Page 61 of Twelve Days and Twelfth Night

Why had he been so kind after she’d treated him and Frank and Vi so horribly? Not only had he performed in the show—and well—but he’d searched for her at the Lily Pond. He’d listened to her and helped her find solutions—solutions to problems she had created.

His kindness only intensified the ache of losing him, only made her love him more.

Behind the door, women’s voices mumbled.

Now Maggie had to face Vi—face all of them.

Droplets from her hair dribbled down her neck and joined the sodden mess of blouse and suit clammy against her skin.

“Lord, help me know what to say,” she whispered. “For Vi’s sake.”

She opened the door, and nine women stared at her.

Half a dozen sprang to the door. “You have some nerve.”

“How dare you show your face?”

“Just go away.”

“I want to apologize to Vi.” Maggie’s voice was swept away in the flood of accusations. Rightful accusations.

“Pipe down!” Greta’s voice climbed over the din.

The ladies spun to face her.

“Pipe down.” Greta stood with hands on hips. “Maggie’s trying to apologize. Don’t you think Vi deserves an apology?”

Nan flung a hand in Maggie’s direction. “Yeah, but Maggie doesn’t deserve Vi’s forgiveness.”

“Certainly not.” Carol glared at Maggie. “Just leave, would you?”

Maggie winced and folded shivering arms over her drenched midriff.

“Let her speak,” Greta said. “Carol, wasn’t Maggie patient when you didn’t learn your lines? And Nan, didn’t she help when you were hysterical about your costume?”

Reluctant grumbles.

“I’m not here for forgiveness.” Maggie paused while her teeth chattered. “I was wrong, and I have no excuse. I just want to tell Vi how terribly sorry I am.”

“Let her.” Vi’s voice rose from behind the protective wall of women.

Still glowering at Maggie, the ladies parted.

Vi sat in a chair in her street clothes, hugging herself, her eyes a very un-festive mix of red and green. Her mouth puckered. “What were you thinking?”

Maggie sank into a chair beside Vi. She didn’t want to excuse her inexcusable behavior. “I’m so sorry. I—I wanted to give you and Frank a happy reunion. It never occurred to me—”

“You knew Frank was alive?” With her stage makeup scrubbed off, Vi’s lovely face was marred by red splotches and tear tracks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Gritting her teeth, Maggie tried to dry her hands on her sodden skirt. “I was wrong to keep it from you, wrong to make a public spectacle, and wrong—so very wrong—to hurt two friends.”

A scoffing sound from Carol. “I’ll say.”

Maggie sucked in a breath to stem her tears. “I see now what a horrible shock it was for you. And—and I embarrassed Frank.”

Vi’s mottled cheeks agitated. “He hates to be in the limelight. Oh, Frank. Oh no.”

“He still loves you,” Maggie said in a soft voice. “He did look for you, but—”