Grimm's Last Fairy Tale

by Becky Lyn Rickman

  “Half nuts and half truffles. I had them customize a box for you at the confectioners.”

  Maggie could hide it no longer.

  “How on earth did you know?”

  “Know?”

  “That these are my favorites? This is getting a little creepy.”

  “Are you serious? I just guessed. I hoped you would like them. I wasn’t even sure about the nuts. So many people are allergic. These are also my favorites, so I took a chance.”

  They stared at one another and Jacob rolled his eyes. What was this thing that was developing between the two of them? Was this some game he was playing to try to lessen the damages she could lay claim to from him? It didn’t matter. He was intrusive and he needed to leave Maggie alone and let her rest.

  Jacob signaled to Maggie behind David’s back by slicing his horizontal hand across his throat, his way of letting her know she needed to cut this conversation short and get an afternoon nap.

  Maggie smiled and winked at Jacob and continued to chat with her visitor. Clearly she was enjoying the attention she was getting from this stranger. She had gone from a wish of never having anything to do with a man to being the recipient of the kindnesses of two.

  “So, Mr. Clark,”

  “David, please.”

  “So, David, what is going to happen here with this case? Despite your generosity, you were clearly negligent. What are the potential repercussions?”

  “I was arrested and released on my own recognizance. A hearing will be scheduled in which you will be asked to testify, I’m sure. You speak your peace. A judge decides my sentence. I may lose my license. I may spend some time behind bars. It just depends on the judge. It may affect my association with the bar.”

  “And what if I don’t press charges?”

  Jacob’s eyes shot darts at her. Was she serious or was she taunting one or the both of them?

  Again, she smiled over David’s shoulder.

  “It’s a hypothetical question. I’m just curious.”

  “The truth is, Maggie, may I call you Maggie? The thing is, I broke the law. This isn’t a civil case. Your testimony might or might not weigh in on the judge’s decision. If you, then, chose to, you could file a civil suit against me and collect damages beyond what you will receive from the insurance company.”

  “I see. Very interesting.”

  She smiled like the Cheshire cat. She was milking this.

  “Do you have children, David?”

  “I do. They are, of course, grown and on their own. I have two boys and a girl. I am still waiting on grandkids. They seem to be dragging their feet. I believe it is some sort of retribution for something I did to them as teenagers. Who knows?”

  Maggie chuckled.

  “Mine are the opposite. They breed like little bunnies. I have a brood and they are producing their own broods as fast as they can.”

  “I guess that must be a tribute to the way you raised them. They must like family if they want their own.”

  “No, they are just bent on showing me how to do it properly. They seek every opportunity to point out my inadequacies by correcting them in their own households.”

  “What a terrible thing to say.”

  Jacob was gaining some insight into Maggie’s assessment of her life as a mother. He wasn’t sure if she really felt she didn’t do the kind of job he esteemed her to have done, or if this was another attempt at self-deprecating humor. Either way, he felt it was in poor taste for her. He squinted one eye to let her know.

  “It was part humor, part truth. I do have one child that tells me time and again what a terrible job I did and how much better she could have done and will do with hers.”

  “And your husband?”

  “Two exes. The stories behind those marriages are too weird for color television.”

  Maggie was bringing out all the charm and wit she had been storing for so long in that trunk of safety.

  “Well, David, it was lovely to see you again. I’m almost glad you ran into me, but not really. I need to rest now. Would you mind showing yourself out? I have given the butler the day off.”

  “No, of course. I’ll be off then. You rest and maybe I could stop in again tomorrow. Same time?”

  “With pink grapefruit?”

  “Pink grapefruit it is!”

  “Oh, this has got to stop,” Jacob muttered under his breath. “I must find a way to nip this in the bud!”

  He could no longer refrain from speaking out.

  “You don’t have to respond in any way that will make the staff suspicious, but I would just love to know what is going on in that little calico head of yours. I have watched over you your entire life and you have always been so humble and most of the time so beaten down and now I am looking at this person who has become almost too self-assured. You are playing with someone whose gross negligence put you in the hospital. What am I missing? Oh, yes, I know. I am missing Margaret. Have you seen her?”

  Maggie’s face turned downward and tears began to trickle at first and then came the great deluge.

  “Oh, Margaret, I am so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  She did not speak. She only stared at him through red, puffy eyes.

  In came some cute little Nurse Nancy to the rescue.

  “Ms. Austen, what is it? I saw you crying on the monitor. Are you in pain? Do you need some medication?”

  “No, I’m fine. I just had a bad memory. I guess I was sort of remembering the accident.”

  “Oh, well, that’s actually a good thing, I think. Do you need for me to call someone for you to talk to?”

  “No, actually, I think I’d rather be alone, thank you.”

  Her eyes turned to Jacob as she said those words. He understood and he disappeared.

  In a mixture of complete bewilderment and shame, Maggie cried herself to sleep.

  Chapter 18,

  in which Maggie pines for Jacob,

  tries to dismiss real affection, and a

  trek is once again commenced

  The rest of the day limped along with the usual interruptions for medical assessments and Maggie found herself missing her bosom companion terribly.

  That night, she tried calling him softly without moving her lips, but he must not have heard her, because he did not come.

  She did not rest well, and when the morning sunlight peeked in through the blinds on the window, she glared back at it as if to chase it away.

  “You didn’t sleep well, did you?”

  It was a man’s voice, but it was not Jacob’s.

  “Oh, Dr. Franklin, I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I haven’t been here long. I was just waiting for you to stir. How are you today? The nurses tell me you had an episode of talking to yourself and a little bout of painful memory. Would you like to talk about either of them?”

  “No.”

  “You know, you are putting me in an awkward position. All the tests have come back negative and I think it may be appropriate to discharge you earlier than I had anticipated. That being said, I have some doubts about your competency. The trauma from the accident might have done you more psychological damage than physical.”

  “I assure you that I am of sound mind. It’s just too many years of living with cats. I’m sure that’s all it is. I would love to get on the road again and get to my children. I do have treatments to start and I don’t have to tell you that they should be started sooner than later.

  “No, you don’t. I’m going to go ahead and release you, but I will give you my cell number and a note to any future doctors you may have to see on your trip, just in case. Agreed?”

  “Thank you, yes! May I get dressed now?”

  “There’s time for all that. Have some breakfast. Shower. Then dress. I have copious paperwork to do. I’ll be back in about an hour.”

  “Great. I am a little peckish. I could eat a bear.”

  “I think it’s French toast this morning. We don’t do much bear here in Ohi
o.”

  Maggie showered, dressed herself, and took her time eating breakfast. Just as she was expecting the doctor to come in, she heard a man clear his throat. It wasn’t the doctor.

  “Oh, Jacob, I’m so glad you came . . . “

  “Jacob?”

  She turned to see David with the most enormous basket of the most perfect pink grapefruit she had ever seen.

  “Oh, it’s you. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Going somewhere?”

  “Yes, actually, I’m being released. I thought you might be the doctor bringing me my release paperwork.”

  “No, I’m just the schmuck that hit you and is bringing you another peace offering. So where are you headed? Will you be checking into a hotel?”

  “No, I’m afraid not. There are things you don’t know, David. Let me cut to the chase. I have cancer—lung cancer, to be specific. I am on a trip to see my children and their families before I start treatment.”

  “But, what about the trial?”

  “Thank you for the grapefruit, the other gifts, and the company, but I need to be on my way. You can deal with your own trial. I won’t be testifying.”

  “I kind of thought we might see one another.”

  “I’m so sorry if I gave you that impression. I haven’t had the attention of a man in a very long time. I have sort of a man repellent that I have put on and have been wearing for many years to deter that whole scene. I’m not in the market for a relationship. Under the circumstances, that would be thoughtless. But fee free to call my cell and let me know how things go.”

  “Margaret, you are an incredibly brave woman. I am so sorry that you are going through what you are going through, but I do very much enjoy your company. If you ever change your mind . . . if your circumstances changes and you would like a date . . . this sounds so awkward . . . please call me. I would drop everything to see you again.”

  Maggie gave him a genuine hug, smiled, and gave him a friendly shove out the door.

  She called for a rental car and waited for the doctor. She wanted to tell Jacob the news, knowing full well that he probably already knew, but she couldn’t take the chance of talking to him until she got the car and out of view of the hospital's big brother monitors.

  When she had signed all the forms and had checked that she understood all of the instructions, she was wheeled out to her car.

  “Please thank everyone for the great care,” she requested of the orderly.

  She drove to the lot where they had towed her car and surveyed the damage to its rear end.

  “Jacob, are you there?”

  “I thought you wanted to be alone.”

  “Oh, Jacob, I have missed you so much.”

  “What about David?”

  “David who?”

  Jacob smiled.

  She spoke with the shop and took one of their cards. Then she moved her things from the wreckage into the rental car, climbed in, and headed east. She decided to get on her way and that she would pick it up on the way back through.

  They had been on the road about two hours when Maggie’s cell phone rang. She pulled over and answered, only to find David on the other end.

  “Hello, what are you doing calling me?”

  “I don’t think we ended on a very good note.”

  “I don’t understand. Everything was amicable. I wished you well in your life. What else was there to say?”

  “I like you, Margaret. I don’t think it was an accident that I ran into you.”

  “No, you’re right. It wasn’t an accident. It was negligence. I have chosen to let that go.”

  “That's great, but I can’t seem to. Look we’re both alone. We both like a lot of the same things. I don’t see what’s so wrong with wanting to get to know you better.”

  “David, I’m flattered. Really, I am. But I have to tell you something. By all appearances, I am alone, but I’m not, really. I have someone in my life.”

  “I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I just assumed . . . there was no ring or mention of anyone . . . you were traveling by yourself. I feel so foolish. I just couldn’t bear the thought of you going through the whole cancer treatment thing alone.”

  “You needn’t feel silly. It was an honest mistake. I never mentioned it because I didn’t think you had any notion of us being, well, you know.”

  “Well, I’m sorry to have troubled you.”

  Maggie sensed the let-down in his voice and tried to smooth it over.

  “It was no trouble at all, I assure you. Thank you for calling. We’ll talk again sometime, my new friend.”

  “Have a good life, Margaret. I wish you well and much success with licking the cancer. If anyone can do it, you can.”

  “Thank you, that’s very kind of you. I hope you find someone.”

  With that, Maggie hung up the phone and turned to her specter.

  “David?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  “Right, then, off we go.”

  There was a silence between them as they traveled that was not uncomfortable and it defined an unspoken truth. Maggie and Jacob seemed to be in it together for the long haul.

  With only four hours to go before reaching her eldest daughter, Maggie was torn between trying to make it and stopping to rest. It was Jacob who convinced her that she needed to rest and that she would be much more equipped to handle the visit with some sleep and a nice shower.

  They pulled in for the night and Maggie declined to even bring in her laptop. Now was the time to rest and prepare for the emotionality that would follow. There would be time for writing when the journey was over and she was home again. It was probably a silly idea anyway. She wasn’t an author. She just liked to tell stories.

  Chapter 19,

  in which Maggie anxiously pops in on her eldest daughter and discovers

  that her intuition is as keen as ever

  Maggie worried whether or not she would be able to sleep soundly without the constant intervention of nurses, but to her surprise, once her head hit the puffy motel pillow, she was out cold until the warmth of the Pennsylvania sun shone through the heavy draperies.

  The morning drive was quiet as Maggie thought about the day ahead. She was anxious to see Rhiannon and her little family, but not looking forward to her reaction to the news. Rhiannon had always been a little high-strung. She tended to want to jump in and take over, having always viewed her mother as a little incompetent in the area of life skills. She was the one person who could still manage to make Maggie feel inadequate on so many levels.

  Just about noon, they pulled into the circular driveway of her eldest child’s suburban Tudor and Maggie thought about how it could make the cover of Better Homes and Gardens. It was perfectly landscaped and manicured, but she also knew the tension that often lived in this home. Rhiannon and her surface-sweet husband, Lawrence, often fought over nothing. They had a love/hate relationship and much of that was due to the abuse Rhiannon had suffered as a child. She was pitifully suspicious of most people, but was a very loving mother to her two little ones. She actively engaged in the moments she spent with her son, Ian, 8, and her daughter, Kathryn, 6.

  Maggie showed Jacob her concern with a pained expression and he gave her an uncharacteristic “thumbs up” as she turned to ring the doorbell.

  “Grandma!”

  Ian rushed out the door and wrapped around her legs, nearly toppling her. She dropped her suitcase and allowed herself to be pulled through the front door.

  “Mom?”

  “Rhi!”

  “What a surprise! Come in. Sit down. What’s going on?”

  Her daughter was one of the most intuitive people she knew. There were so many times as she was growing up that she and her mother shared an almost eerie connection, often warning each other to not do something they had planned for fear of what might happen. They trusted each other so much back then.

  “I jus
t wanted to come and surprise you with a visit.”

  “Mom, you don’t do that. What’s going on?”

  “Really, Rhiannon, you need to lighten up.”

  “Lighten up, eh? We can play that for a little while, but sooner or later you’re going to have to fill me in.”

  She gave her mother one of those looks that brought all of her feelings of inferiority to the surface. Maggie had to look away before those searing blue eyes found out the truth. The time had to be right and with the grandchildren buzzing around, this was not it.

  “Ian, take grandma’s bag up to the guest room, please. Kathryn, get grandma a glass of lemonade.”

  Once the children had departed, Rhiannon pushed the issue.

  “O.K, mom, spill it. Are you getting married again? Please tell me there isn't some weird man out in the car waiting to be sprung on us.”

  Maggie exhaled a frustrated breath and smiled a smile that was a little too forcefully serene.

  “You don’t fool me. Something’s up.”

  “Could we please talk about it this evening after the children go to bed?”