Within This Frame

by Zart, Lindy

  Judith shook her head, an amused look on her face. “Do you honestly think I care that much whether you’re together or not? I warned you both, neither of you listened. Whatever happens is on the two of you. And . . . I’ve seen how you and Maggie are with one another. Maybe I was wrong about you.”

  Lance laughed bitterly. “And maybe you weren’t.”

  She’d said he was like his mother. He left the apartment and staggered toward the ocean. Lance knew it was true. No one’s love had been enough for her, and yet she still kept wanting it. Never satisfied, never completely happy. She hurt the ones who loved her and she made sure they kept loving her anyway. His mother destroyed herself.

  The wind was cold and welcome. Hands in the pockets of his jeans, Lance hunched his shoulders and stared into the water, wondering if she once stood where he was, wondering what she thought, who she was hurting at the time, if she loved his father. If she loved him.

  He loved Maggie.

  Love wasn’t enough.

  Love was a cruel joke.

  Lance went back to the apartment Maggie helped decorate. He felt her there as he hadn’t in her own room. His eyes tripped over the blue blanket she snuggled under as they watched movies. Lance knew the refrigerator had two gallons of the chocolate milk she loved. There were countless framed pictures of them around the place. He sat at the table, resting his elbows on it and holding his head. She’d already been with him all the time. Why had he freaked at the thought of her staying with him?

  He took a hot shower, placing his palms to the shower wall as he hung his head. Water streamed over his face and body but all he felt was emptiness, heavy and black. Gray pajama pants on, he took the blanket from the couch and flung himself on the bed, grabbed the pillow she used, and hugged it to him. He closed his eyes and thought of Maggie, aching for her warmth, her smile.

  Lance called her the next day, but she wouldn’t talk to him.

  He went to a friend’s house and got drunk.

  Five days later it was the same.

  Lance wasn’t eating, he wasn’t sleeping. Life revolved around heartache and booze.

  This was what you wanted. Now deal with it.

  Two weeks went by.

  Judith checked on him and he blew up at her, guaranteeing another visit would not be happening.

  Half insane as he was, Lance bought a ring. It was simple and lovely, like Maggie. Silver band, heart-shaped diamond. He didn’t know why he bought it. He was listlessly walking downtown when it caught the light of the sun in the jewelry store window and momentarily blinded him. He didn’t know what he was going to do with it. Ridiculously enough, it made him feel closer to Maggie.

  MAGGIE—2010

  “IT’S WEIRD TO be back here,” Lance muttered as they entered Maggie’s childhood home. “And nice,” he added at her look.

  Maggie’s mom had stopped over a few days ago and personally invited Lance to accompany Maggie to the Smiley house for a meal. Maggie thought it was sweet of her, and suspicious. Her mother only offered an innocent smile and went on her way, leaving a bemused daughter in her wake.

  She led the way through the hall, the scents and sounds she associated with home present and heartwarming. It was a noisy, eclectic living space that always smelled like food of some kind and was never without racket.

  “My parents are acting weird about this whole thing.”

  “How so?”

  “I don’t know. They act like . . . they like you or something.”

  Lance laughed. “How blasphemous of them.”

  “I know.” She smiled. “How dare they be sensible about the whole thing?”

  “Parents.”

  Nora and her two boys were in the kitchen, her sister slim and trim with a pink blouse and cream skirt, red hair side-parted and sleek. She looked from Lance to Maggie, and then turned to her redheaded six-year-old twins. “Nick and Nolan, say hello to Aunt Maggie and Lance.”

  One of the twins—horrible aunt that she was, Maggie could never remember who was who—blinked his brown eyes at Lance. “Are you Aunt Maggie’s boyfriend?”

  Lance glanced at Maggie. “I am definitely a boy, and her friend. She wishes I was her boyfriend.”

  Maggie scowled at him and he shrugged, looking unconcerned by her ire.

  The other boy wiped an arm across his face, smearing chocolate on it.

  “That one looks like you did on your second cheat day,” Lance commented.

  Maggie laughed and flicked Lance’s ear.

  “Ow.” He clapped a hand over his ear and bumped her shoulder with his.

  “Come on, boys, let’s get washed up for dinner.” Nora paused by Maggie. “You look nice.”

  Maggie blinked. “Oh. Thank you.”

  “Lance,” she greeted.

  “Nora.”

  Maggie frowned after her sister. “Everyone’s being strange. Mom and Dad must be in the dining room. Come on.”

  As she was about to step into the dining room, expectant smile in place, Lance swung an arm around her waist and maneuvered her back to the hallway. “Maggie, there’s something you should know.”

  Maggie’s smile faltered when she looked at him. His expression was serious, and that worried her. “What is it?”

  Lance hesitated. “It’s about your sister,” he said slowly.

  “What about my sister?” she demanded, fear rushing up her throat.

  She knew. She already knew what he was going to say. The truth was finally going to come out about her sister, and Lance, and how he came to be in Iowa, and she didn’t want to know it. It was interesting that the image that popped to her mind was of Lance and Nora in each other’s arms, making out, or worse, having sex. That’s what she feared. Out of all the possible scenarios that could have flittered through her mind, only that one did.

  Lance interlocked his fingers and held them to his mouth, looking at her and away. “I wasn’t going to take the job.”

  “What?”

  What did that mean? He took the job to get closer to her sister, and they ended up having a one-night stand? Where was he going with that? Why was her brain stuck on them having sex?

  “Does Ken know?”

  His eyebrows lowered. “Ken? Who’s Ken?”

  “My sister’s husband,” she screeched, sounding insane—the present tick under her eye supported that likelihood. “If you’re going to do something like that, you should at least know who your actions are affecting.”

  Lance clapped a hand over her mouth. “Be quiet,” he warned, looking around them. “Are you going to be quiet?”

  She glared at him, tempted to bite his hand. She jerked her head in consent.

  He slowly removed his hand. “Why would Kevin—”

  “Ken,” Maggie bit out, scowling at him.

  “Whatever! Why would he need to know about any of this?”

  “Why indeed?” She rolled her eyes. “I thought you agreed to come here because you wanted to help me, or even less appealing, but more likely, because you wanted me on your show. You really did it to get close to my sister? Is that it?”

  As soon as the words left Maggie’s mouth, she heard the fallacy in them. Lance would never do something for someone else out of the goodness of his heart, not even her. His heart wasn’t that good. Everything he did, he did because he got something out of it. She should have realized that sooner.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” he shouted, throwing up his hands.

  “Like you don’t know!”

  “I don’t know! I know I’m trying to tell you something and you’re talking out of your ass!”

  Their faces were close enough that the piercing blueness of his eyes was in full effect, breaking through all the layers around her heart to smash it. He could do that to her with one look. Right then, Maggie could kiss him, or kill him. Either would make her happy.

  She stepped away, sniffing. “I do not talk out of my ass.”

  “Everything okay?” Maggie’s mom asked as
she appeared in the hallway beside Maggie, looking between the two of them.

  “Yes,” Maggie said at the same time Lance said, “No.”

  She nodded, her expression not changing. “Okay. Dinner’s ready, so don’t be too long. Baked chicken doesn’t taste as well cold. It gets all slimy and curdled.” Maggie’s mom shuddered.

  And then she was gone.

  Lance stared after Jennifer Smiley. “It’s like she has selective hearing. I thought only kids and husbands had that.”

  “No, mothers have it too,” Maggie’s mom called from the other room.

  Maggie gestured to him and hissed, “What are you blathering on about anyway? Just spit it out already so I can go not enjoy dinner with my family.”

  Lance’s jaw tightened and he spoke slowly, as though fighting for calm. “If you’d be quiet for one second, I’d explain.”

  Maggie crossed her arms and tapped her left foot. “Okay. I’m quiet.”

  “You’re not quiet, because you just talked,” he said through clenched teeth.

  She gave him a pointed look.

  “Stop . . . tapping . . . your . . . foot.”

  Maggie scrunched up her face at him, but went silent.

  Rubbing the back of his head, he paced the short hallway, passing by the dining room each time he swung back her way. She knew everyone was watching him through the open doorway, wondering what melodramatic event had transpired between the two of them. She was sure Nora was enjoying it immensely.

  Maggie growled at Lance, which, fortunately, made him stop moving.

  “Nora, can you come here?” he called, eyes locked on Maggie.

  Her frown deepened and she refused to look away from Lance as they waited.

  “What is it?” Nora trilled, showing up exactly three minutes later, like she counted it out. And Maggie knew, because Maggie had.

  “Like you haven’t heard the whole conversation,” she muttered.

  “Don’t be nasty,” her older sister scolded. “And it was hard not to hear, with the two of you shouting.” Nora turned to Maggie. “And no, we didn’t sleep together.”

  Lance made a sound of disbelief. “You thought I had sex . . . with your sister?”

  Maggie looked intently at her sister. “How did you know I was thinking that?”

  Nora rolled her eyes and brushed hair from her eyes. “You’re my sister. I know you. Do you really think I would do that to Ken, or to you?” She looked hurt.

  “What do you mean, to me? It’s not like Lance and I are dating. Why would I care what Lance does, or with whom? He’s single. He can do whatever he wants, with whomever he wants. I don’t care,” Maggie protested. Loudly. Too loudly.

  She glanced at Lance, was struck blind by the contemplative look on his face, and immediately averted her face.

  “I begged Lance to work with you,” Nora confessed, eyes looking everywhere but at her sister. “That’s what he’s trying to tell you.”

  Maggie’s mouth went dry. “Why? As some kind of sick joke?” She looked at Lance, and it almost looked like he was apologetic. “Did you guys set this up to have a good laugh at me?”

  “I didn’t even want to do it,” Lance said, his voice dragged down with tiredness.

  “Of course not,” Nora denied, staring at Maggie. “Why would you say that?”

  Maggie jabbed a finger at her sister. “You make fun of me all the time. You constantly compare us, and you always come up better. You like my flaws. They make you feel better. Admit it, you wanted me to stay fat.”

  “That’s absurd,” she scoffed, but she quickly looked away.

  Maggie frowned. “It is true, isn’t it?”

  “No. Maybe. But only a little.” Nora swallowed, her face red and flustered.

  “Why?”

  Nora shook her head, her shiny red hair swaying around her shoulders with the movement. She didn’t look like she was going to answer, but then she asked, “What am I good at?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Hands fisted, she snapped, “It shouldn’t be a hard question. What am I good at?”

  “I don’t know,” she said slowly, glancing at Lance.

  His look said he was staying out of it.

  She turned back to her sister. “You’re good at exercising.”

  Nora glared at her. “That’s my talent?”

  “I’m not sure what else you do!” Frustration sharpened her words.

  “Exactly! Because I don’t do anything. I’m not good at anything! You have your acting career—or you did, before you decided to shun the world and live in your own dreary one.”

  Maggie opened her mouth, but the severe look her sister shot her way shut it back up.

  “I have no talent. All I have are my good looks, my drive to stay in shape, and my children and husband. That’s what my life is made up of. I love my life, I do, but it would be nice to have a talent of some kind.”

  She looked at Maggie. “Yes, it gave me a small amount of pleasure when you gained weight, but the pride I feel that you’re getting in shape outshines any petty envy. I truly am happy that you’re getting healthy.” Nora’s tone was sincere, as was her expression.

  “And what does he have to do with it?” She jerked her head in the direction of Lance.

  “I didn’t ask him to help out of spite, or for whatever reason you think I did. I did it because . . .” She hesitated, looking at Lance before redirecting her gaze to Maggie. She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Like I said before, I did it because I knew, if anyone could motivate you, it would be him. And, well, he’s the guy.”

  Maggie swallowed as she looked into her sister’s green eyes. She refused to look at Lance, but she felt him nearby, watching her. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Nora gave her a chastising look. “Yes. You do. He’s the guy.”

  She shook her head, denying what she knew in her heart. What she’d always known, since she was a fifteen-year-old girl awed by the beauty and charisma of a sixteen-year-old boy.

  Her sister wrapped her arms around her, squeezed her tight, and whispered in her ear, “I wanted you to see him again. Just once—one last time to either push him away or pull him close. You’ve never been as happy as you were when you two were in love. I see glimpses of it now. Do what your heart says, even if it disagrees with your head. Your head is smart, but it isn’t always right.”

  Nora straightened, brushing hair from Maggie’s forehead. The gesture was kind, as were her eyes.

  Maggie jabbed a finger at her sister, voice firm as she told her, “Don’t call me Bacon anymore, unless it’s Turkey Bacon, which is all I’m allowed to eat.”

  She smiled. “You got it. Come eat soon. Like Mom said, the food’s getting cold.”

  Her sister quietly walked from the hallway.

  Maggie wiped the back of her hand across eyes that were damp, her lower lip trembling as she waited for Lance to either leave or speak. He spoke.

  “When your sister called and asked me to take the job, I said no. Because I wanted to see you. Because I knew you wouldn’t want to see me.”

  She looked at Lance’s blurry image and blinked him into focus.

  He watched her, dark eyes unveiled to show all the emotions he generally hid. “I don’t think,” he said slowly. “You are aware how much you really meant to me.”

  “I know you loved me as much as you knew how. You told me,” she whispered hoarsely, her arms crossed as though to protect herself from her own heart.

  “I did love you,” Lance said in a low voice. “But you have no idea how much. I didn’t even know it until it was too late. And I’m sorry about that. When—” He faltered, took a breath. “When you were hospitalized, I sat in the waiting room, crying and pacing. Begging. Praying. I knew I wouldn’t get to see you. I knew it didn’t make a difference if I was there or not, but I had to stay. I had to know you were okay. I didn’t leave the hospital at all that night.”

  Maggie’s eyes shot to his face, frozen by
the stark pain she saw in the lines and edges of his features.

  “That’s all I wanted—for you to be okay. And that was how I knew how much I loved you. I couldn’t be selfish with you anymore. As soon as I knew you were going to be all right, I left.” Lance rubbed his eyes, revealing a sardonic smile when he dropped his hands.

  Maggie splayed her fingers, palms down, and studied them.

  “Judith found me in the waiting room early the next morning, told me everything was going to be okay with you. Gave me some words of advice.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Basically, that I was toxic for you, and if I cared about you in any way, I’d never try to see or talk to you again.” He shrugged, averting his gaze. “So I left.” Lance took a deep breath, the stricken look on his face crushing any lingering uncertainties Maggie had about her feelings for him.

  She loved him, and she didn’t know if she’d ever stopped.

  “I have to tell you this. I know it is years too late and it doesn’t change anything—we had our time together and it’s passed, but—I have to say this, at least once, okay?”

  She jerked her head, swallowing hard.

  “I ruined you. I ruined you, and I can’t take that back,” he whispered hoarsely. Eyes filled with regret, mouth a slash of self-recrimination across his face.

  Lance cupped her jaw, and Maggie placed her hands over his. His thumbs lifted to her cheeks, brushed across them like they had the power to heal past misdeeds. Maggie’s fingers tightened on his, pressed his palms closer, held him so that he couldn’t let go, not that time.

  “After it was over, I never thought I could miss someone the way I missed you. I didn’t think I was capable of caring that much. When we broke up, I was shredded, but I was able to deal with it because I could at least still see you. I was still working with you.

  “I did a lot of bad things after that, all to prove to myself and to anyone that was paying attention, that I didn’t need you, that I’d never loved you, and that I was okay without you. It was all a lie. I ruined you, Maggie, but you ruined me too.” His hands dropped from her face.