He leaned over stiffly, propping his left shoulder against her to peer through the window, taking it all in.
“Your garden looks awful,” he observed wryly, “but given the fact that for a goodly portion of the past nine weeks it was unlikely that I’d ever lay eyes upon the place again, I’d say ‘glorious’ was a bit of an understatement.”
The driver opened the door and leaned down to assist their exit. J.D. waved him away.
“Thanks, mate, but I’m okay.”
Leaning over with some effort, he offered his good left hand to his wife. They walked slowly up the drive, drinking in the sights of home, the house partially hidden by the yellows, reds, and oranges of the changing leaves. The delicate fragrance of the sweet autumn clematis that wound its way around a trellis near the back door floated toward them, borne by the soft early afternoon breeze.
“Ah,” he breathed deeply, “I love the sights and smells of a Pennsylvania fall. Oh, God, but it’s good to be home. There is no place on this earth that I love more than these few little acres and this house, Maggie.”
A few last roses—blush pink and wine red—stubbornly bloomed, despite the recent frost, near the back porch. Maggie touched their petals gently as she ascended the steps and pushed open the door.
“Looks like your dad got a new car.” J.D. paused on the top step, nodding toward the shiny black automobile parked near the garage.
“Funny Mom didn’t mention it. I guess with all the confusion these past few months—her having to bring the children back for school—it slipped her mind.” Maggie walked slowly through the back entry and into her kitchen. “Oh, Jamey, isn’t it heaven to be here?”
“As close to heaven as I’ve ever been,” he agreed. “I’ve missed this place more than I can say.”
“Mom? Dad?” she called into the front foyer. “Anyone here?”
The only sound was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway.
“I wonder where everyone is.” She ran up the steps, then back down, telling him with a frown. “There’s no one here.”
“Your parents probably took Spencer for a walk. The other kids would be in school,” he noted.
She wandered from one room to the next, touching things, talking to things, savoring the blessed familiarity of the home she so dearly loved. She was openly weeping by the time he found her in the kitchen.
“It’s all right… It’s all right,” he murmured, embracing her with his good left arm. “We’re home now and everything’s all right.”
“It’s been such a nightmare,” she sobbed.
“The nightmare is over, Maggie. We’re home and everything is okay now.” He kissed the tears from her chin. “And look, new artwork on the refrigerator gallery…”
He nodded toward the eclectic display of the children’s work that completely covered the large, white appliance.
“Oh, Jamey, look at this one,” she managed to laugh through her tears, “Molly did a picture of Spencer.”
Molly’s uneven printing announced the subject, “My Baby Brother,” clearly depicting a howling little boy seated on the grass.
“I’d say she captured his spirit quite accurately,” he mused.
“I can’t wait to see him.” Her eyes began to mist again. “I can’t wait to hold him.”
“Looks like the wait is over.” He pointed out the side window.
“Oh, my God, it’s Caroline. And Rick! And Spencer!” She ran out the back door and down the drive to meet the threesome as they meandered up the long drive.
Caroline held the tiny boy’s hand while Rick pushed the stroller, which was loaded with bags.
“Mommy… Mommy…” The little boy broke free from a startled Caroline.
“Oh, my baby.” Maggie gathered him up and held him tightly. “My beautiful boy… and Caro…” With one arm she reached to hug her friend.
“What are you two doing here?” she said as she cried happy tears. “Where are my folks?”
“Your brother’s baby decided to come early,” Caroline explained as she pushed a wayward strand of Maggie’s hair from her beloved friend’s face, “so your mom called on Sunday to see if I could fill in for her till you got home since she’d promised Kevin and Jenny she’d watch the other three while Jenny was in the hospital… God, it’s good to see you.”
“It most certainly is.” Rick engulfed her with a bear hug. “And you, mate, you’re a true sight for sore eyes.”
J.D. approached with an outstretched hand that Rick ignored as he hugged him as well.
“I’m delighted to see you, too.” J.D. patted Rick’s back. “But, ah, what are you doing here?”
“Giving the fair Caroline a hand,” he said with a wide grin.
“All week?” Maggie asked, looking from Caroline to Rick then back to Caroline again.
“Certainly all week.” Rick put an arm over Caroline’s shoulder. “You don’t think I’d make her try to handle this mob of yours unassisted.”
“Oh, I see.” Maggie tried vainly to repress a smile. “So you’ve been here all week. Together.”
“Yes.” A red flush crept up Caroline’s neck as she nodded.
“Well,” Rick said, trying to act nonchalant, as if the two of them being there—together all week—was the most natural thing in the world. “I think we should get our groceries into the house…”
Rick parked the stroller by the back steps and began to load his arms with bags.
“Here, let me give you a hand,” J.D. told him, then quipped, “one hand being all I have to work with these days.”
“What’s the prognosis on that?” Rick asked, nodding toward J.D.’s arm.
“It’s pretty much gone,” J.D. admitted grimly.
“No surgery, no therapy?” Caroline ventured.
“Nah. Bone’s healing a bit, but the nerves, the muscles, are pretty well shot, no pun intended. Maybe in time they’ll come up with something.” Noting the shadow that crossed his wife’s face, he attempted to lighten the mood, adding, “You wouldn’t know anyone who’s looking for a one-armed piano player?”
“Well, I’m looking for some new material… when you’re up to it, of course,” Rick hastened to add.
“I’m up to tossing some things around,” J.D. said with a nod. “Maybe tomorrow morning or so we can play around in the studio a bit.”
“I apologize, Maggie,” Caroline said as they entered the kitchen, “that the house isn’t in better order. Your mother had things in pretty good shape by the time we got here, but I’m afraid she’s much better at keeping track of things than either Rick or I.”
“You want to tell me what is going on?” Maggie asked when the two men had headed back to the drive to gather the luggage that had been left there earlier. “Since when have you and Rick—”
“Since the night you were… since your accident.” Caroline busied herself filling a coffee pot with water. “He was in New York when he heard it on the news and took a taxi—a taxi, can you believe it?—all the way down here. Rang my doorbell just after midnight. And you want to know the craziest thing? It was as if I was waiting for him, as if I knew that he would come.”
“And then what?”
“Then the next day we flew to London. That’s why I was there when they finally started letting you have visitors.”
“I don’t remember too much.” Maggie frowned. “I remember you were there and that Rick was there, but I don’t recall that I knew you were there together.”
“I think you had other things on your mind at the time.”
Maggie digested this new turn of events, then grinned with satisfaction. “I knew that someday you’d find each other.”
“Took us long enough.” Caroline shook her head. “God, if you look back over the years, how many times we missed each other. First Lindy, then Lindy’s baby, then my marriage to Allen. It just seemed the time was never right.”
“I guess this is the happy ending you’ve been waiting for,” Maggie said, smil
ing.
“The happy beginning, you mean,” Caroline corrected her, “and yes, we are very happy.”
“I’m so glad. I love you both so much, and I can’t wait to tell Jamey ‘I told you so.’ ” She laughed. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the two of you taking care of the children for us these past few days. I know they can be overwhelming, especially if you’re not accustomed to living under the same roof with so many.”
“It’s been a pleasure. The kids have been fine,” she assured her, “but I don’t know how you keep it all straight. This one has ballet this day, that one has tap the next, three of them have soccer on Tuesday, two on Wednesday. I can’t imagine how much longer I could have kept everyone’s schedules straight.”
“They will keep you running,” Maggie laughed, running her hand lovingly up the back of her son who still clung to his mother’s neck like a little monkey.
“Let me see that boy.” J.D. set the bag he carried on the floor and reached his arm out for the boy, planting a fond kiss on his son’s cheek.
The grandfather clock in the front hallway began to chime three o’clock.
“It’s almost time for the school bus,” Maggie noted. “Maybe I’ll walk down to the bus stop. I can’t wait to see their faces. Do they know we’re coming home today?”
“We didn’t tell them in case something happened with the flight schedule.” Rick poured himself a cup of coffee.
“I’ll go with you.” J.D. put Spencer onto the floor.
“Want a piggy ride,” the little boy told him, holding upreached arms to his father.
“Spence, Daddy can’t carry you on his shoulders anymore,” he told him, his voice cracking just slightly. “Would it be all right if I held your hand and you walked with Mommy and me?”
“Want a ride,” Spencer insisted.
“How about a ride on Uncle Rick?” Caroline suggested to the pouting boy. “He’s much taller than your daddy, you’ll be much higher up.”
“Okay.” The child flung himself onto Rick.
“Come on, Caro, we’ll all go.” Rick anchored Spencer firmly on his shoulders as the little parade moved toward the front door.
“Are you sure you can?” Maggie asked J.D., fearful the walk might be too much for him.
“Positive,” he told her firmly. “I can’t wait to see them.”
“It might be a good idea, Maggie. The kids have been really anxious,” Caroline agreed, wondering if she should tell them about the nightmares several of the children had been having. Maybe now that their parents were safe and at home the terrible dreams would end.
There was absolute chaos following the dinner hour, the children so delighted to have their parents home with them again that they resisted bedtime for as long as possible. Finally, toward ten o’clock, Maggie managed to usher them all up the steps. While the four girls readied for bed, she rocked her youngest in her arms, tears of happiness streaming down her face as she prayed her thanks.
She laid Spencer quietly in his crib and closed the door slightly, then followed the hallway to the girls’ rooms. Peeking into the room shared by Lucy and Emma, she found them both frantically searching under one bed.
“I knew you’d lose it,” Lucy was grumbling. “You’re such a dummy.”
“I am not.” Gentle Emma stood up, small fists clenched in frustration. “I put it in a secret place to keep it safe.”
“Yeah, so secret even you don’t know where it is,” taunted Lucy. “So safe we can’t find it.”
“What is going on?” Some things, Maggie told herself with an inner smile, will never change.
“I can’t find The Secret Garden,” Emma wailed, burying her face in her mother’s midsection. “I tried to remember where we put it so we could read the next chapter, like we used to before—”
“And she lost it.” Lucy, always anxious to cut to the chase, summed up the situation for her mother.
“Lucy, be nice and apologize to Emma while I get the book. I know exactly where it is.”
A moment later, Maggie returned, the treasured book in hand. She’d found it on her bedside table where they’d left it, months ago. The two girls climbed happily into their beds while their mother, almost choked by tears yet again, read softly, savoring the joy of sharing this small nighttime ritual. The young ones all sleeping soundly, she turned off the light and followed the steps to the third floor to the boys’ rooms.
“My heroes,” she said as she kissed her nearly grown-up sons.
“Mom, Dad’s all right, isn’t he?” Jesse asked with the greatest of concern.
“As all right as he’ll ever be,” she told him honestly.
“But his arm…” Tyler frowned.
“The doctors did the best they could,” she told them.
“He almost died, didn’t he?” Jesse said softly. “I heard Gramma… We were so scared, Mom.”
“So was I, Jess,” she admitted.
“We prayed every night, all of us did,” Tyler told her.
“I’ve no doubt that’s what pulled him through.” She was near tears again.
“We’re glad you’re home, Mom.” Jesse leaned back, permitting her for the first time in years to pull the covers up and tuck him in.
“So are we.” She leaned over and kissed them both before turning out the light.
Rick and Caroline were just preparing to turn in, as she descended to the bottom of the steps. She hugged them, thanking them for sharing their homecoming, then walked into the kitchen to lock up the back of the house.
J.D. had just turned off the outside lights.
“Think we should turn in, too,” she told him. “It’s been an exhausting day. Won’t it be lovely to sleep in our own bed tonight… What is it? What is that grin for?”
“That’s just how you looked the day I met you, your hair pulled back like that. Even had on the same color sweatshirt.”
“Probably is the same sweatshirt.” She pulled at the front of the red fleece top and laughed.
“You’ve barely changed all these years, you know that?” He reached out for her with his good hand and wrapped his arm around her, kissing her soundly.
“Well, you haven’t changed all that much either, you know. Except, of course, for that bald spot.” Her fingers searched the back of his head for the spot that had been shaved in the hospital when the slight nick from the bullet had been treated. The hair had, for some reason, stubbornly refused to grow back.
She wiggled out of his arms and turned off the rest of the lights, then took his hand and led him toward the front hallway.
“Come on, Jamey, let’s go to bed,” she coaxed. “I want to see if what they say about bald men is true.”
“And what would that be?” he chuckled, pausing as she locked the front door.
“That bald men make better lovers.”
“They say that, do they?”
“Umm-hmm.”
She had reached the landing and stopped suddenly. A large orange harvest moon hung above the trees beyond the house. She turned from it, shivering at the sight.
“Ah, but you can’t go through the rest of your life hiding from a full moon, Maggie.” He caressed her face. “It happened and it’s done and we move on in spite of it. We’re fine, sweetheart. We’re home with our children and we’re fine.”
“You’re not fine, Jamey. You can’t use your arm. You can’t play an instrument.” The angry words spilled from her.
“That’s all I can’t do, Maggie. Yes, I lost the use of my arm. No, I will never play the piano again, not like I did. But I can still write my music. I can still sing. And the most important thing is that we are alive. We have each other, we have our precious family, our wonderful home, our friends. Compared to what I have, I’d say what I’ve lost is insignificant.”
“How can you be so rational? We came very close to being murdered.”
“Close but no cigar.” He winked and fluttered an invisible cigar, doing his best Groucho Marx.
&nbs
p; “Don’t make jokes about it, Jamey.”
“Look at it, Maggie, look.” He gently tilted her face, forcing her to gaze out the window. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Big and round and golden. Just as it’s always been, as it always will be.”
She stared at it numbly, then nodded, “Yes, it’s a beautiful moon…”
“Now come along and we’ll see if a one-armed bald man can put your fears to rest once and for all.”
Later, when he had fallen asleep, she silently crept from the bed and crossed the carpeted floor. Raising the curtain to one side, she looked out with some trepidation, intent upon facing the night and the fears that haunted her.
It was a beautiful night, a beautiful moon. For the briefest moment, the terror she had known that terrible night washed over her, reminding her that he had almost been lost to her forever. As the fear slowly ebbed, she took a deep breath and looked over her shoulder to where he slept bathed in moonlight. She knew then with absolute certainty that he was right. They had the things that mattered most. They had cheated Brenner, had cheated death. They would live to watch their children grow, see each other through the trials of the coming years, grow old together, just as they had always planned.
What more, she asked herself as she turned her back on the night sky, did anyone have the right to ask?
Moments In Time Page 34