The Truth About Fairy Tales (29 page)

             
By the time I'd opened the very last package, there were piles of wrapping paper strewn all around the living room, representative of just about every single special occasion from Christmas to my birthday to graduation. All the way from the ten-year-old little girl Barbie doll to the earrings for my law school graduation just recently. I knew I could never bring myself to get rid of any of them. I’d cherish them all for the rest of my life because each one of them would always remind me of the precious
gift
that Jackson had given back to me. The return of my mother and the good things about her that I’d buried beneath the pain and resentment.

             
After we’d gathered up all the paper and ribbons and tossed them in the trash, we sat on the floor in front of my gifts and I realized for the first time just what a terrible thing I’d done by not giving my mother a chance to redeem herself. How difficult that must have been for Jackson to witness.

             
“How do you put up with me?” I asked him, feeling like I could cry at any moment in spite of the fact that I’d been doing nothing but for most of the day. This guy knew all of my strange ways and he’d accepted every last one of them without question.

             
He’d made all the adjustments in his life for me and never once had I told him how much I appreciated any of those things in him. I owed him so much, but mostly I owed him for helping me make sense of my life, even when I thought I had all the answers. Now, I realized just how wrong I’d been.

             
“I think you know the answer to that already, don’t you, little bit? I love you. I’d do anything for you. And it’s not putting up with you. I love every little strange thing about you because that’s what made you who you are. You aren’t like any other woman I’ve ever met before. I love everything about you”

             
“I don’t deserve you, Jackson. How can I ever make it up to you?” I turned to touch his face and saw only love and maybe a little bit of tender amusement in his eyes.

             
“I think you know the answer to that one as well. You can marry me.”

             
He picked me up and carried me to my little girl bed in my old room. That night there was so much tenderness in him that it took my breath away. This guy loved me—really deep down to the soul loved me. If I’d ever had any doubts about that love, today had settled all of them once and for all.

             
And that night, another miracle happened. I never had another nightmare after that day.

             
Developing a healthy relationship with my mother would take a whole lot of time and patience on both our parts. I knew one day it would mean the world to the both of us. But only in time. For now, I was just happy to have found her again and happy to spend time with her.

             
Jackson and I spent the next evening with my mother and Fred. I was surprised and a little overwhelmed that she’d actually remembered my favorite meal growing up. Back when it was just the two of us living in that tiny little one bedroom apartment, before the drugs and men had put a wedge between us.

             
My mother made me Sloppy Joes. Oh, not the kind you get out of a mix or any jar. No, mom made her recipe all from scratch. I’d never had Sloppy Joes after I’d left her because I couldn’t. Tonight they’d never tasted better.

             
“You remembered? I can’t believe you remembered this was one of my favorites!” I gave her a hug before answering the question in Jackson’s puzzled expression.

             
“I loved mom’s Sloppy Joes when I was little. You’ve never tasted any better.”

             
He looked at them as if he wasn’t quite sure what they were. “I’ve never tasted any so I’m not going to be the best judge of that.”

             
“You’ve never had Sloppy Joes before? You are such a rich guy. Well, you’re in for a treat. These are the best in the world. Trust me, I should know.”

             
And they were. My mother hadn’t lost her touch. But as far as Jackson was concerned they could have been terrible for all he knew, he would never have said differently. He was just happy to have me smiling.

             
My mother and I stayed up late that night talking and catching up on all the years we’d missed apart. I hated to go to sleep, because we were leaving right after church the next day.

             
The little church in which Fred preached each week was out in the country, just off the main highway. It was small—there were barely fifty people attending, but it was easy to see that everyone in the congregation loved both Fred and my mother and seemed to know all about me.

             
I believe seeing me there with my mother was like a miracle for many of them. It was clear that they all knew of my mother’s past life and about me. It was obvious that I’d been on the receiving end of many of their prayers for a long time now.

             
It was hard saying goodbye to my mom that day, but I made her and Fred promise to come visit us in Austin and I told her we’d come back after Gran returned from her honeymoon and spend more time.

             
“You know, here I was feeling so proud of myself that I got you and your mother together after all these years and now I see I didn’t really have anything to do with it.”

             
“What do you mean?” I asked Jackson. "You had everything to do with it.”

             
“Are you kidding? With all those prayers from the church members? No way, I didn’t do a thing.”

             
I had to smile at the innocent way he’d accepted my beliefs into his life as well. “Well, maybe you were the instrument used to answer those prayers. You ever think about that?”

             
I could see from his expression that he was a little in awe of that thought. “The instrument of prayer, huh? I like it. I think I like being an instrument of prayer, little bit. Makes me feel good.”

             
That along with his expression had me laughing from sheer happiness. “Well, you may be the instrument of prayer in this case, but you, Jackson Riley, are my answer to prayer all the time.”

             
I think that made him even happier.

Chapter Sixteen

              Back home, both of our lives took on a frantic pace again. The cases given to me were almost impossible to live through at times. I think finding my mother again helped and I was trying to develop a thicker skin as Jessie suggested, even though it was hard for the newer softer Maggie to consider.

             
I spoke to my mom almost every single week. She told me that she’d talked to Gran on several occasions and of course, my grandmother was thrilled, but I suspected she already knew what was happening. I knew that she and Jackson talked quite often on their own. He called her just about as often as I did so I had a feeling none of this was coming as a surprise to her.

             
Jackson hadn’t mentioned getting married since that one night in Santa Anna, but I knew he was waiting for me to settle it in my mind and I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for.

             
I’d started working longer hours, coming home and all but collapsing in his arms each night. I was feeling crappy and sick, but I didn’t understand why. I didn’t have a cold, but I felt exhausted and blah most of the time. I figured I was just overdoing it with the new job and the long hours, not to mention the excitement of having my mother back in my life.

Even through all of my newfound security, I still couldn’t quite convince myself to let go of that old fear of the past. I was almost certain something was waiting to take it all away.

              Genna was getting so close to her due date that it was a struggle for her to meet us for lunch anymore. Serena and I had started picking up take out and meeting her at her house for our weekly lunch dates.

             
We both knew Genna was excited about the baby, but she was anxious as well. I think she just wanted it all to be over with.

             
Jessie had asked me to help her with one of her cases, mostly doing research. I was to be second chair to her. This was the hardest case to date. I think even the seasoned Jessie was finding it hard to stomach it. For me, it was an all too familiar scenario.

             
Our client was the aunt of a little girl who had been left all but abandoned by both her parents. They were addicts and given to going off for days on end, leaving the little girl alone. At first, I told Jessie I couldn’t do it. Too much of the case reminded me of my own life. That little girl was me, all the way down to the age. All I wanted to do was take her home with me.

             
Jessie hadn’t backed down and hadn’t allowed me the luxury of running away. So, I did the only thing left for me to do. I threw myself into gathering all the evidence we would need to win this case for the little girl’s aunt.

Each afternoon when I left the office, I would spend half the trip home crying. I hated the parents for being so selfish that they would put the little girl’s life in danger.

              Jessie was certain that she could win the case. One afternoon, as we sat together going over the final details in the conference room the day before the trial was scheduled to begin I felt the first cramp hit low in my abdomen that told me something was terribly wrong with me.

             
It sliced though my body, doubling me over in pain. It was then that I noticed the blood, but I didn’t have time to even consider what might be wrong before another pain greater than the other brought tears to my eyes and had me screaming out and reaching for Jessie’s arm to clench in my pain.

             
“Maggie? Oh, my God, what is it?”

             
“Jessie…Jessie, I’m bleeding. I think I need to go to the hospital.”

             
That was the last real thing I remembered before waking up in the hospital. I’d lost consciousness soon after. I didn’t really remember anything of the ride to the hospital, only being conscious in bits and pieces of conversation and unfamiliar faces around me trying to soothe away my fears.

             
When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed with Jackson holding my hand and Jessie and Rich standing close by. I learned that I’d had a miscarriage. I hadn’t even known I was pregnant.

             
Doctor Miranda Raymond who had been my physician for years, responded to the ER doctor’s page. She’d waited with Jackson until I was conscious to tell me the news.

             
Jackson held my hand while Miranda told me that there wasn’t any known cause for the miscarriage. In other words, I hadn’t done anything to provoke it. She told us that sometimes it was just the body’s own way of letting you know something was wrong with the pregnancy.

             
After Jessie and Rich left us alone I asked the question that was most on my mind.

             
“Will I be able to have more children?”

             
“Maggie, you are a healthy young woman. I don’t see any reason to doubt that you will be able to carry another baby to full term.” There was just a little bit of hesitancy in her voice that told me there was always the chance of another miscarriage.

             
“You’re not telling me everything are you, Miranda?”

             
“I am. There’s always a small chance that this could happen again, but I don’t see that in your history. When you’re ready to have children, we’ll worry about it more.”

             
In my mind, I knew she was telling me I was healthy and should not have a problem conceiving, but me being the frightened little girl that I still was saw that small chance of disaster and focused on it.

             
Miranda released me later that evening, after keeping a close watch on me for a while and Jackson drove me home. It was the longest trip I could ever remember taking. It seemed like it took hours.

             
We walked into the house and our little dog came hobbling out to greet us, but not even Sidney could ease my sadness at that moment.

             
“I’m going to take a bath,” I told Jackson without looking at him. I really just needed to be alone to collect my scattered emotions and I believe he understood all of that. Jackson knew me so well.

             
I sat in the warm tub, but I couldn’t cry. I wanted to cry for the child that we’d lost today, but I was just too stunned. I hadn’t even known that I was pregnant. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

             
“Hey, you’ve been in here an awful long time? Maggie, you’re shivering.” Jackson came in, holding a towel for me. He gathered me in its warmth and dried my chilled skin before picking me up in his arms and carrying me to the bedroom.