Ben bore the burden of the woman’s comment every minute of the four-hour drive to the airport and on into his six-hour flight home. All the while his emotions took him in a dozen different directions—anger at Maggie for lying to him, guilt and regret for having broken up with her, anticipation and expectation for the moment when he could meet John McFadden and ask him about Maggie.
And, of course, overriding fear.
Because more than anything else, Ben was afraid of the meeting he was about to arrange. Afraid of what he might learn about the wife he loved more than life itself.
Terrified that the information might change his life forever.
Eleven
LAURA THOMPSON TOOK HER SEAT IN THE FOURTH ROW AT Cleveland Community Church and reached for her husband’s hand. He winked warmly at her, and she leaned close, whispering even though the service hadn’t started yet. “Have you seen Maggie Stovall?”
Larry frowned and glanced over his shoulder, scanning the congregation. “No. Whaddya want with the Stovall woman?”
Laura hesitated. She’d told him about the prayer mission her Bible study had taken on, but not the name of the woman she was praying for. Eventually she would tell him, when it became clearer why God had asked her to pray for Maggie Stovall in the first place. “Nothing. Just wondered if you’d seen her.”
Laura settled back against the cold, wooden pew, occasionally checking over one shoulder or the other in search of the woman. Maggie hadn’t missed a Sunday as far back as Laura could remember. She was always there, second row, middle of the aisle, smiling and greeting visitors as though she hadn’t a care in the world.
Where is she, Lord? Is something happening to her? Is Maggie in trouble?
Pray, daughter. Pray diligently.
Laura was overcome by the gravity in the silent voice that resonated throughout her heart. It was true, then. Maggie must be having some kind of problem, and now Laura’s prayers were needed quickly and desperately.
Without hesitating another moment or letting Larry in on the urgency that accompanied her thoughts, she closed her eyes, bowed her head only an inch or two, and prayed for Maggie Stovall as though her life depended on it.
On Maggie’s third day at Orchards, Dr. Camas decided she needed to be on more medication. She had continued to take the antianxiety drugs, which seemed to help her heart beat normally, but now the doctor was bringing out the big guns. Along with breakfast that morning there were two additional pills on a small plate, and Maggie rang for the nurse.
She pointed to the pills when the nurse appeared. “What are these?”
“Oh, I’m sorry Mrs. Stovall. I thought the doctor explained those. I guess he’ll be in later to talk to you about it. You’ve heard of Prozac?”
Maggie’s heart sank and she squeezed her eyes shut. Prozac? Christians didn’t go on Prozac. Lord, what am I doing here? Why did You let me build my whole life on a lie? I hate myself, God. Please…just take me now. I don’t want to live…
“Mrs. Stovall? Are you all right?” The nurse sat down on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on Maggie’s arm. “It’s okay he didn’t give you a high dosage. Just something to help you think more clearly.”
None of it made any sense. She kept her eyes closed, ignoring the nurse’s attempts at comfort. A week ago she’d been jogging around the park, enjoying Casey and Cameron, and writing a successful column for a major metropolitan newspaper. Now she was under watch and supervision by a staff of doctors and nurses at a psychiatric hospital. What had gone wrong?
“Does it bother you, having to take this type of drug?” The nurse’s voice was gentle, but Maggie felt her anger rising to the surface. Her eyes flew open.
“Yes! It bothers me very much. I’m not a lunatic or something! I should be able to control my moods, my personality, the way I think…without taking some…some sort of psych medication.”
A tender smile filled the nurse’s face. “That isn’t always so, Mrs. Stovall. There are many reasons why a person might need these types of medications. Here at Orchards we believe that God has allowed the development of drugs like this to help medical professionals restore us to the place we were before we were sick. Would it help you to think of it that way?”
Maggie sighed, then started when she realized there were tears streaming down her face. Are You even there, God? Or did You check out at the door?
It was possible. After all, God had a lot better things to do than baby-sit Christians who couldn’t keep from falling apart, let alone live a joyful life. And other than the fact that it was based on a foundation of lies, Maggie knew her life should have been joyful.
“Fine.” Maggie gulped down the pills with a single swallow of water. “What other drugs does he want me to take? Is there a happiness drug and a rational drug and a drug that’ll make things right between me and my husband? Because I’m a candidate for those, too.”
The nurse rose and headed toward the door. She still wore the trace of a smile, but Maggie could see she’d pushed her too far. “I’m sorry this is so hard for you, Mrs. Stovall. I’ll be out at the nurse’s station if you need anything.”
Maggie crossed her arms furiously and pushed away her breakfast. She hated it here; hated being locked up and treated like a child. There was no point to it. The darkness still hung over her very being, lurking in the shadows of her room and following her down the hall to every meeting, every appointment. She still dreamed of the beautiful blond girl and still woke with arms aching from their emptiness.
That morning there were three physical examinations and two appointments with therapists who asked questions about how Maggie was feeling now that she was at Orchards.
“Honest.” Maggie said the word with all the defiance she felt. She had never intended to be honest about any of this. She was being forced into it. She didn’t want to revisit her past, to face the lifetime of hurt that lay ready to be discovered…but the medical staff at Orchards was leaving her no choice.
There was only one place where the feeling of impending doom seemed to lift, and that was in the quiet calm of Dr. Camas’s office. Maggie took her lunch in her room again and dozed off and on until her two o’clock meeting. It was strange that she felt any peace at all heading toward the meeting with Dr. Camas. Especially since it was in his office that she was likely to come face to face with a past she’d been running from all her married life.
When she was situated in her chair, he gently recapped the things she had told him the day before. “Seems like you had very special feelings for Ben back then, is that right?”
Maggie thought for a moment and uttered a brief laugh. “Yes. I wanted to marry him from the moment I saw him.”
The doctor nodded his understanding. When Maggie said nothing, he ventured forward. “Something happened to change that?”
Maggie felt a chill pass over her, the feeling of pure, cold, terror. The light in Dr. Camas’s eyes caught her attention, and she felt compelled to tell the story, the complete story in all its frighteningly painful details.
She drew a deep breath and began to speak.
Ben placed the call to Topper’s Pop Bar at just after noon that same day and immediately knew he had the right place. “I’m looking for John McFadden.”
“Whaddya need?” The man on the other end was gruff, unwilling to share any more information than was absolutely necessary.
“I’m a friend of his from a few years ago. He owns the place, right?” Ben was guessing, and his heart sounded loudly as he waited for an answer.
“Yeah, okay, I guess so.” His voice bore a thick New York accent, and Ben wondered if Maggie’s mother was right. Maybe John McFadden was into more than selling whiskey to the people who found their way to his bar. “Johnny’s in after six. Call then.”
Six hours. Ben thanked the man and hung up. No way was he going to wait six hours to call the man on the phone. If this was the same John McFadden who had dated Maggie that year, Ben wanted to see him. Now. In person.
>
He roamed aimlessly around the house wondering how he was going to pass the time. As he scanned the rooms, he realized their home had taken on a disheveled look. Maggie had always kept everything so neat. Laundry cleaned, clothes hung up, dinners on the table every evening. Of course, that was before things changed. In the past two years the house had been messy more often than not, and sometimes when she didn’t have a column to write, he’d come home at six o’clock to find Maggie still in her pajamas.
Whatever it was that was eating at her, it had been a long time coming. Why didn’t I see it before? Ben didn’t like any of the answers that came to mind.
He made his way upstairs and started a load of towels. He guessed on the amount of laundry soap and hoped three scoops were enough. Then he grabbed his Bible off the night-stand near his bed. Everywhere he turned the message seemed the same…
Know the truth…the truth will set you free…worship in truth…
What are You trying to tell me, God? That You’re glad I’m doing this, that You want me to find the truth out about Maggie? He finished reading and worked some more on the laundry, but still time passed slowly. Two-thirty, then three o’clock. Three hours before he would get in his car and head for a bar, three hours until he would come face to face with a man Maggie had cared for.
A man Ben hadn’t known existed.
Maggie let her mind drift. She remembered the phone call like it was yesterday.
After meeting that summer, she and Ben talked to each other often, sometimes writing letters and making promises to be together. Maggie was busy with her school year, involved with her friends at church and working part time for the Akron Beacon-Journal. Ben was preoccupied with his toughest year of studies yet, in addition to studying for the bar exam and still, on occasion, seeing Deirdre.
One night, Ben invited Maggie to a party with some of his buddies from school. Before the night was over, Deirdre and a friend showed up, and Ben introduced them.
The girl barely spoke to Maggie, and though Ben seemed unaware of the tension, Maggie was certain of one thing from that moment on. No matter what Ben thought, Deirdre considered him more than just a friend. It couldn’t have been any clearer if she’d written it in ink across her face. She was in love with Ben, and that gave Maggie an immediate feeling of insecurity.
“Well be together more soon,” Ben had promised Maggie a few weeks later. “Even this spring, after exams. That’ll give us plenty of time to do stuff.”
“What about Deirdre? I saw how she looked at you and I think you’re wrong about her.” Maggie wasn’t sure if her words were meant as a warning to Ben or to herself. She knew only that he held the power to break both her heart and Deirdre’s.
“Maggie, how many times do I have to tell you?” Ben’s voice was kind and compassionate, filled with all the emotion she’d seen in his eyes that first time they met. “It’s nothing serious.” She tried to feel comforted, but something in the distant places of her heart warned her of danger where Ben was concerned.
Still, he would tell her the same thing over and over. “She’s a friend. Kind of like she’s always been there. I don’t know…it’s hard to explain.”
No matter what Ben said, Maggie didn’t understand. As far as she could see, there was no reason to spend any time with Deirdre if he felt so strongly about his budding relationship with Maggie.
Twice when she had a free weekend, Maggie drove up to Cleveland and spent the day with Ben, watching him play touch football with his law school buddies. He was a gifted athlete, hanging back in the pocket long enough to let his receivers find their right places on the field and then flinging the ball to them with uncanny accuracy. Maggie was proud of him and wished she’d seen him play for CSU. Even there, though, on the intramural field, she felt her heart nearly bursting with pride.
On one of her visits he took her to another party. Most of the people there had been part of the Cleveland Community College youth group and Maggie had the uncomfortable feeling she was being compared to Deirdre. About an hour later—once again—Deirdre and a friend arrived and made their way toward Ben and Maggie.
“Deirdre’s here,” Ben whispered, nodding toward the blond on the right.
“Hi, Ben.” Deirdre put her arm comfortably on Ben’s shoulder, leaned toward him, and kissed him squarely on the mouth. Although the kiss didn’t last long, Ben’s expression grew strained; he seemed to stumble over his words. When Deirdre and her friend wandered off to find something to eat, Maggie turned to face him.
“I thought it was only a friendship thing?” She was furious at him for lying to her and she had to fight the urge to walk out and never look back. If Deirdre was his girlfriend, she wasn’t interested. “Good-bye, Ben. Call me when you’re free.”
Ben came after her. “Maggie, really. She never acts like that…that kiss thing. We aren’t like that. Can’t you believe me?”
Maggie stopped to face him again. “I’m not blind, Ben.” She whirled around and continued toward the door.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ben moved in front of her and blocked her way.
“It means that Deirdre is in love with you. And as long as you two are seeing each other, I’m bowing out.” In the distance she could see Deirdre watching them, whispering to her friends. Maggie leaned dramatically around Ben and made eye contact with the other girl. Then she smiled and waved with all the sweet, sticky sarcasm she could muster. When she was sure she had the girl’s attention, Maggie leaned over and kissed Ben the same way Deirdre had. Only Maggie made sure her kiss lasted longer.
It was their first kiss, and even now, all these years later, Maggie felt a stab of regret that she had used it as a weapon of revenge.
Especially because it was a kiss she’d dreamed about for months.
Ben’s face was layered in confusion and desire. “Hey, Mag…what was that all—”
Maggie interrupted him with a brief wave and an artificially sweet smile. “See ya, Ben.” Then she turned and left.
There were phone calls after that, but Maggie kept them short. “Still seeing Deirdre?”
Ben would sigh in frustration. “You can’t expect me to cut her out of my life overnight. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”
“It’s been nice talking with you, Ben. Gotta run.” And she’d hang up.
By February, when Ben began studying more intensely for the bar exam, he had finally stopped seeing Deirdre except at college church functions. He called Maggie constantly, swearing his love and asking to see her more often. She took her time before accepting his offers, and finally they agreed that he would accompany Maggie to a dance at her university later that spring. They began dating every other weekend and often their good night kisses lingered for several minutes before Maggie would pull herself away.
“I love you, Mag…” Ben would tell her as she left.
“You, too.” It was true. Maggie trusted Ben and believed that Deirdre was no longer an issue in their lives. Ben Stovall was the man God had chosen for her and she could see nothing but happy days ahead for both of them.
But that was before the phone call.
The news that would change her life forever, the words she would never forget, came one Monday in late March, four days before the big dance. Maggie was working on a term paper for investigative journalism when the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Maggie…oh, Maggie, something awful’s happened.”
Even now she remembered how his tone had shot adrenaline racing through her body. She could see herself, the way she had dropped her pencil and leaned back in her chair. “What is it?”
On the other end, Ben drew a deep breath, and Maggie thought she could hear him crying. “Deirdre’s mother was killed in a boating accident. They were out on Lake Michigan and…I don’t know, something happened…a storm came up. I guess it was hard to see and another boat hit theirs head on. Deirdre broke her arm and fractured her hip. Everyone else was okay, but Deirdre’s mo
ther hit her head…”
“I’m sorry.” An array of emotions assaulted her, and she had a sick feeling about where the conversation was headed.
“They radioed the Coast Guard and got Deirdre’s mom to a local hospital…but it was too late. She was bleeding internally and…there was nothing anyone could do for her.”
Maggie was silent for a moment, not sure what she should say. She remembered the party where Deirdre had gone out of her way to mark Ben as her own, and how Maggie had made sure to pay her back. “Deirdre must be devastated.”
“Everyone is.” She heard him stifle a sob. “Maggie…Deirdre’s mother was my mom’s best friend. She was like a second mom to me. I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Is Deirdre…” Maggie didn’t want to sound jealous. Not at a time like this. “Is she at home or what?”
“She’s in the hospital in traction. They transported her to Cleveland General this morning. They’re going to operate on her hip first thing tomorrow and hopefully they’ll let her out for the funeral.”
“When is it?” Maggie knew the answer before she asked.
“Saturday. Same day as your dance.” Ben hesitated, and Maggie squeezed her eyes shut. She was sorry for Deirdre, but something deep inside her heart desperately feared where all this could lead. Ben cleared his throat. “Maggie…you understand, don’t you? Deirdre needs me with her at the service.”
Maggie’s hesitation lasted only a moment. “Absolutely, Ben. Definitely. It’s just a dance.” With all her heart she wanted to believe the words that so easily flowed from her mouth, wanted to trust Ben and not feel threatened by Deirdre’s mother’s death. But jealousy swelled deep inside her, leaving a lump in her throat and making it difficult to talk.
“I’m sorry, Mag, but I knew you’d understand.” Ben sounded so relieved and deeply troubled at the same time that Maggie hated herself for being worried. She pictured Deirdre…and somehow the image of Ben comforting the blond in her greatest hour of need troubled Maggie to the point of tears.