Midnight Bayou

champagne, wandered to the baluster. Below, people were still dancing on the lawn. A group of women sat at one of the white tablesunder a white moon, some with babies sleeping on their shoulders, some with children drooping in their laps.
    “He was bored in Boston.”
    Intrigued, Lena looked away from the people, the charm of the fairy lights, and looked at Patrick. “Bored?”
    “Unhappy, restless, but in a large part bored. With his work, his fiancée, his life. The only thing that put any excitement in his face was the old house he was redoing. I worried he’d go along, end up married to the wrong woman, working in a field he disliked, living a life that only half satisfied him. I shouldn’t have worried.”
    He leaned back on the baluster and looked through the open doors into the ballroom. “His mind, his heart, was never set on the path we—his mother and I—cleared for him. We didn’t want to see that, so for a long time, we didn’t.”
    “You only wanted the best for him. People tend to think what’s best for them is best for the people they love.”
    “Yes, and Declan’s nature is to do whatever he can to make those he loves happy. He loves you.”
    When she said nothing, Patrick turned to her. “You said he was stubborn. It’s more than that. Once Declan sets his mind on a goal, on a vision, he’s got a head like granite. He won’t be turned away by obstacles or excuses or lukewarm protests. If you don’t love him, Lena, if you don’t want a life with him, hurt him. Hurt him quick and make it deep. Then walk away.”
    “I don’t want to hurt him. That’s the whole point and problem.”
    “He didn’t think he was capable of loving anyone. He told me that after he broke it off with Jessica. He said he didn’t have that kind of love inside him. Now he knows he does, and he’s better for it. You’ve already made a difference in his life, an important one. Now you have tolove him back, or leave him. To do anything in between would be cruel, and you’re not cruel.”
    She reached up, closed her fingers around the key on its chain, then dropped them—nervous now—to the wings on her breast. “He’s not what I planned for. He’s not what I was looking for.”
    He smiled then, kindly, and patted her hand. “Life’s full of surprises, isn’t it? Some of them are a real kick in the ass.” Then he leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you again,” he said, and left her alone.
    T he party rolled on a good two hours after the bride and groom were seen off in a shower of confetti—which Declan imagined he’d be finding in his lawn, his clothes, perhaps even his food for the next six months.
    The music stayed hot, and the guests stayed happy. In the early hours of the morning, some walked to their cars. Others were carried, and not all of them were children.
    Declan stood on the curve of his front steps and watched the last of them drive away. The sky in the east was paling, just a gentle lessening of the dark. Even as he stood, he saw a star go out.
    Morning was waking.
    “You must be tired,” Lena said from the gallery above him.
    “No.” He continued to look at the sky. “I should be, but I’m not.”
    “It’s going to take you a week to clean this place up.”
    “Nope. The General and her troops are coming over tomorrow to deal with it. I’m ordered to keep out of the way, and that’s one command I won’t have any trouble obeying. I didn’t think you’d stay.”
    “Neither did I.”
    He turned now, looked up at her. A kind of Romeo and Juliet pose, he thought, and hoped for a better ending. “Why did you?”
    “I’m not sure. I don’t know what to do about you, Declan. I swear to God, I just don’t know. Men’ve never been any trouble for me. Maybe I’ve been trouble for them,” she said with a faint smile. “But you’re the first who’s given me any.”
    He started up to her. “None of them loved you.”
    “No, none of them loved me. Wanted me. Desired me, but that’s the easy part. You can be careless with wants. And I’ll tell you the truth. Sometimes, most times, I enjoyed that carelessness. Not just the sex, but the dance. The game. Whatever you want to call that courtship that’s no courtship at all. When the music stops, or the game’s over, there might be some bumps and bruises, but nobody’s really hurt.”
    “But this isn’t a game between the two of us.”
    “I’ve already hurt you.”
    “Bumps and bruises so far,