Free Deaths of Jocasta by J. M. Redmann Page A

has found a new blond twerp. You will survive, Micky, I told myself. And I would. I just didn’t want to stand around tonight watching her and her runt.
    I roamed among the trees and shadows of the yard. I sighted Rosie and Melanie sneaking off to their cabin. Don’t worry, I thought indulgently, I’ll cover for you. Hello, young lovers, wherever you are.
    I wandered over to the gazebo, wondering who I would find entwined there. Maybe Torbin and Andy, I maliciously hoped. But it was deserted, no deserving couples to intrude on. I entered, walking to the far side, then sat down on the railing, leaning my back against a supporting column. I looked over the lawn to the deepening darkness that led into the forest.
    I heard a board creek behind me, someone coming up the steps. I turned to look. A tall woman in white. I almost fell off the railing.
    “Are you all right?” Cordelia said, seeing me off balance, trying not to fall into the azalea bushes below.
    “Yeah, fine,” I answered, grabbing at the column to stop my slide bush-ward. “Not my night for balance,” I said, as I fumbled to get my rear end safely reseated on the railing. “So, how are you?” I winced at the falsely bright tone in my voice, but at least I was sitting upright again.
    “Pretty good. How’s your leg holding out?”
    “It’s fine.”
    She was carrying a bottle of champagne, which she set down. I was desperately trying to think of something to say, or better, some way to leave.
    “Is it just coincidence that you always seem to be leaving a room whenever I enter it?”
    “Has to be,” I mumbled, abashed at having been so clumsy.
    “Of course,” she said, looking at me, her eyes clear and direct. We both knew I was lying. “How are you?”
    “I’m fine,” I replied automatically.
    “No, really,” she countered.
    I didn’t know what to say, her directness caught me off guard. I sat, holding on to the railing tightly, wanting to go to her and put my arms around her.
    “Uh…I’m…” I didn’t know. The silence hung. “I did leave the room. I didn’t know what to say to you,” I admitted.
    “Well, I guess I can understand that,” she replied, turning away from me, slumping slightly from the sting my admission had to give.
    I stood up, took a step to her, then faltered, unsure of what I wanted, afraid of what she wanted.
    “It’s okay,” she said, her back still to me. “You have every right to avoid me.”
    “I don’t…I’m not avoiding…Things get complicated, don’t they?” I finished lamely.
    “I had hoped we could be friends.”
    “We can. If you want.”
    “I do want.” And she turned back to me, the half-smile again on her face.
    “Good,” I responded.
    “Champagne? I brought a bottle out here with me,” she offered.
    “No, thanks.”
    “Mind if I do?”
    “Of course not. I’ve heard via Elly that you’ve had a long week.”
    “Sometimes they all seem long,” she answered, then took a swig straight out of the bottle. “Not the best way to drink champagne.”
    Another pause. She spoke first.
    “I enjoyed watching you dance with Emma.”
    “Thanks,” I replied, then to avoid another silence, “How do you know her? Emma, I mean.”
    “All the grand old families know one another. Some social requirement or the other. I believe Grandfather Holloway was in the same fraternity as Emma’s father. I came out here when I was eighteen and sort of beginning to figure things out. I had always been fascinated by Miss Auerbach. Then Grandfather told me not to be seen with her anymore. No explanation. But I knew.”
    “And you haven’t been out here since then,” I said, a statement, not a question.
    “How did you know?”
    “I’ve been here every year since I turned eighteen. I would have noticed you.”
    “You’re very kind.”
    “Not kind. Observant.”
    “Thank you,” she said, flustered by my compliment. She took another drink of champagne.
    God, you’re beautiful, I thought, the soft