It hardly seemed fair.
But back to Magnolia. Maggie. Mags. She was my new world. And she was not Company. She would never be Company. That gave me hope. And being with her—and seeing McKay and Adam dote all over her, and Donovan would come, and then he would dote on her too—that made things a little better.
For a little while.
The holidays were fun that year. Very fun. McKay always went out of his way to make sure we had nice holidays. He cooked Thanksgiving dinner and Adam and I would bake frozen pies. We tried to make them from scratch one year, but everyone agreed that the frozen ones came out better. So that’s what we did from then on.
And most years it was nice enough to eat Thanksgiving dinner outside under the pavilion. Adam would make a fire in the fireplace and watch football, and Donovan was usually there. He and I would play cards. And McKay would make us all clean up the dishes afterward because he was the cook. But he helped anyway. So all four of us would be in the kitchen washing and drying dishes and putting things away.
And then the house would go dark and we’d all hang out on the couch and watch TV. Usually an old horror film.
But Maggie’s first Thanksgiving was even better. I decided to cook instead of McKay. I figured it was time to learn some domestic things. McKay couldn’t always be there to take care of me. Besides, he had carved out a place in the garden for a playset for Maggie. He was working on that the first year. And let me tell you, it was something else. A big square of garden and hedges were ripped up to make room. McKay built another pavilion over it with a big ol’ skylight so future Maggie could play outside in the rain if she wanted, but still have a big patch of sun when it was nice out. And the play set was no ordinary play set. It was almost like a treehouse. There were two slides, and a swing set with a baby swing and three regular swings. It even had a little kid climbing wall and a rope bridge.
I swear. Those hands of McKay’s could make anything.
Nathan St. James didn’t even come home for Thanksgiving that first year.
I thought, OK. His grandfather was dead. And winter break was coming up and that was a long one, so for sure he’d be home for Maggie’s first Christmas.
But he didn’t come.
And there was this missing piece inside me after that. Like… he was never there. Like I had lost something and I was desperate to find it again.
I tried to put it out of my mind. I did some odd jobs on the side. Kept busy.
But it really messed with my head.
McKay and Adam liked Christmas. They were like little boys. We didn’t buy each other a lot of presents, but we always had presents. McKay always made me something. He made me a dollhouse that first year. I was maybe a little old for it since I was ten and half. But I liked it anyway. And played with it for a few years, at least. He made Adam a knife. A fucking knife. Like forged that thing in flames out in a special fire stove thing behind the shed. And it was a nice one too.
He made Maggie a rocking horse for her first Christmas. She was six months old by that time. She could sit on it and rock a little if we held her.
It was special. And I was happy. But I really did expect Nathan to come home and see us. And he didn’t.
After the holidays were over, I told Adam I wanted to go back to work. He said no, of course. That I had a job and that job was called being a mother. But it wasn’t enough for me. It should’ve been. I realize that. It just wasn’t.
But I didn’t pester him about it because once Adam makes up his mind his mind is made up. It’s always been that way.
But I had a mind of my own as well.
I had my truck. I could go into any town I wanted to shop or whatever. I did that sometimes. I’d put Maggie in her seat and we’d drive all over the place while McKay and Adam were off doing things I used to do, but was no longer allowed to.
And that was when I first saw Angelica again. I was nearly twenty at the time. Maggie was getting big and was about to turn two that summer. She was making good use of that play set McKay had built her. And everyone was home during Easter weekend.
Everyone but Nathan, that is.
I slipped out of the house when Maggie was napping and McKay and Adam were watching TV, and I was walking in the woods like I used to and there she was.
Just… there she was. One minute nothing. Then, poof. Angelica was in the woods with me. Like she came out of nowhere.
And she started telling me all about these jobs she was doing. I was stunned, to say the least. Because I had thought that Nick had killed her years before. But then I tapped my head and remembered… oh, that was right. Nick didn’t kill her. Adam said something about her going to live with someone like him. Someone who could raise her and take care of her until she was old enough to do it herself.
She said, “Indie. Come here. I have a job for you.” And then she whispered all the details into my ear.
And I smiled.
It was like I had just woken up from a long dream.
Like I was back.
Right before she left, she put her finger to her lips and whispered, “Shhhh. Don’t tell no one, Indie.”
So I didn’t.
PART THREE - THROUGH THE GATE
And here we are. The point of no return. You opened your eyes when you opened the door. And even though you haven’t passed through yet, it’s inevitable now.
You know what’s behind you. It’s all very familiar and safe. But people who feel safe often get giddy with stupidity.
They forget why those walls were built in the first place. They forget why the gate was locked. They forget what’s waiting for them on the other side.
And they don’t care anymore. They can’t stand one more second of safety. They need new. They need different. They need anything else but same.
Something has to give.
CHAPTER NINETEEN - DONOVAN
INTERVIEW WITH INDIE – age 19.9
SESSION #178
DONOVAN: OK, Indie. What the actual fuck? You’ve been missing for two weeks and—
INDIE: I already told you. I don’t want to talk about it.
I know you don’t want to talk about it. You’ve made that very clear. But I have been equally as clear that we will not leave this room until you tell me where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing.
…
I’m not fucking around, Indie. I will lock you in this room until you talk.
I’ll find a way out.
I will drug you. And then no, sweetie. You will not find a way out. I will keep you here for as long as I need to. Because you cannot go missing for two weeks with no explanation.
I’m a grown-up, Donovan. I can do whatever the fuck I want.
You have a child, Indie. If you walk away from her, that’s called abandonment. And we won’t put up with it.
Is that a threat?
Yeah. That’s a fuckin’ threat all right. I have serious concerns about your mental state and your ability to take care of Maggie right now.
I’m her mother, Donovan. You’re no one to her. None of you guys can stop me from picking her up, walking away, and taking her with me.