Maggie's Turn

by Deanna Lynn Sletten

  Fear suddenly overtook her. The photo wasn’t of her, but what if Andrew had reported her missing? The idea had never even occurred to her until now, and she admonished herself for not calling her family sooner, a rare lapse in her good judgment. She grabbed her cell phone and turned it on. How could she have been so selfish? It was so unlike her. Of course they’d wonder where she was. She’d been so caught up in her unplanned escape that she’d forgotten everyone but herself. She quickly punched in the number for home.

  Andrew answered on the second ring. “Hello.”

  “Hi, Andrew.”

  “Maggie.” Andrew gave a relieved sigh. “Where are you? Are you okay? We’ve been trying to find you.”

  His questions came all in a rush, and Maggie felt deeply guilty as she heard the concern in her husband’s voice. She took a deep breath, controlling her own emotions as she answered.

  “I’m fine. Everything is okay,” she told him. “I’m sorry I worried everyone. I should have called sooner.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Andrew said, the concern now gone and replaced by a tone Maggie knew all too well—sarcasm.

  Maggie tensed. Nothing had changed.

  “You had the kids worried,” Andrew continued tightly. “Where the hell are you?”

  Again, guilt flooded through her at the mention of the kids, but Maggie hesitated before answering him. She didn’t want to reveal where she was. Andrew’s tone had brought back all the unhappiness she’d felt over the past few years. He sounded like the same old Andrew—more annoyed with her than concerned. She couldn’t go back to that. In that instant, she realized she needed more time.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again, almost automatically. Gone was the carefree woman who had driven away yesterday, on a whim, from her problems. Back was the old Maggie, feeling small and lacking control of her own life.

  “When are you coming home?” Andrew asked, his voice insistent.

  Maggie sat on the bed in her room, looking at the furniture from a time long past, a time when life was simpler, less complicated. She couldn’t go home yet—that she knew for certain. The kids would be fine without her for a while. Kyle was an adult, even if he didn’t always act like one, and Kaia was as strong-willed as her father. Besides, it was time for Andrew to step up and spend time with his children.

  “Maggie,” Andrew said, sounding irritated.

  “I don’t know,” Maggie answered. “I only know that I’m not coming home yet.”

  There was a long pause at the other end as Maggie waited for Andrew’s response. Everything suddenly became clear to her. She needed time away, time to rejuvenate after the past two years, and time to sort out her life after twenty-three years of marriage. Why else would she have driven off without a second thought? Self-preservation. Her mind, body, and soul had finally said enough, and she planned to listen to them more closely now.

  “Maggie, what is this all about?” Andrew asked.

  Maggie sighed. How could she explain to someone who thought the world should run on a timely, orderly schedule that she just couldn’t do it anymore? His world consisted of his job, his meetings, and his activities. He expected his daily schedule to dictate the lives around him. Wasn’t that why Maggie worked part-time instead of pursuing her own dream job? To be there for him? To cook his dinner so he could go to his meetings? To run the house and oversee the children? No, he just wouldn’t understand.

  Maggie didn’t want to get into a fight about their many problems tonight. Andrew was angry enough as it was. “I just need some time to myself. I need to get away for a while. That’s all.”

  Andrew snorted. “Time to yourself? Get away for a while? Isn’t it enough that you’ve been back and forth to Seattle several times these past two years? How much time away do you need?”

  Maggie cringed. How could he consider what she’d gone through the past two years as time off?

  “That’s not fair, and you know it,” she said sharply. “I was handling family matters then. I wasn’t on vacation.”

  “Well, you need to handle family matters here. The kids need someone home, and you know how busy I am with work and my other commitments. So it’s time to turn yourself around and head back here from wherever you are,” Andrew insisted.

  Maggie sighed and shook her head. Sighing seemed to come naturally to her when she talked to her husband. “The kids will be fine. They’re old enough to take care of themselves as long as you pay some attention to what they’re doing. And I know you’re quite capable of taking care of things around the house. I’m just not ready to come home yet, Andrew.”

  Another long pause hung in the air as Maggie waited for Andrew’s response.

  “If you won’t come back on your own, I can stop you, you know,” Andrew finally said. “I can cancel the credit cards and close the checking account. Without money, you’ll have to turn around and come back.”

  Maggie shook her head sadly. Money was always a big issue with Andrew. “I have my own money, remember? My own checking account and my own credit card. You were the one who insisted we separate our money a few years ago when you accused me of wasting it on unnecessary stuff for the kids. The family checkbook is on the dresser, where it always is when I’m not using it. I’m only spending what I’ve earned, not your money. Besides, there’s the money my dad left me, too, so there’s not much you can do.”

  In the ensuing silence, Maggie thought back to that day when Andrew insisted they have separate accounts. Kyle was ten years old, and she’d bought him a pair of cowboy boots that he’d begged her for. They weren’t expensive boots, just cheap knockoffs, but Andrew was furious that she’d spent money on boots that Kyle would outgrow in a matter of months. When she’d reminded him that she earned money for the family, too, he’d become indignant and told her if she wanted to waste her “little paycheck” on junk, that was her business, but she wasn’t to waste the family money. She opened her own account the next day, and their shared account was used only for household bills, necessary clothing and items for the kids, and groceries.

  “Maggie, is this your revenge for what happened last year?” Andrew asked in a softer tone.

  Maggie drew a sharp breath. She hadn’t expected this, not in this tone, not at all. Revenge? Is that what her running away was all about? She hadn’t really thought of her escape like that, but maybe it was.

  “I don’t know,” she replied honestly. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. Maybe. I really can’t say.”

  “I thought we were past that,” Andrew said, sounding irritated again. “I thought we were okay now.”

  Okay? Did he really believe after all she’d been through—they’d been through—everything was okay? She realized at that moment just how disconnected he’d been from her all along.

  “Everything isn’t okay, Andrew. I need some time to figure out why I’m not okay.” She sat in silence for a moment, collecting her thoughts, but when there was no response on the other end of the line, she decided they’d said enough for one night.

  “Tell the kids I love them, and I’ll be home soon. I’ll call you again and let you know where I am. Good-bye, Andrew.”

  The connection clicked off before Andrew could say another word. He lay quietly on the bed for a moment, digesting all that Maggie had said. His eyes went to the checkbook on the top of their dresser. The money threat hadn’t worked, but she couldn’t possibly have enough money in her own account to gallivant around the country for very long. Or could she? He was shocked to realize he had no idea how much money she earned—even more so when he racked his brain and realized that he’d never even asked her how much money her dad had left her. He’d figured it hadn’t been very much and hadn’t given the amount another thought. Now, he wished he’d paid more attention to the family finances. He knew how much he earned, but he’d left the bill paying to Maggie. Anything extra she bought came out of he
r checking account. Maggie also took care of the taxes each year. He’d been so wrapped up in his own ambitions, he hadn’t paid attention to details.

  As he lay alone on their bed in the dark, quiet house, he wondered exactly where he’d gone wrong.

  Maggie lay in her hotel-room bed, fuming. Her conversation with Andrew had brought back all the emotions of the past two years. If she had needed a good reason for fleeing, he had given it to her by making those stupid remarks and reminding her of his past behavior.

  How could he possibly have insinuated her trips to Seattle were vacations? If he thought planning funerals and attending to family matters were vacations, he was an insensitive jerk.

  Maggie’s thoughts drifted back over the past two years. Her father had been very ill for a long time. He had breathing difficulties, a result of being a two-pack-a-day smoker for his entire adult life. Her sister, Amy, was still living in Seattle near their father, and, being single, she was able to spend time caring for him. Maggie did what she could from a distance, but she knew it wasn’t nearly enough and always felt guilty about being absent. But she had her own family to care for and couldn’t run back and forth across the country to be there. It wasn’t until her father was dying from emphysema that she made the trip there to help Amy and spend the final days with her dad. It had been a heartbreaking three weeks, watching him slowly fade away. Maggie then helped Amy go through his belongings and sell the house he’d lived in since he’d been stationed there years before. Amy didn’t want the house and all its responsibilities, which turned out to be a smart choice since a year later, she was diagnosed with breast cancer and couldn’t have looked after it.

  Maggie’s second trip was even worse than the first. This time, she watched her sister die and had to pack up Amy’s apartment all by herself. Andrew hadn’t offered to join her or help her on either trip. He was too busy with work and his committee responsibilities, and he thought it best for her to go alone. At the time, Maggie tried not to resent his absence. She also tried to justify to herself that it was best for the family that he stay behind. As time went by, she realized that he hadn’t accompanied her to Seattle out of selfishness, and it upset her that she’d let him get away with it. Her disgust for him grew deeper when she’d learned what he’d been doing while she was away.

  Maggie brushed that depressing thought away. She focused instead on tomorrow’s ride to Rushmore with Wild Bill. She wasn’t going to let Andrew ruin her fun. He’d already done enough to make her feel miserable, and she wasn’t going to let him spoil her newfound happiness anymore.

  CHAPTER SIX

  It had never occurred to Maggie to argue with the men in her life. It wasn’t that she had no backbone—she’d just never seen the need to use conflict to get her way. She resolved conflicts by either agreeing or quietly going about her business and doing things her way. Conflict was too hard to live with, anger too strong an emotion for her to deal with.

  It had started when she was a small child. Her father was in the navy, a lifer, and he expected his home life to run as orderly as his work did. His word was law, and Maggie and her younger sister, Amy, would have never thought to question his authority. Not that he was unkind in any way. He adored his daughters, and even on his small salary, he spoiled them whenever he could. But his disapproval would have devastated them, so they sought to make life at home run as seamlessly as they could. Besides, there had been enough conflict, fighting, and tears in the household before their mother left them to last Maggie a lifetime.

  The first five years of Maggie’s life had been a roller coaster of emotions, and she was still deeply scarred by her mother’s constant complaints and fits of tears. Her mother had grown to hate being a navy wife. She hated moving from base to base, hated the low income and the strict rules and expectations. So one night, when Maggie was five and Amy was three, their mother disappeared from the base housing where they lived in Florida, leaving no note, no explanation, and no good-byes. After finding out his wife had left him, Maggie’s father never spoke of her again. The girls followed suit, but the pain of their mother’s absence had remained with them throughout their lives. The family eventually moved on, first to a base in Texas, next to one in Southern California, then finally returning home to Seattle. Five years after her mother left, they learned that she’d died in a car accident in Florida.

  From the day her mother abandoned them, five-year-old Maggie set out to make sure her father and sister were happy. Even though her father hired a woman to come in to watch the girls and do housework, Maggie soon took over as much of her father’s and sister’s care as she could. She became the nurturer, the good daughter, the good sister, the good student—and eventually, the good wife and mother. And she’d been doing it ever since.

  Her years in college had freed her of all her responsibilities, and she’d enjoyed shedding her caretaker persona for a more carefree lifestyle. Andrew had fallen in love with the devil-may-care Maggie, but somehow, after they’d married, she’d slowly turned back into the pleaser.

  At first, Andrew seemed to appreciate Maggie’s willingness to please, but slowly things changed. Through the years, he’d started taking advantage of her willingness to take on all the household and child-rearing responsibilities. After a time, he just checked out of their lives completely, always too busy with work or commitments to spend time with his family. Maggie realized she may have been partially to blame for this happening. She’d let it happen rather than confronting him as soon as she’d noticed what he was doing. Maybe, if she’d insisted he pay attention then, things between them would be different now. Or maybe not.

  After a restless night, Maggie awoke early and was dressed and down on the sidewalk in front of the hotel just as Wild Bill rode up on his bike. Bill pulled off his helmet and let out a whistle when he saw Maggie.

  “Why, Calamity Jane, don’t you look a sight in all that leather?” he exclaimed, making Maggie actually blush. She had purchased the outfit the day before in one of the many leather shops on Main Street. She wore black-leather chaps over a pair of Levi’s, a fitted leather jacket that zipped in front, and a pair of low-heeled ankle boots. It had cost her a small fortune, but she had so much fun buying the clothes, it was worth it. Never in her life had she thought she’d own riding leathers.

  “You don’t look too bad yourself, Wild Bill,” Maggie told him. He was also dressed in black leather, but his was soft and worn from use. Like a pirate, he had a red bandanna tied over his long hair, to keep it out of his eyes and under his helmet. He looked dangerous and sexy—no one would ever have guessed he was a history teacher from Salt Lake City. His Harley-Davidson was a looker, too. All metallic black and silver chrome gleaming to perfection. The handlebars were long, and the leather seat was raised in back with a medium-length sissy bar attached. Black-leather saddlebags hung on each side near the back, decorated with silver tabs and black fringe.

  “This is for you, m’lady,” Bill said as he reached behind him and took an extra helmet off the sissy bar. Maggie accepted the helmet and slipped it on her head—a perfect fit. After stowing her camera in one of the saddlebags, she slid behind Bill on the raised seat, slipped her arms around his waist—the only place to hang on—and off they went.

  The morning air was cool, as Bill had predicted. As they sped along Highway 385 toward Keystone, Maggie was happy she had the leathers on. They kept her warm as the bike maneuvered the curvy mountain road. She viewed the scenery through the helmet’s tinted visor as if for the first time. She had visited Mount Rushmore years before with her father and sister, but a ride through the mountains in a station wagon didn’t compare to this. The open air, the smell of pine trees, and the feel of the bike between her legs were exhilarating. She almost laughed at that last thought. But it was true. Hugging a man she barely knew and being pressed against his back as they sailed along an asphalt river made her feel alive again. Womanly, even in all this leather. The excitemen
t of a new adventure and the allure of spending time with a man who actually wanted her company were invigorating. She felt refreshed and revived for the first time in years, and Maggie absorbed it all, hoping to retain this carefree feeling long after the ride was over.

  As they continued up the mountain road, Maggie tried to imagine Andrew maneuvering this bike as she held on behind him. She couldn’t. He had lost all sense of adventure years ago.

  They passed under the arched wooden bridge that Maggie remembered from long ago. As they continued up along the curves, she caught a glimpse of Washington’s stone profile high above on their right. She tapped Bill’s shoulder, gesturing for him to pull over. He did, and she took several pictures of the president’s profile and of the surrounding trees and valley below. Maggie was as excited as a child at Christmas, and Bill laughed at her obvious enthusiasm.

  From there, they hopped on the bike and continued on to their destination. They pulled up to the gates, paid the entrance fee, and headed to the parking structure. Once parked and off the bike, Bill noticed the frown on Maggie’s face as she lifted the helmet from her head and shook out her hair.

  “Something the matter, Calamity?” he asked lightheartedly.

  Maggie pursed her lips. “I don’t remember having to pay to see the monument before,” she said. Her eyes assessed the parking ramp. “There also wasn’t a parking structure. The last time I was here, it was all outdoor parking.”

  Wild Bill hung his helmet over the handlebars and smiled. “You haven’t been here in a long time, I take it. Wait till you see what else is new.”

  Maggie grunted.

  Bill suggested they take their leathers off and stow them in the saddlebags since the day was warming up. Clad in a yellow T-shirt and jeans, her camera hanging from around her neck, Maggie walked with him toward the monument.