When Rob came to pick Maggie up the next morning, she thrust a piece of paper in his hands, wanting to know what he thought. He looked at it and frowned. “Is this where we’re going? It doesn’t sound like the jail.”
“We’re not going there—at least, not yet. Or maybe never. I don’t know.” She paused and tried to sound more reasonable. “That’s my father’s address. My mother passed away from a drug overdose, but my father’s still alive, and that’s where he lives.”
“Wow.” Rob pulled her in for a hug. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not entirely sure.” Maggie had to think about that question in order to answer it. “I was up pretty late last night thinking about things. I somehow knew that my mother was dead—that part didn’t surprise me. But I’d never really thought about my father having a life after prison. He went there, I never saw him again, and that was that—but of course it makes sense that he’d get out and live somewhere and maybe have a job. He might even be remarried. I should have asked Matt.”
“You said you aren’t sure if we’re ever going there?”
“I haven’t decided. I think that first, I need to wrap my head around the idea that jail wasn’t the end for him, that he still exists and has a life and didn’t just disappear the day he stepped out of my life.”
“A step at a time, and you’re in total control,” Rob told her.
“Yeah, that’s what Matt said too.” She tucked the piece of paper into her purse. She’d deal with that later. Right now, she had another Band-Aid to rip off. “Are you ready?”
“I am. Are you?”
“No. But let’s do it anyway.”
As they drove, Rob asked, “When was the last time you saw Zoe?”
“That would be about a week and a half ago, when the police came to pick her up and told me I had fifteen minutes to get out of there.”
“So, your landlord and the cops have kind of the same idea going on there—fifteen minutes is all a person gets?”
“Apparently so.” Maggie shuddered. “They put handcuffs on her and marched her away like . . . well, like a prisoner, because that’s what she was. It was so awful.”
“I’m sorry.” Rob reached over and squeezed her fingers.
“She wouldn’t even look at me. She just kept her eyes glued to the floor the whole time, even when I tried to talk to her. I just don’t get it.”
“Well, maybe she’ll be more talkative today.”
When they reached the police station, Rob chuckled. “Never thought I’d be here two days in a row.”
“I’m just glad they haven’t moved her to a bigger prison yet. That would seem so . . . final.”
Rob promised he’d be waiting for her when she came out, and he sat in the lobby with a book pulled up on his phone. Maggie checked in at the desk, went through the whole pat-down procedure—which was about as much fun as a dentist visit—and was then shown into the visitors’ area.
It was several minutes before Zoe was brought in, and Maggie had nearly changed her mind a dozen times. She needed to do this . . . but she didn’t want to do this . . . but she needed to do this. The cycle went on and on. Finally, the door opened and Zoe was brought in, her wrists not cuffed together this time.
“Hey!” Maggie stood up and gave her friend a hug, which wasn’t returned.
“No touching the prisoner,” said the guard standing in the corner, and Maggie gave an apologetic shrug.
They sat down across from each other, and Maggie noticed how tired and thin Zoe looked. “Ashli and Lance got your stuff out of the apartment,” she said, trying to think of a way to start this conversation. “I ran into them when I was getting my stuff.”
Zoe didn’t reply.
“I could have gotten yours too—it wouldn’t have been a big deal.”
Still nothing.
“So, some cool news—I got a job at a new hotel that’s opening up. It’s a really nice place, historical.”
Zoe finally looked at her. “Why are you here? Is it so you can gloat and tell me how right you were and how wrong I was? Because I get that, okay? I messed up. Bad. Yeah, I tried to sell drugs to an undercover cop. I’m told that’s not the best idea.”
“I’m not here to gloat, Zoe. I wanted to see how you are.”
“No, I think you wanted to rub my nose in it. All those lectures you gave me about Dean, going on and on about your precious daddy and how he went to jail, and what a loser Dean was and how he’d end up in jail. On and on and on. Made me want to puke.”
Maggie sat back, feeling as though she’d been punched. “What?”
“Oh, don’t act all innocent. You’re so self-righteous, you know that? Talking about how you came from a home of drug addicts, but you were choosing a better way. I’m surprised you didn’t pull out your hymnbook and start singing about pearly gates and salvation. It’s not that easy, Maggie. It’s just not, okay?”
Maggie couldn’t even pull in a breath. She’d thought this visit would be awkward, and she’d been scared to come because she didn’t know what she’d say, but this went way beyond what she’d feared.
Zoe pushed back from the table. “You were right, I was wrong, and now I’m in jail while you’re working at your cushy . . . hotel, right? Whatever. Listen—don’t come back. I don’t need this.”
She walked out of the room, her guard right behind her, but Maggie was frozen. She felt like all the feeling had left her limbs—she didn’t know when she’d be able to stand up, let alone walk out of there.
“It’s all right, honey.”
She looked up to see that an elderly woman had slid into the chair Zoe had just vacated. The woman reached across the table and patted her hand. “Your friend is still in there—she just can’t get out right now because of all the stuff in her head. Drugs change the way people think. It puts ideas in there—makes them paranoid, suspicious of everybody all the time, and they think they’re the victims. After she’s been clean for a while and those drugs aren’t doing the talking for her, she’ll come around. You’ll see.”
Maggie blinked. “How . . . how do you know?”
“I’m here to see my son—this is his third arrest, and I don’t know what they plan to do with him now. We’ve been up and down this road so many times, I know every rut. You might consider me an expert.”
“But your son hasn’t come around?”
The woman sighed. “He was clean for five years—made me so proud. But then he met up with his old friends again. People can turn around—and they can also turn right back. It’s a nasty business.”
“I just . . . Zoe’s been my best friend since high school. She took me in when my parents were off doing who knows what. She was the pretty one, the popular one, and I looked up to her so much. I was the one from the messed-up home, she was the one with the cool car . . . I probably idolized her, to be honest. I thought she was perfect, I thought she was my best friend … was all that a lie?”
“Oh, honey. Don’t let what happened today ruin what sound like some wonderful memories. Hang on to those—remember what it was like before, when she was sober. That’s how I get through all this with my son—I think about his college football days or the time he took me fishing and I caught a fish bigger than his, and he swapped them in the bucket and tried to pretend that he’d caught mine. That’s who my son really is. Everything else—it’s the drugs.”
Maggie tried to smile. “Thank you. I’ll try to remember that.”
“Good girl.”
Just then, the woman’s son was brought in, and she went to greet him. Maggie used her trembling arms to push herself to a standing position, then left the room as quickly as she could. She had to get out of there—she couldn’t take another minute.
Rob came to his feet as soon as she entered the lobby. “Hey, are you all right?”
She shook her head. He tucked her into the shelter of his arm and led her outside, where he sat her on a nearby bench and she cried until she thought her chest would explode.
“She hates me,” she finally managed to say. “She sat there and looked at me with all this hatred in her eyes—I’ve never seen her look that way. She told me to leave and never come back.”
Rob held her a little closer. “I’m so sorry,” he said into her hair. “What can I do?”
She took a few gulping breaths. “You can take me to the hotel. I’m expecting plates and silverware any minute.”
“Are you sure? You look—well, you always look beautiful, but you really look upset.”
She nodded. “I can’t do anything about Zoe, and I can’t change my father or bring my mother back to life or any of the rest of it, but I can help get this hotel ready for its grand re-opening. This means a lot to Andrew, and to Jimmy and Marissa and Tabs and Florence and everyone else. That’s some good I can do today.”
Rob kissed her forehead. “You’re amazing. Come on—you can unpack dishes while I plant some flowers. We’ll both do some good in the world today.”
***
By the time they reached the hotel, Maggie looked much better. Rob was so relieved—when she’d first walked out of the prison, he’d thought he’d need to take her straight home, or maybe even to the ER. She was pale, shaking—she looked like someone had pulled the life right out of her. Now she had color in her face again and she’d even cracked a few silly jokes. She’d be okay—or at least she would be until later. He’d just make sure he was with her later.
Jimmy had arranged all the flowers according to a chart, and it was easy to tell exactly which plant went where. Rob pulled on some gloves and then knelt in the dirt, ready to do his part.
“Thank you for fixing the concrete, Mr. Rob,” Jimmy said. “It looks even better than it did the first time.”
Rob wasn’t so sure about that, but he was glad Jimmy thought so. “Thank you. We’re glad to help.”
“I know. Look!” Jimmy held out his arms. Florence, Andrew, Marissa, Tabs, Griffin, and even Tony were down on their knees in the flower beds, helping Jimmy make his dream garden a reality.
“They’re showing you how much they love you,” Rob said, feeling a sense of pride swelling in his heart.
“They must love me a whole lot. This is hard work.”
“They do love you, Jimmy. We all do. Now, let’s make this place beautiful.”
***
With every last dish, cup, plate, and pan washed, dried, and put away, the kitchen was finally ready to be used. Maggie ran her finger along the newly installed countertop, wondering what it would be like to run a kitchen this huge feeding hundreds of people. She was so glad that would be someone else’s job. Yes, she’d eventually oversee a whole tower full of rooms to be cleaned, but bed sheets were more forgiving than food—you could fix a messy bed easier than you could fix a burned pan of mashed potatoes. She knew that from personal experience.
“Okay, ladies, we’re done for the day,” she said, pulling off her apron. “Tomorrow, we’re going to take inventory of all our supplies and linens to make absolutely sure we have everything we need, and we’ll start the final touch-ups.”
“I don’t think we’re quite done for the day,” Cady said, looking out the window. “I see one more flower bed waiting to be planted.”
“Let’s go!” Laura was the first out the door, and Maggie laughed. They’d been washing up dust all day—she supposed it was time to get into some real dirt.
By the time the last flower bed was done, everyone had dirt under their fingernails and smudged on their faces, but everything looked beautiful. The colors were vibrant, the smell was intoxicating, and the height of each plant went perfectly with the height of the one next to it. Maggie had never seen such a well-designed garden anywhere.
“Everyone, could you please gather around?”
She looked up and saw Andrew standing in the middle of the yard, holding up his hands to get their attention. She stood up, brushed the dirt from her knees, and joined the small group that was gathering. Rob reached out to take her hand, but then pulled back, showing her how filthy he was. She laughed—she was just as dirty.
“Everyone, Jimmy has something he wants to say.” Andrew stepped back, and Jimmy cleared his throat.
“I want to thank everyone for helping me with my flowers. When I saw that my concrete was ruined, I thought it was over, but you all worked together to help me. That means a lot. You did a good job—I might give you jobs as gardeners!”
Everyone laughed and clapped, and Jimmy gave a little wave before stepping back again.
“And I want to thank you all too. When I said I wanted to open the hotel sooner than we’d planned, I know I caused a lot of panic, but you’ve worked with me and done all that you can do make this a success. You’ve shown me a lot of friendship, and that’s something I can’t ever repay.” Andrew swallowed. “This hotel means more to me than just a building or a business investment. It means family, connection, heritage, a legacy. It’s my dream to keep this hotel going strong for years to come as a memorial to those who have come before me, and hopefully, those who will come after. Thank you for being part of this dream.”
Again, everyone clapped, and he held up his hands. “We have a lot to do these last remaining days. For now, go home, shower—trust me, you need it—and get some rest. We’re in the home stretch—we can do it.”
The group broke up, each wandering toward their cars, and Rob walked Maggie to hers. “Can I come over in about half an hour?” he asked. “I’ll bring a pizza.”
“Of course, but only because I like pizza.”
He kissed the top of her head. “See you in a bit.”
She went home, hopped in the shower and scrubbed the dirt from under her fingernails, and felt a ton better by the time Rob came. He’d showered too, and he carried a box with something that smelled delicious.
They ate while snuggling on the couch, and then she rested her head on his shoulder while he played with her still-damp hair. If heaven could be found on earth, this was it.
“How are you feeling about things tonight?” he asked.
“Well, I had a lot of time to think while washing dishes and planting flowers, and I think I’m okay,” she replied. “My chest still hurts from what Zoe said—it’s so weird. It physically hurts, even though it was an emotional pain. But I’m focusing on remembering the fun things we did together and recognizing that the person I talked with today isn’t that same girl. I’m grateful for everything that she’s done for me over the years, and that’s not going to change.”
“That’s a great attitude,” Rob said, stroking her hair away from her ear. “And what about your dad?”
Maggie exhaled. “I’m going to wait on that for a little while. I need to figure out who I am first—independent of him or my mom or Zoe. I need to stand on my own and get to know myself. Then I’ll be ready.”
Rob gave her a little one-armed hug. “You amaze me. I think that’s exactly the right thing to do—learning more about yourself so whatever he says or does, you can be who you are through it. I’m so blown away by you.”
“Don’t be too blown away—this is going to take me a long time, and I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“That’s not going to happen. There is one thing I want to ask about, though.”
“Yeah?” She leaned back to look at him.
“When you mentioned figuring out who you are independent of anyone else, have you got room on this journey of self-discovery for me?”
She grinned, and some of the ache in her chest lessened. “Oh, I think I could find a little room. I’m very good at organizing—I was a Tetris player.”
“That’s an excellent skill to have,” Rob said as he tipped her chin up for a kiss. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him right back. She didn’t know yet if this relationship was going to end in marriage, but there was one thing she knew for sure—she was going to have an amazing time figuring it out.
Amelia C. Adams is a wife, a mother, an eater of tacos, and a taker of naps. She spends her days thinking up stories and her nights writing them down. Her biggest hero is her husband, and you just might see bits and pieces of him as you read her novels.
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The Kansas Crossroads Series:
(free!)
(A Kansas Crossroads novella)
The Nurses of New York series:
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The American Mail-Order Brides series:
The Hearts of Nashville series:
As part of the Brides of Beckham series by Kirsten Osbourne:
As part of the River’s End Ranch series:
As part of the Grandma’s Wedding Quilts series:
As part of the Magnolias and Moonshine series:
As part of the Burnt River series:
As part of the Rocky Mountain Romances series:
As part of the Mail Order Mounties series:
As part of the Seven Sons series:
As part of the Cowboys and Angels series:
As part of the Main Street Merchants series:
As part of the Brody Hotel series:
Short Fiction: