Moments In Time Read online

  He was there when she got off the plane, waiting for her as he’d promised. Her impulse was to run to him and throw her arms around him, but instead she walked casually to where he stood watching her approach. She dropped her bag to the ground, and they held each other for a long moment.

  “Oh, Maggie, Maggie, you feel so good to me,” he whispered. “God, it’s so good to hold you again. I thought the plane would never get here.”

  “Me, too. I was afraid it would get lost or crash and then I’d never see your face again.” She kissed him long and hard. “How far’s the hotel?”

  “Not too. Let’s get your stuff and go.”

  Maggie’s luggage was retrieved, a cab hailed. They sat in the backseat, drinking each other in.

  “You look tired,” she said, raising a hand to touch his face.

  “The result of too much travel, too little sleep. I told you this is a rotten way to live.”

  When they arrived at the hotel, he asked, “Do you need lunch?”

  “I ate on the plane,” she said, and held her arms open to him.

  They spent the rest of the afternoon trying to feed the hunger, the empty places filling up with contentment, the loneliness giving way to bliss. The intensity of their love-making rocked them both into exhaustion.

  “Damn. Look at the time.” He’d been laying in a half slumber for about twenty minutes or so and had glanced at the clock as he was about to turn over. “We have exactly forty minutes to dress, eat dinner, and get down to the arena for the show. What’ll it be, Mags, room service or the coffee shop? Decide quickly.”

  “Room service,” she muttered.

  “Fine. Call and order for us while I’m in the shower, why don’t you, and if we’re lucky, dinner will be here by the time I’m dressed.”

  She called down and ordered veal and spaghetti, salads, wine for herself, and beer for him. She lay back on the pillow, gloriously happy for the first time in weeks. Nothing had ever felt like the joy inside when she was with him.

  He came out of the bathroom, already dressed in his stage clothes, jeans and a long-sleeved blue-and-white-striped cotton shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow, tails out, as was his habit when he was performing.

  “You planning on joining me tonight,” he asked with a grin, “or were you planning on waiting right there till I get back?”

  “Just too lazy to get up. It feels so good to be here.”

  “Well, you’d better get moving. Your dinner should be here any minute.”

  As if awaiting the cue, there was a knock on the door.

  She grabbed her clothes and went into the bathroom, dressing as quickly as she could, knowing they were running out of time. He was halfway through dinner when she came out and sat down with him.

  “I apologize for starting without you,” he told her, “but we’re so hurried right now as it is.”

  “It’s okay. I’m not that hungry.” She picked at the salad and the spaghetti and drank half her wine.

  “You about ready?”

  “Just one second. I want to put some makeup on.” She picked up her purse and headed back to the bathroom and turned on the light.

  “Damn,” he heard her say.

  “What?”

  “My makeup case isn’t in here. It must have fallen under something when I dropped my purse in the bathroom on the plane.”

  “You don’t need makeup. You’re adorable just as you are.”

  She made a face. “How irritating. Now I’ll have to buy all new stuff.”

  “You can pick some up in the morning if you really think you need it, which I don’t. I think you look fine, great, with or without it. But right now, we really have to put a move on it.”

  J.D. had gotten her a great seat, front row, near the stage, close enough so that she could be easily admitted backstage after the show. He handed her the pass she would need, told her where to look for Joseph, the guard whose job it would be to keep tabs on her and escort her backstage when they’d concluded. They walked into the dressing room pandemonium, where Maggie was greeted by the band and crew.

  Rick took her into his arms and confided, “Good to see you, sweetheart. Maybe the old man will be his old self again now that you’re here. He’s been a miserable son of a bitch for the past few weeks.”

  Maggie laughed again, and within minutes, the band prepared to go on and J.D. asked Joseph to lead Maggie to her place before the lights went down. Soon she was into her seat, surrounded by an ocean of screaming faces. She became increasingly uncomfortable with the noise and the crowd swelling around her. The lights went down and then J.D. was on the stage twenty feet away from her, and she felt slightly less anxious. Soon the music engulfed her, and the tide of panic began to recede. When it was over, the great throbbing mass of vocal thunder surrounded her again, and she searched the crowd to her right for Joseph, who would lead her backstage and out of the madness.

  “You’ll be okay while I clean up? I’ll be very quick, I promise,” J.D. told her when she’d arrived back in the dressing room.

  She nodded and walked to the table the caterer had set up. Taking an apple from a fruit basket, she eased onto a small sofa as the door opened and a hearty cheer erupted from the band members. She looked up and saw that a group of about a dozen young girls were led into the room by one of the road crew.

  Rick grasped a pretty dark-haired girl by the arm, turned to Peter, the only married member of the band and said, “Hey, Petey, I think I’ve just found the cure for your depression. You know what they say, if you can’t be with the one you love—” Rick stopped midsentence when he saw the look on Maggie’s face.

  She averted her eyes, got up from the sofa, and set about to find the wine bottle to fill up her glass, giving her an opportunity to turn her back on Rick and the others.

  When J.D. rejoined them, still drying his hair with a towel, she motioned to the door with her head, signaling she’d like to leave.

  J.D. lay back on the pillow, exhausted and happy. “What a wonderful way to end two long, lonely weeks.”

  Maggie stretched lazily, arms and legs, and kissed his face before hopping out of bed.

  “Where are you going?” He watched her fumble with her purse.

  “To take a pill.”

  “You have a headache?”

  “I will if I don’t take the pill,” she quipped. “Birth control pill.”

  She was still fumbling around, then took everything out of her purse and placed it on the bed.

  “Damn. I know I packed them.”

  She took the purse into the bathroom and turned on the light. The small round pink plastic case was not there. Then it hit her, where she’d put them. She slowly walked back into the room.

  “Jamey, my makeup case…”

  “So buy some stuff in the morning. Now come back to bed and bring that unmade face here to me where I can kiss it and show you how appealing you are to me, with or without cosmetics.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed. This will ruin our weekend, ruin our time together…

  “What’s wrong, Mags? What is it? Come here and let me make it all better.” He reached for her and felt her rigidity. “You can’t be that upset about losing a few items that can easily be replaced.”

  “We can’t replace the pills.” The words seemed to echo in her head.

  “What?”

  “My pills were in my makeup case,” she said quietly.

  “The makeup case you lost.” The import suddenly became clear to him.

  She shook her head yes.

  The room was very quiet.

  “Well, then, I guess you’ll just have to call your sister the nun and ask her to say a few extra prayers tonight, Maggie. It’s been a very long two weeks,” he said as he gathered her to him. “I’m not sleeping on the sofa for the next three nights.”

  He had awakened her with sleepy kisses early the next morning, and he was deaf to her protests that serious consequences could result. It had been too long since they h
ad greeted a new day together, he told her, he would take his chances.

  They had both fallen back to sleep, and when she awoke up some hours later, she rolled over, somewhat disoriented, looking for her watch. It was twelve-fifteen. He was still sleeping like an exhausted child, but she was starving and wanted a cup of coffee. She quietly got out of bed and slipped into a pair of jeans and a sweater and, leaving a note for J.D. on her pillow, went downstairs to find the coffee shop.

  She stopped in the pharmacy on the first floor, bought eye shadow, mascara, blush, a lipstick. She headed for the counter with her selections and wondered if they sold condoms. One look at the stern-faced cashier, a woman of about sixty, and she knew she didn’t have the nerve to ask. She’d just have to remind J.D. She just hoped it wasn’t already too late.

  She walked into the coffee shop, looking around for a table, and was surprised to see Rick sitting alone in a booth. She hesitated momentarily, then walked over.

  “Is this seat reserved?” she asked. “Do you mind if I join you?”

  “Maggie.” She’d startled him. He’d appeared to be deep in thought.

  “If you’d rather be alone, it’s okay.” She hesitated, not wanting to intrude if he was not in the mood for some company.

  “No, no. Please. Sit down.” He motioned to her. “Actually, I was just thinking about you.”

  “About me? Why?” She slid into the booth opposite him.

  “Well, about last night, in the dressing room…”

  The waitress stopped at the table, took Maggie’s order, and returned in seconds with the requested coffee.

  “It’s okay.” She shrugged, recalling the scene with Peter.

  “It’s not okay. I should have used my head before I opened my big mouth,” he told her.

  “I got over it,” she assured him, signaling the waitress for some cream.

  “That’s not good enough. My words were poorly chosen, and I’m sorry. I was afraid that maybe you’d take it the wrong way, that maybe what I’d said to Pete caused you to be unnecessarily worried, maybe, about J.D.…” He paused, the ground becoming more unstable with every word.

  “It did strike a nerve,” she admitted as she tended to her coffee.

  “Maggie, J.D. doesn’t fool around anymore. I’m sure he’s told you that.”

  “You’d lie for him even if he did.” Given their longstanding friendship, Maggie knew this was an indisputable fact.

  “Yes, I probably would,” he admitted, “but I’m not.”

  “Do you encourage him, too, like you did Peter last night?” There was an edge to her voice now.

  “Ah, Maggie, it’s all in fun.” He replaced his cup into the saucer and missed, sloshing some of the brown liquid onto the table. She handed him a napkin.

  “Fun for whom?” she asked with some sarcasm.

  “Maggie, I respect you a lot, so don’t take this the wrong way. As long as it doesn’t directly affect you, I don’t see where you get off making a judgment.” Rick put his cup down again, more carefully this time, and locked eyes with her.

  “Well, we’ll see just how casual you are some day when one of these young ladies rings your doorbell with a tiny bundle in her hands and you’re burdened with a responsibility you may wish you didn’t have to deal with.” I should bite my tongue for that, she thought, I hardly behaved more responsibly last night. Or this morning. Jesus, what a hypocrite I am.

  “Well, since abortion is legal in this country now, there doesn’t have to be too many little burdens on anyone,” he said offhandedly.

  Their food had been served, and Rick was busy picking tomatoes off his sandwich when he realized she was glaring at him. “What?” he asked.

  “Don’t you think that’s a pretty cavalier attitude?” she said stonily.

  “It’s better than having a child nobody wants.”

  “Having an abortion is nothing you do blithely, Rick. It’s not like having a tooth removed.”

  He looked up at her, wondering if she was speaking from firsthand experience. It was none of his business and he knew it. He asked her anyway. “Did you ever have one?”

  “No, but two of my friends have. It was not an easy decision for either of them. They both found the experience devastating.”

  “Then why’d they do it?”

  “It was simply a necessity for each of them at that particular time in their lives. Both have regretted it. And I get a little upset when I hear self-centered, irresponsible men, who can simply walk away from the situation, say things like, Hey, no big deal, just get rid of it.” As she spoke, she wondered what J.D. would do.

  “Well, Maggie, all I can say is that I do think sometimes it’s better for people to not be born at all than to be unwanted, unloved, and, yes, a burden for everyone involved. Trust me, Maggie, I’m on much more familiar ground than you are.”

  Maggie watched his eyes as he spoke, saw a shadow pass over his face, heard the emotion in his voice.

  “What are you saying, that you think your parents didn’t want you?” she heard herself ask.

  “I know they didn’t, Maggie.” His voice was very low. She looked up curiously.

  “My mother walked out of the hospital—alone—three days after I was born and never came back. I haven’t the faintest idea of who she was, who my father was. And quite frankly, I’ve no desire to find out at this point.” He did not look at her and continued to pour ketchup on his french fries as he spoke, as if what he was saying had little importance.

  Maggie sat speechless, unable to even look at him after what must have been a painful admission on his part, for all his attempts to be blasé. Finally, she said, “Rick, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

  “It’s okay, Maggie, you had no way of knowing.” He waved a hand as if the whole topic was irrelevant.

  “Were you adopted?”

  “It was right after the war, Maggie. There were many of us, children without parents, and life was more than a bit disrupted in England after the war ended. Not too many people were looking for stray babies to take in. I grew up in a home with about thirty other boys also without families. We had each other, you know, but none of us really had anyone…”

  She fought hard to find something to say to him, sensing that he needed comfort and had probably needed comfort for many years in spite of his attitude to the contrary. She found herself at a loss and so said nothing.

  Finally, to break the silence, he looked up and said, “And that’s why I think abortion isn’t such a bad idea sometimes.”

  “You can’t really believe it would have been better if you’d never been born, Rick. You couldn’t possibly think that.”

  He didn’t answer her.

  “Rick, your boorish behavior aside”—they both smiled —“you’re a very gifted musician and, I suspect, a very good person underneath that role you play. I’m sorry there wasn’t anyone there for you when you were growing up. And while I know there’s no consolation in it, for what it’s worth you should know that there are people who care about you and who are there for you now. J.D. Me.”

  “Thank you, Maggie,” he heard himself say softly, and at that moment, her warm sincerity and genuine sweetness left him no doubt as to why J.D.’s love for her was so deep. Rick ached for such a woman, one whose heart would never falter, in good times or in bad, through success or failure. Secretly he despaired that he neither deserved nor would ever find such a partner in this life.

  J.D. strolled up to the table.

  “Well,” said Rick, forcing self-pity aside, “here’s the sleepy old man now.”

  “Is there room for one more body in this booth?”

  “Always.” Maggie moved over to make room for him.

  J.D. draped an arm over her shoulder, telling her, “I missed you being there when I woke up.”

  The love that shone in his face was so blatant that Rick had to look away, busying himself pushing french fries around on his plate.

  “So tell me, what did you eat?” J.D.
asked her.

  “Hamburger.”

  “Any good?”

  “So-so.”

  The waitress returned and handed J.D. a menu. He made a quick choice and ate the remaining chips from Maggie’s plate while he and Rick discussed a new guitar arrangement Rick had wanted to try that night. They agreed to work on it after lunch, along with a new song J.D. mentioned he was anxious to perform that night.

  “Do you mind, Mags? Would you rather sightsee or something?”

  “Actually, I don’t mind at all. I brought my running shoes with me and I think I’d like to jog for a while. As a matter of fact, I could run now if you’d give me the key.”

  He handed it over and kissed her cheek. “Be careful, please. And don’t get lost.”

  She went back to the room and changed, then took the elevator back down to the lobby. Out on the street, she decided to head toward the right, toward a park she could see in the distance. It was a lovely May afternoon, and she found Atlanta much to her liking. She reflected as she ran on how happy she felt at this minute, feeling the concrete under her feet, sniffing the warm breeze, lightly scented with a hint of floral and new grass. Few things made her feel better than running. She ran what felt to be her normal distance and walked through the park to cool down on her way back to the hotel. She was in a mild lather and felt great.

  The lobby was all but deserted when she strolled through to the elevator. She walked into the empty room and stripped off her sweaty clothes, took a shower, dried her hair, and lay down for a short nap. When J.D. got back to the room at 6:45, he woke her from a sound sleep.

  “Maggie, it’s late. Wake up, Maggie, we have to leave soon.” He shook her shoulder insistently.

  Her eyes opened slowly, obviously against their will. “What time is it?”

  “Any chance you could get dressed and ready to go really quickly?”

  “No, no chance,” she murmured sleepily.

  “Come on, Mags, move the bones.”

  “It was the run. I’m not used to running in the afternoon.” She yawned and sat up. "Did you get your song done?”