Circumnavigate In Hope

John hadn’t heard from Maggie in three days. Three long, long days. Whenever he wasn’t touring or doing anything band related, he and Maggie spent nearly every waking moment together. It didn’t matter if they were driving down the long desert roads of Tempe, or watching reruns of Friends on TV, or even sleeping; they did it together because he was home, and these days, that was a rare occurrence.

Throwing on a white v-neck tee shirt, John ran down the stairs of his house, passing by his mother who was in the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” she called, sounding genuinely curious.

“Maggie’s,” he replied quickly, slipping on a pair of sandals.

“Oh, John, I – I don’t know if that’s a good idea, honey,” Mrs. O’Callaghan said nervously.

“What? Why not?” He walked back into the kitchen, giving his mom a look.

“Well,” she sighed. “Patricia called me this morning and said that ever since she had that – that operation, Maggie’s been locked up in her bedroom.”

John’s brows furrowed. “What happened with the operation? Is she okay!?” His heartbeat skyrocketed at the mere thought of Maggie being hurt.

“She’s fine, she’s fine, John! Calm down!” Mrs. O’Callaghan stated, admiring her son’s caring heart. “It's just – the operation didn’t go as planned.” John gave her a quizzical look and she sighed once more. “It didn’t work, John.”

He felt his heart plummet. Although he knew that the operation wasn’t going to work, it didn’t stop his heart from aching for his best friend who had put all of her hope into that procedure and who had now confined herself in her bedroom because of it.

“I’ll be back later!” he called over his shoulder before rushing out the door. It took him less than twenty seconds to reach the Howard’s doorstep and two seconds for his fist to knock on the wood paneling.

“Oh, John, hi,” Mrs. Howard smiled.

“Hey, Mama Howard. Is Maggie up?” he asked, feeling as if he sounded childish.

Mrs. Howard sighed and she opened the door wider, allowing John to step foot in the house. “She’s in her room. She refuses to come down and her dad’s just about ready to take the door off its hinges.” She shook her head. “Will you please try and talk to her, John? You’ve always been the only one to get through to her.”

Without hesitating, John nodded his head, doing his best to smile. “Of course.”

Mrs. Howard thanked him before he bounded up the stairs, coming to a stop just right outside of her door. He knocked three times gently, and waited for a response. When he didn't get one, he took out his wallet and pulled one of the credit cards from its pocket. It took a moment, but he was finally able to undo the lock and her door slowly opened. Placing his wallet back in his pocket, he stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.

His green pools landed on the girl lying in her bed, sleeping soundly. Her hair was fanned out on the sheet of her pillow and she had her blanket pulled up to just under her chin, the way she always did when she slept. He felt his nerves relax as he tiptoed to the bed before going to lie beside her, trying not wake her. He pulled the blanket over his body, wrapping his arm around her stomach. He traced small circles into her hipbones, something that had become like a habit to him over the years.

He placed his lips near her ear and ever so softly, he began singing. “Wake up, Maggie, I think I got something to say to you. It’s late September and I really should be back at school. I know I keep you amused, but I feel I’m being used. Oh, Maggie, I couldn’t have tried anymore. You led me away from home, just to save ya from being alone. You stole my heart and that’s what really hurts.” She stirred and he smiled before continuing. “The morning sun when it’s in your face really shows your age. But that don’t worry me none, in my eyes you’re everything.”

She opened her eyes, looking straight at him. “Wh-when did y-you g-get h-h-here?” her voice was thick with sleep and raw, like she hadn’t talked in days.

He brushed the hair from her face. “Just now. You weren’t answering my calls or texts and I was worried, Maggs.” Her face fell and she looked away from him. “Maggie, what happened?” He watched as tears pooled her eyes and he touched the side of her face gently, making her look at him. “What happened?” he asked again, softer this time.

She licked her chapped lips and stared up at the ceiling, as if she were remembering that day. “I-I just re-remember wa-wa-waking up a-and b-be-being in-in pain,” she said, tears tumbling down her cheeks. “I-I was s-s-so s-st-stupid, w-was-n’t I, John?” she asked, looking at him.

He swallowed back his own tears and shook his head. “You weren’t stupid, baby. You just wanted to believe in a miracle and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Her body began to tremble from her sobbing. “I-I’m s-so p-p-pa-pa-“ she never finished her sentence, instead she screamed, and John knew it was because she was enraged that she couldn’t talk properly. “I-I h-h-hate m-my-myself, John.” Her words were stammered but there was an eerie truth in them and John hated that.

“Don’t say that, Maggie. Don’t ever fucking say that,” he told her, looking her in the eyes. He rolled over her, straddling her waist and cradling her face in his hands. “I want you to listen to me, and listen to me good. Maggie, I don’t care that you stumble over your words; half of the fucking human population does. I don’t care what anyone says or what they think is wrong with you. Baby, there is not one fucking thing wrong with you. If you could talk without stuttering, it wouldn’t make me love you anymore than I do now. There is nothing about you that needs to be fixed and – and I love you, Maggie. I mean, I really fucking love you and I hate that you had to do something so drastic, something so risky for me to realize that, but it’s true. My world would be hell without you.”

She stared at him, not uttering a single word and it made him feel bare. He needed her to say something – anything. But instead, with one swift motion, her lips were pressed against his and the very thing that he had been dreaming about since he was sixteen, was finally happening. He was kissing his Maggie.

His beautiful, sweet, stuttering Maggie.

“I-I l-lo-love you, t-t-too, John,” she told him after pulling away from his lips.

He’d never heard a more beautiful, complete sentence in his life.