Winnowing (A Novella)

Fireflies

I wanted to see her before October. I wanted to show her the fireflies one last time before I go. I gave the Cartier another glance; it was almost eight. If she were going to come, she’d be on time. I had never known her to be late for anything. Except once, for a violin competition and her Mom sprained an ankle an hour beforehand and needed to be taken to the hospital. When Lily finally arrived at the hall with her Dad, the instructor asked why she didn’t stay at the hospital. As her accompanist that day, I remembered her look of frustration, guilt, and anger. It was one of those few times I ever saw Lily so expressive.

7:50. I leaned back against the dirty park bench my own mother always told me to avoid and tried not to think about the purchase I made an hour ago. The box lay in an overlarge bag next to me. I resisted the temptation to throw it away. 7:50 still. A bold squirrel came close enough for me to count its whiskers, and I was reminded of a time when we used to make leaf piles and I’d crinkle maple over Joanne’s hair. Taking out my phone, I scanned the texts we exchanged since yesterday.

When are you going to tell her the truth? She sent that one an hour before Erik called. She wouldn’t have known that my half-brother had asked the same thing about Joanne instead of Lily. My lips curled. Erik never really understood me. I was eighteen and already convinced I was in love with Lily when he showed up with the mother who abandoned me one month prior. “Your half-brother.” She said shortly before walking past me to the man who still loved her. Hating the fact I couldn’t tell her to get out, that this wasn’t her house anymore, I merely stared at the young man who shared father’s weak chin and thin mouth. I didn’t say a word and he remained equally speechless, but there was curiosity in his gaze while I was certain my eyes held nothing but spite.

I’m sorry about tonight. 1:02. Joanne had sent that one after the dinner party, after midnight because her conscious wouldn’t let her sleep. And despite the sting of her slap, her apology would be genuine. Joanne never did anything half-heartedly. She loved and hated with intensity. The only thing redeeming about her was that unlike Lily, she wasn’t one to hold on to grudges, regrets, and impossible things. She was more realistic than that. I shuffled my feet and breathed into my naked hands. It was getting colder. 7:52.

Why? You have nothing to be sorry for. We both know how this is going to end. I had texted back despite my better judgment, and when there was no reply, I figured Erik had something to do with it. While my half-brother and I could agree to disagree when it came to our father, with Joanne we shared a mutual agreement she’d be better off with Erik.

She said yes. That one came from half-brother an hour after Joanne’s text. I hadn’t bothered replying. I suspected I’d be invited to the wedding despite my brother’s misgiving.

7:53. A crow screamed at me. One for sorrow. Lily was familiar with the nursery rhyme. I remembered a time when she and I took Jonathan and his sisters to a picnic. The five of us had gone to the lake, and I recalled the startled look on Lily’s face when the boy she was babysitting pulled her into the water. Later, when we were dating, I mentioned in passing that Jonathan once had a crush on her. She had given me a vague smile and pulled me close for a kiss. There’s only you. There will always be only you.

I gave her your letter. This is the last time. Don’t expect me to help you again. The last text came from Jonathan. He had grown bolder and cheekier than I remembered. I guessed little boys never stayed boys for long. I thought about our short conversation last night, as everyone was leaving and after Joanne was whisked away by Erik.

“Why didn’t she come?”

“Did you expect her to?” asked Jonathan. “What are you doing?”