By Micki L. Bailey

Maggie was deep in sleep and experiencing an extended, very vivid dream…

"And this is the ever-charming and undeniably handsome Earl Ray Michaels," Scottie LaMont was saying. "He has something to do with that huge-ass Army/Navy store in town. What is it again you do over there, buddy?"

Scottie. Resplendently alive and well. Typically boisterous and brash. The way she remembered him. The way he would always remain in her imagination.

"I own the place, Scottie," Earl Ray answered quietly. Then he shyly turned his green eyes to her. "Hey, Maggie. Nice to meet ya." And he smiled a little as he offered her his hand.

Scottie was absolutely right, she thought in the dream. This guy’s very charming……..AND easy on the peepers. His handshake was firm but not rough.

"You too, Earl Ray. I’ve, uh, never had an occasion to visit that store………I don’t look so hot in fatigues," she said and smiled back at him. She felt like she was in high school again and flirting with a new boy.

Scottie was still laughing at his own joke. "Ah, sweetcheeks, you look hot in everything. Don’t try to be modest."

Maggie cut her eyes over to him. "Okay, Scottie. I’ll leave modesty to you………You do it so well."

Earl Ray laughed a little, and Scottie smirked. "Earl Ray, man, she’s got a wiseass mouth on her, but other than that she’s okay."

"Shut up, Scottie. I don’t need your seal of approval," Maggie said.

Scottie ignored her, like he did often. "And she’s even got a bit of talent in the ol’ kitchen. Hell, she’s the number two Fry Girl down at the Tasty Freeze." He grinned, so amused with himself.

She squinted angrily at him and then gave Earl Ray a kind expression. "As usual, Scottie’s lying. I’m doing assistant chef duties at The Giverny Bistro."

"And now tell him what the hell ‘Giverny’ is, Maggie." Scottie turned to Earl Ray. "She always has to explain the high-brow stuff to us feeble-minded fools."

She glared at him. "You’re a prick, Scottie………..Giverny is where Claude Monet lived in Paris………and surely your world-traveling ass knows who Claude Monet was."

Scottie laughed. "Was? He’s dead?"

"So you really do have a cooking talent?" Earl Ray joined in again, ignoring Scottie. He seemed so very earnest.

"It’s a living." Maggie thought she could probably swim in the deep pools in his eyes.

Scottie put a hand on her back affectionately, startling her. "I keep offering to bankroll her own place for her, but she won’t give in to me."

Glancing back at him, she said, "It would scare me shitless to be indebted to you, Scottie darling."

He moved his hand up to the back of her neck and squeezed gently. "Babe, with the stuff you turn out, you’d be successful enough to repay me in six short months."

She rolled her eyes, but only Earl Ray saw the sarcastic gesture. He smiled. "Yeah, yeah, Scottie. We’ll see," she said sullenly.

"So! Where’re you kids off to tonight?"

Scottie, she recalled in the dream, had been ecstatic about his brilliant match-making idea. He had hardly been able to wait until these two single friends of his made each other’s acquaintance. He was sure they’d hit it off. He very much wanted them to hit it off.

They all three stood now at the bar in a small pub near Scottie’s house. The noisy crowd around them had receded far into the background for Maggie, since she’d discovered this eye-catching and pleasant Michaels fellow. The notion of a "blind date" had repulsed her at first, but she’d agreed to it after Scottie hounded her for weeks. And she was certainly glad he’d finally worn her down. This guy might be worth it.

"The lady’s choice," Earl Ray was saying. "Whatever she wants to do." He smiled again at her. Oh, my, was he charming.

"Ah, man, don’t give ‘er that option. She might have your ass down at the museum looking at some damn Claude Monet shit or something," Scottie warned.

Maggie hit him lightly on the arm. "You need to tend to your own business, Scottie, and stay outta everyone else’s."

"Take ‘er over to Angel City. She’s big on pasta." Scottie had ignored her again.

"Maggie? Care to join me and get outta this loud place?" Earl Ray raised his eyebrows.

"That sounds great," she answered. "See ya, LaMont."

"Later, kids. Don’t be out too late now."

As they walked out of the restaurant, she instinctively wanted to put her arm through Earl Ray’s. But she feared he might find this too much too fast. So she kept up beside him and became aware of his faint cologne, a scent she found quite appealing.

As she’d expected, he opened the passenger door of his brand new Jeep Cherokee for her and waited until she was situated comfortably inside. Then he shut the door forcefully.

Slam!

Maggie was jolted out of her heavy slumber by a loud bang. She was so disoriented that she couldn’t determine at first if she’d actually heard the noise or if it had only been part of her too-real dream.

Then, like a furious whirlwind, Roger was in the room with her. He must have slammed the front door to awaken her, but she hadn’t heard his cat-like movements as he’d made his way quickly to their bedroom. He was scanning the semi-dark room with his piercing eyes.

"Damnit!" she heard him whisper.

She sat up in bed. "What is it, honey?"

He jumped oh, so slightly and looked at her from the foot of the bed, his eyes wide and shining. "I thought you were asleep."

She laughed just barely. "I was."

"Sorry, baby."

"Don’t worry ‘bout it. I needed to wake my ass up anyway," she said, stretching. "What’s the big panic with you?"

He seemed more at ease than before, but he remained standing at the foot of the bed. "I can’t find the damn HK………..the new one."

His new gun. His prize. She should have known.

"It’s in the Mercedes, Roger………in that little box under the driver’s seat……….Remember?"

He pursed his fine lips while he thought. "You’ve been riding ‘round town with a loaded weapon under you?"

A sly smile escaped her. "You’re a loaded weapon that’s under me quite often, sweetheart………..and I’m usually riding then too."

"That’s not funny, Maggie," he scowled.

"Ah, but it sure brings a smile to your face."

Now, reluctantly, he did grin a little. "Gotta give ya that one, sweets………and when I get back from the shooting range………." He trailed off. He didn’t have to finish.

"So that’s why ya want the HK?"

"I wanna show her off to Earl Ray," Roger said proudly. "He hasn’t seen ‘er."

She stood up. "Okay. I’ll cook something for dinner while you’re gone. Why don’tcha ask him to join us?"

"No, baby. Let’s go out. I’m in the mood for Caribbean………..Cuban or something…………Maybe Earl Ray can bring Deena along."

Maggie hadn’t met Earl Ray’s new romantic interest yet, and the deliberately slow turning of her head in Roger’s direction now reminded him of this. And he knew precisely what she was thinking.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Nothing, Roger. That’s an excellent game plan………..Shall I just meet the three of you somewhere?" Icy sarcasm dripped off the words, and her eyes bore into him.

"C’mon, Maggie. Don’t start." Roger’s tone developed the familiar patient quality.

"I’m not part of the little club yet, Roger……….I feel left out." That was mostly the truth. She sat back down on the bed, feeling sad.

"Are you jealous of her, sweetheart?" His voice was hardly above a whisper still.

He had come over to sit on the bed beside her, and she spun her head around to face him. "Are you fucked in the head? Jealous of some woman I don’t even know?"

She was well aware of what he meant: jealous for Earl Ray, not for him. And she knew that he knew she understood.

He sighed. "Fine. Let’s just see if they wanna have dinner with us tonight, and you can become part of the club. Okay?"

"Okay. Fine." She didn’t look up at him.

"Good." Roger stood up. "I’ll be back to get you in a coupla hours…………even if it’s just you and me."

"Okay."

He hadn’t coddled her. He hadn’t seen the situation as a "coddling required" one. He just kissed the top of her head while she hung it sullenly and left. Left her with her silly sadness.

And she was feeling sad only because of the "dream" she’d just had which so closely mirrored her real life past. A dream/memory of many years ago (eight? nine?) when she’d met her first husband – Sergeant Earl Ray Michaels. A beautiful time for her when she thought she’d actually and finally found (after years and years of searching) the one true love of her life.

A long time before she knew Roger Lococco existed.

* * *

To Maggie’s amazement, meeting Deena had not been troubling for her at all. It was also to her amazement that this was even an issue for her – that she still found herself slightly bothered by any woman Earl Ray showed an interest in. She hadn’t been his wife for three years now. So why should she care anymore? She hadn’t cracked this mystery in her psyche yet, and was still caught completely off-guard each time she felt the familiar stabs of jealousy over him.

Deena turned out to be rather enjoyable, Maggie thought. She was tall and sported sandy blonde hair. Perhaps these features that were similar to Maggie herself had helped to convince her that she still held a tiny spot in Earl Ray’s subconscious, that he was attracted to what reminded him of her. Whatever the reason, the evening went along swimmingly, and Maggie was able to refocus all her attentions on her husband of now, the suave and exquisite Roger Lococco.

A few nights later, however, she dreamed again. Just as vividly and realistically as before.

Scottie was alive again. Full of energy and full of himself. Not dead somewhere in San Francisco. He was eagerly questioning her about Earl Ray as they sat on the huge deck behind his house.

"So spill the dirt, Maggie dear. You guys do the deed yet or not?"

"Gimme a break! I’ve only had four dates with the guy!" She tried a vague answer.

Scottie snorted. "So is that a ‘yes’ or ‘no’? Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, babe."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, Scottie…………if you must know………..I stayed over at his house Saturday night."

"And?"

"And what?"

Scottie sighed with exasperation. "Will he do? Does the boy get another chance?"

Glaring at him, Maggie huffed. "You’re so damn nosy."

"Hey!" He stared at her with melodramatically wide eyes. "This is a coupla my friends we’re talking ‘bout here! At least I hope they become a couple…………and my Cupid skills are usually outstanding, I must say."

Forever high-strung and unabashedly self-aware. That was Scottie. Maggie refrained from telling him that she’d already fallen pretty damn hard for his friend, this Michaels guy – that she was completely enchanted by his adorable Southern accent and cute boyish mannerisms, and that she was fascinated by his sharp conversations and his heart-felt references to his Vietnam days.

Maggie had discovered (to her extreme liking) that he was the kind of guy tough enough to literally pull whole trees up out of the ground and yet also able to treat her to a sweet little picnic in the park and easily discuss whatever she chose to talk about. She wanted desperately to know him better.

She woke up when Scottie went inside for more spiked lemonade. Woke up to a dark bedroom and the soft sound of Roger beside her breathing steadily in his sleep. He was lying on his stomach, his arm flung across her abdomen. So she lay there in the dark and turned the dream over in her mind, not wanting to disturb the sleeping beauty next to her.

She remembered Earl Ray, the way he was so long ago.

He had been a perfectly polite gentleman towards her on those first few dates. Even while they hesitantly and slowly explored each other’s body for the first time in his bed that Saturday night. He’d been gentle but firm with her, as if he was finally being turned loose on something he’d been craving badly but that he also understood was fragile. She still remembered the salty-sweet taste of his skin and the feel of his powerfully strong body holding hers tightly as he trembled with a mighty orgasmic blast.

Yes, she’d happily given him another chance after that. And, in less than a year, he had given her his name. And then they’d mutually given each other five or so years of their lives, filled with mostly good times and a few bad ones sprinkled here and there.

Maggie had believed then with her entire heart and mind that Earl Ray was her predestined "other half" and that her world was on its correct cosmic path. She was happy. Happier than she’d been in her life to date. As happy as she thought she could ever be.

Next to her, Roger moved in the dark now and shook her out of her memories. She put her hand on top of his as it rested on her belly. He was warm. She felt his wedding band. Her wedding band. She closed her eyes and smiled.

How was I to know that "happy," as I understood it then, was merely "satisfied"? How was I to know that HE was out there? This man, Roger Lococco, who turns me inside out and makes me feel things that I’ve never even read about in books, let alone felt before myself?

She tenderly raised his inert hand to her mouth and kissed it. "I love you," she whispered. "I love you more than life. I could never survive without you now."

The hand moved slightly in hers as if to affirm her declaration of undying love. Still holding it, against her heart now, she fell back into a slumber. This time, without images flashing through her mind.

* * *

"The Michaels fellow," the current day version, was intensely occupied over the next few days in a grand attempt to get the maximum cash flow for a 1971 Corvette he and Roger had acquired. He had taken over all of their domestic car business while Roger handled the foreign jobs.

So Maggie had no contact with him at all during this heightened dream state she was undergoing. And that, she decided, was a good thing. Seeing him, experiencing him up close might possibly strengthen the next dream right up to "disturbing" level. Nightmare quality.

She hadn’t told Roger about them. Why should she? He certainly wouldn’t care to hear that his loving wife was dreaming in explicit detail about her old life with her ex-husband. So she attributed it all to the new hormonal therapy pills she’d been taking for her endometriosis and tried to forget about the dreams (and the moving memories they triggered) during the daylight hours.

And her efforts to ignore were amazingly successful. She spent most of her days at Park Palisades and then returned home to her exceptionally fine husband where either she’d cook a superb dinner or they’d try out yet another new restaurant in this still-new-to-them city.

That all lasted about a week. Until the next dream.

In this one, she and Earl Ray had been "a couple" for eight months and were engaged to be married in less than three more months. She’d already moved into his three-bedroom house with him. People all over town told them they were the "sunny" pair – that they gave off a glow together.

They were attending one of Scottie’s wild and unpredictable parties – this one a throwback to those early ‘80s swingers parties where the men all put their car keys into a collective bowl so that the women could draw them out randomly at the party’s end and go home with the keys’ owner.

Earl Ray, of course, had opted not to participate. And Scottie, of course, gave him hell for it.

"Oh, c’mon, man! You gotta get all the free tail you can before you shackle up with the ol’ ball and chain here!" Scottie winked at Maggie who scowled at him, saying nothing.

"Naw, man. Thanks but no thanks. You got nothing here, LaMont, that even comes close to what I know I’m taking home with me tonight," Earl Ray told him as he pulled Maggie closer to him with an arm around her waist.

As dreams often do, this one jumped in time. The next scene she came to was Scottie’s deck a little later in the party. It was quieter out here. Earl Ray had just gone back inside to get them another drink, and she waited alone.

Then, out of the darkness of the unlit backyard, a stunning figure emerged, dressed completely in black. Only his light brown hair and blue eyes stood out against the night as he crept elegantly and silently up the steps of the deck. Maggie gasped involuntarily and backed up a step.

"I didn’t scare you, did I?" the stranger asked her with a voice that made her think of smooth silk. He stood still and smiled.

"Uh, no……….I just had no idea anyone else was out here." He had scared her, but she hid it.

He laughed very quietly. "Sorry. I came ‘round from the front……….It got a little loud in there for my taste." He extended his hand out of black leather. "I’m Roger Lococco."

She shook his hand and was surprised to find it warm. "Can you see in the dark? It’s pitch black out there."

He smiled for a second. "I manage……….You a friend of Scottie’s?"

Suddenly she realized she was staring at him and hadn’t returned his introduction. "Oh, I’m Maggie Denison."

"So you’re Maggie! Earl Ray talks ‘bout you non-stop."

"Does he now?" She smiled at him for the first time.

Roger shifted around on his feet, almost nervously. "Yeah, we go way back, Michaels and me……..even to ‘Nam………Hey, didn’t I see you over at that Giverny Bistro?" He squinted as he peered at her.

"Probably. That’s where I work," she answered, hoping it hadn’t come out sarcastically.

"Giverny………Didn’t Monet paint a garden there or something?"

Maggie beamed. A very intelligent man. But before she could discuss it further with him, Earl Ray was back on the deck handing her a full glass.

"This one’s spoken for, Lococco. Go put your damn keys in the bowl like everybody else." Earl Ray chuckled.

Roger made a tiny snarling expression. "Nobody gets my keys, man. I’ll just look around and take the pick of the litter before it gets to that point."

Earl Ray laughed. "And as usual, you won’t have a damn bitta trouble……….So you met my lovely bride-to-be?"

"We met, honey," Maggie said.

"Yeah, you did an excellent job, Michaels."

Now Earl Ray beamed. "Yeah, I think so too. Did she tell ya what LaMont’s giving her for a wedding present?"

"Not yet."

"He’s setting her up with her own restaurant! Not too far from my store. She’ll be a real business owner."

Roger raised his eyebrows to her. "Is that so? Whatcha plan to call it?"

"I was considering ‘The Sanctuary,’" she said.

"Roger’s buying that Viper Lounge, baby. He’s gonna turn it into a respectable bar."

"Is that so?" She raised her eyebrows to Roger.

"Maggie! Get your sweetcheeks in here and dance with me! Right now! I’m the host of this here shindig, and I call the shots!" Scottie had stuck his head out the door and yelled to her.

She laughed and almost spit her drink out. He’d startled her. "Whatever you say, Scottie. I’ll leave the boys out here to chat. Nice to meetcha, Roger."

"The pleasure was all mine, Maggie." He smiled that irresistible smile at her, and she understood why he never had a "damn bitta trouble" with the ladies.

"Come and rescue me in a few, sweetheart." She kissed Earl Ray on the mouth and hurried inside.

But that was as far as the scenario went. Maggie woke up again. Woke up with a dark, cold feeling all around her. Her heart seemed to be encased in ice and couldn’t break free. The dream had almost exactly matched history.

But God, that was a long time ago. Everything was different now. Oceans and oceans of water under the bridge.

Scottie, who’d given her Earl Ray and her beloved restaurant, now numbered among the deceased. His own evil lifestyle had finally caught up with him in his own hometown.

The Sanctuary and the Viper Lounge, hugely successful establishments and cornerstones of the town, had been quickly and sadly sold when she and Roger had to abandon everything they loved and flee for their safety. Everything except each other.

And Earl Ray. The horrors she’d put him through made her cry silently now in the dark.

She’d divorced him after five wonderful years of marriage – when she’d discovered that his best friend was her real destiny, the true soulmate she’d been looking all her life for. He’d been a fabulous loving husband, almost perfect, making it difficult beyond words for her to follow her heart and leave him for Roger.

Now Earl Ray was here in Portland with them, forming a bizarre, close-knit triangle. They all understood that Maggie belonged to Roger now, but they all also seemed to accept the arrangement and to be satisfied with the way life was now.

And Roger. She turned on her side to see him as he snoozed peacefully next to her. He faced her, lying on his side too.

He’s just as arresting and stunning now in this bed as he was then walking slowly up those deck stairs, she thought. He understands me and takes care of me better than I know how to do myself. And he doesn’t even mind that I can never have a child for him.

He’s definitely and absolutely "the one." My be-all, end-all. The very center of my being. Whatever it took to get here, and it certainly took a lot, no matter what the cost, and the price had been astronomical, he’s been worth it. I love him insurmountably.

But Maggie still felt sweetly sad. The melancholy ring around her heart refused to be broken. Too-real dreams about dead people and dead places made her realize that the past had not faded in her mind with the passage of time. All the knock-you-down irony was disquieting.

She reached over and softly caressed Roger’s forehead where his hairline began and wasn’t surprised that it was enough to wake him.

His blue eyes flew open, but he remained perfectly still as he scanned her face in the tiny bit of streetlight slipping in through the blinds. "Hey, baby." It was the same quiet, silky voice he’d used on Scottie’s deck so many years ago.

"Hey, honey."

"What’s wrong?"

"Nothing’s wrong………..I was just……….thinking……..‘bout how things used to be," she whispered.

"Before you and me?"

"Before and since."

"C’mere, baby." He reached out to her, and she was instantly in his arms. She felt all the warmth of his body comforting her as he held her against him. The ring of ice melted quickly.

"Nice to hear you say ‘since’ ‘cause I hadn’t planned on there being an after you and me."

"Me either, Roger."

"I love you. You know that."

"Me too, Roger."

"Now go back to sleep. You been tossing and turning and laying over there awake too damn much lately."

Of course, he knew. He always knew.

"Okay, Roger. I think I’m fine now."

"Ah, you’re positively fine, baby. So fine you drive me crazy………But you gotta sleep."

"Okay, Roger. I think I can sleep better now………..Thanks."

To read more about how Maggie and Roger became a couple, go over to Upheaval Parts I and II where Maggie is known as "Julie."