LHM: Like This

The following post contains spoilers for Lord Have Mercy Part III: Rising Sun, available now! Turn back now if you haven't read it yet, or grab a copy here:

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“When was she like this?” he demanded. His hands curled immediately around the mug, an instinctual, childlike gesture of seeking heat, of comfort. It was adorable, but Maggie would never tell him that; she enjoyed the sight of his tan, scarred, big-knuckled hands wrapped around smooth porcelain too much to ruin it with his inevitable self-consciousness.

“Not exactly like this,” she said. “But you weren’t paying much attention to her back when she was in high school. After Hamilton House.”

His complexion went chalky, and she heard the glug of his throat as he swallowed. “After…?”

“After Mason Stephens beat the hell out of her,” Maggie said, matter-of-factly, “and she lost the baby.”

He flinched, and flinched hard. Nearly spilled his tea and caught himself with a curse. Reached to scrub at his jaw again, where she could see a tense muscle leaping.

As a general, unspoken rule, they didn’t really talk about that night. Maggie had mentioned it in passing, back when she felt like she really needed to drive home the point of Mercy and Ava’s bond, and the futility of Ghost’s interference. But they’d never laid that time period out on the table like a photo album and paged through it thoroughly, together, at the same pace. Ghost understood, now, or at least she’d thought he did. But she knew he didn’t like to think of Ava’s hospital stay, and the events that had led up to it.

Just as he hadn’t wanted to be in the house during the slow, arduous days of Ava’s recovery that had lingered on long after her body had healed.

Tonight, Maggie wasn’t going to step carefully around his feelings. They were missing a grandchild, but Ava was missing a child, and her husband was in hiding.

“You weren’t there–” she started, and, predictably, he bowed up.

“Bullshit, I was–”

“Oh, you were in the general vicinity. You were issuing edicts in the hospital. You found time to go and have a nice, productive talk with Mercy about it all.”

He scowled, took a slug of tea, and then made a face, like he’d forgotten what was in his mug for a second. “I did what–”

“You thought was best,” she said, in a soothing tone, and laid a hand on his arm.

“Why are you digging up ancient history?” he groused, but, slowly, she felt the tension bleed out of his forearm.

“Not to put that constipated look on your face, baby, that’s for sure.”

Kitchen table conversations are the meat and potatoes of any good family drama. In real life, and in fiction. The one between Maggie and Ghost in Part Three has been a long time coming. 

Over the course of the series, Ava and Ghost have - I won't say "repaired" their relationship, because it was always lopsided and awkward and lacked mutual acknowledgement - kindled a relationship in which Ghost can accept the fact that Ava's an adult, and a mother, and that he can no longer play dictator. Things have been getting better for them, book by book, but Lord Have Mercy is when he finally begins to understand her on a deeper level. When he realizes that she isn't some tender, sweet flower who Mercy corrupted. The reason she's always loved Mercy, and why they work together so well, is because she was always like Mercy. She's always been the Cathy to his Heathcliff. 

For Ghost, the version of Ava who coldly tossed a match on top of a kerosene-soaked body is a new iteration - but Maggie knows this Ava's always been there. I loved Maggie explaining that to him, and having him finally, finally understand his daughter in this way.