Slow Dance in Purgatory

"I really can do your makeup, Maggie. I'll meet you back here before the game. That way if Dara makes a snotty comment, I can tell her I was the one who did it. That should shut her up," Jody whispered conspiratorially. "She's just jealous of girls like you who really don't need a stitch of makeup to be gorgeous. Plus, you're a better dancer than she is, and everyone on the team knows it."

Maggie smiled gratefully at Jody. Jody was one of that rare breed of girls who is pretty, popular and nice. She had a large group of friends and wasn’t kind for any ulterior reasons. It was just simply who she was, and she had been friendly and welcoming to Maggie from the very beginning. Jody had been slipping her tips and tools since her very first performance with the team. The help with her makeup that night would be much appreciated, especially if it would shut Dara up. Dancing was one thing, make-up and know how was another, and Maggie had very little of either.

"I won't make you look like a clown. We'll make it work for the dance afterward, too. You're not going to have any time to go home and get ready if you're taking tickets."

Maggie's stomach cramped nervously. The makeup problem was solved, but what in the world was she going to do about a dress?

***

Maggie couldn’t afford to miss a day of work, even for a dress emergency, and she raced through her janitorial duties, mentally sifting through her meager wardrobe for ideas. She had two skirts that she alternated each Sunday for church, but they were way too casual, and that was about it in the dress department.

Gus knew she had to perform that night at the basketball game, and he made sure she would finish by 4:30. There was no music to distract her or make her smile. For what ever reason, Johnny was still keeping his distance. Something quaked inside Maggie at the thought that he might stay away permanently. Her little circle of friends was small enough.

Shad was hollow-eyed and quiet, and he had kept to himself, his mother’s arrest obviously weighing on his mind. Maggie hadn’t wanted to press, but she was worried about her friend. Gus didn’t look much better. Maggie wished Malia Jasper would go away and stay gone. But who really knew if Shad and Jasper felt that way? Surely, a man like Gus Jasper loved his daughter, in spite of everything. Shad obviously loved his mother, too. The taunts wouldn’t hurt so badly if he didn’t. Family stuff was complicated at best -- the good, bad, and ugly all tangled up in the ties that bind. And poor Shad seemed as torn and tangled as a fourteen-year-old boy could possibly be.

Maggie rode her bike hard for home and rushed through the front door at 5:00. Not stopping to even say hello to Aunt Irene, she raced for her closet, searching for a wardrobe miracle. She found nothing but dust bunnies and worn out options. Where was her fairy godmother when she needed her? Feeling a lump the size of Mars rising in her throat, Maggie fell onto her narrow bed and tried to breathe deeply, forcing the tears away.

“Crying won’t make a dress appear, Mags,” she told herself, rubbing fiercely at her smarting eyes. But the sorrow she felt was deeper than a dress, and she felt the fissure in her chest widen, as the dam threatened to break. The flood of grief and fear she had been holding in all week began to spill out. Maggie bit down on her pillow and forced the sorrow back. She would not cry over a stupid dance or stupid Dara, for that matter. She would wear what she had, and it would be okay…

“Margaret?” Irene’s gentle voice drifted under the door, and Maggie sat up and smoothed her tumbled hair, oddly grateful for the interruption.

“Just a minute, Auntie!” Maggie yelled and hoped her wobbly voice didn’t give her away. If Irene knew the reason Maggie cried it would hurt her, and Maggie wouldn’t hurt Aunt Irene for anything. She never wanted Irene to regret taking her in.

Aunt Irene slipped the door open and peered in, her kind face wearing a concerned frown. “Are you okay, sweetie?”

“Oh sure, fine!” Maggie answered brightly, nodding her head and smiling. “Just a little tired. It’s been a long day, and I’ve got the game tonight, and the dance team is hosting the big dance afterward, and I’m taking tickets, so it’s going to be a lot longer still..” Maggie realized she was babbling and stopped, smiling and nodding her head some more. “So….. yeah,” she finished lamely.

“Gus called and said he thought you seemed a little upset. Is everything okay at school? Gus said there are posters all over advertising the dance. Are you sad because no one asked you?” Aunt Irene sat beside Maggie on the bed and reached for her hand.