Maggie
There was nothing better to take her mind off things than girl time. Becca also needed some friend therapy, after the events of the last few weeks. So, the two of them sat in Becca's room, trying out hairstyles and looking through a box of Maggie's old accessories.
"Lord, I've never seen such a fancy pair of glasses. How do I look?" Becca struck a pose in the candy apple red sunglasses that Henry had bought several years back. She looked fabulous, the color perfectly highlighting her naturally pale complexion.
Maggie examined her friend with a smile before saying, "They look better on you than they ever did on me. Keep them."
Quickly pulling off the glasses, Becca shook her head. "Don't be ridiculous. What would I do with something so snazzy?"
"Come on, Becca, I probably only worn those once. They'll be going to Good Will if you don't take them."
Becca rolled her eyes in response. "Alright, alright. Though I'll be afraid too afraid to lose them to wear them out." She closed the glasses and put them aside on the nightstand.
"So," Maggie said, working up the nerve to broach the subject she'd been wondering about since she arrived. "What's Nick up to today?"
The sadness that came into Becca's eyes was heartbreaking. "Oh, you know, he's been having a hard time since the riot. He thought they were making such good progress, too." She leaned back against the headboard and glanced out the window, avoiding Maggie's gaze.
"Has everything gone back to normal, then?" Things had been quiet, making Maggie wonder if it really was just that easy, if everyone could just return to business as usual.
Becca sighed. "I think they sort of gave up, after everything that happened at Thornton's. The idiots. I don't know what they thought would happen, gathering in the streets like that, throwing stones at innocent bystanders."
The blush that came into Maggie's cheeks went thankfully unnoticed by her friend. "I'm sure it wasn't as dramatic as the news made it seem," she said, looking away.
"They're lucky it wasn't worse! And Nick is so angry about it all… I wish I knew where he was." She couldn't stop the tears this time, swiping at them angrily. "I've never seen him like this, Maggie. I'm worried what he might be up to, what he might do."
Maggie didn't have any words of comfort; she just grabbed her friend's hand while they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
John
The phones had been ringing all day after the news had spread. Promoters and bands across the country were taking John's side when they heard the story of the violent mob, and how bravely John had stood against them. The riot effectively changed the tides in favor of the owners, and bookings were streaming in. The Mill's calendar was filling up with bands adding last minute shows to their tours.
"It looks like things will be picking up again," Hannah Thornton said, looking over her son's shoulder at the schedule he was working on. John just nodded absently, absorbed in his work, the sudden influx of business a welcome distraction for his personal life failings. "What about the promotion?"
John finally put down his pen and turned his attention to his mother. "It did the job. I put a cap on the number available, or there would be no tickets left for anyone else."
Sitting down, Mrs. Thornton snorted. "It would serve them right if we refused to sell tickets to anyone involved in the boycott."
There was no answer from John in that regard. Instead he stood up and walked over to where his mother was sitting. "I was right, by the way," he said softly. "Maggie doesn't want anything to do with me."
She looked up at him with a furrowed brow, unsure of whether to be pleased for herself or sad for her obviously heartbroken son. "You didn't have anything to worry about after all. No one cares about me except you." He gave her hand a squeeze before turning to leave the room.
Instead of letting go, she tugged him back so he would kneel beside her. "A mother's love never changes. Girls are flighty, their feelings changing with the slightest wind," she said, knowing it wasn't much comfort.
"I always knew that I wasn't good enough for her, but I'd hoped…" he said, blinking quickly. "It doesn't make sense, but now I think I love her more than ever.
Mrs. Thornton frowned. "Well, I hate her!" She said with more feeling than she showed for most things. "I tried not to if she really could have made you happy."
Standing up, John paced the floor but didn't answer. "I'd give anything for that, for you to be happy," his mother continued, "Who is she, to think she's too good for a man like you?"
"Don't." He didn't want to hear any more.
She stood up too, thinking he needed to hear what she had to say whether he liked it or not. "It's too late, John. When you hurt, I hurt. And since you won't hate her for this, I will. Someone has to."
Putting his hands on the window frame, John stared out into the darkness a moment, gathering his temper. "She doesn't have feelings for me, and that is the end of it. The only thing you can do to help is to never mention her again." He turned to face his mother, the sadness and exhaustion in his face making him look 20 years older. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."
It broke her heart to see him like this. "I'm sorry, John. I just wish she and her family would leave and go back to where they came from. I wish they'd never come here in the first place." John couldn't find it in his heart to say the same.
When he closed his eyes, he saw Maggie's limp body in his arms. He heard her harsh words of rejection in every moment of silence. The fear and the pain danced inside his heart throughout the night, threatening to pull him under with the weight of it all. Sleep proved no better, wracked with nightmares filled with shadowy figures intent on inflicting harm on the people he loved.
Maggie
The unfamiliar car in front of her parents' house told Maggie that they had a visitor. She was still reeling from the emotions of the day, between John and Becca, she didn't feel up to entertaining someone. Sneaking past wasn't an option though, so she sucked it up and went inside. Mr. Bell was probably one of the last people she felt like seeing at the moment, with his knack for homing in on the uncomfortable things she preferred to stay hidden. Regardless of what she wanted, her parents beckoned her to stay and visit with her godfather.
"Look at those flowers; wasn't it just so kind of John to send them?" Her mother said, smiling at the irises on the table.
Maggie couldn't bring herself to comment, the events of the morning still too fresh on her mind. Thankfully, her father was ready with an answer. "They have to be the loveliest flowers I've ever seen. And at this time of year, very impressive," he said with affection.
"With a hand-written card, no less! He's been so kind, but I didn't think he'd have the time to think about us now, not with the boycott and all that drama going on."
Mr. Hale patted his wife's hand in response. "It shows his appreciation for you, love."
Smiling, Mrs. Hale turned towards her daughter. "You should drop by the Thornton's, Maggie, and thank John for his lovely gift."
The thought of going to the Thornton's house made Maggie want to curl up and die, though she tried her best to hide that sentiment at the moment. "I'm sure we can just send him a note, mom," she said, hiding her face in a book she had picked up from the side table, hoping that would be the end of the conversation.
"I saw Thornton on the street earlier," Mr. Bell said, unable to let the topic pass. "He didn't seem quite so put together as usual."
This observation was concerning to Mr. Hale, who secretly worried about his young friend. "Really, what do you mean?" he asked, trying to mask his anxiety.
Bell shook his head, thoughtful for a moment. "He just seemed very distracted; I'm sure he didn't even seem to notice me, right across the street. I thought he might have been visiting here since it was right down the road."
His words perplexed Mr. Hale even more since he was certain John hadn't been by that morning. There wasn't much other reason for him to be in the area, though, as far as he knew. "Maggie?" He asked his daughter hesitantly, wondering if there was something she hadn't told him.
Maggie stood up suddenly, unable to stay in this room any longer. "Excuse me, I have some things I need to do." She left the room before anyone had a chance to say a thing, rushing off to her room for some much-needed solitude. The last few days pressed in on her as she threw herself on her bed, gasping for air against the pressure of the world.
"Have you ever thought there might be some feelings between Thornton and Maggie?" Mr. Bell asked his old friend after Maggie disappeared up the stairs.
The thought alarmed Mr. Hale, as though he had never entertained the notion. "Oh, dear, no. Absolutely not. Well…" he paused, reflecting on the situation. "I guess it's possible, at least on John's part. But for Maggie, there's no way. She's never liked him, poor thing. I hope he hasn't gotten his hopes up." They sat quietly for a while, both thinking of the two young people and the potential for heartbreak.
Becca
The fatigue seemed to come on suddenly, and all at once. It was a familiar feeling, not pleasant by any means but also not as terrifying as it was the first time around. She knew what it meant, wasn't surprised by the call from the doctor. The expectation didn't make it any easier, however. It couldn't have come on at a worse time. Maybe the stress and turmoil of the boycott had brought it on, or at least accelerated her condition. Either way, Becca was exhausted.
She certainly wasn't in the mood to fight when Butch burst into her apartment looking good Nick. "He'll be back shortly, I reckon," she said, motioning for him to sit. He seemed on edge, which made her uncomfortable. Thankfully Nick did return quickly, and the two men sat at the table and talked in hushed tones while Becca napped on the couch.
"Loan you money? Are you out of your mind? If anything, I should tell the police who threw that rock at Thornton's!" Nick's sharp raised voice pulled Becca out of her half-asleep state.
Nick was standing now, hands angrily pressed in front of him. "You wouldn't rat me out," Butch said, crossing his arms but sounding less sure than his defiant posture indicated.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that. You've ruined everything!" Nick reached across the table and grabbed Butch by his shirt, pulling him up out of his chair.
Fear was plainly evident in Butch's eyes as he cowered beneath the other man's anger. Becca knew the damage Nick could inflict in a blind rage and thought to do something to stop this fight. "Please, y'all. Don't do this!" Her words fell useless on deaf ears.
"What were you thinking? You could have killed someone, an innocent bystander, a woman!" He released Butch's shirt but didn't step back, almost daring the smaller man to make excuses.
"It was Thornton's fault. He shouldn't have—" Nick didn't let him finish; instead he pushed Butch away, making him stumble into the wall.
"Everything was supposed to be done within the law! We were right, we had everyone behind us, the whole world was rooting for us. But you had to go and act like the hoodlums and criminals that the owners try to make us out to be. You want me to loan you money, lie to the police? I don't want to be implicated in your crimes. I'm an upstanding man, people trust me." Nick finally stopped for breath, panting a bit from the exertion of his anger.
Butch had backed further into the corner as Nick's rant continued but now took the opportunity to speak while he had a chance. "You said everything would be alright! The boycott wasn't working. When was it going to end? Maybe things were alright for you, but your family wasn't sick and starving." He spoke with more boldness than Becca thought was possible from the man, but his words were the exact wrong choice considering the news the Higgins had received recently.
"And neither was yours!" This fresh burst of anger seemed to shake the frames on the wall, causing Butch to cower afresh. "I gave you my word, and I always keep my word." Nick finally turned away, apparently unable to watch as the tears ran down his friend's face. "You're pathetic, you know that? Even with all the money in the world, you would still have failed your family. You were put on this earth to bring everyone else down; your friends, your children, your wife…"
This final insult was too much for Butch. He took a swing at Nick in a last attempt to preserve his dignity, but Nick was expecting it and sidestepped him easily. The smaller man stumbled, barely catching himself on the table. "I'll turn you in. The police are going to come for you." Becca wasn't sure if her brother would make good on his threat, but Butch seemed to believe him. He made for the door without another word.
Nick chased him into the breezeway, calling after him as he scrambled down the stairs. "I'm turning you in, Butch! You better watch your back!" He stomped back inside and slammed the door, finally noticing his sister sitting on the couch, tears silently streaming down her cheeks.