by Marcia Ware
With one arm still around her waist, Joe reached up and grabbed Maggie’s other hand. He led her in a silent waltz, his eyes never leaving hers as the emotion between them grew steadily.
As he twirled her around, Maggie laughed her intoxicating laugh. He smiled as he drew her back into his arms.
Joe realized that this was the moment: The crossroads he’d both feared and fantasized. If he didn’t do something now, he might never have the nerve to ever try again. And that was something he couldn’t bear to imagine.
His heart practically bursting through his ribcage, Joe lifted his hands to her face, leading her to the point of no return.
Tentative at first, within the next few heartbeats, Joe and Maggie felt their self-consciousness dissolve. His hands in her hair, her arms under his, Maggie clung to Joe as they drank deeply from this well that they’d discovered together; never realizing until that moment how desperately thirsty they both were.
She felt a tear of longing roll down her cheek. This kiss was affecting her, body and soul. It was an awakening, a gift and a miracle…happening to the two of them in a season that is full of such things.
Suddenly, a gust of wind hit them both - a chill that brought with it a familiar shadow moving past. The realization made itself heard:
This is my best friend’s husband…
This is my wife’s best friend…
“Oh no!” Maggie cried as she pushed herself away.
“Maggie…” Joe began.
Her hand moved to her mouth, the flesh of her lips still vibrating from his kiss. “I’m so sorry, Joe. I don’t know what came over me…”
“No, Maggie, it was me. I stepped over the line…”
“I’ve got to go.”
“Maggie, wait!”
“Joe, I can’t…I’m sorry! Good night!”
He stood in the drive until the red of her tail lights disappeared around the bend into the night. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to compartmentalize his fear, guilt and desire to make some sense of what had just happened.
It was the sound of the telephone in the distance that moved him from his frozen state. Reaching it on the last ring before it was lost to voice mail, he answered, slightly breathless.
“A little late to be running a marathon, isn’t it?”
Joe looked down at the caller ID. It was Sissy.
He tried to sound cheerful. “Hey there-how’s girls’ weekend going?”
“Great! Gwennie’s sacked out next to me here on the couch. You okay?”
His mind still in the driveway, still kissing Maggie, Joe didn’t answer right away.
“Joey? You okay?”
“Sorry, Sis. Yeah, I’m good. It’s been a long day buried in papers.”
“Have you even eaten? Do you need anything?”
“I did. Maggie came by, and we went out for a while.”
Sissy closed her eyes in disgust and softly drew in her breath before saying, “You and Maggie again, huh?”
Still distracted, he didn’t pick up on what she was trying to convey. “Uh huh,” he said. “We went downtown to hear a friend of hers sing. It was good.”
Silent for a few seconds before deciding to speak her mind, Sissy finally managed to ask, “Is there something we should know about you two?”
Joe finally heard the direction in which she was driving the conversation. “Maggie and I have been friends for years, Sis. You know that.”
“Friends, sure…but all of this time she’s been spending over there when she’s not out singing, then she broke up with that guy she was seeing. I’m simply saying it feels a little suspect.”
An exasperated sigh. “‘Suspect,’ Sissy?”
She knew she was on potentially shaky ground. She tried to choose her words carefully.
“I know it’s been nearly two years since Gracie, um, well, I just don’t want to see you get caught up in some big emotional thing.”
The conflict that waged within him over the kiss, combined with Sissy’s inquisition and his general fatigue was more than he could handle at that moment. Leaning against the wall, he shut his eyes as she continued her complaint.
“What I’m trying to say is, as your family…as someone who cares about you…as the sister of your wife, I feel as though it’s my responsibility to…”
“First of all, Gwyneth,” Joe interjected. “As the sister of my wife, you are fulfilling your responsibility by extending the love and care that you’ve given to the kids and me since Grace passed away.”
The button had been pushed. She knew she had gone too far. Joe never called her by her Christian name. She began to try and justify her concerns. “Yes, but…”
“Secondly, as I mentioned before, Maggie has been a daily fixture in my world for nearly twenty years. We’ve always been close, always been able to communicate well with one another. I don’t know if things are changing. I’m not really able to understand it all right now. But even if I did, I owe you absolutely, positively no explanation. Are we clear?”
Sissy sat silently, gazing down at Gwen, who continued to sleep on the couch beside her. Finally, she managed to say, “Crystal. I’m sorry Joe. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Oh, I’m sorry too,” he said, running his free hand through his hair. “This has been a long day, and I think my mental hard drive is full.”
“Time to reboot?” she said with compassion.
Joe stretched and yawned. “You know it.”
Sissy chuckled. “You know, the reason I called was just to see if you needed anything. I simply wanted to check up on you. Sorry that it turned into something tense.”
“Listen Sis, Maggie and me…we’re friends. She’s been there for me through the darkest time of my life. I think the world of her. I believe in her. She’s a good person. But don’t read too much into anything…” He stopped before he found himself in a lie. Then he said, “I loved Grace. I always will. But I’m just now getting my arms around the fact that I am a single man again. It is not my intention to get involved in some ‘big emotional thing,’ as you put it, with anyone at this point.”
Despite the sinking feeling he was experiencing at that moment over Maggie, it was as honest as he knew to be. And it was enough to lift the cloud from Sissy’s spirit immediately.
“Thanks for calling, hon,” he said. I’m gonna head to bed now. Take care of my little girl, and have fun tomorrow.”
“No problem, Joey. Thanks for entrusting her to me. G’night.”
Bending down to unplug the Christmas tree lights before heading to bed, Joe saw his gift from Maggie. His curiosity got the better of him; he grabbed it and took it with him to his room. He placed the box on the edge of the bed and proceeded to pace back and forth; periodically picking it up, and then putting it back down. After several minutes’ deliberation, he drew in a breath and exhaled slowly, his fingers mid-rake through his hair.
The thoughts came with lightening speed: The magic of the evening at Sambuca, the kiss, the argument…the contents of that confounded box. He chose to ignore his stress and headed to the shower.
Emerging from the bathroom, Joe chuckled at the box’s solitary state at the edge of the bed; almost as if it were patiently waiting for his return. Annoyed by his own childish behavior, he made a direct line for the box and tore it open. For Pete’s sake, what is the big deal? he scolded himself as he removed the satin ribbon and the lid in one smooth motion.
Joe lifted the sterling silver bracelet from the box, and immediately put it on. It looked good on his arm.
“Really good taste, Mags,” he said softly.
Discarding the paper and bow, he picked up the box and placed it on the nightstand. A small piece of paper that had been stuck to the inside of the lid of the box floated quietly to the floor. Joe picked it up and read what Maggie had written:
Everything comes full circle
It falls together in the end
The unshakable truth that saved my life
Is that
you are my best friend
So I’m gonna run straight to ya
Wind at my back face toward the sun
Step inside my circle
‘Cause something wonderful has begun.
He read and re-read the lyrics, remembering a moment not so long ago when Maggie had sung those very words from the piano downstairs. Had she been writing about him all this time?
He then placed the paper on top of the box, and reclined on a stack of pillows on the bed. Staring at the chain on his wrist, he spent the rest of the night counting the potential cost of taking one such step inside that circle.
Chapter 3
Sleep didn’t come easily for Maggie that night, either. Developing feelings for a man who had been such a stalwart friend to her over the years seemed unthinkable. Kissing him? Even further from the scope of her reality.
From the outside looking in, the road couldn’t have led to any other place. Joe and Maggie were inexorably bound together...by friendship, by his children…ultimately, by Grace. And in Maggie’s mind this was not the way to honor her memory.
She groaned in agony as she pulled a pillow over her head, berating herself for being so transparent so soon.
“What in the world have I done?”
Still unable to sleep at 3 am, she went downstairs for a drink of water. Vacillating between guilt and euphoria, Maggie sat in her favorite spot on the couch and stared out the window. It was all still fresh in the forefront of her mind: the pressure of Joe’s caress around her torso; his lips on hers. Tears mixed with girlish laughter at the memory of holding his hand, dancing in the dark and his otherworldly embrace.
It was then that Maggie remembered the box. Her Christmas present from Joe was still in her car. Barefoot, she carefully tip-toed to the passenger side and retrieved it.
Maggie laughed aloud when she saw the familiar name of the department store emblazoned across the top. It was the same store where she’d purchased Joe’s wrist chain.
“Apparently great minds think alike,” she said.
Inside the box was a necklace: Several tear-shaped onyx with tiny rhinestones around their edges, connected to a rhinestone strand with earrings to match. She picked it up and gasped in appreciation as the light from outside her window brought a brilliance to the stones.
There was also a small card that read,
Just because you’re not famous yet doesn’t mean you can’t dress the superstar’s part. Shine on, Maggie. Your day in the sun is coming.
Merry Christmas
Love, Joe.
Maggie warmed at the thought of him searching from store to store; perhaps getting help from Gwen or even his mother, not resting until he found just the right gift. Although it was costume, the necklace and earrings symbolized much more than monetary value.
Maggie knew this in her heart of hearts, and that alone made it priceless to her.
Chapter 4
Maggie might appear to be the picture of professionalism behind the microphone, but on the inside, her nerves were waging war. After two hours in the studio, Joe had yet to arrive. She decided that perhaps his fear had gotten the better of him and he decided to stay away.
Despite her initial remorse over the kiss she still wanted to see him, to thank him for his indescribably beautiful gift; to see if perhaps what the two of them experienced the night before could lead to somewhere wonderful.
It seemed as though for the first time in her life, Maggie was experiencing true affection for someone in earnest. For the first time in her life, if she could wade through the murky waters of guilt, maybe she could actually feel something incredibly close to hope.
Maybe…
Darla studied Maggie during a break as she watched her friend absentmindedly put one too many packets of artificial sweetener in her tea.
“Okay,” she said, taking the Styrofoam cup from Maggie’s hand. “You can’t sing if you’re drinking syrup, sweetheart. What’s going on?”
“Huh? Oh, nothing. I was just…um…” Maggie said, still distracted.
Darla knew it was something, but decided to proceed with caution. “Hmmm…well, looks like we’re going back in, so let me just dump this cup out, and get you some real tea.”
Maggie looked at the six blue paper packets in her hand and realized what she’d done.
“Oh wow, gosh. Thanks,” she said softly, handing everything over to Darla.
“Sweetie, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this,” Darla said. “What’s going on?”
Maggie let out a heavy sigh. A tear began to form and fall over her lower lash. “I had the best and worst night of my life last night.”
Darla looked over Maggie’s shoulder to gauge how much time they had before Charles began barking at the stragglers. She decided they had a moment to spare. Maggie looked into Darla’s face while wiping away the errant tear. “Wanna talk about it on the way to the airport later?” Darla asked.
Maggie sniffed and smiled. “Sure.”
“Good-because if it’s enough to work you up like this, then there have got to be some seriously juicy details involved,” Darla cracked.
Maggie chuckled. “Girl, please,” she said.
“Alright people,” Charles was heard to say from somewhere down the hall. “Let’s hop to it. Time is money!”
Both Maggie and Darla mouthed “Time is Money” at the exact same time that Charles had said it. Arm in arm, they laughed and made their way back to the recording booth.
Joe felt the same nervousness in his own stomach as he made his way down the corridor to the room where Maggie was working. For the longest time, he sat in his car, wrestling with whether or not he should go inside. But as he looked down at the chain on his wrist, he knew there was no way he couldn’t be there. He couldn’t let her leave town without at the very least confronting the situation that lay before them.
On the one hand, he was scared that Sissy was right. Perhaps was too soon after Grace’s death for him to get into some “big emotional thing.” Maybe this would be too much for the families to take: The Hammonds seeing their daughter being replaced…by her best friend, of all people. Sure, the children love her, but to see her in any role other than Aunt Maggie? He was acutely aware of the fact that they might not be able to get their young minds around it.
On the other hand, for the first time since Grace’s death Joe couldn’t escape the fact that he was starting to feel an intense healing. And there was no denying Maggie’s presence played an enormous role in that. For the first time in a long while, he felt a sense of virility and vitality that he thought had been buried with his wife.
Maybe it was too soon to call it love; but maybe it was, in fact, the perfect time to discover exactly what it just might be.
Maybe…
He followed the music down a narrow hallway then down some stairs to a large, dimly lit room that was dominated by a massive sound board. Tweaking knobs and subtly adjusting levers, Charles turned from his work to acknowledge Joe’s entrance and shake his hand. He offered Joe an available chair in a back corner as he whispered, “We’re just about done; you almost missed it.”
Joe smiled and nodded as he took his seat. There were several others in the room, including a man who sat next to Charles at the board. Periodically, the two would lean their heads toward one another to converse, but everyone else in the room was silent.
On the other side of an enormous window that stretched from floor to ceiling, Joe saw three men, and three women, including Maggie. They stood in groups of two in front of three separate microphones. Some had headphones covering both ears; some had one ear covered and the other exposed. They sat on stools or stood on tattered Oriental rugs that spread over hardwood floors.
Rich, thick fabric that served both acoustic and aesthetic purposes hung from sections of the colorful walls and vaulted ceiling. Antique wraught iron candelabras stood in various parts of the room to provide a soothing ambiance.
The singers’ harmonies were glorious as th
ey wrapped around Deana’s simple scratch vocals. Joe marveled at how the engineers could simply push a button and in a moment’s time, anything that might have been sung incorrectly was erased in a seamless transition. He was amazed at how they could perform the same passages over and over again in order to create the sound of a choir three times their size.
Caught up in the shared excitement of the control room, Joe found himself smiling broadly, and he nearly applauded at the song’s triumphant conclusion.
“Alright guys and gals, that was fantastic,” said Charles. “That’s gonna do it for everybody but Maggie. I want to do some quick ad-libs on this last song.”
The other singers exited the room and left Maggie alone at her microphone. “Okay, hon,” said Charles, “I don’t need to tell you a thing. We’re gonna roll the track, and you just do what you do.”
The music began, and Maggie closed her eyes. Five seconds into her take, Maggie was able to cast off any constraints of tension she might have felt. She was home, completely in her element. As the sounds emerged whole and full from her throat, the entire room unleashed a symphony of sounds that signified the one fact that was never in doubt: Maggie was a true phenomenon.
Placing embellishments wherever she felt appropriate, building from soft, yet passionate tones to huge, gospel-infused bombast, the “ride” that Joe once described as Maggie’s voice was taking everyone in that room to heights and depths that left them breathless.
Joe watched as she commandeered the journey. His heart warmed not only by what he was hearing but also by the beautiful vessel from which it came, Joe felt a sudden rush of inspiration.
Quietly making his way back to the hallway, he asked an abundantly tattooed young man where he could find Darla Dayton. The kid pointed behind him to the smaller of two women leaning against the wall engaged in light conversation.
