Page 100 of Falling Backwards
“Not everything should just be left the way it is.Sometimes that’s stupid ’cause putting forth the smallest bit of effort can make things better.”
That hits me unexpectedly deeply.
After a second, her spine straightens and her lips press together.The glance she flicks up to my face makes me think she, too, heard a potential second meaning in her words.
Unstoppable thoughts assail me:We can get along if we try even a little bit.Staying at odds is stupid.
“I just wanted to help,” she says again, less heatedly.She slips a fingertip beneath her bangs and rubs at her scarred eyebrow.Her eyes move over my shirt, but it’s an absentminded study.
I remember seeing that eyebrow this morning when her hair was wet, and so many times long ago—as clear as ever, I can remember seeing it for the first time.
Though all these things in my head are rattling me further, I manage to match her tone.“Thanks, but it’s fine like it is.”The other potential meaning grips me tighter, forcing me to add, “It’s just a slightly messy arrangement of dishes.Nothing important.”
Many moments pass before she nods.
Then she swings her gaze to the dishwasher, pushes the top rack back in, and reaches down for the door.I step away so she can close it up.
“Ready to go?”she asks.
“Yeah.”I catch sight of my tie hanging loose around my neck.“In a minute, anyway.”
“Okay.”
She turns and walks off.While my fingers start working on my tie, I watch her go.
And I catch sight of my trash can, next to which sits a full, neatly tied bag.My fingers pause what they’re doing, because I know I didn’t have anything to do with that.
Yet it’s amusement that comes back up in me, not irritation.
“Magnolia, I swear….”
“What?”she asks from my living room.
“Did you also deal with my trash can while I wasn’t looking?”
She hesitates.
I peer over the counter-slash-bar and see her fidgeting with her purse while she paces the other room.
“Nope,” she says lightly.“I don’t know who might’ve done that and then thrown away your empty juice bottle so you wouldn’t have to.”
I resume fixing my tie, once again unable to keep from laughing a little despite it all.
The sound of her doing the same doesn’t escape me.
—
We park in the side lot at Lucent six minutes before we’re supposed to clock in.
I expect Maggie to unbuckle and exit the car in a rush, but the only thing she rushes through is saying, “I didn’t mean to seem rude,” with her natural softness.It breaks the silence we drove in while music played.
I turn off the car and unfasten my seatbelt, then settle my eyes on her.This may be the first thing either of us has said since leaving my place, but somehow I know my kitchen is what she’s talking about.
Has she been dwelling on it this whole time?She already kind of explained herself when the whole thing happened.The only thingI’vedwelled on is when I finally got the measuring cup from her; that unique embrace was fleeting, but it’s been hanging around my mind like so many other moments from our hours together.
She looks up from her lap but only meets my gaze for a second.She glues hers to the front of my shirt again.
After a breath, she’s also back to touching her eyebrow beneath her bangs.
