Maggie squirted a dab of cream into her palm, then worked it into her hands as she climbed onto the bed, all the while smiling to herself.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had as much fun as this evening. Goodness, it was after 1:00 A.M. and she was still wide awake. Of course the pot of coffee she drank at the restaurant might have something to do with that.
But no, this was more than caffeine. She felt energized, as if an old pilot light was relit somewhere deep in her being, igniting youthful emotions. Not only emotions, but whole thought processes as well. If the room were larger, she would attempt a back flip.
Well, a cartwheel anyway. She giggled, envisioning how less than an hour ago she and her friends had performed a cheer in the restaurant parking lot.
She turned off the lamp now and slid to the foot of the old twin bed so she could look out the window. Stars flickered through the tree tops. A gentle breeze out of the west promised relief from the heat sometime before dawn.
They had all been there tonight—Susie, Jane, Rita, Judy, Lynn, and Donna. Her closest and dearest friends through school, all members of the cheerleading squad that graduated 35 years ago, gathered together the night before the official class reunion.
They had met for dinner at a landmark restaurant in the city. “City” was a bit of a euphemism for Rockville, the large town 20 miles down the highway situated along the river bank. It boasted factories, an airport, movie theaters, restaurants, a junior college, and a shopping mall. Compared to Valley Oaks it was a city. Compared to Los Angeles it was simply a midsize town and Valley Oaks was a village. At any rate, it had been and still was the “happening” place.
The old friends’ rapport was instant, sweeping away the years in the time it took to exchange hugs. Laughter erupted and didn’t subside until someone noticed dimming lights and the waitress’s yawns.
It was their common background. A startling realization occurred to her now. She had more in common with them than with anyone she knew in California. Granted, any group of women her age would find the same similarities these friends had found: at least half would be divorced, some remarried, some would be grandmothers, most would have in-depth knowledge of various weight-reducing diets, most would have colored the gray, and 99 percent would know that adolescent unsettledness didn’t hold a candle to this stage of life.
Beyond that, though, only these friends knew as she did what it meant to grow up in Valley Oaks. Each other’s mothers had a hand in molding them. They shared the same influential characters, from school staff to family doctor to pharmacist to librarian to pastor to county sheriff. Between them they had cried a river of tears and filled every nook and cranny of Valley Oaks with their giggles.
Soaking up the past nourished her. She felt a twinge of the overall contentment and joy that had accompanied her through childhood. Had she known them since? The contempt of Neil’s mother had whittled away at them. When Rosie died, they fled completely.
Then she met Reece, and he had helped her pick up the pieces. Although they were happy together, it was never quite the same. There was always guilt and fear hanging about the fringes. She assumed it was part of growing up. Baggage.
Come to me as a little child.
What were those words? They sounded like something from…church. Did Jesus say them? Children didn’t have baggage. Is that what He meant? To be like that with Him?
But what do I do with all this grown-up stuff? I can rationalize all I want, but I should feel guilty according to God’s law. I conceived a child out of wedlock. I’m thinking of leaving my husband. My second husband. I’m afraid of making a mistake. I’m afraid of death.
Maggie inhaled deeply. She had never admitted so much to herself in one sitting. What was it her sister kept telling her about guilt and fear? If we tell Jesus about what we do wrong, He forgives us, which means we don’t have to feel guilty. The future is in His hands, so we don’t have to fear it.
The stars blurred. Dear God, I’m sorry for the wrong things I’ve done. I’m sorry for Rosie. I’m sorry for considering divorce. But you know how lonely I am! Help me to figure out my future. Take away my fears. She paused. Help me to figure out my past and be like a little child again.
Odd. Reece wasn’t part of her childhood. He didn’t fit in here. If she became Maggie again, albeit a responsible version, would he like her?