Maggie

When Maggie opened the door to her parent's house the next afternoon, she heard piano music coming from the back room. That wasn't a strange occurrence, since she had grown up listening to her father play piano. The odd thing was, it was someone decidedly not her father playing- this person was obviously inexperienced, playing with childlike carefulness. She remembered that her father had intended to pick up a few students to supplement their income, so she snuck back to get a peek at the cute little kid learning piano for the first time. What she found when she turned the corner was not what she expected at all.

Mr. Thornton sat next to her father at the piano bench, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tapped away at the piano keys. He was so focused that he didn't notice Maggie in the doorway. Mr. Hale, however, did.

"Maggie! You're back from the store. Perfect, come meet my first pupil! This is John Thornton. John, this is my daughter, Maggie." At Mr. Hale's exclamation, Mr. Thornton startled and looked up from the piano. Maggie stood frozen in the doorway as Mr. Thornton and her father stood up from the piano and crossed the room to greet her. She reluctantly took the hand that Thornton held out to her, noticing how strong and warm his handshake was, as he said with a half smile "it's nice to finally be introduced." Dropping her hand, he turned to Mr. Hale, "I'm afraid your daughter and I are already somewhat acquainted, under less than pleasant circumstances."

That broke the spell. "Less than pleasant? I saw you brawling in your own bar and kick a man while he was already down! Not to mention the.."

"Gun?" He interrupted. "A man brought a gun into the concert, then proceeded to drink too much and get into an altercation with another very drunk person. I was angry, but I do what I must to protect The Mill." His voice held some strange emotion, one she was too angry to bother reading.

The scene was replaying itself in Maggie's mind, and she shuddered. "That sounds more like a job for the police than a businessman. I don't believe you should be taking the law into your own hands," she snapped.

John gave a humorless laugh. "If I had waited an hour or more for the police to arrive, people could have died, and the ensuing chaos would leave many more injured. Have you ever been trapped in a room full of panicking people? As a businessman it's my job to make sure that doesn't happen," he said, closing his eyes briefly as if reliving some long past memory. Sighing, he turned towards Mr. Hale. "My mother will bring Faith by to trial a lesson later this week, though I'm afraid she's not quite enthusiastic about the idea."

"Oh yes, yes, um, that would be just fine," Mr. Hale stuttered. "I think she's just a few years younger than Maggie, and I'm sure she'd love to get to know her as well, isn't that right Maggie?" He said, looking over to her. She just raised her eyebrows, unwilling to make any more contributions to this awkward conversation. Mr. Hale coughed, "well then, John, we can continue next week with Beethoven."

With one last glance toward Maggie, John nodded. "That sounds good. I'll see you next week, Mr. Hale. Thank you," he said as he walked out of the room, leaving Maggie and her father looking angry and uncomfortable, respectively.

John

He had been thinking about the girl since that night. It was frustrating, to not be in control of his own mind. As an adult, John made it a point in life to be in control as much as possible. The natural consequence of spending one's childhood tossed about like a leaf in the wind, at the whimsy of the world, with no say in your own future. So to be unable to focus on his work, arguably the most important part of his life, made John extremely agitated. Instead of returning the call of an important booking agent, he found himself thinking about the look in the girl's eyes. They weren't full of fear, as you'd expect. There was something else; anger, courage, maybe defiance. Whatever it was, it took a lot of moxie to intervene in a bar fight.

As the time ticked by, his mind strayed to the curve of her lips, the brief glance he'd seen of her hips in tight black skinny jeans… "Jesus!" He grumbled as he pushed the chair away from the desk, glancing at his watch. It was already 1:30, and he'd wasted away half the day with this nonsense. It was time to go anyway, or else he'd be late for his appointment.

What better than classical piano to cool his thoughts? He offered a silent thanks to his investor, Mr. Bell, who had arranged a meeting with an instructor who had recently moved to town. John had been wanting to resume piano lessons ever since he was a teenager, but it seemed something always came up to prevent it. So, when Mr. Bell mentioned that his old college buddy had relocated and was looking for a few pupils to occupy his time and supplement his income, John took it as a sign. Not that he believed in signs, but it was as good an excuse as any.

Mrs. Thornton, of course, didn't see the appeal or the reason. John's mother was practical to a fault, and she didn't see the point of her successful, handsome son wasting valuable time on "the arts" when he could be working or, better yet, finding a wife. Maybe if the piano instructor was an equally successful and beautiful young lady, she would have a different opinion. As it stood, she didn't approve of the reportedly old and washed up yankee composer with a sickly wife and an undoubtedly snobby daughter. They were all like that in her mind, the northerners.

John was able to put a stop to that argument by suggesting that Faith also give piano lessons a try. He didn't think they would stick, but his mother was always willing to try something to make Faith more appealing and well rounded. If they could convince her to have some interest beyond frat boys and fashion magazines, they'd claim a success. John had grown up with almost nothing, so he wanted to give his baby sister everything. Now he and his mother were reaping the unfortunate rewards of that mistake.

So, to Mr. Hale's he would go. The short drive he spent warring with his mind, a fight between thoughts of the mystery girl and his own attempts at focusing on the music he had playing for inspiration. He parked in front of the small house in the slightly rundown neighborhood that almost reminded him of the place he lived as a child. Before things changed for the better, then changed for the worse. With that impression, he was finally able to shake loose the thoughts of those haunting defiant eyes, as he walked up to knock on the faded door.

The door was opened by a small man, with a kind face that was somehow familiar. "Welcome! Come in, come in, you must be John! I'm Richard, and this is my wife, Maria," he exclaimed, shaking John's hand then gesturing to a pale woman sitting in a recliner in the front room. She gave a small wave and a weak smile, before returning her attention to the scarf she was knitting. Mr. Hale led John to the back of the house, chatting as they went.

"Please forgive the mess, Maria hasn't quite had the strength to fully unpack yet. Thankfully our daughter has recently come down to help us out, poor girl, though she has her own reasons for being here," he was saying, motioning to some boxes in the corner. John noticed that the house was sparsely furnished, with drab taupe walls and almost no personal touches as of yet. He silently hoped this daughter if theirs would really be able to spruce the place up. It didn't seem like the kind of place that would be good for a sickly person, as he understood Mrs. Hale to be.

It was a relief for John to have his mind occupied once more by the simplicity of music and learning. He was surprised at how quickly his fingers remembered the movements on the keys, how easy it was for him to pick back up almost where he left off years ago. The hour lesson time passed quickly, and as they neared the end he had already decided he quite liked Mr. Hale. It was with this thought as he ran through his scales one last time, that someone walked through the doorway.

John was startled out of his concentration by Mr. Hales voice. "Maggie!" He heard the smile in the older man's voice as he turned to greet his daughter. That's all he heard; as soon as he looked up from the piano, a roaring started in his ears and he felt as if the whole world tilted just slightly. He numbly stood up as Mr. Hale introduced him to his daughter, pinpricks of ice racing up his fingertips and he reached out his hand to her. The warmth of her hand in his suddenly grounded him, and he managed to finally choke out a few words and an awkward smile.

Snap out of it, Thornton, you're better than this, he thought to himself. For someone that didn't believe in signs, the universe sure was throwing a lot at him at the moment. It was unfortunate that he and the musician's daughter seemed doomed to misunderstand each other. Their brief, volatile conversation left him reeling, fighting off demons that he had spent his whole life trying to forget. He had to get out of there, out of the house that seemed a shadow of former homes, away from the girl determined to make him remember, back to the work he used to make himself forget.

Somehow he managed politeness to Mr. Hale, hoping that the awkwardness of the situation was mainly in his own mind, before striding quickly out the room and through the house, nodding to Mrs. Hale as he walked out the door. Once outside, he took a deep breath of stale, humid air and tried to shake the feeling that his life was about to spiral out of his control once more.

Maggie

When they heard the front door close, Mr. Hale turned to his daughter. "Now Magpie, I'd really appreciate it if you made an effort to be kind to John's sister, Faith. From what I gather she hasn't had the easiest life, and it would be good for you to make some friends here if you plan on staying."

"I already have friends here, dad," she argued, "Becca and her brother, Nick. Besides, if Faith is anything like her brother, I don't think we'll get along at all any way. But I'll at least try to be here when she comes for her lesson, if only to make you happy." But she didn't have to be happy about it herself.

Mr. Hale decided to not press his luck any further at the moment, so he kept silent on the subject. For now. He readily took Maggie's suggestion of a snack, and she was glad that the conversation had been dropped so easily. She went to unload the groceries she had picked up, since her mother was feeling weak this morning and wasn't up to going out. Of course Maggie didn't mind running errands for her parents and helping them out; that was one of the reasons she had decided to come, after all.

But she had intended to do some errands of her own, like finding her own place, and looking for a job since it seemed Becca's first lead wouldn't work out. Instead she had overslept, woken up to find almost no food in the house, and her mother already having a mid-morning nap in her recliner. So, she snagged the grocery list off the side table, tucked the blanket around her mom's legs, and headed out to the store.

The day was already shaping up to be a scorcher, even though it wasn't even lunch time. Maggie had learned from her mistake last night and put on shorts that morning. While that was a good choice, her legs were already damp moments after stepping out of the door. Whether that was from sweat or from the moisture of the air itself, she wasn't sure. She was sure, however, that this southern summer air was not going to be kind to her curly hair. She could already feel the dampness building along her hairline, encouraging the curls that she had painstakingly straightened that morning.

Thankfully she had driven her own car down. It was a long, lonely drive down the east coast, one that had given her way too much time to think about her life choices and the mess she left behind in Boston. But her parents had already warned her that she would definitely need a car in this new city, so she had her cousin Eden drive her to their home in the country, where her car was stored while she lived in the city with Eden and her fiancé. She tried not to think about the new family living in her childhood home, which her parents had rented out when they moved south.

Maggie was thankful for the groceries now, as it gave her a perfect excuse to leave her father in his music room and head to the kitchen, where she could be alone with her thoughts as she whipped up a snack. Tomorrow, she was meeting Becca and Nick for lunch. She was hopeful that they would be able to help her with setting up her new life here. It was even more important for her to find her own place, now, since she couldn't imagine being subject to John Thornton's presence one or more times a week, not to mention the promised presence of his sister and mother.

No, she needed a job, another place to crash, and the ability to avoid the tall, handsome, irritating stranger that had decided to invade her thoughts. It's a big city, she thought, how hard can it be to avoid one person? With that, she brushed off the encounter and decided to go on with her day as if nothing had happened. Of course, this was easier said than done. But she was a grown woman, she could handle it.