When Joy Came to Stay (33 page)

There was a pause, but Alfie didn’t ask for any details. That was one of the things John liked best about Alfie and Mike: They never asked questions when they shouldn’t. “Okay, boss. A little girl. What’s she look like?”

John thought a moment and again a chuckle sifted up from his gut. “Like me, Alfie, okay? Watch for a kid that looks like me.”

Alfie thought that was even funnier than the bit about the redhead. He guffawed so loudly John had to move the receiver away from his ear.

“Hey, boss. Really, now. What’s she look like?”

“She looks like a little girl, Alfie. Never mind. Just call me, will ya?”

“Cell phone, right?”

“Right. I’m leaving in an hour, and I’ll check into a room somewhere in town when I get there.”

John moved to open the suitcase on his bed and began tossing in socks and underwear and T-shirts. Enough to last a week, at least. If it took longer than that, something definitely would have gone wrong. In that case, he didn’t want to think about what clothes he’d be wearing, since they’d probably be issued by the local jail.

“Understand?”

“Right o, boss. Got it all down on paper right in front of me. Uh, hey boss…two loads? You sure about that?”

“Absolutely. You and Mike just make sure you get hold of Kathy Garrett before she takes off early and we miss her altogether. I want her followed today, got it?”

“Got it.”

McFadden hung up the phone and made a mental list of the things he would need. At least one nice pair of pants and a
dressy shirt—one of the silk deals he’d picked up in Vegas last year would work. Just right for showing the judge he was the fatherly type.

He’d get to town, request an emergency hearing, and explain the situation to the judge. The suitcase already held the results of a quick but pricey DNA test done the previous week. Of course, the results would match those on the adoption papers—there was no doubt he was the kid’s father. He’d present the test and give the court a teary-eyed report on how he’d looked high and low for the girl with no luck until now.

Oh, yeah, and that he’d absolutely begged Maggie Johnson to keep the child, but Maggie had tricked him, moved to another part of the state and handed off the baby without his having any say in the matter. All he’d ever wanted was to claim his rightful spot as the baby’s father.

And now here he was, prepared to do just that.

Yes, that’s exactly what he’d tell the judge. And with the kid stuck in Social Services, what better timing?

Another chuckle slithered to the surface as John shut his suitcase. He figured he’d get a meeting with the judge by tomorrow. Matters involving children tended to get precedence. At least that’s what the redhead had told Mikey. Then it’d be just a matter of hours before John and Ben Stovall met again. The do-good lawyer could have the brat for all he cared, but first he’d have to pay up.

McFadden ambled across his expansive bedroom, pulled open the top drawer of a mahogany chest, and grabbed the loaded revolver. If Plan A worked, he wouldn’t need it. Stovall would give him the cash and make the call to Cleveland police withdrawing the assault charges. That done, John would happily make his way back home.

If Plan A failed, though, he was prepared.

One way or another, Stovall was going to cooperate. Even if it meant taking the kid by force.

I
N THE TEN MINUTES
M
AGGIE HAD TO CLEAN UP BEFORE MEETING
with Dr. Camas, she went to her private room and locked herself in the bathroom. She brushed her teeth to rid her mouth of the stale smell of vomit, and when she was finished, she leaned forward against the countertop and stared at her face in the mirror.

Nothing.

Not a single thing about her face or her eyes resembled the tenderhearted young girl who had attended that picnic so many years ago, when she first fell in love with Ben Stovall. Back then her dark blond hair and lithe, attractive figure were only added benefits. Her real beauty had come from somewhere deep within. It was something that burst through her smile and radiated from her eyes, something that made her face alive with the vibrancy of hope and the expectant promise of her future.

Maggie studied herself. How different would she look now if she’d told Ben the truth? Okay, so she’d made a mistake. She’d done the one thing a good Christian girl is never supposed to do: She’d had sex. But wasn’t Ben supposed to forgive her?

She let the question dangle in her mind for a moment, and the answer was clear. They’d only been friends back then. Ben might have forgiven her, but he wouldn’t have had any obligation to marry her. He very simply would have offered his condolences and moved on with his life. Without Maggie. He’d made it clear: He was looking to marry a woman of virtue, a virgin, plain and simple. Girls who gave up their purity were a dime a dozen, and Ben planned to hold out for someone like himself.

Someone with a modicum of self-control when it came to things of the flesh.

She drew back from the mirror, taking in her lifeless lip-line and the hardness around her eyes. She was still pretty, she knew. Fit, polished, store-bought. But no amount of money could undo the years of lies and the poison they’d bled into her system. No, the light that once burned inside her, the flame of youth and faith and hope and promise, had been extinguished long ago.

And it was all Ben’s fault.

I hate him, God…He never loved me, not a single moment Not for me, anyway.

Let no deceit come from you.

Maggie squeezed her eyes shut, and the Scripture faded. Just as well. She didn’t have time to think about it. She needed to be in Dr. Camas’s office in two minutes.

He was waiting as usual when she entered the room, calmly, coolly, so that the peace and confidence than ran through him fairly filled the air. Being in his presence made Maggie feel safe and warm, and as she sat down she exhaled slowly.

“You wanted to see me?”

Dr. Camas smiled, and Maggie knew this conversation would be slow and meaningful, like all her discussions with him. “Yes.” He shifted his position so that he faced her squarely, crossing one leg over the other knee, clearly relaxed. “It was something you said in group.”

“I figured.”

The doctor cocked his head curiously “Figured what?”

“The part about wanting a divorce. I figured that’d get a rise out of somebody in a Christian hospital like Orchards.”

Doctor Camas’s expression remained the same. “Actually it wasn’t that at all. You should know by now, Maggie, we aren’t here to force morality on you. That’s a choice you have to
make, something between you and God. We’re here to help you unravel your feelings because the knot you brought into this place was making you sick, remember?”

She felt like a petulant junior high student, and her cheeks grew hot under his gaze. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

Dr. Camas picked up a pencil and tapped the eraser a few times on his desk, his gaze still on Maggie. “No need to apologize. I just want to make sure you’re clear on our roles.”

If they aren’t pushing me to do the right thing, then what was I feeling in the bathroom before I was sick?
Maggie struggled with the question, but realized Dr. Camas was waiting for her response. “Okay I’m clear. So what’d I tell group that made you think I was making progress?”

He caught his chin in his forefinger and thumb in a gesture that had become strangely comforting to Maggie. “You said you hate your husband.”

Maggie’s defenses rose and anger burned in her gut. “Don’t I have a right? After all he expected of me and all it’s caused me in my life, don’t I have a—”

“Maggie…” He waited until he had her attention. “Did I put a judgment on your statement?”

She thought back a moment. It had to be wrong, making a statement like that about her husband. Didn’t it? “No. I guess not. But it isn’t exactly godly, telling a group of strangers that you hate your husband.”

A faint smile turned the corners of the doctor’s lips upward. “No, it isn’t. But it means you’re willing to talk about more than what happened.”

Her heart filled with uncertainty, and she blinked twice, waiting for the doctor to continue. “Meaning?”

“Meaning in the past you’ve talked about what happened between you and Ben. You talked about your pregnancy and how it felt to give your daughter up for adoption.” Dr. Camas paused, and Maggie dropped her gaze to her hands and felt the familiar pit in her stomach.
Where are you, precious baby girl?
She couldn’t take much discussion about the adoption now, not when she was dying to get out of Orchards and begin taking steps to find the child.

The doctor cleared his throat and she looked up again. “What you seldom talked about was how you felt about Ben. Until now.” He leveled his gaze at her. “Okay, Maggie, go along with me for a minute here, will you?”

She nodded.

“Why do you hate your husband?”

“Because he expected me to be perfect.” There was anger in her voice again, but she didn’t care. There would never be a better time or place to talk about this.

“He thought you were a virgin.”

“No, he
expected
me to be one. There’s a difference.” Maggie could feel her cheeks growing hot again.

“And since you weren’t, you lied to him.”

“I
loved
him! I had no choice.”

The room filled with the ticking sound of Dr. Camas’s wrist-watch. “What if you’d told him the truth?” The question was calm and measured and unquestionably reasonable.

Maggie huffed and crossed her legs in a blur of motion. “He’d have moved on to someone else.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” Who did Dr. Camas think he was, second-guessing her and acting like he knew Ben better than she did? “He was going to marry a virgin, no matter what.”

Dr. Camas leaned back in his chair. “Let’s try something for a minute.”

A sigh escaped and Maggie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This entire line of questioning was pointless. What was done was done. She hated Ben for forcing her hand, forcing her to give up her baby girl and to live nearly eight years of lies in order to appease his appetite for perfection.

The doctor was waiting and Maggie knew she had no choice but to go along. “Fine.”

“Think back, Maggie. What was it about Ben that first made you love him?”

She didn’t like the question. At this point in her life and treatment, she was finally getting over Ben, feeling strong enough to stand up to him, preparing for the day when she would face him with the truth and hand him the divorce papers. This was no time to muddle her emotions with a trip back to where and when and why she first loved her husband. She crossed her arms in front of her and clenched her jaw. “I think we’re past that, doctor.”

“Perhaps. But humor me, will you? What was it? Come on, Maggie, think.”

“Oh, okay.” She cast her gaze upward and studied the pattern of tiles on the ceiling. This was pointless, but…well, he was the doctor. She thought back to the picnic, to the way so many of her friends had been there that day. “He was different.”

“What do you mean? Go deeper, Maggie.”

She squirmed in her seat. “He knew what he wanted in life. When he talked about his faith it was like…a real thing, a real relationship. Stronger than mine, even; stronger than my parents’. And they’d been Christians all their lives.”

Dr. Camas nodded slowly. “But he said he wouldn’t marry a girl unless she was a virgin, is that right?”

Wasn’t it? Hadn’t he said it that way? Maggie thought hard…

She could feel the humid, night air on her skin, hear the worship band playing in the background. And suddenly it was as though Ben were sitting beside her again, the way he had been that night on the grass at the picnic. She closed her eyes and she could almost hear his voice…

She shook her head. “I don’t think he mentioned it that night, honestly. He said he knew God had a plan for his life and he…he wanted to obey so the plan would happen one day. Something like that.”

“Okay, so sometime in the next few weeks, then. He must
have told you he wouldn’t many a girl who wasn’t a virgin, right? Think back, Maggie.”

She sighed and her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes. He had said that several times. At least, that’s how she’d always remembered it. She shut her eyes again, squeezing out several tears that fell onto her cheeks. “He…we didn’t see each other that much, but we talked on the phone…”

Memories flooded her mind. Ben sharing his heart with her, and she with him. Snapshots of laughter and innocence and promises that lay ahead. But none of the memories was the one she’d hung onto these past years. Her eyes flew open as frustration swept her. “I can’t remember. Can we be done with this?”

Dr. Camas remained still, his eyes connected with hers. “I think you remember more than you’re willing to admit. Try harder, Maggie. Let’s lay it out so we can take it apart and figure out where the hate comes from.”

A gnawing feeling ate at Maggie’s gut, and she wondered if she’d be sick again before this session was finished. She did hate Ben, she had every right. But until she finished this…this
game
or whatever it was, she couldn’t move on. Gritting her teeth, she thought back once more—and this time she could hear her voice.

“How come you always talk about God’s plans for your life, Ben? How do you know He has plans for you?” She’d been playing with him, baiting him to see what he was really made of.

“It’s true, Maggie. The Bible says so right in Jeremiah and probably a dozen other places, too. That’s why I’ve never wanted to get too serious with anyone.”

“I don’t get it.”

Maggie could hear her response as clearly as if she had tape-recorded the conversation years ago and now had the opportunity to play it back over loud speakers.

She remembered the words…heard them again…and froze.

No…no!
That’s not how it was.
Maggie squeezed her eyes shut. Her heart and mind went blank…and cold. “I’m finished,
Dr. Camas.” She rose, wringing her hands and biting fiercely on her lower lip. “I need some air.”