Why I don’t notice they’re about kiss until it’s too late.
And I see.
CHAPTER 44
Archibald and Maggie
BRIGHT MIDDAY SUNSHINE on a studio lot. A line of dancers, all of them Black men and women, holding portfolios and waiting for something. They’re dressed head to toe in fluorescent spandex, with neon sneakers.
One of the dancers is Maggie, but a much younger version of her. Her face is clear and open, no wrinkles along her forehead, no gray at her temples. Instead of dreadlocks, her hair is braided and laced through with silver threads.
“This is the third audition we’ve been at together,” says a voice from somewhere behind her.
Maggie turns to the voice. “Is that so?” she says to the young man she finds smiling at her. She raises a cool eyebrow. “I don’t remember you.”
A young Archibald falters and looks down at his feet, unsure what to say next.
Some of the women surrounding Maggie snicker.
A man wearing neon-purple spandex says, “Brother man, you have to come better than that.”
Archibald straightens, recovers himself. “Listen, I just don’t want you to be the one that got away.”
Maggie unarches her brow, considers him for a long moment. “Best not let me get away, then,” she says as her name is called to audition.
* * *
—
Television-blue light splashed across a group of smiling brown faces crowded into a small living room. Maggie is sitting in Archibald’s lap. His arms circle her waist. Her arms rest on top of his.
“There! There he is!” Maggie screams, pointing at the screen.
The friends lean in closer, picking out Archibald from the group of background dancers in the music video.
Archibald doesn’t bother looking at the TV. Instead, he holds Maggie even tighter. “I love you,” he says.
Maggie twists, throws her arms around his neck. “I love you too,” she says, and they topple over backward onto the ground.
* * *
—
Nighttime in a silver-tinseled ballroom. Archibald and Maggie are dancing the Viennese waltz.
Archibald is wearing a tuxedo.
Maggie’s wedding dress is chiffon and lace.
They spin again and again into each other’s arms.
They are made of joy.
* * *
—
A pale-green hospital room in the not-quite morning. Archibald and Maggie are lying together on the bed.
Maggie is holding a small swaddled bundle in her arms. “Look what we made,” she whispers to Archibald. “Look at this beautiful thing we made.”
* * *
—
A small kitchen with fading yellow sunlight leaking in through the blinds. Archibald and Maggie are sitting at a table, a worry of bills between them.
“I’m going to take that substitute teaching job,” Archibald says.
Maggie shakes her head. “I don’t want you giving up your dreams.”
Archibald pushes the bills to one side, clears a path for his hand to take hers. “I already have my dreams, Mags.”
* * *
—
Almost midnight in another pale-green hospital room. Maggie is sitting upright in her bed. On her face is a mixture of exhaustion and elation.
Archibald is holding their toddler-daughter in his arms.
“Remember,” Maggie says to the little girl. “Hearts grow bigger so you can love more.”
The little girl nods, kid-solemn, and doesn’t take her eyes off her baby brother.
* * *
—
Archibald steering Maggie down a long, dark hallway. She’s blindfolded and taking small, careful steps. Archibald guides her into a dance studio. The floors need finishing, and there’s a panel missing from the back wall of mirrors.
“Just what are you up to, Archibald Johnson?”
“You ready to find out?” Archibald asks as he undoes her blindfold.
Maggie gasps and presses her fingertips over her heart. She spins in place. “Oh, Archibald,” she says. “What did you do?”
“Time to start up those dreams again,” he says.
* * *
—
This moment right now, the two of them sharing a small kiss in their studio.
* * *
—
A wide-open field and a coffin being lowered into the ground. It’s snowing so lightly the flakes dissolve before they touch the ground. Maggie and Archibald lean into each other. “This isn’t right,” Archibald says to Maggie. “We’re not supposed to be here.”
* * *
—
Nighttime in an old-fashioned bedroom.
Older versions of Archibald and Maggie are lying on their bed. Archibald is on his back, his right arm wrapped around Maggie.