Halfway to Paradise

by Neesa Hart

  “I’ve got one more site inspection to do before I can complete my plans. Right now all I have are sketches.”

  “Is that why you’re on your way to Massachusetts now?”

  “Yes. I’ll be traveling up to Cape Hope today, and I’ll have until Friday to make my final calculations and surveys. I’ve got to have my preliminary plans into the planning commission by a week from Friday.”

  Maggie nodded. “The interior concepts are due then, too. That’s why I decided to do the Dallas show instead of waiting until the Boston show came up in the spring. I needed the input now.”

  “If you want, well, maybe we could get together in the next day or so and look at the plans.”

  Maggie looked at him in amazement. He looked embarrassed, abashed even, at the suggestion. She felt a buoyancy in her spirit that hadn’t been there before. “That would be great.”

  “I, uh, I have these tickets.” He pulled the hockey tickets out of his pocket. “My boss gave them to me as kind of a good-luck present.”

  Maggie looked at the tickets. There were four of them. “These are tickets to the Bruins game.”

  “Yeah. You said Ryan liked hockey. I thought, well, maybe we could go—the three of us.”

  “Ryan would be your friend for life.”

  “Can’t ask for more than that.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to use these for a client or something?”

  “I don’t think Steve expected me to fly any of my clients in from Dallas. I think he was sort of hoping I’d find a date.”

  A date. Maggie couldn’t even remember the last time the word had entered her vocabulary. “Are you sure?”

  “Sure, I’m sure. I’d love to take you and Ryan to the game.”

  “We’d love to go.” She paused and met his gaze, inwardly marveling at the aplomb with which she managed to accept his casual invitation. She hadn’t thought, hadn’t even considered the possibility of starting a friendship, or anything else for that matter, with a man since Mark’s death. She’d met several people in Cape Hope she counted as friends, but despite their encouragement for her to get out more, she’d found the idea distasteful. Until she’d met Scott Bishop. “I’m sure Ryan will be ecstatic.” She handed him the tickets. “I don’t get to do things like this with him as often as I’d like.”

  Scott rubbed his palms on his thighs. “I’m sure it’s been difficult for the little guy. In a way, I was almost glad Annie and I didn’t have children. I wouldn’t have wanted to put them through this. The grief, I mean.”

  “I know. Ryan was always such a happy child, but, well, I’m just not sure I’ve been able to give him what he needs to deal with the situation. Nothing has been able to shake his assertions that he can see and hear Mark. I want to believe it’s just a phase, like an imaginary friend, but I’m not sure.” She tipped her head and studied the man in the seat next to her, thinking that in the three hours it had taken them to reach Boston, she’d grown to know him better than she did many of the people she’d known for years. “Besides”—she waved the white handkerchief at him— “the least I can do after you’ve been so kind, is show you around Boston. What better place to start than a Bruins game?”

  The seat-belt sign blinked overhead as the plane began its descent into Logan Airport. Scott fastened his seat belt before meeting her gaze again. “All right then. If you’ll give me the address, I’ll take a cab over.”

  Maggie buckled her own seat belt. “You don’t rent a car while you’re in town?”

  He looked aghast. “And drive in Boston? Are you kidding?”

  She laughed. “It’s not really so bad. Not once you get used to it.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. I’m used to driving in Dallas, where the city’s on a grid pattern and folks obey traffic laws.”

  Maggie paused, thoroughly enjoying the warm look he gave her. Something cold in her heart, something that had been frozen since the day Mark’s commanding officer had called and told her about the accident, responded to that warmth like a flower daring to peek at the spring sun through lingering snows of late winter. And it felt good.

  It felt good to smile, and be warm, and share some of the nagging pain that had clawed at her heart for a long, relentless year. She smiled at him, wanting to share some of that warmth with her new friend. “Well, as long as you’re going my way, at least let me give you a ride. What kind of host would I be if I let you risk your life in a Boston cab?”

  “Are you sure it won’t be out of your way?”

  “In Cape Hope?” she asked. “Where a drive across town takes ten minutes on a bad day? How could it possibly be out of my way?”

  “I won’t be taking up too much of your time?”

  “No. It won’t take more than an extra fifteen minutes tops.”

  He relented with a slight grin. “I’d appreciate it then. I used a cab last time I was here, and I’m still recovering from the gray hairs.”

  The plane bounced when it touched the ground before settling to a smooth stop. Maggie set her briefcase on her lap and waited while the plane taxied to the gate. “Well then, Mr. Bishop, it will be my pleasure to see you safely escorted to Cape Hope.” Maggie paused. She didn’t feel as though she could simply ignore the fact that they’d shared such a charged conversation. It seemed somehow unfair to leave him with the impression that she’d so readily dismissed his kindness. “And I—if I didn’t say it before, thank you for listening, for being so nice.”

  Scott smiled at her. “I think I needed to listen, Maggie. You helped me, too, whether you know it or not. I’m glad things worked out like this.”

  She tried to ignore her sudden awkwardness. “I’m glad, too.”

  Passengers began to make their way down the crowded aisle of the plane. Scott paused to smile at Maggie, then stood up to retrieve his bag from the luggage rack. “You know something, Maggie?” he said, dropping his black cashmere overcoat onto the seat, before he lifted down his suitcase.

  “What?” She looked up at him.

  He put his bag down on the floor, and picked up his coat. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Annie planned this whole thing.”

  Maggie tipped her head and studied him. “What do you mean?”

  He fixed her with a serious look, his gaze intense. “It might sound crazy to you, but I can’t get over the feeling Annie would be mighty pleased with herself about now. I haven’t been able to talk much about this before, and I have to say it felt good to get it off my chest.” His smile was fleeting. “I wouldn’t put it past her to be sitting up in Heaven right now, grinning at me.”

  Annie smiled. She rubbed her hands on the sleeves of her pink sweater, wishing she could kiss Scott. He was such a fine man. The best she’d ever known, and despite the way he always insisted that she’d taken pity on him when he was an awkward teenager, she knew better. Scott had been good to her. Better than anyone in her whole life, and the hardest part about dying had been leaving him behind.

  She looked at Mark Connell. When the plane landed, he’d stood to stretch his legs. His head had disappeared into the overhead compartment. She tugged on his sweatshirt until he leaned down, bringing his head back into view. “I think they’re getting along very well.”

  He frowned. “What makes you think that?”

  Annie studied him. “What are you so cross about?”

  He sighed and dropped back down into the seat. He propped his elbows on his knees to bury his face in his hands. “I hadn’t heard Maggie talk about this before. It kind of worries me. I’m worried about her, and I’m worried about Ryan.” He shook his head. “Maggie’s the kind of woman who should have half a dozen kids running around. Anybody with that much love to give shouldn’t be wasting it.”

  Annie hesitated before reaching over to run her fingers over Mark’s back. “Maybe that’s it, Mark.”

  He raised his head and looked at her. “What is?”

  Annie let her gaze wander back to where Scott was helping Magg
ie into her coat. “Maybe that’s why we’re here. Maybe they can’t say good-bye to us until we say good-bye to them.”

  “Now hold on just one minute. You’re not thinking of some harebrained plan to thatch the two of them up, are you?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because, because,” he waved his hand in Scott’s direction, “he’s all wrong for her. That’s why.”

  She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, then held out her hand to Mark. She should have known he’d be stubborn about it. Evidently, dead men weren’t all that different from live ones. “Look,” she said. “Look at my fingers.”

  Mark stared at her hand. “You’re see-through. Sort of.”

  Annie nodded. “I’m fading. I noticed it when I first got on the plane with Scott. It’s as if I’m disappearing. I’m starting to lose some of my memories, too. I don’t feel like I’m quite real anymore.”

  Mark spread his own hands out in front of him. He stared at them. “Mine are still intact.”

  From the corner of her eyes, she saw Scott and Maggie start to exit the aircraft. Annie stood, motioning for Mark to follow her from the plane. “Maybe Maggie is still holding on too tight.”

  Mark’s gaze shot to Maggie’s back as she made her way off the plane with Scott. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “I don’t think so. Why else would we be here like this? And what about Ryan? Don’t you remember what Maggie said about how much trouble Ryan was having accepting your death?”

  Mark let out a long, ragged breath. “I’m telling you right now, Annie, the solution to this is not to pair off your husband and my wife. It won’t work.”

  “Stop acting like a jealous male.”

  “I am a jealous male.”

  “Well, grow up, then. What if this is their last chance?” Annie picked her way through the crowd. She followed Scott and Maggie through the airport, periodically checking to see if Mark was still behind her. “I know this is hard, Mark. I mean”—she felt her voice catch—“it’s easier for me. I just have Scott to worry about. You have Maggie and Ryan.”

  Mark looked at her in alarm. He reached over to wrap an arm around her shoulders. He didn’t bother to steer around the luggage conveyors, he just walked straight through. “You’re not going to start to cry are you?”

  She almost smiled at the frantic note in his voice. She reached up to wipe away what should have been tears, only to find ice crystals instead. She held out her fingers to Mark. “Look. No tears,” she said. “Nothing to panic over.”

  “Thank God.”

  “I’ll bet Maggie was most attracted to your sensitive nature,” she quipped, a remarkable accomplishment given the circumstances.

  He shot her a dry look. Scott and Maggie had exited the airport. They were working their way toward the parking deck. Annie picked up the pace, pulling Mark along with her. “Just be glad I can’t cry real tears. We’d be looking for buckets soon.”

  He looked contrite. “I’m sorry, Annie, I wasn’t trying to be a jerk.” A dimple appeared in his cheek. “Sometimes it just comes naturally to me.”

  She drew a deep, shaky breath. “Will you promise me something, Mark?”

  “Will it keep you from crying?”

  “Probably. For a little while, anyway.”

  He nodded. “Then absolutely. Anything.”

  “Will you promise that you’ll do whatever you can to help Maggie and Ryan? I don’t know why all this is happening, and I don’t understand it any better than you do.” She let her gaze wander to the parking lot where Maggie was unlocking the back of her Ford Bronco. Annie had to fight a fresh surge of tears. “But I can’t stand to see Scott hurt so much.” She wiped two more icy tears away from her cheeks. “I can’t even have a good solid cry to get it out of my system.”

  She could tell by the expression on his face that he was going to relent, at least a little. “We’re in this together, Annie. I don’t know why, and I don’t know for how long, but for some reason, we’re stuck with this situation. I’ll do what I can to help Maggie.”

  Annie rubbed her face against his soft sweatshirt. She thought of Scott, of his kind eyes and kinder heart, and of how much she wanted to see him laugh again, how much she wanted to see him happy. She sniffled again. “Let’s go catch up to those two and see if we can figure out what’s going on,” she said.

  Mark smiled at her. Together, they watched as Maggie and Scott climbed into Maggie’s Bronco. Mark lifted Annie into the backseat, then slid in next to her. He shook his head at the faint grinding noise when Maggie pushed the gearshift into reverse. He shot Annie a wry look. “I never could teach her how to drive a stick.”

  Annie laughed. “Scott couldn’t teach me either. I couldn’t ever remember how to shift down.”

  “She loses things, too,” he said as Maggie approached the toll plaza. “Watch this. I’ll bet you a quarter she has a monthly pass for that toll plaza, and she won’t be able to find it.” Maggie started digging in the glove compartment. Annie stifled a giggle. Maggie had to finally accept the two-dollar toll from Scott with an offer to pay him back. Mark shook his head again. “Just wait until we have to watch her find her car keys. It’ll take twenty minutes.”

  Annie laughed, feeling more lighthearted in the face of Mark’s banter. “That’s nothing. Scott has no sense of direction. I guarantee he’ll get lost in his hotel trying to find his room.”

  Mark smiled at her. “And you think these two would make a great couple? Maggie can’t find anything she owns, and Scott can’t find himself.”

  They lapsed into silence for a while, listening to Maggie and Scott discuss the Cape Hope project. When Maggie dropped Scott off at his hotel, with a promise to call him about arrangements for the hockey game the following evening, Mark and Annie climbed down from the Bronco. They followed Scott into the Holiday Inn just to see how long it would take him to find his room. Mark laughed when Scott wandered around on the third floor for fifteen minutes trying to find Room 327. “Is he always that bad?”

  Annie nodded. “Always. He was twenty minutes late for our wedding because he got lost on the way to the church.”

  “Maggie didn’t wear her veil because she couldn’t find it,” he said with a slow smile. “She’ll be home soon. I want to go with her, OK?”

  Annie nodded.

  “Will you be all right?”

  She smiled, then kissed his cheek. “I’ll be fine. Tell Ryan I can’t wait to meet him. I wonder . . . do you think he’ll be able to see me?”

  “I hope so,” he said, and disappeared.

  Annie followed Scott into his room. She wished he’d flip on the television so she could watch something while he unpacked. He didn’t though. He sank down on the bed and buried his head in his hands. Annie wanted desperately to touch him. She sat down next to him, and stroked her fingers over the contour of his head, wishing she could feel the crisp waves twined around her fingers.

  His big shoulders shuddered once, and Annie felt it all the way to her toes. “Oh, Scott,” she whispered, even as she felt the cold sting of ice on her face, “don’t do this.”

  Three

  “Don’t do this, Maggie,” Maggie told herself as she wiped a tear off her face. She turned into the drive-way of the small Victorian-Era house she and Ryan now called home. She took several deep breaths until she felt she had pulled her emotions at least somewhat under control. With a heavy sigh, she climbed out of the Bronco to make her way through the snow to the front door. She opened it with a resolved push.

  “Ryan?” Maggie called, dropping her keys on the hall table and setting her bag on the floor. “Honey? I’m home.”

  Ryan came barreling out of the kitchen and threw his arms around her legs. “Mom!”

  She smiled and ruffled his hair. “Did you miss me?”

  Ryan tipped his head back and grinned at her, showing the gap where his two front teeth had once been, and the unmistakable bluish bruise of a black eye. “I scored two goals in my hockey game tod
ay,” he announced.

  “Two goals?” Maggie said, duly impressed. She rubbed her thumb over his bruised eye. She satisfied herself it was more show than substance. “Is this what you have to show for it?”

  “Yeah. Tommy Willis hooked me with his stick, and Coach Bullard was really mad, but I got to take the penalty shot, and we won. Isn’t it cool?”

  Maggie rolled her eyes, satisfied that there was no permanent damage. “Yeah. Cool. Did Mrs. Sophy take care of it?” she asked, referring to the neighbor who’d stayed with Ryan while Maggie had been in Dallas.

  “Dad checked it out at the ice. He said it was no big deal. A real, first-class shiner.”

  Maggie sighed. “Ryan, honey, we’ve talked about this before. Daddy’s gone.”

  “Mom, he was right there. He even told me how to make the shot.”

  She decided she was too tired to argue, and knew from experience it was a losing battle anyway. “Why don’t we just talk about it later, all right?”

  He looked like he wanted to argue. “He was there.”

  Maggie ignored his mumbled protest. She shrugged out of her coat. “Did Mrs. Sophy put anything on your eye?”

  “Yeah. She gave me this huge piece of steak. It was really cool. It didn’t hurt hardly at all. Mrs. Soph made me a chocolate cake ’cause I scored two goals. Can we go out for pizza since you weren’t here last night?” Ryan disentangled himself from her legs.

  Maggie handed her coat to him. “Will you put that away for me while I go thank Mrs. Sophy for staying with you?”

  “OK, but can we go out for pizza?”

  Maggie tweaked his stomach, eliciting a delighted squeal. “Yes, we can go out for pizza.” She gave his behind a playful swat. “Now go hang my coat up.”

  “OK, Mom.”

  Ryan was halfway down the hall when Maggie turned toward the kitchen. She found Edith Sophy, an apron tied around her ample waist, washing dishes. What had to be the world’s most delectable-looking chocolate cake sat half-eaten on the counter. “Hello, Edith.”