1Paris, France

July 2005

It had been 5 months since that night in Pine Valley when Maggie literally left everything behind in an effort to take back her life. As the days passed, she could feel herself getting a little more control, spending precious time rebuilding a friendship nearly shattered by the events of the past year.

In those ensuing months, she, Bianca and Miranda had done it all. They had visited Notre Dame with its incredible flying buttresses, been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in daylight and at night to enjoy the view of Paris at their feet. With the excuse of introducing Miranda to the incredible art of the Masters, they toured the Louvre on many occasions. While Miranda seemed to be taken with the alabaster marble sculptures like The Winged Victory and the Venus de Milo (though Venus had no arms, and that freaked little Mimo just a bit), none of them could quite grasp the fascination of the Mona Lisa.

They stood for 20 minutes in a room filled with 200 other people, watching those people stare at the painting that sat behind 3 feet of protective glass as though they expected the woman in the sitting there to actually do something. Unable to get any closer than 15 feet away, Bianca and Maggie stood back, heads cocked slightly to the side, two sets of brows knitted in confusion. Yes, it was a beautiful work of art, but please...

"Bianca," Maggie said softly.

"Yeah," came the reply.

"Does anyone realize that there are other paintings in this room?"

Bianca chuckled softly. "I don't think so, no."

"Good grief, I may not know everything, but isn't that Gainsborough's Blue Boy right over there? Everyone's staring at this thing like they expect her to break out in a song."

At that Bianca laughed outright. "That 'thing'," she said, "IS the Mona Lisa, you know. One of the most famous paintings known to man."

"It's a painting of a woman sitting in a chair," Maggie snarkily replied. "And what's with that smile?"

"It's enigmatic."

"That's not enigmatic, that's glum. She was probably sitting there saying to herself: 'are you finished yet? Are you finished? I've been sitting here for 15 freakin' years, are you finished yet?'"

"I knew this whole culture thing wouldn't be lost on you," Bianca replied with a laugh in her voice, grinning down into Maggie's eyes.

That made Maggie grin back as she gave Bianca a sideways look. "That's why you brought me along, isn't it?"

Bianca smiled her own little enigmatic smile as she watched Maggie make her way out into the main hall. "Well," she whispered to herself, "that's not the only reason."

On a particularly beautiful spring day, the three girls visited Sacre Coeur Cathedral in Montmartre. The sparkling white cathedral sits high on a hilltop in the Montmartre district with a spectacular view of Paris and on this day, like on any clear Parisian day, it could be seen from 40 miles away. After taking the tour of the church and then visiting the beautiful smaller church beside it, Saint-Pierre-de-Montmartre which was started in 1134, they strolled through the district of Montmartre, which is famous worldwide for its artists and outdoor cafes.

They visited the Paris Opera House on the Avenue de L'Opera, toured all the elegant boutiques and galleries in The Marais, wandered aimlessly through St. Germain-des-Pres admiring the aristocratic mansions of the 18th century. They walked the Pont Neuf daily, enjoying the pedestrian bridge the crossed the River Seine. They dined at places like Le Petit Cochon (translated meaning The Little Pig), which Maggie thought was particularly funny. They enjoyed an entire day of strolling the grounds of Versailles, making jokes the entire time of how Marie Antionette lost her head over the place...

As the days passed, Maggie slowly found her balance again. Truth be told, her balance had actually begun to return the minute she stepped foot onto the Cambias jet that foggy February night in Pine Valley. And she discovered something that she'd truly known all along, but had kept buried deep inside. From her first days in Pine Valley up until this very moment, Bianca had been her balance. The times when her life seemed to be spiraling out of control where when she and Bianca had fought, or distanced themselves from one another and the happenings of each others lives. Or simply denied their feelings for one another. Now, away from the prying eyes and condescending attitudes of many from Pine Valley, Maggie realized that this was where she belonged. Where she was meant to be, where she needed to be. It was Bianca, and now most certainly Miranda as well, who where her balance. They were her center, her core.

Her world.

Chapter 2

Maggie stood on the balcony of the apartment she shared with Bianca and Miranda, watching the day begin around her. In the early morning sun, cars were already whizzing up and down the broad Avenue Foch below, Parisians were heading to work or taking early morning walks, the scent of a local bakery filled the air. She turned around and leaned up against the balcony railing, crossing her arms over her chest and grinning at the scene before her. Despite the beauty of the events on the street below, watching Bianca feeding little Miranda breakfast was one of her most favorite things. She smiled and thought back to the day they arrived in Paris and came to this place they now called home.

The Cambias driver had picked them up at Charles de Gaulle Airport where international U.S. flights arrive, and driven them into Paris through mid-day traffic. They passed Versailles, crossed over the Seine and caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower before the car turned up the Champs Elysee. Before they reached the Arc de Triomphe, though, he turned and made his way up a wonderfully wide tree-lined street.

"Eh, viola," he said over his shoulder. "Avenue Foch."

They would later discover that the Avenue Foch was the widest avenue in Paris, created in 1854 as passage from the Etoile to the Bois de Boulogne. It was lined along both sides with huge apartments that housed the wealthiest citizens of the city and both sides of the Avenue were lined with parks, giving the impression of quite living while steps beyond the trees a 4-lane street busily hummed.

The Avenue ran straight up to the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs Elysee about 2 miles from the girls' building. It was incredible to be living mere steps away from the most famous street in the world.

Bianca and Miranda's things had been brought separately from the airport so they were able to quickly make their way up to the 6th floor to the apartment that Cambias Industries, Europe, had purchased for the new Chairperson of the Board. Bianca unlocked the front door and pushed it open. She and Maggie walked through the marble entryway and then came to a sudden and complete stop.

Bianca gasped. "Holy…."

"…shit," Maggie breathed.

Bianca gave Maggie a solid nudge with her shoulder. "Watch your mouth, Stone," she admonished, glancing down at Miranda.

"Oh, sorry," Maggie replied. Then she grinned. "Holy Merde."

"Maggie!" Bianca exclaimed, trying hard to fight back a laugh. She knelt down beside Miranda to hide her amusement. "Please…"

The baby, for her part, was happily chewing on her fist, taking in her new surroundings with ever-drooping eyes. "Oh, come on, B," Maggie said, watching the dark-haired girl fuss over her daughter. "We're Americans living in France. She's going to learn both English and French cusswords. It's only natural that the munchkin is going to be bi-." Bianca's head snapped up. "-lingual."

Bianca eyed Maggie's evil grin. "Very funny, Stone, very funny. You know, talk like that would absolutely give my mother heart failure."

"Hmm, interesting. I shall file that away for future reference."

"Please don't, because I think she actually likes you. I'd hate for her to eventually have you killed."

"Okay, okay, I'll be good."

"Well, now," Bianca replied with an evil grin of her own, "I didn't say that." She smiled down at Miranda, having left Maggie speechless for a moment. "Let's check out our new home, what do you say, honey?" she cooed to her daughter.

They stepped into a two-story apartment that would be better considered a mansion. Four thousand square feet, 5 bedrooms, 4 and a half baths, a gourmet kitchen, formal sitting and dining rooms and the balcony over-looking Paris. The informal den had a plasma screen TV and all the bells and whistles of a home theatre, including an endless supply of DVD's. They also discovered they had satellite TV and more channels than they would ever want to watch.

"Think we could pick up WRCW on that thing?" Maggie asked with a smirk.

"Probably not," Bianca responded with a chuckle, "but I'll bet we could find Hayley's show if we looked hard enough."

To Bianca's relief, she noticed that 2 of the bedrooms were on the opposite side of the apartment from the master suite that featured an attached smaller bedroom that would be Miranda's. She'd give Erica her choice of those two rooms to do with as she pleased, as long as she didn't expect to be sleeping across the hall from her daughter and granddaughter.

Maggie pushed open the heavy door to the master suite, then whistled. Dominated in light colors and huge dark furniture and with what were probably original works of art on the walls, the room featured a giant four-poster bed that looked as though it belonged in a queen's sleep chamber. Covered in pillows and a thick down comforter, the top of the bed appeared to be 4 feet above the floor.

"I don't know about you, Binks," Maggie began, "but I'd be really wary of any bed that requires a staircase to get into." She motioned to the small set of steps beside the bed. "Not to mention how hard it's going to be for Miranda to get up there with you when she starts crawling out of her bed to get into yours."

"Oh, I think she'll figure it out," Bianca replied, giving Miranda a little squeeze. "Won't you, sweetie?" The only response a little gurgle, as Miranda had finally succumbed to sleep. "Well, okay, then. How about we put you down for a little nap?" An open door inside the suite led to Miranda's room, which was totally done in Disney characters, most notably Winnie the Pooh. While Maggie leaned against the door jamb and watched, Bianca changed Miranda into a sleeper and put her down in her crib. Then she leaned in and kissed her daughter on the forehead. "Sleep well, baby." She turned to find Maggie had silently moved to stand next to her. "I think she's out."

"Yeah, a little jet-lag, I think." Maggie leaned in to add her kiss to Miranda's brow. "I think it's starting to hit me, too," she murmured, trying not to yawn.

"I know, I feel like a just hit the wall. Um, there's the spare bedroom across the hall, if you want to lie down."

Maggie grinned at Bianca and kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks, I think I'll do that." With that, she started out of the room, trying to stifle yet another yawn. "Sweet dreams, B."

"Mags?" Bianca said softly, turning away shyly. "That room over there is yours if you want it, you know. I mean, I don't want to put any pressure on you, but, well, just so you know…"

"Thanks, Bianca. I think I might just take you up on that, okay?" Maggie paused and grinned shyly back. "I think- I think I'd like to stick close to my girls."

As Maggie slipped out of the room, Bianca smiled to herself. Just like that, this house became a home.

From that day forward, a routine of sorts was established. Maggie would rise at the break of dawn (which at first scared the bejeebers out of Bianca because Maggie was not known as an early, or particularly happy, riser) and take an early morning run. Each day was the same, a run up the Avenue to the Arc de Triomphe, across the Champs Elysee and down to a small bakery she had found one morning. She would buy croissant, brioche and palmieres, then make the return run back, trying to keep her hand out of the paper bag she carried. She would shout a "Bon jour!" to the old couple she passed every morning, and they would smile and wave back.

Up six flights of stairs and into the apartment Maggie would run, straight into the kitchen to start the coffee brewing. By this time, Miranda would be awake, and occasionally Bianca would be, too, but not that frequently. Maggie would find Miranda lying in her crib, playing with her own feet and talking to herself. After a few moments together, she would quietly take her in to Bianca's room, settling her on the bed so she could find her way to her momma. Then they would end up on the balcony, having breakfast, talking and enjoying the perfect start to their day.

"What are you thinking?" Bianca's voice broke into Maggie's thoughts, bringing her back to the present.

"Did you know there are 2, count 'em 2, McDonald's up there on the Champs Elysee?" Maggie replied, shaking her head. "Sacrilege." She paused. "Actually, I was thinking about your reaction to this place when you opened the door for the first time," she answered honestly.

"Please, me?" Bianca replied, laughing. "You're the one who put a wholly expletive filled description out on the place."

Maggie's eyebrows shot up. "Expletive filled! It was one word! One!" She held up her index finger to make her point.

"Yes, but it's seemingly become your favorite word. I swear to God, Stone, if Miranda's first word is-"

"-Watch it!-"

"-I'll tell my mother what you taught her granddaughter!"

"Oh, wow, now that's a threat."

"And don't you forget it."

Maggie winked at Bianca and stole a croissant, making faces at Miranda as she ate. Man, her heart felt good again. She grinned again, then started for the door, stopping to pinch Miranda's chubby little cheek, which earned her a delighted squeal. On impulse, she gave Bianca a kiss on the top of her head then slipped inside, heading for the shower.

Bianca let go of a sigh that she'd been holding in all morning. It's the same sigh she breathes every day after Maggie heads in to take her morning shower. This time away from Pine Valley, from Jonathan, from pressure, have given Maggie her life back, for which Bianca would be forever grateful. That her best friend was back, and slowly becoming the woman she once had been, was a prayer answered in Bianca's mind.
While Miranda chattered to herself, Bianca smiled and nibbled on her brioche and let her mind wander. She thought about the people here in this country. The French were a touchy-feely people, outwardly demonstrative with their affections. Women walked down the street holding hands or with their arms interlocked. Men kissed each other hello on the cheek. Everyone hugged everyone else, patted cheeks, touched each others hair. And this was certainly not lost on Bianca, nor on Maggie.

As time had passed, they had fallen back into that very familiar state in their friendship. The place where touching, hugging and friendly pecks on the cheek were the norm. It felt really good again. It was wonderful to have her Maggie back