Disclaimer: All My Children was a wonderful show that I did not own. If not, it would still be on the air!
Authors Note: I wrote this story at the end of 2004, when I was seventeen and just recently found it on an old thumb drive. As you can expect, the quality of the writing is not the greatest. However, with the ending of All My Children this past year, I wanted to contribute to this page one more time. In all honesty, I have not watched All My Children since the same time, due to school and work. However, in the summer of 2004 (during the time of the Michael Cambias murder), AMC was a huge part of my life, and brought my mom, sister, grandma and me together once a day to watch it together.
I hope the quality of the writing, the juvenile nature of the plot, and the divergence from the actual plot of AMC can be forgiven as one old fan's contribution to commemorating a show that was part of so many people's lives.
New Years '05
J.R. Chandler sat at the mahogany bar, near the back wall of the dance club at the corner of 6th and Main in Pine Valley. The shot in his hand was still full, though it wouldn't be for long if he kept tapping the glass against the bar. The expensive liquid sloshed against the sides of the glass, closer and closer to spilling over the sides with each impatient collision with the wood
The bar tender had long since left him along. The club was too busy to spend the night waiting on one lonely patron who was too lost in contemplation to drink.
Throwing his head back, J.R. downed his shot with his good arm and slammed the glass down for good measure. For a moment he feared it might break in his hand, leaving him with two bad arms instead of just one. He glanced down at his left arm, currently bound in a sling, signatures of family and friends lining the white plaster that ran from his fingers to his elbow. A familiar buzz ran through him- this may have been the first shot he purchased, but he'd downed a significant amount of bourbon before he even left his mansion.
Releasing the glass, he ran a hand through his disheveled blonde hair. It was long now, and fell into his eyes. Stubble lined his chin, his appearance ruddy due to lack of care. It was sad, almost pathetic. Here he was, ending 2004 at rock bottom.
How the hell had it come to this?
It had been two months since he and Babe signed the last of the legal documents and finalized their divorce. By the time she and her lousy, conniving mother left town, it was nearly Christmas. He couldn't say he was heartbroken. After discovering all the lies she told, he found that he could not even think about her without wanting to puke. He could feel nothing, not even sympathy, for a girl who had just lost all the wealth and power humankind had known. Her return to poverty… well, good riddance. He didn't need her.
Not only had Babe ruined his life, but his family's as well. His father constantly gloated about his victory over J.R.'s poor judgement. He had finally proven tht Babe's child was not J.R.'s. A paternity test after little Junior's birth had confirmed that Jamie was the father. And when Babe disappeared with the little boy, Jamie ran away to find them. It was a few short weeks later they discovered the baby had been put up for adoption, and that Babe used her precious platinum card to hide the details. Now Jamie was caught in a legal battle to get his son back, one that J.R. had been funding in hopes of garnering some sort of forgiveness from his brother.
And as if he needed an extra layer of guilt, Tad lost his relationship with both Simone and Liza because sluttish Krystal drove them away in her crusade to hide Babe's annulment papers.
You had to trust her, J.R. chided himself. He'd broken up his family by trusting a woman he'd known for a day.
Not that Babe was the cause of all his trauma's that year. As head of Chandler Enterprises, he'd nearly destroyed the company. Then he landed in jail after being caught aiding Kendall and Boyd when they tried to escape the country and possible prosecution in the Michael Cambias case. And to top it all off, while striking a business deal with Juan Pablo Ruiz Renato de Vasquez, he'd been shot in the upper arm by Argentinean terrorists.
No this certainly hadn't been his year.
The ringing bells barely registered above the music as the door of the nightclub smashed open, hitting an unoccupied stool. Maggie Stone stood still in the doorway, just short of entering the building. She wore a cranberry-colored corduroy skirt that just reached her knees, where it met black leather stiletto boots. Her shirt was a thin tank top with lace trim.
Outside a car skidded on a patch of ice, then drove off. "Yeah! That's what you get loser!" Maggie hollered back out the door. As a breeze caressed her shoulder, she realized she no longer had her jacket. "Hey moron! Get back here with my jacket!"
J.R. watched in amazement. This wasn't the Maggie he was used to. Although she was outspoken, she was typically pretty calm and a rational. Since Bianca had left for "Europe" (she was actually hiding out in Guatemala) and he left Babe, he and Maggie had whiled away quite a few hours drinking and talking about their dismal situations.
In fact, the first time they met, it had been at this very club, where Maggie was getting herself drunk. Having some shred of gentleman left in him, he joined her and paid for her drinks the rest of the night. Neither left sober, and when he checked his wallet the next morning, he was certain the bartender had overcharged him on the last drinks. It was a miracle they both got home in one piece- and that they hadn't done anything stupid.
Maggie approached the bar, taking the seat next to him. "Hey," she said glumly. "Glad I'm not the only one here alone on New Year's Eve."
"Yep," he replied simply, downing another shot. Sliding the empty glass down the bar, he signaled to the par tender to bring two more. "Whisky okay?"
She shrugged, flipping her hair behind her ears. "God I can't wait for the New Year to come so all this friggen hoopla dies down."
"Hoopla?" J.R. asked, letting out a bitter laugh.
Maggie shot him a glare that immediately stopped any trace of laughter. "What happened this time, Mags?" he asked with a sigh. Poor kid had had nothing but problems since Bianca disappeared.
In his desperate attempt to reunite with Anna, her cousin David had gone to Paris, leaving her without any family. Then Bianca and Lena left for Guatemala without a word, leaving Maggie reeling, and essentially friendless. Less than a week later, she was turned down for a prized internship at Pine Valley hospital, adding insult to injury.
"Well, this guy asked me out for New Years," Maggie explained. "I really didn't like him, but it was either that or stay home alone. He picked me up, and we'd just hit Main Street when he started badmouthing Bianca, about how she just up and disappeared. Anyways, I started defending her- I mean, she is my best friend. He freaked, and started yelling about how I was the worst date ever, and how I should stop defending Bianca because she obviously didn't give a damn about any of us here in Pine Valley. How she clearly didn't want me around, that Lena meant more to her. So I took a stiletto to the side of his car and left a nice little dent. Then he drove off with my jacket."
"You never were one to let a good chance for revenge pass you by," J.R. replied casually, as if getting revenge was his every thought, but never was able to carry through with the plans. He reached for the newly filled shot glass. Maggie gently put a hand over his.
"Stop. You'll never get yourself home tonight If you keep this up. What's the matter?"
"Oh, just destroying my family's life. As usual."
Maggie sighed inwardly, laying the conversation to rest. J.R. blamed himself for every problem that crossed his family since Babe's arrival. He wouldn't listen to anyone who said he wasn't the guilty party. To her it was a tragedy in and of itself. J.R. had thought he was in love- but hadn't they all at one time or another? They were young, still allowed to make mistakes. Yet he never allowed himself to. All she could do was be a supportive friend.
They sat silently at the bar, shots left untouched before them. She diverted her attention towards the dance floor, watching a couple slow dance. J.R. saw where she was looking. "Wanna dance, Maggie?"
She berated herself for being so obvious. "Um, sure."
He took her hand in his and led her to the dance floor. Wrapping his good arm around Maggie's waist, he pulled her close to him. "Never danced with one arm," he muttered to her. Maggie laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck.
She liked being near him. It wasn't the skeevy feeling that came with dancing with a stranger. Brushing it off, she told herself it was because they were such good friends.
"Why are you so angry at her?" J.R. asked quietly as they danced.
"What are you talking about?" Maggie asked.
"You're obviously angry at Bianca. I was wondering why." He shrugged it off as if his question was no big deal.
"I am not!" she cried, pulling away from him.
"You're afraid that she'll choose Lena over you." Her face dropped as she heard the depressing truth. "You're paranoid that you'll lose Bianca because her love for Lena is more important than her friendship with you. You're angry she trusted Lena to run away with her over you."
Maggie stared at him for a moment, angry at his accusations. She promptly turned and walked out of the club. For a moment, J.R. stood along on the dance floor, slightly dazed at the happenings. Realizing she'd rushed into the freezing cold Pennsylvania night with no jacket, he grabbed his own off the bar stool and followed her.
Jogging down the street, he caught up with her a block up from the club. "What did I do?"
"You were right" Maggie said, turning to look at him. Her eyes were filled with tears.
He wanted to make a joke, but held it in. "About what?" he asked instead, trying to be gentle.
"I am angry that she chose Lena. Bianca's been my best friend for years, and she's all I have. David left for Anna, and she was the only person I had left. The only person I've spent time with except you. We were going to go through all of this together, but Lena came back. Now they're together, and I'm alone, and it's not fair!"
Her puffy eyes couldn't hold back the tears anymore. He pulled her close to him, letting her cry on his shoulder. Although it was hard with one arm, he somehow managed to wrap his jacket around her as she sobbed. After a few minutes, she pulled away slightly, wiping her eyes.
"Wow. That was sad. Pathetic, actually. There are bigger problems than me. I'm being self centered—"
"It's not stupid Maggie. There's no law in this world saying you can't be angry with her. But you don't have to face it alone." He paused, feeling awkward. But another feeling coursed through him- one of opportunity. They were both broken. Maybe they could fix each other? "You have me."
Slowly he moved in, brushing his lips over her's. When she didn't pull away, he pulled her in closer, kissing her deeply.
Cheer rang out from the club, where they'd sat a few minutes before. Couples shared kisses, as did complete strangers. The DJ raised the volume on Auld Lang Syne, and everyone sang along off-key. It was a new year: 2005. They could take it or leave it.
But for two people standing outside in the cold, a warmth had enveleoped them like a blanket.
This could be their year.
