With a sigh, Maggie closes her laptop with a snap and looks out the window of the coffee shop. It's still raining and the forecast doesn't look like it's going to let up any time soon. With a grumble, she finishes off the dregs of her decaffeinated café mocha and slips the laptop back in its case.
She's exposed herself. She knew it was inevitable, but she just hopes that she's being paranoid and that no one is actually looking for her. Maybe they haven't discovered that she's gone yet. It's a futile hope, she knows, but it's all she has left. She wouldn't really be surprised if there is a welcoming committee waiting for her when she gets there, but then again, there's always hope.
She checks her watch and sees that she had better hurry. She gathers her belongings and goes to catch her train. Once she's settled into her private compartment, she just stares out the window and watches the rain wash down the glass.
She's tired: physically, emotionally, and spiritually. He doesn't love her. That much she's knows, but it still hurts. Every time she thinks about him it's like someone grabs a hold of her heart and squeezes. She's shed so many tears that she's fairly sure they could float the Queen Mary in them.
If it weren't for the two lives living inside of her, she's fairly sure she wouldn't be strong enough to carry on. For them she has spent nearly two weeks as she's crisscrossed the continental US trying to get the courage up to do what needs to be done. Maybe when she gets settled she'll email her family to let them know where she is.
With a sigh, she leans her head against the side of the window and watches as the world starts to roll by once more. She plays with her rings that hang from a necklace around her neck as the ventilation system blows her shortened hair into her face. She doesn't care as a new wave of emotional pain sweeps over her and the tears come once more.
Nearly eleven hours later, the train jerks to a stop as it pulls into the San Francisco station. With a groan and a sigh, she gathers her bags and leaves the train. The cold wind and rain slam into her with a nasty force, but she simply lowers her head and trudges on.
After eating a quick lunch, she acquires a taxi whose driver is willing to drive her where she needs to go. First she instructs him to head for the offices of the Pacific Gas and Electric Company there in San Francisco to get the gas and electricity turned back on. Then it's up to Corte Madera to the Marin Municipal Water District to get the water flowing again. When that is accomplished, she instructs the driver to Mill Valley: to home.
Some time later, the cab pulls up to an old eight foot high gate. While it has stopped raining, the wind is still blowing something fierce under the dark clouds that hang over their heads. She gets out and unlocks the gate with both her key and Power. The cabbie gets out and helps her push the gates open. They loudly protest their movement, but move they eventually do.
Once that's done, they both climb back into the car and he starts to go up the drive of her childhood home. The pavement is cracked and weeds are growing up in those cracks. The house cannot be seen since large weeping willow trees line the long drive, blocking the view and give the place a rather creepy look. They slowly drive past the trees as the wind whips the branches around causing them to occasionally hit the side of the cab. The fact that there was no one waiting at the gate gives her new hope that they're going to leave her alone. After all, it's not like he's going to bother looking for her.
They come around a bend and finally clear the trees allowing the house to come into full view. The cabbie lets out a low appreciative whistle and she smiles knowingly. Even though the front yard and planter boxes are all choked with weeds, the walls are in desperate need of paint and the grimy windows are dark, it's still a very impressive house.
"My father had this house built for my mother," she explains. "He based it on the house from her favorite movie: 'Gone With The Wind.'"
"Wow," is all he can say.
They pull up to the front door and she gets out so that she can open the front door as he gets her bags out of the trunk. He brings them into the foyer as she turns on the entrance way light and sighs with relief. Not only is the electricity on, but there are bulbs in the light fixtures. As he plops the bags down a cloud of dust rises from the floor.
"Guess I have my work cut out for me," she observes as the particles get blown around the entry way with the wind coming in through the door.
"How long has it been since anyone's lived here?" he asks as he checks out the marble floor, columns and staircase that make up the echoing chamber.
"Twenty-three years," she answers. "I was nine when I left."
The driver just nods and then tells her what the fair is. She pays it with a sizable tip and the cabbie thanks her before dashing back out to his car. As he starts to drive away, it begins to rain again.
She closes the door and begins to drag one of her bags up the stairs. Once at the top of the steps she heads for her old bedroom. She opens the door and a wave nostalgia comes over her. The memory of how her room used to be brings a shock to see it as it is now. The walls are bare of the posters and pictures that used to hang there, the furniture is all gone and there doesn't seem to be any evidence that anyone ever lived here.
She pulls her wheeled bag into the room and sets it in the corner near the door to her closet. She goes back downstairs and starts to move the rest of the bags into the empty laundry room. She had started this little adventure with only one small bag packed with a few days worth of clothing, but as she traveled she bought more clothing and in turn, ended up buying more luggage.
Just before the last bag can make the journey to the back of the house, the sound of a large diesel engine reaches her ears. She opens the front door to find a delivery truck from the grocery store pulling up. Her stomach growls reminding her that it's been some time since she's eaten. After the delivery is made, she quickly makes herself a snack.
It's a good thing she does because just as she's finishing, the next delivery truck arrives. The rest of the afternoon is spent dealing with cleaning certain areas of the house, delivery people and installers. By the time the last truck leaves, it's full on dark and she's wiped out.
She goes back to the kitchen and pulls open the refrigerator door and gets out a carton of milk and pours herself a glass. Her gaze passes over the new appliances next to the freshly scrubbed counters and floor and sighs. She hopes that she's made the right choice and then one of the twins' moves, causing the other to wake. She runs a hand over her belly and sends soothing energy down to them, knowing that she did right. Then she glances through the laundry door at the new washer and dryer and makes a mental note to do laundry tomorrow.
As she sits on a recently purchased step stool, her body cools down from all the running around and work she's been doing and she shivers. She puts the empty glass down and then goes through the delivery boxes until she finds the logs made of compressed sawdust and a box of matches. She puts the first one in the fireplace in the parlor, opens the flue, lights the log and then puts the fire screen in front of the fireplace. The pilot light for the furnace won't be lit until tomorrow so the fire will have to do until then.
There's a fireplace in the master bedroom, but she doesn't feel comfortable sleeping in her parent's old room. Fortunately, the parlor is directly below her bedroom and the heat will eventually make its way up there. For now, she can at least take a hot shower. Half an hour later she crawls into bed, her skin still pink from the shower. She gets comfortable and then cries herself to sleep.
The next morning she wakes to the sound of one of the branches from the old oak tree taping on her window. There are no curtains on the widows yet so there's nothing stopping the weak morning light from filling the room. She pulls the covers over her head and tries to go back to sleep, but certain pressing needs force her to drag herself out of her bed.
She instantly regrets putting her feet on the floor and moves as quickly as she can to the bathroom. After she's finished, she quickly puts on a robe and slippers before heading for the kitchen. She's not feeling quite right but she attributes this to hunger and all of the activity from yesterday. She puts the kettle on and gets out a bowl and a mug for her oatmeal and tea, hoping that after breakfast she'll feel better.
When she's done eating, she gets off of the stool and goes to put her dirty dishes in the sink. She drops the bowl and mug just shy of the sink, shattering them on the marble floor. She gasps, holding onto the edge of the counter, trembling as a full blown contraction hits. She slowly collapses onto the floor as pain tears through her body. She doesn't even notice the broken shards beneath her, cutting into her flesh.
Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to the Queen Mary, PG&E or the Marin Municipal Water District.Author's note: The Queen Mary is a luxury cruise liner that has been turned into a floating restaurant, hotel and tourist trap and is currently docked in Long Beach, California. It is supposed to be the most haunted ship in the world. I'll put a link to the site on my author's page case any one is interested in it.