Chapter Two pt. one

April 17, 1986

Maggie was a young woman who held tight to her paternal heritage. Named after her father’s mother, and a second generation Irish-American on her father’s side, her name was all she had.   Fifth of six children, only one of two still left at home, Maggie did everything she could to hold on to her father’s memory. Bearing an uncanny resemblance to her name’s sake, Maggie’s blue-hazel eyes were uncommon and very striking. She was big-boned, and her hair was reddish-light brown with uncontrollable waves that fell thick and full just above her shoulders. 

Her two older sisters were small framed and had beautiful, pin-straight blonde hair. One had crystal clear bright blue eyes, while the other had bright green eyes.   Dresden dolls, she referred to them with much affection. Her oldest sister was Charlene, the blue-eyed cheerleader.   Maggie heard the stories, more like legends, over and over again how she never cracked open a book, and had a straight four-point-oh grade point average.  Lest she forget her older sister accomplished it all while managing to be her high school title of socialite of the decade.  Charlene was ten years, to the month, older than Maggie, and they were very close.   Her middle sister, Elise, was the actress. Tall, slim, beautiful, and smart, Elise was eight years Maggie’s senior. Her whole life, Maggie stood inside the shadow of her two beautiful, brilliant, very outgoing older sisters.

The only solitude Maggie had during the day was during the three-hour period between returning home from school and her mother coming home from work. It was during that time that she buried herself in homework. On the rare occasion that no homework was assigned, she would lock herself in her room and read a book.   Books were her way to lose herself inside another world, to forget about her life and live vicariously through the characters that she grew to love and admire.

Maggie and her mother’s third husband didn’t get along. Bartholomew (Barty for short) was pompous, overbearing, and at times impossible to live with. He looked like a tall, thin version of Oliver Twist's Fagan. He was tall and lanky, his hair was scraggly and had grown inches below his ears, and he wore glasses that looked like those of Benjamin Franklin. The worst part about him was his “I’m not always right but I’m never wrong” attitude.   It appeared that he also gleaned an immense amount of enjoyment from tormenting Maggie. Everyday at precisely five-forty-five in the evening, Maggie was forced to put a large, leather-bound book on top of her head and keep it there until he saw fit for her to remove it. Most days she would have to don a pair of her mother’s high heeled shoes and walk in them with that ridiculously heavy book on her head. He told her it would teach her how to be graceful. If, for any reason, the book fell off of her head, she would have to start over and often times this maniacal exercise would continue until it was time for her to either make dinner or clean up the dishes afterward.    He was gracious enough to leave her be once the evening chores were completed to his satisfaction.

On this particular afternoon, Barty returned home early from whatever it was that he did to appear busy. Maggie was elbow deep inside another of her books, and she didn’t hear him come in.

“Maggie, I have to talk to you, can you come into the study for a minute?”  It sounded more like a command than a question.

Maggie put down her book, walked slow as she could down the hall, and hesitated before she opened the door to his bedroom-converted, make-shift study.

“You know Maggie, there will be times in your life when things don’t always work out the way you plan them to.”  She looked at him as if to say “yeah, I know EXACTLY what you mean.” However, she didn’t say anything, only giving a sideways smirk as her response.

He gave a short snort and continued.  He loved to hear the sound of his own voice and to ensure that Maggie knew his place, made one final digging remark. 

“Your mother and I have been married for several years now, and I just feel the need to tell you that she loves me more than I do her. It’s not a bad thing necessarily, just a fact. I don’t know if you’re involved with anyone, meaning a boyfriend, but I wanted to say that it’s alright to make choices knowing that they are not your perfect choice.” 

It took everything in her power not to roll her eyes at him and shout “you’re such a pompous a*****e!” Knowing better the consequences of being so bold, she shrugged her shoulders and weighed her words with care.

“No, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

They both heard the car door outside, and as he finished his soliloquy he lowered his voice and said “I know I don’t have to tell you how much it would hurt your mother were you to tell her about our conversation. Let’s just keep it to ourselves, shall we?”

She didn’t give him a response. Instead she turned her back on him, rolled her eyes, and walked away. She took two steps away from the door when he made one more statement.

"By the way, your mother and I have decided that I'm going to legally adopt you. She's changed your last name to Vorelli at school."

If ever there was a time she wished he would drop dead, it was then, but her mother’s arrival home posed much more pressing concerns. Just as she was stepping into her bedroom, her mother’s shrill voice reached her down the hall.

“MAGGIE! MAGGIE! Come here! I have something I need you to do, and please don’t lollygag. Barty and I have to go to rehearsal in a few minutes!”

Maggie rolled her eyes and walked back down the hall she just exited, and greeted her mother with a half hearted kiss on the cheek.

“Yes, mother?"  

“I spoke to Keith and he wants to know if you’ll do him a big favor.” 

Keith was her mother’s best friend.   He was as eccentric as could be and owned the second-hand clothing store next to her mother’s sewing shop. She couldn’t help but smile at the prospect. Maggie and Keith spent a lot of time together and had developed a friendship independent of his relationship with her mother. They spent time drinking tea inside his shop, giggling as they watched the handsome young students walk in front of the shop windows. She couldn't help but think about the time that she and Keith spent the afternoon at the Swap meet rating the men as they walked by. Zero of course was one step away from the missing link, and ten being Sean Connery at any age. 

She giggled out loud at the memory and her mood was instantly elevated.

“Oh! OK. What is it?” 

Reviews

[Jet Lag]

flowing right along. capitalize Sean connery.
i'm reading quickly to get a grasp of the whole.
i like maggie.

[Arthur Henn]

Your imagery and action that keeps this moving smoothly like a movie with the sound of characters. Very impressive.

Like this so far.

[Dezaraye]

Barty seems at best ... weird, really ...

I like the build up here. You make me want to read more. I can empathize with Maggie living in someone else's shadows and not quite belonging.

[Ken Simm.]

Further layers of texture and intrest. We, the reader can empathise with your heroine and so we want to know more. How did she now get from this to the lake? Excellent characterization setting the scene. If this was a film the above would be an establishing shot.