Grimm's Last Fairy Tale (24 page)

Tears ran down her face.

“Oh, Roxanne, of all the places you could have possibly shown me, this one is the most beautiful and not just on a superficial, tangible level, but you know how dear books are to me. And look at all of them! They are everywhere.”

“I thought you might like it here. Let's find some books and sit and read.”

Maggie thrilled at the idea that not only was Roxanne astute enough to know how much she would appreciate this place, but that she would be content to just sit with her mother and read and not have to fill every moment with chatter.

“I love you, Roxanne, thank you!”

They spread out, went through the stacks and met back at some overstuffed easy chairs in the reader's section. The spent the next hour and a half perusing the topics most cherished by them and some that they had hesitated to investigate until now. The devoured the books with reckless abandon and when there were sate, they closed them up, put them on the rack of returns, and walked out the doors, hand in hand.

“That was the best time ever! Thank you, Roxanne!”

“Believe me, it was my pleasure. I'm here, right here, on the same campus with that amazing edifice and I never seem to find the time to just be there. It's always to look for something in particular for some paper or another, most of which I have absolutely no interest in, but have to spend brain cells defending or persecuting or proving. It was as much fun for me as it was for you. I'm sure of that.”

“That makes me very happy. So, where's dinner and where's Peter?”

“We're meeting him at The Global Shepherdess. It's kind of a hippie joint with food from around the world. There is something there for everyone. I know you'll like it. Peter introduced me to it. It's about ten minutes away. I'll drive.”

They arrived and Peter was waiting at the curb for them. At least, Maggie hoped it was Peter. It was a intellectually handsome young man who rushed to his daughter and planted a kiss on her lips.

“Mom, this is Peter. Peter, mom.”

“Mrs. Austen, I can't tell you how I've looked forward to meeting you. You have an amazing daughter who has literally changed my life. She has transformed me from an awkward geek into a suave and sophisticated man about town.”

Maggie giggled nervously until she realized that this was his brand of self-deprecating humor.

“I'm just kidding. Seriously though, I adore her and she loves me despite my socially clumsy afflictions. You've done a great job with her.”

Roxanne squinted and Maggie felt her palms getting sweaty, but the followed him to a table that was ready and waiting for them. After they ordered, Peter arose from his chair and banged his knife on his water goblet.

“Everyone, everyone, may I have your attention please? Everyone? I'd like to, in front of God and all you strangers who have no clue who I am, well some of you do. Hey, Frank, Stu, Jocelyn. Anyway, in front of this whole crowd, I'd like to ask this beautiful girl to be my bride. Roxie, baby, what do you say?”

The entire restaurant stood and applauded and it was the most exhilarating and nerve-racking moment Maggie could remember. She was so relieved at Roxanne's positive response. She had only just met Peter, but already she liked him well enough to want him spared the humiliation of a “no.”

He took his seat and slipped a gorgeous estate ring on her finger. It was lovely and clearly he had put thought, time and money into it. He took Roxanne's hands and for a few moments Maggie did not exist, and that was fine with her.

“They've all been called. They'll be here tomorrow evening. Your brother is giving you away. Your sisters are your bridesmaids. We'll all meet back here for a reception—I've reserved it—and then off to St. Bart's for a brief honeymoon. Back here on Tuesday for classes. What do you say?”

“Oh, my word. You know me too well. This is awesome!”

Roxanne jumped onto his lap and kissed him again and once more the restaurant stood and showed their appreciation for the moment. She turned to her mother.

“Mrs. Austen, I tried to reach you as well, and left a message on your home phone. It's just unbelievable that you happened to show up when you did. I just reached the rest of the family last night. I wasn't going to leave you out of this! Believe me.”

“Oh, Peter, of course. I understand. I hadn't even thought about it,” Maggie lied.

“You are the most thoughtful man I've ever met,” Roxanne gushed.

“I just knew that a big formal thing would take your attention away from your studies and I didn't want that. It's all going to work out. I have an apartment picked out for us and we'll move in during break.”

They finished their dinner, with much gazing and giggling, and then Roxanne asked if they could call it an evening. She had a lot of studying to do.

Peter offered to take her back to the dorm and Maggie conceded and made her own way back to the motel. She eagerly pulled out her laptop and began pounding the keyboard once more, effortlessly picking up where she had left off.

Hours passed and Maggie finally stopped to use the restroom and smiled at her progress. Just out of curiosity, she checked the word count. Fifty seven thousand words! Wow, this was so much more than she realized. She might actually have a novel here. Wouldn't it be fun if she lived to see it published?

When she finished, she plopped back down on the bed and continued pouring her thoughts into the computer. It never got stale. Every moment she spent writing became more pleasurable than the last. This was her passion and her only regret was that it took her so long to really get to it.

She heard the cell phone ring, but decided to ignore it and finish her thoughts. Finally, she came to the realization that it could be problems with Sarah or one of the other children or grandchildren and checked her voice-mail.

“Maggie, it's David. I want to talk to you. Call me back. It's important.”

“I will not,” Maggie cried out loud. “I'll do no such thing and you can't make me.”

However, this call broke her concentration and she decided to walk down to the end of the hall to the vending machines and grab a candy bar.

“Yes. You need to listen to me. That guide of yours, Jacob, he's been here. He's visited me. He's left me messages—weird messages.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like he leaves a book open with a pencil pointing to a passage. Passages from books warning me to leave you alone and to stay away from you.”

“That's Jacob alright. Maybe you should listen to him and leave me alone.”

“Those were the messages until now. He just left me one which threatened my life. Is that anyway for a spiritual guide to conduct himself?”

Maggie couldn't speak for a moment.

“That was not Jacob,” she stated without full conviction.

“I think you might be in danger. If he is capable of doing something like that, he is capable of anything. I think I should come and protect you. I would like to stay with you for awhile to make sure he does you no harm. Clearly this is one guide who is suffering from some ectoplasmic imbalance. You need looking after.”

“I'm fine, I can assure you. Jacob is fine. I think you must be reading something into this that wasn't intended.”

“Don't delude yourself. I think maybe this is some kind of poltergeist or something. I don't know. I know they can be good or they can be evil and I think you found yourself an evil one.”

“Goodbye, David.”

She hung up the phone and began to cry. The problem was, she had no clue why.

in which Maggie must set aside her fears, is surrounded by the

ones she loves, and giddiness ensues

Maggie's crying led to a headache and a night full of restless sleep, which was the last thing she needed. She had a wedding gown to purchase and this should be one of the happiest weekends of her life.

She awoke with swelled eyes, stuff nose, and a crick in her neck that worked its way up into her head and caused a throbbing that was drowning out anything pleasant.

“David. He called me and told me that you had been bothering him. He said you were leaving him messages—messages just like you left me in the beginning. In books. With pencils point out passages. Did you do that?”

“Certainly not.”

“Then how could he have known? Don't even tell me that he could make up something like that.”

“I don't know how to explain it. I can only tell you without hesitation that I had no part in what he's speaking of. I would never do something so base.”

“I guess this is goodbye then. I don't know who to believe, so I choose neither of you. I'm done. I don't need this kind of silliness in my life right now. A real man and a spirit duking it out over me is not my idea of flattery. Goodbye, Jacob. I've already told David goodbye. I mean it.”

Maggie meant it, once again, but for real this time, once again. She was through with men, once again.

She washed her face, got dressed and went down for some oatmeal at the continental breakfast. They were out, so she splurged on a bagel with cream cheese. Then she returned to her room to write until noon when she would have lunch and meet Roxanne.

The writing was going well, when Maggie realized she needed to check her journal for some notes she had written. She had learned years ago to keep a journal, not only the diary-type she had kept since her teens, but also to write down literary ideas. She emptied her bags and her suitcase and even her purse, but there was no journal to be found.

Maggie gasped. She clinched her fists. David. She had last written in her journal at David's house. It had entries in it about Jacob. She had slid it under her pillow when Mrs. Clark knocked on the door. David had not only found her journal, but had been reading it, which left Maggie feeling angry as well as stripped naked. Her most intimate thoughts were in that book. Feelings. Insights. Thoughts no one else knew. She had to get it back, but she had a wedding this weekend. There was only one recourse. She called him.

“David, I want my journal back now. I want you to get in your car and bring it to me and then I want you to forget you ever met me. I need that book now. Get in the car right this instant, while I'm on the phone, and bring that journal to Indianapolis. When you arrive, call me. I'll tell you where to meet me and I will have men with me. Big men. My son and sons-in-law who would love nothing more than to kick your boney little behind. Are you hearing what I'm saying? Now. Are you in the car yet? Do you have my journal and are you on your way to Indianapolis?”

“Yes.”

“Fine. I'll see you this evening. I'll wait for your call.”

Maggie patted herself on her back for her assertiveness and then threw herself onto the floor and began to sob. She cried for the part of herself that was now exposed to someone unworthy of it. She cried for the meanness she had shown to Jacob and the resulting accusations. She sobbed for how easily she could turn her back on love once and for all and for how many times she had done it. She cried until she heard a knock on the door.