What We Trade Our Hearing For (a North and South Story)

24. Pretty Death

"I can't say just what I mean,

because it isn't just one thing

how many endings can you take

your smile has slowly faded away

I didn't mean to let you feel so safe,

you didn't want to let me get away"

-Modern Chemistry

John

It was one of those rare early fall days that it wasn't blistering hot, a tease of the true fall to come. John had opened the windows of his office at The Mill while he waited for Williams to appear. They had made plans to grab a drink and check-in. He was grateful to have his old friend back regularly now.

A voice from outside caught his attention. "What are you doing here? Go on! You think you're welcome around here after all you've done?" It was Williams, and he sounded angry.

John stuck his head out the window to see what was going on. He caught Nick's eye just before he slunk down the driveway. He must have been hanging out by the stairs before Williams ran him off. John hoped he hadn't been up to any sort of mischief, though he didn't think Nick would stoop that low.

"What was that all about?" He asked Williams once he came inside.

The other man shook his head. "He was just sitting on the stairs, probably waiting for you to come out, I guess. It was that Higgins fellow, the one that used to work here."

John thought it was strange that he was just sitting there instead of coming inside or at least knocking. "Did he say what he wanted?"

"Does it matter? Can't have been anything worthwhile." Williams shrugged. "Come on, I need a drink."

Sighing, John stood up, closing the account book he had been staring at for hours. He could use a drink, too, considering he had been working on the budget all day and it still wasn't coming out right. He had a meeting with his banker the next day, one he was dreading. John tried to put that all out of his mind as he followed his friend down the hall, locking The Mill behind them. 

Williams insisted on going to a club, though John wasn't exactly in the mood. "Are you ever in the mood?" Williams asked him jokingly in response. So, they went, the dark club pulsing with a life of its own. John set himself up in a corner at the far end of the bar, watching the people dance as if they hadn't a care in the world. He wished his life were so carefree. Instead, he sipped his scotch and waited until Williams told him it was time to go.

Maggie

The Hale's house was already almost tucked in for the night when there was a knock on the door. Dixie was closest to the door, so she stood up to answer it. "The Higgins boy is here to see you," she said, leading Nick into the music room where Maggie and her father were reading quietly.

"Oh, Nick! Come on in," Maggie jumped up, pulling a chair closer in so he could make himself at home.

As they settled in with some brownies Maggie had baked earlier, Nick got to the point of his visit. "I've been trying to find a job," he said sadly, "but no one around will hire me. I'm trying to lie low, not make waves, behave, all that. I wouldn't worry about it so much if it weren't for Butch's children." Maggie and her father looked surprised at that. "Oh, me and Mary have taken them in for the time being, at least until they can find a long-term foster family," he explained.

Maggie was surprised but pleased at this new development. She was worried about what would happen to the kids after their parents died. She made a mental note to check in with them soon and help in any way she could. "I have an idea in my head," Nick continued. "But I think I need your help." He was looking at Mr. Hale.