In spite of the pleading carried out by Jem and Scout, Louise left for Montgomery after their first few days of school had passed. Noticing that Scout wasn't enjoying school very much so far, Louise had been tempted to stay. When she told this to Atticus, he smiled at her and shook his head saying: "I wouldn't worry too much about it. It could always be worse."
Agreeing with him, she stopped reconsidering her decision to go home and spent one final evening with her niece and nephew. She constantly reassured them that she would be back, hoping that her promises would get the distressed looks off of their faces. Despite the fact that she seemed to outwardly ease their anxieties over her departure, she couldn't help but to continue to feel guilty about leaving them.
When she returned to Montgomery, Edie was there waiting for her. "Your Aunt Bea's sick," was the first thing she said.
Louise looked at her mother with a startled expression on her face. "What's wrong with her?"
"She's gettin' old."
"That wasn't very specific."
Edie sighed. "I don't know what to tell you," she said, almost impatiently. "She's gettin' along like your grandad."
Louise remained silent. Her Aunt Bea had always been her favorite of Edie's sisters (sometimes she liked her more than Edie), and had always been the one that Louise and her sisters would go to for anything. And just like most of the people Louise had grown to be dependent on, Bea would most likely meet her demise soon.
At least Bea was old, Louise thought to reassure herself. At least Bea had lived a full life, doing what she wanted to, rather than dropping dead in her mid-thirties. "She's not too bad, yet," Edie said, noticing the nervous look on her daughters face. "She's still talkin' and eatin' and can remember most things. Gettin' around just bothers her."
"I'll spend more time with her while I'm here." Louise said as she fiddled with her thumb nail.
"How was Maycomb?"
"It was fun," Louise said, a small smile growing. "I reckon we all had a good time."
"How was Scout's first day of school?" Edie asked.
"She hates it, Edie." Louise responded, chuckling to herself. "She's got this new teacher who told her she wasn't allowed to read anymore because she doesn't do it right."
"Doesn't do it right?" Edie asked, perplexed. "I didn't realize there was a right and wrong way to know how to read."
"That was exactly my thoughts."
"Poor baby," Edie said, clicking her tongue as they approached her house. "I'm sure she'll like it just fine soon enough."
"That's what Atticus says, he says they'll have bigger things to worry about soon." Louise responded.
"What on Earth does he mean by that?" Edie asked.
"He's got a new case," Louise explained. "It'll cause him quite the scandal, I think. There's this girl in town who's accusin' a black man of…taking advantage of her. Atticus has been assigned to defend the man."
Edie's eyes widened. "Atticus'll lose either way."
"He knows that, but he says he needs to do it." Louise shrugged. "It made sense to me."
"I wonder what Eugenia would think…" Edie said before cutting herself off.
"She would want him to do it."
"I suppose you're right." Edie said, almost as if she was talking to herself. "You hungry?"
"I'm just going to take a nap." Louise lied. As they entered the house, Louise took her bags from her mother and went towards Charlotte and Jean's old room. She noticed Libby in the other room, sitting on her bed and flipping through a magazine. Tiredly, she waved at her niece before shutting the door behind her.
Like she did the first time she had been back in Montgomery, she observed the room around her. The bedsheets that Charlotte and Jean had used when they were teenagers were still immaculately on their twin-sized beds. On Charlotte's side there were little post cards hanging on the walls that were sent to her from Big Simon while they were courting, and on Jean's side she observed copies of paintings she enjoyed. Underneath the nightstand the two sisters had once shared, there was a pile of books neatly stacked. Jean's brush still sat on their bureau, a necklace was dangling from the corner of their mirror. There was an old snapshot of all four sisters, when Harriet was probably ten, hanging in between the two beds. Sighing, she slowly opened the top drawer of Jean's side of the dresser. There wasn't much in there, an almost empty bottle of perfume, a comb, a bottle of red nail polish and two neatly folded skirts. She picked up the perfume bottle and smelled it. It smelled like Jean. Clutching the bottle, she frowned. Maybe she'll take it back to Maycomb for the children so they knew what she smelled like, or maybe she would keep it for herself. Exhaling sharply, she put the bottle back in the drawer and shut it hastily. She threw herself on Jeans bed, and took a deep smell out of the pillow case. It didn't smell like her anymore. Louise remembered sneaking in here in the early mornings to fetch Jean, even though she was still asleep. She remembered Jean's blonde hair, which contrasted sharply with Louise's brown hair, strewn over her pillow angelically. Had her hair looked that good when she died?
Wiping stubborn tears from her eyes, Louise rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling, breathing slowly. She couldn't help but to think that if Jack saw her now he'd laugh at her and call her a mess. She was a mess. Perhaps she'd been one her entire life, but Jean's death only made it worse. She wondered what Jean would think if she had seen Louise in such a state. Louise had always been the one who never let feelings consume her. She'd been the one who would rather die than look pathetic, who always criticized Charlotte for how she acted once Simon died. Now here she was, four years after her sister died, lying on her old bed crying.
It's funny how time changes things.
-o-o-o-
Despite being considered a relatively busy city, Montgomery bored Louise to tears. While Maycomb was a slow old town, she at least had playing with Jem and Scout and watching Maudie and Stephanie bicker to keep her occupied. No matter how long she stayed in Maycomb, she was considered a guest—the only thing that people in town knew was that she was Mrs. Finch's younger sister. In Montgomery, on the other hand, she was known and familiar. The girls she had grown up with in the neighborhood had turned to ladies, got married and had babies. Even at the age of thirty-five, Louise was still her eighteen-year-old self: snarky, alone, reckless and seemingly happy with her life. Every time she accompanied Harriet to a lunch or a tea or a stupid event, she knew she was being watched and judged. She lost count of how many times she was asked when she was going to calm herself down and settle.
What didn't help was the fact that Hattie seemed to agree with them. At thirty-two years old, Hattie thought she knew everything. She had been married for four years, had a job, a house, a dog and stability. Though she didn't say anything aloud, she judged her older sister for being so carefree. The general consensus among Hattie and her social circle was that if Louise knew what was good for her, she would quit acting the way she was and find someone to anchor her down and help calm her agitated soul. Louise was disgusted by it.
One evening, after Hattie and Louise had gone to stupid game of cards at one of their old neighbor's houses, they sat in Hattie's kitchen drinking coffee while Hattie's husband tended to the yard. Louise pulled a pack of cigarettes out from her dress pocket, pulled one out for herself, and offered one to Hattie who distastefully declined. "I can't smoke anymore," she said, waving the box of cigarettes away from her. "And you shouldn't either." She added hastily as Louise lit her cigarette and took a puff from it.
"Why's that?" Louise asked, exhaling slowly. Hattie glared.
"As a matter of fact, I went to the doctors last week. I'm almost the age Jean was when she died," She said softly, not looking at Louise. "So I went to get my heart checked out to see if there was anything I can do and he found out it was beatin' irregularly and I'm on some medication now. Doctor said I shouldn't drink as much coffee so I need to wean myself off of it… but anyways, I think you should seriously consider gettin' yourself checked out."
Louise looked at her sister, beginning to feel concerned. "You're okay though, right?" She asked.
Hattie shrugged. "Didn't seem too concerned, he said I was lucky I went to check. I think you should go, too."
"I'm fine," Louise said. "Nothing's botherin' me, I don't see why I need to—"
"Nothing bothered Charlotte or Jean, either." Hattie interrupted. "They seemed to be fit as fiddles and then… just go get checked."
Taking a long puff from her cigarette, Louise shook her head. "No." She said firmly, Hattie looked like she wanted to kill her.
"Why not?!" She exclaimed, slapping her hand on the table. "Daddy, Charlotte and Jean all died before they were forty. You can do something about your own heart."
"I'm fine."
"You don't know that."
"You're makin' a big deal outta nothing. I don't need you tellin' me what to do."
"Nothin'? Are you kiddin' me?"
"I'm done talkin' bout this."
"Well I'm not."
"Listen, you can go ahead and get yourself checked out and do whatever you want." Louise said, crushing her cigarette in the ashtray. "But I honestly believe if I'm meant to die of a heart attack I'll die of a damn heart attack."
Hattie looked furious. "But with medicine these days—"
"I don't want to hear it."
"You're just saying this because you don't care if you die." Hattie said.
"You're full of it."
"Just admit it, you have nothing to live for anymore."
Hattie froze and immediately looked distressed. "Lou," she said slowly, looking like she regretted what she said. Louise stood up. "I didn't mean it."
"I'm leavin'."
"I-I'm sorry."
"It's fine. I'm just tired." Louise lied. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Louise noticed that Hattie looked dreadful as she strode past her and nearly slammed the back door behind her as she left. Lighting another cigarette furiously, she stormed down the street. She had the intent of going back to Edie's, but ultimately decided against it. Stopping three doors down from Hattie's house, she climbed up the stairs to her Aunt Bea's front porch and knocked on her door, hard.
Celeste, the colored woman who had worked for Aunt Bea for as long as Louise could remember, opened the door. "Louise, honey," she said in a breathy voice (she was only a few years younger than Bea and lost her breath easily). "You look like someone's ruffled your feathers. Your Aunty's gone to sleep but I can wake her—"
"It's fine." Louise said hurriedly. "I'll come back tomorrow."
"You sure?"
"Positive." Louise said as she turned around and walked towards Edie's house. She could've gone to Addie or Sarah's house, but they were never quite useful whenever Louise needed someone. Only Bea was. Storming through the front door, Louise made Edie jump out of her chair.
"Louise what the hell's the matter?"
"Nothin', I'm making a phone call." She said as she walked to the phone.
Agitatedly, she picked up the receiver and demanded: "Long distance. Nashville, Tennessee." She tapped her foot on the ground while she waited for the next operator to pick up, and then gave her Jack Finch's address. Then, she waited.
"Finch," Jack said dully.
"What're you doin'?" She asked.
"Well, aren't you just pleasant?" He jeered. "Hello to you, too."
She sighed impatiently. "Hello, John Hale Finch, how are you?"
"I'm doing quite well, Louise—"
"What're you doing?" She asked again.
"Readin' about to feed my cat." He replied flatly.
"What're you doin' next week?"
"Workin'."
"What else?"
"Nothin', I suppose."
"Would you like me to come to Nashville?"
"What?"
"Would you mind if I came next week?" She asked.
"Reckon I don't," he said. "I can see if I can fix my schedule so you're not completely left to your own devices."
"You're a gem." She responded.
"If it took you this long to figure that out, I'm highly reconsidering our friendship."
"Goodbye, demon." She said.
"Let me know when you're comin'." He responded. "See you next week, troll."
She hung up the receiver, feeling slightly relieved.
-o-o-o-
When she had informed Edie she was going to Nashville, her mother merely rolled her eyes and said: "after twelve hours with Jack Finch you'll be fixin' to come home early." Louise had scoffed in response. Though she told Hattie that she would come back over, she rarely saw her sister in the time between their conversation in her kitchen and her leaving for Nashville. She didn't mind much. Instead, she decided that she was going to disengage from the social commitments she usually took part in and instead spent her days sulking around Bea's house drinking tea. While her aunt seemed slower and less agile than before, she was still just as attentive to Louise as she had always been. Louise decided not to tell her about the conversation she and Hattie had, figuring it would just upset her old aunt. Instead they talked about when Louise and her sisters were little, and reminisced on various different things.
After enduring another fifteen-hour train ride, Louise arrived to Nashville feeling groggy. When Jack saw her, he attempted to swing her over his shoulders, but immediately regretted it once she kicked him. "What the hell is wrong with you?" She asked, straightening out her dress.
Jack shrugged. "They've been asking me that for years, and I still don't know the answer."
He lifted her suitcase for her and promptly informed her that he had walked to meet her at the train station, but if she didn't want to walk he would call them a cab. She shook her head. "It's fine," she said. "I don't mind walkin'."
"Do you want to see anything?" He asked as they walked along the sidewalk.
She shrugged. "Do you have any recommendations?"
"Not really."
"What do you do with your life?" She asked him.
"Work, read, walk Rose, feed Rose, give Rose attention." He responded.
She looked at him with a perplexed expression on her face. "You're strange."
"We can drop your stuff off and wander around if you want." He suggested.
"That's fine."
"Or," he said, a mischievous smile on his face. "We can save the wanderin' for tomorrow and just stay at my place and drink like fishes."
"You know, I'm actually quite fine with that decision." She responded.
"Thank God." He chuckled as he messed her hair.
-o-o-o-
For being as strange as he was, Jack was a remarkably simple man. He found joy in simple pleasures such as scotch, his cat and Victorian literature. While it was cluttered with books, his apartment was otherwise neat and quaint and seemingly represented Jack's personality. When they arrived at his apartment, Jack's first order of business was putting her suitcase in his bedroom (since he only had one room, he politely allowed Louise to take his bed while he slept on the couch) and then poured them two glasses of scotch. Throwing herself on his sofa, she observed Rose Aylmer, who was sitting in the corner of the living room watching them.
"Does she always stare?" Louise asked as Jack handed her a glass and sat next to her.
"She thinks you're threatening her territory," Jack said. "She's basically marking you as a hunted woman."
"I didn't realize you were a cat psychic."
"Rose and I have a bond better than any husband and wife." He said, almost proudly. Louise scoffed and shook her head at him.
For hours they sat there drinking scotch while Jack talked about work, his cat, and the latest books he's read. When the time came to talk about Louise's trip to Maycomb the conversation changed to Jem and Scout, what they had done that summer and how both Jack and Louise thought that the children were quite funny. For a few moments they were silent, Louise looked around at her surroundings while Jack placed Rose in his lap and pet her head.
"What's the matter with you?" He asked her. Suddenly, she was looking at him. "What are you runnin' from now?"
"What the hell are you talkin' about?" She asked.
"Why did you come to see me?" He asked. "What made you run this time?"
She scoffed at him. "I've visited you plenty of times before. I wasn't runnin' then."
"Yeah, but every other time you visited me you didn't call me in a fit beforehand." He pointed out.
"I wasn't in a fit."
"You weren't exactly a bowl of peaches."
"You're full of it." She said, draining her glass.
"Hey, I'm not sayin' it's a bad thing," he told her as Rose Aylmer yawned. "You've barely been home for two years, you're bound to get restless."
"I'm not restless."
He gave her a look. She found it incredibly annoying that he always knew when something was bothering her. "Harriet said something dumb." She said, slouching deeper into the couch.
He chuckled. "Your little sister caused you to run off to Nashville."
She picked at her thumbnail, not looking at him. He paused and watched her. "What did Harriet say?"
"She said I got nothin' to live for."
"Why would she say that?"
"It all started when she told me she went to get her heart checked and the doctor said it was irregular or somethin' and gave her medicine and she told me to get checked and I told her I didn't want to." Louise said quickly.
"Why don't you want to get checked out?"
"It's useless."
"Not necessarily."
"If I'm going to die of a heart attack I'm going to die of a heart attack."
"If you monitor these things, you can prevent that."
"I feel like it'll happen either way."
"Do you wanna hear my opinion?"
"You're going to give it to me anyway, so go head."
"I think you feel guilty," he said slowly. She looked at him, confused. "But you shouldn't."
"I don't feel guilty about anything." She replied, crossing her arms.
"You feel guilty that you have the opportunity to get yourself checked out when neither of your older sisters suspected anything was wrong." He told her, making her scowl. "You feel guilty that if something is wrong and you catch it, you'll have the chance to live when Jean didn't."
Louise inhaled sharply. "That's, that's foolish." She said bitterly, shaking her head.
"Are you sad?"
"No."
"You look like you're gonna cry."
"I'm not." She hissed, though she could feel her eyes burning. "I've drank too much."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." She said, sniffing.
Jack put Rose Aylmer on the floor. The cat made a soft screeching noise and ran off to another end of the room. "Honey, come here." He said, pulling her shoulders towards him and putting her head in his lap. Looking down at her, he chuckled. "I can see down your nose."
"You're an ass."
"Why are you sad?"
"I'm just agitated."
"D'you wanna talk about something else?"
"Please."
"Well, you pick the topic."
"Why aren't you married?" She asked him. He looked down at her and smirked.
"If this is your way of inadvertently telling me you want me to marry you, I'm not interested."
"I would rather die first." She said. "I'm just curious."
"Not interested." He shrugged. "It doesn't seem appealing to me."
"You're smart, it's not all it's cracked up to be."
"So I'm taking it you'll never get married again?" He smirked.
"Hell no, I should've stuck to my original plan of spinsterhood all along."
Jack yawned. "At least you've learned your lesson."
-o-o-o-
Louise returned to Montgomery after spending nearly a week and a half with Jack. She figured if she stayed away any longer, her family would think she was running off again or something and she didn't want to hear Edie complain about her listless tendencies anymore. Jack saw her off at the train station after giving her some sort of cryptic message about her going home and reminding her that he was still waiting for her to return the book she stole from him. She had rolled her eyes, punched him in the arm, and told him to stop being weird.
Edie was originally going to meet her at the train station again, but once she arrived in Montgomery on a Saturday morning she was greeted by Hattie. "Hey," her sister said, smiling awkwardly. Louise figured that she still must've felt bad about what she had said to her.
"Where's Edie?" Louise asked tiredly.
"She's with Aunt Bea," Hattie explained. "She was havin' some trouble movin' around a bit so she went to help her."
"I see." Louise said as they started walking towards their neighborhood.
Hattie sighed and looked at Louise. "Listen," she began before Louise interrupted her.
"Don't worry about it."
Hattie smiled at her sister. "How was Nashville?"
Louise chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Alright. All we did was drink." She replied honestly.
"I'm not surprised." Hattie laughed. Suddenly, her smile faltered a little. "D'you know that Emmett got married?"
"No!" Louise said before chuckling. "I thought he was goin' to be alone forever once Jean told him she couldn't be his plaything anymore."
Hattie chuckled along with her sister. "He has kids, too. I saw 'em ridin' bikes down that hill like we used to when we were kids. It reminded me of the time you loosened Jean's handlebars so they would fly off when she was goin' down the hill."
Louise laughed. "Remember how she got all tangled up in the bike and split her knee open, and she was still able to run at full force and push me off my bike?"
"Do I remember? Why, I was so certain you two were going to kill each other I went runnin' to Aunt Bea cryin'." Hattie responded.
"And by the time Aunt Bea had come to fetch for us we had stopped fighting and were sitting on the corner eating ice cream together." Louise continued, a mischievous smile on her face.
"No one knew what to do with either of you," Hattie said before pausing. "Emmett didn't know Jean died. He recently moved back into his mama's old house with his family so he had no clue about it." She added slowly.
"Who told him?"
"I did. He asked about her."
"What did he do?"
"Lou—he cried!" Hattie exclaimed, running a hand through her hair. "It was probably the most awkward thing of my life. And then he cried some more because he thought he was makin' me upset and it turned into this big mess."
Louise stifled a laugh. "Are you kiddin' me?"
"I wish I was." Hattie responded, shaking her head. "I can never get used to how people react to her death."
"They all look at you like you're tainted or somethin'." Louise agreed, nodding. The two sisters stopped at the end of the block, where Hattie's house was.
"Mama isn't home," Hattie said. "Do you wanna come over my place? I can put some coffee on."
"I thought you couldn't drink coffee anymore."
"Oh, forget that, I might as well live a little."
"Don't you have a lunch or tea or somethin' to go to?"
"Those things exhaust the hell outta me."
"Wanna play cards?"
"Certainly." Hattie said as they climbed up the steps that led to her front door. "D'you have any cigarettes?"
"Of course I do," Louise said, chuckling as she followed her sister into her house.