781. Chapter 781

She went over it and over it and over it in her head for years and years.

Had she made it up in her head?

She would lay in bed at night - the crappy futon bed that her aunt let her sleep on that was always too cold and too hard and too lonely - and stare at the ceiling and wonder.

Hadn’t she seen Eliza’s eyes drift down to her lips, so many damn times?

When they stole Eliza’s older brother’s cigarettes together, hadn’t Eliza always been the one to suggest they shotgun the smoke, bringing their lips tantalizingly close, all but kissing without having to call it that?

Hadn’t Eliza been the one to run her hand under Maggie’s sweater, claiming her hands were cold, under their shared blankets all those nights, during all those horror movies that she knew Eliza hated, but always said she wanted to watch, because those were the kinds of movies that could best rationalize that kind of snuggling, that kind of protective closeness?

Hadn’t Eliza always insisted they share the bed, instead of letting Maggie sleep on the couch when she stayed over?

Maggie thought and she replayed and she thought and she replayed.

She came out of it swearing she’d been crazy.

Swearing she’d been making it all up.

That of course, the girl who went on to be homecoming queen and prom queen and cheerlead captain and Straight Girl Extraordinaire hadn’t actually wanted her. Hadn’t actually given her signs, hadn’t actually been trying to tell her since junior high that she wanted Maggie to lay her down underneath the bleachers and show her things all the boys used to brag about doing to their girlfriends.

Maggie was just crazy. Just projecting. Just manipulating the innocent love of her best friend, perverting it into something twisted and wrong and sick.

That’s what everyone said, anyway.

Everyone.

Everyone.

So much so that Maggie had started to believe that herself.

So when it gets to Maggie through the grapevine - all those years and years and years later - that their old chemistry teacher had died, it doesn’t occur to her to worry about seeing Eliza Wilkie at the funeral.

Because of course she’s going to the funeral.

Growing up in a town like that, it’d be the height of disrespect not to. Especially since he’d been the only teacher who ever really liked her.

He’d never said much to her. But he let her survive lunch periods in the chemistry classroom, alone with her dry sandwiches while he graded his papers. He let her listen to his old radio, to whatever station she wanted. He sometimes brought her an orange, from his wife.

They never really talked, not really. He didn’t ask her about her parents or her aunt or the vicious talk whipping around the school. It hadn’t been his way.

But his classroom had been safe for her.

Of course she was going to his funeral.

And of course she was bringing her fiancee.

“I’d love to see where you grew up, babe. And of course I want to be there for you at the funeral. But are you sure? That it’s not more trouble than it’s worth?”

“No,” she insisted. “He would’ve wanted me there. And if he would’ve wanted me there, he would’ve wanted the woman I love there. He wouldn’t have cared. And if he wouldn’t, everyone else can deal.”

Her old teacher’s wife was the only one to welcome Maggie, to hug Alex, to congratulate them on the upcoming wedding.

Everyone else - her parents included, her aunt included, her cousins and her old classmates and her old teachers and the guy who owned the grocery store who told her she couldn’t work there, bagging customers produce, after her parents kicked her out and the rumors started - everyone else gave her a distant handshake or nothing at all.

Mostly, nothing at all.

Just whispers and horrid stares and tsks and muttered curses.

She held Alex’s hand and she set her jaw and she paid her respects, and she focused on getting the very next flight out, showing Alex the sights be damned.

But Eliza Wilkie had other plans.

“Maggie Sawyer,” she called out from behind, and Maggie jumped, recognizing the lilt after all those years. She’d had her eye out for Eliza, the whole time, but hadn’t seen her. Hearing her, now, turned her stomach around.

Alex knew, immediately. Alex squeezed her hand, immediately.

“Wilkes,” Maggie turned around, forcing a half smile onto her face, because Eliza hadn’t had to call after her like that, and maybe enough time had passed, and maybe she’d grown, and maybe -

“What the hell are you doing back here? And with your - with - how? How could you -”

She shot Alex a look and grabbed Maggie’s arm, tugging her away. Alex’s spine stiffened, but Maggie shook her head. It was fine, it was fine, she could take care of herself, it was fine, but god, please don’t go far.

“You realize that they were all just rumors, when we were kids? But now, you’re parading this… woman around, and you’re just confirming every vicious thing this town every thought?”

“Hello to you too, ‘Liza. Good to see you too, ‘Liza. I’ve been fine, how about -”

“Cut the crap, Maggie. You realize that you confirming all those rumors are just going to make them think the same about me, don’t you? How could you do this to me, how could you-”

“Okay, wait, no no no. My marriage to the most gorgeous, kindest, smartest woman I’ve ever known? Surprisingly, has nothing to do with you. And I’m pretty sure our old chem teacher dying also had nothing to do with you, but I’m a detective now, so if there’s anything you wanna fess up to, I’m all ears.”

“Christ, is everything still a joke to you?”

“You never were.” It was the most honest thing Maggie had ever said in that town. The most raw, the most vulnerable, since she was fourteen years old. “You were never a joke to me. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’ve stayed stuck in a place where you can’t be happy for someone else’s happiness. Someone you used to love. We grew up together, god, Eliza. And you can’t be happy that I’m happy. And that’s fine. I don’t need your happiness. But I hope you find your own, I really do.”

Steam was practically coming out of Eliza’s ears, but Maggie couldn’t fix it. She never could have, and now, she realized after so many years, finally? It wasn’t her job to.

“But look, unless something really fundamental has changed about etiquette here, funerals aren’t the best places to pick public fights. Or maybe they’ve always been exactly the best places for that. But that’s all I came here for. Okay? I mourned, you mourned. We paid respects. I’m going now. I’m not going to stand here and let you make me fourteen again. Alright? Goodbye, Eliza.”

She turned away before her first best friend and her first broken heart had the chance to say anything. She turned away while she still had the strength to move.

She caught hold of Alex’s hand and she took the keys to the car they’d rented and she took the long, long, long way ‘round back to their motel.

She didn’t cry until they got there, until they locked the door behind them.

She didn’t weep until she was in Alex’s arms.

But as soon as she was, she let herself sob.

“I heard what you said to her, you know,” Alex murmured after a long while of kissing Maggie’s face, her knuckles, her hair, her tears. “I’m so proud of you, babe. I’m so proud of you, and I love you so damn much.”

She didn’t say anything else because she didn’t have to. Because nothing else mattered.

Nothing else mattered, and nothing else ever would.