Hannah

There were many places Hannah Thornton would have preferred to spend her afternoon. The Hale's bedroom was nowhere on the list. How she ended up here was still somewhat of a blur, but there she was, sitting in the chair next to the Hale's bed. In the bed was Mrs. Hale, looking as sick as anyone she had ever seen. Hannah, who had not known the woman's condition was so deteriorated, was shocked at her appearance. Gaunt and weary, Mrs. Hale struggled to smile when Mrs. Thornton entered the room.

"I'm worried about Maggie, what will happen to her when I am gone," she began as if picking up a conversation where they left off. "I don't think I have much longer in this world," she coughed, struggling to regain her breath, making Mrs. Thornton anxious that the sickly woman would choose that moment to make her earthly exit. Thankfully, she took a shuddering breath and continued. "I wanted to ask you to look after her, Maggie that is, after I die. Our friend Dixie is here, for now, of course, but my own sister lives up north and is out of the country often… Maggie needs a strong woman to guide her."

She paused, looking expectantly at Mrs. Thornton, waiting for her response. "I'm not sure…" Hannah peered around, trying to find a way out of this situation. "Your daughter is clearly her own person, makes her own decisions. I'm sure nothing I could say would ever change her mind." She was irritated to be put on the spot in such a way. "I'm surprised she's not here, with you being so sick and all," she said, raising her nose in judgment of what she perceived as another failing of the girl.

Mrs. Hale sighed mournfully. "I made her go," she said, shaking her head. "I was feeling better, I thought… I just want you to be a friend to Maggie, after everything."

A friend, indeed. As if such a haughty girl would even appreciate friendship from Mrs. Thornton. She probably thought herself too good for such company. "I'm afraid I'm not the most affectionate person, even to my own children," she said aloud, noting Mrs. Hale's downcast look, "but, if Maggie ever asked me for help, or if I saw her making some mistake or doing something I thought was wrong…"

"Oh, but Maggie is such a sweet girl, she would never do anything wrong," Mrs. Hale interrupted with more spirit than Hannah thought was in her.

Hannah decided to let that slide. "I will counsel and direct her as I would my own daughter, I promise." She wasn't sure that would be enough, but thankfully Mrs. Hale accepted that answer. Or maybe she was just growing weary from the conversation.

Leaning back against her pillow, Mrs. Hale sighed and closed her eyes. "I am grateful for your assurance, and I appreciate your willingness to be kind to Maggie. Thank you." Hannah wasn't sure what to say to that, so she just nodded before leaving the room quietly, hoping those weren't the last words Mrs. Hale would ever speak.

Maggie

The chair next to her parents' bed became her new home. Maggie felt as if she had barely left it since arriving back in Atlanta. Her mother seemed like a different person than the one she had left just weeks before, someone she barely even recognized. Mr. Hale had taken her to the ER one night, early on in Maggie's absence.

"Why didn't you call me?" She'd asked, "I would have come home right away."

Her father just shook his head. He had wanted Maggie to enjoy her trip without being burdened by the news. "It wouldn't have changed anything. There's nothing you could have done." That's what the doctors at the hospital had told him after all the scans and tests were run. There was nothing left to be done. So, they sent her home to spend the last of her days with her family. There was a special hospice nurse that came often, one that was on hand when needed, to help keep Maria comfortable through the end.

Dixie laid her hand on Maggie's shoulder, jolting her awake in the chair where she had dozed off. "I never should have left, Dixie," Maggie said for the thousandth time, tears welling in her eyes.

"She wanted you to go. She was glad you were able to have a nice time without worrying about her. This all happened very suddenly." They were the same words of reassurance that Dixie had said many times before, but they still didn't bring the comfort Maggie needed.

A knock on the door pulled their attention. "Who would be visiting at this hour?" Dixie huffed, glancing at the clock and noticing that it was getting quite late. "I'll go get your father."

"No," Maggie said quickly, getting up and stretching against the painful stiffness in her joints. "I'll get it. Don't bother dad." She hobbled down the stairs, wiping the sleep from her eyes as she opened the door a crack, ready to close it in an instant if needed.

The shadowy figure on the stoop spoke. "Is Mr. Hale here?" It was a voice Maggie would recognize anywhere, one she hadn't heard in years.

Quickly releasing the security chain on the door, she threw it open wide and pulled the figure inside. "Finn? Oh my god, you're here. Finn!" Maggie pulled her brother into a tight hug, squeezing to make sure he was real.

"Mom?" He asked quietly, noting the hint of sadness etched around his sister's eyes, behind the obvious joy of seeing him.

Maggie smiled sadly. "She's alive. She's as sick as she could be but she's still with us."

"Thank god," he said, taking off his coat and hat, hanging them by the door.

Maggie took her brother's bag and started to lead him into the hallway. "Dad is probably…"

"You did know I would come, didn't you?" Finn cut her off, uncertainty in his voice.

She stopped and looked up at him, the face she had once knew so well now marred by age and anxiety. "Of course, Finn. But we haven't heard anything back from you!"

Nodding, Finn relaxed a bit. "I thought it would be safer to come without announcing it, just in case."

"Sure, that makes sense. I just didn't think it would be so soon." She smiled, hardly believing that he was really there, in the flesh.

They were interrupted by Mr. Hale, calling down the hall from his music room. "Magpie? Did I hear the door or am imagining things?" He poked his head through the doorway, squinting in the dim light to see who was standing with Maggie. Walking slowly down the hall, he shook his head as if he could hardly believe his eyes. "Finn! You've finally come back to us!"

John

News of Mrs. Hale's turn for the worse worried John. He was concerned for his friend, on the brink of losing his wife of so many years. He was also worried about Maggie; the loss of her mother would be hard for her, he knew, remember how much he missed his own father. John knew how difficult it was to lose a parent. It pained him to know that he couldn't be there for her during this trying time. She wouldn't want his sympathy.

He couldn't bring himself to abandon Mr. Hale, though, who had been so kind and good to him. So, John decided to bring a small care package that he hoped would brighten their day a little, while also giving him the excuse to check in on them.

His hands shook a bit as he knocked on their door, the only outward sign of his nervousness. It was silly, to be so anxious when he was just trying to be a good friend to Mr. Hale. He had stood on this porch and knocked on this door countless times. Still, the very thought of seeing Maggie made his heart race, no matter the circumstances.

The door opened, revealing the subject of his thoughts, who stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind her. "Hello, Maggie," he said coolly, realizing quickly that she had no intention of inviting him in.

"John…" She looked nervous, not quite meeting his gaze.

He held out the basket he'd painstakingly prepared, full of the snacks and treats he knew Maggie and her family enjoyed. "I just came by to bring this, just a small care package to help your family through this difficult time." His words sounded stiff to his own ears, the opposite of the feelings waging war in his heart.

Maggie's attention was pulled to someone coming up the sidewalk behind John. "Mary! I'm glad you're here. Could you take this inside and put it in the kitchen?" She said to the newcomer, taking the basket from John and handing it to her. John recognized the young woman, a hospice nurse that Nick had an on-again off-again relationship with.

"Excuse me, I thought I'd still be welcome here despite our… well, despite everything that's happened. At least as your father's friend, if nothing else." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, both irritated and embarrassed.

Stepping closer, Maggie spoke kindly, "You are welcome, John, it's just…" she seemed to struggle to come up with a good enough excuse.

John had been looking through the now-open doorway, eyeing an unfamiliar coat and hat on the hooks by the door. "Sorry, I didn't realize you had company already," he said, thinking that might explain her coldness and shifty behavior. He turned to leave, not wanting to disturb the family any further.

"No! No, it's just us, we don't have anyone else here!" Maggie said quickly, stopping him before he could leave the porch. John looked at her, surprised at her sudden energy, then frowned when he heard laughter coming from the back of the house. It wasn't the familiar sound of Mr. Hale's soft laugh but was definitely masculine. There wasn't any doubt that someone else was inside that house, whether Maggie wanted him to know it or not.

He shook his head, turning again to leave. "Goodbye, Maggie," he said shortly.

"John, please," she called after him. "My mom is very sick. This isn't what it looks like. Please, believe me, this has nothing to do with you and you are welcome…" Maggie trailed off, realizing that he wasn't going to turn around. John strode angrily down the street, refusing to look back and let Maggie see how upset he was.

Maggie

They were sitting in the music room, reminiscing and letting Mrs. Hale rest when there was a knock on the door. "That must be the nurse, Mary," Maggie said, getting up to let her in. Her mother's hospice nurse was a kind and quiet sort of person, someone the whole family had decided they needed to trust. The kind of person who helps others die with dignity isn't the kind who would cause problems for a grieving family.

That was all well and good, except it wasn't Mary at the door. Maggie was thoroughly startled when she opened the door only to see John standing on the porch. She quickly stepped out, closing the door behind her, worried he would hear or see something related to Finn. John noticed this, of course, his expression changing quickly. He was holding a basket and was in the process of trying to hand it to her when Mary came up the sidewalk.

Perfect timing, Maggie thought, hoping the nurse's appearance would signal to John that he needed to leave. She handed the basket to Mary before turning back to John to thank him and tell him goodbye. The look on his face stopped her, though, his hurt expression pulling at her heart. She wanted to reassure him, to let him know it didn't have anything to do with him, but couldn't come up with a good reason to keep him out of the house.

He visibly relaxed when he noticed Finn's hat and coat by the door. "Sorry, I didn't realize you had company already," he said. His words made Maggie panic, the mere hint of Finn's existence setting off alarm bells in her head. What if he figured out who was visiting? What if someone else found out? If anything happened to Finn, it would be all her fault.

"No! No, it's just us, we don't have anyone else here!" She sounded as frantic as she felt, cursing to herself at how obvious she was being, making things worse. Finn's laughter spilled out the door at that moment, making it all the more apparent that Maggie was lying. She wanted to kick herself for being such an idiot.

John's stony expression told her all she needed to know about his feelings. She'd really messed things up this time. She called out to his retreating figure, trying to explain, to say something that would make things better, but he didn't turn around. She watched him go, dread building in her stomach as she thought over their brief exchange. I thought I'd still be welcome here… He had put aside whatever feelings of embarrassment he had about the whole situation and tried to be a good friend to her father. Knowing him, that was probably very difficult. And here she was, making him feel unwelcome and unwanted. The truth was, he wasn't unwanted at all. He was wanted very, very much. She had just realized it too late.

Taking a deep breath, Maggie walked back into the house, pushing down those thoughts as best she could. She went to the kitchen and picked up the basket John had brought, amazed that he had remembered which snacks she and her family preferred. She carried it into the music room to share with her brother.

"Who was that at the door? The roadie dad has told me all about?" Finn asked, picking out some candy from the basket.

Maggie sat down heavily on the piano bench. "John? He's one of the venue owners."

Shrugging, Finn took a bite of his chocolate bar. "Roadie, club owner, what's the difference? What was dad thinking, bringing you down here, forcing you to associate with these people…" he trailed off when he saw his sister shaking her head firmly.

She didn't like the way he was talking about people he knew nothing about. "John is… he's a gentleman, Finn. And he's been very kind to us," she said, putting a stop to his rant.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, slouching into his chair, "Who am I to talk, anyway? After I've been absent all these years, neglecting my family. You don't know how hard it is to not be able to thank the people who have helped you. That our lives must always be separate unless I risk going to jail." He sat up and smiled a bit. "Or, you could come to Mexico. You know, I have a good job, and… well…"

Maggie smiled at her normally confident brother looking embarrassed. "And?" she said, teasing him.

"You know, the girl I wrote to you about. Delores? Oh, if you could only meet her, Mags. You would love her! Mom and dad would, too." He looked so happy talking about her, that Maggie couldn't help but be happy with him. She was glad he found someone to make him smile like that. The feeling didn't last, though; Dixie had slipped into the room, waiting for them to finish talking, a somber look on her face. The siblings knew instantly what it meant. It was time.

John

It was hard to find a bar where no one would recognize him and bother him. All his usual places were out of the question; they either hated him for the boycott or everyone wanted to congratulate him for it. He didn't want to deal with any of that at the moment. So, he picked a dark one, hoping that he'd get lucky and could slip in unnoticed to brood for a bit.

Luck was not on his side, however. He was nursing his second scotch, slouched in a corner booth, lost in thought when someone slid into the booth across from him. The interruption irritated him, and he looked up ready to snap at whoever presumed to invade his space. His threat was cut short when he looked up and noticed who it was.

"Mason! Lord, how long has it been?" It was one of his old army buddies, one he hadn't seen in years.

Smiling, Mason reached across to shake hands with his old friend. "It's good to see you, Thornton. Though I feel like I've seen a lot of you, on the news and all that." Mason was a small man, with almost elvish features. Early in their deployment overseas, everyone had underestimated him, but he had managed to prove himself a capable soldier on many occasions.

John sighed a bit in response. "Yeah, I'll be glad to put all that business behind me. How've you been, Mason? I didn't know you were back in town."

"Eh, I haven't been too shabby. Spent some time in the suburbs, living the quiet life. I've recently accepted a detective's position here in the city, though. I was getting tired of the small-town problems, they seem so insignificant, comparatively speaking." John remembered that Mason had joined the police force after his enlistment was up, which wasn't uncommon for former soldiers. John himself had considered it but decided not to put his mom through any more stress. Being a policeman in Atlanta wasn't the safest job out there. Plus, he already had enough enemies.

Caught up in his own thoughts, John realized he hadn't responded to Mason. "Well, it's good to see you."

Mason studied him for a moment. "What's got you so down, Thornton? Shouldn't you be happy, breaking down the boycott, everyone on your side now?" He asked, noticing the telltale signs of a brooding John.

Shrugging sheepishly, John gave him a crooked smile. "It's ridiculous; I'm ridiculous. It's nothing, really."

"Can't be nothing if you're drinking scotch alone in a bar on a weekday," Mason responded, catching a waiter's eye and motioning for two more drinks. "Why don't you tell me about it?"

So, John did. He told him about Maggie, about her parents, about the riot and everything that they said to each other afterward. It felt good to get it all out there, to talk about it with someone outside the situation. Mason didn't have any answers, didn't offer any solutions, but just listened to John talk, nodding sympathetically and asking a question here or there. By the time they were done, John felt a lot better than he did before, whether it was from the scotch or the conversation, he wasn't sure. But he left the bar with a more positive attitude than he entered with, thankful to have a friend who was willing to listen to him whine.