The weight of perfection
It was a lovely summer afternoon, Alexandra sat on the porch at Finch’s Landing, embroidering a handkerchief, her stitches precise and deliberate. Her mother’s voice echoed in her head, reminding her to sit up straight, to be graceful, to be perfect. She did as she was told, like always, but her mind wandered to Maudie’s laughter, carefree and unrestrained, dancing on the summer breeze.
She didn’t hear the footsteps approaching until a familiar voice called out, “Afternoon, Alex.” Alexandra’s needle froze mid-stitch. She looked up to see Maudie standing at the gate, a basket of fresh peaches in her hands and a playful grin on her lips.
“Maudie,” Alexandra managed, keeping her voice steady. “What brings you by?”
Maudie’s eyes sparkled. “Thought I’d bring some of these over before Atticus and Jack eat ’em all.” She stepped onto the porch, her presence filling the air with a sweet, heady warmth.
Alexandra felt her pulse quicken. She shouldn’t be feeling this way. Not about Maudie. Not about any woman. She forced a polite smile. “That’s mighty kind of you.”
Maudie sat beside her, the hem of her dress brushing against Alexandra’s. Her scent was intoxicating—a mix of garden soil and magnolia blossoms. “You’re always so serious, Alex,” Maudie teased, her voice soft. “Don’t you ever get tired of being perfect?”
Alexandra’s heart skipped. “It’s just… the way things are.”
“But does it have to be?” Maudie’s eyes held a question, one that lingered, daring Alexandra to answer.
Before she could think, Alexandra whispered, “I don’t know.”
They sat in silence, the cicadas humming around them. Alexandra’s hand trembled, her fingers grazing Maudie’s as she reached for a peach. The touch was electric, sending a shiver down her spine.
Maudie looked at her then, her smile fading, her expression softening. “Alex… if things were different… if you could be anyone you wanted… who would you be?”
The question hung heavy in the air. Alexandra looked down at her lap, at the embroidery forgotten in her hands. Her heart raced, her chest tight. “I… I don’t know.”
But she did know. She’d always known. She just didn’t have the courage to say it aloud. To admit that she wanted to be someone who could reach out, who could take Maudie’s hand and hold it, who could lean in and close the distance between them.
Maudie’s fingers brushed against hers once more, lingering just a moment longer this time. “Well, if you ever figure it out… let me be the first to know.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, filled with hope and heartbreak all at once.
And then she stood, her warmth slipping away as she walked down the steps, leaving Alexandra on the porch, staring after her, the peaches untouched beside her.
The sun began to set, casting shades of gold and pink across the sky, but all Alexandra could see were Maudie’s eyes, full of questions she was too scared to answer.
For the first time in her life, Alexandra Finch wondered if being the perfect Finch lady was worth losing the one thing she truly wanted.