When Joy Came to Stay by Karen Kingsbury Page A

his soul mate, his best friend. And whatever was troubling her yesterday, why it was nothing that couldn’t be made better with a bouquet of flowers. She loved red roses, especially when there wasn’t any special occasion.
    “It’s a celebration of our love,” Ben liked to tell her. And it was. She was the perfect woman, handpicked for him by God above. He loved her more than life itself.
    He thought of the roses again and grinned. He could hardly wait to see the expression on her face when he brought them home.
    Maggie had the strangest feeling…
    It was as if she were single again.
    As if by being even somewhat honest she had severed ties to Ben, to the man she married, the man to whom she been lying for nearly eight years.
    For that reason—or maybe because the little blond girl hadn’t yet made her daily appearance—Maggie was looking forward to her run in the park. For months it had been herfavorite way to spend the hour between finishing up at work and picking up the boys at their bus stop. The first lap was effortless, and as she ran Maggie thought about her columns, how they might help children caught in the foster system. They were a good influence on society, good for her career. Even if her personal life was falling apart, even if there were times when the darkness seemed overwhelming, she was still doing something useful. Helping in some small way.
    Maggie picked up her pace and as she rounded the corner of the trail, she saw a blur of motion near the playground, a hundred yards away From this distance it was hard to make her out, but then…
    Maggie pushed herself faster, her eyes trained on the child. Her view was better now. The child was swinging, while a teenager—a baby-sitter or older sister—sat with a teenage boy at a nearby picnic table.
Closer
, Maggie.
Get closer
. With only fifty yards between them she spotted the hair.
    Long blond curls. It was her! This time it wasn’t a mirage or a figment of her imagination or any other such thing. It was a living, breathing child, and Maggie was almost certain it was the same girl she’d been seeing.
Who is she, God? Why is she here?
    Maggie was sprinting now. She wouldn’t approach the girl, not yet. Not until she was absolutely sure it was her. Even then she didn’t want to scare the girl. Maggie kept running until she was parallel with the child. Glancing over her left shoulder she saw the girl’s face. Yes! It was her; there was no doubt in Maggie’s mind.
    Not sure what to do next, Maggie kept moving. Whatever terrible force desired her, it wouldn’t catch her here—not with the little girl so close.
If only I could talk to the child, ask her who her mother is, learn more about her. Then maybe I’d understand why my thoughts are so filled with her image
…Especially now, nearly eight years after—
    Run, Maggie! Faster…faster!
    Three laps around the park equaled a mile, and usually Maggie did no more than six laps. But as long as the little girl stayed on the swing, moving back and forth, smiling and unaware of her presence, Maggie kept running. Twelve laps, fourteen…sixteen…
    Finally, on the eighteenth lap, Maggie realized her heart was pounding erratically and her vision was blurred. She clutched her side, dropped her pace to an unsteady walk, and headed for the little girl.
    Without saying a word, Maggie dropped into the swing beside the child and smiled at her. “Hi. My name’s Maggie.”
    Before the girl could respond, Maggie felt a hand take hold of her upper arm and she spun around, jerking free from the grip. Fear sliced through her gut like a hacksaw.
God, please
,
no
…
    The man standing beside her wore a police uniform and a badge that glistened in the midafternoon sun. “Ma’am, I’d like to have a word with you, please.” He motioned toward a grassy area several feet away.
    “Nicky! Nicky!”
    At the sound of the child’s cries, Maggie turned back to her at once. The girl had jumped from the swing and was