There was not even a flicker of impatience on Dr. Camas’s face. “Having lied about the baby for the past eight years. How do you feel?”
For an instant, Maggie wanted to scream at the doctor. How did she feel about it? Couldn’t he see for himself? It had driven a wedge between her and Ben almost from the beginning of their marriage. Not a day passed when she didn’t think about the daughter she had given away. And when they had been unable to have children, she was certain God was punishing her for trading a precious baby for a life of lies.
Adoption in and of itself was a good thing, Maggie knew. For many women it was a beautiful choice indeed. But not for her. Her reasons had been entirely self-centered, rooted in the soil of desire for a man who would not have wanted to share his life with her if he’d known the truth. So she lied and lost her daughter in the process.
All for selfish reasons.
How did she feel about it? “It’s making me crazy. I hate Ben. I hate myself. I don’t know what to think anymore.”
Dr. Camas jotted something down on the clipboard in front of him and smiled softly at Maggie. “I think you’re ready for the next step.”
“Next step?” Maggie didn’t want a next step. She wanted to keep meeting with Dr. Camas and going over her life. Searching for some reasonable explanation that would shed light on the choices she’d made and the desperate darkness attempting to consume her.
“Yes. Starting tomorrow we’ll be adding group therapy to your daily program. You’ll still meet with me; this will be in addition. Group therapy generally is where the most healing takes place. You’ll be meeting with a group of people who have situations similar to yours.”
Maggie’s heart rate doubled. “Meaning what?”
Dr. Camas rested his forearms on his desk and angled his head in a gesture that reminded Maggie of her father. “Everyone in your group is here because of anger issues and severe depression.”
He had to be kidding. “I’m not ready for that. I can’t sit in a group and—”
“Maggie…” His voice was quiet, calm. He reached out and clasped his hand around hers, and although a great deal of fear and darkness remained, she felt the fight leave her. “Maggie, you’re ready.”
Her shoulders slumped forward, and she let her head fall as tears formed and spilled onto her lap. She didn’t want to share her life with anyone else, especially with people who had troubles of their own. What if they recognized her? What if she forgot who she was or what she was saying and what if everyone in the group suddenly became blond, blue-eyed little girls looking for their mamas? “I can’t…”
Dr. Camas waited until Maggie dried her eyes and met his gaze. “You can. Here’s what will happen…”
They spoke several more minutes, Maggie asking questions about the group while she tried to calm her pounding heart. What if it wasn’t time yet? There would be nowhere for her to run in a group setting. If he forced her to attend, she would refuse to speak, acting only as a silent observer. Nothing more.
By the time she stood to leave, she was so filled with panic her knees were knocking. She made her way to the door and as she set off down the hallway for her bedroom, she was filled with an overwhelming sense of doom.
Dr. Camas was wrong.
She would never be ready to bare her soul to a group of strangers. Much less tell them the truth. Even if her fight against the demons of depression or darkness or whatever it was lasted a lifetime.
Fifteen
WHEN BEN STOVALL REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS IN A HOSPITAL BED at Cleveland General, his head swathed in gauze wrap, his entire body pulsating with a pain already dulled by medication, he was overwhelmed by two realizations—both of which rocked the foundations of his world.
First, he was alive. He was breathing; he could move each of his limbs; and he was thinking clearly enough to recognize both facts. Without a doubt he had been spared by God Almighty Himself.
The second realization was even stronger.
The events that had put Maggie in a psychiatric hospital and landed him near death in this one had come together in his head to form an undeniable sense, a deep and unfathomable longing that defied description. He was swept up in a protective feeling, one that made him want to swim oceans or leap mountains, whatever it took to get to Maggie.
He was in love.
Back when everything about his marriage came easily he had expected her devotion as absolutely as he expected morning. Now, with Maggie refusing his visits and phone calls—with their marriage hanging in the balance—he was madly, undeniably, head-over-heels in love with his wife. And determined to find a way to reach her.
What John McFadden had said wasn’t true; it couldn’t be. Maggie never would have slept with that…that man. She’d never gotten pregnant. And if she had been pregnant—if McFadden had raped her or forced her in some way—Maggie would have kept the baby Ben was sure of that. Children were priceless by Maggie’s standards. Certainly she would have felt comfortable enough at that age—what, twenty-two, twenty-three?—to tell Ben the truth. Rape was an awful thing, but it wouldn’t have been Maggie’s fault. Why would she have lied about such a thing?
The whole notion was ridiculous. She was a virgin when they were married; she had to be. Maggie was one of the most fine, upstanding women he knew. True, she was suffering from something terrible, something bigger than angry fan mail or failed attempts at pregnancy, something larger than anything she’d come up against before. But Maggie would never have given herself to a man like McFadden.
Still, in those first waking moments he realized that whatever was bothering Maggie it had to be worse than anything he’d previously guessed. He pictured her lifeless eyes and empty voice that last day, the day before she went to Orchards.
Whatever it is, honey, well work it out. I’ll take some time off work, spend more time letting you talk, hearing you.
He sighed.
Why had it taken all of this for him to realize the depth of feelings he held for Maggie? His love for her was greater than life itself; he needed her more than the air he breathed. Without a doubt, if he hadn’t been in the hospital—if somehow he could have walked out on his own volition, hailed a cab, and made his way to Orchards Psychiatric Hospital—he would have done so. He would have sought Maggie out, found her, and held her close so she would never again feel the need to lie to him about anything. So she would know exactly how he felt about her.
He gritted his teeth and tried to lift his arm over his head, but after a moment he let it drop again. Pain worked its way through every muscle in his body, seizing him in a vise grip. On his second try he found the strength to reach the telephone receiver. After getting the number from the operator again, he dialed the psychiatric hospital.
“Orchards, may I help you?”
This isn’t going to work. Hope leaked from Ben like air from a damaged tire. How can I get her to talk to me? “Uh, yes, Maggie Stovall please.”
The receptionist paused. “Who may I say is calling?”
Ben forced himself to think quickly. “Jay. From the Gazette.”
Seconds passed, and a phone began to ring. “Nurse’s desk, just a moment. Maggie will be here in a minute.”
Be here in a minute? She didn’t even have a phone in her room? How bad are you, Maggie? What happened to make you like this?
“Hello?”
Maggie’s voice took him by surprise. It had been over a week since he’d heard it. He basked in the sound.
“Maggie…it’s me.”
In the seconds that followed, Ben prayed she wouldn’t hang up. Her anger was the first thing he heard. “That’s a lousy thing to do, Ben.”
He hesitated. “Maggie, we need to talk.”
She drew several quick breaths, and Ben was struck by the nervousness in her voice. “No! There’s nothing to say. We’re finished. I told you in the note. I’ll call you when I’m out of here.” More quick breaths. “Now don’t call back. Please. I…I can’t take it, Ben.”
/> She hung up before he could respond.
Stunned, Ben remained motionless, the receiver still in his hand. The woman he had just spoken to sounded like a stranger. What’s happened to you, Maggie? He fought the urge to bolt from the room, the desperation to find a way to reach her and convince her she was wrong. Again only the intravenous tubing sewn into his arms held him in place.
Ben held his breath. The reality of the situation was becoming clear.
Whatever had happened in Maggie’s past, whatever parts of McFadden’s story were true or false, one thing was certain: Maggie wanted nothing to do with Ben. She wanted to be left alone. And in the coming months she planned—unbelievably—to divorce him and move on with her life. Alone.
Ben felt tears stinging at his eyes, and he blinked them back. Help me, Lord, there’s got to be a way to reach her.
You were saved for a purpose, My son. Follow Me.
Ben struggled to sit higher up in bed and allowed the reassuring holy whispers to wash over him. Somehow, even though his entire life had fallen apart in the past few weeks, God had a plan. God always had a plan for those who loved Him.
Ben tried to assess his injuries, but it wasn’t until the doctor came in an hour later that he understood how grave his condition had been.
The emergency team had infused him with two units of blood and by the time they got him on an operating table his heart had all but given up. In addition, his skull had been fractured, and they were even now watching for signs of a blood clot in his brain.
“You’re a lucky man, Mr. Stovall.” The doctor was wrapping a fresh piece of gauze around his head injury. “A few minutes later, and you wouldn’t have survived.”
Ben was barely listening. He had the overpowering sense that God wanted him to continue searching. That somewhere—even if it had nothing to do with the lies McFadden told—there was truth where Maggie was concerned.
Love in wisdom and truth…love covers a multitude of sins.
The thoughts were enough to make Ben jump out of bed. His doctor was rambling on about resting and taking it easy, but when the man got to the part about filing police charges, Ben began to listen again.
“Police charges?”
“Yes. Do you know for certain who beat you up?”
He nodded. He could see as clearly as if he were watching it again the strange activity taking place near the van, the dozens of boxes being loaded from it into the bar storeroom. “I know everything. His name, where he works. All of it.”
The doctor nodded. “How do you feel about filing charges?”
Love in wisdom and truth…
Ben frowned. How in the world did that Scripture fit his current situation? He inhaled slowly, grimacing at the pain in his ribs when he did so. He had no choice in this situation. Regardless of McFadden’s threats, Ben would pursue charges because it was the right thing to do. “I’ll do it. Whenever the officers are ready.”
“Very good. Now, why don’t you see if you can get some sleep.”
Alone in his room, Ben stared hesitantly at the phone. Should he call Madeline Johnson again? Did Maggie’s mother know more about her daughter’s past than she let on? Reaching out, he rummaged through his bedside table and found his wallet. In it was Madeline’s number and a calling card. In three minutes he had the woman on the line.
“You’re calling me from work?” Maggie’s mother sounded worried, and Ben was glad he’d left out the fact that he was in the hospital. “What sort of trouble is she in now?”
“Nothing new.” Ben glanced at his bandaged shoulder and cleared his throat. “I talked to John McFadden.”
A moment passed. “Was I right?”
Ben tried to shift positions and he winced. “Yes. He’s not a very nice guy.”
“He never was.”
A dozen questions fought for position. Why did Maggie date him if he was so rotten? “He said something…I’m sure it’s a lie. Still, I thought maybe there was something you might have missed—something that would help me understand Maggie’s situation better.”
There was a pause. “What did he say?” At the nervous edge to the woman’s voice, Ben shifted, suddenly uncomfortable.
“He told me…” Ben sighed. “He said Maggie got pregnant and that…that she gave the baby up for adoption.”
The silence on the other end was enough to make Ben’s heart skip a beat. “Mrs. Johnson?”
The shaky sound of shallow breathing filled the phone line. “That’s absolutely false. Maggie would never have…they broke up after only a few months.”
“So other than her semester in Israel, she was with you that whole year. I mean, she never left for a few months, nothing like that?” Ben was angry with himself for asking. Of course Maggie hadn’t left. Why would she? The conversation was pointless because everything John McFadden had said was a lie, and the fact that Ben even toyed with the idea was—
“Israel?”
Ben’s world tilted crazily “Yeah, Israel…you know, Maggie’s exchange program. Through the university?”
Another beat. “This isn’t making sense.”
His mind reeled, racing to understand the conversation. “What?”
Maggie’s mother inhaled sharply. “Why would she have told you that?” Her voice sounded tired, as though it were all too much for a woman her age. “Maggie didn’t study in Israel. She never spent a day outside the country.”
Ben’s head was spinning now. Was this the lie? Why on earth would she have told me she was leaving the country if she wasn’t?
It was as though the foundations upon which he’d built his life were crumbling, as though he were scrambling to stay on solid ground….
He tried to swallow. He almost knew the answer to his next question before he asked it. “She was home the whole time, is that what you’re saying?”
Madeline Johnson exhaled slowly. “No.” The air eased out again. “Maybe this is the lie Maggie’s running from.”
Ben felt his head begin to spin. What was she talking about? “I’m listening.” His heart stopped while he waited for her to continue.
“It was right after Maggie moved out of that apartment, the one she was sharing with those girls from—”
“Wait a minute.” His heart thudded into a nervous rhythm. Help me, God. What is this? “What apartment? How come I didn’t know about this?” Ben’s insides felt like a ball of yarn that was free-falling, unraveling too fast to do anything but stand helplessly by and watch. How had they lived all their lives together and never discussed this? Why hadn’t it come up sometime at a gathering with her family?
“Well…she did, Ben. She lived in an apartment with two friends from college. Girls that were wilder than she; girls her father and I didn’t approve of. She dated John during that time.” She sounded almost angry and he wondered if it were because she didn’t want to be saying these things, didn’t want to think about it all…
As if she wanted to run from this as badly as he did.
“She and John broke things off sometime that fall. A few months later—early spring maybe—Maggie went to stay with some friends near Cincinnati.”
A wave of nausea washed over Ben. Cincinnati? Why there? And more important, why hadn’t she ever told him about it? “I…I didn’t know.”
“Her father and I thought it would be a good thing. Maggie was still broken up about you and that girl you were seeing. We wanted distance between her and John…” The woman paused, her implied accusation hitting its mark. “She was gone three months or so, I’m not sure. She came back the beginning of summer. About the same time you began calling again.”
Ben’s mind raced, and he tried to ignore the pounding in his temples, the tearing pain behind one eye…was he getting a migraine headache? “Did you see her during that time? Visit her?”
“We were busy, involved in the lay leadership of our church. Maggie’s father was very much in demand, and I spent much of my time helping him.”
Ben wanted to rea
ch through the phone lines and shake her. They hadn’t seen Maggie once during that time? Not even one time? “Did you talk to her?”
“Of course.” Madeline Johnson snapped her answer. “We were in touch every week. She was living with her friend’s family and she seemed to be doing very well.” She sighed loudly. “Remember, she wouldn’t have been there at all if you hadn’t walked out on her the year before.”
Anger surged through Ben like volcanic lava. He forced it down beneath the service. “We can’t go back now. The only thing that matters anymore is Maggie, and whatever she went through that spring.”
Maggie’s mother seemed to concede that much because when she spoke again her voice was less defensive. “Are you thinking it’s possible…I mean, do you think it could be true?”
Ben closed his eyes and loosed the possibility that lay coiled like a deadly snake on the pathway of his mind. “Do I think she went to Cincinnati to have a baby?” Ben massaged his temples and blinked his eyes open once more. “I don’t know I can’t believe it, but…well, nothing’s adding up like it should.”
Madeline Johnson’s tone became lighter. “Wait a minute…” Ben could hear her rifling through something. “I may still have the phone number and address.”
Ben held his breath. Help her find it, Lord. This may be our only chance to learn the truth. “Here it is. Get a pencil.”
A pencil? That’s right, I’m supposed to be at work. Ben felt a stab of pain as he yanked on a drawer in the bureau next to him and found a hospital pen. Writing on a scrap of paper from his wallet, he jotted down the number Madeline Johnson read off.
“Their names are Nancy and Dan Taylor. Of course, they might have changed the number or moved by now.”
Ben exhaled slowly and reminded himself to breathe. He thanked Maggie’s mother and promised to call if he learned anything. Then he hung up and tried to get a grip on his emotions. He hated where this seemed to be going. After all, it wasn’t even possible. Maggie was a good girl from a strong family. The idea of her having her own apartment and dating John McFadden, possibly even sleeping with a man like that and getting pregnant, was as foreign as if he’d seen his wife’s face on the FBI’s most wanted list.