Magic of the Heart

by C. J. Harte

  The garage door opening stopped further ruminations. Maggie sat on the couch and pretended to read.

  From the look on Susan’s face, Maggie could tell that something was bothering her, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what it was. For one brief moment she wondered if Susan could read her mind.

  “I didn’t realize you were interested in financial management.”

  Maggie blushed, realizing she had picked up one of Susan’s professional journals. No wonder the thing was so damn boring. Chagrined, she replied, “Actually, I was looking for any prurient pictures.”

  “It might help if you turned the magazine upright.” Susan laughed and joined Maggie on the couch. They sat for a few moments, enjoying the quiet. Finally, Susan turned and faced Maggie. “I need to offer some apologies”—she paused to gather courage—“and some explanations.”

  Maggie sat back and decided to, for once, be quiet.

  “I’m not ashamed of being a lesbian. I’ve had such mixed feelings about sexuality…about sex, period. There are some things that I’m just slow at. I see twenty-year-olds who are so confident and proud. I wasn’t, but I’m getting there.”

  Susan stopped, poured herself a glass of wine, and took a sip to regain her faltering courage. “When I…when I…” She took another sip and continued. “When I kissed you, I was out of line. I’ve never done anything like that. I’m not sure…” Susan could no longer look at Maggie. She focused instead on the glass of wine in her hands. “All evening, actually all week, I was afraid that you were going to just pick up and leave. I’m sorry. I’d understand if you do want to leave. I’ll even drive you wherever you wanted to go. I promise nothing will happen. I promise.”

  Tears filled the corner of Susan’s eyes. Maggie was torn between the desire to trust and the need to protect herself. She took Susan’s hand. “You don’t need to apologize. If I felt uncomfortable with you, I would have told you. But I don’t.” The next words were more difficult. Realizing that Susan was becoming important to her, she wanted to take a risk, yet years of self-preservation had taught the lesson of caution well. “As for our kissing, Susan, I…” Now Maggie had to choose her words carefully. “I…I think I wanted that kiss. I do want us to be friends.”

  Susan reached for Maggie’s hand. “Thank you. I’ve been driving myself crazy. I do that sometimes. My mom tells me I need to think more positively.” Susan paused, gathering courage. “I’m not very good at personal relationships. I’ve never had very many friends, much less…” She hesitated. She had never talked about anything this personal with anyone other than her sister. “I don’t have a lot of experience with romantic relationships.” She laughed at her comment, “I have little or no experience. One failed marriage and one failed lesbian relationship. Guess I’m still in the novice category.” Susan felt her face turn red.

  Maggie grabbed Susan’s hand with both of hers. “I’ve never been good with any kind of relationships, whether work, social, or personal. Derek has been my only friend for as long as I can remember.” Maggie swallowed hard as she realized she was on unfamiliar ground. “I know this. Right now, more than anything, I want to get to know you better. I’m not very good at this kind of thing, so I may make some mistakes.”

  Already Maggie knew the road ahead was littered with complications. She wasn’t even sure she knew what she expected from Susan, or what Susan was willing to give. She just knew Susan was different. Susan liked her as Maggie, human being, not rock star, not wealthy woman, just Maggie. That would have to do for now. “I’m enjoying this time. And I’m looking forward to Thanksgiving dinner. Your mom tells me you’re a good cook.”

  Susan laughed. For the remainder of the evening, they held hands and talked.

  Chapter Six

  The radio alarm going off ended a deep, trouble-free sleep for Susan, the first in almost a week. Thanksgiving dinner was on the agenda, but for a few minutes more, Susan wanted to enjoy the peace. Ed, her boss, had driven her crazy all week looking for some rock star.

  “Susan, this could be big. I hear she’s looking for financing.”

  “Who? Why are you asking me?”

  “Because I always ask you. M.J. Carson and Reckless. Rumor has it she’s trying to save her marriage and is here to dry out. All I need is a list of people or places. How about it?” Susan half listened. With his persistence, and contacts, he was usually successful. When he met a roadblock, he tended to involve Susan and the rest of the staff.

  “Look, Ed, if I get you the list of rehab places, will you leave me alone?” He nodded and left but she knew that was not the end of this hunt. While these schemes usually drove her crazy, she knew it didn’t compare to the personal chaos in her life.

  Susan stretched and thought about the day ahead. Whenever Maggie was around, her emotions and behavior were erratic and out of control. Whether alone or in crowds, Susan was thinking about her, of what she was doing, to whom she was speaking. Maggie was becoming a compulsion, one Susan had no experience dealing with. A given in her life was to never get involved with a woman, much less a married one. Now she was obsessing about a straight, married woman. She headed for a quick shower, trying to focus on Thanksgiving dinner.

  The morning was quiet while Susan and her mother fixed the turkey, put it in the oven, and began breakfast. In quick succession, Maggie and all three kids appeared in the kitchen. Susan’s life was full.

  The quiet ended around eleven when Susan’s older sister, Betsy, her husband, Tom, and their three children arrived. Quick introductions were followed by brief awkwardness, then five of the six children ran screaming to Cady’s room.

  Kyle, the twelve-year-old nephew, followed their exit. “Children,” he quietly muttered as he walked toward the family room.

  Betsy grinned as Kyle left the kitchen. “My consolation is that one day, I hope, he and his brother and sister will be good friends. After all, we are. So, when do I get to meet this woman who has charmed her way into your house? Mom says she is quite persuasive, at least with you,” Betsy teased.

  Unnerved by the comment, Susan quickly led them into the kitchen, where they were greeted by the sight of her mother attempting to teach Maggie to make biscuits. Flour covered Maggie’s hands and arms. A white smear decorated her left cheek. Her hair, pulled back into a French braid, was streaked with a fine white dust.

  “Maggie, I want you to meet my sister and her husband.” Susan tried not to giggle. “I’m sorry. You look so funny with flour all over you.”

  The grin on Susan’s face was all that was needed. Maggie grabbed flour with one hand and Susan with her other, smearing flour over Susan’s face. Betsy and Tom laughed at them and soon they were targets themselves.

  A flour fight would have ensued except for the sound of Kyle interrupting. “Mom! Dad! How gross!” He stood with his hands on his hips trying to look disapproving. Susan tried to laugh but she realized she was probably much like him when she was younger.

  *

  Betsy grabbed Maggie and led her to the restroom. “Come on, you have flour all over you. Let’s get you cleaned up. Susan is so compulsive, she can care for herself. I figured we could get to know each other without my sister around. She said you met on the plane, but didn’t tell me much else. What kind of work do you do?”

  Maggie shared the abbreviated version of her life. She had met her husband eighteen years ago while they were in college and, in their senior year, they had gotten married. “Derek plays professional football. This time of year he’s often gone. So I decided to take the kids and come to Florida. Susan rescued us when I couldn’t rent a car. She’s been a lifesaver. We’d probably still be washing dishes and sleeping at the airport if it weren’t for her.”

  Betsy stood quietly with her arms crossed against her chest. “My sister is smart and talented when it comes to work, but she is also trusting and somewhat gullible when it comes to people. She wants to believe most people have good intentions. She wouldn’t have allowed you to be here unle
ss she trusts you.” Betsy relaxed and stuck out her right hand. “I guess I will too until I learn differently.”

  Maggie was quite aware of the grilling and its purpose. It was not the first time she had been the subject of such an inquisition, but fame had its way of limiting accessibility. When necessary, she had been able to use humor and charisma to quickly put someone at ease. Today, she was the one who felt uncomfortable. She liked Susan and her family, and the continued verbal dancing was making her uncomfortable.

  Maggie recalled Maureen and Cady accompanying her last week when she had finally checked into the hotel. Maureen clearly noticed the VIP treatment and the large suite they were staying in, but she didn’t ask any questions, saying only, “Maggie, I like you, but there are some things about you I don’t understand. Something isn’t quite right.”

  Now she was again being grilled by another family member with another promise to respect Susan. She was not comfortable with these feelings or the half-truths she was telling. Life was getting complicated.

  “Your sister is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. I assure you I respect that.” She shook Betsy’s hand and they walked back to the kitchen—wary but with a temporary truce.

  Tom remained in the kitchen until Kyle reminded him the Dallas Cowboys game was beginning. Maggie also joined them in front of the TV, explaining that her husband would be doing some commentary during the game. Tom asked for his name. Immediately he recognized Derek Baxter. “God, he’s a great defensive back.”

  Maggie sat quietly wondering how much Tom knew. “He’s been playing professionally for fourteen years. Eventually he would like to try some other things, but that decision will wait until the end of the season.” Stick to the official media line, she decided.

  “I can’t believe this. I’m having dinner with Derek Baxter’s wife. No one will believe me. Can you get an autographed picture for me?”

  “Sure. When he visits we can even get a picture of the two of you.”

  “Me too?” Kyle asked.

  “You too,” Maggie said. No questions about her had yet arisen. She was beginning to feel safer. All further conversation was stopped by introduction of the game commentary staff.

  “Betsy, Susan, Mom, come in here. Maggie’s husband is going to be on TV.” They quietly joined the group around the TV.

  *

  Seeing the attractive male talking into the camera was an unsettling reality for Susan. So, this is the mysterious husband. Not only is he attractive, but he can string multisyllabic words together into intelligent sentences. And he’s cocky. Look at him. Susan, I can’t believe you. You’re acting like a jealous woman. Why? Because everyone is oohing and ahhing over him. So what? Well, at least, I don’t have to watch.

  Susan marched back into the kitchen and began to clean up. Damn, I can’t believe I’m this upset over some stupid jock. That jock, in case you have forgotten, is Maggie’s husband! Just get control, Susan. Do something useful. The sponge in her hand became a lot more interesting. She had forgotten how often she used work, any work, to ignore her emotional life.

  She was so engrossed in cleaning that she didn’t notice someone walk up behind her until she felt Maggie’s hand close over hers and stop the scrubbing. “Susan.” The whispered voice caused Susan to take a deep breath. “Please look at me.”

  Maggie’s hand remained firmly on Susan’s. She closed the distance between them. If Susan turned, she would be in Maggie’s arms. “I need to talk to you.” She took Susan’s hand and led her to the other end of the house where it was quiet.

  Closing the door, Maggie asked, “What’s the matter?”

  Susan tried to leave, but Maggie’s hand blocked her exit. She pulled away, but Maggie moved closer. Susan was held a willing captive by dark, penetrating eyes. She found herself incapable of thinking or reasoning. She felt only an unrelenting hunger to touch, to taste, to feel.

  Maggie leaned against Susan, shivering with the full body contact. She stroked Susan’s hair and gently touched her face. She slowly trailed her fingertips across each brow, carefully studying their shape and texture. She wiped away a tear that had formed in one eye and then tenderly kissed each eyelid. She caressed Susan’s cheek while her fingers danced along the jaw until they stopped at the lips.

  Maggie was beyond logical explanations and quick humor. All she could think about was Susan. All she wanted was Susan. Susan’s warm breath, Susan’s tongue meeting hers.

  Susan tried to move away. “I can’t. Please let go.” Maggie heard the words, but all she could think about was how well their bodies seemed to fit together and how soft Susan’s body was. She could not remember such intense desire. She had gone beyond even her own set boundaries, yet she couldn’t stop herself. Nor did she want to.

  “Susan, oh, God, I want you.” Maggie began to kiss her way down Susan’s neck. She felt Susan shudder.

  “Please!” Maggie felt Susan resisting. “You’re married!”

  Maggie pulled back. “Susan, there are a lot of things you don’t know that I need to explain. Don’t judge me, please, not yet. Things aren’t the way they seem. I’ve wanted to tell you, but—”

  “Don’t, Maggie. You’re married.” Susan was firm, more in control. “That’s all that matters. Please let go.”

  Maggie knew she had to say something, but what? Years of lies and never having to justify herself had not prepared her for this moment. “Please, Susan, give me a chance to explain.” Tears threatened. “I know you don’t know much about me. There are so many things going on right now. Just give me a chance. I promise to behave, but let’s talk. I…” Maggie struggled with her own emotions. “It’s been so long since I’ve felt this way, and I don’t want to just give it up. Give me a chance. Please!”

  Susan hesitated. This intensity of emotion frightened her. What could Maggie say that could change her availability? Yet there was something that kept her from closing the door completely. Susan nodded, agreeing they would talk later, but silently putting up the familiar barriers to her emotions.

  Maggie finally smiled and hastily wiped her tears. She rarely cried, and yet Susan could make her so vulnerable it scared her.

  Susan took a deep breath. “We must be a mess. I’m sure someone in my family will notice.”

  “I don’t know.” Maggie returned Susan’s smile. “No one has knocked at the door, no phones or door bells have rung.”

  They headed back to the kitchen. Susan wanted emotional and physical distance from the roller coaster feelings. These were still too new for her to even try to understand.

  *

  Dinner was no relief for Susan. Betsy kept watching and questioning. When Tom recalled reading some article about Maggie and her husband but couldn’t remember details, Maggie appeared flustered. Susan noticed the speed with which she quickly and successfully changed the subject. This piqued her curiosity and made her wonder what it was that Maggie wanted to tell her. She tried to come to some logical conclusion—a pending divorce, marital problems. Slowly, she allowed her always fertile imagination to wander down a more wished-for road.

  Shortly after dinner, Maggie’s cell phone rang and she took the call in the back bedroom. When Maggie returned to the family room, she said, “That was Paul, my husband’s…our attorney. He’s in Orlando and wants to know if he can drop by for a while. I wasn’t sure how to give him directions.” Maggie hesitated. “Is it okay if he comes over, and can someone tell him how to get here?”

  Tom took her phone and gave directions. “He should be here in less than thirty minutes. He’s at the rental car pick-up at the airport.”

  Susan looked at the clock. At two thirty in the afternoon, she had already had a long, emotional day. She wasn’t sure what else she could handle.

  Nearly an hour later there was a knock on the door. Maggie offered to answer it. When she opened the door, there was an attractive, smiling man. “Paul, come in. Let me introduce you to my hostess.” It was obvious from their hug that they were cl
ose and affectionate. Maggie led him to Susan. “Paul, this is my hostess and new friend. Susan Hettinger, this is Paul Williams, my good friend, my attorney, and my one-time savior.”

  “Susan, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Maggie sings your praises.” Paul took Susan’s hand and held it while examining her closely. “She failed to mention how attractive you are, though.” He glared at Maggie, but it was still a caring look. “I wonder if there are other things she has also forgotten to tell.”

  “Thank you. I’m not sure I deserve the compliment, but I’ll take it as it was meant. My mother—”

  “Hello, I’m Susan’s mom. And you are?” Her mother looped her arm into Paul’s and gently led him into the living room. “We were just watching the football game. Come on and join us. Looks like a good game.”

  Susan stared at her mom, amazed that she even knew it was a football game. Susan and her mom had often gone shopping, cooked, or cleaned other rooms while her dad sat in front of the television watching college and professional football. She followed the small group back into the living room. This day can’t get more bizarre.

  Conversation became animated when Paul announced Derek was flying in later in the evening. Tom was ecstatic, Maggie was silent, and Susan admitted the day could get worse, and had. Susan’s normally quiet Thanksgiving had turned into an interactive event with too many people to keep track of.

  “Derek won’t be here until around nine tonight,” Paul said. “I’m afraid we’ll need to get the kids settled at the hotel before then.”

  “Nonsense,” Susan’s mother interrupted. “Let the kids play for a while longer. We have lots of food. Have him come by here and have dinner first.”

  Paul’s efforts to arrange a different outcome were thwarted. Susan knew her mother’s love of adventure would ensure Derek Baxter made an appearance. Her mom knew nothing about football, but Susan was sure that would be the topic of conversation at her mother’s ladies’ lunch. The day has been a disaster. Why should tonight be any different?