Moments In Time (27 page)

“I want to talk to them. I want to sit down with them and—”

“Maggie, don’t do this to yourself.” She looked at him with a puzzled expression. “Even if we knew where to find them, you can’t rationalize with an addict. All you’ll end up doing is berating yourself for not being able to make them stop. The best we can hope for is that one or both of them will decide it’s gone too far and they want to clean up their lives.”

“I can’t understand your attitude. Two of our best friends are shooting heroin into their veins on a steady basis, and you’re throwing up your hands and saying let them do it!”

“No, Maggie, you’ve missed the point entirely. I can’t change the situation. Believe me, if I thought anything I could do or say would make the least bit of difference, I’d not hesitate for a second. My God, Maggie, Rick’s been closer to me than a brother for years. But he’s on his own with this. The fact that I understand the situation doesn’t mean I like it. And I know I can’t change it. Only Rick and Lindy have that power, Maggie.”

“Don’t they realize that people die—”

“Rick certainly knows the dangers. He knows enough people who didn’t make it through.”

“How could he think it could be different for him?”

“Maggie, don’t we all believe the truly bad things only happen to other people? That somehow misfortune is meant for someone else.
That we lead charmed lives…
”

“Do you believe that?”

“In a way. I have everything that I could ever hope for. I’m doing it all exactly as I want. I work when I want and with whomever I choose. I’m very fortunate in that. And there’s no secret that I believe I’m the luckiest man alive to have you and the boys. You’re everything in this life to me, Maggie. I couldn’t live without you.”

“Sure you could. If I died tomorrow, you’d have to go on living.”

“You won’t die tomorrow. And I wouldn’t let you go without me. They’ll have to take us both at the same time, sort of a two-for-one deal.”

“What a romantic thought. And morbid. I don’t want to talk about dying anymore, Jamey. This has been the most depressing day
…
” She leaned back into him.

“It’s only ten a.m.,” he noted with a glance at his watch. “Want to go back to the house and collect the lads and go for a walk or maybe drive into town?” he suggested.

“Walk into town,” she told him.

He groaned. “I’ll have to carry Tyler. And then Jesse’ll want me to carry him, too.”

“I’ll occupy Jess. Come on.” She stood up and pulled him along with her.

He held her for a moment. “You feel better now?”

“No. But I can deal with it a little better.”

They walked back across the field, headed toward the house, holding hands. Rounding a bend in the path, an old man came upon them, his approach sudden and silent. He was dressed in a tattered tweed jacket and faded black trousers, an old brown bowler covering his thin gray hair.

“Morning, George,” J.D. addressed him, and the old man merely grunted a kind of greeting, his eyes darting only briefly in Maggie’s direction as he scurried on his way.

“J.D., that’s him, isn’t it?” She tugged at his sleeve, looking over her shoulder. “That’s—”

“George Brenner,” he finished.

“His eyes are creepy,” she whispered, “sinister. I get a chill up my spine every time I pass him. I see him all the time when I run. He scares the wits out of me.”

“I think your imagination gets the best of you some
times,” he said. “George is hardly sinister. A bit odd, perhaps, but hardly sinister.”

As they went through the garden gate, she turned and said, “I want to write Rick a letter.”

“What will you say?”

“That I love him. And Lindy. And I hate what they’re doing. That if they need or want help, that we’re both here for them. That I think they’re both stupid beyond belief and that I despise their drug habits and want to slap some sense into both of them. That if they kill themselves, I’ll never forgive them. That I don’t want to see or hear from either of them until they’re straight or want to be. And that if I never see them again, it’ll break my heart.”

He looked down at her and smiled gently. “Do you think it will do any good?”

“Maybe not for them,” she replied as she walked past him into the house to write the letter that would not be read by its recipients for eight months.

A
rriving back home to the States, Maggie first blamed her lethargy on jet lag, then on the heartache she felt over Lindy and Rick’s predicament. But when it lasted beyond two weeks, a quick look at the calendar told her she was pregnant again. J.D. was elated. So was she when she wasn’t sick.

She was grateful he was home with her those first few months, when she had a queasy stomach, an endless capacity for sleep, and two very active young boys to keep up with. She napped when the boys did and often slept beyond their wake-up time. On those days, J.D. got the boys up, gave them a snack, and took them for a long walk or into the yard to play. She was relieved when the nausea ceased and she found herself more energized. J.D. insisted on her continuing her afternoon rests and each day kept the little ones occupied until she awoke.

“There’s a method to your madness, and I’m on to it,” she told him one night as he cuddled her.

“What’s that?”

“You take the boys and let me rest in the afternoon so I have energy left at the end of the day to entertain you.”

“Seems like a fair enough deal to me,” he replied. “You’re not complaining, are you?”

“Of course not. I just wanted you to know that I figured out your game.”

“Well, I have to take good advantage of my time with you while I have it. I’ll be on the r
oad a bit more this next year. I
didn’t do much to promote either of those last two albums, and I’ve been advised to tour more after the next one, which is due toward the end of the year. And before we know it, we’ll have this new little guy
…”
He stroked her rounded abdomen, loving the smooth feel of it, loved knowing that a part of him was growing inside her.

“Not a guy this time, I told you.”

“Ah, yes. Louisa Elizabeth. After both our mothers.”

“Lucy,” she said.

“But if it’s a boy…”

“Yes, Jamey, you get to name it.” She yawned and snuggled up to him. “If I’m ever wrong, you get to choose the name.”

Which of course, he never did.

“
T
ell me again why we’re having Caroline to dinner tonight,” J.D. inquired as he finished buttoning his shirt. “Not that I mind, of course.”

“Caro’s had a rough year.” Maggie rummaged in her closet for her favorite long denim skirt, just the thing, she’d been thinking, for a casual dinner with a close friend. “David really did a job on her, you know. Sometimes I wonder if she’ll ever forgive herself for letting him talk her into that abortion.”

“Ah, yes, David. Smooth, charming, sophisticated, politically motivated, married David. What was it he was after, a judgeship or something? Tough to arrange those things, I suppose, when you have a wife and family in the city and a mistress and an illegitimate child in the suburbs.” He watched as his wife pulled a thinly ribbed red knit shirt over her head.

“Caro did not deserve all that rubbish she had to deal with. He didn’t even tell her he was married for the first
three months he was taking her out. Then he told her he was getting divorced. Then it was, well, we’re separating when the school year ends, don’t want to upset the kids. Then it was after his father-in-law had his open-heart surgery. What a jerk that man proved to be.” She stepped into her skirt and buttoned up the front. “I thought it would be good for her to be here, be around friends, since she’s been a mess for the past month or so. Never wants to go anywhere
…
Have you seen my other red shoe?”

“I think one of the boys was playing with it this morning.” He reached under a chair, picked up the shoe, and shook out a small herd of tiny plastic horses. He handed it to her with a grin, noting, “It’s none the worse for being used as a stable.”

“Thanks.” She balanced on one foot while she slipped a shoe onto the other. “Besides, I haven’t had much time to spend with Caroline since Lucy was bo
rn
, and there’s nothing more comforting for a broken heart than to be with an old and trusted friend.”

“Well, there’s some truth in that, though I doubt Caroline’s come this far through life without having her heart broken a time or two.” He sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back against the pillow.

“Umm, not so much as you’d think. Caro’s always been pretty careful with the men in her life.” She frowned as she added, “Up until now, anyway. She’s had her share of beaux, but she’s always lost interest after a while. For one reason or another none of them measured up to whate
ver it is she’s looking for…
Where did I put the earring that matches this?”

“What do you suppose she’s looking for?” he asked.

“I don’t know for sure, but I’d guess someone strong and sensitive, someone who takes her seriously and who isn’t afraid to let her know that he loves her to death. Of course, Donald, the guy she dated in college, met all the criteria, but she broke off with him because when all was said and done, she really wasn’t attracted to him.”

“Maybe what she’s looking for and what she needs are two different things,” he observed.

“No”—Maggie shook her head—“she knows what she
wants, but the chemistry has to be there, too. Oops, there’s the doorbell, come on, Jamey.”

He descended the stairs in his wife’s wake and greeted Caroline warmly. She did look like she’d been under the weather a bit, he thought as he observed the dark circles under her eyes.

Dinner had been a somewhat sedate affair. Caroline had seemed distracted and subdued. It was a relief of sorts when the doorbell rang halfway through the meal. J.D. disappeared into the foyer and returned ten long minutes later.

“Maggie,” he announced, “look who’s seeking shelter from the storm.”

Rick stood in the doorway. She rose from her seat and embraced him, holding him for a very long time.

“How are you?” she asked simply, taking in his thin, tired appearance. The lines around his eyes were deeper, his expression almost somber. He sported a beard and a shorter haircut.

“Much better, thank you. God, you’ve
got company, I’m so sorry…
Oh, Caroline. Hello, darling.”

He smiled with genuine pleasure, walking to her side of the table as she slid from her chair to hug him.

“Rick, what a surprise. I haven’t se
en hide nor hair of you for…
gosh, it must be at least a year. You’ve lost weight. Have you been ill?” Caroline asked with concern.

Maggie apparently had not told her.

“Sort of. But I’m fine now.” He met Maggie’s gaze, and she smiled.

“Here. J.D., bring that over.” Maggie motioned toward a chair against the wall. “Sit down, Rick. Have you eaten?”

“On the plane,” he replied.

“Where’s Lindy?” Maggie asked pointedly.

“In London.” He avoided her eyes. “She wasn’t up to the trip.” Then he added quietly, “I’m sorry, Maggie.”

She did not respond.

Rick changed the subject. “I saw Hobie last week. In Munich. He told me he’d been here for a brief visit a month back.”

“Too brief,” Maggie told him. “They only stayed for four
days this time because Hobie had to make some appearances in Europe. They usually spend a week or so in London—they come to see us every year, you know, and we always have the loveliest time. I adore Aden—she’s great fun. And their children are precious, both of them.”

“What brings you over?” J.D. asked.

Rick hesitated. “Just wanted to check in with old friends.”

“We’re glad you did,” J.D. said. “Can you stay for a few days?”

“A few. I have to be in L.A. by Tuesday for some meetings. I’m finally getting back to work. And guess who’s working with me, J.D.—Andrew Jenners.”

“You’re kidding. I thought he’d retired.”

“He did,” Rick told him, proudly adding, “but he agreed to do this one more project for me.”

“Ugh. Shop talk,” Maggie groaned. “Caro, want to help me clear this and get dessert?”

Rick’s presence added a bit of spark to the party, and before long, he and Caroline were reminiscing about the first time they’d met.

“You were such a boor in those days, Rick,” she laughed.

“I’m crushed, Caro. I thought you were so beautiful—you still are, by the way—and you totally ignored me.”

“I thought you were so strange. And obnoxious. You really thought you were hot stuff.”

“I was hot stuff
”
—he winked—“though apparently that wasn’t quite the thing.”

“Quite what thing?” she asked.

“Quite the thing to attract your attention.” He grinned. “I always had the feeling that you never really noticed me.”