In Moonlight and Memories [Volume 3] by Julie Ann Walker

Author:Julie Ann Walker [Walker, Julie Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Julie Ann Walker
Published: 2019-04-08T04:00:00+00:00

Where the black water rolls and the muskrat strolls

That’s where you’ll find my baby

She’s a Cajun queen with a young girl’s dream

Yeah, that’s my baby

She can cast a spell, make your life heaven or hell

Ain’t no one quite like my baby

She hides her secrets in her soul, loving her has made me a fool

Time to let go of my baby.

The last line has my breath hitching. What the fuck?

Am I missing something? Did I misread that look in Maggie’s eye? Are they screwing up The Goddamned Plan?

I stare through the window at the backs of their heads, in silhouette thanks to the starlight, and try to catch a snippet of conversation or read their body language. But they’re aggravatingly silent. Which isn’t like them. Not at all.

They are screwing up The Plan. And the vibes I’ve been picking up all night, the ones that gave me hope they’d finally figured out their shit, were obviously all off. They’ve just been putting on a good face for my sake.

Fuck! Damn! Piss! And shit!

Then again…maybe things have gone sideways because Maggie doesn’t know how Luc feels. Maybe she should be told, or…

No. Coming out and telling her would be too overt. And, of course, it would reveal too much about my ultimate goal. What to do? What to do?

An idea suddenly occurs, proving my brain isn’t completely broken. At least not yet.

Placing the notebook on top of the binder, I leave it open to the poem and quickly rejoin them on the porch.

“I saw Luc’s binder full of letters in there,” I say casually as I resume my seat. “Why don’t you grab it and read us a few, Maggie? You don’t mind, do you, Luc?”

He slides me a curious glance. “I don’t mind. They’re Maggie May’s words. If she wants to share ’em, she can.”

“What do you say?” I ask her. “It’ll be like a blast from the past.”

She shakes her head. “I wrote those to Luc, and I—”

“If they’re anything like mine, they’re not all personal,” I interrupt. “Some are like journal entries, just an accounting of your day. You can choose which ones to read aloud.” When she continues to hesitate, I pull out the big guns. “Come on. It’ll take my mind off Rick.”

“You don’t play fair,” she accuses with a frown.

I make sure my smile is devilish, hoping she doesn’t notice that it’s brittle around the edges and never reaches my eyes. “You’re only now realizing this?” I ask.

Wind whistles through her lips like air being released from a balloon. Then she capitulates by saying, “Fine.”

When she disappears inside, it takes everything I have not to turn and watch her through the window. Turn to see if she reads the poem or simply shoves the journal aside.

I count the seconds inside my head. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three. Four. Five. All the way up to twenty. And then she’s back with the binder in hand. Was twenty seconds enough time for her to read it?

I study her face, but it’s too dark to see what’s in her eyes.

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