Read Weaving the Strands Online
Authors: Barbara Hinske
Maggie paced in front of the
library fireplace, clutching the sheet of paper and re-reading her resignation
letter for the hundredth time. She’d spent the best part of two hours drafting
it. In the end, she’d decided that the less said, the better. Maggie returned
to her laptop, pressed print, and sealed the letter in an envelope addressed to
the town clerk. She sent an email to Don Upton accepting the expert witness
assignment and logged off her computer.
She checked the time; it was almost noon. John was
picking her up at three for a movie and an early New Year’s Eve dinner. Their
plan was to be home by eight, in bed by nine, and asleep by ten. Maggie wanted
to get this letter out of her hands. Then she could relax. Besides, the
early-morning snow had continued unabated and the roads were getting worse all
the time. She’d nip down to Town Hall, give the letter to the town clerk, and
come home to get ready for her date.
***
Between the slippery roads and
endlessly second-guessing herself, Maggie was in a state of jittery exhaustion
by the time she reached Town Hall. Her stomach churned as she pulled into her assigned
parking spot with the placard “Reserved for the Hon. Margaret Martin.” She
sighed and heaved herself out of her car.
The sidewalk was getting icy; she proceeded
gingerly up the steps and into the lobby, which was deserted on this final day
of the year. She was greeted unenthusiastically by the receptionist, an elderly
woman with a head cold. “I’m the only one here today,” she answered when Maggie
asked for the town clerk. “We’ve all been sick. You don’t want to get near any
of us.”
“I’ll just leave this on her desk then.”
“I can take it back for you,” replied the woman.
“No. You stay put. I don’t mind,” Maggie said as
she made her way to the town clerk’s office. She hesitated, then quickly
propped the envelope against the phone, pivoted, and walked resolutely toward
the lobby.
“I hope you feel better,” she said over her
shoulder to the receptionist on her way out. Feeling slightly shaky now that
she’d actually delivered the letter, Maggie pushed against the heavy door to
the building. The wind was against her so she had to throw all of her weight
against it. The door finally opened and Maggie burst through, slipping on the
ice over the threshold, sending her purse and its contents scattering. Frank
Haynes, ascending the top step, dodged the contents and grabbed Maggie’s elbow,
preventing her from sprawling on the concrete.
“Thank you, Frank,” Maggie said shakily. “You do
have the habit of rescuing me, don’t you?”
Haynes eyed her warily. “Are you all right? You
don’t look so good.”
“I’m fine. Good, actually. I was just here
delivering something to the clerk.”
Haynes looked at her quizzically. “Anything I
should know about?”
“Not now. You will.” Maggie got down on one knee
and began to retrieve the contents of her purse.
“Let me help you with this,” he said, setting his
phone down while he collected her wallet and keys from the bottom step. Neither
of them noticed when she scooped up his phone, and placed it in her purse.
“Let me help you to your car,” Haynes insisted.
“It’s getting treacherous out here. The roads are bad; drive carefully getting
home.”
“Thank you, Frank. I will. And Happy New Year.”
Haynes smiled warmly, in spite of the inclement
weather, as he watched her car pull away. He’d have to let Upton know that
their plan had been successful. If she hadn’t turned in her resignation, he’d
eat his hat.
***
John picked Maggie up shortly
before three. She pasted a bright smile on her lips as she showed him a copy of
her resignation letter and told him that she’d delivered it to the town clerk.
“You’re sure about this?” he asked, trying to
sound neutral.
“Absolutely,” she assured him. “And I’ve printed
off a stack of stuff from the Internet for us to plow through together about
cruises and luxury vacation spots. By this time tomorrow, we’ll have
reservations for the most romantic trip anyone’s ever taken.”
John swept her into his arms and held her tight.
“I can’t believe I almost let you go,” he whispered into her hair. “I can
hardly wait to get you away from here and have you all to myself.”
Maggie leaned back. “We don’t have to go out, you
know.”
“Renege on a promise to my girl?” he scoffed. “On
New Year’s Eve, of all nights? No way. When was the last time you relaxed and
watched a movie? Let’s get going.”
***
They settled into the movie—a
predictable but pleasant romantic comedy that he knew she wanted to
see—with their oversized movie theater sodas and big buckets of popcorn.
New Year’s Eve was no time to count calories.
The movie was well underway when a phone cheeped
noisily. Maggie started digging frantically in her purse. John turned to her
and whispered, “I saw you put your phone on silent.”
“I did,” she replied, “but it definitely came from
here.” She pulled out Frank’s phone and looked at the text message as she
flipped the switch to vibrate mode. She shielded the screen with her hand and
read the message, then read it again:
We did it! M accepted job. Thnx for your help.
M and town better off.
She passed the phone to John, who did the same. He
turned to her, grabbed her arm and led her into the lobby, telling her to leave
the soda and popcorn behind.
***
They sat on a bench along the wall
of the movie theater. “This is Frank Haynes’ phone,” Maggie said quietly, turning
to John. “I ran into him—literally—on the steps to Town Hall when I
was leaving today. I dropped my purse and scattered my stuff everywhere. He
helped me retrieve it. I must have picked up his phone by mistake.”
She handed the cell phone to John. “Do you
recognize the phone number that sent the text?” he asked.
Maggie slowly shook her head, then stopped
abruptly. “It’s a Chicago area code. And the only person I’ve told was Don
Upton. I sent him an email accepting the job.”
“Do you have his number in your contacts?”
Maggie was already digging her phone out of her
purse. She scrolled through her contacts and held her phone next to Haynes’.
The numbers on the screens matched.
“What in the world?” Maggie exclaimed.
“This means that Upton and Haynes were in on this
together. To get you to resign.”
“But the expert witness job is legitimate,” Maggie
said, shaking her head.
“Maybe Upton’s participation in this is innocent,”
John said.
Maggie considered his statement. “I don’t think
so,” she said slowly. “They never let on that they were friendly. I thought
they’d only met once, briefly, at a finance committee meeting.”
Maggie turned to John. “Come on. Upton has Frank’s
cell phone number? Something’s fishy. They’ve been covering up their relationship,
whatever it may be.”
“It looks that way.”
“I trusted Don. I’m the one who brought him in to
assist us. And he’s given the town wonderful advice on our finances. I just
don’t understand this,” she cried, raking her fingers through her hair.
She dropped her head into her hands while John
silently stroked her back.
“God,” she spat, looking up at John abruptly. “I’m
an idiot. I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming. I’ve played right into
their hands.”
“Don’t berate yourself, honey. Nobody would have
suspected Upton of conspiring with Haynes. And you’re not sure that’s what’s
going on. Those text messages aren’t enough to prove anything.”
“What should I do, John?”
John looked at her steadily and held her gaze. “I
suspect you know what you want to do.”
“Part of me wants to say, ‘
Hell no, you don’t!
You’re
not
getting rid of me that easily.’ But another part of me wants
to just take this consulting job, so I can keep my promises to you and my kids.
So we can take that trip we were going to plan tomorrow. I’m tired of
disappointing everyone.”
“We can take a trip another time. And I’m
not going anywhere. I told you I’d support you when you took this job, but the
minute I had my knee surgery and you weren’t there at my beck and call, I got
pouty and selfish. I went back on my promise. Our breakup wasn’t all your
fault, and I’m sorry I let you think so.” John took both her hands in his.
“Sweetheart, whatever this is, it’s not right. We can’t let them get away with
it. I won’t stand by and let that happen.”
“It’s done,” Maggie cried. “No going back now.”
“You didn’t really want to resign, and you know
it,” John said. “I’ve been selfish, wanting more time with you. But,” he stood
and pulled her to her feet, checking his watch, “we’ve got twenty minutes
before Town Hall closes. Let’s go get that resignation letter.”
“Yes,” she said with a nod after consideration.
“We’ll burn it in the fireplace at midnight. I’m not going to let those
bastards win.”
***
Later that night, John slipped out
of bed, carefully extricating his arm from under Maggie’s neck, and crept downstairs.
He started a fire, opened a bottle of champagne and set two flutes on the
mantel. He roused Eve and Roman; after all, they needed to be part of this
historic moment. When the fire was blazing, he ascended the stairs.
“Sweetheart,” he whispered as he gently shook her
shoulders.
Maggie rolled over and brushed the hair off her
face. “Sorry; I fell asleep. Is it past midnight?”
“Not yet. You’ve got fifteen minutes to get
downstairs and ring in the New Year with me.”
“Good,” she said, getting out of bed and putting
on the robe he held for her. “I want to burn that damned resignation letter.”
“It’s waiting by the fireplace, right where you left
it.”
Maggie took John’s hand and together they slowly
descended the stairs. At the fireplace, she glanced at John and he nodded.
Maggie tossed the letter over the hearth, and they watched as the flames
touched—and then consumed—the paper that would have spelled a
different future for them both.
Maggie inhaled. “It’s done. Thank you for building
the fire.”
“One more thing.” John stepped to the mantel and
poured them each a glass of champagne. “To the most courageous woman I know,
with the biggest heart and most generous spirit.”
“I don’t know about that,” Maggie began.
“I do,” John insisted. “Now drink.”
Maggie took a sip as John guided her into a
wingback chair by the hearth.
“What in the world are you doing?” she asked as
John gingerly placed one knee on the floor. “You’re not supposed to be on your
knees after your surgery.”
“There’s one exception to that bit of medical
advice.”
He took both of her hands in his. “Maggie. You are
the light of my life; the woman I’ve been searching for, always. You are my
first thought in the morning and the last at night. I am never going to let you
go. No matter what is ahead for us, I want us to meet it together. Will you do
me the honor of marrying me?”
Maggie slipped out of the chair to her knees,
flinging her arms around his neck. “Yes. For God’s sake, yes!”
The End
If you enjoyed
Weaving the Strands
, I’d be grateful if you wrote a review.
Just a few lines would be great. Reviews are the best
gift an author can receive. They encourage us when they’re good, help us
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To post a review on Amazon or
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Go
to the product detail page for
Weaving
the Strands
on Amazon.com.
2.
Click
“Write a customer review” in the Customer Reviews section.
3.
Write
your review and click Submit.
In
gratitude,
Barbara
Hinske
Just for You!
Wonder what Maggie was thinking when the book
ended?
Exclusively for readers who finished the book,
take a look at
Maggie’s
Diary Entry
.
I am deeply grateful to my
incomparable husband, Brian Willis, my wise and creative editor, Linden Gross,
my irrepressible coach Mat Boggs, the remarkable design team at MonkeyCMedia,
and my friends Jeffrie, Donna, Georgia, Mark, and Norma, for their unfailing
support, confidence, and enthusiasm. With you in my corner, how could I fail?
(If
your club talks about anything other than family, jobs, and household
projects!)
1.
We’ve all met someone like Frank Haynes, who refuses to be the
better person that he shows us—on rare occasion—he can be. Have you
ever convinced someone to be his or her best self? How did you do it?
2.
Do you enjoy entertaining, as Maggie does?
3.
Do you know your neighbors and is your neighborhood a friendly
place? Would you welcome more interaction with your neighbors?
4.
Did the book engage you right away or did it take a while to get
into?
5.
Have you ever ended a relationship because the other person
didn’t make you a priority? Should Maggie have handled her relationship with
John differently?
6.
Have you ever been assigned to work on a big project with someone
you didn’t like? In the course of working with them, have you learned to like
them better?
7.
Did any of the passages or dialogue strike you as insightful or
ring particularly true? Have you said or felt any of those things?
8.
Have you ever spent a major holiday away from home? How did you
handle it? Would you do it again?
9.
What would you like to ask the author?
10.
What
would you like to see happen in the third installment of the Rosemont series?