Little Blackbird (5 page)

“Mama doesn’t like living in town. She wants to live closer to nature.”

“I guess I can understand that, but why the tiny house? Wait, that didn’t come out right–”

Kate jerked her head toward him, narrowing her eyes. “It came out rudely,” she said. “Is that what you were aiming for? Not everyone can or
wants
to live in a mansion like Honeysuckle Hollow.”

Kate would
never
admit that she’d always wanted to see the inside of the Hamiltons’ Queen Anne-style home and walk through their garden. Evan had been in the mansion several times and always spoke of it as though it was a museum full of antiques and shiny floors. The past spring Kate’s daddy helped build a gazebo in the Hamiltons’ backyard, which he said was immaculate and bursting with colorful flowers.

Geoffrey chuckled. “No, cool it. You make me nervous. Let me restate it.”

Kate shook her head. “
I
make
you
nervous? How is that possible?”

“You’re just so
different
from other girls. You’re so…honest.”

“And other girls lie?”

Geoffrey shook his head. “Nah, not exactly. They’re busy trying to make sure everything they say and do is perfect and classy and proper. And you say whatever you want.”

Kate’s shoulders sagged. She looked toward the river. “And that means I’m not perfect or classy or proper?”
Add more to the list of why it’s no good to be me.

“No, now, you’re taking my words and twisting them all around. What I’m trying to say is that I like it. I like that you talk to me and it doesn’t seem fake.”

“Believe me, if I could
fake
anything, I wouldn’t choose this.”

Geoffrey laughed again, and she turned to look at him, at the way his eyes closed and his nose scrunched up. She smiled.

“See, that’s what I mean. You don’t talk like other girls. I bet your biggest news isn’t about your hair or your new dress or what Denise Maloney is wearing.”

“Why would my biggest news be about Denise Maloney’s clothes?” she asked.

“That’s my point.” He picked up a river-washed pebble and tossed it into the water.

The moon’s reflection burst apart into crystals of light, sending messages up to the sky. Slowly, the moon’s light rippled across the water and put itself back together.

“To answer your question,” Kate said, “my mama doesn’t prize material possessions. She doesn’t care about
things
. She loves nature and people and plants and animals. That’s what matters to her. She’s never wanted a big house full of breakable stuff to stare at or dust. We like our cottage out here. We have enough space for us. And my daddy says he wouldn’t care even if they lived in a box as long as he could be with Mama.”

Geoffrey fell silent for so long that Kate turned around to look at him. His gaze was cast far into the trees.

“My dad would probably be fine if my mom lived in a separate house.”

“Why?”

“Have you met my mom?”

Kate shook her head. “Not directly.”

“She’s difficult. Demanding too.” He circled his forefingers around and around each other. “She’s wound way too tight, like a spring ready to blast out of here.”

“And your daddy?” Kate asked.

“A perfectionist all the way. I’m not sure he’s ever stepped out of line in his life. That’s probably why we—me and my brothers—are always pushing
way
past the boundaries. Well, except Matthias. He’s the good son.”

“And you’re not?”

“I dunno,” he said with a slow smile. “I’ll let you decide.”

Her fingertips tingled, and the prickle spread up her arms, searing her skin as though she’d been in the sunlight too long. Deciding whether or not Geoffrey was a good son would require her to spend more time with him, to get to know him, to decide whether or not he was safe, whether or not she could trust herself around him.

He must have sensed her hesitation because when he spoke again, his voice sounded urgent, like one in need of a quick fix, one in need of reassurance.

“Can I see you again?” he asked.

“I can’t keep sneaking out like this. Sooner or later my mama is gonna find out.”

“How? She’s asleep.”

Kate pulled her fingers through her hair. “You don’t know her, so you’ll have to trust me. She’ll
know
.”
Because if I keep rattling the dishes and trembling like an autumn leaf, she’s going to see right through me.

“My parents are going up to the lake for the weekend,” Geoffrey said, leaning forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “Dad is meeting a medical school friend up there. Why don’t you come over?”

The crickets stopped chirping, and the forest fell silent. Kate turned her face toward the river because she couldn’t look at him.

“To your house?”
What did that
mean
? Was he wanting to have her at his house for an afternoon of tea and conversations about the weather, or was he talking about something darker, after sunset, moments that would be even more improper than their late-night meetings?

“Maybe Saturday afternoon,” he said.

Kate exhaled, and the river rippled away from her. “I doubt my parents would let me come over to your house without your parents being there.”

“My brothers will be home.”

“That’s not helping.”

“They could be chaperones.”

Kate scoffed. “After you’ve just admitted that y’all are always pushing the boundaries?”

“Not Matthias,” he said.

When she turned to finally look at him, he was grinning at her like Wonderland’s Cheshire Cat.

“A house full of young men and me is hardly appropriate. I don’t know what kind of girl you think–”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, “finish that sentence. I only want to see you. Let me think…wait, how about you say you’re going to Martha Lee’s or Charlotte LaRue’s? Martha’s your age, and I’ve known Charlotte forever. They’re friends of mine. Nice girls. They wouldn’t care if you used them in secret.”

“You want me to
lie
to my parents?” Kate asked.

It wasn’t as though she’d never lied, but those were little lies, insignificant omissions, such as forgetting to put the lid on the flour canister and denying it or saying she liked her clothes just fine when all the other girls wore fashionable outfits and lipstick the color of poppies.

“You never push the boundaries? You’re the good daughter then?” he asked. The moon turned his face silvery and shadows hollowed his eyes and cheeks.

“I’m the
only
daughter.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

No, it doesn’t
.

O
N SATURDAY MORNINGS, Kate worked in the yard. Her first task was to clean out the weeds from the flowerbeds. She dressed in a ratty pair of shorts and a faded green button down, and she pulled her hair back into a ponytail.

She still hadn’t decided if she was going to try to sneak over to Geoffrey’s house. She’d tried weighing the cons against the pros, but she didn’t have a clear answer. Was Geoffrey worth lying for? She didn’t know. How
could
she? She barely knew him, and she barely understood the rebellious, almost impulsive, temptation to go against the rules whenever he was around.

“Stop it,” Kate demanded as she pulled weeds among the
Echinacea purpurea
and
dahlia
surrounding the house. The purple and pink buds burst into full bloom and leaned toward her every time she came near one of the plants. Even dying blooms perked up and regained vivacity and color.

Her daddy looked over at her from across the yard. He stood tall and broad, looking like a Scottish Paul Bunyan with his dark hair and beard. Kate’s grandparents had emigrated from Scotland after their third child was born, and her daddy was the first American-born son. Their family had ended up near Mystic Water and had stayed in the area for more than fifty years. When her daddy was sleepy or angry, his accent would revert back to the strong lilt of his parents’, and Kate loved to hear it.

Kate knew fragments of the story about how her parents met. Most of the time all her daddy would say was that her mama was the prettiest girl he had ever seen, and he knew she was the one he would marry. Her mama had to be convinced to marry a Scottish-American because she always assumed she’d marry someone from her Cherokee tribe. Somehow being from two different worlds worked for them, and Kate couldn’t imagine anyone else being more suited for each other. But the two different worlds didn’t work as well for Kate, not like it had for Evan either. Kate didn’t quite fit anywhere. She was a mutt—a Scottish-American-Cherokee.

Her daddy had been working on digging up a tree stump all morning. Kate tried to smile as she lifted her trowel in a pathetic sort of wave.

She scowled at the flowers and lowered her voice, speaking through gritted teeth, and saying, “Are you
trying
to give me away?” The blooms nodded their vibrant heads in the breeze. “I ought to chop off your heads like the Queen of Hearts.”

Kate rocked back on her heels and thought of Geoffrey and of the deceptive plan he’d come up with for today
if
she decided to meet him. He would call her on the phone at noon. If she answered, he would know she wanted to see him. She could pretend he was Martha Lee asking for her to come over. Kate would then ride her bike far enough up the road not to be seen as she stashed it in the woods, and then he’d pick her up in a car and take her home with him. It all sounded so
devious
.

She imagined what it would be like riding in a car with him. Would the windows be rolled down to let in the summer wind? Would he play the radio so loud they wouldn’t be able to talk to each other? Would he rest his hand in between the seats so that—
Stop it!

Kate was startled by her own angry inner voice. If she kept thinking like that, she might as well mail her heart to Geoffrey in a box and say, “Do what you will.” She slouched and patted her trowel against the ground. She
had
always wanted to see the inside of Honeysuckle Hollow, though, and there was the garden to consider too. Maybe one visit was worth telling a lie this time. Kate looked up when she heard footsteps approaching.

“Ready for lunch?” her daddy asked.

Kate blocked the sun with her hand and looked up at him.
Not really. I doubt I could eat anything if I tried.
“Sure.”

“You’re doing a great job with this bed. Those flowers are gorgeous. Look at all those blooms.”

Kate glared at the Echinacea and dahlias.
Traitors. Trying to draw attention to me, feeding off my energy.
“Mama’s flowers always do well.”
Good thing she’s not here to notice.

Her daddy tugged her ponytail. “Give yourself some credit. You work hard out here too. Now what should we eat?”

Kate stood, brushed the dirt from her knees, and stabbed her trowel into the soil. She followed him inside the cottage. “Isn’t Mama coming home for lunch?”

He shook his head. “She’s been delayed at Mrs. Ballister’s. I think the poor old lady is worse than your mom imagined. It might take her into the afternoon.”

Kate’s pulse quickened. Her mama wouldn’t be there when Geoffrey called. She wouldn’t be able to see deceit making Kate’s nose twitch or her ears itch. Kate pulled down the canister of dried lavender and a teacup. After she filled the kettle with water and turned on the stove, she opened the refrigerator.

“We could have something easy, like turkey sandwiches, or I could warm up last night’s chicken and vegetables.”

“Is there any more of that peanut butter pie in there? We could have
that
for lunch.”

Kate’s eyebrows rose, and she glanced toward the table where her daddy sat.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. You look just like your mom.”

Kate smiled. “I won’t tell.”

Her daddy’s lips quivered at the corners before a smile stretched across his face. “We’ll have to swear on it.”

“Daddy, you know I’m not allowed to swear.”

He winked at her. “You cut the pie. I’ll grab the plates and forks.”

Kate glanced at the clock just as the minute hand clicked into place on the twelve. The kettle whistled, the phone rang, and Kate nearly bungled the pie. She grabbed the kettle, turned off the burner, slipped the pie onto the table, and inhaled. Then she grabbed the phone and gripped it in her hand, turning her knuckles white.

“Muir residence.”

“Hi,” Geoffrey said. “It’s me, Miss Kate.”

This is it. Be a liar or be a good daughter.
She swallowed and looked at her daddy. He watched her expectantly.

She closed her eyes. “Hey, Martha. How are you?”

When Geoffrey spoke, his excitement crackled through the phone line. “You’re coming over? Can I pick you up in half an hour?”

“Can you hold please while I ask?” Kate pressed the receiver to her chest until she realized that her heart pounded so loud that Geoffrey could probably hear it over the line. She moved the phone behind her back and toyed with the cord. “Daddy, do you care if I go over to Martha Lee’s house this afternoon?”