Light in the Shadows

sat up a little straighter and met her eyes.  “That’s great actually,” I said more firmly and forced myself to smile.  Ruby’s face relaxed marginally.
     
                    “Yes, it is,” Ruby agreed.  She cleared her throat.  “She came in to look over the new books.  I told her it was good to see her but I tried to leave her alone.  She didn’t seem to want to talk much and I didn’t want to push her.”  I could only imagine how awkward seeing Ruby had been for Maggie. 
     
                    There was a moment of silence and I thought that was it.  But I should have known better.  Ruby was notorious for dragging a story out.  You could either find it endearing or exasperating.  Right now I was leaning towards the latter.
     
                    “She got some books and then just as she was leaving she handed me that.   She said it was for you.  For your birthday.  She asked that I make sure you got it because she didn’t know where to send it.”  Ruby gave me a pointed look then.  One that clearly said she thought I was an idiot for keeping my whereabouts a mystery from Maggie.  She just didn’t get how hard that decision had been for me to make.  How some days I questioned my judgment so loudly that it took everything in me to not pick up the phone and call her. Maggie was my weakness.  My compulsive addiction that once fed wouldn’t let go. 
     
                    At one time, I thought she was the healthiest, purest thing in my life.  And part of me still did.  But now, with a clear head, I was able to see how the darkness had tainted so much of what we were.  And Maggie needed more than what I could currently give her.  The back and forth, tug and pull of my feelings about that beautiful girl had become a daily struggle.  One that no matter how much time passed or how much distance was between us, would never let up.
     
                    “I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to give it to you, Clayton,” Ruby told me, resting a startlingly piercing gaze in my direction.  For all of her feigned ditziness, it concealed a sharp mind and an even sharper eye.  Ruby saw more than I ever gave her credit for.  And something told me that she knew all too well how hard I struggled, even with the strides I was making.
     
                    I grimaced in understanding at her hesitance.  I got it.  Really, I did.  “It’s cool,” I assured her, hoping like hell she believed my pile of bullshit. 
     
                    Not waiting any longer, I pulled at the wrapping and tossed it on the floor.  At the first glimpse of the dark, charcoal butterfly on the cover, I had to sit back and take a minute.  Because this girl was going to undo me from a thousand miles away.  She was getting ready to rip my fucking heart out.
     
                    You see, I recognized that butterfly.  Because I had drawn it myself.  For her.
     
                    For Maggie.
     
                    “What the hell?” I asked to myself, pulling the leather bound book from the last scraps of paper.  Opening it up, I realized it was a scrap book. Page after page, Maggie had carefully placed my drawings on plain mattes.  They were the ones from my bedroom wall in Virginia.  And the ones I had given her. 
     
                    Every single one was there.  Every.  Single.  One.
     
                    Ruby was looking at the pictures over my shoulder as I flipped through.  I turned to my aunt.  “When did she do this?  When did she get my pictures?” I asked in absolute disbelief.  I was stunned by what was in my hands.  Like a piece of me had been returned.  As though, once again, Maggie May Young had swooped into the rescue.
     
                    I couldn’t put into words the way my heart literally opened up at seeing these pictures again.  It was easily one of the most amazing and thoughtful gifts I had ever received.  As if I could expect anything less from the girl who had made it her mission to save me from myself. 
     
                    Ruby traced her finger along a picture of Maggie’s face that I had drawn in pencil.  I loved that drawing.  I remembered the day I had done it.  She had come over to my house to study and had ended up falling asleep.  I loved it when she did that.   The