Springing Free of Guilt

‘I can’t believe it’s Spring already,’ Margie marvelled, walking into the garden and inhaling the smell of the freshly cut grass with relish. She held onto her sister’s hand, allowing herself to be guided towards the nearby bench.

Sylvia gently helped Margie onto the bench and smiled at her excitement.

‘I’ve missed the whole of winter recovering from that darned accident,’ Margie lamented. ‘Fancy that!’

Sylvia laughed. ‘Well, it wasn’t the whole of winter, it just felt like it, with you unable to walk down the stairs and ringing that damned bell all the time.’

Margie laughed right along with her. ‘Well, who’s the idiot that gave me that damned bell in the first place?’

‘Point taken,’ her sister nodded. ‘Why on earth did we decide to live in a townhouse instead of a ground floor unit?’

‘It was available and we were both fit and healthy when we moved in,’ Margie reminded her. ‘It’s also lovely, except when you can’t walk downstairs.’

Margie kicked her shoes off awkwardly and ran her toes through some grass clippings. ‘I can’t believe how much I missed the smell of the grass,’ she murmured. 

She pushed herself off the bench and slid down onto the grass, still soft and damp with morning dew.

‘You can leave me here, Sylvie. I’ve got my book and a water bottle.’

‘I’m making the morning coffee, remember? It should be done by now. I’ll bring you out a cup, then I’ve got to get to work. They need me in the office today.’

As her sister busied herself in the kitchen, Margie luxuriated on the grass in the back yard of their unfenced townhouse in a small complex. She gazed out across the other open yards, smiling as she admired the various gardens.  There were two townhouses adjacent to their own, and all their yards bordered a public park with only a low, chain fence dividing them from it. 

Sylvie returned with the coffee, hot and strong and very aromatic.

‘Oh, Danny said he might check in on you at some stage, too,’ she said nonchalantly. She rushed back inside and closed the screen door behind her.

Margie froze for a few minutes, then slowly pulled herself back to a seated position on the bench, and inhaled her coffee. Danny?

She hadn’t seen Danny since…

Her heart was flying around her chest like a ball whizzing around inside an old-school pinball machine, flipping around and trying to find an escape route. No luck! It just kept flipping, and she had to quickly put her cup down before she spilt the much-needed caffeine. Danny? Coming to visit? Now?

Be reasonable, she told herself. He had called a few times, sent some text messages. But not in over a month. And why would he still want to be in touch, after what had happened?

After shakily drinking her coffee, she settled in for some good, hard escapism in the form of a new romance by one of her favourite authors. Yes, that was all she needed. To escape.

Oh, wait. That’s what she’d been doing for the past few months, wasn’t it? Escaping the reality of that car accident. Hiding behind her injuries when she knew a good week ago that she was really okay now. Well, she’d always walk with a limp, and needed a lot more physiotherapy and stuff, but she was physically in much better shape.

Mentally, not so much. The guilt still rode her like a bucking bronco, hanging on inside her no matter how much she tried to shake it loose.

Hands tremoring, she returned to the book.

Josette sighed softly as she fell helplessly into the arms of Raoul, feeling safe and at peace. He buried his face in her soft curls, and commenced nibbling on her delicate earlobe.

Yep, this was more like it: escapism, but in the garden instead of her boring bedroom. Her bedroom hadn’t been boring, before the accident. It had been a place of many enjoyable evenings, nights, mornings, and sometimes all day, with…

‘Danny?’ she squeaked. Damned her stupid squeaky-voiced anxiety!

A tall, sinewy man was strolling across the open park in the direction of her yard, whistling one of her favourite songs in his typical off-key manner! She shook her hands out in disgust, and reached once again for the coffee mug. Man, she really needed it now. Why the hell hadn’t Sylvia put a nip of Kahlua in it, if she knew about Danny visiting? Stupid sister! Stupid non-alcoholic coffee! Stupid empty cup!  Stupid…

‘Margie,’ Danny’s voice came across the yard. Yep, stupid bloody me, too! she nodded to herself.

His signature scent – Ralph Lauren Polo – floated across the garden to her nostrils way before his body had reached the small chain fence. He entered the garden and stood there, taking in the sight of her sitting outside for the first time in two months.

‘You’re a sight for sore eyes,’ he smiled, moving closer to join her on the bench. ‘It’s so good to see you in your garden again.’

He sat beside her and his thigh brushed against hers. Her neck was still very stiff, as the whiplash had caused some arthritis problems, so she had to turn her whole body to face him properly. He held her gaze gently, exploring her face for… WHAT?

‘Hi,’ she said lamely, pushing down the rising anxiety as she felt his touch, searched his face for signs of anger, hatred, disgust. There were none; only signs of warmth and caring.

‘Hi,’ he responded, reaching out to hold her hand in his. She jerked it away suddenly.

‘Oh shit, sorry! It’s these stupid tremors I get now. The nerve damage is healing, but it’s not quite there yet!’ You big, fat liar! You’re just frightened to touch him! Don’t blame the damned accident for EVERYTHING!

‘Oh crap, so you’ve still got a long way to go, hey?’ he sounded distressed on her behalf. ‘I’m so sorry, Margie. I thought you’d be all better by now.’

She had thought this also, but nobody had thought to tell her body, so it was still a work in progress.

She heard her sister’s car pulling out from the garage, on her way to work for the next eight hours. Now she was really starting to freak. She could feel the fear rising inside her, and automatically started her deep breathing exercises, as the therapist had taught her.

‘Honey, are you okay?’ The concern in Danny’s voice was touching, and it made her mad.

‘Don’t call me “honey”,’ she spat.  ‘I’m not your “honey” any more. I’m just the moron that crashed your car and nearly killed your daughter.’

Danny jumped up from the bench at these words, as if she had struck him a physical blow. ‘What?’

‘What do you mean, ‘what’? You know very well I shouldn’t have been driving that day, and I told you I hated driving in the rain, and you should have just called her a cab, or made the school send her home in a cab, or…’

He knelt on the fresh-cut grass at her feet, staring at her in horror.

‘Do you seriously think the accident was your fault? Is that what you think?’

She stared at him in equal horror. What sort of bloody idiot WAS he? Of course, it had been her fault.

He continued to stare at her until her deep breathing became hyperventilating. As she struggled to breathe, he reached up to cup her head in his hands.

‘Breathe, Margie, breathe,’ he insisted, staring into her face so that his eyes were all she could see, all she could focus on. The loving eyes that had only ever gazed at her with love and tenderness.

As her breathing returned to normal, he stood up, shook the grass from his trousers, and sat back down beside her.

‘Are you trying to tell me the reason you’ve ignored me for all this time is because you thought the accident was your fault?’

His eyes showed total confusion.

‘Well, d’uh!’

She was feeling a little less sure of herself now, if that were even possible.

‘Stop gaping at me like a fucking goldfish, for God’s sake!’ she said, too loudly. ‘Of course it was my bloody fault, you fool!’

The sight of a stray tear escaping his eye broke her resolve of good old guilt, and she felt some moisture rising in her own eyes.

‘Margie,’ he began. ‘I have been feeling so guilty for asking you to pick her up that day. When the school rang and said she was sick, I just wanted her home as soon as possible, and I had to go to that meeting. It was me who put you in that situation, by asking you to collect her for me!’

She felt her own mouth doing the fish-gaping thing now, and her head was doing as many somersaults as her heart.

‘I knew you hated driving in the rain,’ he continued. ‘What I didn’t know was that they had already put out a warning regarding flash flooding. I was too focussed on that damned meeting to think about any danger I was putting you in – both of you.’

Her eyes softened; as did her heart.

‘I had no right to make you responsible for her well-being in the first place. I had no right telling you to take my car to pick her up. I had no right…’

His voice turned husky, and he couldn’t continue. ‘I’ve stayed away because you seemed so angry at me. I thought you blamed me for the accident. I…’

‘But I thought you hated me for injuring your little girl,’ she said. ‘That’s why I stopped answering your texts, and told you to leave me alone. I thought you would hate me forever!’

His eyes held such sadness she couldn’t contain her tears any longer. He drew her in close, in an awkward fashion, sensing she still had pain and not sure where she was hurting.

‘Margie, I love you with all my heart! You always knew that! Bonnie didn’t have anywhere near the injuries you did! You shielded her body when you skidded out into that tree. She had a bit of whiplash and a few cuts and bruises. That’s it. I thought you knew that.’

‘Well, Sylvia told me that, of course,’ she mumbled. ‘And so did you. But that isn’t the point. I could have gotten her killed. I didn’t think you’d ever trust me again.’

‘So, you hid yourself away and wouldn’t let me visit? Wouldn’t let me bring Bonnie over, even when she has been missing you for weeks?’

Margie felt the pain in her chest burst like fireworks. Poor Bonnie! It had never occurred to her Bonnie would be missing her. Never occurred to her that the girl may be feeling neglected. Because all she, Margie had felt – she realised now – was selfish pride and self-righteous guilt! Stupid woman!

‘Oh, poor Bonnie! I never thought that she’d…’

‘Miss you? Seriously?’ His look of compassion at her stupidity was too much for her to bear. She lowered her eyes and stared into her hands.

‘Margie, you were the best thing for both of us. Coming into our lives after her mum died, it was more than I could wish for. To meet a woman who was prepared to take on an eight-year-old girl? I was so happy. She adores you. She has felt bad that it was because of her being sick that you ended up injured.’

She rose her head and tried to summon a smile. ‘Bloody hell, Danny! We’ve all been blaming each other, and I’ve been hiding in my bedroom frightened to even come out into the garden for the past two months!’

They stared at each other for the longest time, until at last, she leaned in for a warm kiss.

‘I missed you,’ he said.’

‘I missed you, too,’ she replied.

‘Are you officially out of hibernation now?’ he asked. ‘Because there were certain things I was going to do that day, besides that meeting.’

‘Oh, really?’ she was intrigued. Danny had always played his feelings close to his chest, but now she could see passion and hunger and…

He stood up, shook himself off, and knelt once again in front of her. As he pulled the ring box from his pocket, she felt herself freeze.

‘Don’t you dare have a panic attack before I get to finish this,’ he warned.  ‘Or you’ll have to deal with me having one right along with you! Margie Jackson, will you marry me?’

She froze, unfroze, cried, laughed, and nodded dumbly in reply.

He put the ring on her tremoring hand, and stood up, drawing her onto her feet to pull her in close.

‘How do you feel about a Spring wedding?’ he whispered.