Maggie's Fork in the Road (Montana Bound Series Book 2)

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Maggie's Fork in the Road (Montana Bound Series Book 2) Page 9

by Bradley, Linda


  I glanced down as she tugged at my elbow.

  “This is grand,” Chloe said. “I don’t think I’ve ever been any place this fancy before.”

  I smiled. Grand? By the sounds of it, she must have been watching Annie again. Thoughts of John and his dad’s Montana ranch filled my mind. How was she going to adapt to that adjustment? The promise of wide-open land surrounded by majestic mountains and brilliant blue sky sounded like a dream. Would she like it there? Of course she would.

  “Every day is a new adventure,” I uttered under my breath, thinking about the responsibility I owned, questioning the position I’d put myself in, and worrying about the future. I hated how I carried the nagging unknown along like an invisible ball-and-chain. “We’re meeting your mom later,” I reminded Chloe. “She said she would call or send me a text.”

  Chloe beamed, her jack-o’-lantern smile changed again with the loss of another bottom tooth. Her cheery disposition reminding me this was about her, not me.

  I remembered back to exasperation, tired nights, and long days with Bradley that trumped my own needs and dreams. Mom used to say, “It’s not about you anymore.” She was right, but now Bradley was off on his own, Beckett was on his own and I stood in a glamorous hotel lobby with an eight-year-old, who wasn’t mine. Chloe had grown on me like a slow creeping fungus at first, but somehow she’d blossomed into an exotic creature that I adored. She’d barged into my life, made me question my very existence, my purpose, my next adventure.

  “Look at the fountain, Maggie, and the skylight. The floor is so shiny,” Chloe said.

  Mom was right.

  It wasn’t about me.

  “Mom,” Chloe said, sliding across the immaculate floor and into her mom’s arms.

  “Hey, baby girl,” Brook said back as she bent down to Chloe’s level.

  A thin smile lifted my heart with high hopes of a successful trip. Brook’s hair swayed as she lifted Chloe up for a big hug. Brook’s eyes met mine, her message different than last summer. This time she wasn’t wearing Daisy Dukes and a T-shirt with an attitude. Her face seemed softer, glowing, genuinely pleased to see her daughter.

  I made eye contact with the receptionist standing behind the counter. “Hello, I’m Maggie Abernathy. I have a reservation.” With one eye on the clerk and one eye on Brook and Chloe, I dug out my credit card.

  “She’s a beautiful lady,” he said with lustful eyes.

  I waited for the familiar twinge of jealousy, but when it didn’t come, I smiled. “Yup, you got that right. Amazing how beautiful a child can be,” I said, admiring my spin on the situation.

  The clerk’s face soured.

  “We have two queen beds, correct?” I asked as his fingers tapped over the keyboard. Leaning against the cool marble counter, I watched his eyes follow Brook. I read his nametag. Phillipo. He handed me the keys to our room.

  “Is that your daughter?” he asked.

  “Nope, that’s her daughter,” I replied, nodding in Brook’s direction. Zipping up my bag, I headed over to fountain where Brook and Chloe sat chatting. Chloe’s long hair fell into her face as she bent over to touch the water. With four-inch heels on, Brook towered over me when she stood to greet me. “Hey, there. Thought you were going to call.”

  “We had a break. Malfunctioning technology. So I thought I’d surprise you.” Brook ruffled the top of Chloe’s head.

  Chloe took her hand out of the water and ogled at her mom. “You look beautiful.”

  Brook beamed. And Chloe was right. The spectacular skylight overhead flooded Brook with natural light. My eyes followed the contour of her cheekbones down to her dusty pink lips. “You look great,” I said.

  “So do you. Have you been working out?” she asked.

  I laughed. “Not quite, but thanks.” Brook sure didn’t emulate the age of forty.

  Chloe grabbed my hand. “Mom says we can go back to the shoot with her.”

  Chloe’s puppy-dog eyes in combination with Brook’s pleading expression got the better of me. “Sounds great. How about I make sure our luggage gets to the room?”

  “We’ll come with you.” Chloe tugged at her mom’s hand. “Come on, Mom. I can’t wait to see my bed. Maggie said it’s fit for a queen.”

  The elevator door opened. Chloe stood between us. The mirrored walls told an interesting story of a child, her exquisite model mother, and me, the lady next door. Brook caught my attention in the reflection and smiled a toothy grin. I responded with a grin trying to hide my wandering thoughts. I fiddled with the plastic keycard to our room.

  “Before I forget,” Brook said, “thanks.”

  Taken aback by her sincerity, I froze. “You’re welcome.”

  Chloe slid her hand in mine. Her bright eyes stared through me and the story in the mirrored walls portrayed a twist in the plot, a child nestled between her biological mother and a friend who loved her as her own.

  The elevator chimed.

  “This is our floor,” I said.

  We followed the arrows to our room.

  The bellhop stood outside the door with an empty cart. “Your bags are all settled, ma’am.” He nodded and held the door open for us.

  “Thank you.” I handed him a tip then he left.

  Brook sauntered to the window and peered out. She was rail thin in her dark denim skinny jeans. Chloe hopped up on one of the beds and did a little jump then plopped down and swished her arms and legs like she was making a snow angel.

  “Wow-wee-wow.” She giggled, took a deep breath, then sat up. “Can we go now? I want to see where you work!”

  Brook turned, then ran her fingers through her long hair. “Sure, if it’s okay with Maggie.”

  I unzipped my suitcase and found my makeup bag. “Let me use the bathroom and splash some water on my face.”

  Chloe unzipped her bag. She produced a box wrapped in blue paper then held it out to her mother. “Here, this is for you.”

  Brook sat next to her daughter on the bed. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting a present.” She rattled the box.

  Chloe blew loose strands of hair away from her face.

  Goosebumps covered my forearms. I closed the bathroom door and stared in the mirror. Fine lines from stress crept across my forehead. I splashed cold water on my cheeks. Doubt that I could ever have anything with John emerged. Girlie chatter behind the door only spurred the fact John’s previous marriage would remain between us, along with Bradley and Beckett. I patted my face dry, applied some foundation, and freshened up my mascara. Running my fingers through my wavy hair, I gave myself a pep talk. When I opened the door, Brook was brushing Chloe’s hair. She had a macaroni necklace dangling around her neck.

  “Do you like it?” she asked.

  “Exquisite,” I answered, admiring the pattern of pink and orange pasta against her stark white blouse.

  Chloe laughed. “You two are funny.” She shook her head. “It’s just macaroni. It’s not like it’s Tiffany.”

  Brook pursed her lips and batted her ultra-long lashes. “A girl after my own heart.”

  “Tiffany, huh. I didn’t know about that until I was in my twenties,” I said. “Not much of a jewelry hound.”

  Brook seemed dismayed.

  “I guess I was sheltered,” I added. “What can I say?”

  Chloe’s eyes dimmed. “Yeah, some of the girls have Tiffany necklaces at school.”

  “Barnyard?” I questioned.

  “Yup, and she’s always flaunting it like she’s so great.”

  Chloe rolled her eyes at me.

  “Barnyard?” Brook questioned.

  “Yeah, she’s that girl at school I slugged. She’s a pain,” Chloe said, stroking Voodoo’s back. “She’s the one who makes fun of me. She’s mean.”

  Brook’s gaze met mine. A flash of motherly worry flickered in her eyes. “Who could mean to you?” she asked, tucking Chloe’s hair behind her ear.

  I nodded at Brook and crossed my arms.

  “She doesn’
t believe you’re my mom. She says I’m ugly.” Chloe took a deep breath. “She’s stupid.”

  Brook’s left eyebrow arched with concern. “Well, you’re here now and we’re going to have a blast.” She kissed Chloe on the forehead.

  I knew Chloe was thinking about career day at school. I also knew that visiting her superstar mom was not the same as having her visit school. “Let’s not give old Barnyard the sense of satisfaction by sitting around here talking about her.”

  “She’s pretty dumb,” Chloe said, looking her mother in the eye. “Are you sure you can’t make it to career day?”

  Brook touched Chloe’s cheek. “We’ve been over this before. I can’t make it.”

  Chloe pouted. “Fine.” She stood up and snapped to attention. “How do I look?”

  I grinned as she inspected herself in the mirror.

  “You look perfect,” Brook said. “Shall we?” Then Brook checked her watch. “Oh, we better get going,” she said, nudging Chloe out the door. I grabbed my bag and followed.

  The wind caught Brook’s mane as we hustled to catch a cab. She stepped from the curb, stuck her fingers between her teeth, and whistled. Chloe and I stood by each other’s side, amazed at Brook’s talent. A yellow cab stopped for us. Brook took Chloe’s hand and helped her into the back seat.

  “Where are we going?” Chloe asked.

  “The Bean,” Brook said.

  “What’s that?”

  The cab swerved to the left as we passed Water Tower Place and a crowd on the sidewalk.

  “Whoa, this is fun.” Chloe held on to her mom’s arm. “But what is this Bean thing all about?”

  “You’ll see when we get there,” Brook said, digging into her oversized Louis Vuitton bag.

  My eyes took in the passing scenery. Beckett and I had brought Bradley to Chicago when he was about ten. We were happily together, or so I thought. I couldn’t help but grin about the day we spent at Disney Quest. Beckett had gotten sick after riding Aladdin’s Magic-Carpet Ride in 3-D, while I rocked it out on the life-sized Daffy Duck pinball against some hefty ball player who did not take defeat well. Bradley had cheered with his fists in the air as I strutted around like Rocky Balboa when declared the winner. The victory celebration consisted of burgers and milkshakes at Ed Debevic’s. I hoped Chloe would leave Chicago with some fond memories as well.

  “Wow, check out all the shops. Can we go shopping?” she asked.

  Brook glanced in my direction. “Not sure if I’ll have time, but we’ll try.”

  I smiled trying to hide my skepticism as usual. “The Bean,” I said, pointing. The shiny metal sculpture shone in the sun. Beckett and I also visited without Bradley. Beckett attended an art conference while I roamed the city and explored the stores. We had a romantic dinner at the top of the Hancock building where he’d given me an anniversary ring. In hindsight, the loving token represented something different for him. He was trying hard to make things right, live an acceptable life with a wife, and be a father to his child. I inspected my plain hands with no jewelry. The ring was tucked away at home next to the gold wedding band I used to wear, a time capsule meaning nothing but a sliver of time spent together, documented by some metal and stones tucked away in my sock drawer-never to be worn again. A thin grin tugged at the seam of my lips. Beckett was gay. I accepted that. Life was funny and each time I thought about it my heart seemed a little lighter.

  “Hey, Maggie,” Brook shouted. “Come on. Get your head out of the clouds.”

  I slid across the vinyl taxi seat. The creepy driver with the gold teeth smiled. The heebie-jeebies crawled across my skin like maggots in a horror film. I jumped out of the cab, shaking off his leer. “Gross,” I muttered, repositioning my purse across my body. Brook’s stare unnerved me. Was she judging my choice of attire? “What?” I asked, stepping closer.

  “You’ve got a good look going on,” she said. “I like that bag.”

  “Thanks. I bought it in an airport. Who would have known? Not sure what kind it is,” I said, knowing she was dressed from head to toe in designer clothing. I could never feel comfortable in shiny stilettos and skinny jeans.

  “Those Frye boots?” she asked.

  “Yeah, they’re my favorite.” I raised up the leg of my faded boot cut jeans to show her the brushed buckle on the side.

  “I’ll have to get some of those. Super cute.” She winked at Chloe.

  Chloe smiled then grabbed her hand. Blue sky and sunshine reflected off The Bean’s shiny exterior giving us another splendid view of the great city. A makeshift fence surrounded the structure marking off the area where Brook’s people were shooting. Pedestrians stood by ogling over the production.

  Brook gestured for me to follow her and Chloe. “Over here,” she shouted as she trotted through a discrete entryway to the shoot.

  Two brawny bald guys stood at the opening. I wasn’t sure if they were security or models with the flashy sunglasses. They didn’t flinch as Brook moseyed past. My eyes scanned their bulging muscles.

  The shorter of the two grabbed my arm. “Where you going?”

  “I’m with Brook.” I called out to her, “Hey, Brook.”

  Her hair bounced over her shoulder like she was in a shampoo commercial. “That’s Maggie, she’s with me. And this is my daughter, Chloe.”

  “Hi guys,” Chloe said.

  Bruiser let go of my arm.

  “Sorry, thought you were one of those ladies that’s been trying to make their way in here all day.” He nodded to a group of middle-aged women huddled together in high heels lurking near the plastic fence.

  I rolled my eyes. “Hardly,” I mumbled, inspecting his rock-hard biceps.

  Chloe yanked at my hand. “Come on, Maggie.”

  A man with a camera kissed Brook on the cheek. “Get yourself ready. We’re back up and ready to roll.”

  Brook kissed the top of Chloe’s head. “This is my girl, Chloe, and our friend, Maggie.”

  “Hi, girls, nice to meet you,” the man with the camera said with a wink.

  Chloe waved. I nodded hello. Brook thought of me as a friend. Who knew?

  “I’m Fletcher Thompson. You can come with me. You from around here?”

  “No. We live in Michigan,” Chloe answered.

  “My aunt lives in Ann Arbor,” he told us.

  “We live in Grosse Pointe,” Chloe replied. “Are you taking the pictures today?”

  “Yup.” He snapped a few frames as Chloe spoke. “See those ladies over there in the chairs?” Fletcher pointed to a trio of models getting made up. Hairbrushes and makeup brushes flitted about as the women batted their long, black fake eyelashes that matched Brook’s.

  “Yeah,” Chloe said, shading her eyes.

  “Those are the models. Pretty special. Your mom’s in the middle.”

  Chloe squinted. “Yup, that’s her. You know Maggie took some pictures of my mom before. Last summer. At our park.”

  Fletcher lowered his glasses. “I saw those. They were really good.”

  Heat washed over me. “Thanks.” Tongue-tied and embarrassed, I clammed up. His gaze connected with mine. A flicker of attraction rustled my nerves. “I’m working on a new project,” I added, not sure if taking photos of cows equated to anything in his world of half-naked models and jet setting.

  “You’ve got talent. I’m sure whatever you’re doing, you’ll do great.”

  I glanced over to Brook then down to Chloe. Fletcher’s stare focused on me. My palms sweated. “Thanks,” I said. “Can we get closer to the models? See what they’re doing over there?”

  “Sure. Stay away from Jose or you just may end up in the shoot yourself.”

  “That would be cool.” Chloe couldn’t contain her enthusiasm. “Then I’d really have something to show Barnyard.” She gawked at Fletcher and cocked her head to the side. “She’s a mean girl at home. That’s not really her name. That’s just what I call her. She-is-not-nice.” Chloe’s finger waggled to and fro as she ma
de her point.

  Fletcher snickered and snapped more photos as she explained her situation. “I know the type.” His eyes flickered as he talked. “Excuse me, I’ve got to get going, the light is perfect. Nice to meet you, Chloe. Maggie, it was a pleasure.”

  He leaned in closer. “Seriously, stay away from Jose, although I wouldn’t mind seeing you in my viewfinder.”

  “I’d rather be on your side of the camera,” I told him.

  “That could be arranged, too.”

  My gut twisted at the attention and my cheeks smoldered with embarrassment.

  Chloe held my hand. “Let’s go see my mom.”

  “Sure.”

  “I think he likes you,” Chloe said.

  “I think he likes all women.”

  Chloe laughed. “Not sure what that means, but you’re probably right.”

  Brook’s hair was wound in a tight bun on top of her head. She had ultra-black lashes, a mile long, and ruby-red lips. The man with the makeup dusted her skin with powder. When the sun caught her cheekbones, it sparkled making her shine like an Egyptian queen.

  “Look how pretty my mom looks,” Chloe awed.

  “Yeah,” I said, taking note of strapless white dress. Heavy gold beads the size of golf balls adorned her neck. Her platform heels seemed even higher than the heels she had on with her jeans. She winked at Chloe.

  Chapter 15

  Chloe’d never been so quiet. We were both mesmerized by the action around us, the wardrobes, the hair, the makeup, Jose, the eccentric coordinator who flitted about chirping orders and coaching models. The scene was enchanting, something from America’s Next Top Model.

  The sun warmed the city and life buzzed like worker bees in a hive. We were on the cusp of summer, a time of rejuvenation and dreams, and it was turning out to be a great day.

  I was completely absorbed by Brook’s world.

  “Hey, girls. No one sits around without working it,” Jose said with a snap of his fingers. “Let’s go.”

  Before I knew it, he had Chloe and me by the hand pulling us toward the makeup chairs.

 

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