Maggie had heard from Sarah too. She got the job at the hospital, and was happy and busy. She still had a lot to face, adjusting to her new life, but she seemed to be doing well, and keeping busy helped her. Maggie knew, as Sarah did herself, that she had some tough times ahead, particularly when Seth went to trial. And after that, she had to make some major decisions. She had promised Seth and his lawyers that she would stand by him at the trial. But Sarah was trying to make up her mind about whether or not to divorce him. The key for her was whether or not she could forgive him. She didn't have the answer to that question yet, and had talked about it to Maggie a lot. Maggie told her to keep praying and the answer would come. But so far nothing had. All Sarah could think of was the terrible thing Seth had done when he betrayed everyone and himself and broke the law. It seemed an almost unforgivable sin to Sarah.

Maggie was still at the field hospital in the Presidio herself. They had been there for four months, and the office of Emergency Services was thinking of closing the camp the following month, in October. There were still people living in the residence halls and hangars, and some of the old brick barracks, but not nearly as many as before. Most people had gone home by then, or made other arrangements. And Maggie was planning to move back to her apartment in the Tenderloin later in the month. She realized that she was going to miss the companionship of all the people she lived with and had met there. In a strange way, it had been a good time for her. And the studio apartment in the Tenderloin was going to seem very lonely. She told herself it would give her more time for prayer, but nonetheless she would miss the camp. She had made some wonderful new friends.

Everett called her at the end of September, a few days before she was moving back home. He said he was coming to San Francisco to do a story on Sean Penn, and said he wanted to take Maggie to dinner. She hesitated, and then started to say she couldn't, desperately groping for some excuse, but couldn't find one that sounded plausible, so feeling stupid for it afterward, she accepted his invitation. She prayed about it that night, asking not to be confused, and to be only grateful for his friendship, and want nothing more.

But the moment she saw him, Maggie felt her heart pound. He walked toward her down the walk outside the hospital where she was waiting, and his long thin legs and cowboy boots made him look more like a cowboy than ever. He beamed as soon as he saw her, and in spite of herself, a smile lit up her face. They were so happy to see each other. He put his arms around her in a big bear hug, and then stepped back to look at her, drinking her in.

“You look terrific, Maggie,” he said happily. He had come straight from the airport. He wasn't doing the interview until the next day. Tonight was just for them.

He took her to a small French restaurant on Union Street for dinner. The city was back in order now. Debris had been cleared, and there was construction everywhere. Almost five months after the earthquake, nearly every neighborhood was habitable again, except the very worst ones, some of which had been without salvation and had had to be torn down.

“I'm moving back to my own apartment next week,” Maggie said sadly. “I'm actually going to miss living with the other sisters here. Maybe I would have been happier living in a convent than on my own,” she commented as they started dinner. She had ordered fish, and Everett was digging into a huge steak as they chatted. And as always between them, the conversation was lively and intelligent and flowed. They talked about a myriad of subjects, and then finally Everett mentioned Seth Sloane's upcoming trial. Just hearing or reading about it always made Maggie sad, especially for Sarah. It was such a senseless waste of a good man and four lives. He had been so foolish, and had hurt so many. “Do you think you'll cover the trial?” she asked with interest.

“I'd like to. I don't know how interested Scoop will be in that, although it's a hell of a story. Have you seen Sarah again? How's she doing?”

“She's okay,” Maggie said, not divulging any secrets. “We talk occasionally. She's working at the hospital now, in fund-raising and development. This isn't going to be easy for her either. He sure took a lot of people down with him.”

“That kind of guy always does,” Everett said without a lot of sympathy. It was Sarah he felt sorry for, and Seth's kids, who would never really know him now, if he spent the next twenty or thirty years in prison. Thinking about it reminded him of his son again. For some reason, he always thought of Chad when he was with Maggie, as though they were somehow invisibly connected. “Is Sarah divorcing him?”

“I don't know,” Maggie said vaguely. Sarah didn't know yet either, but Maggie didn't think she should be discussing that with Everett, and the conversation moved on to other topics.

They sat at the table in the French restaurant for a long time. It was cozy and comfortable and the waiter left them alone while they talked.

“I heard a rumor that Melanie is in Mexico,” Everett commented, and Maggie smiled. “Did you have anything to do with that?” He smelled her hand in it, and she laughed.

“Only indirectly. There's a wonderful priest who runs a mission down there. I thought they'd be a good match. I think she's staying until almost Christmas, although she's not telling anyone officially where she is. She just wants to spend a few months as a regular person. She's a very sweet girl.”

“I bet her mother went nuts over it when she left. Working at a mission in Mexico is not exactly on her usual star track, or in her mother's plans for her. Don't tell me she's down there too!” He chuckled at the vision, and Maggie shook her head, laughing.

“No, she's not. I think that was the whole point. Melanie needs to try her wings a little. It will do her a world of good to get away from her mother. And it will do her mother good too. It's hard to cut those ties sometimes. Some people have more trouble with it than others.”

“And then there are guys like me who have no ties at all.” He said it regretfully, and she watched him.

“Have you done anything about finding your boy yet?” She nudged him gently, but didn't push too hard. She never did. She always found a light touch more effective, and it was in his case too.

“No, but I will one of these days. I guess it's time, or something like that. I'll do it when I'm ready.”

He paid the check then, and they walked down Union Street. There were no left-over signs of the earthquake here. The city looked clean and beautiful. It had been a beautiful September, with lots of warm weather, and now there was the faint chill of autumn in the air. Maggie tucked her hand into his arm comfortably, as they strolled along, and continued talking about a variety of subjects. They hadn't intended to walk all the way back to the Presidio, but in the end they did. It gave them a little more time together, and was all on level ground, which was rare in San Francisco.

He walked her to the building where she lived, and it was after eleven, late enough so no one was outside. They had taken their time with dinner, and always seemed to fit together like two halves of one whole, each one complementing the other, in their thinking and opinions.

“Thanks for a nice time,” she said, feeling foolish for having tried to avoid him. The last time she had seen Everett had confused her. She had felt such a powerful pull toward him, but now all she felt was warmth and deep affection. It was perfect, and he was looking down at her with all the love and admiration he felt for her.

“It was good to see you, Maggie. Thanks for having dinner with me. I'll call you when I leave tomorrow. I'll stop by if I can, but I think the interview may run long, so I'll be rushing to catch the last plane. If not, I'll come by for a cup of coffee.” She nodded, looking up at him. Everything about him was so perfect. His face. His eyes, the deep soul and ancient suffering that peeked through them, along with the light of resurrection and healing. Everett had been to hell and back, but it had made him who he was. As she looked at him, she saw him gently lean his face toward her. She was going to kiss his cheek, and then before she knew what had happened, she felt his lips on hers, and they were kissing each other. She hadn't kissed a man since nursing school, and even then, it hadn't been often. And now suddenly she felt her whole being, heart and soul, pulled toward him, and his spirit mingling with hers. It was the sudden blending of two beings becoming one through a single kiss. She felt dizzy when they finally stopped. He hadn't just kissed her, she had kissed him as well, and she stared at him afterward with a look of terror. The unimaginable had happened. And she had prayed so hard for it not to.

“Oh my God … Everett! … no! …” She took a step back, and he grabbed her arm and pulled her gently toward him, and with her head bowed in grief, he held her.

“Maggie, don't …I didn't mean to do that …I don't know what happened … it was like a force too powerful to resist pulled us together. I know that wasn't supposed to happen, and I just want you to know I didn't plan it … but I have to be honest with you. It's how I feel, and have since the moment I met you. I love you, Maggie …I don't know if that makes a difference to you or not … but I do … I'll do anything you want me to do. I don't want to hurt you. I love you too much for that.” She looked up at him without a sound, and saw love in his eyes, pure, raw, and honest. His eyes mirrored what was in hers.

“We can't see each other again,” she said, looking heartbroken. “I don't know what happened.” And then she gave him the gift of the same honesty he had given her. He had a right to know it. “I love you too,” she whispered. “I can't do this … Everett, don't call me again.” It broke her heart to say it, and he nodded. He would have given her both his arms and legs. She already owned his heart.

“I'm sorry.”

“So am I,” she said sadly, and turned away from him then and walked silently into the building.

He stood watching the door as it closed, and felt his heart go with it. He dug his hands into his pockets, turned, and walked back to his hotel on Nob Hill.

In her bed, in the dark, Maggie looked as though her world had come to an end. She was too devastated and stunned for once to even pray. All she could do was lie there, thinking of the moment when they'd kissed.





Chapter 18




Melanie's time in Mexico had been everything she hoped it would be. The children that she worked with were loving, lovable, and so grateful for the smallest things people did for them. Melanie had worked with elevento fifteen-year-old girls, all of whom had been prostitutes, many of them previously addicted to drugs, and she knew that three of them had AIDS.

It was a time of growth and deep meaning for her. Tom came down to see her twice, for long weekends, and was impressed by what she was doing. She told him she was anxious to work when she got back, she missed singing and even performing, but there were some things she wanted to change. Above all, she wanted to start making her own decisions. They both agreed it was time, although she knew her mother would have a hard time with it. But she had to have her own life now too. Melanie said Janet seemed to be keeping busy without her. She had gone to New York to see friends, and even to London, and had spent Thanksgiving with friends in L.A. Melanie had stayed in Mexico for Thanksgiving, and she wanted to go back and volunteer there again next year. The trip had been a success in every way.

She stayed a week longer than planned and landed at LAX the week before Christmas. The airport was decorated, and she knew Rodeo Drive would be by then too. Tom picked her up, and she looked tanned and happy. In three months, she had slipped from child to woman. Her time in Mexico had been a rite of passage. Her mother hadn't come to the airport but had a surprise party waiting for her at home, with all the people who were important to Melanie. She threw her arms around her mother's neck and they both cried, happy to see each other. She could tell that her mother had forgiven her for flying away, and had somehow found it in herself to understand and accept what had happened, although during the party, she told Melanie about all the things she'd booked for her. Melanie started to object, and then they both laughed, knowing what had happened. Old habits died hard.

“Okay, Mom. I'll give you a pass this time. Just this once. Next time, ask me.”