"We have to go. She invited us—all of us—two weeks ago and I accepted." Greg seemed to be addressing Maggie rather than Josh.
"Another date!" Josh complained. "You have too many dates!"
"My mommy doesn't go on dates," Kari announced primly before chiming in with Kevin's funereal drone.
"Stop it, Kevin and Kari!" Maggie snapped, and both children instantly quit humming. She inclined her head slightly toward Greg. "Dr. Wilder, you really don't have to take my children and me to lunch. I know you're busy and—"
"We're going to lunch,'' Greg said, his jaw clenched. "All of us."
"Turn on the radio," Josh demanded, and Greg immediately flicked it on. The loud rock music accompanied by the children's laughs and shrieks precluded any attempt at conversation during the short drive and Maggie was glad. It was idiotic to feel jealous of the glamorous Taffy, she scolded herself. The only reason Greg had kissed her that morning was because he'd had a womanless, sexless Friday night. A kiss certainly gave her no claims on him, he owed her nothing. Greg Wilder was totally beyond her reach and always would be. How could she have forgotten such a basic fact, even for a little while? Greg's taste in women ran to sophisticated, moneyed beauties like Francine and Taffy. Maggie May was the
sometime baby-sitter for his kids. It was important to remember their stations in life at all times.
At the restaurant, after they'd gotten their food at the counter, Greg placed the five children in a booth in the back. He suggested that he and Maggie sit at a small table on the opposite side, far from the kids. She insisted on taking a booth adjoining them. When she sat down in it, Greg had no choice but to comply.
"I've known Taffy Smith ton for years, Maggie," he said as he squirted ketchup on his french fries. "She invited us to her place for dinner a month ago."
"Two weeks," she corrected him.
He stared at her, perplexed.
"She invited you and the kids to dinner two weeks ago," she said sweetly. "That's what you said in the car earlier."
"She's an old friend of Alicia's, they used to play bridge together or something." Greg bit viciously into his cheeseburger. "I used to play golf with her husband."
"Her ex-husband." Maggie took a dainty bite of her hamburger. "Greg, you owe me no explanations. You can go out with whomever you please."
"You're damn right!" he growled. "So don't start getting possessive on the basis of one kiss."
It had been a lot more than a kiss, Maggie's heart cried, but her temper quickly overruled such foolish sentiment. "Me? Possessive of you? Don't flatter yourself, Greg Wilder. I don't care what you do or who you do it with." She happened to glance across at the children then, just in time to see Joshua bury a packet of french fries in an oozing mound of ketchup. "That's enough ketchup, Josh," she warned.
"They aren't his french fries, Mommy," Karl piped up. "They're Wendy's and she hates ketchup."
Maggie looked over at Wendy, who was sitting back in the seat looking woebegone, tears sliding down her pale cheeks. "Well, they're Josh's now," Maggie said. She reached across the small divider between the booths and switched the packets of fries,
giving Wendy the plain pack and Josh the over-ketchuped one. Wendy brightened. Joshua scowled.
"Hey, that's not fair!" he said. "Those are Wendy's french fries. I don't like ketchup on mine."
"Too bad. You should have thought of that before you decided to pour it all over Wendy's—who doesn't like ketchup either, as you probably know very well," Maggie said calmly.
"He did it to her hamburger too, Mommy. See?" Kari held up a thoroughly ketchup-laden bun.
"You little tattletale!" Josh doubled his fist and shook it threateningly at Kari. "You're a brat!"
"Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me," Kari recited in a singsong chant.
Maggie deftly switched Wendy and Joshua's hamburgers, giving Josh the offending ketchuped one. "All right, Joshua and Kari, that's enough. 1 don't want to hear another word from either of you. Now eat."
"I can't!" wailed Josh. "I hate ketchup. I won't eat anything with ketchup on it. It'll make me throw up."
"Then don't eat," Maggie said calmly, picking up her own burger and taking a bite.
"I want my hamburger and french fries back!" Josh howled, and made a grab for the hamburger in Wendy's hand. He caught Maggie's eye and abruptly halted in mid-lunge. She continued to stare at him in her most forbidding-mother manner until he settled back in the seat and crossly folded his arms across his chest. Only then did she turn her attention back to her food.
"It isn't fair to take out your anger toward me on the children," Greg said, having observed the scene in silence.
Maggie arched her brows. Evidently he didn't like the sterner side of his sweet Mother Machree image of her. "I'm not angry with you or with the children," she replied coolly. "I simply handled the situation as I thought best."
"And you think it best that my child doesn't eat lunch?" Greg asked in a strained voice. "Josh hates ketchup. He won't eat anything with ketchup on it."
"If he's hungry enough, hell eat." Maggie reached for a french fry.
"That's an incredibly cold-blooded attitude, Maggie," Greg said, bristling.
"And you thought I was such a saint," she said. "Mother Machree has feet of clay after all."
"Daddy, I'm hungry," Josh complained plaintively. "Can I get a new hamburger and fries? Please, Daddy?"
Greg reached into his pocket and pulled out three one-dollar bills. "The child is hungry," he said to Maggie, his voice defensively sharp. "He spent over an hour running in that soccer game. He needs his food, he's a growing boy!"
"He'll be well on his way to growing into a spoiled brat and a bully if you keep giving in to him this way."
Greg's mouth hardened. "My son is not a spoiled brat or a bully," he said indignantly. He handed the money to Joshua with a warm, fatherly smile. "Here you are, Josh. Get some lunch for yourself."
"Thanks, Daddy!" Josh exclaimed. "You're the greatest!"
Greg preened. "You see, he is very appreciative."
"The old soft-soap," Maggie said mockingly. "What's to keep him from dousing Wendy's food with ketchup the next time? Do you intend to keep wasting money on food that no one eats?"
"I can certainly afford the price of one measly hamburger and a pack of fries, Maggie."
"Of course you can, but you're missing the point entirely. Josh is always taking advantage of Wendy. He runs roughshod over her and she never stands up for herself. It was Kari who spoke up for her. Wendy was ready to suffer in silence." Maggie saw Greg set his jaw and knew he didn't like what he was hearing. But she persisted; she couldn't stop now. "What do you think Josh and Wendy learned from this little epi-
sode? You've given Josh tacit approval to do whatever he likes to Wendy. She must feel that—"
"Since you don't have a degree in child psychology, I would appreciate it if you skipped the lecture, Maggie. I think I know my own children and I know how to deal with them."
A thousand and one remarks sprang to mind, each one devastatingly sarcastic, but Maggie said nothing. She was smarting too badly over his crack about her lack of a degree. She was very sensitive about her lack of education. She'd wanted to go to college, but in her family a college education was for boys only. She'd married at nineteen as she was supposed to do, become a mother at twenty. And though she had no degree, she did have practical experience with children, a lot of it. Maybe she had spoken out of turn, but she felt on secure ground when it came to children and discipline. She knew her stuff cold in that area, and she simply couldn't sit silently and watch a mistake in the making.
Josh returned to the booth with his new, ketchupless hamburger and french fries and shot Maggie a triumphant look. She didn't react, although she saw Greg frown. They finished their meal in silence. Even the children were subdued. The ride back to Woodland Courts was an abnormally quiet one until Greg stopped the station wagon in front of the M
ays' duplex.
"Say thank you to Dr. Wilder for the ride and the lunch," Maggie prompted Kevin and Kari. They obeyed, chorusing their thank yous before running to the front stoop.
4 'Bye, Maggie," called Max. "Will you pick me up at school and bring me here on Monday?"
"I don't know, Max," she replied truthfully. "We'll see." Greg said nothing at all and she wondered if her baby-sitting days for the Wilders were over. It wasn't the first time she had disciplined one of the children, but it was the first time Greg had observed it. And he
had made it quite plain that he didn't like the way she had handled the situation.
Max's small face clouded. "It's all your fault, Josh," he accused his brother. "You made Maggie mad and now she doesn't like us anymore."
"That's not true, Max," Maggie said quickly.
"Are you mad at me, Mrs. May?" Josh surprised her by asking.
"No, Josh. But I think you owe your sister an apology."
"I'm sorry, Wendy," he mumbled.
Greg looked as if he'd been poleaxed.
"Will you baby-sit us on Monday after school, Maggie?" asked Wendy in that tiny, little voice of hers.
"That's up to your father, Wendy," Maggie replied.
"Yes," Greg said quickly. He was still reeling from the shock of Joshua's apology to Wendy. When was the last time, if ever, he'd heard that? He turned to Maggie. "Yes, I was just going to ask her, Wendy." Maggie was looking at him, her eyes as cold as green ice. She was going to refuse! he thought. The panic which filled him was way out of proportion to the loss of a baby-sitter. "Please, Maggie?" he added.
She really ought to say no, Maggie thought, and she let Greg read that message in her eyes. But she was terribly fond of the Wilder children and she could certainly use the extra income that caring for them provided. Why disrupt them all simply to get back at Greg? She was neither petty nor vengeful, she told herself loftily. "I'd be happy to keep the kids on Monday," she said. "Ill bring the three of them here after school as usual. Is that all right, Dr. Wilder?"
"Fine," he answered tightly. "I'll pick them up around six-thirty. Don't bother to give them dinner. I'll take them out to eat on our way home."
Maggie nodded briskly and closed the car door. The children called good-bye to her and she waved to
them. Then she turned and walked to her front door where Kevin and Karl awaited her.
"Boy, are they ever in for a night tonight!" Kevin said with a gleeful grin. "The Smith ton twins! They're awful! Kari and I saw them get thrown out of the library for tearing up the books and spitting on the library lady. She said they can never come back. They aren't allowed in the Community Center either."
"They don't go to Woodland School, do they?" Maggie asked. She couldn't recall seeing their names on the school roster. And such a pair would definitely be well known to the office personnel who had to usher young offenders into the principal's office. The Smithton twins sounded like they'd be regulars.
"Nope, they go to some special school for wild maniacs," Kevin told her with relish.
"The Eastern Hills School?" Maggie had heard of the private school in Baltimore for children with severe behavioral problems. Many of its students had been kicked out of the public school system for disciplinary reasons. It was rumored that the Eastern Hills teachers were given combat pay.
"The library lady said they're the worst boys in town," Kari said. "Maybe in the whole world," she added dramatically. "Poor Wendy!"
"Poor Josh," chimed in Kevin. "And poor Max and poor Dr. Wilder."
"Yes." Maggie smiled with pure malice. "Poor, poor Dr. Wilder."
house the day of the funeral. In the end, she'd taken Josh and Wendy too. Greg had given them the option of attending the funeral and they had opted out.
The memory of that day was hazy, yet he remembered parts of it with crystal clarity. One part he clearly remembered was driving to 909 Woodland Courts late that night to pick up his three younger children. The children were fine, Maggie had assured him. They'd spent the day playing. Little Max had napped and all three had eaten well. She thought it was wise of him not to have forced Josh and Wendy to attend the funeral services. She hadn't taken her Kristin to Johnny's funeral either. Greg had been grateful for the supporting words. Alicia's parents and most of her friends had told him that Josh and Wendy ought to have been present. No, Maggie had said, not if they didn't want to go. He had been right and should pay no attention to what other people said.
He had offered to pay her and she'd refused, insisting that her services were those of a friend for a friend, Kevin's mother for Joshua's father. But if he ever needed a baby-sitter for the children in the future, she would be happy to take the job and let him pay her for it, she'd informed him with a soft smile.
The arrangements made for the children's care had been rather chaotic in the following months, and Maggie May had been one of many sitters he'd used. But within the past year he had used her almost exclusively. Paula was developing an active social life and wasn't always available to stay with her younger sister and brothers. And the combination of his demanding profession and his own frenzied social life required many hours of baby-sitting services. It was convenient and easy to call Maggie. She was extremely competent and never refused and he knew she needed the money. The kids liked her and were happy with her; her children were their best friends. She was always smiling and pleasant when she greeted him at the door, always had some humorous
little story or joke that made him smile. He'd found himself looking forward to seeing her at the end of his working day. She always managed to give his spirits a lift.
It had only been within the last few months that he'd realized he had never been inside her home. Each time he arrived to pick up the children, he wondered if this would be the day he would make it inside. It had become sort of a private joke, but on Friday night the joke had abruptly ceased to be funny.
Had it begun that night, this urgency, this need to be with her? When Francine had dropped her facade of sexy compliance to reveal the shrew within, he hadn't been able to help comparing her appalling behavior toward Max with Maggie's kindness and caring. And yesterday morning when he had seen Maggie in her nightgown, looking tousled and sleepy and incredibly appealing, he had instantly imagined her waking in his bed, looking like that. He'd pictured himself reaching for her, taking her . . . And he had seen in her eyes, those beautiful green eyes, that she was aware of him too. She was finally seeing him as a man and not as the Wilder children's daddy. Greg could never remember wanting to touch a woman as badly as he had wanted to touch her on that narrow staircase. She'd managed to wipe all thoughts of Alicia from his mind, something that had never happened before. It was Maggie, only Maggie, who he'd wanted, and nothing could have stopped him from taking her in his arms. Her explosive reaction to his kiss had fired a passion within him that he had thought long dead. For the first time since Alicia's death his emotions as well as his physical urges had been involved. He had wanted to make love to Maggie until they were both exhausted and insensible, and then to make love to her again. But of course that hadn't happened. Reality, in the form of their children, had intervened.
A relationship with Maggie could only be fraught with complications, frustrations, and irritations.
They had seven children between them, an awesome thought! It was best that he overcome this infatuation, or whatever it was, very soon. He could have— and did have—physical relations with women who were just as attractive as Mary Magdalene May. More attractive! And without those pint-sized confusions and interruptions. But here he was, sitting in his car in front of her house like a nervous teenager on a first date, impossibly eager to see her, to touch her, again.
"Mom! It's for you!" Kevin bellowed into the mouthpiece of the phone. Whoever was on the other end of the line would have a nasty case of reverberating eardrums.
Maggie handed eighteen-month-old Nicole Chiarelli to Kristin and took the phone, glancing at the clock on the wall. Kev
in spoke up, as if on cue. "I'm hungry, Mom. When's lunch?"
"You can fix yourself a bologna and cheese sandwich now, if you want," she said to him, then turned her attention to the caller on the phone. "Hello?"
"Maggie? This is Rich Cassidy. From school."
"Of course. How are you, Rich?" Rich Cassidy was the music director at Woodland, in charge of both the elementary and junior high school bands. She'd met him when he had come into the school office and had talked with him several times.
They exchanged the usual, general pleasantries, then Rich said, "I've located a used trumpet, Maggie. I wondered if you were still interested in it for your son? I start giving the fourth-graders lessons on their instruments next month."
Maggie vaguely recalled discussing instruments and Kevin and music lessons with Rich Cassidy one day in the office. Had she actually told him that Kevin wanted to play the trumpet? She grimaced. She was just being polite, if not entirely truthful, during that conversation. Kevin had never mentioned wanting to play an instrument to her.
"The previous owner is willing to sell the trumpet for forty dollars, which anyone familiar with instruments will tell you is an absolute steed. It's in mint condition. And, of course, the music lessons at school are free. Are you interested, Maggie?"
"Just a minute, Rich." She put her hand over the mouthpiece and whispered to Kevin, "Do you want to play the trumpet?"
Kevin amazed her by replying enthusiastically, "Oh, boy, yeah!"
She smiled weakly. "We 11 take the trumpet, Rich." Mentally calculating the cost, she decided they could afford the forty dollars. She had little Nicole today from six to six and that would net over thirty dollars at her fee of three dollars per hour. And tomorrow, Monday, she had the Wilder children for several hours.
"Great!" Rich said. "And, uh, Maggie ... I was wondering if you would like to go to a concert with me this coming Saturday?"
He sounded so unsure of himself, yet so hopeful. Had he tracked down the used trumpet as an excuse to call her in the first place? Maggie wondered. She felt a pang of empathy for the man. One of her brothers had been quite shy and she understood the effort it must have taken to make this call. "This coming Saturday?" she repeated. He'd called nearly a full week in advance. How flattering, she thought warmly.
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