by Zart, Lindy
“I haven’t seen this much snow in a long time,” she said, smiling at him, with her mouth but also with her eyes.
Lance swallowed thickly, feeling his heartbeat take off. “We should take advantage of it.”
Maggie’s smile widened and Lance used his character to love her in a way he never could. He reached for her, his fingers trailing up the back of her neck to get lost in her thick hair. Maggie’s hands gripped his arms as though to push him away—she didn’t. Maybe it was the warning in his eyes, or maybe she was merely being professional. Maybe she didn’t want him to let her go.
“What are you doing, Derek?” she breathed against his mouth.
“Loving you, Cecilia,” he murmured back.
They’d struggled through kissing scenes since the end of their relationship, but that time, there was no stiffness, no anger. There was passion, and desperation, and longing. It was Lance saying he was sorry, and telling her he loved her. It was Maggie remembering her love for him, and maybe even forgiving him, however briefly.
She tasted the same, and better. She felt the same, and even though she seemed frailer, it was better. Maggie smelled like oranges. And better. Lance kissed her in a way he hadn’t before—without restraint, without fear, without doubts. Because they were over, and he could give all of himself to someone who didn’t want him, messed up as it was.
It was real, and it wasn’t. It was them, and it was two fictional characters. Maybe the show was all he got, the only way he could apologize. The only way he could have her. If so, he’d make the most of it. When they were boyfriend and girlfriend, Lance had always felt like they were running out of time, only he didn’t know why. It was a panicked, rushed feeling, a limit on what they had. He didn’t feel it anymore, because she wasn’t his.
Maggie pulled away, eyes wide and filled with tears. “I love you.”
She said it sadly, regrettably, but to anyone who didn’t know, she said it only with her heart.
Lance felt it then, knowing in his bones that soon there would come a day when he would no longer have any part of Maggie Smiley, not even Cecilia. It made him want to cry.
“I know. And I love you.”
Maggie dropped to the ground, startling Lance, and moved her arms and legs up and down.
“We have to take advantage of the snow,” she reminded him when he watched her in bemusement.
“Okay. What are you doing?”
“Haven’t you ever made a snow angel before?” She paused her movements, looking at him oddly.
“Maybe when I was five.”
Maggie sat up, grabbed his ankle, and tugged. Lance lost his balance and landed hard on his elbow, glaring at her. She laughed and tossed up snow in his face.
“You’re a bully.” Lance wiped the cold substance from his cheeks and nose.
“Lie down and make a snow angel, now, before I beat you up. How’s that for being a bully?” She grinned at him.
“What are you going to do, beat me up with kisses?”
“Whatever it takes.”
The scene continued on like that—happy, light, loving. And as they stopped filming for the day, it was obvious they’d found something they’d lost. Everyone felt it, moods considerably better than they had been before the holiday break. Lance paused as he left the set, surprised to find Maggie waiting. She was dressed in jeans with a black jacket and matching boots. Her breaths left her in frozen air as she exhaled, eyes shifting to him and down.
“Are you . . . are you waiting for me?” He felt stupid asking it.
“Yes.” She nodded, looking at him. “I wanted to ask you something.”
Lance squinted his eyes. “Like a trick question?”
“No. A real one.”
“Okay.” He shrugged. “Go for it.”
She turned her head to the side. “I just . . . I wanted to know . . .” Maggie nodded as Steven and Judith walked by, expressions curious as they gazed at the two of them. She waited until they were gone to focus on him. “What you said earlier today—was any of it real for you?”
“Why?” he asked brusquely. If he told her the truth, she was hurt. If he lied, she was still hurt.
“I don’t know. I have to know, one way or another. Because it felt real at times—most of the time.”
Lance studied her pained eyes. “I think . . . I fell in love with Cecilia, and I confused her with you. She’s not real. I was in love with a character, someone that doesn’t exist.”
Even as he lied, he told himself it could be true. If he told himself it enough, he could believe it. Lance was desperate to believe it. And then he realized it didn’t matter if he believed it or not, as long as she did. Lies could shatter hearts, but they could also mend them.
Her eyes were large and broken, something beautiful destroyed to ultimately save her. “You’re lying. You didn’t fall in love with Cecilia, you fell in love with me. Because she is me, and I am her. Tell yourself whatever lies you need, but don’t tell them to me.”
Maggie always saw through him.
“Then why did you ask me?” Lance frowned, his pulse quickening. “Do you still love me?”
She blinked and averted her face. “I did.”
Lance nodded, pretending his heart wasn’t stabbed by the fact that she used past tense, even as he’d expected it. “Right. That’s what I meant. I fell in love with a character and you fell in love with a lie. Neither were real, so what’s it matter?”
Maggie’s mouth trembled. She was fighting not to cry. “It was real.”
Lance lifted a hand to touch her and thought better of it. “It was real,” he whispered, after a long pause.
She swept past him, stopping to repeat, “It was real.”
After Maggie was gone, Lance nodded to himself. “It was real.”
MAGGIE—2010
THE SOUND OF voices, music, and the clinking of dinnerware led them to the Leaf Room. The room was long and wide, seemingly endless. Across the span of it sat a table lengthy enough to house the dozen or so chairs that graced each side of it. Tin lantern lighting added a romantic flare to the atmosphere. Maggie wasn’t sure why it was called the Leaf Room until she looked at the walls. The lower halves of them were plastered in what looked like real leaves in shades of yellow, red, orange, green, and brown.
“Interesting.”
Lance followed her gaze. “Very.”
He touched her bare back, eliciting a shiver from her, and smiled naughtily. “I find your dress far more so. It provokes countless questions. Are you wearing a bra, how does it stay up without straps? And most importantly, how does it come off?”
The dress was pale green, strapless, and fit her form in a flattering way, making her waist and tummy seem slimmer than they were. Maggie left her hair down, straightening the waves and parting it on the side.
Maggie eyed his suit. Lance looked casually polished in a charcoal gray suit with a black dress shirt. “I wonder the same about your outfit.”
Lance laughed and dipped his head close to hers. “I give you permission to find out later.”
Face flaming and nerves spiking, Maggie swallowed and turned her attention to those around them. As they made their social rounds, they were greeted by previous co-stars and other performers Maggie knew of, but not personally. She wasn’t sad to see that Tabitha Volden was not in attendance.
Catching a glimpse of Judith, she started for her, telling Lance she’d be back in a bit. He nodded, talking sports with Steven Stephens.
“You look beautiful,” Judith told her, capturing Maggie in a loose hug. The flowery perfume Maggie associated with her old friend was present, drawing her back to Virginia Beach and heartfelt conversations shared with a woman she admired.
“So do you,” Maggie told her as they parted, taking in the pixie haircut, the blond locks streaked with gray. “I saw you on ‘Herman’s Place’ a few months ago. You were phenomenal.”
“Thank you.” Judith offered a warm smile. “I’ve been offered a permanent
role.”
“That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you.”
“I see you’re here with Lance.” Judith gave her a searching look. “How did that happen?”
Maggie smiled softly. “It’s a long story. He’s different.”
“So are you,” she said knowingly, giving Maggie’s arm a light squeeze. “I’m going to mingle. Don’t go without saying goodbye.”
“Never,” Maggie swore, turning to the spot she’d last seen Lance.
He stood alone near the doorway, catching her gaze on him. His face dark with hidden thoughts, he studied her as she studied him. He felt inches from her when he was truly feet. Then he winked at her and turned toward an area of the floor that was raised up higher than the rest as Diane stepped onto it.
“Hi. As you all know by now, I’m Diane Friar. If you’d take a seat, please.” She waited until they were all seated.
Judith sat next to Maggie and when Maggie motioned for Lance to join her, he shook his head with a shrug and nodded to Diane. Maggie had no idea what that meant, but if he didn’t want to sit by her, fine. She turned her attention to Diane.
“I want to thank you all for coming. This is quite a thing, having all of you in my home.” Diane clasped her hands together and smiled. “I suppose I should start with a little background information on me and what I do. I worked as a therapist for years, mostly with children and young adults, and during that time, I saw a lot of saddening things. I wanted to reach out, to make a difference on a larger scale, but I never knew how. I set that goal aside when I retired and instead focused on running the bed and breakfast.”
She gestured to where Lance stood near the wall, his expression blank as he watched her. “Lance had an idea for a televised show. He brought it to my attention and we hashed things out, trying to think of the best possible way to do what we each had in mind while somehow incorporating both of our views, goals, and inspirations.”
Diane met the eyes of each of the twenty-something attendants. “The money you paid to attend is appreciated, but we don’t necessarily need money to get started. What we do need are sponsors—important people with voices that can make a difference, that will be heard. And that’s where you all come in.” Her smile deepened. “That’s my cue to step down and let Lance better explain.”
Lance touched her shoulder as he stepped past Diane. He smiled his winning smile and looked at the faces set his way. His eyes landed on Maggie’s, held, and passed.
“I asked you all here because I am on a quest. Originally, it was more of a selfish one. I thought a reality fitness show featuring me working with celebrities was a good idea. Don’t get me wrong, it could work, and it would probably do pretty well, but I think there is something better I could be doing.”
As Maggie listened to him, she tilted her head, an epiphany striking her, tightening her throat with emotion. Lance was responsible for the invitation. She swallowed and looked down to hide the tears that came to her eyes. He was the arrogant prick he’d mentioned that would be speaking. Lance had orchestrated the whole thing. That showed deviance, and ambition. Maggie was impressed.
He smiled dryly. “I was recently inspired by a friend and I want to inspire you. The reason I chose this place for the dinner is because Diane would like to donate the bed and breakfast to the program, and I wanted you all to see what you would be backing up.”
Maggie stared at Lance, seeing a new side to him, a side that was always there, waiting for him to discover it.
“We all deal with physical insecurities—even me, shockingly. When do those start? What causes them?” Lance paced back and forth, the passion in his voice unable to be contained as he moved like a caged animal. “Every adult with issues didn’t wake up one day and think badly of themselves. That started long ago, when their minds were sponges and soaked up everything around them. Every word, written or said, made those children into the adults they became.”
Lance faced the silent room, every eye riveted to him. “I want to change that. People need to be shown, as children, that they don’t have anything wrong with them. That will alter their whole outlook on life, and make them do things as adults they wouldn’t otherwise even consider. If you tell a kid they can do anything, and they really believe it, they can. Simple as that.”
Gesturing to Diane, he said, “Diane wanted to help kids. I wanted to help adults. Then we decided, why not help both? With the program we have in mind, we want to pair up kids with adults, have a buddy system, and let them encourage one another to better themselves—their mental and physical health foremost.
“I thought a show with multiple contestants was the way to go—it was brought to my attention, again by my friend, that that may cause conflict and feelings of ineptitude, so I would like to focus on only a few children and adults at a time. The word contestant isn’t even going to be used.
“This isn’t a game—this is a lifestyle. All activities are to be supervised. We want exercise programs, counseling sessions, pep talks, guest speakers, even craft time. We want this place to be a haven, a sanctuary for people, a place to learn how to make better choices, have better a self-image. I think that parts of the experience should be televised, only for promotional purposes and to get the word out. Commercials. Just enough to let people know what we’re doing.”
Lance paused and smiled a bright, white smile. “I think you know why I asked you all here.”
“Can I sign up?” Benton Jamison called from the back of the room and soft chuckles rang out.
“I hope you will,” he said. “We have a program for you, Benton.”
He slapped the side of his hand to his palm as he spoke. “Constant positivity is the difference between loving yourself and thinking you’re unlovable. I want to keep this short, so I’ll end with this: we have power. Let’s help children realize they have it too. If you’d like to hear more about the program and what Diane and I hope to do with it, don’t hesitate to approach either of us. Thank you.”
Maggie jumped to her feet, clapping loudly. Lance’s fervency, that spark of empowerment, spoke to her, made her want to take on the world and change it. Others applauded, but none as exuberantly as her. Lance found her in the crowd, smiled, and stepped away from the small platform. He was immediately flocked by dinner guests. She longed to approach him, but didn’t want to interrupt. It was his night, and he was acing it. Maggie contented herself with watching him, wonder swelling her heart.
“He’s turned into an impressive man,” Judith murmured from beside her.
Not for the first time, Maggie felt her eyes prick with tears. “Yes. He has.”
“You’re the friend he mentioned, aren’t you? The one that inspired him.”
She shrugged, a smile so wide it hurt her mouth, stretched across her lips. “I think so, yes.”
Her old friend patted her shoulder. “He has my support.”
Taking a deep breath, Maggie wiped her eyes and watched the man she loved make her fall more in love with him. The evening went by fast, most of it spent with her studying Lance from afar, but she didn’t mind. Maggie liked watching him. He repeatedly found her with his eyes, smiled, and found her again.
She slipped away from the party as night lengthened, tired from the drive and yearning for rest and Lance. Maggie took a long bath in the claw foot tub, letting the scented water wrap around her, and dressed in a slinky pink nightgown, she moved for the bed. A knock sounded at the door, soft and authoritative. Wanting to run to the door, Maggie paced herself with measured steps, one hand pressed to her pounding heart.
Maggie opened the door to a disheveled but content Lance. His jacket was gone, shirt untucked with the first few buttons undone. His dark hair was hanging partially over his forehead and he pushed it back as he smiled a sweet, exhausted smile. She squeezed the door to keep her hands from him.
“Hey, I’m sorry I was a sucky date. I just . . . well, you saw. I was hoping people would be interested, but I didn’t realize they would be that interested.
It’s—this is great. Really great.” Lance dazzled her by widening his smile. “Anyway, I wanted to apologize.”
“I accept your apology.” Maggie crossed her arms and rested her shoulder against the doorframe, trying not to let the emotions coursing through her veins overwhelm her. “You lied to me.”
“Yes.” Lance paused. “Which time are you referencing?”
“There is no reality fitness show for me to co-host. That’s why you told me no.”
“Well, there was the outline for one, but no, there isn’t, not anymore. I don’t need a fitness show to impress you when I have young minds to do the work for me.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
He looked down. “I was scared. I was nervous,” Lance quietly added.
Maggie swallowed, her throat tight at the confession he usually denied. “If you’re not going to need a co-host, then what do you plan on doing with me?”
Lance’s eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what she meant.
“I want to help,” she said simply.
“It could be months, or even years, before anything comes of it. There is a lot to figure out yet,” Lance warned, never looking away from her. The fatigue was there, but an alertness straightened his stance.
One shoulder lifted and lowered. “You’ll let me know.”
As he studied her, light hit his eyes and blazed across his face. Lance nodded, his mouth curved in a smile. He looked down, the smile growing as he turned his face away. “Yeah. I’ll let you know.”
Maggie took a deep breath, shaking from what she was about to say. “And right now, what do you plan on doing with me?”
Lance went still, carefully lifting his head. Maggie stared back, her lips parted, heart hammering against the wall of her chest. Time disappeared as they looked at one another. She wanted him to step into her room. His smile came back. Maggie wanted Lance to stay. As though knowing her thoughts, he winked at her.