Read Grimm's Last Fairy Tale Online
Authors: Becky Lyn Rickman
Grimm's Last Fairy Tale (19 page)
She looked them each in the eyes for some sign of acceptance. Ronald was the only one who showed any kind of hope. Otherwise, there was maddening silence.
“So, Jacob, these are my friends, David, Ronald and Mrs. Clark. Everyone, this is Jacob.”
“Where is he?” Mrs. Clark was looking around as if she didn't want to offend him by looking in the wrong direction.
“Over there, behind David.”
She turned and nodded, “So nice to meet you. Boys, mind your manners. Say 'hello' to Jacob.”
They chimed in unison, “Hello, Jacob.” The flat, cautious monotone did not help.
Jacob couldn't hold his tongue.
“Oh, Margaret, this is ridiculous. I just wanted to check in on you. When are you leaving?”
Maggie now had to speak to the crew in a way that would answer Jacob's questions and not seem any more awkward than things already were.
“Well, folks, I'm probably going to turn in early tonight. Long day tomorrow, starting when I hit the road at lunchtime. I want to get most of the way there before I stop and sleep. My plans are to check into a motel and then arrive fresh the next morning,” Maggie said very deliberately.
“That sounds nice, dear.”
So far, Mrs. Clark was the only one speaking. The boys were still staring at each other and then at their mother and then again to Maggie.
Jacob responded curtly, “I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, Margaret. We'll talk then.”
These were sternly spoken words from the specter.
She let out an audible sigh of relief.
“So, how's dinner coming? Something smells really delicious.”
“It's pot roast with potatoes and carrots in gravy. I hope you're a meat-eater.”
“Today I am! Sounds great. Should help me sleep really well. Ronald, you must be happy about the gravy part of it. I know how much you love gravy.”
Maggie was quickly figuring out that filling the room with chatter was not making up for the earlier conversation. She put an end to the word vomit and waited for David to speak. He was such a take charge, assertive kind of fellow; surely he would jump in and pick up the slack.
He did not let her down.
“Maggie, would you like to help me set the table?”
“Yes, I would, actually. Show me what to do.”
They went to the hutch and David retrieved the place settings and Maggie set a nice table.
“Mom, how long before we eat?”
“About twenty minutes or so.”
“Maggie, how about a little walk before dinner?”
What she really wanted to do was to go upstairs and drown herself in the tub or at the very least, have another nap. But she had to be gracious to her host.
“Lovely.”
True to form, David took her hand and led her out the front door and down the sidewalk.
in which Maggie finds herself in discomfort and finally figures out that she doesn't have to explain everything in her life to everyone in her life
Maggie retrieved her hand from David's and shook it.
“Sweaty palms, sorry.”
“Maggie, why do you insist on denying my affections? If Jacob is really just your spiritual guy . . .”
“Spiritual guide.”
“Fine, whatever. If he is just a spirit, why aren't you open to a relationship with a nice human guy who has feelings for you.”
“What about my feelings?”
“Please don't stand there and tell me you have no interest in me, because I'm not buying it. I know. I've seen you looking at me. I've listened between the lines. I know there's something there.”
“You really are sure of yourself, aren't you?”
“Maggie, you've given me clues. Don't put this all on me.”
“I think we need to go back now. I've suddenly got a splitting headache.”
David grabbed her by the shoulders as she made her turnaround and slowly moved in for a kiss.
“Are you kidding me? First footsie at the table and then an uninvited kiss?”
“Maggie, what is going on with you?”
“David. Home. Now.”
She marched ahead, having a sudden burst of adrenalin. When she reached the door, she turned the handle and walked in and straight up the stairs to her “room” and plopped herself down on the bed. A well-defined sob made its way up through her body and she let it rip, muttering through the gasps.
“Clues, my eyeballs! I don't know who he thinks he is! Jacob was right!”
The household, now almost certain of her impending insanity, let her be. They did not wait supper, but afterward, left a plate outside her door and did a knock and run.
Maggie opened the door, took the tray to her bed and devoured the meal. She set the tray back outside the door and then locked it and whispered, “Jacob?”
He was there in an instant and didn't speak, but waited for her to unload.
“Jacob, I think you were right. You're always right. David is a cad!”
Jacob still did not speak or show any kind of emotion that Maggie was capable of discerning.
“Say something!”
“I don't know what to say, Maggie. I am here just for you. No one else. I have no ulterior motives.”
“And I know that you think David did.”
“I just had some suspicions, why? Has he said something to you about money or the accident?”
“No, he just put the moves on me. He was being a little bit forward for my taste.”
“I know that today things move so much faster than in mine, but that does seem a bit hasty.”
Now Jacob was showing some genuine concern. He had put down his guard and had Maggie's best interest in mind once again.
“Yes, I just wish I knew what he was up to. I can't talk long. They could be listening outside the door. They already think I'm psychotic! See you tomorrow?”
“Until then.”
Maggie brushed her teeth and slipped out of her clothes and into bed. She was eager for some sleep, but decided to prop herself up on the pillows and do some writing. It was such a welcome break from reality when she could get lost in the words battling it out in her head.
She wrote prolifically until Jacob popped in and startled her. She grabbed the covers and pulled them up over herself.
“Jacob, what are you doing? I didn't call you!”
“Maggie, tell me about what it is you're writing.”
“I can't. You'll see it when it's finished. Now get out!”
Jacob winked and slipped out to wherever it was he went when not with Maggie.
She had just collected her thoughts and was typing once more when there was a light knock on the door.
“Yes?”
“Maggie, it's Mrs. Clark. May I come in?”
“Just a minute.”
Maggie closed the laptop and pulled the covers up once more.
“Come in.”
She entered the room cautiously, as if Maggie were a known felon, and sat on the very edge of the bed.
“Listen, dear, I was just thinking. Maybe you could stay on another day or two. I have this friend, Dr. Lisa Schultz. She's wonderful. You would like her. I think the two of you could be good friends.”
Maggie chuckled, more out of frustration than amusement, and shook her head.
“I'm fine, Mrs. Clark, really. I know I seemed a little left of center this evening, but when I get tired and stressed, I often talk to my guide and since I am generally alone, I talk out loud without even thinking first. That's really all there is to it. I'm just used to being a loner.”
“And why is that, dear? You seem like a nice woman. Why would you choose to be alone? There are lots of nice men out there who could take care of you. My David is a nice man.”
“Oh, dear me, Mrs. Clark. I'm afraid you're a little out of your league here. My life . . . my history . . . with men . . . well, it's really just my business and I don't mean to be, well, rude or anything, but it's just that . . . I really can't talk about it. Only know this. I am very, very content in my life right now.”
“I see.”
Although Maggie knew without a doubt that Mrs. Clark did not understand at all, she thanked her again for her concern and told her goodnight in as sweet a dismissive tone as she could. Mrs. Clark took her leave without the accomplishments she was hoping for when she went in.
Maggie continued to write until she could no longer hold her eyes open and then closed the laptop and slipped into slumber still propped up on the pillows.
in which Maggie finally gets to say goodbye and hits the road only to have to deal with a confrontation from Jacob
Maggie awoke to another knock on her door.
“It's Ronald. Are you ready for breakfast? It's gravy!”
There was a sing-song chime to his voice as he said the word gravy.
“Yes, I'll be down shortly. Thank you.”
She washed up, dressed for the trip, anxiously thinking about the next twenty-four hours alone in the car with her music and the visit that would follow the next morning. Then, with a little dread, she made her way down to the table and took her seat facing the patio doors, but today, the sun was not shining in through them. Today, the weather had turned gloomy and there was a light drizzle.
Mrs. Clark broke the silence.
“So, how did you sleep, dear?”
“Very well, I think. I fell asleep sitting up, but I don't seem to be any the worse for it.”
David glowered and would not speak, but Ronald made up for his silence.
“So who are you going to see today?”
“Well, this is my second daughter, Rachel. She has a couple of kids and I can't wait to see them all.”
“How old are the kids? Are they boys or girls?”
“Brian is eleven and Sophie is eight. They are delightful and I can't wait to sit and read to them.”
“You like to read?”
“Oh, yes, very much. I write also. Did you know that?”
“No!”
“Yes, I do. Well, I mean, I'm just getting started, really. I've always written things down and my feelings about them, but I've never tried to put them into a book before, but now I'm working on that.”
“Is that why I saw you working on a laptop last night, dear?”
“Yes, actually, I was working on my book.”
“That explains so much. You creative types are always so, well, you know, colorful.”
Maggie's eyes opened wide enough to take in the whole room.
“Yes, that's it exactly. I'm colorful.”
“Oh, I didn't mean any offense, dear, it's just that in my family, people tend to run a little more on the analytical side—you know, math and science stuff.”
“Yes, I see. That explains so much. You know those analytical types tend to run a little bit—well, you know, without imagination or the ability to understand us creative types.”
Maggie knew she had said enough, but she was not sorry for it.
The rest of gravy was served without conversation and when the plates were clean, Maggie cleared the table and did the dishes without interruption and then went up to her room to gather her things.
“Maggie, may I come in?”
“It's your house, David.”
“Let me know when you're ready to go. I'll take you.”
“Thanks.”
“Look, Maggie, I get it. I know you're not interested. I just don't want to end what might be a nice friendship on an awkward note. Can we shake on it?”
Maggie felt a gush of relief and stretched out her hand, only to find herself being pulled into his arms again.
Maggie did something she had never in her life done before. She slapped a man in the face.
He pulled harder.
Then Maggie did something else she'd never in her life done before. She raised her knee and forced it into his power source.
He bent over and fell to the floor, rolling around in agony.
“Are you kidding me? You don't know a good thing when you see it. You'll pay for this in court. I was trying to play nice so this thing would smooth over, but you're going to be a very sorry girl when you take the stand and I start talking about you and your imaginary friends. You just wait. You're going to be so sorry!”