“I’m here until six. Just have me paged when she arrives.”
“Perfect. I’ll call her now.” Carly rushed into the hallway before Travis could stop her. She might be excited to have him under her roof, but her mother sure as shit wouldn’t be. In fact, he should be afraid of going there. Maggie might kill him in his sleep or, at the very least, slowly poison his food. Maybe he should agree to the rehab center.
The doctor made a few more notes on her tablet on her way out of the room, passing Carly in the doorway. His daughter’s cheeks were flushed a bright pink.
“Did you get a hold of your mom?” Travis asked.
“She just got out of the shower. She’ll call me back.”
“Probably thought you were joking. She needed a few minutes to get her laughter under control.”
“She didn’t laugh.”
“What did she say?”
Carly sighed and leaned against the bed. “She said, ‘Travis? Here?’ You know, in that high pitched voice she uses when she’s in a panic.”
“Probably got the neighborhood dogs howling.”
“Nah, she was just surprised.” She sat on the edge of his bed and rolled the bedside table toward him. “You didn’t eat all your breakfast.”
“And I’m not going to. I can’t take much more of this gruel.”
“I’ll make sure you’re well fed at our house.”
“You cook?”
“I’m a great cook. I’ve been working through Grammy’s old recipes. I made chicken and dumplings two weekends ago.”
“This is starting to sound like a good idea. How do you plan to keep your mother and I separated? We’ve been known to go a round or two.”
“Maybe this will be an opportunity for the two of you to learn to get along.”
He ran his hand over the fuzzy patch on his head, doubting that would ever happen. “Don’t count on it.”
“If you tried to be nice, she might be nice in return.”
“Me? What about her?”
“Dad, stop it. You love to pick on her and you know it. Sometimes I think you derive some kind of sick joy in making her cry.”
“Pff. Cry?” He tossed off the covers, suddenly too warm. “Trust me, Maggie Timbrook would never cry over me or something I said.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. You’ve made her cry plenty.”
A cold wave crashed over Travis, leaving him depleted. When had he made Maggie cry? She had sobbed when Carly broke her arm on the playground and when she had a fender-bender and during the recent flood at the bar, but she’d never shed a tear over him. Her eyes had been dry the night before she’d left him.
* * *
Their cramped apartment was cleaner than he had ever seen it in the two years they had lived there. Uncluttered and neat as a pin like the day they had moved in. Maggie must have been bitten by the cleaning bug—about damn time.
He tossed his rucksack on the sofa before heading toward the kitchen, stopping just inside the doorway. The countertops were bare, the sink was empty, and a tangy smell of disinfectant hung in the air. She’d outdone herself cleaning the apartment to the point that he now had a sick feeling churning in his gut.
It was too clean. Too quiet.
He rushed back through the living room, pushing open the bathroom door and finding it spotless. Where were the towels that usually hung on the racks? And Maggie’s makeup bag that sat on the toilet tank?
Afraid of what he’d find, he tipped his head inside the bedroom door and sucked in a sharp breath. The mattress was stripped naked. Frantically pulling out dresser drawers, he found only his own clothes still stuffed inside. All of Maggie’s and Carly’s clothes were gone. The closet was mostly empty, and her suitcase was gone. She had left him.
He shouldn’t be surprised.
The night before he’d left for a month-long training exercise, they’d had their biggest fight. He’d gone out with his buddies from the base, and when he came in after midnight, she had been waiting up, sitting on the sofa with her arms crossed. He knew immediately he was in some deep shit because Maggie usually was asleep when he came home.
“Hey, hon, what are you doing up?” He’d eased beside her on the sofa and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, hoping some sweet-talking would cool her down.
“I’m done.”
“What?”
“This.” She threw out her arms. “All of this. I’m done. I’m not putting up with it any longer.”
“Maggie, baby, what’s gotten into you?” He nuzzled his mouth against the soft spot at the base of her neck, the place that always got her going. But instead of curling into his arms, she jabbed her elbow into his ribs.
“Forget it. That won’t work this time.”
“Mag, come on.”
“I’m sick of this little apartment. I’m sick of being alone all the time.” She jumped off the couch, grabbing a throw pillow and punching it across the room. “I miss my mom and dad and Penny. I want to go home.”
“We’ll go home on my next leave.”
“I want to go now. Every time I try to talk to you about what’s wrong with us, you shut me down.”
“There’s nothing wrong with us.”
He stood up, pulled her into his arms, and tickled his finger below her chin, forcing her to look at him. As he eased in for a kiss, she sprinted away.
“Oh my God, you can’t be serious. When was the last time you spent any time with Carly and me?”
“I have to work.”
“You spend more time with your friends than you do us. Come home every night drunk.” “I’m not drunk.”
“I’m sick of it.”
“Sick of me, you mean.”
Maggie hugged her arms around her middle, letting her chin drop to her chest, and spoke in a whisper. “Yes. Sick of you. I missed my senior year playing varsity softball and going to my prom.”
“So you want to go back to high school? Is that it?”
“I always wanted to be in the senior play. Two years of my life have disappeared, and I’ll never get them back.”
“Sorry, sweetheart, but that ship has sailed. You’re a wife and mother now.”
“Don’t remind me.”
Their eyes locked. His heart pounded as he watched disappointment and regret wash over her face.
“Well, I’m sorry Carly and I are such a disappointment. I’m doing the best I can”
“So do I.”
“I work my ass off every day, went to Afghanistan and nearly got blown up, pay all the damn bills around here, and for what? To come home to a filthy house and a nagging wife.”
“I wouldn’t nag if you’d give me a minute of your attention.”
“I don’t need this shit.”
“I’m here all day alone with Carly, and the minute you walk in the door, you walk right back out again. Sometimes you don’t bother coming home at all.”
“Bullshit.” Travis crossed the room a bit unsteadily toward the kitchen and pulled a beer from the refrigerator.
“Have you even looked at your daughter lately? She’s growing. She needs some clothes and shoes.”
“I get paid next week.”
“We can’t afford to buy her anything because you spend all of our extra money at the bar.”
“Jesus, here we go again.” He took a long pull on his beer as Maggie stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. “What about you? What about all those fashion magazines piling up on the table? They aren’t free, you know.”
“I can’t take this anymore.”
“So what are you saying?” He spun around and slammed the beer can on the counter. “You’re leaving me?”
Her chin quivered, but her eyes were cold as steel. He had to do something. This fight had gone on too long.
“I’m just a little stressed. Okay, Mag? It’ll be better when I get back from training. I’ll only be gone a month this time.” He rubbed his hands up and down her arms while she stood as rigid as stone, refusing to l
ook at him. “Everything will be better when I’m back.”
“I don’t think so,” she murmured.
“It will be. I promise.” He pulled her against his chest, but her arms remained at her side. She stood like a flagpole, solid and unbending. “Baby, come on. We’ll get it all worked out.”
“No. I won’t be here when you get back.”
“What?”
“I’m leaving.” She slipped out of arms and walked out of the kitchen.
“The hell you are.” He cut off her path to the bedroom. “You’re not leaving me, you hear?” His hand cupped her breast and, as he leaned in for a kiss, she turned her cheek. “We’ll get this straightened out, okay? I just need a little time. We can’t do this with me leaving tomorrow.”
Stoic and determined, she kept her face turned away. This was serious. She should be crying, showing some kind of emotion, even curling into his arms. She was really leaving him. Travis felt his heart rip in two.
“All we do is fight,” she murmured.
“No, we don’t.”
“Yes, we do.” Maggie squirmed out from under him and backed toward the bedroom.
“No—”
“You’re right. We don’t fight because you’re never here to fight.”
“I have to work.”
“And drink with your buddies every night. I’m done, Travis.” She slammed the bedroom door and clicked the lock.
Travis pounded his fist against the wood until he thought it would break, but Maggie refused to open up. He slept on the couch that night and left before dawn, leaving while Maggie and Carly were still asleep.
He’d hoped she’d be here when he returned, but she’d made good on her promise.
Walking back through the near-empty apartment, he found a note on the kitchen table. How the hell had he missed that? He unfolded the crisp, white piece of paper, finding a Dear John letter written in Maggie’s hand.
Dear Travis,
I meant what I said the night before you left. Carly and I have moved back home with my parents. In fact, I plan to file for divorce right away. It’s for the best.
We were too young to get married and too young to be parents. We can’t do anything about the parent part except to love our little girl, but we can do something about our marriage. You’ve changed since joining the Air Force, and I’m sure I’ve changed. We aren’t the same two teenagers who fell in love at first sight over a spilt Coke. If I stayed, we’d only be more miserable.
I wish you the best, Travis, and hope you’ll always be safe. You can visit Carly anytime you want. I won’t stop you from being her dad. I just can’t be your wife anymore.
Maggie
Travis crumpled the letter in his fist and threw it against the wall. She had made good on her threats. She had left him and was even filing for divorce. Heat rose in his face and fury consumed him. He slammed his fist into the wall, creating a crater as big as his head. How the hell could she do this him? She severed their family. Took his daughter from him. What happened to for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health? He was struggling, couldn’t she see that? Kicked in the teeth just because he spent a little time with his friends. It took all he had to get through each day without seeing the explosion. Hearing the screams.
To hell with her.
The front door crashed into the wall as he rushed outside. He had some time off before he had to report back on base, and he knew exactly how he’d spend it.
Travis stayed drunk for three days.
* * *
Carly had this all wrong. Maggie wasn’t one to cry over anything he’d said. The fight that ended their marriage hadn’t brought out her tears, so why would she cry now? This was the first time he’d heard that Maggie cried over him. He’d always thought his smartass comments were taken in jest. She dished it back at him so he had no idea he’d hurt her feelings in the past. Maybe she was getting soft. Regardless, he had to make things right with her if he wanted to avoid the rehab facility.
“Well, if your mom agrees to let me stay, I’ll be on my best behavior. How’s that?”
“Perfect.” Carly rocked the rolling cart back and forth, keeping her gaze on the unfinished breakfast tray. “There is one more thing. You have to be nice to Buddy.”
“Don’t tell me he’s moved in already.”
“No, he hasn’t, but he’s there a lot. When he’s in town, he spends a lot of time camped out on the living room sofa, watching old movies even when Mom’s not home.”
“Why doesn’t he hang out at his own place?”
“He doesn’t have cable.”
“So he freeloads off your mom?”
“Basically. Eats all the ice cream, too.”
“Gee, this is going to be fun.”
* * *
Carly went home a little while later. She was scheduled to watch Darla’s twins for a few hours, which left Travis alone to think about living with Maggie. They hadn’t lived together for sixteen years, and he worried how it would go. Rarely could they have a pleasant conversation without it turning into a battle. If they didn’t get along, Maggie wouldn’t hesitate to kick his ass to the rehab center. He had to swallow all his snarky comments, respect her boundaries, and show consideration to Buddy. Being at the mercy of her hospitality left him no choice. He’d be a stellar guest even if it killed him.
He pressed the call button for some assistance, and within minutes the cute little blonde nurse who worked the morning shift came bouncing into the room.
“Need to use the bathroom, Mr. Kane?”
His face grew hot as fire. Another reason he needed to get out of there—his manhood was taking a beating. “No, just asking a favor.”
“Sure thing. What can I do for you?”
“Would you bring me some scissors and a razor? I’d like to cut off the rest of my hair. Even it up a little.”
“I’d be happy to do it for you.”
“That’s okay.” Good God, was there no end to the humiliation? “Just bring me an electric razor, some scissors, and a mirror, please. I can do it myself.”
“Absolutely. Would you like a Ziplock bag so you can take your dreads home with you?”
Travis shook his head. “I won’t need them where I’m going.” Maggie hated his hair—she’d made no secret of it. It would be irritating enough to have him living under her roof, so he didn’t want to do anything more to set her off. Maybe if he cleaned himself up, was a good guest, and showed her his appreciation by holding his tongue, a miracle would happen. They might become friends after all these years.
The nurse returned with an electric razor and several attachments, a pair of scissors, and a mirror which he propped up on the rolling cart. He slipped an adaptor over the blades and clicked the button, bringing the razor to life with a ticklish vibration.
“You sure you don’t need my help?” she asked.
“I got it.”
“Maybe it would be easier if you cut them off first with the scissors.”
“Maybe so.” Travis turned off the razor and set it aside, slipping his thumb and middle finger through the handle of the scissors.
“Mind if I watch? Better yet, would you like me to video it?”
“No, thanks.”
Travis held a rope of hair in his hand, drawing in a deep breath as he caught his reflection in the mirror. His life was about to change with one snip, but he was ready. He slowly squeezed the scissors, slicing through the thick, plaited strand, and fell back against the bed as he held the hair in his hand.
“You did it. How do you feel?”
Like he’d cut off an appendage. Nausea curled in his belly, and his hand felt numb.
“You sure you don’t want me to help? You need to be careful around your stitches.”
He couldn’t do this on his own. He knew that now. “Yeah, I’d appreciate some help.”
“Yes!” She pulled the scissors off his fingers. “I’ve always wanted to do this. My old boyfriend had dreads, but
he went to a barber to get them off.”
The nurse chattered as she snipped and clipped, dropping each rope into a pile on the cart. “My sister and I love doing each other’s hair. I thought about going to beauty school, but one of my high school teachers convinced me to do the nursing course at vo-tech. I’m a nursing assistant now, but I’m going for my RN next year. Pays better.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“I think so. I can still do hair for my friends for fun.”
“That’s true.”
“There. That’s the last one.” She held out a long, blond strand like a talisman and let it drop into the pile. Travis’s heart dropped with it. “Want to see what you look like?”
“Sure.”
She held the mirror out to him, and he found a much younger version of himself in the reflection. His hair was uneven and closely cropped to his head, too short to reveal his natural curl.
“How about I shape it up for you? I can trim it close on the sides and leave it a little longer on top. That’s the style now.”
“I’m not worried about style.”
“I guess you don’t need to.” She leaned her hip against the bed and lifted a rope from the pile, rolling it between her fingers. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you are way better looking without all that hair even though it’s not trimmed up yet. You’re totally hot for an old guy.”
“Wow, thanks.”
“I don’t mean, like, you’re super old. Just older than me.”
“How old are you?”
“Nineteen.” Standing tall and squaring her shoulders, she announced her age with pride.
“Just a year older than my daughter.”
“Really? You must’ve had her young.”
“I’m thirty-six.”
“Yep, you were young. Well, you look hot. The ladies better watch out.”
“Thanks . . .” He glanced at her name tag. “. . . Mindy. I appreciate your help. You did a great job.”
“Ready for me to even it up?”
“Give me a minute, will you?”
“Sure.” Mindy gathered the pile of braids in her hands, holding them out as an offering.“Do you want to keep these or throw them out?”
Whatever Love Means Page 10