They flanked Crash and B. J. and the baby, Joseph on Crash’s right and Maxie on B. J.’s left. Maxie was wearing purple chiffon with gold shoes, the ones he’d returned to her. In the midst of the staid First Methodist Church, she looked like a Mardi Gras parade, and Joe couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was worth having at any price.
As the minister led them and the congregation through their promises to the child, Maxie glanced at him only once, and when she caught his eye she didn’t turn away for a long, breathless moment. If there was anyplace where prayers might be answered, it was the church. Joe was staking his future on today, and as he said a prayer for his nephew he also sent a petition winging heavenward for himself and for Maxie.
o0o
Claude drove with her to the farm in her little Beetle. He was in high spirits, humming snatches of songs, whistling, grinning.
“Good grief, Claude. This is a happy occasion, but aren’t you overdoing it?”
“There’s nothing I like better than secrets.”
“What are you talking about?” She glanced at the hot pink tote bag sitting in his lap. “And what are you doing with that enormous tote? You’ve been wagging it around as if you’re carrying the contents of Fort Knox.”
“Do you think anybody at church noticed?”
“I think it’s safe to say everybody who saw you, saw the bag.”
He held it up and inspected it. “It is rather garish, isn’t it?”
Suddenly Maxie began to laugh. “No more garish than my shoes. You never said what was in the bag.”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
She forgot about Claude’s mysterious bag when she saw the tent. Though she’d spent all the previous day decorating, she never failed to thrill at the sight of a big top. Red-and-white striped with red flags flying from the center pole, it occupied a large portion of B. J.’s backyard. She’d strung colored balloons and streamers from every pole, and wisteria and clematis cascaded from hanging baskets, spilled from enormous urns, and flanked the pathway.
“I’ve hired clowns,” Maxie said.
“Did you now?” Claude grinned. “I always did say, give a man a paint box and there’s no telling what he’ll do.”
“You’re incorrigible.”
“I do hope so, dear.” Maxie parked the car and they stood together under a magnolia tree before going into the tent. Claude turned to give her a quick hug. “Maxie, may all your dreams come true.”
“Thanks, but shouldn’t that wish be for baby Joe?”
“It’s a wish for all of us. Do you have a handkerchief? I always get teary-eyed at celebrations.”
“You’re speaking to the keeper of the linen.” She handed him a lace-edged hankie. “I don’t know what B. J. would have done without me all these years.” She was beginning to get a little teary-eyed herself. “Walk in with me, Claude.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
She took her friend’s arm and went down the flower-bedecked pathway and into the big top. In the center ring, surrounded by ginger and orchids and all manner of exotic flowers flown in from Hawaii, stood an antique carousel. Painted wooden animals spun round and round as tiny beveled mirrors caught the enchanted faces of children.
Maxie stood dead still, her hand on her throat. “It has zebras,” she said. Then, as excited as any child, she grabbed Claude’s arm and dragged him across the sawdust. “Can you believe it, Claude? Painted zebras!”
“I believe it.”
As she raced toward the carousel, Maxie caught a glimpse of Joseph leaning against a tent pole, looking very much at ease wearing his tuxedo in a circus tent. A clown with huge pink shoes and a green bulbous nose helped her onto a zebra. Laughing, her head thrown back, her slender throat exposed, she rode the carousel until she was giddy.
She closed her eyes for a second, reaching out for the clown. A pair of strong arms lifted her down.
“Is it true that angels ride zebras?”
Instead of setting her on her feet, Joseph held her against his chest.
“I’m no angel.”
“I could make a good case that you are.”
He smelled crisp and clean, of starch and woodsy aftershave and sunshine and fresh air. Up close he looked even better than from a distance. She lolled in his arms, not caring whether he put her down or not.
“The carousel was a stroke of genius. Isn’t that just like Crash to do something extravagant?”
Crash and B. J. strolled by with the baby. “Wish I could take the credit,” he said, grinning. He winked at his brother and strolled on by.
“You did this?”
“Guilty.”
“Baby Joe will always remember that his uncle rented a carousel for his christening party.”
Joseph merely smiled, then set her on her feet. “Enjoy the party, Maxie.”
Another meeting, another brush-off. She tossed her hair and stuck out her chin. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.”
Fuming and plotting, she marched off. Just wait till the jazz combo she hired got there. She’d show him a thing or two. If he thought her act at Bogart’s was outrageous, just wait till he saw her next performance.
Crash walked to the microphone to welcome his guests to baby Joe’s party, and Maxie was immediately ashamed of herself. She felt like a selfish beast, plotting her own revenge. The day belonged to baby Joe, not to her, and she was determined to make it the best christening party any little child ever had.
“None of this would have been possible without Joe’s godparents,” Crash was saying. “Maxie, Joe, come on up here.”
They came from opposite sides of the room, but Maxie was aware of every step Joseph took. Crash joined his wife, and they were on the stage together, standing side by side at the microphone. As Maxie smiled at the crowd, Joe leaned toward her.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he whispered.
“I’m no lady and you’re no gentleman.”
“True, but you’re the one wearing the skirt.”
Maxie took her place in front of the microphone. She had tried to write a speech, but everything came out stilted and formal, so she had decided to simply speak from her heart.
“Baby Joe, you are a child created in love and welcomed into the world by adoring parents, and you already have everything you need. But your aunt Maxie has a special dream for you: I hope that you will always keep the childlike wonder that allows you to see magic.”
While the crowd applauded, Joseph slid his arm around her waist and whispered, “I’m seeing magic, Maxie.” Then he was at the microphone. It had been such a brief encounter that Maxie thought she might have dreamed it. If she let herself, she could start to dream big dreams, but she’d been burned enough not to get excited by Joseph’s flirtation.
“I’ve never been a godparent before, and I can tell you that I’m more than a little nervous.” He was a man who knew how to play to a crowd. The minute they laughed, they were his. It was one more bit of evidence that he was formidable in the courtroom. He turned toward his brother with all the ease of a seasoned actor. “Next year we’re swapping roles: You be the godfather up here making a fool of yourself, and I’ll be the father.”
Maxie turned hot and cold all at once, and she hoped her face didn’t betray her turmoil. Though her heart was beating double time, she wasn’t about to get her hopes up. All good litigators were good actors.
Maxie wasn’t a bad actress, and she called on all her skill to stand on the stage as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening while Joseph finished his speech. As he ended there was a commotion at the tent’s opening. The crowd parted, and down the pathway came a clown wearing an enormous purple wig. And behind him trotted two animals.
“Zebras,” said Maxie. She looked at Joe.
“For angels,” he said.
The clown stopped in front of B. J., and Crash lifted her and the baby into the saddle of the first zebra. Then the clown stopped in front of the stage.
“This one’s for you, Maxie,” the clown said.
“Claude?”
“Guilty.”
“You knew about this.”
“You didn’t think I could keep a secret, did you?”
Suddenly she found herself lifted into the saddle. Joe leaned close and whispered, “Save the last dance for me, Maxie.”
They rode the zebras around the big top to cheers from the crowd, then Claude brought the impromptu parade to a halt underneath a banner that read “Reserved for Angels.” The band struck up “Thank Heaven for Little Girls,” with the bandleader at the microphone changing the gender to little boys.
Crash led B. J. and the baby in the first dance, and Claude swept Maxie onto the floor. Joseph was nowhere in sight.
“When did you know about the zebras?” she asked.
“Only a couple of days ago. Joseph called to apologize and ask for my help.”
“Apologize for what?”
“He was pretty bearish the day he discovered his bedroom suite.”
Maxie groaned. “That was not one of my better impulses. I still don’t know what to do about that, Claude.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s Joseph’s house. If he wants it changed, he’ll tell you.”
“You’re a good friend.”
“So you are, Maxie.”
As they swept around the dance floor, Maxie scanned every nook and cranny for Joseph, but he seemed to have disappeared. She thought about the life she had—the loving family, the good friends, the charming house on Maxwell Street, the thriving business—and she was content.
“For two mavericks, we’ve done all right, haven’t we, Claude?”
“Yes. In some ways we’re two of a kind. You won’t forget me when your prince comes to claim you, will you?”
“Never. What prince?”
“Look over your shoulder.”
The song ended, and as the band began another, Claude handed Maxie over to Joseph.
“Claude deserves the first dance, but I’m selfish. I’m claiming all the rest.”
“What new game is this?”
“This is no game. This is your life, and mine.”
They danced just as they had loved, as if they were made for each other.
“Thank you for renting zebras, Joe.”
“Do you know what they mean, Maxie?”
“If I were bold I’d say they mean you changed your mind about me.”
He laughed. “You’ve never lacked boldness, and you would be exactly right.” He pulled her closer and cradled her head against his shoulder. “I’ve changed my mind, but not my heart.”
She tried to pull back and look up at him, but he held her fast.
“The thing I didn’t know until I thought I had lost you is this: You’ve always had my heart, Maxie. Always.”
“Tell me the beginning.”
“You love this, don’t you? The romance, the grand gesture, the flowery speeches.”
“As long as they come from your heart.”
“They come straight from my heart, Maxie. That’s a promise.”
He waltzed across the sawdust and through the opening in the tent. A full moon rode across the sky, and a million stars lit the pathway. Spring flowers perfumed the air. It was a night made for romance.
Joe pulled Maxie underneath a giant magnolia, and leaning against the trunk, held her close.
“The beginning was the first time I ever saw you, Maxie. You were dressed in white, an angel, even then, though the twinkle in your eyes gave away the imp inside you. You walked into that banquet hall with your sister and I was electrified. My heart knew, even then. It just took my mind a while to catch up.”
He was everything Maxie had dreamed, saying wonderfully romantic things to her. But she had to remember that he was an expert with words. He made his living convincing people with his speeches. Was this just another level to the many games they had played, or was he playing for keeps?
She’d made too many mistakes in the past; she couldn’t afford to make another. She stepped back in order to gain perspective.
“You make a convincing case, Joe.”
“But you’re not convinced.”
“So, convince me.”
o0o
Once he’d made up his mind to woo Maxie for keeps, the first part of his plan had been easy, dazzle and persuade her with all the things she loved—zebras, carousels, exotic flowers, romantic gestures—all symbols of a happy, carefree life. But it was not enough. He’d known that from the beginning. To win Maxie would take more than smoke and mirrors, more than a dazzling show under the big top.
The ring was in his pocket, a square-cut emerald surrounded by diamonds. In the midst of a spring evening with a million stars as his witness, Joseph Patrick Beauregard dropped to his knees.
“I love you, Maxine Elizabeth Corban...”
Her smile was one of pure delight. “How did you know my name?”
“Magic.” He took the ring from its box, and it looked like stars caught in the palm of his hand. “I don’t know everything there is to know about you, but I want to know. I want to spend the rest of my life solving the delightful puzzle of Maxie. Will you marry me?”
“This means forever, doesn’t it?”
“Yes. This means forever. What will your answer be, Magic Maxie?”
Her grin was impish. “My answer will be yes, on one condition.”
“Is this negotiable?”
“No.”
“Then tell me the condition.”
“That I get to see that mole on your left hip. The other night in your wild-animal kingdom, I was too busy to look.”
He slid the ring on her finger, then picked her up and spun her around. Inside the big top the band struck up “Hard Hearted Hannah”—the vamp of Savannah.
“They’re playing our song, Maxie.”
“You did that, too, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
She rained kisses over his face. “Joseph Patrick Beauregard, I love you to pieces.”
He stood very still, and when she pressed her lips against his, he kissed her for a very long time.
“This is the last dance, Maxie.”
“I saved it for you.”
He slid her to her feet, and they spun among the flowers.
“You know where the last dance leads, don’t you?” he whispered.
“Yes. Take me there.”
o0o
He’d left soft lights burning in his bedroom, and now he added candles, dozens of them, flickering like fireflies in a jungle.
“Stand right where you are, Maxie.”
Joseph knelt, took off her gold shoes, and kissed each toe. Then he put the shoes on a shelf he’d added to the wall beside the bed.
“My trophy. What do you think, Maxie?”
“It adds the right touch if you want to be daring and different.”
He laughed with sheer joy. With Maxie he would always be challenged, always be surprised. He stalked her, eyes glowing.
“Do you want to take off my pants and let me show you just how daring and different I can be?”
“How can I resist?”
It was her turn to kneel. His zipper made a soft click in the stillness.
“Do I have to take them off right away?” Her hand was on him, doing magical things. And then her mouth.
He was filled with such a wildness and sense of freedom that he wanted to race into the streets and shout it to the rooftops.
She slid his pants to the floor, then gave a whoop of joy.
“Leopard print,” she said.
“Jockeys, size thirty-four.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and backed her against the wall. “The jungle beast is hungry, Maxie. Feel him roar.”
Her skirts billowed over his head as he took his fill. Soon that was not enough, he had to have more. He wrapped her legs around his waist. Their wild, primitive dance sent them reeling against the walls and tumbling over the floor.
“You are incredible,” he said.
“Only with you, my love, only with you.”
He peeled her dress away, and his clothes fell in a heap on hers. The mattress sagged under their weight, and when she was spread upon his bed he made slow, exquisite love to her, to his magic Maxie, his dream, his love.
There was nothing simple about the way they loved, nothing predictable or ordinary. Each touch thrilled, each thrust electrified, each kiss transported them to that realm where only true lovers go, that shining place beyond the stars.
And when at last they lay in each other’s arms, Maxie brushed his hair tenderly back from his forehead.
“I was so busy I forgot to see your mole.”
“I love the way you stay busy, Maxie. Do you always stay busy like that?”
“That depends on who I’m with.”
“Minx. There’s only one person you’ll be with from now on and that’s me.”
“In that case... indeed, counselor, I plan to stay busy like that for the rest of my life.”
“Hmmm.” He closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.
“Roll over, Joe.”
He laughed, loving this playful side of her. “Now? Just when I was getting comfortable.”
“Right this very minute.”
He turned on his stomach, and she leaned close to inspect his left hip.
“This is incredible,” she said. “I don’t believe it.” She traced his mole with the tips of her fingers. Shivers went all over him. “A lion! Are you sure this is real?”
“It’s real, all right, Maxie. And it’s already roaring again.” He flipped over and pulled her down on top of him. Smiling, she began to rock and sway above him. “I’ve never refused to answer the call of the wild.”