Within This Frame

by Zart, Lindy

  Maggie blinked and took a step back, the anger melting away as she understood what was going on. “You’re talking about you, not me.”

  Lance’s chest lifted and lowered with the force of his breathing, his expression raw and hurt. “There shouldn’t have been a chance for you to date him again, or for me to marry someone else. It should have been you. There should have been one love, one woman, one marriage. I tried to forget you, I swear I did. All I did was remember you more.”

  His words broke her at the same time they healed. Tears fell from her eyes, and she saw the shine of them in his. Maggie sniffed and wiped a hand across her face, turning her eyes to the cracked pavement below her shoes. Lance lightly touched her hand and Maggie grabbed his when he went to move away.

  “It’s weird that we were hurting each other even when we weren’t in each other’s lives,” Maggie said in a shaky voice.

  “But we were, you know we were.”

  Maggie nodded, her head lowered. She clutched Lance’s hand as if she could squeeze all of his pain away, and hers as well. “You got together with Olivia after I started dating Jeff.”

  “You moved on. I figured I had to as well.”

  A choked sound left her. “I never moved on,” she whispered. “I just . . . moved.”

  Lance removed his hand from hers. He threaded his fingers through her hair, disrupting her ponytail, and pressed his closed mouth to the crown of her head. His lips moved against her hair when he spoke in a low rumble. “I know. I never really did either.”

  She lightly rested her palms on his biceps, wanting to be closer to him, knowing that would make things more difficult for them. They naturally confessed their hearts to one another, but there was a cost to that honesty. A goodbye was imminent to their current involvement, a specified date that dictated they would go their own ways. It seemed crucial to remember that.

  “There are people watching us,” he commented, lifting his mouth from her hair.

  Maggie didn’t bother looking at their spectators. “I’m sure we’ll be in the papers again before too long.”

  “Maybe we should act like we like each other this time—or you could, you know, act like you’re madly in lust with me. Follow my lead.”

  Lance tightened his arms and moved his mouth to hers. Maggie stiffened, the thundering of her heartbeat saying she wanted him while her brain screamed that she couldn’t. She turned her head to the side, eyes down.

  “What are you doing?” Her voice was breathless.

  Lance pulled back. “Look at me.”

  Maggie wordlessly shook her head.

  “Maggie.”

  She consented without any more protestation, turning her gaze to one of unbridled blue seas. Eyes riveted to hers, Lance brought his mouth to hers. She didn’t push him away, or pretend she didn’t want it. The feel of his lips on hers was like coming home. She knew him—knew the shape, texture, and taste of him. Maggie held her palms against his cool cheeks, tears stinging her eyes at the emotion that hit her like an avalanche against doubts and reservations. He was the only man she’d ever wanted to kiss, just him, always him.

  He moved his mouth to her temple, his lips warm against her skin, and held her against him in a way that revered. Maggie felt his heart thrum against her, steady but fast. She let her eyes close to better feel him, to forget to think. Lance pressed a final kiss to her forehead, slowly moving away.

  There was strain on his face, a hint of it in the pinched corners of his mouth, a blanket of discord dulling his pretty blue eyes. Maggie watched the pulse jump at the base of his throat, saw the way his chest lifted and lowered, his hands clenched in fists. What had that kiss taken from him? And what had it given him?

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “Was the kiss too much?”

  “It . . . yes, it was.” Maggie’s eyebrows furrowed and she stopped to peer into the dark waters of the river, hugging herself. “But . . . it was also perfect, which is why it was too much.”

  In a bemused voice, she said, “I never realized.”

  “Realized what?”

  She turned her head to look at him. “That kiss hurt you, didn’t it?”

  His smile was tinged with cynicism, but it didn’t touch his eyes. “Shallow me hurt by a little thing like a kiss?”

  Maggie didn’t say anything.

  Lance rubbed his face, shoulders beaten down in a way that broke her heart. When he looked at her, his emotions were clearly exposed for her to accept, or deny. He opened up to her with a look so raw it had her doubting everything she’d thought she’d known about Lance Denton.

  “Yeah. It hurt. It hurt a lot.”

  Maggie stared at the man she knew in a way she couldn’t know the boy. Her heart was full with pain and longing and hope. And sadness, always the sadness. He watched her, allowing her perusal. She didn’t know what she searched to find, and his once again masked face kept her from seeing anything.

  “We should finish up. I have to meet with Donovan later this morning,” Lance finally said, facing the path. His voice was firm, but his hands trembled.

  “Right. Yes.” She nodded, dizzy with the recent revelations.

  They set off again, neither speaking.

  LANCE—1996

  MAGGIE NEVER ASKED why he didn’t spend Christmas with his dad, and he never supplied an explanation. His dad was never big on holidays—to him they were another day he could use for work. Over the years, Lance was rotated from one relative to the next for holidays. Sometimes his dad was with them, but most times he was not.

  He didn’t realize how abnormal that was until he went to Maggie’s home in Iowa.

  Lance didn’t realize the extent of what he was missing until then as well.

  Judith drove them from Minnesota, where they’d been skiing for two days, to the Smileys’ residence, with plans to visit friends in Wisconsin before coming back for them in three days. Virginia had snow and cold weather, but not that much snow, and not that cold of weather. It was presently below zero with the wind chill and when the car pulled up to a three-story olive green and burgundy house, there was at least five feet of snow piled up in the yard.

  Lance stared at the house. It was half the size of his, multi-colored bulbs twinkling from along the rooftop to add life to an otherwise gray-filled evening, and was surrounded by bushes that glittered silvery white with snow. That was Maggie’s house. Maggie grew up there. He swallowed.

  Maggie twisted in the front seat and smiled at him. “Don’t be nervous.”

  “I’m not nervous,” Lance was quick to tell her. She was his first real girlfriend—the first girl he’d dated that he legitimately cared for—and he was about to meet her parents. Lance was a few steps away from entering her world. His stomach was in knots and his hands shook.

  “The only one you should be nervous about is Nora. She’s not human. But my mom and dad are normal. They’re excited to meet you.”

  Lance gave her a weak smile and jumped from the car when Judith popped the trunk. The air was like breathing icicles and he shivered in his winter jacket. How did people stand to live there?

  Dressed in a long red jacket lined with fur and black boots that went up to her knees, Judith handed him his luggage and stepped back as though the thought of accidentally touching him was abhorrent to her.

  “I’m not my dad. You can stop acting like I am,” he said, turning his head to meet her gaze.

  Face pink from the brisk air, Judith’s gray eyes darkened before softening. “I know that, Lance. You are not your father,” she agreed quietly. Her tone almost seemed caring as she said, “You are much, much worse. You are your mother.”

  Her words froze him more thoroughly than the subzero weather. “Why would you say that? What did I ever do to you?” he demanded.

  “You’re too good-looking, too charming, too persuasive. No one knows how to tell you no, especially Maggie. She’d walk through fire for you if she thought it would help you in some way. You’re dangerous to her, whethe
r you intend it or not.” Judith glanced up as the passenger door opened and closed. She leaned close, gloved hand tight on his shoulder. “If you care about Maggie—”

  “I do care about her,” he interrupted brusquely, shaking off her grip and stepping back. More than he’d thought he was capable of. Judith’s words impaled him, added doubts to an already existing pile.

  Judith straightened, pushing silvery blond hair from her eyes. Her expression turned sad. “Then break up with her before it’s too late, before too much damage has been done.”

  Lance’s jaw tightened. “You’re warning me away from my own girlfriend? You should know by now that the more I’m told not to do something, the chances are I will do exactly that.”

  It was a dumb-ass thing to say, and he instantly regretted it. Not so long ago, it was true, but not with Maggie. It dirtied what Maggie was to him, put an ugly taint of wrongness on their relationship. He couldn’t stay away from Maggie because he was happier around her. She made his life better.

  He knew he’d effectively pulled off the asshole role when Judith’s skin paled and lines formed around her mouth. “You don’t care about her at all, do you? You can’t. You’re just a self-centered boy, thinking of your wants instead of the feelings of others.”

  Refusing to say another word, he watched a dark rainbow of emotions appear on the actress’s face.

  “It’s freezing out here!” Maggie bounced on the heels of her pink snow boots, face bright as she took her bag from Lance’s limp hand. A red stocking cap tramped down her waves and matching mittens cloaked her hands. In keeping with her pink and red theme, her coat was also pink.

  When no one moved or spoke, she looked from Judith to Lance, the smile falling from her face. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing,” he muttered.

  “Judith?” Maggie pressed.

  “Let’s go in before we all get sick. I can’t believe I told the Jones’ I’d visit them in Wisconsin this year. I don’t know what I was thinking,” she said, moving past them.

  With a troubled look aimed at him, Maggie trailed her part-time guardian into the house.

  Lance slowly followed.

  His first thought was that the house was warm—and not the temperature of the place, although, yeah, it was—but it was something else entirely. A television was on in a different room, laughter and loud voices came from yet another. The walls were lined with framed photographs, on and on they went, down the hall until he could no longer make them out. It was loud, and busy with every inch of space filled.

  The room directly before him had a full, thick tree that touched the ceiling with its glittering gold star, presents in varying kinds of wrapping paper resting beneath it. White lights shone from it, ornaments in different sizes and colors swayed along its branches. The heavy scent of pine told him it was a real tree. Christmas music played from a stereo system set back against a rust-toned wall.

  Lance blinked, filled with a sense of awe, and something else—something darker, and sadder.

  The house was warm with life.

  “I’m not sure where he went off to. I’ll find him and be right back,” Maggie said, her voice getting louder.

  Winter garments gone, Lance was afforded a view of her slim body clothed in jeans and a brown sweater as she approached. They’d officially been together almost two months, and they hadn’t done anything more than make out. His heart said it was enough, but his body argued, profusely, that it wouldn’t be for much longer. For someone who hadn’t given the act of sex much importance, he’d done a one-eighty since Maggie. He wanted it to be special for her. First time, first guy.

  First everything.

  Maggie smiled, and his heartbeat took off like he’d recently run miles. “What are you doing out here by yourself?” She touched his hair and kissed his cheek, turning him into an unthinking hormone. “I thought you were right behind me.”

  Lance took a deep breath, not wanting to embarrass himself with having an erection the first time he met her parents. “I got sidetracked.” He gestured to the tree.

  She laughed. “The Smiley Christmas tree can do that. Gaudy, isn’t it? I usually help decorate.” Her tone was wistful as she studied the pine tree.

  “I like it,” Lance said truthfully.

  Maggie grinned. “Everyone’s in the kitchen. There’s hot chocolate with peppermint candy canes and whipped topping. Nora fought with Mom over who got to make yours.” Her eyes danced as she looked at him.

  “Great.” He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “The madness has already begun.”

  “I warned you it wouldn’t be pretty. What do you expect when you’re a super cute actor? Even my mom has a crush on you.” she teased, tugging at his coat. “Let me put this away in the closet. You can take off your boots. And I’ll show you my room after you meet my family, which will be your room while we’re here.”

  “Are you sharing it with me?” he asked, stepping close as she turned from putting his coat and gloves in the closet.

  She bumped into him, her breasts brushing across his chest and sending his body into turmoil once more. It didn’t take much to get him excited around Maggie. A blush stained Maggie’s cheeks. She stared at Lance, longing scorching her face. It was palpable, thick. He felt it like it was his own.

  “No,” she choked out. She cleared her throat and started walking away. “I’ll be in Nora’s room with her.”

  “That is the saddest news I’ve heard all day.”

  “For both of us,” Maggie agreed.

  When Maggie’s mom hugged him without hesitation, Lance’s throat tightened. She was petite with brown hair and had Maggie’s reddish-brown eyes. She looked too young to have teenage daughters. Jennifer Smiley smelled like sugar cookies, exactly how he pictured his own mom in his more sentimental fantasies.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked, rubbing a circle onto his back. The affectionate touch made his throat close up more. “I made meatloaf, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, and rolls. I baked cookies too. We all ate, but we saved some for you, Maggie, and Judith.”

  “Lance is always hungry,” Maggie told her mom.

  “Oh. I can’t stay, Jennifer. My friends are expecting me yet tonight, and I still have two hours to drive,” Judith said from across the room. “But thank you. I appreciate the gesture.”

  “Are you sure?” Jennifer stepped back from Lance, silently offering him a red cup of hot cocoa even as her eyes were on Judith.

  Judith smiled tightly, her gaze locked with Lance’s. “I’m sure. I’ll be back on the 26th. Have fun. And behave.”

  That was directed specifically at him. He smirked, raising his cup in a salute before tasting the drink. It was delicious, the blend of chocolate and peppermint surprisingly good.

  Her eyes narrowed and she said her goodbyes to the Smileys, giving Maggie an especially long hug. “I’ll see you soon. Merry Christmas, Maggie.”

  “Merry Christmas, Judith. Have a great time. Drive safe,” Maggie told her when they pulled apart.

  With a final farewell, Judith left.

  “I’ll get you guys some food,” Maggie’s mom offered again.

  Lance lifted his eyebrows at Maggie. When she shrugged, he turned to Jennifer. “Thank you. That would be nice. Maggie was right—I am always hungry.”

  “Maggie looks like she needs to eat,” a redhead muttered from where she sat at the table, a scowl making her otherwise pretty face unattractive. She continually glanced at Lance, like she didn’t want to stare but couldn’t help it.

  “I think you look great,” a man with dark brown hair peppered with gray told Maggie, hugging her to his side. He wore glasses and had a mustache, his green eyes intelligent and locked on Lance.

  “Thanks, Dad. Dad, this is Lance. Lance, this is my dad, Leon Smiley.” Maggie wouldn’t look at anyone as she made the introductions and her shoulders were down instead of straight.

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Smiley,” Lance said, shaking his hand.

&
nbsp; “And you. I’ve heard a lot about you. Many times. More than was necessary,” he added as Maggie groaned beside him.

  “Dad!”

  “What? It’s true.”

  “That doesn’t mean you have to tell everyone,” she hissed in a loud whisper.

  “It’s family, Maggie.”

  Leon gave Lance’s hand a hard squeeze, staring into his eyes the way Lance imagined any father would when meeting their daughter’s boyfriend for the first time. There was wariness in his gaze, a warning, and indecisiveness. He wasn’t sure about Lance, and Lance respected the clear protectiveness he held for Maggie.

  Lance looked at the redhead, knowing Maggie’s brief glumness had to do with her earlier comment. Taking his attention on her as a cue to introduce herself, she stood with a wide smile and glided toward him. Her body was long and thin, the black top and jeans she wore fitted to her frame in a way that made her clothes seem invisible.

  “I’m Nora, Maggie’s older sister.” She stood close enough that her flowery perfume assailed his nostrils. “I’m nineteen and go to college. You’re seventeen, right?”

  Before Lance could answer, the doorbell rang. Nora straightened, an expectant look taking over the calculating one, and flounced from the room, calling, “That must be Hank! ‘Bye!”

  “Sorry about Nora. Sometimes we’re not sure where she came from,” Jennifer told him.

  Lance looked at Maggie and her eyes slid away from his. His hands fisted with the need to touch her.

  Leon cleared his throat. “There’s a documentary on the moon I wanted to watch tonight. Come talk with me for a bit after you’ve eaten,” he said to Maggie.

  She nodded, trying to smile. “I will definitely do that.”

  “I’ll warm up your food and skedaddle. I have some papers I want to finish grading before tomorrow. You know teachers, always ready with the red pen of doom,” Maggie’s mom said, also picking up on the tension.

  Neither spoke as she bustled around the forest green room, Maggie moving to help her after a brief pause. Lance looked around as they readied their plates. The kitchen was as packed with miscellaneous items as the other room he’d seen. Pictures and artwork, sayings and furniture, all lined the walls. It should have looked tacky, but it looked homey. Lance envied their reality. Their lives were stuffed full of things while his remained empty.