Maggie's Turn (28 page)
Authors: Deanna Lynn Sletten
Andrew walked over to where Maggie stood and draped his arm around her waist. "Amazing, isn't it? This town can really come together and support one of its own when it wants to."
Maggie looked over to the corner of the room where Andrew's mother was standing in the center of a group of older women. Her lips were pursed tightly, and there was a sour expression on her face. "What about your mother? She doesn't look very happy to be here."
Andrew's face broke out in a smile. He bent his head low toward Maggie so only she could hear. "I don't think she's very happy at how successful your shop is, but her friends all love it, so she has to pretend she does, too."
Maggie laughed along with Andrew. He looked relaxed and happy, and for that, she was thankful. As promised, he'd resigned from most of the committees he'd volunteered for, and surprisingly enough, when it came time to nominate someone to run for mayor, many of his former committee colleagues had asked him to run. Andrew had been ready to decline their offer, but it was Maggie who had asked him to reconsider it. After much thought, he finally realized that becoming mayor was something he thought he'd like to do, so he was now in the midst of running for the elected office. Maggie didn't mind. She wanted him to be as happy as she was with her shop. Over the past few months, Andrew had immersed himself into the family. He now helped her when she cooked dinner and even did a load or two of laundry each week. On weekends, he was right there when she and Kaia went bowling or to the arcade. Surprisingly, he and Kaia joined a Sunday afternoon family bowling league and had a blast competing against the other teams. Kyle, and sometimes Ashley, joined in on the fun whenever they could, and dinnertime had once again become family time. Maggie could tell that Andrew was no longer just trying to be part of the family—he was enjoying it as he had years ago.
As a couple, they were healing as well. It took time, but the trust grew as the weeks and months passed, and they were slowly becoming exactly as Andrew had hoped—like the happy couple they once were before. Older, yes, no longer naive about the ups and downs of marriage, definitely, but they were finding their way back to happiness.
Maggie stood one last moment, surveying her new shop. The photos on the wall reminded her again of her trip last fall, and of the people she'd met. She'd kept in touch with Robert "Wild Bill" Prescott as well as Bobbi, sending them a print of a photo she'd taken of each of them. Wild Bill told her he was going back to teach middle school in the fall, but he planned on using his acting talents and helping with the school plays. Bobbi was thriving in San Diego and had met a man with whom she was having a serious relationship. She told Maggie that she hoped she'd be inviting her to her wedding very soon. Maggie was happy for both of her new friends.
The one person she hadn't contacted was Rob. She heard about him through Cassie and was sure he heard what she was up to as well. But Maggie decided it was best to just let their friendship go. Her relationship with Andrew was stronger now, and she didn't want anything to get in the way of its healing. Rob would always be a sweet memory that she'd leave tucked away like a photo in a scrapbook.
As Maggie started to walk up to the counter to help Cassie and Kaia wrap and ring up purchases, a familiar song began playing on the radio on the overhead speakers in the shop. It was the song that had enticed her to run away, "Roll Me Away" by Bob Seger. Maggie smiled. She was no longer lost, no longer angry, and she finally knew her place in the world. It had taken a rock 'n' roll singer, miles of road, hundreds of photos, a gunslinger, a hairstylist, and a man in a vineyard to finally help her find her true self again. She sent up a silent thank you to all her new friends who had helped her find her way back, then made her way, smiling and chatting, through the crowd.
***
Author's Note
Maggie's Turn
is a work of fiction, and because of that, I created the fictional town of Woodroe, MN for this novel. Woodroe is a portrayal of a small, Minnesota town but does not reflect any one town in particular. All the characters portrayed in this novel are fictional. Well, except for Bob Seger, whose music was mentioned, who is a famous, talented, old time rock 'n' roller that all of us over the age of forty remember well. If you haven't had the pleasure of listening to Seger's music, then be sure to click on the link at the end of this book and check out his Greatest Hits Album, the one I mention in the story. I wanted so much to quote his songs throughout the novel, but was advised that may not be wise. So, I urge you to buy the CD and enjoy his music as much as I have throughout the years.
One final note. In Deadwood, SD, at Saloon #10, Wild Bill Hickok is shot daily. There is a gentleman who has been portraying Wild Bill there for many years, and does such a good job, that you forget he's not the real thing. My Wild Bill in this novel is not that talented gentleman. He is a product of my imagination to fit the story.
Novels by
Deanna Lynn Sletten
Music by Bob Seger
About the Author
Deanna Lynn Sletten writes women's fiction and romance novels that dig deeply into the lives of the characters, giving the reader an in-depth look into their hearts and souls. Deanna has also written one middle-grade novel that takes you on the adventure of a lifetime.
Deanna's romance novel,
Memories,
was a semifinalist in The Kindle Book Review's Best Indie Books of 2012. Her novel,
Sara's Promise,
was a semifinalist in The Kindle Book Review's Best Indie Books of 2013 and a finalist in the 2013 National Indie Excellence Book Awards.
Deanna is married and has two grown children. When not writing, she enjoys walking the wooded trails around her northern Minnesota home with her beautiful Australian Shepherd or relaxing in the boat on the lake in the summer.
Deanna loves hearing from her readers. Connect with her on:
Please enjoy the first two chapters of Deanna's romance novel
Sara's Promise
Chapter One
"Mom, you just don't understand." Fifteen-year-old Sandra Grafton sighed loudly as she pushed aside a stray strand of strawberry blonde hair that had escaped its ponytail. "Everyone, I mean
everyone
has one."
"Yes, dear, I do understand. But no, you still can't have one," Sara said calmly as she continued preparing dinner. It was past six and her husband was due home any minute from his office in Beaverton. She always tried to have dinner ready for him when he arrived, knowing how hungry he was after his long day of work and his commute between his office and their home in Seaside. She also hoped to have Sandy subdued before he walked through the door.
"You just don't want me to fit in. You want me to be shunned by all my friends," Sandy dramatically accused her mother. "You don't want me to be like everyone else."
Sara turned from the sink where she was filling a pan with water and stared at her teenaged daughter. She wore tight bell-bottomed jeans, platforms, and a form-fitting purple sweater with fringe hanging from the sleeves, along with the color of the day, purple, streaked in her blonde hair. Her face was covered with as much makeup as Sara would allow and from her ears hung long, gold mesh earrings suitable for evening wear only. She was as much a seventies throwback as any of the other teenagers Sara saw coming out of Seaside High School, so fitting in was not a problem. This much Sara would allow, for clothes could be changed and hair could be washed. But she had her limits.
"Not everyone has one, dear," Sara said calmly, returning to filling the pan. "Your friend Brittany doesn't."
"Brittany isn't cool and doesn't hang out with the right people. Do you want me to be uncool like her? Hanging out with the geeks of the school?"
Sara sighed as she headed to the stove and placed the pan of water on the burner. She wasn't agreeing or disagreeing with Sandy, she was just tired of this conversation. "Honey, why don't you let me finish in here? Then I'll make us each a nice mug of hot cocoa and we can talk this over calmly."
Sandy rolled her eyes. "Mom, I'm not three years old anymore. You can't talk me out of it with cocoa."
"Three large marshmallows, just how you like it," Sara said with a wink.
"Mother!"
"Why don't you give Mom a break?" Sammy interrupted as he entered the kitchen looking for a snack. At thirteen, Sammy was as tall as his older sister and slender too, growing so fast Sara could hardly keep him in pants or food. Today he had on tan Dockers that threatened to brush his ankles at any moment and a red polo shirt, clothes he wore when he played his favorite sport, golf. He was the lead player on the middle school team and there was already talk of him playing high school golf a year early. Right now though, he was in search of one thing, food.
"Shut up, club head," Sandy told him angrily. To her, golf was the stupidest game in the world. "This is none of your business."
Sammy shrugged and captured the last chocolate chip cookie from the cookie jar. Giving his mom an "I tried" look, he sauntered back into the living room.
"Sandy, don't call your brother names, and the answer is still no."
Sandy's blue eyes flashed. "I hate you. You're the meanest mother in the world." Turning on her heel, she clomped out of the kitchen and up the stairs, ending her dramatic departure by slamming her bedroom door.
"Why does she hate you today?" William Grafton entered the kitchen loosening his tie and slipping off his suit jacket. Kissing Sara lightly on the cheek, he gave her that knowing smile of a parent who'd walked in on this scene many times before.
"For the same reason she hated me yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. I can put up with purple hair and funky clothes, but I refuse to let her pierce her nose," Sara said lightly. She rarely got angry, especially when it concerned the children. She had an easy way of handling everyone and everything, making it appear she was a pushover, yet usually quietly getting her way in the end.
William smiled at his wife's calm demeanor. In their seventeen years of marriage, he couldn't remember ever seeing her blood-boiling mad, a complete opposite of their daughter who seemed to always be in a rage.
"So, how was your day?" she asked as she started cutting carrots.
"Better than yours I bet," he told her with a mischievous smirk.
Sara stared over at him and rolled her eyes, acknowledging that being with the kids wasn't always easy. She continued watching her husband, appreciating his tousled dark hair and animated brown eyes as he told her about the new house plans he was drawing up for a client. She knew there was much more to tell but he rarely spoke of the larger projects the firm was working on or bidding for. Designing homes was his passion, imaginative and personal spaces like the home he'd built for them here in Seaside. The other projects brought in the big money, but she knew the homes brought him the most personal satisfaction.
The rest of the evening went as it usually did with the family of four eating their evening meal, Sandy sulking in her seat and Sammy discussing his latest golf swing. Later, Sammy left with a friend to hit balls at the driving range before dark and William headed to his den to work on the house plans he'd been discussing earlier. Sandy flew off to her room again after another refusal from her mom to let her pierce her nose, playing her music at an ear-deafening volume and no doubt calling her best friend to rant about the unfairness of evil mothers.
Sara went through her usual routine of cleaning up the evening dishes and wiping down the kitchen to sparkling perfection. She wandered through the house, picking up stray items the kids had left out. She fluffed sofa pillows, folded towels in the laundry room and made sure all was tidy and in its place. Only after she felt everything was perfect did she let herself sit and relax on the deck outside the living room, a cup of herbal tea to keep her company and the view of the Pacific Ocean to calm her.
It had been a perfect March day on the Oregon coast, and even though the air was chilly, it felt good to Sara as she sipped her tea and reflected upon her day. Like all of her days, today had been a busy one, running the kids to and from school, running errands and doing housework. Her days were filled from early morning until late evening, yet sometimes she wondered what she'd accomplished after a long day. Once a week, she volunteered at the middle school library, helping sort and reshelve books. Then there was the local community art center, where she volunteered her time typing up their monthly newsletter, reporting the accomplishments of local artists and writers, and offering information on workshops and grant funds. She didn't attend the workshops. She didn't sell paintings or win contests. She only reported other artists' accomplishments. And sometimes, in a quiet moment like this, she wondered about her life and where she was headed, if anywhere. But then all she had to do was look around her beautiful home, see the smile on her son's flushed face as he recounted his latest golf achievement, or occasionally capture a giggle from her fast-maturing daughter to remember what her life was all about and to remind her it was all worth it.
