Back to Fan FictionACKNOWLEDGMENT:
In an e-mail conversation between him and myself, Frank Russell passed a remark
about Maxwell's inability to commit to Fran. This story was inspired directly
from that remark. I would also like to acknowledge Frank's assistance and important
contributions to this story. Thanks Frank! I couldn't have finished it without you!
Maxwell stood at the cemetery gates for a moment. The gates were a little rustier than when he had last seen them eight odd years ago. He gripped the bouquet in his left hand, pushed the nagging uncertainty in his stomach to one side, and marched quickly through the gates.
What lay before him was a veritable maze. The inside of the cemetery had changed greatly, many new occupants had arrived in the intervening years. Maxwell stopped again just inside the gates, wondering if he'd ever be able to find his way. He did not recognize anything. After a moment he took a deep breath and marched forward instinctively, threading a path through the graves. He knew that his general direction was correct, but other than that he followed only his instincts.
About four hundred metres inside the gate he suddenly stopped. He turned slowly through 180 degrees and found himself looking at the headstone of Sarah Sheffield. The headstone bore testimony of Sarah's life and subsequent death. The grave was bounded by a cement border, and two small cement cherubs stood on either corner of the border at the foot of the grave, looking mournfully toward the headstone. The grave itself was relatively clean and free of weeds - obviously the work of some keeper. Maxwell was grateful that someone had tended the grave in his absence, and he felt a touch guilty that he had done nothing toward its upkeep.
He placed the bouquet on the grave and looked furtively around to make certain that no one else was in sight.
"Hello Sarah." He swallowed hard. "It's been a long time."
All of a sudden he felt very stupid, and he turned on his heel and started off towards the gate. He had taken but three steps when he stopped, mustered up his nerve, and returned to the grave. He squatted at the foot of the grave, close to one of the cherubs. He spoke slowly, softly, and unevenly.
"A lot has happened since you left. The children have grown up so much, you'd be so proud. Well actually to be truthful, I didn't do a very good job with the children. I guess I was so wrapped up in my own problems that I kind of forgot about them. I buried myself in work, and the more I did that, the more they turned away. The more they turned away, the more I buried myself in work... They kind of ran astray.
"About four years ago I was so desperate for someone to mind the children that I hired this woman. She turned up on the doorstep peddling cosmetics of all things." He smiled weakly, "she is so different from anyone I've ever met. She's so different from you. She comes from Queens, you see, and she's Jewish. She has a voice that shatters glass and dresses like I can't even begin to describe."
Maxwell paused for a moment, realizing that Sarah would have scolded him for neglecting their children so. She had often scolded him so, but then they had always snuggled together in their bed later in the evening, making up for any for any argument, often making sweet love. In bed. In their bed. His and Sarah's. Suddenly it all came back to him, the events of the day she had died, the first night he had spent alone in that bed. It was like a blow to the stomach. He fell to his tuckus, grabbing and holding onto the cherub closest to him.
"Oh my God, Sarah... It hurts all over again. Oh my God!" He sucked in a deep breath as the tears flowed quickly and steadily. "Why did you have to leave me? None of this would ever have happened. The children would never have gone astray and I would never have hired this woman and I'd never have to make this choice! Oh God, Sarah, WHY?" He leant his head on the cherub as the tears turned into sobs and the pain continued. He sobbed until his eyes were red and his nose ran.
Several minutes passed, and presently he stemmed the tears and lifted his head. Had an observer been present they would have seen that his face was a mess, pale and drawn. His breathing was heavy and erratic as he fought to regain his composure.
Several more moments of silence passed. His eyes and nose began to dry, leaving evidence of his emotional ordeal on his face. He still clung to the cherub as he continued his monologue.
"You'd like Fran. She's the most outrageous person you could ever meet, but she has a good heart, a heart of gold. She loves the children dearly, and she's done such a wonderful job with them." He sniffed repeatedly as he spoke. "Gracie has stopped her therapy, Brighton no longer behaves like a brat, and Maggie... Maggie looks like you. She's a beautiful young woman now. And all because of Fran. In some ways Fran is more problematical than the children ever were, but she's so kind and loving. What she did for CC and her father was wonderful..." Maxwell rested his chin on the cherub, which he was still clinging to.
"And I love her. And I'm hurting her. She doesn't understand why I stand off." Maxwell paused again, still sniffing. "Damnit, I still love you Sarah, and I can't let go. I don't want to let go. I won't let go. Can a man have two loves in his heart at once? Can I ever be fair to her or you? I don't want to hurt her anymore. What am I supposed to do? This is the devil's choice!"
He started crying again, softly this time. In his mind's eye he imagined what Sarah would say to him. She would tell him to stop being foolish. She would tell him to stop feeling sorry for himself. "Just because you love this woman doesn't mean you love me any less," she would say. "If you marry her, you are not forsaking me. It doesn't mean you must forget me. Let not your love for me keep you apart from this woman. But you must not let me interfere. A marriage is between two people, not three. You must live for yourself now, and for the children of our love. Hold me in your heart my darling, and I will always be there. I love you."
Maxwell looked up. The voice had seemed so real, and yet there was not another human being in the cemetery. Slowly, he stood up, drew his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face, eyes, and nose. He smiled slightly, as he knew that Sarah would have done that for him, holding his chin in her hand and complaining vehemently that he was worse than the children. He returned the hanky to his pocket, and stood silently for a moment.
"I love you too, darling."
With that, Maxwell turned and made his way back to the gate.
Maxwell returned to the house in the evening to find the family already eating dinner. He sat quietly through the meal, and he left the table immediately after. He was standing on the verandah outside his office, contemplating the scene before him, when Fran came to find him.
She came into the office, and was surprised not to find him there. She was just about to turn and leave when she noticed that the French doors were wide open. Looking outside, she caught sight of Maxwell, leaning on the rail.
"Oh Mr Sheffield, there you are," she said, coming outside to join him. "Oh what's this?" she asked, catching sight of the seat of his trousers. "I didn't notice this before, your trousers are covered with grass stains, what on earth have you been doing?"
"What? Oh..." he asked, trying to twist enough to see them. "Never mind, it's nothing," he said, brushing the seat of his pants with palm of his hand.
"I'll do that for you," commented Fran cheekily, making Maxwell avert his eyes and blush a little. A pregnant pause ensued.
"Er, were you looking for me?" asked Maxwell presently.
"Yes," Fran replied, "You were very quiet at the dinner table tonight, I just wanted to make sure you're okay."
Maxwell breathed a sigh. "I have just been thinking is all," he said as he stared off into the night. Fran noticed the sigh and said nothing, allowing him this peace and allowing herself to share it with him.
Presently he spoke. "You would have loved Sarah, Fran. And I think she would loved you." Fran put her arm around him to comfort him, and then rested her head on his shoulder. He seemed responsive and warm. As if by some intangible force, something occurred to Fran.
"You... still love her don't you?" she asked softly.
"Yes I do," he replied without a moment of hesitation.
"I bet you never took it back from her," said Fran foolishly, almost under her breath. The instant she had said it she was truly sorry, but he had already heard it.
And that irritated him. He had been labeled with that tag one time too many.
"All right, that's it," he replied, "come with me." He lead her by the hand back through the office and toward the living room. "CHILDREN, NILES! Would you come here please?"
"No, wait, Mr Sheffield..." Fran began to feel a sense of panic, she had obviously provoked him too far this time. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, I take it back."
"There'll be no taking things back in this household, young lady," replied Max, towing her into the living room. Brighton and Gracie were already in the living room watching television. "Maggie! Niles!"
"What's up? What's going on Dad?" asked Brighton, as Maggie came down the stairs, and Niles appeared from the kitchen.
"I've got something to tell you all," said Max. They gathered around, and the hubbub increased.
At that moment, the front door swung open, and CC entered.
"Hello, hello," she greeted in her usual manner, "Maxwell, I just stopped off to pick up those contracts we were working on this morning, I have a gorgeous date waiting for me over town and I thought I'd drop them off on my way."
"Working the late shift at the graveyard again?" asked Niles, "I hope you don't have to exhume him first." CC scowled at him.
"Well I'm glad you're here CC, you're just in time," said Maxwell, "I have something very important to say to everyone."
"Well, what is it?" she asked. Maxwell looked around at the faces, all eagerly awaiting his news. Fran's face, he noted, was stiff and apprehensive, rather than eager. He motioned her to sit on the couch, and then he waited until everyone was silent. He then looked very deliberately at Fran, and spoke slowly.
"I want to say, before God and all the world, that I am very much in love with Miss Fran Fine, and I want her to be my wife."
CC fainted. Niles was nearly next. The children erupted into a roar and rushed to hug and kiss their father and Fran, who was still sitting on the couch, overwhelmed.
Max knelt before Fran, and the room fell to a hush at what was about to happen. Taking her hand in both of his, Max said in a soft voice, "I love you Fran, will you marry me?"
A weak nod was all Fran could manage, and then they kissed.
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