Chapter Sixteen
Maggie eased back against the cushions as she stared out the window. This plush chair was her favorite in her parents’ house. Tucked in the corner of the den, it was old and comfy and looked out on the spacious backyard. The leaves were all off the trees now, leaving scrawny naked branches that reached up to the overcast sky.
Thanksgiving, all about family togetherness, had left her with an acute sense of melancholy. Her family had been decent. She’d even go so far as to say she was enjoying the visit. Her sisters hadn’t aggravated her too much, and her parents didn’t ignore, as they had through most of her younger years, or smother, as they did after the accident. Helping with the cooking for the past two days had kept her busy, given her something to do. Now, as she sat full of Thanksgiving dinner, the melancholy returned as she gazed out at the gray sky. Gray skies reminded her of Dublin, and of Colin.
Oh hell, everything reminded her of Colin. She missed him so much it hurt.
Five weeks had gone by since she’d left Dublin, and him. A man of his word, he hadn’t asked her to stay. Since that talk where he’d poured his heart out, he’d never again brought up her possibly staying. He didn’t bring up any of it.
A part of her ached over that. She wanted him to ask her to stay, she admitted that to herself. But he didn’t. He helped her pack, he drove her to the airport, he kissed her like his life depended on her oxygen… and with a frown etched into his face, heartache plain in his eyes, he said goodbye and walked out of the terminal. She watched his back until she couldn’t see him anymore, and for the first time in a long time, anxiety washed over her at being alone.
She’d enjoyed the two and a half weeks in D.C., catching up with old friends from college and prior travels, staying at B&Bs in Maryland and Virginia before driving through the Blue Ridge Mountains. She stayed in small hotels, saw breathtaking natural vistas, taking her time through West Virginia and up to Ohio a few days before Thanksgiving, as promised.
And never stopped thinking of the wonderful man she’d left behind in Dublin.
She’d texted him when she arrived safely in the States, as she’d promised. He’d answered immediately, thanking her for keeping that promise and wishing her well.
A few days later, from a dark bar in Georgetown, she’d texted him: I miss you.
The next morning, she woke to his texted response: I miss you too. I love you.
She wanted to send him pictures of the monuments, the White House, things from the museums she visited. She wanted to write and write, to have contact. But she knew it wasn’t fair to him. So she didn’t text, or email, or call. If he loved her enough to let her go, she had to treat him with the same respect and let him go too. Keeping his hopes up that she’d return wasn’t fair… even if she found herself daydreaming about it often. Different scenarios played out in her head. Secretly arriving in Dublin, she’d surprise him by showing up at his office, or finding him at the pub… oh, how she missed the comfort of going to her local for a pint.
And no matter where she went, goddammit, Guinness just didn’t taste the same here in the USA as it did in Dublin.
She dreamed about him almost every night. When she did, she woke feeling both happy that she’d seen his face so clearly, heard his rumbling voice… and aching over his absence. When she didn’t dream of him, she woke feeling bereft, missing him anew.
No matter what she did, where she went, she thought of him. He’d gotten under her skin, burrowed deep into her heart, and she yearned for him. She was a hot mess.
The worst part was something she’d only begun to admit to herself: traveling wasn’t fun these days. She groused at having to pack and unpack, the continuous moving and shuffling… instead of feeling adventurous, she felt displaced.
Had the allure and appeal of traveling finally lost its luster? After almost a decade? Because of one man? Maggie just couldn’t believe that. The sum of her experiences couldn’t come down to wanting to be in one place with one man. She was just lonely.
You don’t have to be lonely, a voice whispered in her head. You chose that.
She closed her eyes and sighed.
“I thought you might be in here.” Her mother’s voice came from the doorway. Susie smiled at her as she crossed the room. “We’re all going to watch the movie. You joining us?”
Her family’s tradition, since she was a child, was to watch It’s A Wonderful Life after Thanksgiving dinner. Tonight, any distraction was welcome. “Sure,” Maggie said and got to her feet.
“Um… you’re staying another two or three days, right?” Susie asked.
“Yeah. I’m leaving on Sunday. Why?” Maggie cocked her head and half-joked, “Trying to get rid of me already?”
“Goodness, no!” Susie exclaimed. “I’d love for you to stay right through the New Year, but I know you never would. I’m just wondering if you’re going to look through your things while you’re here.” She tugged at her sweater and added, “Truthfully, I thought you would have by now.”
Maggie swallowed hard. Souvenirs from all her journeys were in her old room. Her parents had been kind enough to use it as a storage room for Maggie’s things. It was the only storage unit she had on the planet. A piece of her wanted to look through her stuff… but the rest of her had put it off, a sense of unease sweeping over her whenever she even got near the door of her old room.
“I know,” she said. “I have to do that, and I will. Either tomorrow or Saturday.”
“Whatever you want,” her mom said, and reached for her. “Can I have a hug?”
Maggie went to her mother and was folded in her sturdy embrace. It felt good to be hugged, and she savored it. For once, her mother was the first to let go, not her.
*
Colin rubbed his eyes as he woke up. A glance toward the window showed another gray, dreary late November day. Then again, every day had seemed dreary since Maggie had left.
He’d heard from her twice, when she’d arrived in America… but not since. She didn’t contact him, so he didn’t contact her. It hurt every day. He longed to talk to her. But he’d said he’d let her go, he had to stick to that.
What she didn’t know was that he’d kept traveling. Dublin felt empty without her. He couldn’t even stand to go to Reardon’s anymore; every time he had, he’d swallowed a kernel of hope that she’d changed her mind and would walk through the door. His stories had dried up, he couldn’t write.
So he took a page from her book. Suddenly, he understood the need to go to new places to leave ghosts behind. He kept moving.
Two weeks after she left, he went on an overnight trip to Belfast. Three weeks after she left, he took a short trip to Scotland. Easy enough; the flight to Glasgow was all of an hour and fifteen minutes. He visited several museums, restaurants, pubs. The way he’d dreamed of doing in his youth… the way Maggie had shown him he could do now. He figured she’d likely be proud of him. He was proud of himself.
But walking along, on his fourth and last day there, he’d come upon a sculpture on the street. The inscription made his blood run cold as he read it. From the renowned architect and artist Charles Rennie Mackintosh: “Without you, everything has a flatness. I feel as if I’m waiting for something all the time.”
It was exactly how his life felt without Maggie.
It hit him like a sledgehammer. Colin stood and stared at that sculpture for a good ten minutes. His writing hadn’t been able to adequately express how he felt, but that one quote did. He felt the longing for Maggie so deep in his bones, it brought tears to his eyes and almost made him double over.
He didn’t know if he’d ever see her again.
So far, it didn’t look good. Radio silence implied the forever type of gone.
When he got back to Dublin, Colin started writing again. Not stories, but letters. Long letters he’d never send. By longhand, in his notebooks, he wrote love letters, or just talked to Maggie, pouring his heart out. Telling her about his day, things he’d done and seen, his thoughts about life in general. He couldn’t talk to her in reality, but in his letters, he said every word. The ink and paper were his safe place to land, and it helped.
This morning, the patter of rain against his window made him groan. He didn’t want to get out of bed. Maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d blow off work today…
No he wouldn’t. That wasn’t who he was. But before he’d get in the shower, he checked his phone. It had become dull, checking his phone. A daily disappointment. Without messages from Maggie, who cared anymore? But this morning, there was an email notification, and he opened it. His heart skipped a beat, then soared. It was from Maggie. She’d sent it last night, while he was asleep.
Suddenly charged with adrenaline, he sat up a bit to read her email.
Hi Colin. Hope this note finds you well.
I’m in Ohio. I went to my parents’ house for a few days, for Thanksgiving. I’d been kind of dreading it, but you know what? It’s been nice. My sisters are okay, my baby niece is adorable, and my parents have been great. They’ve all been shoving food at me and I’ve been eating like a pig. Will have to do a LOT of walking when I get to New York next week. That’s the plan, by the way. I’ll be in NY for all of December (mainly NYC, to be specific). Don’t you have family there?
Anyway… last night, as is family tradition, we watched the old movie ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’ after dinner. Have you ever seen it? It’s a classic here in the USA, but I don’t know if it is in Ireland. It’s a Christmas movie, about the life of a man named George Bailey… it’s really amazing, and if you haven’t seen it, might I suggest that you do?
Thing is, it struck me: you’re kind of like George Bailey. He wanted to bust out of his small town and dreamed of traveling, seeing the world. Because of family obligations, that didn’t happen for him, and he was stuck in his tiny town. He resented it, and over the years it poked at him, and… well, I don’t want to spoil the movie for you in case you haven’t seen it. But he kind of reminded me of you. Then again, everything seems to remind me of you these days. He had a happy ending. I want you to have one too. One of your own making, which you can do now.
Also, I miss you. I really do. I hope my silence hasn’t made you think otherwise. I’d hate for you to think I don’t care about you, when I do, so much. I’m just trying to be fair to you. I don’t want you putting your life on hold, hoping I’ll come back. I don’t know when I’ll be back in Dublin. But I do miss that city, and I miss you. I can’t get you out of my head. Or my heart.
Even that feels unfair to tell you. But it’s the truth. You were so brave and honest about your feelings. I know how hard that must have been for you. So I wanted to reciprocate.
Hope you’re all right. Hope you’ll enjoy the holidays with your kids. I think of you…
Much love, Maggie
Colin reread the email three times before getting out of bed, unable to wipe the smile from his face. His heart felt a hundred times lighter. Her words meant the world to him. She’d missed him enough to tell him he was in her head and her heart.
He wanted to do something… he just wasn’t sure what. For now, he’d wait. She missed him. She’d reached out to him. It was something.
*
On Saturday afternoon, while her mother cleaned the house and her father stored some things in the garage, Maggie finally ventured into her old room.
She looked around, her breath catching. There were boxes of all sizes in neat stacks, all with her own handwriting on them from different corners of the world. Her mother had been careful with them, and Maggie appreciated that.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled her pocketknife from her jeans and began opening them, one by one.
It was like taking a stroll down memory lane. Holding a piece of jewelry from Greece, a leather jacket from Italy, a tiny painted sculpture from South Africa, a small blown glass bowl from Iceland… she could instantly see those places in her mind, recall them down to details. God, she was glad she’d done this, and so grateful her parents were willing to let her store things here.
Before she knew it, two hours had passed.
The next-to-last box made her frown in confusion. It didn’t have her handwriting on it. It was from Texas.
A chill ran through her. She recognized the address. It was from Zack’s family.
With fingers that had suddenly gone numb, she carefully sliced open the brown paper, noting the date on the stamp. It had been sent almost a year ago, in time for last Christmas, but of course Maggie hadn’t come home for that. She opened the box to find an envelope sat on top of a much smaller box. With her nerves on edge, she read the handwritten letter inside from… oh God, his mother.
Dear Maggie,
A friend of Zack’s from college sent a bunch of photos to us, thinking we might like to have them. His name is Jeff Cairns, maybe you remember him?
Maggie choked out a laugh and shivered. Jeff had been Zack’s roommate for the last two years of college. Of course she remembered him. A skinny, funny guy, he’d been like a brother to Zack, and Maggie had adored him. But after the accident, she’d barely heard from him. Like most of their college friends, she figured they either didn’t know what to say or didn’t care enough to try. Many of them had faded away quickly, or kept contact to the occasional comment on her website or Facebook page.
She kept reading.
The thing is, so many of the pictures have you in them too, of course. So I scanned them so we could have a copy, but I thought perhaps you’d like to have these. You should.
I know you still travel the world, I follow your blog. It’s been wonderful to see what you’ve done. The last time I talked to you, you said you were going to finish what you and Zack had started, and it seems you have. I’m sure he smiles down on you every day. But I do hope you’ll also take the time to find something more for yourself.
I know this may sound strange coming from your former mother-in-law, but I hope you find love again. You’re so young still, Maggie, and you’re a beautiful, wonderful person. Get married again and have a family of your own. Maybe you have and I just don’t know. It’s not my business. I just…
I just look at these pictures, and the love you and Zack shared comes jumping out. You have so much love and light inside. I hope you’ve found someone new to share them with. I know Zack wouldn’t have wanted you to be alone for the rest of your life. He loved you that much.
I hope when and if you find someone and get married again, you’ll let me know. Don’t feel weird about that! It would make me so happy to know you found someone new. You loved my son, Maggie. You made him so happy. And because of that, I’ll always love you and want you to be happy. I hope that you are, and will always be.
Take good care. My best to your parents. Happy Holidays!
With love, Donna Spencer
Maggie couldn’t breathe. She gasped for air, rubbing at her tightening chest. Her face felt hot and she felt woozy. She put the letter down with utmost care, as if it were made of glass, and opened the lid of the small, flat box with shaking fingers.
A stack of photos was inside, curled a bit at the edges, all loose and disorganized. About fifty of them. Photo after photo of her and Zack. At the cafeteria, in his dorm room, outside on campus, out and about in Chicago, at a party, kissing in a car…
“Maggie?”
Maggie’s head jerked up. Her mom stood in the doorway, gazing down at her with concern.
“Why are you crying, honey?” Susie asked. “What’s wrong?”
Maggie didn’t even realize she’d been crying. She couldn’t speak. She held up the pictures, grasped the letter and held it out. A fresh sob escaped her and she started to shake violently.
Susie sat beside her and swept her into a hug. Maggie sank into her arms and cried harder than she had in a long, long time.
Her mother rocked her, held her, said words to soothe. The pain throbbed through her, as raw and deep as if a scab had been ripped off her heart. And in a way, one had been.
Her father appeared in the doorway. Susie asked him to give them some time and he closed the door. Maggie kept crying until the tears ran out, until her throat was scraped and her sinuses felt like they were going to explode.
Her mother finally let go of her, grasping the nearby box of tissues. Maggie wiped her face, blew her nose, and sighed.
“This was like a kick to the stomach,” Maggie said. “Looking at those pictures brought back such specific memories… I hadn’t remembered them in years.”
“Of course, sweetheart,” Susie cooed, still stroking her back.
“I’d gotten to a better place with this,” Maggie said. “But lately, it’s been bad again. Nightmares…” She sniffed hard, trying to clear her clogged up nose. “I’ll always miss him. But the pain has been back. The fear, simmering.”
“Did something trigger it?” Susie asked gently.
“Yeah. I… I met someone.” Maggie drew a shaky breath. “I met someone wonderful. In Dublin. He loves me. And I left him there because I travel, it’s what I do.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “I’m afraid to love him, Mom. I’m so afraid to love again. What if something happens to him? What if he leaves me? I couldn’t take it, I can’t go through that kind of loss again…”
“Yes, actually, you could,” her mom said.
Maggie sniffled hard and looked at her mother.
“You’re a survivor. I know. I watched my girl fight her way back in the hospital, in the rehab, day after day.” Susie’s eyes flashed with sadness. “I didn’t know how you’d come back from all that. But you did. And thrived. I admire you, Maggie. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met.”
The air whooshed out of Maggie’s lungs as she stared. “Wow.”
“It’s true. But yes… part of how you survived is… you ran away from your grief, from your problems,” Susie said quietly. “You had the money and freedom to do that, so you did. Who could blame you? But, honey… when will you stop running?”
“I didn’t think I was running,” Maggie said. “I thought I was rebuilding my life.”
“Maybe it was both,” Susie said. “But it’s time to stop and face what you didn’t back then. Don’t you know that if you survived everything that happened, you can survive anything life throws at you? The only thing that would hold you back? Is you.”
It sounded just like things she’d said to Colin. Maggie blew her nose again, then picked up the letter. One line screamed at her: I know Zack wouldn’t have wanted you to be alone for the rest of your life. She pointed that line out to her mother. “You think that’s true?”
“Of course,” Susie said. “He wouldn’t want you to be alone for the rest of your life. I don’t think he’d want you to be alone at all.”
“I am so alone,” Maggie said. “I am. I needed to be before. I was still finding my way in the world without Zack. And I got to a good place. I really did. But now… I’m not just alone, I’m lonely. The truth is, I was feeling that way before I went to Dublin. And then I met Colin…” Just saying his name filled her heart with warmth. “I thought I was helping him heal from something. But you know what? He helped me too. I didn’t even realize it…”
“He loves you?” Susie asked.
“Yes. And I realized that I love him too. I’ve been unhappy since I left him, because I miss him so much.” Maggie wiped at her swollen eyes. “He’s so smart. And hot. And so grumpy,” she added with a laugh. “He’s forty-one. Divorced, has three kids and he adores them, they’re the most important things in his life. He hates his career. He always wanted to travel. So I asked him to…”
Maggie poured out the story. Holding the box of photos in her lap, she told her mother all about Colin McKinnon.
“He sounds like a fine, solid man,” her mother finally said. “And he’s waiting for you?”
“I think so. I hope so…” Maggie shook her head. “God, I’ve been so stupid. I’ve been awful to him.”
“Not on purpose,” Susie said. “And if he truly loves you, he knows that. Which is probably why he’s waiting for you.” She brushed back a stray hair from her daughter’s eyes. “Let him love you. Give it a try. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work, but you should give it a chance.”
Maggie felt a surge of panic. “I don’t know how to be settled down in one place. I’ve never done it, and I don’t know if it’s for me.”
“Well… what if you worked out a way to still travel, but have a place in Dublin as your home base?” Susie gestured around the room. “Eventually, all these things will need a home.” She touched her daughter’s damp cheek. “Everything and everyone needs a place to call home. Even you.”
Maggie recalled her instant thought when the bus rolled back into Dublin city limits: We’re home.
“Maybe,” Susie went on, “it’s time to consider that you want something new. That’s normal. That’s growing and changing, learning who you are and what you want at a new point in your life. And that’s not a disservice to Zack’s memory, honey. It’s like his mother said: he’d want you to be happy. I believe that too. You have to let yourself believe it.” She took Maggie’s hands. “It’s okay to love again. To let someone in again.”
“I don’t want to forget Zack,” Maggie whispered.
“You won’t. You couldn’t if you tried.” Susie smiled gently. “You can love a different person in a different way, and one has nothing to do with the other, you know?” Susie’s brow furrowed as she tried to find a different way to phrase what she meant. “You don’t have to love Colin like you loved Zack, and you’re not supposed to. They’re different people. And you’re a different person now than you were then. So… there can always be a place in your heart for Zack, and plenty of room in your huge heart for another man too. Loving one doesn’t cancel out loving the other. It just… adds to your heart. Does that make any sense?”
“It makes a lot of sense, actually,” Maggie whispered.
“Oh good.” Susie rubbed her hands. “Colin knows about Zack?”
Maggie nodded. “Sure he does.”
“Okay. Don’t you think he’d understand? And don’t you think you owe it to yourself to let yourself love again? Not for Zack. Not even for Colin, necessarily. But for yourself, honey. Everyone needs love. Everyone.”
Maggie’s breath felt stuck in her lungs. She stared at her mother as if with new eyes. “You make a lot of good points.”
Susie grinned. “Well, thanks. I think so.” She caressed her daughter’s back. “I’m just trying to help. Sounds like you’ve had all this stored inside.”
“I have. And you’re helping a lot. Thank you.” Maggie’s head was pounding. With care, she put the photos back in the box and set it aside, along with the letter. “You’re wonderful, Mom,” she finally said. “I’ve been… not so nice to you. I’ve been distant and uncommunicative… I’m so sorry.”
“You’ve been hurting,” Susie said quietly. “You went through hell. You had to find your own way back to solid ground. Maybe you finally have, even though it feels shaky right at the moment, you know?”
“Maybe…” Maggie’s eyes filled up yet again, and she tried to stem the tears. “I don’t want to cry anymore, dammit. My eyes are burning and my head hurts.”
Susie laughed and pulled her in for a hug. “Then stop crying.”
“God, I’ve been so…” Maggie shook her head. “I have a lot to sort out.”
“You can stay here as long as you need to. You know that,” Susie said, kissing the top of her head before pulling back. “I’m tired of leftovers. If I eat one more bite of turkey, I might turn into one.”
Maggie hiccupped out a watery laugh. “Same here.”
“How about we just order a pizza tonight? Is that okay with you?”
“That sounds perfect.” Maggie drew a deep, cleansing breath. “Thanks so much, Mom. Really. Thank you.”
“I love you, sweetie.”
“I love you too.”
Susie got to her feet. “I’m going to go call for delivery. Pizza, and a big salad. Come on down in a while, when you’re ready.”
After she left, Maggie looked down at her hand. With trembling fingers, she took off her wedding ring. She gazed at it in her palm for a long time, a few more tears leaked out… and she placed it carefully in the box with the photos.
Then she looked around at all the wonderful artifacts from her travels. They needed a home. She needed a home. It was time. It was something she wanted now.
She had a lot to figure out.
*
Colin put the book on the nightstand. He sighed and flipped the pillow for the cooler side. Insomnia had been a regular thing since Maggie had left. A glance at the bedside clock showed it was past two AM. At least the next day was Sunday, and if and when he finally fell asleep, he didn’t have to get up early for work.
His cell phone rang, making him jump. He looked at the screen. In shock, he answered the call. “Hello?”
“Hi,” came her voice, soft in his ear. “It’s Maggie.”
“Hi. Wow.” Excitement surged through his veins and he cleared his throat.
“I know it’s late there,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry if I woke you. I just… really needed to hear your voice.”
“It’s fine,” he said. “I wasn’t sleeping, actually. Was up late reading.” Her voice sounded ragged and nasal at the same time. She’d obviously been crying. “Are you all right?”
“Not exactly… had a rough evening. But I’ll be okay.”
“Anything I can do?”
“You’re doing it.” She paused. “God, it’s good to hear your voice. I missed it.”
“I’ve missed yours too,” he admitted. “You sound even more Yank than ever. Being back in the States does that, I gather?”
She laughed softly. “I guess?”
“Mmm. So… what happened? Want to talk about it?”
“No, I don’t. I just… wanted to hear you.” She paused again. “Do you still want to hear from me?”
“Constantly,” he murmured.
“Good to know,” she said. “I, um… I have some things I still need to work out. But… I just…”
“I’m here,” he said with quiet assurance. “I’ll be here. I’m always here for you, Maggie. Okay?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Thank you. I needed to know.”
“That hasn’t changed. It won’t. I love you.”
She was silent for a good twenty seconds. He wondered if the call had dropped. Then she said, “You mean so much to me, Colin. I…”
“I’m glad you called, and that I was up.”
“I’m exhausted. I need to go to sleep.”
“Do that, then.”
“I was supposed to leave for New York tomorrow,” she said. “But I’m going to stay with my parents for a few more days. I need to spend some more quality time with my mom before I take off again.”
“Sounds good. Enjoy that.”
“Thanks. Um… are you okay? Everything there all right?”
“Fine, Maggie. No worries.” I miss you like hell, I don’t sleep or eat much, but I’m fine. “Go get some sleep. Maybe I will too.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to you again soon.”
“That’d be grand. And Maggie… whatever this is. You’ll be all right. You were before, and you will be again. Just breathe, and remember… there’s a bloke in Ireland who thinks the sun rises and sets by you. You got this.”
“Thank you. You’re wonderful.”
“So are you. Good night, love. Take care.”
“You too.”
Colin burrowed into the blanket and rolled onto his side, thinking of Maggie. Smiling as he recalled hearing her voice. Hoping she’d be all right. Hoping she’d call again soon. Hoping she’d realize how much he loved her, and that she loved him too.