by Neesa Hart
“It was fifty-seven degrees when I left Dallas,” Scott said, “and they were talking about record lows.”
“What a wimp,” Maggie said over her shoulder.
A snowball connected with the back of her head. She squealed. “Hey!”
Ryan dived for Scott’s legs. “I got him, Mom.”
Maggie picked up a clump of snow and hurled it at Scott. It hit him between the eyes just as he toppled to the ground. With Ryan on top of him, he tried to squirm away through the snow. Maggie pelted him with another snowball.
By the time Scott finally surrendered the fight, the three of them were soaked and shivering. Amid much laughter and good-natured teasing, Maggie hurried Ryan into the house for a hot bath. “And don’t come out until you’re pink,” she said, shutting the bathroom door.
Scott was standing right behind her. He pinned her to the wall. “I’m cold, too, Ms. Connell.”
“Hah!” she said. “I can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re not one bit cold.”
He nuzzled her neck. His lips were cool from the snow. Maggie felt a curl of heat work its way down to her toes. “How long do you reckon we have before Ryan gets tired of playing with his rubber ducky?”
“Not long enough for what you have in mind,” she said.
“How about a few kisses just to steam me up, then?”
Maggie curled her fingers around the back of his neck. “Is that all it takes?”
“Did I happen to tell you that you look incredibly sexy when you’re wet?”
Maggie shook her head. “No. You didn’t.”
Scott kissed her nose. “Well, you do. It kind of has me wondering what you’d look like in the shower.”
“Scott!”
He tipped her head back. “I’m cold, Maggie. Heat me up.” His lips came down on hers in a hot kiss that did indeed make her feel steamy. Her cold clothes felt almost soothing against her scorching-hot skin. Scott worked his way through the layers of her coat and sweater until his frigid fingers found the bare flesh of her stomach. Maggie gasped.
Scott slid his tongue between her lips. She sucked at it. “Ah, Maggie,” he said. “You feel so good. I want you so much.”
“Scott,” Maggie pressed against his hand. “Scott, I—”
A sudden light spilled into the hallway. Scott lifted his head to see Ryan, stark-naked, standing in the door of the bathroom, watching them. “I need some shampoo,” he said.
Maggie jumped. Scott eased her coat back into place. “Shampoo,” he said. “Where’s die shampoo, Maggie?” He wondered if his voice really did sound ragged.
“Hall closet,” Maggie choked out. She wrenched away from Scott, walked to the closet, and grabbed a bottle from the top shelf. She handed it to Ryan. “Here ya go, sweetie.”
Ryan tipped his head to look at her. “Were you guys kissing?”
Scott nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“How come?”
Maggie closed her eyes. Scott felt some of his equilibrium return. “Because it’s fun.”
Ryan frowned. “But you had your tongue in her mouth.”
Maggie groaned. Scott smiled at Ryan. “Sure did.”
“That’s gross.”
“You won’t think so when you’re older.”
Ryan shrugged. “I’d never do that. It’s disgusting.”
Scott gave Ryan a gentle push back into the bathroom. “Finish your bath, sport. You’re not supposed to come out until you’re pink, remember?”
Ryan wrinkled his nose, then closed the door. Scott looked at Maggie. “Mood broken?”
She opened her eyes. Her lips twitched in amusement. “You could say that.”
“Just for the record, Maggie,” he said, “there is nothing disgusting about having my tongue in your mouth.”
Maggie laughed. She pushed at his shoulders. “I’m going to change into something dry. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Sure you don’t need help?” he asked. He bent his head and gave her a soft kiss.
“Don’t start that again. No, I don’t need help.”
“Darn.”
“What I do need is for you to unload the stuff out of my car.”
“Okay.”
“Do you think you can put a bike together before tomorrow morning?”
He looked offended. “I’m an architect. I build things for a living. How hard can it be?”
“Famous last words,” Scott muttered two hours later as he sat amid a pile of nuts, bolts, and bike parts.
Annie leaned back on Maggie’s bed, watching him. “If you read the directions, it wouldn’t be so hard.”
Scott picked up the handlebars. “I wonder if I’m supposed to connect these first.”
“I’m sure it’s in the directions.”
“Don’t be silly, Annie,” Mark said, walking into the room. “The directions are nothing more than the manufacturer’s suggestion on how to assemble something.” He looked at Scott. “How’s he doing?”
“Not so good. He already had to take the chain assembly apart.”
Scott swore softly when he banged his knuckles on the sharp edge of a bolt. Mark shook his head. “He’s never going to finish that by Christmas morning.”
“Yes, he is,” Annie assured him. “He once put together an entire go-cart for his nephew in one night. It took until four in the morning, but he finished it.” She paused to study the strained lines of Mark’s face. “How’s Maggie doing?”
He shrugged. “Okay. She’s in the kitchen with Ryan. They’re making gingerbread men.”
“How are you doing?” Annie asked.
Mark let out a shuddering sigh. “Hanging in there. She scared me to death this morning. I wish to hell I knew what Max was thinking.”
“Me too, but that’s not what I meant.”
Mark met her gaze. “You mean this being the day I died. Don’t you?”
Annie nodded. “Yes.”
“I’m glad Maggie’s not hurting too much. She’s staying too busy to dwell on things.”
Annie hesitated. She remembered Maggie’s conversation in the Bronco with Scott the day she’d told him about seeing the remains of Mark’s body. Mark had been with Ryan that day, and he hadn’t heard it Somehow, she’d known that Mark had no idea Maggie had seen his remains. “Mark,” she said, cautious.
He was watching Scott struggle with the bike. “Yeah?”
“There’s something I have to tell you.”
He looked at her. “What?”
“I think I figured out why we’re still here.”
Mark’s eyebrows rose. “I thought you already figured that out. We’re supposed to help Scott and Maggie get together.”
She shook her head. “That’s just part of it.”
“What do you mean?”
Annie took a deep breath. “Remember when we talked about how you’re disappearing, and I’m not.”
“Sure,” he said. He held up his hands for her inspection.
Annie laced her fingers through his. “The first time we talked about this, you told me you thought Maggie was having trouble letting go of you because she hadn’t been given the chance to say good-bye. Remember?”
“Uh-huh. It was different for you and Scott. He was with you when you died.”
“Maggie did have a chance, Mark.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“The day she drove Scott to the airport—the day Max showed up at Ryan’s school—remember?”
“Yeah.”
“I was in the car with them. Do you know why Scott didn’t leave for Dallas that day?”
“I thought it was because Ryan was missing.”
Annie shook her head. “That happened later. It was because Maggie told him about the last time she’d seen you.”
“The day I left for Saudi.”
“No. That was the last time she’d seen you alive.”
Mark looked confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Mark, Maggie went to the airstrip the day
your remains arrived back in the States.”
“I expected that she would,” he said. “I was with Ryan that day.”
“Did you know that she convinced them to open your casket?”
“What?” He looked appalled.
“It’s true. She demanded to see your body.”
“But—” He paused. “Oh my God. I died in a helicopter crash. I must have been—”
“She said it was really bad. You were almost completely burned. The only way she recognized you was from your wedding band.”
Mark dropped down on the side of the bed. “Oh my God.”
“Maggie said good-bye a long time ago, Mark.”
“They had no business letting her see that.”
“She needed to. She needed to know you were really gone.”
He shook his head. “I had no idea.”
“Mark,” Annie laid her hand on his shoulder, “listen to me.”
“I can’t imagine what that must have been like for her.”
“It was like saying good-bye, Mark. It was awful and terrible and rotten.”
He looked up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’ve been thinking about this ever since. I couldn’t figure out why you were slowly disappearing, and I was still here. I think I know now.”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
“Mark, Scott never needed me here in order to say good-bye. We already did that. We did it the day I died. Maggie never needed you here to say good-bye. She did that the day she looked into your coffin.”
“What are you saying, Annie?”
“It was you, Mark,” she said. “I let go of Scott a long time ago. That day in the hospital when I told him to kiss me good-bye, I let him go. But you, you never let go of Maggie. I’m not here because of Scott. I’m here because of you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Annie wrapped her arms around his waist. “You told me once that Maggie wasn’t going to be able to let you go until she knew she could stand on her own. Didn’t today prove anything to you?”
“I think she blew the account, Annie. I don’t think Max is going to give it to her.”
“It’s not about the account, Mark.”
“Sure it is.”
She shook her head. “Men really are dense, you know that?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Maggie confronted Max Wedgins on behalf of Scott. Even if it meant giving up the account that could make or break her business, she stood up for herself and for him. She did it, Mark. She won.”
“But if she doesn’t get the account, she’ll lose By Design.”
Annie smiled at him. “But she got what she really needed. She was her own person today. She made a decision about the future of her business, about her future, and she stuck by it. She flew, Mark. She really did.”
He stared at Annie for several long seconds. Somehow, he knew she was right. It hadn’t been about the business. It hadn’t been about Maggie getting the bid. It had been about Maggie feeling good enough about herself to do what she’d done that morning. Maggie had chosen to stand up to Max Wedgins. Knowing she was risking the future of her business, and quite possibly her future with Scott, Maggie had done what she thought was right. Mark had known it from the moment she’d walked into Max’s house. He just hadn’t been ready to let go. He wanted to believe that Maggie still needed him.
He thought about Ryan, about what it was going to be like to say good-bye. A picture of Ryan rolling in the snow with Scott popped into his mind. He looked at Scott struggling to put the bike together and thought of all the things he was going to miss by leaving Ryan. He wasn’t sure he could give that up. It would be like dying again, only worse.
But Annie was right. His conscience told him so. Ryan needed security, a real family. Maggie needed to be free of the past. Neither of them could have that unless Mark let go. “Well, then,” he said, his voice sounding raw, “I guess maybe it is time to say goodbye.”
And Annie started to disappear.
Christmas Eve passed in a flurry of activity. Ryan spent the morning with Franklin, while Maggie and Scott completed some last-minute shopping. By late afternoon, Maggie had almost managed to believe everything was going to be all right. She’d enjoyed a strange sense of well-being since her meeting with Max Wedgins the day before.
Somehow, the strain of the bid process had passed, and having Scott with her had helped her get through the more painful memories of Mark. For reasons she couldn’t quite discern, she had decided not to tell Scott about her meeting with Max. It had seemed best to enjoy the simple pleasures of Christmas without worrying about the resort or its affiliated problems.
She’d helped Scott pick out presents for his family, wrapped gifts with him, laughed with him. By the time Lily dropped Ryan off at the house, he was practically climbing the walls he was so wrapped up in Christmas excitement. Scott took him outside to play in the snow, leaving Maggie free to finish stuffing Ryan’s stocking and wrapping the last of his presents.
Alone, in the quiet of her room, she felt a strange sense of Mark’s presence. She looked at his picture on the dresser. “Mark,” she said, “I don’t know if you’re here. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I . . .”
Mark held his breath. Annie slipped from the room. “Go on, Maggie,” he said.
“I want you to know that I never stopped loving you. A part of me will always love you.” She taped a bow on top of a package.
“I know that,” he said.
“It’s time for me to move on now,” she continued. She cut paper for another box. “And wherever you are, I hope you’ll understand that. I’m in love with Scott Bishop. I just hope you approve.”
Mark felt a tremendous weight slip from his shoulders. He sagged back on the bed. “Oh, Maggie. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy.”
“He wants me to marry him,” Maggie said.
“You’d better.”
“I don’t know if I can do that.”
“No, Maggie—”
“But I can’t stop loving him either. At first, I felt like I was being unfaithful to you. He’s a good man, Mark. He’s a really good man.”
“Then why the hell aren’t you going to marry him?”
“I’m just afraid that if I marry him, I’ll lose myself again. Without you, I wasn’t me. I don’t want that to happen all over again. I’d be afraid to do that to Ryan. He needs more stability.”
“He’s got stability. He’s got you.”
“You know, I envy him sometimes. I wish I could see you, talk to you like he does. It helps him.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Mark said. “It helps me. It’s selfish. I’m selfish. I just didn’t want to let go.”
“If I could talk to you, maybe I’d know what to do. Maybe I’d feel like I knew who I am.”
“Maggie, you’re an incredible person. You’ve grown so much. Don’t let fear stop you from getting what you want.”
“I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Don’t push him away, honey. You’ll lose him.”
She tied a ribbon into a neat bow. “But I want you to know that I’ll never forget everything you meant to me.” She trimmed the edges of the ribbon. “And I’ll always be glad for the years we had together, and especially for Ryan.”
“Oh, Maggie.” Mark buried his face in his hands.
Maggie set the package aside. She started to tidy up the leftover bows and ribbons.
“Maggie, listen to me,” Mark said. “Just listen to me. You can’t throw this away. He loves you. In some ways, he loves you more than I did. Scott loves you, the real Maggie. I loved the way you were when you were with me. You’re a different person now, Maggie, a better person. I don’t think I really fell in love with that person until the past few weeks. There’s nothing in the world I want more than for you to be happy.”
Maggie picked up the wrapped packages. She headed for the door.
; “Maggie, wait,” Mark said.
She looked around the room, then switched off the light. Mark scrambled from the bed and went after her. “You’ve got to listen to me.”
Maggie went downstairs and set the packages under the tree. For a moment, she fingered the plug for the lights. Mark held his breath. “Do it, Maggie,” he whispered. “Turn them on. Say good-bye.”
She dropped the plug and left the room.
He groaned. “Damn it.”
Annie walked up behind him. “We’re running out of time, Mark.”
“I know.”
“What do you want to do?”
He took a deep breath. “Ryan,” he said. “He’s the only tangible link I have to Maggie anymore. I think I’ve got to get out of the way.”
“You want to disappear completely? Leave them before we have to?”
“You’re the one who said I had to let go.”
“Do you think you should do it on Christmas eve?”
Mark wiped a hand over his face. “I have this sick feeling that it’s a now-or-never kind of thing. I don’t think I have much of a choice. Maggie’s still unsure about Scott because she’s afraid for Ryan.”
Annie slipped her hand into his. “When do you want to do it?”
“Tonight. I’ll do it while he’s asleep.”
Mark stood by Ryan’s bed and watched him, reposed in sleep. The afternoon and evening had been bittersweet. He’d listened to every word, memorized every motion, every step, knowing they would be the last hours he’d ever spend with his son. Maggie, Scott, and Ryan had gone to church for the Christmas Eve service, and Mark had stood in the aisle, listening to Ryan sing Christmas carols. Ryan had grinned at him.
Through the course of the afternoon, Annie had been fading steadily. She was almost as transparent as he by late evening. Maggie had sent Ryan to bed shortly after they returned from the church, and Mark had spent long hours telling him stories and singing to him. Ryan had seemed to sense that something was wrong. He’d refused to go to sleep, asking for one more story, one more song, until finally, his eyelids had grown heavy and he’d sagged into the pillows.
Mark watched him for a long time. Annie sat quietly in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth in the rocking chair. “It’s time, Mark,” she said softly.
“I know.”