by Neesa Hart
She was saved a retort by the ringing of the doorbell.
Scott waited a few seconds, then rang the bell again when no one answered Maggie’s door. The door was flung open. He stared into blank space for several moments before he thought to look down. Ryan was staring at him. “Hi, Ryan.”
“Hi.” Ryan craned his neck and tried to see behind Scott. “Did you bring Annie?”
Scott stepped into the foyer. “I don’t know. Did I?”
Ryan was still looking at the porch. “Hi, Annie.”
Scott started to unbutton his coat. Maggie walked into the foyer with a smile on her face that made his heart skip a beat. “Hi,” she said, crossing to him. She placed her hands over his. “I was afraid you wouldn’t make it.”
He grinned at her. “You were afraid I wasn’t coming.”
Maggie blushed. “Maybe.”
He shook his head, and continued unbuttoning his coat. “You’re a rotten liar, Maggie. I had to change planes in DC, and my flight got delayed on the ground. I’m sorry I’m so late.”
She looked at Ryan. “Honey, shut the door.”
He stepped aside, probably, Scott thought, to let the imaginary Annie into the house, before closing the heavy wooden door. “You’d better go and finish your homework,” Maggie told him. “We’re going to have to eat early to make your game at six.”
“OK, Mom.” He ran out of the room to disappear into the kitchen. He left the door swinging behind him.
Scott thought about the propriety of the situation, seriously contemplated taking time to ask Maggie how she had been since he’d left, and then decided against it. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her instead. His skin and lips were cool from the weather. The feel of her warm, cocoa-flavored mouth moving under his intoxicated him. “Ah, Maggie,” he said, before slanting his mouth over hers to deepen the kiss.
She threaded her fingers through the hair at his nape as she pressed against him. Scott nipped at her lower lip with his teeth, then reluctantly lifted his head. He reached up to brush the moisture off her mouth with his thumb. “Hi,” he said, his smile lazy.
She smiled back. “Hi, yourself. I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” He threw his head back for an instant. “You have no idea how I missed you. I was going to call you while I was in Dallas, but I was killing myself trying to get everything done and get back here. How have you been?”
Maggie stepped away from him. She helped him remove his coat. “All right. I’ve made a lot of progress on my designs. I feel really good about them.”
He waited while she hung his coat in the closet. “Good. I have my final meeting with the developers on Thursday, and then I’ve got to get the drafts finalized by close of business Friday.”
Maggie nodded. “Me too. In fact, I think that meeting Thursday is for all parties involved. I’m supposed to be there, too.”
“Maybe we’ll get a sneak preview of Jason Challow’s latest variation on the soap theme.”
Maggie laughed. “With any luck, you and Irene Fussman can talk about old times.”
Scott let out a tortured groan, but not without acknowledging that it felt good, really good, to laugh with Maggie again. As good as he remembered. Maybe better. He brushed a hand over her shoulder. “Maggie,” he said, lowering his head until his lips were just a fraction of an inch from hers.
“Hmmm?”
“Did I tell you I missed you?”
She nodded. “Once.”
“Will it be all right if I tell you again?”
“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”
Scott kissed her again. He waited until some of the desperation he felt passed before he lifted his head. “Sorry,” he said with a rueful smile. “I didn’t mean to be all over you as soon as I got here.”
Maggie took a deep breath. She grabbed his hand. “Come on.” She began leading him toward the kitchen. “I’ve got to get dinner started. You can sit in here and talk to me about it while I do.”
He followed her through the swinging door. “I’ll help you cook,” he volunteered.
Ryan looked up from the table. “You can cook?” he asked, clearly skeptical.
Scott shrugged. “Sort of. I’m great with fish sticks. I do a mean chicken noodle soup, and I’ve even been known to successfully execute brownies. Although there was the time I forgot the eggs and they came out like chocolate glue.”
“Oooh!” Ryan made a face.
Maggie pushed Scott down in a chair. “You can peel vegetables. I’ll handle the rest.”
Scott shrugged and dropped down in the chair, deciding he liked the feel of Maggie’s kitchen. He especially liked the feel of sitting in her house, talking to her, listening to her idle chatter with Ryan. It felt warm. It felt like a home. He accepted the bag of carrots and the carrot peeler she gave him. He pulled the trash can between his legs to catch the peels.
Ryan tossed a demolished magazine in the trash can. He picked up two pictures from the kitchen table. “I’m done, Mom.”
She looked over her shoulder. “Did you find a good picture of the president?”
“Yeah. He’s giving a speech to some guys.” He held it up before showing her the other one. “This one is Carson Lipter.”
“You didn’t tell me you were supposed to find a picture of the Bruins center.”
Ryan’s grin was sheepish. “This one’s for me.”
“I wouldn’t have guessed. All right. Go upstairs and glue that picture of the president on a piece of paper so you can write your sentence about it. Then you need to change and come on back downstairs. We’ll eat in about twenty minutes.”
He raced out of the room. Maggie set a bowl of salad down on the table in front of Scott. “You can slice those into here when you’re done peeling them. How do you like your hamburgers?”
“Medium.” He nodded his head in the direction of the swinging door. It was still creaking in Ryan’s wake. “Does he ever walk anywhere?”
She shook her head. “Never. And you should see him on the ice—” she stopped. “I didn’t think to tell you earlier. Ryan’s got a hockey game tonight, so I won’t be home until eight or so.”
“Great. I’d love to see him play. What time’s the game?”
Maggie frowned. “You want to go?”
Scott thought of the three hockey games he’d watched on television during the last week hoping to catch a glimpse of a Bruins jersey. “Sure. I’d love to go”
Maggie looked dubious. “But you must be exhausted.”
“Don’t worry about it. I want to go.” She still looked skeptical, and in truth, a little panicky. “Really.”
“You don’t have to,” Maggie hedged. She was starting to look really nervous.
“I know. I have a perfectly decent hotel room ten minutes across town.”
Maggie studied him a few more seconds before heading for the refrigerator. “I’m sure this is not your idea of a great evening.” She held up a bottle of salad dressing. “Is ranch OK?”
“It’s fine.”
“Here. Catch.” She floated it to him.
He set it down on the table with a plunk. “Look, about this hockey game—” he said.
“I told you you didn’t have to go.”
“I want to go, Maggie. I just don’t want to be in your way.”
She placed four frozen hamburgers on a broiler pan and cast him a quick glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He plucked a carrot from the salad bowl, and popped it into his mouth. “How well do you know these people, and are they going to think it’s weird that you’re there with me?”
She nearly dropped the pan. “What?”
He could tell by the strangled sound in her voice that he’d hit the mark. “I thought so.”
She slid the pan into the oven. She shut the door partway before turning around. “What are you talking about?”
Scott stood up and walked across the kitchen. He pinned her against the counter by placing his
hands on either side of her hips. “Maggie, things are moving fast for me, too. Don’t think they aren’t.”
“I don’t.”
“But these people are your friends. I’m sure you know most of the parents from Ryan’s hockey team.”
She nodded. “Most of them.”
“If you’re not comfortable answering questions about me, just say so. I’ll understand.”
Maggie stared at him for several seconds. Finally, she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged. “I was beginning to think maybe you were having second thoughts,” she said.
“When I didn’t call you?” he guessed. She nodded. “Maybe I was,” he confessed.
“Me too.”
“It’s been hard, Maggie. Missing Annie, wanting you, not knowing if I should want you, not knowing if you want me in return. What I’m feeling is very complicated, and I don’t think I could do a very good job of telling you about it even if I tried.”
She tipped her head back to look at him. “I feel the same way. I feel, well, guilty almost. Like maybe Mark wouldn’t approve of this.”
“You said that before, and I asked you if it mattered.”
She nodded. “I know. It’s just that he’s so real to Ryan. It’s like he’s a ghost, and Ryan talks to him.”
Scott pushed her hair off her face. “Ryan was talking to Annie when you came into the foyer earlier.”
“Oh, Scott, I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t bother me. Not really. Hell, I wish I could talk to her.”
Maggie nodded. “I was just thinking that about Mark this afternoon. Ryan got teased at school today because some of his friends overheard him talking to Mark.”
“Poor little guy.”
“It’s so real to him, almost as if he’s conjured him up. I was thinking about how I felt last week. Remember I told you how much I’d sensed Mark’s presence?”
Scott nodded. “I told you the same thing about Annie.”
“That’s right. Well, what if it’s the same for Ryan, only his imagination conjures them up?”
Scott shrugged. “It’s possible I guess.”
Maggie laid her cheek against his shirt again. “Scott?”
“Yeah?”
“What if they’re real?”
“Mark and Annie?”
“Yes.”
Scott looked around the room. “Then I’d say we’re in for a pretty rough ride,” he said, running a soothing hand down her spine.
Annie shot Mark a sideways glance and frowned. “This isn’t working.”
Mark leaned back in his kitchen chair. He continued to watch Scott stroke Maggie’s back. He snorted. “It looks like it’s working to me.”
“Stop being jealous.”
Mark met her gaze. “Stop being jealous? How the hell am I supposed to stop being jealous when that guy has his hands all over my wife?”
“She’s not your wife anymore, Mark. I think you’re going to have to get over that, or this is going to be a disaster.”
“Or a rough ride,” he said, echoing Scott’s comment.
“Come on. What have you got against Scott?”
“I don’t like him touching Maggie.”
“Besides that,” Annie said, not bothering to add that it wasn’t easy for her to watch either.
Mark’s expression stayed stubbornly disgruntled. “Nothing, I suppose.”
Annie reached over and squeezed his hand. “Don’t you want her to be happy?”
“Of course.”
“Then why are you fighting this so hard?”
He looked back at Scott and Maggie. “Because it hurts,” he said.
Annie felt tears scorch the backs of her eyes. “I know.”
Mark didn’t seem to hear her. “Do you know I take showers with her sometimes, just to pretend I can still touch her, that she’s still mine?”
Annie nodded. “Yes.”
“I sit by her bed and watch her sleep until it hurts so much I have to leave the room.” Annie kept quiet and waited for him to continue. “Every time she cries I fall apart a little bit inside.” He looked at Annie. “I hate this.”
Annie studied him for several long seconds before she held up her hand. “Look. Look at my hand.”
Mark frowned. “You’re fading. So what?”
“So I wasn’t fading in Dallas.”
“What do you mean?”
“When we got back to Dallas, I wasn’t fading. I was as solid as you are.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I think Scott needs Maggie to let go of me,” Annie said.
“So?”
“So I think Maggie can’t let of go of you until you let go, too.”
Mark’s frown deepened. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
Annie moved from her chair to stand in front of him so that she blocked his view of Maggie and Scott. “It makes a lot of sense, Mark. You can’t keep holding on to Maggie. You’re hurting her.”
“How can I be hurting her when she can’t see me? I’m not even real to her.”
“You’re real enough. Come on, Mark. Look me in the eye and tell me she didn’t cry one single time while I was gone with Scott.”
“Well, sure she did, but Maggie’s just like that. She cries all the time.”
Annie looked over her shoulder, then back at Mark. “I don’t think so. I think Maggie’s feeling a lot more fragile than usual right now, and that you’re tearing her to pieces.”
Seven
“I’m going to rip his head off.” Maggie jumped up and started stalking toward the ice.
Scott grabbed her hand to pull her back into her seat. “Maggie, calm down.”
“Calm down?” she said, outraged. “Did you see that? Did you see what that kid did to Ryan? He rode him right into the dasher boards.” She pointed an angry finger in the direction of the ice. “And there was no call.” She glared at the referee, and shouted, “Where’s the call?”
“Take it easy, Maggie. Ryan’s all right.”
She glared at him. “Only because of all those pads.” She returned her attention to the ice. She watched as Ryan collided with an opponent.
Her friend, Lily Webb, looked past Maggie’s intense profile at Scott. “Don’t even bother to try and calm her down,” Lily said. “She’s always been like that.”
Scott laughed. “I’d just like to keep her from killing anyone.”
Lily momentarily returned her attention to the ice. “Good shot, Franklin,” she encouraged when her son’s shot flew just shy of the goal.
Maggie watched Ryan take control of the puck. She felt her insides clench as he brought it out from behind the goal. “Come on, Ryan,” she yelled. He executed the shot with near flawless precision, sneaking it right through the corner and into the net. The goal light flashed on. Maggie felt a surge of adrenaline. She grabbed Scott’s arm and whooped. “Did you see that? Did you see that? That was great!”
Scott grinned at her. “Almost perfect.”
“What the hell do you mean almost?” She felt an irrational surge of anger.
“He really should have centered it more.”
“What?” She poked his chest. “Shows what you know, you big—” She stopped when Scott started to laugh.
“Maggie, I’m just yanking your chain. It was a great shot.”
She relented a little, warmed by the teasing light in his eyes. “It was, wasn’t it?” She barely noticed the buzzer sounding the end of the first period. She was distracted by Lily’s tug on her arm.
The look Lily gave her was very insistent. “Come on, Maggie, it’s the end of the period. Come to the rest room with me.”
Maggie shook her head. “I don’t need—”
“I want you to go with me,” Lily said, her gaze flashing momentarily to Scott. “I need to talk to you.”
Maggie gave in. Lily Webb had been one of the first friends she’d made in Cape Hope. Her vivacious personality and giving spirit had been a great com
fort to Maggie in the months following Mark’s death. She was short and slightly plump, and had the blackest hair Maggie had ever seen. Her husband adored her, as did everyone else who knew her, and it had taken Maggie only a few minutes to fall completely under her spell. Despite the fact that she knew Lily’s trip to the ladies’ room would undoubtedly end in what amounted to a rehash of the Spanish Inquisition, Maggie couldn’t deny her.
Lily wasted no time. She tugged Maggie through the rest-room door and impaled her with an eager look. “So?”
Maggie shrugged. She turned to inspect her reflection in the mirror. She brushed at a smudge on her cheek. “So what?”
Lily snorted. “Don’t play smart with me, Ms. Connell. So where did you find Adonis, and what are you doing with him?”
Maggie laughed as she turned around to face Lily. “I’m not doing anything with him.”
“Why the hell not?” Lily looked appalled.
“For heaven’s sake, Lily, we’re just friends.”
“Whose fault is that?” Lily pursed her red lips into a knowing smirk.
“You’re making a really big deal out of nothing.”
Lily looked at herself in the mirror. She brushed a curl off her forehead. It immediately fell back. She ignored it, and pulled on another. “Honey, I’d know that look in a man’s eyes anywhere, anytime. That man does not want to be your friend.”
“We just met, Lily. It would be highly inappropriate for us to be more than friends.” Maggie didn’t think it would be wise to discuss the heated kisses, or rapidly escalating passion, between her and Scott. Lily would undoubtedly draw the wrong conclusion.
“What do you mean it would be inappropriate? What, have you got some kind of rule book or something?”
Maggie hedged. “Something like that.”
Lily shot her a skeptical look. “You listen to me, Maggie-mine, that man’s a prize. An A-1 prize. Don’t you dare put him off because you’re hung up about propriety.” She paused, looking thoughtful. “Maybe Ryan should come home with us tonight. He and Franklin can have a slumber party.”
“Get a grip, Lil.”
She seemed not to hear. “If you’re not attracted, that’s one thing, but if you’ve got some cockamamy Southern idea about being genteel, forget it.”
Maggie shook her head, laughing. “That’s what I like about you, Lily. I can always count on your Opinion.”