waves crashing filled in the silence. His grip tightened a bit, to a point it was almost painful. That didn’t matter though, the stitches had come out two days prior, and the red line in my palm a permanent but now closed up reminder of the incident. But there were other scars Simon and I both bore; ones unseen on the surface, ones that still sometimes felt as fresh as when they came to exist back in January. This was one of his; one I had no idea existed—but I should have. Either I was that oblivious, or he had kept it hidden exceptionally well. But it was there then; wide open for me to see like a fresh wound. He hadn’t come to terms with what had happened on that horrible evening; what saving me had cost him. Caroline Dreyton may have been a monster, but she was still his mother, and he had ended up killing her. Once it had sunken in, once it had really hit, how many nights had that plagued him? Kept him up? How long had he kept it bottled up, hidden from any and everyone because he had nowhere to turn?

“…Simon,” I said his name softly, turning to face him better. The slight traces of pity and concern in my tone were unmasked.

“I… I could have just, pulled her off of you, away from the window, pinned her down or knocked her out, or—“ His breathing was becoming ragged again as he went on, and his hand once again found its way into his curls, pushing them back to no avail.

“You can’t blame yourself for this, it isn’t your fault, it was the heat of the moment and you did the only thing that came to mind, you—“ I paused, reaching over to take his other hand in my own.

“She—I know she was awful, I know I had to do something because you didn’t deserve any of this, and your involvement was all my doing, I just—I killed her, Maggie, I killed my own mother—“

I had seen him in pain many times, mentally and emotionally anguished over awful revelations and betrayals, and even by my own actions. It always hurt to see Simon suffering. But I had never once witnessed him cry; not until that very moment. In the dull light of the night I could see the glassy coating over his eyes, tears welling up in the corners as he finally looked down at me. That one look seemed to rip my heart out entirely. If he had thought about it any since January, it was clear he had never let it out, let another soul see it, until that moment.

“Oh, Simon—“ I didn’t have a chance to let go of him before he beat me to the punch entirely, relaxing his grip on both of my hands before pulling me into a tight hug. My reaction was immediate, wrapping my arms around him with no intention of letting go as he buried his face into my shoulder. I could feel his ragged breathing against me as we stood there, one of my hands in his hair. “…You can let it all out, now, okay? She was your mother; nothing changes that. Nothing changes that her death was going to hurt you, even… even given the circumstances. I’m so sorry, Simon. I’m so sorry I put you in a position to where you felt you had no choice but to do that. I’m sorry I cost you—”

“Don’t—don’t you dare finish that sentence.” The edge in his shaking voice almost shocked me. “You did not cost me anything. It wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t your fault… you didn’t do anything but try to protect me. And I would do anything to protect you. Even—even that. Don’t you ever, for one second, think I regret saving you, Magnolia Walton. If I’ve done one good thing in my lifetime, that was it.”

Simon was good at shutting me up, even then, the hug he kept me in almost too tight to breathe. I didn’t move. I didn’t speak. Katie’s words, a week and a half old, hung fresh in my mind.

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

Simon cared for me; I knew that beyond the shadow of a doubt. Simon had cared enough for me, even back in January to bring about the death of his mother, and potentially his own, for my safety. And he didn’t regret it. Simon cared for me a great deal. I wasn’t going to venture and agree with her assumption that he was in love with me, even… even if…

“And you’re in love with him, too.”

I couldn’t deny that much. I was in love with him, and I had been for months. Knowing it was actually him, and having him back those last few weeks was more than I ever could have asked for. It was a second chance I couldn’t have dreamed of. I had needed that; needed his presence after the loss of my father, my home, everything. It had really helped with my recovery the last few weeks. The memory of my father still hurt, but at least with Simon I was able to focus on something else, and even with the stress of our situation, I couldn’t help but admit I was beginning to find happiness in life again. Maybe I could help him do the same, as he came to cope with the death of his mother at his own hands, and his own existence.

“No one calls me that, you know.” I broke the silence, fingers still in his hair as neither of us had yet to move.

“Calls you what?” His voice was a little muffled against my shoulder, I didn’t mind.

“Magnolia.”

There was a brief pause. “…I can not, if you prefer.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” I gave my head a little shake, glancing up at the dark, starry sky. “I… think I like how it sounds, coming from you. So it’s okay.”

Simon didn’t reply to that, slowly pulling back after a minute or so, finally. I could see a slight hint of wetness in the corners of his eyes, and I gently reached up to wipe it away. He settled his gaze on me as I did. “Thank you, for following me.”

“You’d have done the same.” I gave him a small smile, a little shiver rolling down my spine in the cool costal breeze of the night.

He took notice, gently reaching out to take my hand once more. “C’mon, lets go back to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

I wasn’t going to argue, letting him carefully tug me around to face the house, but he came to a sudden and unexpected stop. It took only a brief glance to see his attention was set dead ahead; from the corner of my eye I thought I caught sight of a shadow, but nothing was there once my gaze was actually fixed where he seemed to be looking. With a blink, I looked at him again. His brow was knitted together ever so slightly, lips pulled downwards just a bit. There was no ignoring the sudden tightening of his grip on my hand.

“…Simon?”

He didn’t react for a few seconds, but finally he gave his head a little shake, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. “Sorry, sometimes my eyes play tricks on me when I don’t have my glasses. Let’s go.”

I should have thought more of that little instance; but at the time, I didn’t. We made our way back inside after dusting the sand off of our feet, and tried our best to go back to sleep.

Both of us seemed to forget that minute happenstances like that were hardly ever ‘nothing.’

***

When Katie broke out a curling wand, I let out a groan that sounded as though I had just been informed I was desperately in need of a root canal.

“Katie, I’ve seen that video, the one where the girl literally burns her own hair off with that thing and I don’t think so.” I shook my cleaned and blow-dried hair, holding my hands up in front of me as I warily glanced between her and the hot tool. The look I received in turn was one that told me she was very much not there for my bullshit and she was absolutely going to use that damned thing on me.

“You will let me have this one thing, Maggie Walton. You will let me semi-tame those waves for one evening into something a little more… professional.” She pointed a finger at me as she spoke, and it came across like more of a motherly threat than anything.

I sighed in defeat, “You’ve gotten more than one thing; you picked the dress, you picked the shoes, and now this. I just… what if you singe my ear? Or actually burn my hair off?”

“I’m not going to burn anything on your precious little body, stop being a baby. And /you/ liked the dress.” She pointed at the vanity seat beside me. “…But I will admit the shoes were entirely my choice.”

“Everything was your choice,” I mumbled, begrudgingly plopping down. Katie had woken me—or us rather—up at ten in the morning. I was surprised she had actually held off that long. Simon had been somewhat reluctant to let me go, but Katie had thrown a pillow or too and finally tugged me—whining the whole way—out of bed. From there she had thrown a pair of flip flops at me as I grabbed my phone and charger before she pulled me down the stairs and out the door to her car, chattering my ear off the whole way. Being half asleep I couldn’t say I recalled most of what she was talking about, but, there was some mention of Belmond and ‘preparations.’ As I’d come to learn, upon dozing off in her car and waking up to her handing her keys over to the valet at Belmond, we were picking up our dresses finally and then getting ready in the Huffingtons’ suite.

“I said I wasn’t gonna burn you, but if you keep talkin’ like that I might just accidentally bump this thing into your ear.”

I shut up.

It took Katie a good while to finish my hair; as she said it was a ‘natural—but not /too/ natural curl’ she was going for. There was enough hair spray involved to make even it’s namesake musical cringe. There was no way my hair wasn’t going to feel like a metal helmet; or so I thought. It ended up being surprisingly soft; whatever she had used was absolutely professional quality. She slapped my hand away as I continued to touch it.

“Ow—“

“Don’t mess up my work.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. Begrudgingly, I let her finish. There was a beyond satisfied smile on her face when she finally stepped back. Obviously she had achieved what she had wanted to, and I was finally free of the cursed curling wand.

“I think that turned out nicely; still you, but just a bit more polished for the occasion. My work on that aspect is done. I trust you with your own makeup; have at that while I get to work on my own hair.” It almost came off as more of an order than a suggestion, but I was grateful to have free reign with my face at least. No point in ruining that.

“Yes, mother,” I huffed, glancing uncertainly around our current location. From the corner of my eye, I could see Katie flick me off as she plugged up the straightening iron she had brought with us. The Huffington’s suite had more than enough wall outlets for our every need. Katie had pulled us into the master bathroom upon our arrival earlier, and all of her work from thereon out had kept us confined to that area. My cosmetic bag was buried at the bottom of a large travel bag she had brought in with us; from what I had gathered, her and Cal were just going to be staying the night here. As for Simon and I…?

Shaking my head, I pushed that thought to the back of my mind. Or tried to. How mentally and emotionally exhausted was he going to be after dealing with the throngs of people we were destined to face later? The prospective snide remarks? The inevitable judgmental stares? He didn’t deserve any of it, but I was damned and determined to make sure he didn’t suffer through it alone.

By the time I finished with my makeup in the bathroom I presumed had once belonged to Lillian, Katie had hunted me down.

“How in the fresh hell do you ever manage to find a nude lip that actually looks natural on you? Asking for a friend.”

That got a bit of a smile from me, glancing at her in the mirror. “Most of the time I just look for the palest shade possible and pray. It doesn’t always work out, but when it does, I hold onto that color for dear life.”

“I love a good matte, but that looks really good on you; it’s softer, less dry lookin’. Probably more suited for your evening look, too. I hope it lasts.” She stepped over, picking up the tube of lipstick and examining it.

“You know when we got sushi last week and you were super impressed my lipstick didn’t budge at all?” I asked, packing up the rest of my makeup.

She blinked, holding the tube out in front of her. “Oh my god, no shit? This was the stuff? Christ on a cracker I need to grab some.”

“Your hair looks nice, by the way.”

Katie looked up at that, reaching to brush her fingers along the sleek, and perfectly straight side ponytail she had pulled her hair into. The band that held her hair was perfectly covered by a small braid of her own hair she had wrapped around it.

“Oh—thanks. Did it myself! Obviously. Uh, oh yeah. We’ve got a bit of time before we have to get dressed. I could order us a pizza, since god knows what actual food they’ll have at this thing and we didn’t eat lunch.”

“It could be something good, you know, “ I offered, turning to face her.

She wrinkled her nose. “Honey, Cal took me to the place they’re getting the catering from and dessert aside, I think the hell not. It’s one of those pompously overpriced places where you spend most of the time wondering what the hell you’re actually about to eat. We’re gonna order a pizza. Hawaiian with stuffed crust okay?”

Pizza was obviously a go, regardless of how I felt about it, so I just nodded. She probably had a point though; snails and fish eggs weren’t exactly on my list of foods I was dying to try. If pizza beforehand would give me an excuse not to bother touching potentially questionable food items, I’d take it.

“Great. That means leftovers for Cal and I after while you and Simon go do…” She gave me a once over, a wicked grin pulling at her lips before she swept out of the room. “…Just whatever y’all would do with a whole house to yourselves.”

If by that she meant cope with the prospective residual trauma the night could leave us with, I supposed she had a point.

***

Simon’s phone went off twice as he sat in traffic on the Ravenel Bridge. The stop and go pace was irksome in itself, and no help on his already heavy mood. The designated time for attendees to begin to arrive at the Belmond Charleston Place had been 45 minutes prior, but traffic—and a burning desire to not set foot in that dreaded place, had let him running behind. Not to mention the lack of sleep from the night before…

It went off a third time, and with a sigh he plucked it out of the passenger seat. Two messages from Cal; one from Katie. He was anything but surprised.

Where you at

Cal’s lack of punctuation was anything but new, and always somewhat irksome.

‘Fashionably late’ isn’t cool when you leave people hanging, asshole!

From Katie, naturally.

And finally, the second message from Cal came with an attachment. He was notorious for sending memes, and figuring this would be no different, Simon begrudgingly opened it. For once, it wasn’t some overused Internet post that greeted him. Instead, he found himself staring down at a picture of one Magnolia Walton, clad in a deep green dress with lace sleeves and trim, half turned and engaged in conversation with Katie and Isaac Weyers, who donned an overly friendly smile. Maggie seemed to have no idea the photo was even being taken. He couldn’t help but study her with a quiet fascination; the dress from just a glance suited her perfectly, it had a classic charm to it, like something out of a film from the 50’s.

A car honked its horn behind him, and he jerked his head up to see the traffic had moved forward some. With a shake of his head he moved up as well; sparing another glance down at his phone to read the message attached to the photo.

If you’re not careful someone’s going to snatch your girl up before you get here, dude

Cal had accentuated his lone sentence with an obnoxious smiley face emoji, and Simon felt nothing but irritation at… himself and Cal in that moment. Cal had constantly prodded the matter of his relationship with Maggie; and as much as Simon avoided the topic, it was impossible to straight up deny that there were very much feelings involved from both parties.

One picture wasn’t a reason to get jealous, though. Maggie could talk to whomever she pleased, she wasn’t required to stand around waiting for him to show at an event they both clearly dreaded. It wasn’t as though he was just going to abandon her there all night, either. That was his only motivation for going; knowing she would be there, probably with him if Katie and Cal wandered off to do who knows what. And that was fine; he needed that. He needed her.

Simon ran a hand through his hair as the traffic edged along; it was going too slow, and too fast at the same time. The distinct tightness of the tie and collar of his shirt helped nothing; formal affairs were miserable before; doubly so that evening. He almost wished Katie hadn’t taken Maggie with her to get ready; perhaps they could have both avoided the damned thing then. But, that wouldn’t have worked out at all. Not in the long run.

His father had asked him to go in his stead on the night he took him to the airport, the night he had returned to an empty house and a warning from Lillian as to where Maggie seemed to have vanished to. The conversation with his father had been brief, at his own hand, but nonetheless, he had agreed to go to the Belmond’s anniversary celebration. His father had faced enough; he could do this one thing for him. Even if he really didn’t want to. Even if it was destined to be nothing short of a rough time. He could handle it; for his father’s sake.

He wouldn’t be alone, either. Maggie had been there the night before, during the aftermath of what he considered one of his worst nightmares since January. God, his mother’s face plagued him some nights. It wasn’t a surprise he dreamed about the look of betrayal on her face in those last few moments; the sharp crack of her skull against the pavement and the way… the way he had felt the life leave her as the bones in George’s body had snapped and cracked. It had only happened a handful of times before then; none since Maggie had arrived at the house, broken and suffering. He didn’t mind the change of roles, her relying on him when he had relied on her so heavily during January, but the tides had shifted once more and she had yet again proven such a source of comfort when he had needed it the most. There weren’t words to properly convey just how important she was to him, and how grateful he was for her existence.

The traffic was moving at a more reasonable pace, finally, downtown itself coming into view. He cranked up the radio as the drive continued, trying to mute the heavy thoughts that seemed to want nothing more than to consume him before what he could only expect to be a stressful affair.

Molly Darcy’s was a few blocks off at one point, and god, that seemed ideal in contrast to his actual destination. Maybe after, if time and mood allowed for it. Maybe.

The traffic he hit closer to the hotel came as no surprise, and the cars once again inched along; the nicer ones he could peg as some of his fellow attendees, none of which he really cared to see beyond the three who were waiting for him already. As he pulled up to the Belmond Charleston Place, finally, he took one final deep breath before stepping out of his car, handing the keys over to the valet. Even if his nerves were a mess, this wasn’t the time to let any of that show.

His fingers went to the cuff of his sleeve as he walked in; a small nod to the woman at the reception desk. She graced him with a professional smile. “Anniversary celebration is second floor, the Grand Ballroom, Mr…”

“Dreyton.” He took a moment to reach in his breast pocket, and fish out the invitation. The woman behind the desk nodded.

“Of course, Mr. Dreyton. Will you be in need of a room for the evening? Mr. Huffington made sure we spared some rooms for the evening for those guests who felt they would perhaps be better of staying.” It was a polite way of asking if he planned on getting inebriated enough to be incapable of driving. A fair number of attendees would; Cal and Katie among them, he imagined. This wasn’t his ideal place for having a drink or twelve, all things considered.

Simon shook his head. “It won’t be necessary.”

“Of course, Mr. Dreyton. If anything changes, though, feel free to come let me know and we will set you up with a room for the night. Enjoy your evening.”

He left her with a polite smile. ‘Nice evening,’ yeah, right.

He wasn’t alone as he made his way up the grand staircase, an older gentleman he believed to be one of the forefronts of the tobacco industry ascended just ahead of him with a much younger woman on his arm. Simon had long stopped keeping track of which wife, or even what exactly their names were. It was no surprise the Huffingtons kept company with the likes of most of them. Social status was everything, after all, wasn’t it?

His fingers tugged at the sleeves of his formal jacket again as he approached the Grand Hall; it was already crowded, swimming with the old and young who had too much money, champagne glasses in hand. A few eyes settled on him with raised brows as he passed. He would deal with formalities once he found who he was looking for. The ballroom was through the doors to the left; attendees and wait staff filtered leisurely in and out. Being tall gave him an advantage when it came to looking around for his companions; admittedly it would have just been easier to text them. Presumably at least Katie and Cal still had their phones, so he could just—

“Jesus, could you have kept us waiting any longer?” Katie’s all to familiar voice caught his attention, and he quickly looked to his right. She already had her own champagne glass; one arm crossed as she walked over to him, the sequins on every little inch of her dress. He couldn’t help but let out a slight sigh of relief; if she was here, the others must be nearby.

“Glad to see you, too. Enjoying yourself?”

She held up the mostly empty glass of champagne, giving it the smallest of shakes. “I will be soon enough. God these people are stuffy. Anyways, I was beginning to think you weren’t gonna show. And so was… Someone else.”

Katie’s eyes shifted to their right; and just inside the ballroom. The chandeliers that lined the ceiling were ever an impressive sight; but that wasn’t what she was looking towards. He could see Cal with a small group of people, a strangely polite smile on his face as he listened and nodded to what the older man was saying; and at his side? At Cal’s side was Simon’s only true motivation for being there. Through the shifting crowd he caught glimpses of her, dark curls cascading over her shoulders as she gave the man they were engaged with her full attention.

“Given how sheepish she can come off and how much she was dreading this, you’d be surprised how well she’s handling all of it; especially when it comes to conversing with the older people. They love her,” Katie muttered at his side, taking a little sip of her champagne. “I asked her how she did it. You know what she told me? ‘Plenty of practice at the funeral home.’”

Of course; that did make some sense to him. He had somehow forgotten that she had experience with dealing with people, on a different type of level. His shoulders relaxed a little as he dropped his hands into his pockets; he had been so worried he was pulling her into a situation that would be too much for her to handle; but from at glance at least, she was absolutely capable of holding her own. Simon couldn’t help but focus on her with unabashed fascination. He didn’t even notice the blatant side-eye Katie had settled him with.

“I know she looks stunning, but are you gonna just gawk at the girl from afar or are you gonna go put her mind at ease and let her know you’re here, Romeo.”

Her words quickly snapped him back to attention, and for a change he gave her a brief but caught off guard look.

She grinned. “Gotcha. By the way, I’ll be staying here with Cal tonight. I assumed you’d be taking Maggie home when this is all over. Y’all will have that big, empty house all to yourselves and maybe one of you will finally act on what everyone else sees between you. Oh, Cal’s mom is over there, see you!”

Katie was good at not letting anyone get a word out when she felt as though she deserved the final say, and her quick retreat into the crowd was no surprise. She had left him begrudgingly flabbergasted. Obviously her and Cal had spent their fair share of time discussing his and Maggie’s… situation.

Simon scoffed a bit; giving a shake of his head as he glanced in the direction he had seen Cal and Maggie a few moments before. This time, he was met by a pair of blue-gray eyes, staring back at him. There was no one in the world who looked at him the way she did; almost like she was seeing him for the first time every time their eyes met. And that… that was everything. She was everything.

He found himself moving forward then, slipping through the crowd with a growing smile on his face. He was at her side in what felt like no time, gently reaching down to brush a few of the curls over her shoulder. Even with heels, he still towered over her, and he took a moment to fully admire just how she looked that evening. The forest green of the dress complimented her fair skin exceptionally well, lace off the shoulder sleeves and the a-line dress style absolutely from another decade, and absolutely her. He wanted to kiss her right then and there; he had wanted that for a long time, though. Bringing that type of attention to her in a place like this, seemed unfair though, and part of him did not want to share that moment—if and when it finally came—with anyone else.

Instead, Simon leaned in close enough to place a soft kiss on her temple before he spoke. “Magnolia Walton, I am so very sorry I kept you waiting.”