Maeve's Symphony (16 page)

Except for thoughts of Josh.

She had wronged him then pushed him aside in an epic fail meant to guard her emotions. Meanwhile, until yesterday's explosion, he had given nothing but patient care, love, and the hammer strike of God's presence in their lives and their relationship.

The realization unlocked a prison for Maeve, shoving rusted gates wide.

A last minute blitz of meetings with producers and performers would occupy the bulk of her day. Late that afternoon, Maeve and the girls were driven to Lincoln Center and a fire kindled deep in her chest. She needed to talk to Josh. She needed to apologize for the way she had lashed out.

While she savored the pampering and restorative effect of a full makeup and hairstyling session, Maeve continued to think things through. Josh deserved much better than she had given, and time was running out. She needed to mend the rift before life pulled him back to Detroit.

Away.

Amazing how a solitary four-letter word could shatter her heart.

Fully costumed right down to sparkling hair accessories, haute couture jewelry and that dazzling chiffon gown of turquoise and sea shades, Maeve followed her team to the wings, awaiting their entry cue.

Since Josh would kick off the gala with a welcome speech, he initiated proceedings. As Maeve tiptoed into the wings, she noticed he stood center stage, bathed in the circle of a spotlight, holding true to established blocking and timing patterns as he detailed the history and impact of Goal to Go.

While she waited for Josh to conclude, Maeve gave AJ Cooper a smile and a wave. He had just arrived backstage and now stood next to Siobhan who positively glowed in his presence. He had flown in for the event and would be a front-row VIP of the Sisters. Maeve had no doubt their ballerina girl would be buoyed by his presence and soar to incredible heights tonight.

Amazingly enough, that thought stirred no loneliness, no sting of longing, just happiness. Pure, transcendent happiness.

Josh wrapped his opening segment by introducing the first performer, a comedian, who bantered with him for a few seconds before starting his act. When he returned to the wings, Maeve moved his way, but he was converged upon by the production manager as well as a small crowd of well-wishers and folks who seemed to be acquaintances.

Sisters in Spirit followed the comedian. Since they headlined, theirs would be the first act to put heavy emphasis on production and timing elements, so she needed to stay alert. Meanwhile, time ticked by.

At last, enough space cleared that Maeve could squeeze forward while bodies moved past. “Josh—Josh, can I talk to you for a minute, please?”

When he paused and turned, Maeve cast a quick glance toward the stage. She was about to be called into place, so she didn't want to waste a second. “I want to apologize for yesterday. I—”

“Don't worry about it.”

Though he cut in, he remained polite and kind, yet withdrawn. Not that she could blame him. Panic built. “No…please hear me out…I behaved badly, and I'm so sorry about the way I treated you. It was wrong—”

“Maeve!” Clipboard in hand, urgency cresting his features, Drew delivered the verbal prompt and a nod toward the stage.

She lifted a hand. “Hang on a sec, OK?”

Josh reached forward as though on impulse, but stilled the motion before touching her. “You have to go.”

“Josh…no…I need to explain.”

“Maeve, it's OK.”

Her desperation escalated in time to a fast-pounding pulse. “You were right about there being no time to breathe once this event gets going.” He nodded, deliberately remote, deliberately fighting for distance. She knew him too well to be fooled by a masked struggle against love.

If she could pour years of wanting him into a rushed couple of sentences, what would they be?

She rested her hand on his forearm, drawing his gaze, beseeching him. “I really want to talk to you, privately, when all of this is over. Please?” The orchestra tuned up and he watched her in quiet speculation. Maeve wanted to grab hold of the clock hands and force them to go still. “I talked to the girls and it helped so much, just like you said, and I want to be able to tell you—”

“Maeve, now!”

This time, Drew wouldn't be denied.

Josh released a sigh, and she saw the questions that danced in his eyes, the doubts, the reluctance. All the same, something rich and deep rode beneath the moment.

Maeve had no choice but to drift away, but as she did, she found the sentences. “Please forgive me, Josh. Please give me this one chance.”

Her chin quaked. The longest ever pair of seconds beat by before he nodded, and something cleared in his features—like the gentle burning away of fog, or the subtle evaporation of dullish gray smoke wisps.

Striving for calm, Maeve took to the stage. What would come next? She had no idea, and she couldn't afford to dwell in the land of what-ifs, over-analyzing the future when before her loomed the most important performance of her life.

 

 

 

 

 

10

 

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to historic Avery Fisher Hall! Tonight, Lincoln Center is proud to celebrate the vision of Goal to Go. Through your generous support, this charity continues its mission to assist children in need.”

The announcer's voice boomed through a packed theater just gone dark. Performers gathered in the wings. As always before a performance, Maeve's stomach danced with the swarming beat and tickle of butterfly wings.

While the announcer continued, detailing performers and highlights of the show to come, she stuck close to her team. A nervous falter lasted only a few seconds because once everyone gathered, Liam called matters to order by saying, simply, “Aileen, send us to Christ.”

The summons initiated a traditional, pre-performance group prayer; Maeve's chest swelled and she drew strength from the fact that ever since the start of this extraordinary journey their mission had been about serving—and honoring—God.

Shoulder to shoulder, arms wound snug and a circle of eight was formed. Heads lowered and Aileen began in her smooth, sweet voice. “Lord, we're filled with gratitude. We're filled with the joy of sharing Your love through song and dance. Be with us. Keep us in Your hands as You use tonight to bring people ever closer to You. Amen.”

Tears stung. Maeve's lips trembled as she took stock of the people who surrounded her. Ailee and Liam, KC and Drew, Siobhan and AJ.

Josh.

He needed to take the stage in a few seconds, but he had paused to stand within their precious ring—where he belonged. With that, the battle Maeve fought against sin and past regrets fell into a quick and silent death.

All that remained was her love for Josh, the beauty of wanting to come home to him for good and for all. The very last fragments of Maeve's resistance dissolved.

Before leaving, Josh bent to give her cheek a quick, soft kiss and whispered, “Dazzle them, Maevie.” He stepped back to briefly search her eyes, the gesture tentative but warm. “I'll see you after.”

Just like that, fresh roots of hope burst to life. Her smile flowed straight from a spirit radiant with joy. “I'll see you then.”

“…And so, we invite you to sit back, relax, and enjoy tonight's performance. To kick things off, please extend a warm greeting to Detroit's all-star quarterback and two-time pro-bowler, Josh Andrews!”

The announcer's call ended the moment, and Josh strode onto the stage. Maeve nipped her lower lip, admiring him from a fresh perspective. He wore a black silk suit touched by a deep blue pop of color that came from his tie and pocket square. He offered waves and ready smiles as he lifted his hand-held mic and kicked off the night's festivities.

“He's completely delicious.” Kassidy snickered then danced light fingertips against the airy fabric of Maeve's gown. “Hmm…blue accents for him, blue chiffon for you—what a God-incidence.”

Jarred from girlish fantasies, Maeve shot Kassidy an exasperated look but her gaze tracked inexorably to Josh. Filling the stage, he moved from point to point, ramming home the importance of his philanthropic arm in a brief snapshot of its history and victories. He was charismatic and classy—and his passion for the underprivileged filled the venue.

Kassidy gave Maeve's waist a quick, loving squeeze. “Are you ready, sweet thing?”

“Absolutely.”

 

****

 

For a while, Maeve's world centered on music—music that awakened a fire, fulfilled a calling, bathed her in a blessing. It didn't matter that she had rehearsed the pieces time and time again. Here and now, they felt fresh. It didn't matter that every step she made appeared spontaneous and full of easy grace. In actuality, every move had been artfully but painstakingly arranged. It didn't matter that somewhere, in the farthest reaches of her mind, she knew Sisters in Spirit delivered the performance of a lifetime. All that mattered was the music that poured through her in an anointing cascade.

Especially during the debut of “Nothing to Hide.”

Maeve hit her mark at center stage then launched into her solo verse. “
Nothing to hide. No one to blame. Public and private remaining the same. Don't just watch your own life go on by, you will be free if you try…”

The girls surrounded her and their three voices blended while Siobhan spun past and sank to a graceful bow. “
Take away the superficial, Make up is blind, love is inside, nothing to hide. Take away the artificial. Make up your mind, leave it behind, nothing to hide…”
Through it all, Maeve couldn't pull her gaze from Josh. Echoes of the past swelled upward from his spot in the front row. Everything about tonight embodied the Josh and Maeve of before, of purest, richest love—not the Josh and Maeve of after, of struggles, pain, and loss. He delivered a simple yet eloquent tip of the lips that entered her bloodstream and flowed with exhilarating vibrancy.

For precious seconds, she drifted into the past, into the confines of a high school auditorium where Josh hunkered against a seat at the back, focused on her alone, a loving aura traveling the short distance between his heart and hers.

He had loved her from the start with such power, such force of conviction, that her life was forever changed.

Once the last notes faded, Maeve joined hands with her friends—unified and forever connected. They exchanged sparkling-eyed glances, mutually overcome.
Breathe
, Maeve told herself.
Just breathe.

They faced the audience, smiles bright as they dipped into curtseys that acknowledged a standing ovation and cheers. It wasn't lost on Maeve that Josh was the first to leap to his feet, leading the appreciative roar.

 

****

 

“Miss Callahan?”

“Yes?”

“I'm Gary Trumbull, a driver sent for you by Mr. Andrews.”

Maeve was baffled by his arrival. The man offered his ID. Attired in a chauffeur's uniform of dark blue, his image met that of the plastic laminated card Maeve held.

But that didn't explain his unexpected arrival.

“Yes, we've been expecting you.” Aileen, Kassidy, and Siobhan converged around Maeve with Aileen leading the charge. “Before he left, Josh told me he had a surprise for us. Come on! Let's find out what it is!”

More confused than ever, yet still riding a luscious high from the just concluded performance, Maeve followed. The quartet climbed into the rear of a sleek, white stretch limousine, bathed instantly by its neon glow. Giggling like kids, they popped a pair of small nonalcoholic champagne bottles in deference to ‘baby-Douglas-to-be.'

“A toast,” Aileen said. “To us.”

“Sisters forever.” Maeve's vision went misty as she took in her three most treasured friends, savoring the moment, the energy, the bond. “I love you guys. I really, truly do.”

Tears built all around as four hands joined in the center of the space between them. “Sisters forever.”

The response came like music, and with total synchronicity. The moment poured a sentimental wash across them all. Tears and soft sighs filled the air while four glasses came together in a musical chime, sparkling gold with a delicate layer of white froth on top.

Following the requisite sips, Aileen declared, “Ladies, I do believe we met our goal.”

Chilly bubbles with a sweet bite burst against Maeve's tongue as she dashed fingertips beneath her moist lashes. “Which one is that?”

“All those years ago, didn't we say we wanted to take the world by storm?” Wearing a beaming smile, Aileen initiated a second toast. “Well, my friends, we did it!”

Pure joy filled Maeve's soul. Tears fell free, and she wasn't alone as they drank once more then exchanged hugs and cheek kisses.

By now, however, curiosity ate Maeve alive. “Isn't anyone going to tell me where we're going?”

The trio exchanged knowing looks, which instantly disconcerted Maeve.

“Ladies.”

“We promised not to tell.” Aileen presented a wide-eyed, innocent visage.

“Ladies.”

Siobhan clucked her tongue. “Oh, just drink your champagne and relax, Maeve. You're going to love it.” She squiggled.

Maeve arched a brow, made ready to argue. Cutting off further discussion, Aileen cranked up the sound on the radio and instigated a raucous sing-along to the song “Gold” by Brit Nicole.

Oh, what was the use? Maeve surrendered to the crazy, wonderful flow of her friends and whatever it was Josh had planned in the way of an afterglow. Sipping champagne as instructed, she chimed in on the refrains, harmonizing with the girls. Perfection.

A winding, circuitous route took them away from the Upper Westside, through Times Square and into the heart of the Theater District. Maeve looked out the window, at neon lights that erupted like multicolored diamonds across billboards, along buildings, against shimmering glass. New York City at night. There was nothing in the world like it.