A Kingsbury Collection

by Karen Kingsbury

  The older woman set down her coffee cup, and again Ben thought he caught a hint of fear in her eyes. “It’s destroying her?”

  “Yes. To be perfectly honest, I think the hospital is worried she might kill herself.”

  This time Maggie’s mother felt the blow. Her eyes filled with tears, and though she remained utterly still and dignified, Ben could see her heart breaking.

  “Things have changed since I was a girl … ”

  Ben waited. Wherever she was headed, he had a feeling he was close … close to getting the information he so desperately needed.

  “In my day, a young woman would never have allowed herself to become so self-absorbed. After all, God’s given her a—” she motioned toward him and glanced his direction—“an upstanding Christian husband. In my day that would have been enough. A woman would have known to let dead dogs lay, not dredge up the past for strangers to sift through and analyze looking for answers. My goodness!” Madeline raised her voice a level. “Maggie has everything a girl could possibly hope for. And I’m sure one of these days God was planning to give her the babies she wants. Why can’t she leave well enough alone?”

  Ben didn’t do or say anything to stop the woman. Keep talking, Madeline. Keep talking. “Maybe whatever it is seems too big to leave alone.”

  Madeline shook her head and stared into her coffee cup. “Times have changed.”

  “Mrs. Johnson, remember when Maggie and I fell out of touch there for a year or so? Before we were married?”

  The expression on Madeline’s face changed again, and Ben had the oddest feeling the older woman was steeling herself against something inevitable. She stared hard at him. “Yes … she was devastated.”

  Ben felt the dig. Is this it, Lord? Did something happen while we were apart? A ripple of fear skittered down his spine, and he felt almost sure they were treading on a hidden layer of information that would lend insight to Maggie’s madness. After all, it had been the darkest year of his life, too.

  “Maggie never said much about that time.” Ben searched for the right words. “Do you know if—”

  “His name was John.” Her words spilled out, pouring forth information as if she couldn’t bear to hold it in another minute. “John McFadden.”

  Ben felt his world tilt crazily. “What?”

  At his whispered exclamation, Madeline lifted her coffee cup once more and took a long sip, leveling her gaze at Ben. “Maggie dated John quite seriously for several months that year. She didn’t tell you?”

  What is she talking about? Maggie hadn’t dated anyone else, ever. Was this the lie? Had it been that easy to discover her secret?

  “No … she never mentioned him.”

  Whoever he was it couldn’t have been serious. Maggie had been in love with Ben before meeting this John McFadden, and after Ben was finally able to work his life out, Maggie had married him, not the other man. Whoever John McFadden was, Maggie couldn’t possibly have cared much for him. But then why did she lie to me, Lord?

  Madeline seemed anxious to take control of the conversation. “Ben, you broke Maggie’s heart when you stopped calling. John had been pursuing her for months and that summer the two of them spent … ” She paused, clearly searching for the right words. “They spent a lot of time together. Her father and I did not approve.”

  Ben’s head was still spinning. He could understand Maggie dating someone else, but someone her parents didn’t approve of? “Was he a Christian?”

  “Definitely not. He was popular and handsome, and in some ways he reminded us of you. Except that he made a mockery of Maggie’s faith.”

  The truth settled heavily on Ben’s heart. “I don’t understand. Maggie would never have been attracted to someone who wasn’t … ” He let his voice drift.

  “She wasn’t exactly herself after you disappeared. Like I said, she was very hurt.”

  Obviously Maggie’s mother blamed him. It had been Ben’s fault back then, therefore it was Ben’s fault now. He had made one bad decision in the spring of 1992 and as a result he had lost touch with Maggie for more than a year. Now, eight years later, he was supposed to believe Maggie’s choice to date this John McFadden was the reason she had suffered a nervous breakdown?

  The pieces didn’t add up.

  “Is that all? Did anything bad happen between them? I mean … ” Ben couldn’t bear to ask the questions that poked at his mind, but he had to know. “He didn’t hurt her or do anything against her will, did he?” He knew Maggie well enough to know she would never have allowed John McFadden or any man to touch her before her wedding night.

  But that didn’t mean she hadn’t been …

  “She was not raped, if that’s what you mean.” Ben was shocked that Maggie’s mother would speak so bluntly, but he was thankful all the same.

  He exhaled slowly and realized he’d been holding his breath. “I guess I’m still a little confused.”

  Madeline crossed her legs and glanced nervously at her hands. “I’m not sure I should tell you this … but if Maggie is really that bad … ” She folded her fingers together on her lap and Ben could see they were shaking. “Maybe you have a right to the information.”

  Not more lies. Lord, give me strength. “Go ahead, Mrs. Johnson, please.”

  “John McFadden still lives in Cleveland. Your area, actually. I believe he runs a bar on the south side. Topper’s … something like that.”

  Ben struggled to make sense of all Madeline had told him. “Why would you still know that?”

  “I could be wrong. But last time I was in Cleveland I saw an ad someplace and noticed his name. He’s been there quite a while.”

  “Is there something else, anything you’re not telling me?” Ben had the feeling there was. Come on, Lord, make her talk to me.

  “I’ve told you all I know. Anything else you’d need to get from John. But I’m warning you … he’s not a nice man. I think he’s into some very nasty things, illegal things. Be careful.”

  Ben’s mind raced. “How would you know that unless Maggie had told you?” Had she kept in touch with the man? And why hadn’t she ever mentioned him? The whole thing was crazy.

  “Maggie’s father kept tabs on him. He threatened Maggie more than once, and Mr. Johnson liked to know where he was, what he was doing. Just in case.”

  “Just in case what?”

  “I’m not sure. Maggie’s father had a bad feeling about the man.”

  Ben wished there were some way he could blink and wind up back in Cleveland. He wanted to visit Maggie’s old boyfriend before another fifteen minutes passed.

  Patience, My son. Love covers a multitude of sins …

  The voice that spoke to his heart calmed his trembling and helped him deal with the situation at hand. “That’s all, then?”

  Madeline drew a lengthy breath. “Yes. This thing Maggie’s dealing with, I have a feeling it might be connected to John McFadden.”

  It had gotten late, and Ben accepted Madeline’s offer of the guestroom and a full breakfast in the morning. Before he left, she studied his face. “Tell Maggie I’m praying for her. And whatever you find out, Ben … try to understand. Maggie would never have given John McFadden a second glance if you hadn’t left her.”

  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.

  11

  Laura Thompson took her seat in the fourth row at Cleveland Community Church and reached fo
r 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 enou
gh. Then he grabbed his Bible off the nightstand 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? We 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.

  “We’ll 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.