Amazing Grace

“God, I could use a break from this,” Melanie said to her mother one particularly hot night in Kansas City. It had been a good show, but she'd turned her bad ankle hopping off the stage, and it hurt more than ever. “I'm tired, Mom,” she admitted, and her mother gave her a nervous look.

“If you want to keep selling platinum, you have to go on the road,” her mother said practically. She knew a lot about the business, and Melanie knew she was right.

“I know, Mom.” Melanie didn't argue with her, but she looked worn out when she got back to the hotel. She couldn't wait to have a hot bath and go to bed. She had meant what she said. She was dying for some time off. They were all getting a weekend off when they got to Chicago. Tom was planning to fly in to meet her. Melanie could hardly wait.

“She looks tired,” Pam commented to Janet. “It can't be fun to perform on that ankle.” They had gotten stools put on stage for her in every city, but it was obvious the ankle wasn't healing and Melanie was in a lot of pain. When she wasn't performing, she hobbled around on her crutches with her black boot. It gave her some relief, but not enough. And the ankle was still just as swollen. It hadn't improved at all. It would have been infinitely worse without their own plane. At least she could lie down on every flight. Flying commercial with all their equipment would have been nearly impossible, and would have driven them all insane. Checking luggage and equipment in would have required their spending hours boarding the flight. This way they just loaded up and took off.

When Tom met her in Chicago, he was surprised at how tired and pale she looked, and she was absolutely exhausted.

He was waiting for her at the hotel when they got in from the airport, and he spun her around in his arms, even with the heavy boot, and then set her down gently on a chair. She was beaming from ear to ear. He had checked in to their suite half an hour before she arrived. It was a decent hotel, and they had a giant suite. But Melanie was sick of room service, signing autographs, and performing night after night no matter how much pain she was in. Tom was shocked at how swollen and painful her ankle still was.

They were playing a concert on Tuesday. And it was only Saturday night. Tom was leaving on Monday morning, to get to work in L.A. He had started the job after she left, and said he loved it. The travel they were promising him sounded terrific. It was with an urban planner, and although most of their jobs were for profit, they had several going that were in developing countries where they offered their services for free to governments, which was right up Tom's alley. She was proud and impressed by his humanitarian side, and she was happy he had found a job he liked. Tom had been worried about finding employment when he came back to Pasadena. He didn't even mind the commute to L.A. After the earthquake in San Francisco, he was happy to be back. And finding this job had been the perfect opportunity for him.

Tom took her out to dinner that night, and she ate an enormous greasy hamburger, with fried onion rings. And after that they went back to the hotel and talked about a lot of things. She told him about all the cities they had been to and various incidents along the way. Sometimes being on the road was like kids going to camp, or young soldiers being shipped out.

There was a constant sense of temporary living, breaking camp, and moving on. It was fun at times, and the atmosphere between them was great, but it was exhausting anyway. To break the monotony of traveling so much, the band and roadies had water balloon fights and threw some out the windows of the hotel, designed to hit pedestrians on the street below. The manager caught on to them eventually, came upstairs, and gave them a sound scolding. They were like children with nothing better to do. The roadies and guys in the band got into a fair amount of mischief when they had time off, mostly going to topless bars and strip joints, hanging out in bars, and getting drunk. Tom enjoyed talking to them and thought they were a lot of fun. But what interested him most was being with Melanie. He was beginning to miss her more and more when they were apart. And Melanie had told Pam conspiratorially that she was falling more and more in love with Tom. He was the nicest boyfriend she'd ever had, and she said she felt really lucky to have him in her life. Pam reminded her that she was one of the hottest stars in the world at the moment, and he was lucky too. Besides, she was a nice person. Pam had known Melanie since she was sixteen, and thought she was one of the kindest people she'd ever met, unlike her mother, who could be really tough. Pam thought Tom and Melanie were a very good match. They were similar in disposition, easygoing and friendly, they were both intelligent, and he didn't appear to be jealous of her stardom or her work, which was incredibly rare. Pam knew that there weren't many people on the planet like them, and thanks to Melanie, she thoroughly enjoyed her work.

Tom and Melanie had a fantastic time in Chicago. They went to movies, museums, and restaurants, went shopping, and spent a lot of time in bed. When she went out, she used the crutches and wore the cumbersome black boot. Tom wanted her to. It was a terrific weekend, and Melanie was grateful that he was able to fly around to meet her as much as he did. He was using all his free air miles. The anticipation of seeing him, and the cities they discovered together made the tour far more tolerable for her. They were headed for the East Coast next, all the way up to Vermont and Maine. They were playing concerts in Providence and Martha's Vineyard. Tom said he would try to come back for Miami and New York.

The weekend whizzed by them, and she hated to see him leave again. The air was hot and muggy when she walked out to the curb with him while he hailed a cab. The boot had helped her, and the break from working, and she was in less pain by the time Tom left. She parked the boot near her bed at night, and she felt like she was taking off a wooden leg. Tom teased her about it, and she threw it at him once. It nearly knocked him down.

“Hey you, go easy. Behave yourself!” he scolded her, and then hid it under the bed. They were like kids sometimes and always had a lot of fun. They each enhanced the other's life, and seemed to fall more and more in love. For Tom and Melanie it was a summer of discovery and joy.

In San Francisco, Seth and Sarah had accepted the first offer on their house. It was a good one. The people were moving to town from New York, and wanted it in a hurry. They paid just over the asking price, and wanted a rapid closing. Sarah hated to see the house go, and felt bereft about it, but she and Seth were both relieved that it had sold. It went into escrow immediately, and Sarah shipped the things they were selling to Christie's. She sent the master bedroom furniture, a few things from the living room, and the children's clothes and some of their furniture to her new flat on Clay Street. They would be sharing a room now, instead of each having their own, so they didn't need as much. All the files and papers in Seth's office went to the Heartbreak Hotel on Broadway. They divided up the kitchen things. She sent a couch and two club chairs to Seth. And the rest went into storage. The art was sent to auction in New York. She was saddened to see how fast their home came apart, not unlike their lives. In a matter of days, the house was empty, and looked ransacked and unloved. Watching it happen reminded her of their marriage coming apart. It was amazing how little it took to undo it. It depressed her as she walked around the house for a last time on their final day. She found Seth standing in his office, looking as depressed as she felt. She had just come down from the children's rooms, to make sure everything was on the truck. Parmani had taken the children to her house for the night, so Sarah could get everything set up on Clay Street.

“I hate to leave,” Sarah said, looking at him. He nodded, and then looked into her eyes with deep regret.

“I'm sorry, Sarah …I never thought this would happen to us.” She noticed that for once he said “to us,” instead of just “to me.”

“Maybe it'll all work out.” She didn't know what else to say, and neither did he. She went and put her arms around him then, to give him comfort. He stood there for a long moment with his arms at his sides, and then he put his arms around her too. “Come and see the kids whenever you want,” she said generously. She hadn't been to see a lawyer for a divorce. There was time for that, and she had to be at the trial with him anyway. Henry Jacobs said her presence would be an unspoken but crucial positive factor in her husband's defense. They had hired two more attorneys to defend him. They and Henry would work as a team. Seth needed all the help he could get. Things were not looking good for him.

“Are you going to be okay?” Seth asked her with a look of deep concern. For the first time in a long time, his narcissism actually included someone else on the screen, other than himself. Sarah thought it was a first, and it meant a lot to her. They had had such a tough time ever since Seth's arrest.

“I'll be all right,” Sarah said to him as they stood in the dining room for the last time.

“Call me if you need me, any hour, any time,” Seth said, looking mournful, and then they both went outside. It was the end of their life together, the disappearance of their home. He had put an end to life as they had known it. And as she looked back at the brick house she loved, Sarah just stood there and cried. She was crying for their marriage and lost dreams, not the house. It nearly ripped Seth's heart out to see how upset she was. “I'll come by and take the kids out tomorrow,” he said hoarsely. Sarah turned away and nodded, slipped into her car, and drove toward Clay. It was the beginning of her new life, and in her rearview mirror, she saw Seth get into his new silver Porsche that wasn't even paid for yet, and drive away. Her heart sank as she watched him. It was as though the man she had loved and married, and had two children with, had just died.

Chapter 16

Sarah's new flat on Clay Street was in a small Victorian house that had recently been renovated and painted. It was a duplex, and was neither elegant nor pretty, but Sarah knew it would look better to her when she unpacked their things. The first room she unpacked was the children's. She wanted them to feel at home the next day when they returned. She put out their favorite possessions and treasures lovingly and slowly, afraid that something might have broken in the boxes, but nothing had. So far, everything looked okay. She spent hours unpacking books, and two hours organizing linens and beds. They had gotten rid of so many things, that their lives suddenly seemed very spare. It was still hard to believe that, thanks to Seth's incredible perfidy, everything in their lives had changed. The articles that had continued to appear in the local and national press had been humiliating beyond belief. But humiliation or not, what she needed most was a job. She had called some contacts, but needed to make an all-out effort in the next few days.

And then, while she was going through some papers for the benefit, she had an idea. It was far below her skill level, but at this point, she was going to be grateful for any job she could get. She called the head of the neonatal unit on Wednesday afternoon, while both her children were taking a nap. She had cut Parmani's hours down as much as she could, and once she found a job, she was planning to increase them again. The sweet Nepalese woman was gentle and understanding. Her heart went out to Sarah and the children, and she wanted to do everything she could to help. By then, she had read all the articles too.

The head of the neonatal ICU gave Sarah the name she wanted, and promised to put in a good word for her. In order to give him time to do that, she waited until the next morning, until she got a message from him that the call had been made. The woman's name was Karen Johnson. She was the head of development at the hospital, in charge of fund-raising on a major scale, and whatever investments the hospital made. It wasn't Wall Street, but Sarah thought it could be an interesting job, if they had a spot in the department for her. When Sarah called her, Karen gave her an appointment for Friday afternoon. She was very warm and welcoming, and thanked Sarah for the enormous contribution she'd made with the benefit for the neonatal unit. They had made well over two million dollars. It was less than she'd hoped, but still a slight improvement over the year before.

Parmani came in on Friday afternoon and took the children to the park while Sarah went to her appointment at the hospital. She was nervous about it. It was the first time in ten years that she had gone to a job interview. The last one she'd had had been on Wall Street, before she went to business school, where she met Seth. She redid her ré sumé, and included the benefits she had organized for the hospital. But she knew it would be hard to get a job, as she hadn't worked since she completed business school. Since then, she had married Seth and taken care of her children. So she was out of the business loop.

Karen Johnson was a tall, spare, gracious woman with a Louisiana accent, who was kind and interested during the interview. Sarah was candid about the reverses she'd had, Seth's indictment, the fact that they were currently separated, and that she needed employment for obvious reasons. But more important, she had the abilities they needed.

She was more than capable of handling their investment portfolio, and then suddenly she panicked, worrying that they might think she might be as dishonest as her husband. Karen saw the look of anxiety and humiliation come over her face, and correctly guessed the reason for it. She was quick to reassure her, and offered her sympathy for the problems they were having.

“It's been very difficult,” Sarah said honestly. “It came as a terrible shock …I had no idea what was going on, until the day after the earthquake.” She didn't want to go into the details of the case with her, but they'd been all over the newspapers anyway. It was no secret that Seth was going to trial for fraud, and was currently out on bail. Everyone in the country knew what he'd done, if they read the papers or listened to the news.

Karen explained to her then that she had an assistant in the department who had recently moved to L.A. There was in fact a job opening in the development department, but she was quick to say that hospitals weren't known for the salaries they paid. She mentioned a figure to Sarah, which sounded wonderful to her. It was modest, but it was something she could count on. And the hours were from nine to three. She could be home when her children woke up from their naps, and still have the afternoons and evenings with them, and weekends of course. At Karen's request, Sarah left three copies of her ré sumé with her. Karen said they would get in touch with her the following week, and thanked Sarah warmly for her interest in the position.

Sarah was excited when she left the building. She liked Karen, and the scope of the job. The hospital meant a lot to her, and the kind of investment portfolio that Karen had described was right up her alley. And she liked the prospect of fund-raising too. All she could do was hope now that she would get the job. Even the location worked well for her. The hospital was within walking distance of her new home. And the hours would give her time to spend with her children. The only drawback was the salary, which wasn't terrific, but it would have to do. And on her way home, Sarah had an idea.

She drove down to the Presidio and looked up Sister Maggie at the field hospital. She told her about the interview she'd just had at the hospital. Maggie was thrilled for her.

“That's fantastic, Sarah!” She admired her courage in the face of everything she was going through. Sarah had just told her that they had sold their house, she and Seth had separated, and she had moved into the flat on Clay Street with her children. It had only been a few days since they last talked. Things were moving fast.

“I just hope I get the job. We can really use the money.” Two months before she would never have had to say those words. They would have been inconceivable to either her or Seth. How quickly everything had changed. “I love that hospital. They saved Molly's life. That's why I do the benefit for them.” Maggie remembered Sarah's speech right before the earthquake, and Melanie's performance.

“How are you and Seth?” Maggie asked her, as they walked into the mess hall for a cup of tea. Things were a little slower at the Presidio these days. A number of the residents had been able to go home, to areas of the city that had electricity and water again.

“Not so good,” Sarah said honestly. “We hardly spoke to each other before we gave up the house. He's living in an apartment on Broadway, and ever since we moved to our new flat, Molly keeps asking me where Daddy is.”

“What do you tell her?” Maggie asked gently, as they sat down with their cups of tea. She liked talking to Sarah. She was a good woman, and Maggie was enjoying her friendship although they didn't know each other very well. But Sarah had bared her soul to her and trusted Maggie completely.

“I tell her the truth, as best I can. That Daddy isn't living with us right now. That seems to work for her. He's coming to take them out this weekend. Molly's going to spend the night with him. Oliver is too little.” She sighed then. “I promised Seth I'd be at the trial with him.”

“When is it?”

“It's set for March.” It was still a long time away, nine months. Long enough for her to have the third baby she had been hoping to start with Seth, and that now they would never have. She couldn't imagine putting their marriage back together. Not now anyway. She felt too betrayed.

“That must be stressful for you both,” Maggie commented, looking sympathetic. She was always so kind. “How are you doing with forgiveness, by the way? I know that's not a small endeavor, particularly in a case like this.”

“That's true,” Sarah said quietly. “To be honest, I don't think I'm doing so well with that. I'm so angry sometimes, and so hurt. How could he do it? We had such a wonderful life. I love him, but I just don't understand how he could do something like that, and be so dishonest. He has no integrity whatsoever.”

“Something must have gone very wrong. It was certainly a shocking error of judgment. And it sounds like he may pay a terrible price for it. Maybe that's punishment enough. And losing you and the children must be the final blow.” Sarah nodded. The problem for her was that she was paying the price too. She had lost her husband, and her children their father. But worst of all, she had lost all respect for him, and doubted she could ever trust him again. Seth knew it, and had barely dared to look her in the eye before he left. The look on her face had said it all.

“I don't mean to be hard on him. It's just such a terrible thing. He blew our whole life apart.” Maggie nodded, thinking about it. It was definitely hard to understand. Greed probably. And the need to be even more than he was. It was like some terrible character flaw in him that had surfaced, and turned into a tidal wave that had taken everyone with it. But Sarah looked better than Maggie had hoped. She almost said something to her then about her own problems, but she wouldn't even have known where to start. The big blue eyes looked into Sarah's, and the younger woman saw something deeply worried there. “Are you okay?” Sarah asked her, and then Maggie nodded.

“More or less. I have my challenges too sometimes.” She smiled. “Even nuns have nutty thoughts and do crazy things. I forget sometimes that we have the same human frailties as everyone else. Just when I think I have things all figured out, and think I have a direct channel to God, He turns the sound off, and I can't figure out what I'm doing or where I am. It reminds me of my own failings and humanity and keeps me humble,” she said cryptically, and then laughed. “I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm talking about.” She had been so confused lately, so tormented, but she didn't want to burden Sarah with her problems. She had enough of her own. And there was nothing to do about what was troubling Maggie. She knew it. She just had to put it out of her mind. She had promised God and herself that she would.

They walked back to the field hospital then. Sarah said goodbye to Maggie, and promised to come back and see her soon.

“Let me know if you get the job!” she called out as Sarah walked away. Sarah wondered if she'd get it. She was qualified certainly, but her luck hadn't been running strong of late. Maybe this time it would. She needed the job. No one had responded to the ré sumé's she had sent out in case the hospital job didn't pan out, although she hoped it would.

Sarah drove back to the house on Clay Street then, and was happy to see that Parmani and the children were home from the park, as she walked into the flat. Molly squealed in delight and ran to her, and Oliver crawled across the floor with a big grin for his mom. She tossed him up in the air, and sat down on the couch with him on her lap, as Molly cuddled up next to her, and Sarah realized again that whatever else had happened, the greatest blessing in her life was them. And as she started to get dinner ready, she thought about how nice it had been to see Maggie that afternoon. She wondered what the problem was that she'd been referring to. Whatever it was, she hoped it was nothing major. She was such a kind woman, and such a remarkable soul that Sarah couldn't imagine a problem she couldn't solve. She certainly helped Sarah with hers. Sometimes all it took was a willing ear and a good heart, although Sister Maggie offered far more than that. She tossed in wisdom, love, and humor too.

Melanie's ankle was still bothering her when she came back to L.A. at the beginning of September. It had been hurting for the whole two months she'd been on tour. She had gone to see a doctor in New Orleans, and another one with Tom when he visited her in New York. Both orthopedists had told her it would just take time. At her age, most things were easy to repair, but hopping on and off stages and running around the country for two months doing oneor two-night stands was hard even on her. She finally went to see her own doctor when she got back to L.A., and he said it wasn't healing as well as it should have. He told her she was working too hard. That was nothing new. She had described the tour to him, and what she did when she was on it. He had been horrified. She was still wearing the big black boot, because the ankle hadn't healed, and the boot gave her some relief and protection from further damage. The only time her ankle didn't hurt was when she wore it. Onstage, even in normal street shoes now, even flats, the ankle always killed her.

Tom was worried when she called him on her way home. “What did he say?”

“That I need a vacation, or maybe I should retire,” Melanie teased. She loved how attentive Tom was. Jake had been such a jerk. Tom wanted to know everything about her, even what her doctor had said when he ran another X-ray. “Actually,” she answered him, he says there's still a hairline crack, and if I don't take it easy, I could wind up with surgery and pins in my foot. I think I'll pick ‘take it easy.’ I don't have a lot to do right now.” Tom laughed.

“Since when do you not have a lot to do?” She had taken care of everything on her desk when she got home the day before. Melanie was always busy. And Tom worried about her.

Her mother asked her the same questions about the ankle when she got home. Melanie shared with her that the doctor said it wasn't a big deal. Unless she went on tour again, then it might be.

“It's starting to look like a big deal,” her mother said casually. “Every time I look at you, the foot is swollen. Did you tell the doctor that? You can't even wear high heels.”

Melanie looked sheepish. “I forgot.”

“So much for being grown up at twenty,” Janet added. Melanie didn't have to be completely grown up. In some ways, she was just a kid. It was part of her charm. And she had a flock of people around her to take care of her. In other ways, Melanie was far older and had matured from years of hard work and discipline in her career. She was both woman of the world, and enchanting child. Her mother would have preferred to convince her she was still a baby. It gave her all the power, but in spite of Janet's efforts, Melanie was growing up, and becoming a woman in her own right.

Melanie tried to take care of the ankle. She went to physical therapy, did the exercises they gave her, and soaked it at night. It was better, but she was afraid to wear platform shoes or high heels, and when she stood for a long time in rehearsal, it hurt. It was like a constant reminder now of the price she paid for the work she did, and that it wasn't as easy as it looked. The money, fame, and razzle-dazzle of her business didn't come easily. She had performed with a nasty injury all summer, getting on stage with it at night, traveling constantly, and having to make it look as though everything was fabulous, or at least fine, even when it wasn't. She thought about it all one night as she lay awake in bed, with her ankle hurting, and in the morning she made a call. She'd had the name and number in her wallet since she left the Presidio in May. She made an appointment for the following afternoon, went to meet him by herself, and told no one.

The man she went to see was a small rotund man with a bald head and the kindest eyes she'd ever seen, except Maggie's. They talked for a long, long time. And when Melanie drove back to the house in Hollywood, she was crying. They were tears of love, joy, and relief. She needed to find some answers now, and all of his suggestions had been good. And the questions he had asked her about her life had plunged her into ever deeper thought. She had made only one decision that day. She didn't know if she could do it, but she had promised him and herself she would try.

“Something wrong, Mel?” Tom asked her when he came to pick her up for dinner that night. They went to a sushi restaurant that they both loved. It was quiet, pretty, and the food was good. It had a serene Japanese look to it, and as Melanie looked across the table at him, she smiled.

“No, something right, I think.” She told him about the meeting she'd had that day with Father Callaghan. She said Maggie had given her his name when she said she wanted to do volunteer work. He ran two orphanages in L.A., and a mission in Mexico, and was only in L.A. part of the time. She'd been lucky to call him when she did. He was leaving the next day.

She told Tom about the work he did, mostly with abandoned children, young girls he rescued from brothels, boys who'd been selling drugs since they were seven or eight. He housed them, fed them, loved them, and turned their lives around. There was a shelter for battered women, and he was helping to build a hospital for people with AIDS. He worked with similar people in Los Angeles, but his real love was what he did in Mexico. He had been doing it for more than thirty years. Melanie had asked him what she could do to help him. She had wanted to volunteer in L.A., and thought he might ask her to write a check to help with the missions in Mexico too. Instead, he smiled at her, and invited her to come and visit there, and told her he thought it might do her a lot of good. It might give her answers she was seeking and had talked to him about, in her own life. She had everything in the world to be thankful for, she told him, success, fame, money, good friends, adoring fans, a mother who did everything for her, whether she wanted her to or not, and a boyfriend who was wonderful to her, a really good person whom she loved.

“So why am I so unhappy?” she had asked the priest, with tears running down her cheeks in rivers. “I hate what I do sometimes. I feel like everyone owns me, except me, and I have to do everything they want, for them … and this stupid ankle has been killing me for three months. I worked on it all summer, and now I can't get it better. My mom is mad at me because I can't wear heels on stage and she says it looks like shit.” It was all jumbled in her head as it came tumbling out like building blocks from a child's dump truck. Her thoughts were scattered all over the place. She could identify them, almost, but she couldn't make sense out of them, or make anything useful out of her concerns. He handed her a couple of tissues, and she blew her nose.

“What do you want, Melanie?” Father Callaghan asked her gently. “Never mind what everyone else wants. Your mom, your agent, your boyfriend. What does Melanie want?”

Before she could stop them, the words blurted out, “I want to be a nurse when I grow up.”

“I wanted to be a fireman, and I wound up being a priest instead. Sometimes we take other paths than the ones we expected to take.” He told her he had studied to be an architect, before going into the priesthood, which he found useful in the buildings they were putting up in the Mexican villages where he now worked. He didn't tell her he had a Ph.D. in clinical psychology that was even more useful to him, even in his dealings with her. He was a Franciscan, which worked well in his chosen line of work, but he had toyed with the idea of being a Jesuit. He loved the intellectual side of his Jesuit brothers, and enjoyed heated debates with them whenever the opportunity arose. “You have a wonderful career, Melanie. You've been blessed. You have a tremendous talent, and I get the feeling you enjoy your work, some of the time anyway, when you're not performing on a broken ankle, and no one is exploiting you.” In her own way, she was no different than the girls he rescued from brothels in Mexico. Too many people had been using her. They just paid her better for it, and the costumes were more expensive. But he could sense that everyone, including her mother, was pumping her to do their bidding, until the well ran dry. It had started to run dry for Melanie on her last concert tour, and all she wanted now was to run away and hide. She wanted to help others, and get in touch with what she'd experienced in the Presidio after the earthquake. It had been a time of epiphany and transformation for her, and then she had to go back to real life.

“What if you could do both? Do the work you love to do, when it's not overwhelming, maybe even on your terms. Maybe you need to take some of that control away from others. You can take some time to think about that. And take some time out of your life to help others, people who really need you, like the earthquake survivors you helped with Sister Maggie. Maybe the balance in your life would make more sense then. You have a lot to give people, Melanie. And you'd be amazed at what they'll give you back.” Right now, no one was giving her anything, except Tom. She was being bled dry.

“You mean like work with you here in L.A., or in your mission in Mexico?” She couldn't imagine being able to find the time. Her mother always had plans for her, interviews, rehearsals, recording sessions, concerts, benefits, special appearances. Her life and time were never her own.

“Possibly. If that's what you want. Don't do it to please me. You make a lot of people happy as it is, with your music. I want you to think about what would make you happy. It's your turn, Melanie. All you have to do is get in line, step up to the booth, and get your ticket. It's waiting for you. No one can take that away from you. You don't have to get on the rides everyone else wants you on. Get your ticket, pick your ride, and have a little fun here for a change. Life is a lot more fun than you're allowing it to be. And no one should take that ticket away from you. It's not their turn, Melanie. It's yours.” He was smiling at her, and as she listened to him, she knew.

“I want to go to Mexico with you,” she said in a whisper. She knew she had no major engagements for the next three weeks. She had a few interviews lined up, a photo shoot for a fashion magazine. She was recording in September and October, and was scheduled to do a benefit sometime after that. But none of them were things that couldn't be changed or canceled. All of a sudden, she knew she had to get away, and it might do her ankle good to stop working for a while, instead of trying to hobble around in high heels to make her mother happy. Suddenly, it was all too much. And he was offering her a way out. She wanted to take that right he was talking about. She had never done what she wanted in her whole life. She did what her mother told her, and what everyone expected her to do. She had always been the perfect little girl, and now she was sick of it. She was twenty years old and wanted to do something that meant a lot to her for a change. She had a feeling this was it. “Could I stay at one of the missions for a while?” Melanie asked him, and he nodded.

“You can live in our home for teenage girls. Most of them have been prostitutes and drug addicts. You wouldn't know it to look at them, they look like angels now. But your being there might do them a world of good. And you too.”

“How do I get hold of you when you're down there?” she asked, feeling breathless. Her mother was going to kill her if she did this. Although who knew, she'd probably try to turn it into a golden press opportunity. She always did.

“My cell phone works, and I'll give you some numbers,” he said, jotting them down. “If it doesn't work for you to come down now, it might be easier for you in a few months, like next spring. This is pretty short notice in a life like yours. I'll be there till after Christmas, so come whenever you want, and stay as long as you feel like it. Whenever you show up, Melanie, we'll have a bed for you.”

“I'm coming,” she said with a look of determination, realizing that things had to change. She couldn't keep her mother happy forever. She needed to make her own decisions too. She was tired of living her mom's dreams, or being her dream. She needed her own. And this was a good place to start.

She was deeply pensive when she left the meeting. Father Callaghan hugged her, and then made the sign of the cross on her forehead with his thumb. “Take care of yourself, Melanie. I hope we see you down there. If not, I'll catch up with you when I get back. Stay in touch.”

“I will,” she promised, and she thought about it all the way home. She knew what she wanted to do, she just didn't know how to pull it off, even for a few days. But she wanted to go for longer than that. Maybe even a few months.

She told Tom all about it over their sushi dinner. He looked impressed and stunned, and then just as quickly, worried.

“You're not going to join a convent, are you?” She saw panic in his eyes and, as she shook her head and laughed, relief.

“No, I'm not. I'm not a good enough person to do that. Besides, I'd miss you too much.” She reached out across the table and took his hand in hers. “I'd just like to do this for a while, help some people, clear my head, get out from under the pressure of all my obligations. I don't know if they'd let me, and my mom will have a fit. I just feel like I need to get away, and figure out what's important to me, other than my work and you. Father Callaghan says I don't need to give up my career to help other people, he says I give people hope and joy with my music. But I just want to do something more real for a while, like in the Presidio.”

“I think it's a great idea,” Tom seconded it. Ever since she'd gotten back from her tour, Melanie looked drained, and he knew her ankle was still hurting her a lot. It was no wonder after running around on it for three months, and dancing around on stage, taking pills at night, and cortisone shots like football players trying to fool their bodies into thinking they weren't injured and could play. Tom had learned a lot about the pressures she lived with, and the heavy dues she paid for her fame. It looked like too much to him, and he thought her going to Mexico for a while sounded like just what she needed, for her soul as well as her body. What her mother would say about it was another thing. He was coming to know Janet well, and how she controlled everything in Melanie's life. She tolerated him now, and even liked him at times, but Janet always kept her daughter on a very, very short leash. She wanted Melanie to be a puppet, while she pulled all the strings. Anything that interfered with that had to be disposed of immediately. Tom was careful not to cross her, or to challenge her overwhelming influence on Melanie's life. He didn't think it could last forever. But he also knew that if Melanie challenged her mother's control now, Janet would go insane. She wanted to give up that power to no one, least of all to Melanie herself. And Melanie knew it too.

“I think I'll set it up first, and talk to her about it after I do. So she can't stop me. I have to see if my agent can get me out of some stuff, and my manager, without letting her know. She wants me to do everything, as long as it gets national press, major publicity, and I'm on the cover of whatever it is. She means well, she just doesn't understand that sometimes it's too much. I can't complain, she really made my career happen. She's had all this in her head since I was a little kid. I just don't want all of it as much as she does. I want to pick and choose, not get buried by all the shit she makes me do. And there's a lot of it!” She grinned at Tom. He knew Melanie was telling the truth. He had seen it at close range since May. Just keeping track of what she did exhausted him. And he had as much energy as she did. But he hadn't broken his ankle performing in Vegas. That had taken a toll too. It all had. Melanie had been looking exhausted, and now suddenly she had come alive again after her meeting with the priest.

“Would you come down and visit me in Mexico?” she asked Tom hopefully, and he smiled as he nodded.

“Of course I will. I'm so proud of you, Mellie. I think you'd love it, if you can pull it off.” They both knew her mother would be a fearsome opponent, and deeply threatened by any sign of independence from her daughter. This was going to be tough on Melanie. It was going to be the first time she had made a major decision on her own. And this was a big one, particularly since it had nothing to do with her career. That would frighten Janet even more. She didn't want Melanie distracted from her goals or, more important, her mother's goals. Melanie was not supposed to have her own dreams, only her mother's. That was changing. And change was going to scare her mother. Big time.

They talked about it on the way home. Janet was out when they got there, and they discreetly went to Melanie's bedroom and locked the door. They made love, cuddled up in bed afterward, and watched movies on TV. Her mother didn't mind his spending the night occasionally, although she didn't want anyone moving in, for herself or her daughter. As long as whatever guy in question didn't get too cocky, or have too much influence over Melanie, Janet was willing to tolerate his existence. Tom was smart enough to be discreet, and never face off with her.

In the end, he decided to go home around two in the morning, so he could get to work early the next day. Melanie was asleep when he left, but before she drifted off, he told her he'd be going. She smiled sleepily and kissed him. She woke up early the next day, and started making calls to further advance her project. She swore her agent and manager to secrecy, and both said they'd see what they could do to get her out of the commitments she had, most or all of them made by her mother. They both warned her that her mother would hear about it fairly soon, one way or the other. Melanie said she was going to talk to her about it, but only after she canceled her commitments, so there was nothing Janet could do. Her manager told her that her stay in Mexico would be a great press opportunity for her, if she was willing to exploit the trip a little.

“No!” Melanie said firmly. “That's the whole point. I need to get away from all that bullshit. I need some time to figure out who I am and what I want to do.”

“Oh Jesus, not one of those trips. You're not thinking about retiring, are you?” her agent asked. Janet would kill them all if that happened. She was a decent woman at heart, she just wanted her daughter's career to be the biggest thing since the birth of Jesus. She loved Melanie, but she was living vicariously through her. Her agent had thought it was a good thing that Melanie was trying to cut the umbilical cord a little. It had to happen sooner or later, and it was healthy for her. He had seen it coming. The problem was that Janet didn't, and she was guarding that umbilical cord with her life. No one was going to touch it. And only Melanie had that right. “How long are you thinking?”

“Maybe till Christmas. I know we have the concert in Madison Square Garden on New Year's Eve. I don't want to cancel that.”

“That's a good thing,” he said, sounding relieved. “I probably would have had to slit my wrists on that one. Till then, it's all pretty minor stuff. I'll get on it,” he promised.

Two days later, both her agent and her manager had done what they had said they'd do. Melanie was free and clear until two weeks after Thanksgiving. Some of it had been rescheduled, and other things just had to be canceled, to be addressed at some distant, later date, if ever. None of it was a big deal. This had been the perfect time to do it. All she'd be missing were the press opportunities that came up at parties and benefits she'd be invited to. And there was no way to predict those. Janet liked her to do them all. And Melanie always did. Until now.

As expected, Janet wandered into Melanie's room two days after all of her engagements had been canceled. No one had said anything to her yet, and Melanie had told Tom she was going to tell her mother that night. She was planning to leave the following Monday and had already made her reservations. She wanted to spend the weekend with Tom before she left. He was a hundred percent behind her. And he was planning to come down to visit her when he could. He was excited about what she was doing and wanted to volunteer some time too. He had a strong urge to help his fellow man, as she did, and wanted to balance a serious career with the humanitarian traditions that he firmly believed in.

Three months wasn't a long time to be apart, but he said he would miss her. What they had was solid and good, and could withstand the distraction of their respective obligations. Their relationship was going full speed ahead, and was turning into a great thing for both of them. They were kind, compassionate, intelligent, and supportive. They couldn't believe their good luck in having found each other. In many ways, they were so much alike and inspired each other in constructive ways. Together, their world had grown. Tom was even thinking of taking a week or two off himself, and volunteering at one of the Mexican missions with her, if they gave him the time off work. He loved working with kids, and in high school had been a Big Brother to a boy in Watts, and another in East L.A., and was still in touch with both. This was just his kind of thing. As a kid, he had dreamed of joining the Peace Corps, and had later chosen a career path instead. But now he envied what she'd be doing in Mexico, and wished he could spend three months there himself.

“That's weird,” Janet muttered to her, glancing at a stack of papers in her hand. “I just got a fax that says your interview with Teen Vogue was canceled. How did they manage to screw that up?” She shook her head and glanced at her daughter, looking annoyed. “And I got an e-mail this morning from the colon cancer benefit, saying they hope you can do it for them next year. That was in two weeks. It sounds like they dumped you for someone else. They said Sharon Osbourne is going to do it. Maybe they thought you were too young. Anyway, you'd better get out there and shake your booty, girl. You know what all that means? It means they're starting to forget you, and you were only on the road for just over two months. Time to show your face and get some press.” She smiled at Melanie, lying on her bed and watching TV. Melanie had been thinking about what she had to pack for her trip to Mexico. Not much. And she had half a dozen books on her bed, about Mexico, which miraculously escaped her mother's notice. She glanced up at her mother, and wondered if this was the time to tell her. It wasn't going to be easy, she knew, whenever she did. The proverbial shit was going to hit the fan.

“Uh … actually, Mom,” Melanie spoke up just as her mother was about to leave the room, “I canceled those two things … and some others … I'm kind of tired …I thought I'd go away for a few weeks.” She had been debating about telling her mother up front how long she was going to be away, or letting her know as time went on. She had not yet figured that out. But she had to tell her something, since she was about to leave. Janet stopped in her tracks and turned to frown as Melanie lay on her pink satin bed.

“What's that all about, Mel? What do you mean, you're ‘going away for a few weeks'?” She looked at her as though Melanie had said she had just grown horns or wings.

“Well, you know … my ankle … it's really been bothering me …I just thought … you know … it might be good to get away.”

“You canceled commitments without asking me?” Melanie could see that the fan was speeding up. The shit was near.

“I was going to talk to you about it, Mom, but I didn't want to bother you. The doctor said I should stay off my feet.”

“Is this Tom's idea?” Her mother was now glaring at her, trying to figure out where the evil influence had come from that had led Melanie to cancel two engagements without consulting her first. She smelled heavy interference.

“No, Mom, it isn't. It's just something I want to do. I'm tired after the tour. I didn't want to do that benefit, and I can do Teen Vogue anytime I want. They ask us all the time.”

“That's not the point, Melanie,” her mother said as she approached the bed with fury in her eyes. “You don't cancel commitments. You talk to me, and I do. And you can't just disappear off the face of the earth because you're tired. You have to keep your face out there.”

“My face is on a million CD covers, Mom. No one's going to forget me if I'm gone for a few weeks, or don't do a colon cancer benefit. I just need some time to myself.”

“What the hell is that all about? This has to be Tom's doing. I see that kid lurking around. He probably wants you all to himself. He's jealous of you. He doesn't understand, and neither do you, what it takes to make a major career and keep you right up there on top. You can't lie around, fucking around and watching TV, or with your nose in a bunch of books. You need to be out there, Mel. And I don't know where you think you're going for a few weeks, but you can cancel that plan right now. When I think you need to get away, I'll tell you. You're fine. Now get off your dead ass and stop feeling sorry for yourself with that ankle. It's just a small crack, for chrissake. And that was almost four months ago. Get up and get moving, Mel. I'll call Teen Vogue and set the interview up again. I'll leave the benefit alone, because I don't want to piss off Sharon. But don't you ever cancel any of your commitments again! Do you hear me?” She was trembling with rage, and Melanie with terror. She felt sick listening to her mother. It was all there. Janet thought she owned her. Whatever her intentions, good or bad, Melanie knew that her mother's constant control would ruin her life, if she continued to allow it.

“I hear you, Mom,” she said quietly, “and I'm sorry you feel that way. But this is something I need to do for myself.” She bit the bullet then and jumped into the deep end. “I'm going to Mexico till after Thanksgiving. I'm leaving Monday.” She almost winced as she said it, but managed not to. This was the worst it had ever been, although they'd had some major run-ins, whenever Melanie tried to make her own decisions or exercise some independence.

“You're WHAT? Are you insane? You have a million bookings from now till then. You're not going anywhere, Melanie, unless I tell you to. Don't you dare tell me what you're going to do. Let's not forget who put you on top here.” Her voice had, with her mother's help, but it was a cruel thing to say, and Melanie felt it like a blow. This was the first time she had stood up to her mother in just this way. And it was anything but pretty. Melanie wanted to crawl under her covers and cry, but she didn't. She held her ground. She knew she had to. And what she was doing wasn't wrong. She refused to let her mother make her feel guilty for wanting some time off.

“I canceled the other bookings, Mom,” she said honestly.

“Who did that?”

“I did.” She didn't want to get her agent and manager in trouble, so she took the blame. She had told them to do it, which was what mattered. “I need this time away, Mom. I'm sorry if it upsets you, but it's important to me.”

“Who's going with you?” She was still looking for the culprit, the person who had stolen her power from her. But in fact, only time had. Melanie had finally grown up and wanted at least some control of her own life. It had been a long time coming. And maybe Tom's love had helped her.

“No one. I'm going alone, Mom. I'm going to work in a Catholic mission that takes care of children. It's something I want to do. I promise I'll come back and work my ass off when I get home. Just let me do this without going crazy.”

“I'm not going crazy. You are,” Janet shouted at her. Melanie hadn't raised her voice once, out of respect for her mother. “We can turn it into a press opportunity if you want to do it for a few days,” she said hopefully, “but you can't go running off to Mexico for three months. For chrissake, Melanie, what were you thinking?” And then she thought of something else. “Is that little nun in San Francisco behind this? She looked like a sneaky little piece of work to me. Watch out for that type, Melanie. She'll have you joining a convent next. And you can tell her that if that's what she has in mind, it'll be over my dead body!” Melanie smiled at the mention of Maggie, however rude.

“No, I went to see a priest here.” She didn't tell her the connection was through Maggie. “He runs this great mission in Mexico. I just want to go there, have some peace, and then I can come back and work as hard as you want. I promise.”

“You make it sound like I'm abusing you,” her mother said, bursting into tears as she sat down on her daughter's bed and Melanie put her arms around her.

“I love you, Mom. I appreciate everything you've done for my career. I just want something more than that in my life now.”

“It's the earthquake,” Janet said, shaking as she sobbed. “You have post-traumatic stress. God, that would make such a good story in People, wouldn't it?” Melanie laughed as she looked at her. Her mother was a caricature of herself. Her heart was in the right place, but all she thought about was publicity for Melanie, and how to make her career even bigger than it was, which would have been hard to do. She had already done everything she had set out to accomplish, but her mother still couldn't let go, and have her own life. That was the essence of the problem. She wanted to live Melanie's life, not her own.

“You should go away somewhere too, Mom. A spa or something. Or London with some of your friends, or Paris. You can't think about me all the time. It's not healthy. For either of us.”

“I love you,” Janet wailed. “You don't know what I gave up for you…I could have had a career, I gave it to you … all I've ever done is what I thought was best for you.” It was a two-hour speech, which Melanie had heard too often and tried to head off at the pass this time.

“I know, Mom. I love you too. Just let me do this. I'll be good after that, I promise. But you have to let me figure things out for myself, and make my own decisions. I'm not a kid anymore. I'm twenty.”

“You're a baby,” Janet said angrily, mortally threatened.

“I'm a grown-up,” Melanie said firmly.

Janet spent the next few days alternately crying, complaining, and accusing. She bounced between grief and rage. She could feel the early signs of power slipping from her, and she was totally panicked. She even tried to get Tom to talk Melanie out of her plan, and he diplomatically said he thought it might do her good and thought it was noble of her, which only enraged Janet further. It was a nightmarish few days around their house, and Melanie could hardly wait to leave on Monday. After spending the weekend with him at her own house, she spent the last night at Tom's apartment, just to get away from her mother, and only went back to her own home at three A.M., to sleep before she left for the airport the following morning at ten. Tom had taken the morning off to drive her. She didn't want to leave in a white stretch limousine and attract attention, which her mother would have insisted on, if she'd had her way. She probably would have called the press and leaked the story, and might still anyway.

The scene with her mother as she left was out of a bad soap opera, with her mother clutching her and crying, saying she would probably be dead when Melanie got back, since she had been having chest pains ever since Melanie told her she was leaving. Melanie told her she'd be fine, promised to call her often, left all the pertinent phone numbers, and ran out the door to Tom's car, with a backpack and a duffel bag. It was all she was taking with her. She looked like she was escaping from prison as she slid into the car beside him.

“Go!” she shouted at him. “Go! Go! Go! Before she runs out and throws herself on the hood of the car.” He took off, and they were both laughing as they reached the first stoplight. It felt like a getaway car to both of them, and it was. Melanie almost felt high at the prospect of leaving and what she'd be doing when she got to Mexico.

Tom kissed her when he left her at the airport, and she promised to call him when she arrived. He was planning to come down in two or three weeks. But in the meantime, Melanie knew she would have lots of new adventures. Her three-month sabbatical in Mexico was just what the doctor ordered.

She was sitting on the plane, just before the doors closed, when she decided to call her mother. She was getting to do what she wanted, and she knew it was hard for Janet. Melanie knew it felt like a huge loss to her. Losing her control over Melanie to any degree was frightening for her, and Melanie felt sorry for her.

Janet answered at the house, and sounded depressed. She brightened noticeably when she heard her daughter's voice.

“Did you change your mind?” she asked, sounding hopeful, and Melanie smiled.

“No. I'm on the plane. I just wanted to give you a kiss. I'll call you from Mexico, when I can.” They made the announcement then to turn off all cell phones, and she told her mother she had to get off. Her mother sounded tearful for a moment.

“I still don't understand why you're doing this.” It felt like punishment to her, and rejection. It was much more than that to Melanie. It was a chance to do some good in the world.

“I just need to, Mom. I'll be back soon. Take care. I love you, Mom,” Melanie said as a flight attendant reminded her to turn off her phone. “I gotta go.”

“I love you, Mel,” her mother said hastily, as with a last kiss, Melanie turned off her phone. She was glad she had called. This trip had nothing to do with hurting her mother. It was something she needed to do for herself. She needed to discover who she was, and if she could exist on her own.

Chapter 17

Maggie heard from Melanie after she got to Mexico. She loved it and said the place was beautiful, the children were wonderful, and Father Callaghan was fantastic. She said she had never been happier in her life and wanted to thank Maggie for the suggestion that she call him.

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.”

“I promise,” her mother said, looking slightly sheepish. It was going to be a major adjustment, for both of them. Melanie had to take on the responsibility of her own life now. And her mother had to hand it over. No small feat for either of them, but they were trying. The time away from each other had helped to make the transition.

Tom spent Christmas Day with them, and gave Melanie a promise ring. It was a narrow band of diamonds that his sister had helped pick out for her. Melanie loved it, and he slipped it on her right hand.

“I love you, Mel,” he said softly, as Janet came out in a red-andgreen-sequined Christmas apron, with a tray of eggnog. And several friends had dropped by. She was in good spirits, and seemed busier than ever. Since she got back, Melanie had spent the week rehearsing for her concert at Madison Square Garden on New Year's Eve. It was a hell of a reentry, and hardly a gentle beginning. Tom was coming to New York with her two days before the concert. And her ankle was completely healed. She'd been wearing sandals for three months.

“I love you too,” she whispered to Tom. He was wearing the Cartier watch she had given him. He loved it. But most of all he loved her. It had been an amazing year for them both, from the San Francisco earthquake to Christmas.

Sarah dropped the children off with Seth on Christmas Day. He had offered to come by, but she didn't want him to. It made her uncomfortable when he came to her house. She still hadn't decided what to do. She had talked to Maggie about it several times. And Maggie had reminded her that forgiveness was a state of grace, but no matter what she did, Sarah couldn't seem to reach it. She still believed in “for better or worse,” but she no longer knew what she felt for him. She couldn't process what had happened. She was numb.

She had celebrated Christmas with the children the night before, on Christmas Eve, and that morning they had dug through their stockings, and opened the gifts from Santa Claus. Oliver just loved ripping off the wrappings, and Molly loved everything Santa had given her. They had checked, and Santa had drunk most of the milk and eaten all the cookies. Rudolph had gnawed on all the carrots, and two were missing.

It pained Sarah to share their familiar traditions with the children without Seth, but he said he understood. He was seeing a psychiatrist and taking medication for anxiety attacks he was having. And Sarah felt terrible about that too. She felt as though she should have been there with him, at his side, and bringing him comfort. But he was a stranger to her now, even if one she had loved and still did. It was an odd and painful feeling.

He smiled when he saw her standing outside his door with the children and asked her to come in, but she said she couldn't. She said she was meeting friends, and she was actually having tea at the St. Francis with Maggie. She had invited her there, as it wasn't far from where Maggie lived, although it was a whole universe away in spirit.

“How are you doing?” Seth asked her, as Oliver toddled in. He was walking now. And Molly dashed in to see what was under his tree. He had gotten her a pink tricycle, a doll as big as she was, and a stack of other presents. His finances were in the same shape as Sarah's, but Seth had always spent more money than she did. She was trying to be careful now, with her salary, and the money he gave her for the kids. Her parents were helping her too and had invited her to Bermuda for the holidays, but she didn't want to go. She had wanted to stay here, and keep the children near him. For all they knew, it might be his last Christmas out of prison for a long time, and she didn't want to deprive him of his children, or them of him.

“I'm okay,” she answered Seth, and smiled in the Christmas spirit, but there was so much wreckage between them. It showed in his eyes and hers too, so much disappointment and sorrow, and the force of his betrayal, which had hit her like a bomb. She still couldn't understand what had happened, or why. She realized now that once again there was a piece of him she just never knew, one that had more in common with people like Sully, and nothing in common with her. That was the scary part. There had always been a stranger living in the house with her. It was too late to meet him now, and she didn't want to. That stranger had destroyed her life. But she was rebuilding it quietly on her own. Two men had asked her out recently, and she had turned both down. As far as Sarah was concerned, she was still married, until they decided otherwise, which they hadn't yet. She was putting that decision off until after the trial, unless it came to her in a blinding flash before that. She was still wearing her wedding band, and Seth was too. For now, at least, they were still husband and wife, even if living apart.

He handed her a Christmas present before she left, and she had one for him too. She had bought him a cashmere jacket and some sweaters, and he got her a beautiful little mink jacket. It was exactly what she liked, and it was gorgeous in a lush dark brown. She put it on when she opened it, and kissed him.

“Thank you, Seth. You shouldn't.”

“Yes, I should,” he said sadly. “You deserve a lot more than that.” In the old days, he would have given her some huge piece of jewelry from Tiffany or Cartier, but this was not the year for that, and it never would be again. All her jewelry was gone. It had finally been sold at auction the month before, and the money frozen with the rest of their assets, as his legal bills mounted sky high. He felt terrible about it.

She left him with their children then. They were spending the night with him. He had bought a portable crib for Ollie, and Molly was going to sleep in his bed with him, since he only had one bedroom in the small apartment.

Sarah kissed him when she left, and had a heavy heart as she drove away. The burdens they shared now were almost too much to bear. But they had no other choice.

Everett went to an AA meeting on Christmas morning. He had volunteered to be the guest speaker, and share his story. It was a big meeting he liked to go to. There were a lot of young people, some rough-looking types, a handful of affluent Hollywood folk, and even a few homeless people who wandered in. He loved the mix, because it was so real. Some of the meetings he'd been to in Hollywood and Beverly Hills were a little too manicured and polished for him. He preferred his meetings rougher and more down to earth. This one always was.

He shared during the regular part of the meeting too. He said his name and that he was an alcoholic, and fifty people in the room said “Hi, Everett!” at once. Even after nearly two years, it gave him a warm feeling and made him feel at home. His shares were never practiced or rehearsed. He just said whatever came to mind, or was bothering him at the time. He mentioned Maggie this time, that he loved her and she was a nun. He said she was in love with him too, was remaining faithful to her vows, and had asked him not to call her again, so he hadn't. He had felt the loss sorely for the past three months, but respected her wishes. And then, as he left the meeting and got into his car to go home, he thought about what he'd said. That he loved her as he had never loved any other woman before, nun or not. That was worth something, and he suddenly wondered if he had done the right thing, or if he should have fought for her. It had never occurred to him before. He was on the way home, when he made a sharp turn and headed for the airport. Traffic was light on Christmas Day. It was eleven o'clock in the morning, and he knew he could catch a one o'clock flight to San Francisco, and be in the city by three. Nothing could have stopped him then.

He paid for his ticket, got on the flight, and sat staring out the window at the clouds and the countryside and highways below. He had no one else to spend Christmas with, and if she refused to see him, he hadn't lost much. Just some time, and a round-trip ticket from L.A. It was worth a shot. He had missed her unbearably in the last three months, her wise views, her thoughtful comments, her delicate ventures into advice, the sound of her voice, and the brilliant blue of her eyes. He could hardly wait to see her now. She was the best Christmas gift of all, and the only one he had. He had nothing for her either, except his love.

The flight landed ten minutes early, just before two o'clock, and the cab he hailed got him into the city at twenty to three. He went to her address in the Tenderloin, feeling like a schoolboy visiting his girlfriend, and started to worry about what would happen if she wouldn't let him in. She had an intercom and might tell him to go away, but he had to try anyway. He couldn't just let her slip out of his life. Love was too rare and important to throw away. And he had never before loved anyone like her. He thought she was a saint. Others said it about her too.

He paid the cabdriver when they got to her building, and he walked nervously to her front steps. They were badly battered and chipped. And two drunks were sitting on the stoop, sharing a bottle. Half a dozen hookers were wandering up and down the street, looking for “dates.” It was business as usual here, Christmas Day or not.

He rang her bell, and no one answered. He thought of calling her cell phone, but didn't want to warn her. He sat down on the top step in his jeans and heavy sweater. It was chilly, but the sun was out and it was a pretty day. However long it took, he was going to wait. He knew she'd turn up eventually. She was probably serving Christmas lunch or dinner to the poor in a dining room somewhere.

The two drunks on the step below him were still passing the bottle to each other, and then one of them looked up and offered it to him. It was bourbon, the cheapest brand they could buy, in the smallest size. They were filthy dirty, smelled bad, and both of them smiled toothlessly up at him.

“Drink?” one of them offered, slurring. The other one was drunker and looked half asleep.

“Have you guys ever thought of going to AA?” Everett asked amiably, declining the bottle, as the one who'd offered it looked at him in disgust and turned away. He nudged his buddy, gestured toward Everett, and without a word the two of them got up and walked away to another stoop, where they sat down and continued drinking while Everett watched. “There but for the grace of God go I,” he whispered to himself, still waiting for Maggie. It seemed like the perfect way to spend Christmas Day, waiting for the woman he loved.

Maggie and Sarah had a nice time having tea at the St. Francis Hotel. They were serving a proper English high tea, with scones, pastries, and an assortment of tea sandwiches. And they chatted easily as they both sipped Earl Grey. Maggie thought Sarah looked sad, but didn't press her about it. And Maggie had been feeling down herself. She missed talking to Everett, their laughter and conversations, but after what had happened between them the last time, she knew she couldn't see or talk to him again. She didn't have the strength to resist him if she saw him. She had gone to confession about it, and strengthened her resolve since. But she missed him anyway. He had become a treasured friend.

Sarah talked about seeing Seth, how much she missed him, and the easy days of their old life. She had never, ever dreamed that it would all come to an end. It was the farthest thing from her mind.

She said she liked her job and the people she was meeting. But she was still keeping very much to herself socially. She was still too embarrassed to go out or see friends. She knew the city was still buzzing with gossip about them, and it was going to be worse around the time of the trial in March. There had been long discussions about whether to try to get continuances to delay the proceedings, or press for a speedy trial. Seth had decided he wanted to get it over with. And he seemed to get more stressed about it every day. She was deeply worried about it too.

The conversation meandered pleasantly as they talked about things in the city, Sarah taking Molly to The Nutcracker, Maggie serving at an ecumenical Christmas midnight mass the night before at Grace Cathedral. It was just a warm and cozy meeting between two friends. Their friendship had been a gift to each of them that year, an unexpected blessing as a result of the earthquake in May.

They left the St. Francis at five o'clock. Sarah dropped Maggie off at the corner of her block and headed uptown. She was thinking about going to a movie on her own, and invited Maggie, but she said she was tired and wanted to go home. And the film Sarah wanted to see sounded too depressing to her. Maggie waved as Sarah drove away, and then walked slowly up her block. She smiled at two of the hookers, both of whom lived in her building. One was a pretty Mexican girl, the other was a transvestite from Kansas who was always very nice to Maggie, and respectful of the fact that she was a nun.

Maggie was just about to walk up the steps, when she looked up and saw him. She stopped, no longer moving, and he smiled down at her. He had been sitting there for two hours, and he was getting cold. He didn't care if he froze to death sitting there, he wasn't going to move until she came home. And suddenly there she was.

She stood looking at him, unable to believe what she was seeing, and slowly he came down the stairs to where she stood.

“Hi Maggie,” he said gently. “Merry Christmas.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, staring at him. She had no idea what else to say.

“I was at a meeting this morning … and I shared about you …so I flew up to say Merry Christmas to you myself.” She nodded. It was conceivable to her. She could imagine him doing it just that way. No one had ever done anything like that for her before. She wanted to reach out and touch him to see if he was real, but she didn't dare.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her heart racing. “Do you want to go somewhere for a cup of coffee? My place is a mess.” And she didn't think it was proper to take him upstairs. The most important piece of furniture she had in the studio's only room was her bed. And it was unmade.

He laughed in answer to her question. “I'd love that. I've been freezing my ass off on your steps, literally, since three o'clock.” He brushed off the seat of his jeans then, as they walked to a coffee shop across the street. It was a dismal-looking place, but convenient, well lit, and the food was actually halfway decent. Maggie stopped there for dinner sometimes on the way home. The meat loaf was fairly good, and the scrambled eggs. And they were always nice to her because she was a nun.

Neither of them said another word until they sat down, and ordered coffee. Everett ordered a turkey sandwich, but Maggie had just eaten her fill at the lovely Christmas tea she'd shared with Sarah at the St. Francis.

He was the first to speak. “So how've you been?”

“Okay.” She felt tongue-tied for the first time in her life, and then relaxed a little, and almost looked like herself. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. Flying up here to wish me a Merry Christmas. Thank you, Everett,” she said solemnly.

“I've missed you. A lot. That's why I'm here today. It suddenly seemed stupid that we can't talk to each other anymore. I guess I should apologize for what happened last time, except that I'm not sorry we did it. It was the best thing that's ever happened to me.” He was always honest with her.

“Me too.” The words fell out of her mouth without her permission, but it was how she felt. “I still don't know how that happened.” She looked remorseful and penitent.

“Don't you? I do. I think we love each other. Or at least I do. And I get the feeling you do too. At least I hope you do.” He didn't want her to suffer for her feelings for him, but he couldn't help hoping that they were in love with each other, and it wasn't just happening to him. “I don't know what we'd ever do about it, if anything. That's another story. But I wanted you to know how I feel.”

“I love you too,” she said sadly. It was the single greatest sin she had ever committed against the Church, and the greatest challenge to her vows, but it was true. She thought he had a right to know.

“Well, that's good news,” he said, taking a bite out of his sandwich. After he had swallowed it, he smiled at her, relieved by what she'd said.

“No, it's not,” she corrected him. “I can't give up my vows. This is my life.” But now, in some way, he was too. “I don't know what to do.”

“How about if we just enjoy it for right now, and think about it? Maybe there is some right way for you to move on into a different life. Kind of like an honorable discharge maybe.” She smiled at what he'd said.

“They don't give you those when you leave the order. I know people do it, my brother did, but I could never imagine doing that myself.”

“Then maybe you won't,” he said fairly. “Maybe we just stay like this. But at least we know we love each other. I didn't come up here to ask you to run away with me, although I'd love it if you did. Why don't you think about it, without torturing yourself? Give it some time, and see how you feel.” She loved how reasonable and sensible he was.

“I'm scared,” she said honestly.

“Me too,” he said, and took her hand in his own. “This is scary stuff. I'm not sure I've ever been in love with anyone in my life. I was too drunk to give a damn about anyone for about thirty years, including myself. Now I wake up, and there you are.” She loved what he had said.

“I've never been in love,” she said quietly, “till you. I never in a million years thought this would happen to me.”

“Maybe God figured it was time.”

“Or He's checking my vocation. I'll feel like an orphan if I leave the Church.”

“I may have to adopt you then. That's a possibility. Can you adopt nuns?” She laughed at what he said. “I'm so happy to see you, Maggie.”

She started to relax then, and they talked the way they always did. She told him about what she'd been doing, he told her about stories he'd covered. They talked about Seth's impending trial. He said he had talked to his editor at length, and might cover it for Scoop. He said if so, he'd be in San Francisco for many weeks, starting in March, when the trial was scheduled to begin. She liked the idea of his being there, and the fact that he wasn't rushing her. By the time they left the coffee shop, they were comfortable with each other again. He held her hand as they crossed the street. It was nearly eight o'clock by then and time for him to catch a plane back to L.A.

She didn't invite him up, but they stood there for a long minute. “This is the best Christmas gift I've ever had.” She smiled at him.

“Me too.” He kissed her gently on the forehead. He didn't want to frighten her, and people in the neighborhood knew she was a nun. He didn't want to compromise her reputation by kissing her. And she wasn't ready for it anyway. She needed to think. “I'll call you, and see how things are going.” And then he caught his breath, and felt like a kid when he spoke. “Will you think about things, Maggie? I know this is a big decision for you. They don't come bigger than this. But I love you, and I'm here for you, and if you were ever crazy enough to do it, I would be honored to marry you. Just so you know what I'm offering is respectable.”

“I wouldn't expect anything less of you, Everett,” she said primly, and then beamed. “I've never been proposed to before either, come to think of it.” She felt giddy as she looked at him, stood on tiptoe, and kissed his cheek.

“Can a recovering alcoholic and a nun be happy together? Stay tuned.” He was laughing as he said it, and suddenly out of the blue, he realized that she was still young enough to have babies, maybe even a few of them, if they got started soon. He liked that idea, but didn't mention it to her. She had enough on her mind as it was.

“Thank you, Everett,” she said, as she unlocked the front door, and he whistled to a passing cab that stopped in front of them. “I'll think about it. I promise.”

“Take as long as you want. I'm in no hurry. There's no pressure on you.”

“Let's see what God has to say about all this,” she said, smiling at him.

“Okay. You ask Him. Meanwhile, I'll start lighting candles.” He had loved doing that as a kid.

She waved as she disappeared into the building, and he ran down the steps to the waiting cab. He looked up at the building as they drove away, thinking that this was possibly the best day of his life. He had love, and better yet, he had hope. And best of all, he had Maggie … almost. And for dead-ass sure, she had him.

Chapter 19

The day after Christmas, filled with the energy of seeing Maggie, Everett sat down at his computer, got on the Internet, and started playing. He knew there were sites that did particular searches. He typed in some information, and a questionnaire appeared on his screen. He carefully answered all the questions, although he didn't have much information. Name, birthdate, place of birth, parents’ names, last known address. That was all he had to go on. No current address, Social Security number, or any other type of information. He kept it limited to Montana. If nothing turned up there, he could search other states. He sat quietly at his computer waiting to see what would come back. There was hardly a pause before a name and address were on his screen. It had all been so simple and so quick. After twenty-seven years, there he was. Charles Lewis Carson. Chad. With an address in Butte, Montana. It had taken twenty-seven years to look for him, but now he was ready. There was a phone number and e-mail address too.

He thought about e-mailing and decided not to. He jotted all the information down on a piece of paper, sat thinking about it for a while, walked around his apartment, and then took a deep breath, called the airline, and made a reservation. There was a flight out at four o'clock that afternoon. Everett decided to be on it. He could call him when he got there, or maybe just drive by and see what the house looked like. Chad was thirty years old, and Everett hadn't even seen a photograph in all these years. He and his ex-wife had completely lost contact, after he stopped sending her support checks when Chad turned eighteen, and the only contact between them before that, as Chad grew up, were the checks he sent her every month, and her signature on the back when she endorsed them. They had stopped exchanging letters when Chad was four, and he hadn't had a single photograph since, nor asked for one.

Everett knew nothing about him now, married, single, whether or not he went to college, what he did for a living. He had another thought then and typed in the same questions for Susan, but didn't find her. She might have moved to another state, or gotten remarried. There were a number of reasons why she might not turn up on the screen. All he really wanted to do was see Chad. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to meet him. Everett wanted to take a look and decide once he was there. This had been a hard decision for him, and he knew that both Maggie and his recovery had a lot to do with it. Before both of those factors entered his life, he wouldn't have had the courage to do this. He had to face his own failures in this case, his inability to relate or engage, to even try to be a father. He had been eighteen when Chad was born, a baby himself. Now Chad was older than he had been when his son was born. Everett was twenty-one the last time he saw him, and went off to become a photographer floating around the world, like a soldier of fortune. But no matter how he dressed it up or tried to romanticize it, for all intents and purposes and from Chad's perspective, Everett had abandoned him and disappeared. Everett was ashamed of having done it, and it was entirely possible that Chad hated him. He certainly had a right to. Everett was finally willing to face him now after all these years. Maggie had given him the push he needed.

He was quiet and pensive on the way to the airport, bought a cup of coffee at Starbucks and took it on the plane with him, and then sat staring out the window while he drank it. This was different than the trip he'd taken the day before, when he went to San Francisco to see Maggie. Even if she was angry, or was avoiding him, they had some kind of relationship, all or most of which had been pleasant. He and Chad had nothing, except Everett's total failure to be a father. There was nothing to draw from or build on. There had been no communication and no bridge between them for twenty-seven years. Other than DNA, they were total strangers.

The plane landed in Butte and Everett asked a cabdriver to drive him past the address he had taken off the Internet. It was a small, clean, cheaply built house in a residential district of the city. It wasn't a fancy neighborhood, but it wasn't a slum either. It looked ordinary, mundane, and pleasant. The patch of grass outside was small but neatly tended.

After they'd seen it, Everett asked the driver to take him to the nearest motel. It was a Ramada Inn, and had nothing distinctive about it. He asked for the smallest, cheapest room, bought a soda from a vending machine, and went back to his room. He sat there for a long time, staring at the phone, wanting to dial the number, but too afraid to, and finally he got up the guts to do it. He was feeling like he wanted to go to a meeting. He knew he could do that eventually, but first he wanted to call Chad. He could always share about it later, and probably would.

The phone was answered on the second ring. It was a woman, and for a minute Everett wondered if he had the wrong number. If he did, it could get complicated. Charles Carson wasn't an unusual name, and there could have been many in the phone book.

“Is Mr. Carson in?” Everett asked in a polite, pleasant voice. Everett could feel his voice shake, but the woman didn't know him well enough to hear it.

“I'm sorry, he's out. He should be back in half an hour.” She readily gave out the information. “Should I give him a message?”

“I…no…uh… I'll call back,” Everett said, and hung up before she could ask him any questions. Everett wondered who the girl was. Wife? Sister? Girlfriend?

He lay on the bed then, turned on the TV, and dozed off. It was eight o'clock when he woke up, and stared at the phone again. He rolled over on the bed and dialed the number. A man answered this time in a strong, clear voice.

“Is Charles Carson in, please?” Everett asked the voice on the other end, and waited breathlessly. He had a feeling this was it, and the prospect of it made him feel dizzy. This was much harder than he had expected. And once he identified himself, then what? Chad might not want to see him. Why would he?

“This is Chad Carson,” the voice corrected. “Who is this?” He sounded mildly suspicious. The use of his full name told him that the caller was a stranger.

“I…uh… mmmm …I know this sounds crazy, and I don't know where to start.” He blurted it out then. “My name is Everett Carson. I'm your father.” There was dead silence at the other end of the phone, as the man who'd answered tried to figure out what had just hit him. Everett could easily imagine the kind of things Chad might say to him, “get lost” being by far the nicest of them. “I'm not sure what to say to you, Chad. I guess I'm sorry is the first thing, although it doesn't cover twenty-seven years. I'm not sure anything could. And if you don't want to talk to me, that's okay. You don't owe me a thing, not even conversation.” The silence continued as Everett wondered if he should continue talking, or hang up discreetly. He decided to wait through a few more seconds of silence, before he gave up completely. It had taken him twenty-seven years to reach out to his son and initiate a reunion. Chad had no idea what was going on and was shocked into silence.

“Where are you?” was all he said, as Everett wondered what he was thinking. This was all pretty scary.

“I'm in Butte.” Everett still said it like a native, although he had lived in other places. He still had the faint accent of Montana.

“You are?” Chad sounded astonished again. “What are you doing here?”

“I have a son here,” Everett said simply. “I haven't seen him in a long time. I don't know if you want to see me, Chad. And I wouldn't blame you if you don't. I've been thinking about doing this for a long time. But I'll do whatever you want. I came to see you, but it's up to you if you want to. If not, I understand. You don't owe me anything. I'm the one who owes you an apology for the last twenty-seven years.” There was silence at the other end, while the son he didn't know digested what he said. “I came to make amends.”

“Are you in AA?” Chad asked cautiously, recognizing the familiar words.

“Yes, I am. Twenty months. It's the best thing I ever did. That's why I'm here.”

“Me too,” Chad said with some hesitation. And then he had an idea. “Do you want to go to a meeting?”

“Yes, I do.” Everett took a deep breath.

“There's one at nine o'clock,” Chad offered. “Where are you staying?”

“The Ramada Inn.”

“I'll pick you up. I drive a black Ford pick-up. I'll honk twice. I'll be there in ten minutes.” In spite of everything, he wanted to see his dad, as much as his father wanted to see him.

Everett threw some cold water on his face, combed his hair, and looked in the mirror. What he saw was a forty-eight-year-old man who'd seen a lot of rough road in his day, and had abandoned his three-year-old son at twenty-one. It was something he wasn't proud of. There were a lot of things that still haunted him, and that was one. He hadn't hurt many people in his life, but the one he had hurt most was his son. There was no way he could make it up to him, or give him back his years without a father, but at least he was here now.

He was standing outside the hotel in jeans and a heavy jacket when Chad pulled up. Everett saw that he was a tall, handsome boy, with blond hair and blue eyes, a powerful build, and the gait of Montana as he got out of his truck and approached. He walked to where Everett stood, looked at him long and hard, and held out his hand to shake his father's. The two men looked into each other's eyes, and Everett had to fight back tears. He didn't want to embarrass this man who was a total stranger to him but looked like a good man, the kind of son any father would have been proud to know and love. They shook hands, and Chad nodded acknowledgment. He was normally a man of few words.

“Thanks for coming to pick me up,” Everett said as he got into his truck, and saw photographs of two little girls and a boy. “Are those your kids?” Everett looked at them in surprise. It had never even occurred to him that Chad would have children of his own. Chad smiled and nodded.

“And another one on the way. They're nice kids.”

“How old are they?”

“Jimmy is seven, Billy's five, and Amanda is three. I thought we'd done it, but then we got a surprise six months ago. Another girl.”

“That's quite a family.” Everett smiled and then laughed. “Holy shit, I've had my son back for five minutes, and I'm already a grandfather, times four. Serves me right, I guess. You got started early,” Everett commented, and this time Chad smiled.

“So did you.”

“A little earlier than planned.” He hesitated for a moment then, afraid to ask, but decided to anyway. “How's your mom?”

“She's okay. She got married again, but she never had any other kids. She's still here.” Everett nodded. He was leery of seeing her again. Their brief adolescent marriage had left a bitter taste in his mouth and probably hers too. They had shared a miserable three years, which finally drove him away. They were the worst possible match he could have imagined, a nightmare right from the beginning. She had threatened to shoot him once with her father's rifle. A month later, Everett walked out. He figured if he didn't, he'd kill her or himself. It had been three years of constant battles. He had started drinking heavily then, and kept at it for twenty-six years.

“What do you do?” Everett asked Chad with interest. He was a strikingly handsome young man, far more so than he himself had been at Chad's age. Chad had a chiseled face and was a rugged man. He was even taller than Everett and had a far more powerful build, as though he worked in the outdoors, or should.

“I'm the assistant foreman at the TBar7 Ranch. It's twenty miles out of town. It's all horses and cattle.” He looked like the perfect cowboy.

“Did you go to college?”

“Junior college. Two years. At night. Mom wanted me to go to law school.” He smiled. “That's not my thing. College was okay, but I'm a hell of a lot happier on a horse than at a desk, although I have to put in a fair amount of desk time now too. I don't like it much. Debbie, my wife, teaches school. Fourth grade. She's a hell of a rider. She's in the rodeo in the summer.” They were the perfect cowboy and wife, and Everett didn't know why, but he sensed that they had a good marriage. He looked like the kind of guy who would. “Did you get married again?” Chad looked at him with curiosity.

“No. I was healed,” he said, and they both laughed. “I've been roaming around the world for all these years, until twenty months ago, when I put myself in rehab and dried up, long overdue. I was too busy and too drunk for all this time for any decent woman to want me. I'm a journalist,” he added, and Chad smiled.

“I know. Mom shows me your pictures sometimes. She always did. You do some pretty cool stuff, mostly wars. You must have been to some interesting places.”

“Yeah, I have.” He realized that he sounded more Montana himself now, talking to the boy. Short sentences, clipped words, and fewer of them. Everything here was spare, just like the rugged terrain. There was an incredible natural beauty to it, and he thought it was interesting that his son had stayed close to home, unlike his father, who had gone as far as he could from his roots. He had no family here now, the little he had were all dead. He had never come back again, except finally, for his son.

They reached the little church then, where the meeting was, and as he followed Chad down the stairs to the basement, he realized how lucky he was to have found him, and that Chad had been willing to see him at all. It could easily have been otherwise. He gave silent thanks to Maggie as he walked into the room. It was only due to her gentle, persistent persuasion that he had come, and he was thrilled now that he had. She had asked him about his son the night they met.

Everett was surprised to see that there were thirty people in the room, mostly men and a few women. He and Chad sat down next to each other on folding chairs. The meeting had just started and followed the familiar format. Everett spoke up when they asked newcomers or visitors to identify themselves. He said that his name was Everett, he was an alcoholic, and had been in recovery for twenty months. Everyone in the room said “Hi, Everett!” and they went on.

He shared that night, and so did Chad. Everett spoke first, and found himself talking about his early drinking, his unhappy shotgun marriage, leaving Montana, and abandoning his son. He said it was the single event in his life he most regretted, that he was there to make amends and clean up the wreckage of the past, if possible, and that he was grateful to be there. Chad sat and looked at his feet while his father spoke. He was wearing well-worn cowboy boots, not unlike his father's. Everett was wearing his favorite pair of black lizard. Chad's were the boots of a working cowboy, splattered with mud, dark brown, and well worn. All the men in the room were wearing cowboy boots and even some of the women. And the men held Stetsons on their laps.

Chad shared that he had been in recovery for eight years, since he got married, which was interesting information for his father. He said he'd had a fight again that day with the foreman, and would have loved to quit his job but couldn't afford to, and that the baby in the spring would put additional pressure on him. He said that sometimes he got scared of all the responsibilities he had. And then he said that he loved his kids anyway, and his wife, and things would probably work out. But he admitted that the new baby locked him even more into his job, and he was resentful about it at times. And then he glanced at his father, and said that it was weird meeting a father he had never known, but he was glad he had come back, even if long overdue.

The two men mingled with the crowd afterward, after the whole group held hands and said the Serenity Prayer. And once the official format of the meeting was over, everyone welcomed Everett, and spoke to Chad. They all knew each other. There were no strangers at the meeting, except Everett. The women had brought coffee and cookies, and one of them was the secretary of the meeting. Everett had liked the shares and said he had thought it was a good meeting. Chad introduced his father to his sponsor, a grizzled-looking old cowboy with a beard and laughing eyes, and his two sponsees, who were about his own age. Chad said he had been a sponsor in AA for almost seven years.

“You've got some time in recovery,” Everett commented when they left. “Thanks for letting me come with you tonight. I needed a meeting.”

“How often do you go?” Chad inquired. He had liked his father's share. It was open and honest and seemed sincere.

“When I'm in L.A., twice a day. Once, when I'm on the road. What about you?”

“Three times a week.”

“That's a heavy load you're carrying with four kids.” He had a lot of respect for him. Somehow he had assumed that Chad had lived in suspended animation for all these years, a child forever, and instead he was a man with a wife and family of his own. In some ways, Everett recognized, he had made more of his life than his father. “What's with the foreman?”

“He's a jerk,” Chad said, looking suddenly young and annoyed. “He rides my ass all the time. He's very old-fashioned, and he runs the ranch the same way he did forty years ago. He's going to retire next year.”

“Think you'll get the job?” Everett asked with fatherly concern, and Chad laughed and turned to look at him as they drove up to the hotel.

“You've been back an hour, and now you're worrying about my job? Thanks, Dad. Yeah, I damn well better get the job or I'll be pissed. I've been working there for ten years, and it's a good job.” Everett beamed when he called him Dad. It was a good feeling, and an honor he knew he didn't deserve. “How long are you going to be here?”

“That's up to you,” Everett said honestly. “What do you think?”

“Why don't you come to dinner tomorrow? It won't be fancy. I have to do the cooking. Debbie's been pretty sick. She always is when she's pregnant, right until the last day.”

“She must be a good sport to have done it so often. And so are you. That's no easy deal supporting all those kids.”

“They're worth it. Wait till you meet them. Actually”—Chad squinted, looking at him—“Billy looks like you.” Chad actually didn't, he looked like his mother, Everett had noticed, and her brothers, who had looked a lot like her. They had been big solid Swedish stock who had come to Montana two generations before from the Midwest, and Sweden before that. “I'll pick you up tomorrow at five-thirty when I get back from work. You can get to know the kids while I cook. And you'll have to forgive Debbie. She feels like shit.” Everett nodded and thanked him. Chad was being incredibly welcoming, so much more than Everett felt he deserved. But he was grateful that after all these years Chad was so willing to open up his life to him. Everett had been a piece missing from his life for too long.

Both men waved at each other as Chad drove away, and Everett hurried back to his room. It was freezing outside, and there was ice on the ground. He sat down on his bed with a smile and called Maggie. She answered on the first ring.

“Thanks for coming up yesterday,” Maggie said warmly. “It was nice,” she continued softly.

“Yes, it was. I've got something to tell you. It may come as a surprise.” She got nervous listening to him, wondering if he was going to put more pressure on her than he had the day before. “I'm a grandfather.”

“What?” She laughed. She thought he was kidding. “Since yesterday? That was quick.”

“Apparently not so quick. They're seven, five, and three. Two boys and a girl. And another one on the way.” He was beaming as he said it. He suddenly liked the idea that he had a family, even if grandchildren made him feel ancient. But what the hell.

“Wait a minute. I'm confused. Did I miss something? Where are you anyway?”

“I'm in Butte,” he said proudly, and all thanks to her. It was yet another gift she had given him, one of many.

“Montana?”

“Yes, ma'am. I flew in today. He's a terrific kid. Not a kid, a man. He's the assistant foreman at a ranch here, and he has three kids and another one on the way. I haven't met them yet, but I'm going to dinner at their place tomorrow. He even cooks.”

“Oh, Everett,” she said, sounding as excited as he was. “I'm so pleased. How's it going with Chad? Is he okay about things … about you …”

“He's a noble man. I don't know what his childhood was like, or how he feels about that. But he seems pleased to see me. Maybe we were both ready. He's in AA too, and has been for eight years. We went to a meeting here tonight. He's a really solid guy. He's a lot more grown-up than I was at his age, or maybe even now.”

“You're doing fine. I'm so glad you did that. I always hoped you would.”

“I never would have done it without you. Thank you, Maggie.” With her gentle, persistent urging, she had given him back his son, and a whole new family.

“Yes, you would have. I'm so glad you called and told me. How long are you staying?”

“A couple of days. I can't stay too long. I have to be in New York on New Year's Eve, to cover a concert Melanie is doing there. But I'm having a great time here. I wish you could come to New York with me. I know you'd enjoy seeing one of her concerts. She does an incredible job onstage.”

“Maybe I'll get to one, one of these days. I'd like to.”

“She's doing a concert in L.A. in May. I'll invite you down.” And with any luck at all, she might have made some kind of decision by then about leaving the convent. It was all he wished now, but he didn't mention it. It was a huge decision, and he knew she needed time to think. He had promised not to pressure her. He had just called to tell her about Chad and the kids, and to thank her for getting him there, in her usual quiet way.

“Have fun with the children tomorrow, Everett. Call and tell me how it went.”

“I promise. Goodnight, Maggie … and thank you …”

“Don't thank me, Everett.” She smiled. “Thank God.”

He did as he fell asleep that night.

The next day Everett went shopping for some toys to bring to the children. He bought a bottle of cologne for Debbie, and a big chocolate cake for dessert. He was carrying all of it in shopping bags when Chad picked him up, and helped him put it in the back of the truck. He told his father they were having barbecued chicken wings that night and mac and cheese. He and the kids were designing the menus these days.

The two men were happy to see each other, and Chad drove him to the small, neat house Everett had seen when he looked around to see where his son lived. It was warm and cozy inside, although there were toys in the living room, children lying on all the furniture, the television was on, and a pretty blond girl looking pale was reclining on the couch.

“You must be Debbie.” He spoke to her first, and she got up and shook his hand.

“I am. Chad was really happy to see you last night. We've talked about you a lot over the years.” She made it sound as though the comments in the past had been pleasant, although realistically he couldn't imagine that that would have been the case. Any mention of him would have had to be angry, or sad, for Chad anyway.

Everett turned to the children then, amazed by how sweet they were. They were as beautiful as their parents, and didn't seem to fight with each other. His granddaughter looked like an angel, and the two boys were sturdy little cowboys and big for their age. They looked like a poster family for the state of Montana. And while Chad cooked dinner and Debbie lay on the couch again, visibly pregnant, Everett played with the kids. They loved the toys he gave them. Then he showed the boys card tricks, sat Amanda on his lap, and when dinner was ready, he helped Chad dish it up for the kids. Debbie couldn't sit at the table, the sight and smell of the food made her feel too sick, but she joined in the conversation from the couch. Everett had a ball, and hated to leave when it was time for Chad to take him back to the motel. Everett thanked him profusely for a great evening.

When they pulled up in front of the motel, Chad turned to ask him a question. “I don't know how you feel about it … do you want to see Mom? It's okay if you don't. I just thought I'd ask.”

“Does she know I'm here?” Everett asked, looking nervous. “I told her this morning.”

“Does she want to see me?” Everett couldn't imagine that she did after all these years. Her memories couldn't be any better than his, and possibly worse.

“She wasn't sure. I think she's curious. Maybe it would be good for you both, for some kind of closure. She said she always thought she'd see you again and you'd come back. I think she was angry for a long time that you never did. But she got over all that a long time ago. She doesn't talk about you much. She said she could see you tomorrow morning. She's coming into town to see the dentist. She lives thirty miles out of town, past the ranch.”

“Maybe it would be a good idea,” Everett said, thinking. “It might help us both bury old ghosts.” He didn't think about her much either, but now that he'd seen Chad, it didn't seem so uncomfortable to see her, for a few minutes anyway, or whatever they could tolerate. “Why don't you ask her what she thinks? I'll be at the motel all day. I've got nothing much to do.” He had invited Chad and his family out to dinner the following day. Chad said they all loved Chinese and there was a good one in town. And then he was leaving the next day, for one night in L.A., and then off to New York for Melanie's concert.

“I'll tell her to come by if she wants.”

“Whatever works for her,” Everett said, trying to sound casual, but still feeling somewhat strained at the idea of seeing Susan again. After she left, he could go to a meeting, just as he had that day, in the afternoon before he saw Chad and the kids. He was religious about his meetings, wherever he was. There were plenty to choose from in L.A., though fewer here.

Chad said he'd relay the message and pick his father up for dinner the following night. And Everett reported on the evening to Maggie. He told her what a good time he'd had, how beautiful the children were, and well behaved. And for some reason, he didn't tell her about possibly seeing his ex-wife the next day. He hadn't quite absorbed it yet himself, and he was apprehensive about it. Maggie was even more thrilled for him than she'd been the day before.

Susan showed up at the motel at ten o'clock the next morning, just as Everett was finishing a Danish and coffee. She knocked on the door of his room, and when he opened it, they stood staring at each other for a long moment. There were two chairs in the room, and he invited her in. She looked both different and the same. She was a tall woman, and she had gotten heavy, but her face was the same. Her eyes explored his and looked him over. Seeing her was like examining a piece of his own history, a place and person he remembered, but no longer felt anything for. He couldn't remember loving her, and wondered if he had. They had both been so young, confused, and angry at the situation they were in. They sat in the room's two chairs, looking at each other, struggling for words. He had the same feeling he had then, of having absolutely nothing in common with her, a fact that, in his youthful lust and enthusiasm, he had failed to notice when they started dating, and she got pregnant. And then he remembered how trapped he had felt, how desperate, how bleak the future had looked to him when her father had insisted they get married, and Everett had agreed to what felt like a life sentence. The years had stretched ahead like a long lonely road, whenever he thought about it, and had filled him with despair then. He felt breathless again just remembering it, and recalled perfectly all the reasons why he had run away and began drinking heavily before that. An eternity with her had felt like suicide to him. He was sure she was a good person, but she had never been the right one for him. He had to fight to bring his mind back to the present, and for a fraction of a second he wanted a drink, and then remembered where he was, and that he was free. She couldn't trap him anymore. Circumstances had trapped him more than she had. They were both victims of their own destinies, and he hadn't wanted to share his with her. He had never been able to adjust to the idea of being with her forever, even for the sake of their son.

“Chad's a great kid,” he complimented her, and she nodded, with a small wintry smile. She didn't look like a happy person, nor miserable either. She was very bland. “And so are his children. You must be very proud of him. You did a great job with him, Susan. No thanks to me. I'm sorry about all those years.” It was his chance to make amends to her too, no matter how unhappy their time together had been. He realized even more acutely now what a lousy husband and father he had been then. He was just a kid himself.

“It's okay,” she said vaguely, while he thought that she looked older than her years. Her life in Montana hadn't been easy, nor was his on his travels. But it was more interesting than hers. She was so different than Maggie, who was so full of life. There was something about Susan that made him feel dead inside, even now. It was hard for him to even remember when she was pretty and young. “He was always a good boy. I thought he should have stayed in college, but he'd rather be outdoors on a horse than doing anything else.” She shrugged. “I guess he's happy where he is.” As Everett looked at her, he saw love in her eyes. She loved their son. He was grateful for that.

“He seems to be.” It was a father-mother discussion that seemed odd between them. It was probably the first and last they'd ever have. He hoped she was happy, although she didn't look like a cheerful, extroverted person. Her face was solemn and devoid of emotion. But this meeting wasn't easy for her either. She looked content as she looked at Everett, as though their meeting put something to rest for her too. They were so totally different, they would have been miserable if they'd stayed together. And as their visit ended, they both knew things had happened as they should.

She only stayed a short time, and he apologized to her again. And then she left for the dentist, and he went for a walk, and then to his AA meeting. He shared about seeing her and how it had reminded him of how desperate he had felt and how unhappy and trapped he felt when he was married to her. He felt as though he had finally closed the door on the past and double-locked it. She was all the reminder he needed of why he had left. A lifetime with her would have killed him, but he was grateful now to have Chad and his grandchildren. So in the end, she had shared something good with him. It had all happened for a reason, and now he could see what that was. He couldn't have known then that thirty years later it would all make sense, and Chad and his children would become the only family he had. She had actually brought something good into his life, and he was grateful to her for that.

Dinner at the Chinese restaurant that night was a huge amount of fun. He and Chad talked constantly, the children chattered and giggled and slopped Chinese food all over the place. Debbie came and tried to be a good sport about the food smells. She only had to go outside for air once. And when Chad dropped his father off at the motel afterward, he gave him a big hug, as did all the children and Debbie. And then Chad said, “Thanks for seeing Mom. I think it meant a lot to her. She never really felt like she said goodbye to you. She always thought you'd come back.” He could see why he never had, but he didn't say that to his son. Susan was his mother, after all, and she had been the one who'd been around to take care of him and love him. She might have been boring to Everett, but she had done a great job with their son, and he respected her for that.

“I think it did us both good to meet again,” Everett said honestly, and to remind him of the realities of the past.

“She said you had a nice time.” By her definition, not his. But it served its purpose, and he could see it was important to Chad, which made it all the more worthwhile.

He promised to come back and see them again, and to stay in touch. He left them his cell phone number and told them he moved around a lot when he was on assignments.

They all waved when they drove off. The visit had been a huge success, and he called Maggie again that night and told her all about it. He was genuinely sad to leave Butte the next day. His mission had been accomplished. He had found his son. He was a wonderful man, with a sweet wife and a great family. And even his ex-wife wasn't a monster, she just wasn't the woman he would have wanted or could have lived with. The trip to Montana had brought Everett a cornucopia of gifts. And the one who had made it possible for him was Maggie. She was the source of so many good things in his life.

Everett watched Montana drift away below him as the plane took off. As they circled before heading west, they passed over where he knew the ranch was, where Chad worked. He looked down with a quiet smile, knowing that he had a son, and grandchildren, and he would never lose them again. Now that he had faced his demons, and his own failings, he could return to see Chad and his family again and again. He looked forward to doing it, and maybe even bringing Maggie. He wanted to see the new baby in the spring. The visit he had dreaded for so long was the piece of him that had been missing for years, maybe all his life. And now, he had found it. The two greatest gifts in his life were Maggie and Chad.

Chapter 20

Everett covered Melanie's concert in New York on New Year's Eve. Madison Square Garden was packed with her fans, and she was in great form. Her ankle was healthy, her soul was peaceful, and he could see that she was happy and strong. He stood backstage with Tom for a few minutes, and took a picture of him with Melanie. Janet was there as usual, ordering everyone around, but she seemed a little more tempered about it, and less obnoxious. All seemed to be well in their world.

He called Maggie on New Year's Eve, at midnight for her. She was at home, watching TV. It was after the concert, and he had stayed up to call her. She said she was thinking about him, and she sounded troubled.

“Are you okay?” he asked, worried. He was always afraid that she might close the door on him, if it seemed the right thing to do, to her. He knew how powerful her loyalties were to her vows, and he represented a huge challenge and even threat to her, and all that she believed.

“I have a lot on my mind,” she admitted. She had decisions to make, a whole life to evaluate, her future and his to decide. “I pray about it constantly these days.”

“Don't pray too hard. Maybe if you just let it flow for a while, the answers will come.”

“I hope so,” she said with a sigh. “Happy New Year, Everett. I hope it's a great year for you.”

“I love you, Maggie,” he said, suddenly feeling lonely. He missed her, and had no idea how things would work out. He reminded himself, one day at a time, and said as much to her.

“I love you too, Everett. Thank you for calling me. Say hello to Melanie for me, if you see her again. Tell her I miss her.”

“I will. Goodnight, Maggie. Happy New Year …I hope it's a great one for us, if that's possible.”

“It's in God's hands.” She was leaving it up to Him. It was all she could do, and she would listen to whatever answer came to her in prayer.

As he turned off the light in his hotel room, his thoughts were full of Maggie, and so was his heart. He had promised her he wouldn't pressure her, even if sometimes he was scared. He said the Serenity Prayer to himself that night before he went to sleep. All he could do now was wait and hope that everything would turn out all right, for both of them. He was thinking about her as he fell asleep, wondering what lay ahead.

He didn't see Maggie again for the next two and a half months, although he spoke to her often. She said she needed time to think, and space. But in mid-March, he arrived in San Francisco, sent by Scoop magazine, to cover Seth's trial. Maggie knew he was coming in, and how busy he would be. She had dinner with him the night before it started. It was the first time he had seen her in nearly three months, and she looked great. He told her Debbie, Chad's wife, had had a baby girl they named Jade the night before. She was genuinely thrilled for him.

They had a quiet easy dinner, and he took her home. He left her on her front steps, and they talked about Sarah and Seth. Maggie said she was worried about her. It was going to be such a hard time for them both. She and Everett had both expected him to plea-bargain with the federal prosecutor at the last minute, and avoid the trial, but apparently he hadn't. So he was going to have to go through a jury trial. It was hard to believe the outcome would be good for him. Maggie said she prayed for the right outcome all the time.

Neither of them made any mention of their own situation, or the decision that Maggie was trying to make. Everett assumed that when she had come to some conclusion, she would tell him. And so far she hadn't, obviously. Mostly, they talked about the trial.

Sarah was at her Clay Street apartment that night, and she called Seth before she went to sleep.

“I just want you to know that I love you, and I want this to come out okay for you. I don't want you to think I'm mad. I'm not. I'm just scared, for both of us.”

“So am I,” he admitted. His doctor was giving him tranquilizers, and beta-blockers for the trial. He didn't see how he'd get through it, but he knew he had to, and he was grateful for her call. “Thanks, Sarah.”

“I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Seth.”

“I love you, Sarah,” he said sadly.

“I know,” she said, sounding equally sad, and hung up. She had not yet achieved the state of grace or forgiveness that she and Maggie had talked about. But she felt sorry for him. She was expressing compassion toward him, which was all she could do right now. More was just too much to ask.

When Everett got up the next day, he put his camera in his shoulder bag. He couldn't take it out in court, but he could take pictures of all the activity outside, and of the people who came and went. He got a shot of Sarah as she solemnly walked into the courthouse next to her husband. She was wearing a dark gray suit and looked pale. Seth looked considerably worse, which was hardly surprising. Sarah didn't see Everett. But later that morning Everett saw Maggie arrive. She took a seat in the courtroom to watch the proceedings from a discreet seat in the back. She wanted to be there for Sarah, if it helped her at all.

Afterward she came out and chatted with Everett for a few minutes. He was busy, and Maggie had to meet with a social worker to get a homeless man she knew into a shelter. She and Everett both had busy lives, and enjoyed what they did. She had dinner with him again that night, after he finished work at the trial. They were working on jury selection, and they both thought the trial could take a long time. The judge was warning jurors it could last a month, with detailed financial material to examine, and extensive reading to do on the matter at hand. Everett told her that night that Seth had looked grim all afternoon, and he and Sarah had hardly spoken to each other, but she was there, staunchly at his side.

It took two weeks for jury selection, which seemed agonizingly slow to Seth and Sarah, but finally they were set. They had twelve jurors and two alternates. Eight women and six men. And then finally the trial began. The prosecutor and defense attorney made their opening arguments. The prosecutor's description of Seth's immoral and illegal behavior made Sarah wince as she listened. Seth sat stonefaced, while the jury watched. He had the benefit of tranquilizers. She didn't. She couldn't imagine the defense team overcoming those arguments, as day after day, the prosecution presented evidence, witnesses, experts, all of it condemning Seth.

By the third week of the trial, Seth looked exhausted, and Sarah felt like she could hardly crawl when she went home to her children at night. She had taken time off from work to be with him, and Karen Johnson at the hospital told her not to worry about it. She was desperately sorry for Sarah, as was Maggie. She called Sarah every night to see how she was. Sarah was holding up despite the incredible pressure of the trial.

Everett dined with Maggie often during the agonizing weeks of the trial. It was April when he finally mentioned their situation again. Maggie said she didn't want to talk about it, she was still praying, so they discussed the trial instead, which was always depressing, but obsessed them both. It was all they talked about when they saw each other. The prosecution was burying Seth daily, and Everett said he had been suicidal to go to trial. The defense was doing their best, but the federal prosecutor's case was so damning that there was little they could do to balance the avalanche of evidence against him. As the weeks wore on, whenever she came to court to support her, Maggie could see Sarah getting thinner and paler by the hour. There was no way out but through it, but it was truly a trial by fire for them and their marriage. Seth's credibility and reputation were being utterly destroyed. It was upsetting for everyone who cared about them, particularly for Sarah's sake, to see where this was going. It became clearer to everyone that Seth should have plea-bargained for a lesser charge or sentence, rather than go to trial. It didn't seem possible that he could be acquitted given the accusations against him, and the testimony and evidence to support it. Sarah was innocent in all this, she had been duped just as his investors had been, but in the end, she was paying just as high a price, perhaps more. Maggie was devastated for her.

Sarah's parents came out for the first week of the trial, but her father had a heart condition. Her mother didn't want him wearing himself out, or sitting through the stress of the proceedings, so they went home as the case was still building against Seth, and they still had weeks ahead of them before it would be over.

The defense put an enormous amount of energy into defending Seth. Henry Jacobs was masterful in his demeanor, and solid in his talent as a lawyer. The problem was that Seth had given them little to work with, and their case was mostly smoke and mirrors, and it showed. The defense was about to rest the next day, as Everett and Maggie had dinner in the coffee shop across the street from her apartment, where they met often at the end of their days. Everett was writing daily items about the trial for Scoop. And Maggie was pursuing her normal activities, while spending any spare time she had at the trial. It gave her a chance to stay abreast of the proceedings, catch a few minutes with Everett during recesses and breaks, and to hug Sarah whenever possible to buoy her spirits as the nightmare went on.

“What's going to happen to her when he goes?” Everett asked Maggie. He was worried about Sarah too. She was beginning to look so broken and frail, but she hadn't missed a day beside her husband. And outwardly, she was always gracious and poised. She tried to exude a confidence and faith in him that Maggie knew only too well she didn't feel. She talked to her on the phone sometimes late at night. And more often than not, Sarah just sat at the other end and sobbed, completely distraught from the unrelenting stress. “I don't think there's a hope in hell that he'll get off.” After what he had heard in the past weeks, there was no doubt in Everett's mind. And he couldn't imagine the jury seeing it differently than he did.

“I don't know. She'll have to manage somehow. She has no choice. Her parents are there for her, but they live far away. They can only help her so much. She's pretty much on her own. I don't think they have a lot of close friends, and most of them have abandoned them in this mess. I think Sarah is too proud and too embarrassed by all this to reach out for help. She's very strong, but if he goes to prison, she'll be alone. I don't know that the marriage will survive it if he goes. That's a decision she'll have to make.”

“I give her credit for hanging in this long. I think I'd have dumped the bastard the day he got indicted. He deserves it. He took her life down with him. No one has the right to do that to another human being, out of sheer greed and dishonesty. If you ask me, the guy's a shit.”

“She loves him,” Maggie said simply, “and she's trying to be fair.”

“She's been more than fair. This guy totally screwed up her life, and sacrificed her and their kids’ future for his own benefit, and she's still sitting there, hanging in. It's a lot more than he deserves. Do you think she'll stick by him, Maggie, if he takes a fall?” He had never seen loyalty like Sarah's before, and knew he wouldn't have been capable of it himself. He admired her immensely, and felt desperately sorry for her. He was sure the whole courtroom did.

“I don't know,” Maggie said honestly. “I don't think Sarah knows either. She wants to do the right thing. But she's thirty-six years old. She has a right to a better life than this, if he goes to prison. If they divorce, she could start over again. If they don't, she's going to spend a lot of years visiting him in prison, and waiting for him, while life passes her by. I don't want to advise her, I can't. But I have mixed feelings about it myself. I told her that. Whatever happens, she needs to forgive, but that doesn't mean she has to give up her life for him forever, because he made a mistake.”

“This is a lot to forgive,” he said somberly, and Maggie nodded in agreement.

“Yes, it is. I'm not sure I could do it. Probably not,” she said honestly. “I'd like to think I'd be a bigger person than that, but I'm not sure I am. But only Sarah can decide what she wants. And I'm not sure she knows. She doesn't have a lot of options. She could even stay with him and never forgive him or forgive him and let him go. Grace expresses itself in strange ways sometimes. I just hope she finds the right answer for her.”

“I know what mine would be,” Everett said grimly. “Kill the bastard. But I guess that wouldn't help Sarah either. I don't envy her sitting there day after day, hearing what a dishonest sonofabitch he is. And she still walks out of court next to him every day and kisses him goodbye before she goes home to their kids.” While they waited for dessert, Everett decided to broach a much more delicate subject with her again. On the day after Christmas Maggie had agreed to think about them. It had been almost four months, and like Sarah, she had made no decision either, and avoided discussing it with him. The suspense was starting to kill him. He knew she loved him, but didn't want to leave the convent either. This was an agonizing decision for her too. And like Sarah, she was seeking answers and a state of grace, which would allow her to finally discover the right thing to do. In Sarah's case, all solutions were onerous, and in some ways, in Maggie's too. Either she had to leave the convent for Everett, to share a life with him, or she had to give up that hope and remain faithful to her vows for the rest of her years. In either case, she lost something she loved and wanted, and in either case, she won something in return. But she had to trade one for the other, she couldn't have both. Everett searched her eyes as he gently tried to open the subject again. He had promised not to pressure her and to give her all the time she needed, but there were times when he just wanted to reach out to her and hold her, and beg her to run away with him. He knew that she wouldn't. If she came toward him and chose a life with him, it would be precise, well thought out, not precipitous, and above all, it would be honest and clean.

“So what are you thinking about us these days?” he inquired cautiously, as she stared into her coffee cup and then at him. He saw the agony in her eyes when she did, and was suddenly terrified she had made a decision that was not in favor of him.

“I don't know, Everett,” she said with a sigh. “I love you. I know that. I just don't know what my path is meant to be now, which direction to go. I want to be sure I choose the right one, for both of us.” She had been giving it her every attention and thought for the past four months, and even before, ever since their first kiss.

“You know what my vote is,” he said with a small nervous smile. “I figure God will love you whatever you do, and so will I. But I sure would love to have a life with you, Maggie.” And even kids, though he never pressed her on that either. One major decision was enough for the time being. If appropriate, they could discuss other things later. Right now she had to tackle a far bigger decision. “Maybe you should talk to your brother. He went through it. How did he feel?”

“He never had as strong a vocation. And the minute he met his wife, he was out the door. I don't think he was ever as torn by it. He said that if God put her on his path, it was meant to be. I wish I were as sure. Maybe this is some extreme form of temptation to try me, or perhaps this is destiny knocking at the door.” He could see how tormented she still was, and couldn't help wondering if she'd ever really make a decision, or finally just give up.

“You can still work with the poor on the streets, just as you do now. You could be a nurse practitioner, or a social worker, or both. You can do whatever you want to, Maggie. You don't have to give that up.” He had said that to her before. The problem for her was not so much her work as her vows. They both knew that was the issue for her. What he didn't know was that she had been talking to the provincial of the order for three months now, her mother superior, her confessor, and a psychologist who specialized in the problems that arose in religious communities. She was doing everything possible to make the decision wisely, not just wrestling with it alone. He would have been encouraged to know it, but she didn't want to give him false hope, if she didn't come through for him in the end.

“Can you give me a little more time?” she asked, looking pained. She had set herself a deadline of June to make up her mind, but she didn't tell him that either, for the same reasons.

“Of course I can,” he said reasonably, and walked her back to her building across the street. He had been up to see her apartment by then and was horrified by how small, spare, and depressing it was. She insisted she didn't mind and said it was much nicer and larger than any nun's cell in any convent. She took the vow of poverty seriously, just as she did the others she'd taken. He didn't say it, but he couldn't have lived in her apartment for a day. And the only decoration was a simple crucifix on one wall. Other than that, the apartment was bare, except for her bed, a chest of drawers, and a single broken chair she'd found on the street.

He went to a meeting after he dropped her off, and then went back to his hotel room to write his report on the trial for the day. Scoop liked what he was sending them. His editorials were well written, and he had gotten some terrific photographs outside the courthouse.

The defense took nearly a full day to rest its case. Seth sat frowning, looking anxious, while Sarah closed her eyes several times, listening with total concentration, as Maggie sat in the back of the courtroom and prayed. Henry Jacobs and his team of defense attorneys had made a good case, and defended Seth as best they could. Under the circumstances, they had done a fine job. But the circumstances were not good.

The judge instructed the jury the next day, thanked the witnesses for their testimony, the attorneys for their excellent work, on behalf of the defendant and the government, and then the jury retired to do their job. Other than that, court was adjourned, pending the jury's decision. Sarah and Seth were left to hang around with their attorneys and wait. They all knew it could take days. Everett walked Maggie out then. She had stopped for a minute to talk to Sarah, who insisted she was all right but didn't look it, and then Maggie walked out to the street with Everett, talked to him for a few minutes, and left for an appointment. She was meeting with the provincial again, but didn't mention it to Everett. She just kissed him on the cheek and left. And he went back inside to wait with the others, while the jury deliberated.

Sarah sat beside Seth in two chairs at the back of the courtroom. They had gotten some air for a few minutes, but nothing really helped. Sarah felt like she was waiting for yet another bomb to hit them. They both knew it was coming. The only question was how hard it would hit, and how much destruction it would do when it did.

“I'm sorry, Sarah,” Seth said softly. “I'm so sorry I put you through this. I never thought anything like this could happen.” It would have been nice if he had thought of it before instead of after, but Sarah didn't say it. “Do you hate me?” He searched her eyes, and she shook her head, crying as she did constantly now. Every emotion she'd ever had was brought up to the surface. She felt as though she had no emotional resources left. She had used them all to stand by him.

“I don't hate you. I love you. I just wish this hadn't happened.”

“So do I. I wish I had copped a plea instead of putting you through all this bullshit. I just thought maybe we could win it.” She feared he had been as delusional about that as he had been when committing the crime with Sully. In the end, both men had given each other up during investigation. So much so that their respective information about each other had only served to confirm their respective guilt, rather than saving either of them from the consequences of their actions, or diminishing their punishment. The federal prosecutors in California and New York had made no deal with either of them. They had given Seth the opportunity to plea-bargain early on, and then rescinded it later. Henry had warned him that going to trial could possibly make his sentence worse, but a gambler at heart, more than anyone had realized, Seth had decided to take the chance, and now he feared the result, as they waited for the jury to make the decision. Once they did, the judge would sentence him a month later.

“We'll just have to wait and see what they decide,” Sarah said quietly. Their fate was in the jury's hands.

“What about you?” Seth said anxiously. He didn't want her to desert him now. He needed her too badly, whatever it cost her. “Have you made any decisions about us?” She shook her head and didn't answer. They had too much on their plates just then to add divorce to the mess they were dealing with. She wanted to wait for the jury's decision, and Seth didn't press her. He was too afraid of what would happen if he did. He could see that Sarah was at the breaking point already, and had been for a while. The trial had taken a toll on her, but she had been staunch and faithful to the end, just as she had promised. She was a woman of her word, which was more than anyone could have said for him. Everett referred to him as a scumbag to Maggie. And others had said worse, although not to Sarah's face. She was the hero in the story, and the victim, and in Everett's eyes, the saint.

They waited six days for the jury to finish their deliberations. The evidence was complicated, and the wait agonizing for Sarah and Seth. Night after night, they went home to their separate apartments. Seth had asked if she would come home with him one night, he was too terrified to be alone, but Molly was sick, and in truth, she didn't want to spend the night with Seth. It would have been too hard for her. She was trying to protect herself a little, although she felt sad to say no to him. She knew how badly he was hurting, but so was she. He went back to his apartment and got drunk instead. He called her at two in the morning, incoherent, telling her he loved her. And he was visibly hung over the next day. The jury finally came back into the courtroom, late that afternoon. And everyone started scurrying, as court was reconvened.

The judge was solemn as he asked them if they had reached a verdict in the matter of United States v. Seth Sloane, and the foreman stood, looking equally solemn and serious. He owned a pizzeria, had attended a year of college, and was a Catholic with six children. He was extremely respectful of his duties, and had worn a suit and tie to court every day.

“We have, your honor,” the foreman said. There were five felony charges against Seth. The judge reeled each of them off, and in each case the foreman answered the question of how the jury had found Seth. The entire courtroom held its breath as he responded. They had found him guilty of each charge.

There was a momentary silence as spectactors in the courtroom absorbed it, and then an explosion of talk and sounds, as the judge rapped his gavel soundly, called them all to order, thanked the jury, and dismissed them. The trial had taken five weeks, and their deliberations had added a sixth. And as Sarah understood what had happened, she turned to look at Seth. He was sitting in his chair and crying. He looked up at her in desperation. The only hope they had for appeal, according to Henry Jacobs, was in the case of new evidence or some irregularity during the proceedings of the trial. He had already told Seth that, barring some unforeseen later development, he had no grounds for appeal. It was over. He had been found guilty. And in a month it would be up to the judge to sentence him. But he was going to jail. Sarah looked as devastated as he did. She knew it was coming, she had done everything to prepare herself for it, and she wasn't surprised. She was just heartbroken for him, for herself, and for their children, who would grow up with a father they scarcely knew in prison.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered to him, and then their attorneys helped get them out of the courtroom.

Everett sprang into action then, to get the photographs he knew he had to get for Scoop. He hated to intrude on Sarah, at such a time of distress for her. But he had no choice but to rush at them outside the courtroom, in the press of photographers and news cameras. It was his job. Seth was almost snarling as he pushed his way through the crowd, and Sarah looked as though she might faint as she followed him to their waiting car. They had a driver and town car waiting for them outside the courthouse. They were gone in minutes, as the crowd milled around.

Everett saw Maggie on the courthouse steps. She hadn't been able to get near Sarah to say anything to her. He waved at her, and she saw him and came down the steps to meet him. She was grave-faced and looked worried, although the verdict was no surprise. And the sentencing was liable to be worse. There was no telling how long the judge would send him away for, but it was likely to be a very long time. Particularly since he hadn't pled guilty, and had pushed for a jury trial, which wasted taxpayers’ money, in the hope of having a fleet of highly paid lawyers do their fancy footwork to get him off. It hadn't worked, but made an inclination toward leniency less likely for him. He had pushed it to the max, and there was a good chance the judge would push back. He had a certain amount of discretion in the range of sentencing for Seth's crimes. Maggie feared the worst for him, and for Sarah now.

“I'm so sorry for her,” Maggie said to Everett as they walked to his rented car parked in the garage. It was all at Scoop's expense. His job was over in San Francisco. He would fly up for the day of the sentencing, and maybe get a couple of shots of Seth being escorted into a federal prison. In thirty days, it would be all over for Seth. He was out on bail till then. And once the money was returned by the bail bondsman, it was going straight into a fund for his defense for the civil suits that had been filed against him by the investors he had defrauded. His conviction was all the evidence they needed to justify their suits, and even win them. After that, there would be nothing left for Sarah and the children. Sarah was well aware of that, as were Everett and Maggie. She had gotten screwed, just as his investors had. They could sue him, the government could penalize him, and all Sarah could do was pick up the pieces of her and her children's lives. It seemed so desperately unfair to Maggie, but some things were in life. She hated to see things like that happen to good people, and she looked profoundly depressed as she got into Everett's car.

“I know, Maggie,” he said gently. “I don't like it either. But there was no way he should have gotten off.” It was an ugly story with a sad ending. Not the happy ending Sarah had hoped to live with Seth, or that anyone who knew her would have wanted for her.

“I just hate this for Sarah.”

“So do I,” Everett said as he started the car. The Tenderloin wasn't far from the courthouse, and he stopped in front of her building a few minutes later.

“Are you flying back tonight?” Maggie asked him sadly.

“I guess so. They're going to want me in the office tomorrow morning. I need to check the pictures and coordinate the story. Do you want to have something to eat before I go?” He hated to leave her, but he had been in San Francisco for well over a month, and Scoop would want him back.

“I don't think I could eat,” she said honestly. And then she turned to him with a wistful smile. “I'll miss you, Everett.” She had gotten so used to having him there, and seeing him every day, at the courthouse and afterward. They had had dinner almost every night. His leaving was going to leave a terrible void in her life. She also realized that it would give her a chance to see how she felt about him. She had important decisions to make, not unlike Sarah. Sarah didn't have anything to look forward to if she stayed with Seth, except his release from prison a long time from now. His sentence hadn't even started, or been determined yet. And her sentence would be just as long as his. It seemed like cruel and unusual punishment for her to Maggie. In her own case, there were blessings whatever she decided, although there were losses too. In each case, there was a loss and a gain woven into each other. It was impossible to separate them, which was what made the decision so difficult for Maggie.

“I'm going to miss you too, Maggie,” Everett said as he smiled at her. “I'll see you when I come up for the sentencing, or I can come for a day sometime, if you want me to. It's up to you. All you have to do is call me.”

“Thank you,” Maggie said quietly, as she looked at him, and he leaned over and kissed her. She felt her heart go out to him as he did. She clung to him for a minute, wondering how she could ever give that up, but knowing she might have to. She left the car without saying another word to him. He knew she loved him, just as she knew he loved her. There was nothing more for them to say to each other for now.

Chapter 21

Sarah walked into the Broadway apartment with Seth to make sure he would be all right. He looked alternately dazed and angry and as though he was going to cry again. He didn't want to go to her place and see the children. He knew they would pick up on his sense of devastation and despair, even though they knew nothing about the trial. It was obvious that something terrible had happened to both their parents. In fact, it had happened months before, the first time he had defrauded his investors, thinking he would never get caught. He knew it wouldn't be long before Sully went to prison in New York. And now he was facing the same thing.

Seth took two tranquilizers as soon as he walked in, and poured himself half a glass of scotch. He took a long swig, and looked at Sarah. He couldn't stand seeing the anguish in her eyes.

“I'm sorry, baby,” he said between swallows of scotch. He didn't put his arms around her, or comfort her. He was thinking of himself. Apparently, he always had.

“So am I, Seth. Are you going to be okay here tonight? Do you want me to stay?” She didn't want to, but she would have for him, particularly the way he was drinking and taking pills. He was liable to kill himself without even trying. He needed someone there with him after the impact of the verdict, and if it had to be her, she was willing to do it for him. He was her husband and the father of her children, after all, although he seemed to have very little understanding of what this was doing to her. He was the one going to prison, as far as he was concerned, not his wife. But she was already in prison now, thanks to him, and had been since their life had imploded the night of the earthquake in May, eleven months before.

“I'll be fine. I'm going to get fucking drunk. Maybe I'll stay drunk for the next month, until that asshole sends me to the slammer for a hundred years, thirty days from now.” It wasn't the judge's fault, it was Seth's. Sarah was clear on the concept, but he wasn't. “Why don't you go back to your place, Sarah? I'll be okay.” He didn't sound convincing, and she was worried. It was all about him, it always was. But he was right in the sense that he was going to prison and she wasn't. He had a right to be upset, even if he'd done it to himself. She could still walk away from what had happened. He couldn't. And a month from now, his life as he had known it until then would be over. Hers already was. He didn't bring up divorce that night with her. He couldn't have handled hearing it from her, nor could she have said the words to him. She hadn't formed the decision or the words in her mind yet.

The subject came up finally a week later, when he dropped the children off, after a visit. He had only taken them out for a few hours. He couldn't handle more than that right now. He was too stressed, and he was looking very rough. She was looking frighteningly thin. Her clothes were hanging off her now, and her features had gotten sharp. Karen Johnson at the hospital kept saying she should have a checkup. But Sarah knew that there was no mystery to what was happening to her. Their life had fallen apart, and her husband was going to prison for a long time. They had lost everything, and would soon lose what was left. She had no one to rely on now except herself. It was as simple as that.

When Seth dropped the children off, he looked at her, with a question in his eyes. “Should we be talking about what we're going to do about our marriage? I think I'd like to know before I go to jail. And if we're going to stay together, maybe we should spend these last few weeks living together. It may be a long time before we can do that again.” He knew she wanted another baby, but she couldn't think about that now. She had given up the idea as soon as his criminal activities had surfaced. The last thing she wanted now was to get pregnant, although she wanted another baby, but not with him, and not now. That told her a lot. And what he was suggesting to her, about their moving in together for the next three weeks, upset her too. She couldn't see herself living with him again, making love with him, getting even more attached to him than she already was, and then having him leave her to go to prison. She couldn't do it. It had to be faced, and he was right, maybe now instead of later.

“I can't do that, Seth,” she said in an agonized voice, after the children went upstairs with Parmani for a bath. She didn't want them to hear what she was saying to their father. She didn't want them to remember that one day. They would have to know what had happened when they were old enough, but surely not now, and not later in an ugly way. “I just can't …I can't come back. I want to more than anything. I wish we could turn back the clock, but I don't think we can. I still love you, and I probably always will, but I don't think I could ever trust you again.” It was painful, but brutally honest. He stood rooted to the spot, looking at her, wanting her words to be different. He needed her, particularly when he'd go away.

“I understand.” He nodded, and then thought of something. “Would it have been different if I'd been acquitted?” Silently, she shook her head. She couldn't come back to him. She had suspected it for months, and had finally faced it herself in the last days of the trial, before the verdict. She just didn't have the heart to tell him, or even admit it to herself. But now she had no other choice. It had to be said, so they each knew where they stood. “I guess under those circumstances, it was nice of you to stand by me at the trial.” His lawyers had asked her to, for appearance's sake, but she would have done it anyway, out of love for him. “I'll call and start proceedings for divorce,” he said, looking devastated, and she nodded, with tears heavy in her eyes. It was one of the worst moments of her life, matched only by when their preemie baby nearly died, and the morning after the earthquake, when he had told her what he'd done. Their house of cards had been falling ever since, and it was flat on the ground now.

“I'm sorry, Seth.” He nodded, said not a word, turned, and left her apartment. It was done.

Sarah called Maggie and told her a few days later, and the little nun told her how sorry she was.

“I know how hard that decision was for you,” she said in a voice filled with compassion. “Have you forgiven him, Sarah?”

There was a long pause as Sarah searched her heart and was honest with her. “No, I haven't.”

“I hope you will someday. It doesn't mean you have to take him back.”

“I know.” She understood that now.

“It would free you both. You don't want to carry this forever, like a cement block on your heart.”

“I will anyway,” Sarah said sadly.

The sentencing was an anticlimax after the verdict at the trial. Seth had given up his apartment and was staying at the Ritz-Carlton for the last few nights. He had explained what was happening to his children, that he was going away for a while. Molly had cried, but he had promised she could visit, which seemed to reassure her. She was only four, and she didn't really understand. How could she? The concept was hard for all the grown-ups involved too. He had made arrangements with the bail bondsman to return the money to the bank, where it would be held in escrow for future lawsuits against him from investors, and a small portion was going to Sarah to help support herself and the children, but it wouldn't last long. Eventually, she'd have to rely only on her job, or her parents to do what they could for her, and it wouldn't be much. They were retired and lived on a fixed income. She might even have to live with them for a while, if she ran out of cash, and couldn't live on her salary. Seth was sorry, but he couldn't do better than that for her. He sold his new Porsche and somewhat grandly gave her the money. Every little bit helped, and he put his belongings in storage and said he'd figure out what to do with them later. Sarah had promised to do whatever his lawyers couldn't do for him. And the week of his sentencing, he had started proceedings for their divorce. It would be final in six months. Sarah cried when she got the notification, but she couldn't imagine staying married to him now. She didn't feel as though there was a choice.

The judge had investigated Seth's financial situation, and imposed a two-million-dollar fine on him, which would wipe him out, after the sale of everything he still had left. And a fifteen-year prison sentence, three years for each of the five charges he was convicted of. It was stiff, but it wasn't thirty. A muscle in Seth's jaw tightened as he listened, but he had been prepared for the bad news this time. The last time, waiting for the verdict, he had hope that a miracle would happen to let him off. He wasn't waiting for a miracle at the sentencing. And he realized, as he heard his sentence, that Sarah was right to want a divorce. If he served his full sentence, he would be out when he was fifty-three years old, and Sarah fifty-one. They were thirtyeight and thirty-six respectively now. It was a long time to wait for anyone. He might get out in twelve, if he was lucky. But even then, it was a long time. She'd be forty-eight years old, a very long time not to have her husband at her side. And Molly was going to be nineteen years old when he got out, Oliver seventeen. That really brought the point home to him that Sarah was right.

He was led out of the courtroom in handcuffs, as Sarah burst into a sob. He would be transferred to a federal prison in the next few days. His lawyers had asked for a minimum security facility, which was under consideration, and Sarah had promised to visit as soon as he got there, in spite of the divorce. She had no intention of shutting him out, she just couldn't be his wife anymore.

He turned to look at her once as he was led away, and just before they put the cuffs on him, he tossed her his wedding band. He had forgotten to take it off that morning, and leave it with the gold watch he had put in his suitcase and asked to have delivered to her house. He had told her to give the clothes away and save the watch for Ollie. The whole thing was ghastly, and she stood there holding his wedding ring, and sobbed. Everett led her out of the courtroom with Maggie, they took her home, and put her to bed.

Chapter 22

Maggie flew to L.A. on the Memorial Day weekend, after Seth's sentencing, for Melanie's next concert. She tried to get Sarah to come with her, but she wouldn't. She was taking the children to visit Seth in his new home in prison. It was the first time they were going to see him since he'd left, and she realized it would be a shock and adjustment for them all.

Everett had asked Maggie several times how she thought Sarah was doing, and she said technically all right. She was functioning, going to work, taking care of her children, but she was understandably terribly depressed. It was going to take time, maybe even a lot of time, for her to recover from what had happened. Hiroshima had happened to her life, and her marriage. The divorce was proceeding as planned.

Everett picked Maggie up at the airport, and took her to the small hotel where she was staying. She had an appointment with Father Callaghan that afternoon and said she hadn't seen him in ages. The concert wasn't until the next day. Everett dropped her off and left her to do a story he'd been assigned to. His coverage of the trial had been so impressive that he'd just had an offer to work for Time, and the AP wanted him back again. He'd been in recovery for two years now, and he felt solid as a rock. He had given Maggie his two-year chip to keep with the first one he'd given her, for luck. She cherished both and kept them on her at all times.

They had dinner with Melanie, Tom, and Janet that night. Melanie and Tom said that they had just celebrated their first-year anniversary, and Janet seemed more relaxed than Maggie had expected. She had met a man and was having fun with him. He was in the music business, and they had a lot in common. And she seemed to have adjusted to Melanie making her own decisions, although Everett would never have thought it possible. Melanie was turning twenty-one, and had come into her own in the past year.

She was going on a short concert tour that summer, four weeks instead of nine or ten, only to major cities. Tom had taken two weeks off to go with her. And Melanie had signed up with Father Callaghan to go back to Mexico in September, although she planned to stay only a month this time. She didn't want to be away from Tom for too long. The young couple beamed and looked happy, and Everett snapped a bunch of pictures at dinner, including one of Melanie and her mother, and another of Melanie with Maggie. She credited Maggie with changing her life and helping her to grow up and be who she wanted, although she said it out of earshot of her mother. The anniversary of the San Francisco earthquake had come and gone earlier in May. It was an event they all remembered with terror and fondness. Good things had come of it for all of them, but the trauma they had experienced had not been forgotten either. Maggie commented that the Smallest Angels Ball had taken place again this year, but Sarah didn't run it or attend. She had been too involved with Seth's legal proceedings, and Maggie hoped Sarah would do it again the following year. They all agreed that it had been a beautiful event until the earthquake hit.

Everett and Maggie stayed later than usual at the dinner at Melanie's house. It was relaxed and fun, and Everett and Tom played pool afterward. Tom told Everett that he and Melanie were thinking of moving in together. It was a little awkward with her still living with her mother, and even though Janet had mellowed a little, she was certainly no angel. She drank way too much that night, and despite the fact that she had a boyfriend now, Everett sensed that she would have made a pass at him if Maggie hadn't been there. He could see easily why Tom and Melanie wanted their own place. It was time for Janet to grow up too and go into the world on her own, without hiding behind Melanie's skirts and fame. It was a growing time for them all.

Everett and Maggie chatted easily on the way back to her hotel, and as always he loved being with her. They talked about the young couple, and were happy for them. And by the time they got to Maggie's motel, she was yawning and half asleep. He kissed her gently and walked her to her door with his arm around her.

“How was your meeting with Father Callaghan, by the way?” He had forgotten to ask her, and he liked to keep abreast of all her doings every day. “I hope you're not going to Mexico too,” he teased her, and she shook her head, yawning again.

“No. I'm going to work for him here,” she said sleepily, and cuddled up against Everett before she went in.

“Here? In L.A.?” He was confused. “Do you mean San Francisco?”

“No, I mean here. He needs someone to run the mission here while he's in Mexico, for four to six months every year. I can figure out what I'm doing after that, or he might keep me on, if I do a good job.”

“Wait a minute.” Everett stared at her. “Explain this to me. You're taking a job in L.A. for four to six months? What did the diocese say, or have you told them yet?” He knew they were fairly liberal about letting her work in the field wherever she chose.

“Hmmm …I did…,” she said, putting her arms around his waist. Everett still looked confused.

“And they're willing to let you come and work down here?” He was smiling. He loved the idea, and he could see that she did too. “That's amazing. I didn't think they were that cool, to let you wander off to another city like that.”

“They don't have any say in it anymore,” she said quietly, as he looked into her eyes.

“What are you saying, Maggie?”

She took a deep breath and held him tightly. It had been the hardest thing she'd ever done. She hadn't talked to anyone outside the Church about it, not even him. It had been a choice she had to make herself, without pressure from him. “I was released from my vows two days ago. I didn't want to say anything until I was here.”

“Maggie! … Maggie? …You're not a nun anymore?” He stared at her in disbelief, and she shook her head sadly, fighting back tears.

“No, I'm not. I don't know what I am anymore. I'm having an identity crisis. I called Father Callaghan about the job, so I can come down here and work, if you want me. Other than that, I don't know what I'd do.” She laughed through her tears then. “And I'm the oldest virgin on the planet.”

“Oh Maggie, I love you … oh my God, you're free!” She nodded, and he kissed her. They didn't have to feel guilty anymore. They would be able to explore everything they felt for each other. They could marry and have kids. She could be his wife if they wanted, or not if they preferred. Now all the choices were theirs. “Thank you, Maggie,” he said profoundly. “Thank you with all my heart. I didn't think you'd be able to do it, and I didn't want to push you, but I've been worrying myself sick over it for months.”

“I know. Me too. I wanted to do it right. It was a hard thing to do.”

“I know,” he said, and kissed her again. He still didn't want to rush her. He knew it would be a tremendous adjustment for her to no longer be a nun. She had been in religious orders for twenty-one years, almost half her life. But he couldn't help thinking of the future. The best part was that their future was now. “When can you move down?”

“Whenever you want. The lease on my apartment is month by month.”

“Tomorrow,” he said, looking ecstatic. He couldn't wait to get home and call his sponsor. His sponsor had been suggesting he look into CODA, a twelve-step group for codependent people, since he thought Everett was hooked on her unavailability. How much more unavailable did it get than a nun? And now the nun was his! “I'll help you move next week, if you want.” She laughed.

“I probably don't have two suitcases of stuff, and besides where would I live?” She hadn't made any arrangements yet, it was all so fresh. She had been out of religious orders for two days, and only got a job that afternoon. She hadn't had time to think about an apartment yet.

“Would you be willing to live with me?” he asked cautiously, still standing outside her hotel room. It was turning into the best night of his life, and surely hers. But she shook her head in answer to his question. There were some things she was not willing to do.

“Not unless we're married,” she said quietly. She didn't want to pressure him. But she didn't want to live with a man out of wedlock. It went against the grain of everything she believed, and was way too modern for her. She had only been out in the world, officially, for two days, and she was by no means ready to agree to live in sin with him, no matter how happy she was.

“That can be arranged,” he said, grinning. “I was just waiting for you to get free. Wow, Maggie, will you marry me?” He had wanted to do it more elegantly, but just couldn't wait. They had already waited so long for her to make a decision and get free.

She nodded, beaming, and said the word he had waited to hear for so long. “Yes.” He spun her around in his arms, kissed her, and set her down. They talked for a few more minutes, and then she walked into her room smiling, and he left, promising to call her first thing in the morning, or maybe even when he got home. Their whole life was beginning. He had never thought she'd do it. It was even more amazing to think that an earthquake had brought them together. She was such a brave woman. He knew he'd be grateful forever that Maggie would be his.

The concert the next day was fantastic. Melanie did an incredible job. Maggie had never before seen her in a major concert, only at the benefit, which was a much smaller venue. Everett had told her about Melanie's concerts, and she had all of her CDs. Melanie had sent them to her after the earthquake, but she still wasn't prepared for the incredible experience of seeing her onstage and hearing her sing in such a big space. She was bowled over by it, and it was a particularly good performance. Maggie sat in the front row with Tom, while Everett did his job for Scoop. He had decided to take the job at Time magazine, but he still had to give Scoop notice. Suddenly, everything was changing in his life, and remarkably it was all good.

Maggie and Everett had dinner with Tom and Melanie after the performance, and Everett urged Maggie to share their big news. Maggie looked shy about it at first, and then she told them that she and Everett were getting married. They hadn't set a date yet, but had been making plans all afternoon. Maggie couldn't see herself having a big wedding, or even a small one. She had suggested they be married quietly by Father Callaghan, as soon as she moved to L.A. As an exnun, it didn't feel right to her to make a big fuss of it. She was too old for a big white dress, she said, and the day she had taken final vows felt like a first wedding to her. The important thing was that they were getting married, and how and when they did it seemed a lot less important to her. It was the ultimate symbol of her bond to Everett, and a sacred union. All she needed there, she said, was her husband, the God she had served all her life, and a priest.

Tom and Melanie were thrilled for them, although Melanie looked completely stunned.

“You're not a nun anymore?” Her eyes were wide, and for a moment she thought they were kidding, and then realized they weren't. “Wow! What happened?” She had never even suspected that there was something between them, but now she could see it. She could also see how happy they were, how proud Everett was, and how peaceful Maggie looked. She had achieved what she always talked about, with the challenging decision, a state of grace where what they were doing felt right to her, and infinitely blessed. It was a new chapter in her life. The old one was slowly closing. She looked at Everett, while Tom poured champagne for himself, Melanie, and Maggie. Everett smiled at her with a smile that lit Maggie's world, as nothing and no one else could have.

“Here's to the San Francisco earthquake!” Tom said, holding his glass aloft to toast the happy couple. It had brought him to Melanie, and apparently had done the same for others. Some had won. Some had lost. Some had lost their lives. Others had moved away. Their lives had been shaken up, infinitely blessed, and forever changed.

Chapter 23

It took Maggie two weeks to wrap up her life in San Francisco. By then, Everett had given notice at Scoop, and was starting at the L.A. bureau of Time in late June. He was planning to take two weeks off between the two jobs to spend with Maggie. Father Callaghan had agreed to marry them the day after she arrived, and Maggie had called her family to tell them. Her ex-priest brother had been particularly pleased for her and wished her well.

She bought a simple white silk suit for the occasion, with ivory satin high heels. It was a far cry from her old habit, and the beginning of a new life for both of them.

Everett was planning to take her to La Jolla for their honeymoon, to a little hotel he knew well, and they could take long walks on the beach. She would start work for Father Callaghan in July, and had six weeks to train with him before he left for Mexico in mid-August. He was leaving earlier than usual this year, since he knew his L.A. mission would be in good hands. Maggie could hardly wait to begin. Everything in her life was so exciting now. A wedding, a move, a new job, a whole new life. It had come as a shock to her to realize that she had to use her own name now. Mary Magdalen was the name she had taken when she entered the convent. She had been Mary Margaret for her entire life before that. Everett said he would forever call her Maggie. It was how he thought of her, how he had come to know her, and who she was to him now. They both agreed that it suited her, and she had also decided to keep the name. The new name she was acquiring was Carson. Mrs. Everett Carson. She rolled it around on her tongue as she packed her bags and looked around the studio for the last time. It had served her well during her years in the Tenderloin. Those days were over now. She had packed the crucifix in her single bag. The rest she had given away.

She handed her keys to the landlord, wished him well, and said goodbye to the familiar people lingering in the hallways. The transvestite she had grown fond of waved as she got into the cab. Two of the prostitutes who knew her had seen her carrying her suitcase, and waved too as she drove by. She hadn't told anyone she was leaving, or why, but it was as though they knew she wouldn't be back. She said a prayer for them as she left.

Her flight to L.A. was on time, and Everett met her at the airport. For a moment, he had his heart in his mouth. What if she changed her mind? And then he saw Maggie, a tiny woman in blue jeans, with bright red hair, wearing pink high-top sneakers and a white T-shirt that said “I love Jesus” coming toward him with an irresistible smile. This was the woman he had waited a lifetime for. He had been lucky enough to find her, and she looked as though she felt just as lucky as she tucked herself into his arm. He took her suitcase from her, and they walked away. Tomorrow was their wedding day.

The prison Seth had been sent to was a minimum security facility in northern California, and conditions there had been reported to be good. It had a forestry camp attached to it, and the inmates there served as rangers, overseeing the safety of the area, and fighting forest fires when they occurred. Seth was hoping to make it to the forestry camp soon.

In the meantime, he had been given a single cell, after his attorneys had pulled some strings. He was comfortable, and wasn't in any great danger. The other inmates were there for white-collar crimes. In fact, most of them had committed crimes similar to his, on a much smaller scale. If anything, he was considered a hero among the men. There were conjugal visits for those of them who were married, they were allowed to have packages, and the Wall Street Journal was widely read by most of the inmates. It was called the country club of federal prisons, but a prison was nonetheless what it was. He missed his freedom, his wife, and his children. He wasn't sorry for what he'd done, but he was desperately sorry he had gotten caught.

Sarah had come to see him with the children in the first institution he'd been in, in Dublin, southeast of Oakland, while he was being processed. It had been uncomfortable, frightening, and a shock for all of them. Visiting him in prison now was more like visiting a hospital or a bad hotel in the forest. There was a small town attached to it where Sarah and the children could stay. Sarah could have had conjugal visits with him, as their divorce wasn't final yet, but as far as she was concerned the marriage was over, and he regretted that too, as much as the sorrow he'd caused her. He had seen it so clearly in her eyes the last time she visited him with their children, two months before. This was the first time he was seeing them that summer. It wasn't an easy place to get to, and they had been away. Sarah and the children had been in Bermuda with her parents since June.

He was nervous as he waited for them on a hot August morning. He pressed his khaki pants and shirt, and shined his regulation brown leather shoes. Among all the other things he missed, he missed his custom-made British shoes.

When visiting time came, he wandered down to the grassy area at the front of the camp. Inmates’ children played there, while husbands and wives talked, kissed, and held hands. And then, as he watched the road intently, he saw them drive up. Sarah parked the car, and took a picnic basket out of the back. Visitors were allowed to bring food. Oliver was walking along beside her, holding on to her skirt with a cautious look, and Molly bounced along with a doll under her arm. For a moment, he felt tears sting his eyes, and then Sarah saw him. She waved, walked through the checkpoint, where they searched the basket she'd brought, and then all three of them were allowed inside. She was smiling at him as they approached him. He could see that she had put on a little weight, and looked less gaunt than she had before the summer, after the trial. Molly rushed into his arms, and Oliver hung back for a minute and then approached him with a little bit of caution. And then Seth met Sarah's eyes. She kissed him lightly on the cheek and set down the basket, as their children ran around them.

“You look good, Sarah.”

“So do you, Seth,” she said, feeling awkward at first. It had been a while and so much had changed. He e-mailed her from time to time, and she answered him, telling him about the kids. He would have liked to say more to her, but no longer dared. She had set boundaries he had no choice but to respect. He didn't tell her that he missed her, although he did. And she didn't tell him how hard it still was for her without him. There was no longer room for that in what they shared. The anger had gone out of it for her, and all that was left was sadness, but there was also a kind of peace, as she started to move on with her life. There was nothing left to reproach him about, or regret. It had happened. It was done. It was over. And for the rest of their lives they would share children, decisions about them, and memories of another time.

She served lunch for all of them on one of the picnic tables. Seth carried chairs over, and both children took turns sitting on his lap. She had brought delicious sandwiches from a local deli, fruit, and the cheesecake she knew Seth liked. She had even thought to bring him his favorite chocolates and a cigar.

“Thank you, Sarah. The lunch was delicious.” He sat back, smoking the cigar, as the children ran off. She could see that he was doing well, and had adjusted to the turn of fate that had landed him there. He seemed to accept it now, particularly after Henry Jacobs had confirmed that there were no grounds for an appeal. The trial had been run correctly, and the proceedings had been clean. Seth didn't seem bitter, and neither did she. “Thanks for bringing the kids.”

“Molly starts school in two weeks. And I have to get back to work.” He didn't know what to say to her. He wanted to tell her he was sorry he had lost their house, that her jewelry was gone, that everything they'd built and shared had disappeared, but he couldn't find the words. Instead, they sat there together, watching their children. She filled the awkward silences with news of her family, and he told her about prison routine. It wasn't impersonal so much as different. There were things they couldn't say anymore, and never would again. He knew she loved him, the lunch she'd brought had told him that, the loving way she'd prepared it in the picnic basket, the way she had brought their children to him. And she knew he still loved her. One day even that would be different, but for now it was the left-over glue of a bond they had shared that would crumble and alter over time, but for now much of it was still there. Until something or someone else replaced it, until the memories got too old or the time too long. He was the father of her children, the man she had married and loved. That would never change.

She and the children stayed until the end of visiting time. A whistle blew to warn them that the end of their time together was coming. It told them to pack up their things, and throw their leftovers away. She put the remains of their lunch and the red-checked napkins in the picnic basket. She had brought things from home to make it as festive as she could.

She rounded up the children and told them they were going. Oliver made a sad face when she told him to say goodbye to Daddy, and Molly threw her arms around his waist.

“I don't want to leave Daddy,” she said, looking unhappy. “I want to stay!” This was what he had condemned them to, but he knew that even that would alter over the years. Eventually, they'd be used to seeing him here and nowhere else.

“We'll come and visit him again soon,” Sarah said, waiting for Molly to let go of her father, and eventually she did. Seth walked them as close to the checkpoint as he was allowed to go, as other inmates did the same.

“Thanks again, Sarah,” he said in the familiar voice of seven years of history between them. “Take care of yourself.”

“I will. You too.” She started to say something to him then, and hesitated, as the children moved away. “I love you, Seth. I hope you know that. I'm not angry at you anymore. I'm just sad for you, and for us. But I'm okay.” She wanted him to know that, that he didn't need to worry about her or feel guilty. He could regret whatever he wanted to, but over the summer she had realized that she was going to be all right. This was the hand fate had dealt her, and it was the one she was going to play, without looking back, or hating him, or even wishing things were different. She knew now that they could never be. Even if she hadn't understood what was happening, it had been happening anyway. It had only been a matter of time before it came out in the light of day. She fully understood that now. He had never been the man she thought he was.

“Thanks, Sarah … for not hating me for what I did.” He didn't try to explain it to her. He had already tried, and knew she would never understand. Everything that had gone through his mind at the time was completely foreign to who she was.

“It's okay, Seth. It happened. We're lucky to have the kids.” She was still sorry not to have another baby, but maybe she would one day. Her destiny was in hands other than hers. It was what Maggie said when she called to tell her she had gotten married. And as Sarah thought of her, she turned to Seth and smiled. She hadn't realized it before, but without even trying to, she had forgiven him. A millionpound weight had lifted from her heart and shoulders. Without even willing it away, it was gone.

He watched as they went through the exit gate, and walked into the parking lot again. The children waved, and Sarah turned back once to smile and gave him a long look. He waved as they drove away, and walked slowly back to his cell, thinking of them. They were the family he had sacrificed, and ultimately thrown away.

As Sarah drove around a bend in the road, and the prison vanished behind her, she looked at her children, smiled to herself, and realized it had happened. She didn't know how or when, but she had gotten there somehow. It was what Maggie had referred to so often and Sarah could never find. She had found it, it had found her, and she felt so light she could fly. She had forgiven Seth, and achieved the state of grace that at first she couldn't even imagine. It was a moment of pure perfection frozen in time forever … amazing grace!

AMAZING GRACE

A Delacorte Press Book

November 2007

Published by Bantam Dell

A Division of Random House, Inc.

New York, New York

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved

Copyright © 2007 by Danielle Steel

Delacorte Press is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc.,

and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

Steel, Danielle.

a cognizant original v5 release november 13 2010

Amazing Grace / Danielle Steel.

p. cm.

eISBN: 978-0-307-56633-1

1. Earthquakes—Fiction. 2. Survival after airplane accidents, shipwrecks, etc.—Fiction. 3. Life change events—Fiction. 4. San Francisco (Calif.)—Fiction. I. Title.

PS3569.T33828A43 2007

813'.54—dc22 2007007523

v3.0

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23