Jillian Bailey nodded, and her eyes searched Maggie’s blank face for several seconds. “I don’t understand how any of this happened. But it did. And I promise you I will do everything in my power to help him and to take care of him as long as he needs me to. He won’t be alone.” Her tone was tender as she reached for Maggie’s hand.
“I’ll be waiting,” Maggie whispered, and her composure cracked the smallest bit. “Will you tell him? Tell him I will be here whenever he needs me.”
Jillian nodded and rose from Maggie’s bed. The next day, Maggie was released from the hospital.
~3~
A Time to Be Born
Bobby and the Bell Tones were pretty good. They looked slick and professional in their matching light blue sport coats and jaunty black bow ties. The guy at the mic could really sing, and they played all the crowd-pleasers, with enough slow numbers that the boys could hold their girls every other song. Johnny arched his back and tried not to pull at the collar of his too-tight bow tie. His white sports coat was too hot, and he longed for denim and boots. Tonight he was slicked up and pressed into the fancy duds his momma had insisted he wear. He had thought he should make a statement and wear his leather jacket to the Prom, but Momma nixed that idea.
The cheerful pink carnation pinned to his lapel defied the heat of the overcrowded, over-decorated gymnasium. The room had been transformed into a water world for its “Under the Sea” theme, complete with fountains and aquariums. Huge fishing nets hung overhead, filled with seafoam green balloons that were clearly meant to look like bubbles. Giant glittering starfish hung precariously from the nets, and the entrance had even been made to look like the gangplank of a sunken ship. Irene Honeycutt’s daddy had given the prom committee, of which Irene was president, a healthy donation, and they had put it to good use. So often the band was the thing they scrimped on, but not tonight. The kids were dancing their socks off.
Johnny hadn’t really wanted to go to the Prom, but Carter had a thing for Peggy Wilkey, and he had begged Johnny to ask her so they could double date. Johnny had asked Carter why he didn’t ask her himself. Carter moaned and claimed his momma said Peggy was a tramp and he had to take his cousin because she would never get asked. Johnny liked to dance, so he’d taken pity on Carter; plus, Johnny liked Peggy, and he knew her daddy would hate it if he asked her. Peggy’s daddy was a cop, and he was always pulling Johnny over for the slightest thing. Johnny figured making the old man sweat a little was just payback, and it was nice to stick a thumb in his eye when he got the chance. He watched as Carter swung Peggy around the dance floor, Peggy’s pink dress swinging around the two of them as they moved. Carter’s cousin Nancy didn’t look too happy about it, but at least she’d gotten to come. She caught him looking at her and immediately elbowed the equally glum girls sitting at her sides. Their heads swiveled toward him and they straightened their backs and fluffed their skirts in syncopated rhythm. Then they all stared at him like a pack of piranhas. Johnny rapidly shifted his attention elsewhere.
Irene Honeycutt tapped her feet and looked longingly out at the dance floor. Roger Carlton was surrounded by a bunch of his friends, chatting away, ignoring his date. Johnny had already asked Irene to dance once, just to get under Roger’s skin. He started forward to ask her again when he saw the girl. She was in fire-engine red, and her dark hair was long and unbound, waving past her shoulders and swooping across one eye, creating a peek-a-boo effect. None of the girls wore their hair long these days. They all wore it in pinned curls and shoulder length styles with curled bangs. This girl’s hair looked like that movie star that Momma liked – the one from the 1940’s…Veronica Lake. She wasn’t very popular anymore. Momma said Veronica Lake had a bad reputation for drinking too much and getting married and divorced too many times. Momma said if it was a man drinking too much booze and spending too much time with the ladies, no one would mind. In fact, he would probably be more popular! She defended Veronica Lake like it was something personal. Johnny shook his head, banishing thoughts of his mother and her own flawed reputation.
The new girl looked like she had come alone. She walked down the gangplank entrance and paused, as if trying to figure out what to do next. She clutched a little silver handbag in her pale hands. Johnny’s eyes traveled from her hands to her smooth bare shoulders and down her slim form encased in red. The bodice was tight, and his eyes lingered where they shouldn’t. The skirt was a very full tulle -- that’s what Peggy had called it-- as was the style of most of the other girls’ dresses, but no one was wearing red. All the other girls were wearing different pinks and pastels. This girl stood out like a sore thumb…or a rose among carnations. The girl seemed to suddenly register this fact, and she looked down at her dress and back up again, out at the swirling shades of pale. She turned slightly, as if trying to decide whether to leave the way she had come. Johnny couldn’t let that happen. He started to walk toward her, weaving in and out of the dancing couples.
When he was about halfway across the floor her eyes latched onto him, and he saw the color rise on her cheekbones and her hand flutter to her chest. She watched him like she knew him, like she expected him to be there. He knew he’d never seen her before…he would remember if he had. She looked a little like Irene Honeycutt in her coloring and the wide blue set of her eyes. He wondered briefly if they were related. And then all thoughts of Irene Honeycutt fled. The girl smiled at him, and his heart hitched and his step faltered. He stopped several feet in front of her, and for the life of him he couldn’t prevent the smile that spread across his own face in response. His usual swagger failed him. He felt like he was twelve years old.