A Kingsbury Collection

by Karen Kingsbury

“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 “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 mother 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.

  “Hey, I gotta run, Maggie. I want to be there when Deirdre comes out of surgery. She needs me.”

  Maggie was silent, Ben’s last words ringing through her head: She needs me, she needs me, she needs me.

  Ben cut in quickly on her thoughts. “You know what I mean, right, Mag? She doesn’t need me in that way. It’s just that … well, she’s lost so much.” He paused as if he was searching for the right words. “And I’m still probably her best friend. You understand, right?”

  Maggie stifled the tears that threatened to break loose at any moment. What choice did she have but to understand? “Sure, Ben. Call me later.”

  “Pray for her, okay?” She could hear in his voi
ce that he was anxious to go. Sure.

  When they hung up, Maggie dropped her head into her hands and muttered a sincere prayer that God show mercy to Deirdre in the days to come. Then she wept for Deirdre and the death of her mother and the sad fact that tragic things happen even to godly, Christian people. But most of all she wept for herself and the strange feeling that had come over her.

  The feeling that she had just lost Ben Stovall forever.

  Maggie fell silent and Dr. Camas shifted his position. “Is that all for today?”

  The room was quiet except for the gentle whirring of heat circulating from a ceiling vent. That phone call from Ben had been the beginning of the darkest days in Maggie’s life, the culmination of which made it hard for Maggie to think clearly eight years later.

  Confess to one another … live in the light, daughter …

  At that moment, the whispering of God did not seem intertwined with doom and desperation. Instead His words seemed the very seeds of hope. Her eyes met the doctor’s and again she saw a wealth of warmth and light and somehow she knew she had to continue. Only by going back would she ever move forward toward the place of sunshine and hope that Dr. Camas—and God, Himself—were calling her to.

  Fresh tears spilled from Maggie’s eyes and she shook her head. “No, there’s more.”

  “I’ve got time, Mrs. Stovall.” His slight smile bathed the room in kindness. “Why don’t you go ahead.”

  Maggie nodded and again allowed herself to drift back in time, back to the place where Ben began spending every spare moment with Deirdre.

  At first it had been out of necessity. There were details for Deirdre’s father to handle, matters to be taken care of, and with Deirdre in the hospital, Ben was often the only person available to sit by her side. Maggie went to the dance by herself that weekend and spent the evening with a host of friends, including John McFadden, local baseball sensation and easily the most popular boy on campus.

  “Hey, Maggie. I know you’re one of those Christian girls, but what about you and me going out sometime, huh?”

  Maggie felt herself blush. He was so good looking. In fact, in some ways he reminded her of Ben, with the exception of his eyes. Ben’s eyes were filled with a love for God; John’s were filled with something else … something dark and a little bit dangerous.

  Though Maggie enjoyed every moment with John that evening, she knew about the rumors, how John used a girl and left her for another conquest. There was a significant trail of broken hearts lining the hallways of Akron University and a few guys even attested to the fact that John McFadden kept lists of the girls he’d been with.

  So she looked at him that night and laughed lightly. “John, you and I are far better off as friends.”

  After the week of the funeral service, Deirdre had doctor appointments and physical therapy sessions, and much of the time Ben drove her around town or spent afternoons encouraging her to work her damaged hip so that she would get better. When she broke down, missing her mother and terrified of the future, Ben was the one who comforted her.

  He explained all of it to Maggie, and though his reasons were good, Maggie could sense him pulling away from her. “She’s a wreck, Mag,” he told her once a few weeks after the accident. “Deirdre’s never been like this before. It’s like I’m all she has. She doesn’t want me to leave her side.”

  His words seemed to imply something, but Maggie didn’t question him. She was too busy comforting herself. Her gut told her clearly that her relationship with Ben was on shaky ground, and one month after Deirdre’s mother’s death, he called and confirmed her worst fears.

  “Mag, I don’t know how to say this … ”

  She closed her eyes and leaned against the hallway wall. Say it, Ben. Tell me it’s over.

  When she didn’t say anything, Ben continued. “Deirdre needs me … ”

  “More doctor appointments?” Maggie hated the fact that she sounded bitter. It wasn’t Deirdre’s fault her mother had died, and Ben couldn’t help the fact that he’d been friends with Deirdre all her life. Still the anger that boiled in Maggie’s heart seeped out in her words, and there seemed nothing Maggie could do to stop it.

  “No … I mean, yes, she has more doctor appointments, but that’s not it.” He sighed loud enough for her to hear. “I’m so confused right now, Mag. I think it’d be best if … ”

  The tears started then. They flooded her eyes and streamed down her face as though her heart had sprung a leak too severe for anyone to repair.

  “Maggie? Are you okay?” He knew she was crying and she hated that fact. “Maggie girl, talk to me.”

  She swallowed and did her best to sound normal. “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. Listen, Maggie, I didn’t plan any of this and neither did Deirdre. It happened. And now … ”

  “Now you’re in love with her.” It was a statement, not a question, and though the tears continued to pour from her eyes, her sinuses had not yet swollen so she sounded almost unaffected.

  Ben moaned in frustration. “No, I’m not in love with her … I mean, well … I don’t know what I am.”

  “Ben, don’t be afraid to admit the truth. You’ve spent a lot of time with her lately; it’s only normal that you two would become closer.”

  “I don’t want to lose you, Maggie. I love you. But … ”

  Here it came, the part where he would ask for time away and promise that maybe someday things would work out. From the beginning Maggie had done her best to avoid this. But here she was: completely in love with him, plans made in her mind to spend the rest of her life with him … and now he was pulling the plug. That was more than Maggie could bear.

  She grabbed a tissue and wiped at her eyes as Ben mumbled the very things Maggie had known he would say. She caught the key words. Time apart. Maybe later. Deirdre needs me. None of it was important. The relationship she and Ben had started—the one she had believed God had brought about as an answer to years of prayer—was over before it had ever really begun.

  Dr. Camas eyed Maggie thoughtfully. “You’re married to him now; is that correct?”

  “Not for long. I want a divorce.”

  There was no obvious change of expression on Dr. Camas’s face. “Really?”

  Maggie remembered the admitting nurse’s information that Orchards was a Christian facility. She hadn’t seen many overt signs of this, but there was a sense of God’s Spirit everywhere. The doctor’s question only added to that.

  “There’s more to the story. When Ben left, I figured God didn’t have someone special for me, after all. I did—” Her voice broke and tears came harder. “I did some terrible things, Doctor. Things Ben doesn’t know about.”

  Again there was no look of shock or condemnation. Instead, Dr. Camas gently patted Maggie’s hand. “I think we’ve gotten through enough for today. Maybe you’d like to tell me about that time in your life when we meet tomorrow?”

  A chill passed over Maggie and she forced back a sense of panic that suddenly threatened to overtake her. The session was over; nightfall was near. And the monsters that tortured her in the darkest hours were more tenacious than ever, reminding her exactly how worthless she was.

  “Yes, that’s fine.” She wiped her eyes once more and stood to leave.

  Outside Dr. Camas’s office the desperation was waiting for her. Help me, Lord … is this depression? What’s wrong with me? She’d heard a few of the nurses mention that she was being treated for depression and the thought appalled her. What did she have to be depressed about? She had a husband and a God who loved her. She should be filled with joy at all times, in all situations. Wasn’t that what the Bible said?

  She was halfway back to her room when she saw the little girl. The same one, with long, curly blond hair and questioning blue eyes. She was holding hands with a woman near the front desk, and Maggie stopped in her tracks. Resisting the impulse to run and take hold of the child, Maggie fell against the wall and froze in place.

  Blin
k, Maggie. Blink until she disappears. It isn’t her … it can’t be.

  The advice seemed simple enough, and she followed it willingly. Her eyes snapped shut once, twice, and on the third time the child became a dark-haired little boy. Maggie pulled in quick, short gulps of air and stared wide-eyed down the hallway toward her room. Despite the medicine and counseling and safety of Orchards Hospital, she was still out of her mind. Why else would the little girl have followed her here?

  Her entire body trembled and she felt lightheaded as she forced herself to move. You can do it, Maggie. One foot forward another … another. As she walked back to her bedroom, the place where the nightly battle with the forces of desperation would take place, she wondered for the hundredth time since coming to Orchards if there was anything anyone could do to help her escape the darkness. But even as the question came to mind she knew the answer.

  It was as clear as the image of the little girl had been moments ago.

  The feeling of doom had already consumed her, and the light—whatever light there had ever been—had been snuffed out long ago.

  12

  It was a full moon that night and Ben figured he could find Toppers Pop Bar without a map. It was in a rough part of Cleveland, where graffiti marked the vacant office buildings, and convenience stores were operated by gun-toting clerks. A neighborhood where more than the usual number of homeless people milled about or lay on bus stop benches.

  Ben spotted a used car lot that boasted, “All our cars run!” and he kept driving. Down another block he saw a cheap, 1970s-style neon sign blinking the words “Booze” and “Buds.”

  Ben took a steadying breath and pulled his car into the lot. He paused for a minute and hung his head. It’s now or never, God. He climbed out, set his car alarm, and crossed the parking lot. Inside, the bar was nearly black with only a haze of light and swirling cigarette smoke, through which the silhouettes of people could be seen. Ben waited while his eyes adjusted, then made his way to the bar.

  “Whaddya want?” The bartender was a short man with an attitude twice his size.