Stand By Me
Chapter Fourteen
The roof of Amy's house was easily accessible and when you had settled in the back, laid flat, to stare up at the stars, nobody could see you and it was you and it was your own little world with just the stars and the sky and the edge of winter that was freezing their fingers but who cared anyway when the night sky was that beautiful?
It was Maggie's haven.
The stars were bright, shockingly bright, brilliant lights smattering the dark blue that stretched above her and she let out her breath in a quiet sigh, the hot air that she expelled blooming white for a few seconds before fading away… okay, so that edge of winter was actually more of a big old butcher knife but, still, who cared?
"This is like some clichéd chick flick."
Maggie looked over, her neck unhappy at the first movement in a half-hour and making its opinion known, but she ignored the ache, studying Amy's profile in the darkness. They had shut off all the lights in the house before climbing up and the only illumination came from the stars stretched over them and the sliver of silver that was the only presence of the moon.
Amy looked as happy as she felt, head leaned back and eyes focused on the night sky. Her legs were crossed at the ankles, fingers laced over her stomach as she lay there, looking completely comfortable and secure in her own skin. She hadn't looked like that in months but here she was, finally, back to the way she was supposed to be.
"Clichéd chick flicks can be good, right?"
Amy simply grinned in answer and it felt right after all the months of confusion. Everything felt right and Maggie studied Amy more intently, feeling stupid for how she had first reacted to Amy's nervous announcement in the middle of their meal, the tidbit she had blurted out while Maggie had sat there and gaped.
Her reaction to that second little announcement hadn't been much better and she felt a hint of anger towards her twin at the remembrance of Frankie's face when she had blurted out just before Maggie joined Amy at the foot of the stairs that Cohen's feelings for her went above and beyond a little bit of friendship.
Maggie loved her sister, she did but that had been too cruel, too heartless and, while she felt a knot of guilt in her stomach, she wasn't going to apologize to Frankie any time soon. Dealing with Amy and dealing with the fact that she suddenly didn't even want to be in the same room with her was more important than forgiving Frankie.
That had been too cruel.
But it was all okay now, finally, for the first time in months, things made sense and she was pathetically grateful for it, grateful that Amy wasn't going to push her into anything because she had a crush… on a girl… even though she was a girl… a crush on Maggie… who was a girl…
She looked away from Amy, went back to her intense study of the night sky, feeling the awkwardness come up again and hating it, hating that it was making everything so difficult. She wanted to run to Amy and get help with everything and, hey, would you look at that, Amy was the cause of her current confusion.
She loved Amy, she just did and knew on some deep level that she always would, even when they were two little old ladies with too many cats and walkers and blue hair and that old people smell that can only be explained as an old people smell. Amy understood things that she didn't; was the only one who made things better than all she wanted to do was give in and wait for an end.
But she didn't love Amy like that, right?
The confusion was mostly resolved, mostly but remnants of it were just that, little pieces of this strange ordeal that she knew would always be there, edges of this drama remaining when she had too many cats and blue hair and used a walker and complained to little kids that when she was their age… blah, blah…
Okay, so, clearly, things weren't completely resolved, huh?
"I'm sorry."
Maggie glanced over again, feeling a touch of sadness at the look Amy was giving her, the lilt of guilt in her closest friend's voice in the late fall air. Things didn't make sense, not anymore but the thought of Amy thinking there was something wrong with herself… it was the one certain thing left for Maggie and she got a hold of like a pit bull, planted her feet and settled herself in for whatever kind of jackass came around to insist that there ever was or ever had been anything wrong with Amy Cohen.
There was nothing, nothing, wrong with Amy and she knew that as well as she knew that she was shorter than she should be and probably would always be short.
Words couldn't say it, words weren't enough and after a moment or so of trying to find some Maggie gave up and did the only thing that made sense, lifting her hand from the roof to hold it up before Amy, a silent offer. The silence stretched, just them, the stars and the hand Maggie was offering, fingertips chilled.
Amy's hand felt the same as it always had, feminine and soft, and she could feel the bones beneath her fingertips, feel the warmth of Amy's palm pressed against hers. Amy's fingertips were as cold as hers, frozen almost and she shifted her hand, effectively covering the chilled digits with hers.
It was just a touch, just two hands slipping together but it was what Maggie had been looking for, searching for since Amy had run out of her house and Maggie had realized that Frankie's little joke had been anything but. Okay, Amy liked girls and Amy liked her and was that really such a bad thing?
No… because Amy was still the best thing in her life.
They stared at each other for long moments, brown eyes meeting blue in the dim radiance on the night, stretched out on Amy's roof, cold and chilled and happier than they had been in months… Amy offered her another smile, softer and then laid her head back down, eyes closing as she relaxed all of herself except for her hand.
A few moments later Maggie echoed her movements, leaning her head back and listening to the silence that Amy gave her, savoring it, a few happy moments before she left to go back home to take care of Mom and Amy started cleaning up after Owen, who had come home half-alert. They had listened to the crashes of the massive man in silence; his swears and curses as he hit doorways and tables, upsetting the house.
It was a few moments with Amy, her Amy, who wanted nothing she was too afraid or intimidated by to give or even admit to and she closed her eyes, blocking out the stars and the sliver of the moon, focusing on the sound of her breathing with Amy's and the way that the hand on Amy's was the only part still warm as the temperature continued to dip.
Amy truly was the best thing in her life.
Bianca drummed her fingers along her bag, standing in silence, unaware of the conversation going on at her back between Myrtle and her mother. Myrtle had apparently found out about Erica's 'brush' with madness and had not been amused, especially when she realized that it had been a typical Erica Kane plot to get her way.
In this instance, to get Kendall away from Zach Slater, who was apparently the spawn of Satan and Anti-Christ, at least according to her mother and Ryan, who had dived into the conversation to support Erica's view that Zach Slater was evil, period.
On some level, Bianca was aware of the fact that she wanted to slap him around a little bit.
Wasn't he married and, hey, where was Greenlee anyway? The petite business woman was nowhere to be found and she found with an edge of gratitude that David was nowhere to be seen. She didn't think she could stand the sight of him, godfather of her baby, asking about Miranda… the baby he had helped get back in her arms.
Bianca glanced back out at the inside of the casino, studying it and eyes falling on the shape of Kendall deep in talk with JR. Kendall had dragged him to the casino, insisting that he needed to get out for a night, away from his semi-amnesiac mother and everyone else who was trying to 'help' him.
For some reason, the sight of them sitting at the bar, talking, made her angry, made something hot and hateful rise up in her, wanting to strike out at Kendall for being like that. Kendall wasn't supposed to want to go to the memorial of his baby, wasn't supposed to be grieving with JR for his son.
Kendall wasn't supposed to…
People were waiting outside and she knew full well that Maggie was out there with Jonathon and Amy, waiting to get in for the big bash. Maggie, with Jonathon and Amy… Fingers dug into the beading of her bag, clenched the fabric up in anger and hurt and she bit the inside of her cheek, hoping it would ease the feelings that were gathering with JR so close.
He had his mother back though, his mother and his sister and he wasn't alone, not like she had been… who was he to ask to hold her daughter and say good-bye? The panic she had felt when Kendall had brought him to the hospital, asking Bianca to give him just a few more moments to let her go and say good-bye.
And, just like a cosmic joke, there had been Miranda, woken from her nap and on Anita's hip and Miranda… she'd screamed for an hour when Bianca had gotten him out of the room, breaking and not letting Kendall help JR and no matter how much she tried to soothe her, tried to comfort her, Miranda had refused to be sated until she had finally slipped into sleep from simply exhaustion.
Her daughter wanted JR, she wanted JR to love her and hold her because she knew him. Her mother was just a stranger, just some woman who cuddled her now. But JR… he'd held her and loved her and rocked her to sleep at night, woken her up in the morning…
Kendall wasn't supposed to care about JR or his son… that wasn't how it was supposed to be… nothing was how it was supposed to be…