Low Tide

by Dawn Lee McKenna

  “You’re doomed,” Maggie said, smiling. “Scrabble isn’t a game around here; it’s serious business.”

  “You have time to play a game, Wyatt?” Gray asked.

  “Sure.”

  “How about you, Squirt?”

  Sky made a face at her grandfather, then grinned. “School just got out. Who wants to spend two hours in English class?”

  “Can we play Minecraft in the den?” Kyle piped up.

  “Go on,” Gray answered. “After you help your Grandma clear the table.”

  The kids got up and started stacking plates.

  “Just remember that you were warned, Wyatt,” Maggie said.

  “Ah, I’m not scared. I know lots of words.”

  Georgia got up and started clearing the table. “Well, I play for kicks, but Maggie and Gray, they play for keeps.”

  “Yeah, but Dad’s game has really slipped since he lost his lucky lung,” Maggie said.

  Gray grinned as he got up from his chair.

  “Maggie chooses to play a psychological game to try to gain some advantage,” he said. “It makes her feel more formidable.”

  “Well, this should be fun,” Wyatt said as he stood up.

  While Wyatt and Gray finished their beers on the deck and cleaned the grill, Maggie helped her mother rinse the dishes and load them into the dishwasher.

  Georgia looked out the window at the men on the deck.

  “I’m glad you brought him with you tonight, honey,” she said.

  “Me, too. I think he gets lonely,” Maggie answered.

  “So do you.”

  Maggie focused on scraping salad scraps into the trash. “I have the kids. And you guys.”

  “It’s not the same,” her mother said.

  “It is what it is,” Maggie said with a shrug.

  They worked without speaking for a moment, the running water and the rattle of dishes and utensils all that broke the silence.

  “We miss David, too,” Georgia finally said.

  Maggie swallowed hard and nodded.

  Georgia looked back out to the deck, where Wyatt and Gray were laughing about something.

  “But he’s a good man,” Georgia said. “And I think he cares about you.”

  Maggie glanced out the window, too.

  “I’m not sure. I mean, we’re friends, and we do have this flirtation thing going on, but I don’t know how to read other men. There’s always just been David.”

  “Well, I read him just fine,” Georgia said. “He cares. And I approve.”

  Maggie leaned a hip against the counter and fiddled with the dishcloth in her hand.

  “I don’t know, Mom. Somehow, it still feels like it would be cheating. David still loves me. And I still love him, deeply, but I can never be in love with him again.”

  Georgia reached over and tucked a strand of Maggie’s hair behind her ear. “I know. Y’all were peas in a pod since you were ten years old. That’s never really going to go away.”

  “All I ever wanted was to have what you and Daddy have,” Maggie said. “I thought we had that.”

  “Listen, honey. Your daddy and I have been blessed, but we’ve had our problems, too. Especially in the beginning. We almost didn’t even get married.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Just typical stuff, but that’s a story for another time,” Georgia said, waving her off. “But we got a second chance, and I think you have a second chance, too. Y’all should go have a cocktail or something after the game.”

  “We can’t exactly do that, Mom. He’s my boss, remember?”

  “Well, then just go somewhere private. With the kids spending the night, it’s a perfect opportunity to be alone, just the two of you.”

  “For what?”

  “To just spend some time. I’m not telling you to sleep with him, Maggie,” Georgia said, laughing.

  “Oh, Mom!” Maggie threw the towel over her face. “Go away.”

  The Scrabble game was close, intense and taken very seriously, as per usual. Maggie lost by more than a hundred points, which both men remarked upon with some glee. Maggie blamed her poor performance on the fact that Wyatt stared at her frequently. When she’d catch him at it, he didn’t bother giving her one of his goofy grins. It made her extremely nervous. She wondered why she had no trouble tackling a wife-beater or taking a punch, but having Wyatt stare at her made her feel like a six-year old girl.

  For his part, Wyatt gained considerable respect from Gray by losing to the older man by just a few points. He blamed shrapnel in his knee, but couldn’t be too specific about where he got it.

  While Wyatt said his goodnights to her parents, Maggie went into the den to say goodbye to the kids.

  Kyle was deeply involved in Minecraft, but Sky had apparently abandoned the game. She was lying on the couch, texting her friends, with her legs slung across her little brother’s lap.

  “I’m leaving, you guys,” Maggie said.

  Both of the kids looked up from their respective screens.

  “Did you lose again?” Kyle asked.

  “Yeah,” Maggie answered, then kissed the top of his head. “Be good for Grandma and Granddad, okay?”

  “I will. Did you pack Stitch?” Kyle was growing up, but he still slept with his favorite stuffed animal.

  “I did. I love you, you know.”

  “I love you more,” Kyle answered.

  “Oh, here we go,” Sky said.

  “I love you ten times that,” Maggie said.

  “I love you infinity times everything you say after this,” Kyle said. “Is Wyatt leaving, too?”

  “Yeah,” Maggie said.

  “Oh, really?” Sky said, grinning.

  “Hush.” Maggie leaned over and kissed her daughter’s forehead.

  “I like him,” Kyle said.

  “Good. He’s a nice guy.”

  “And?” Sky asked.

  “And nothing. He’s a great guy.”

  “You know, Mom, it’s okay to be happy,” Sky answered.

  “I am happy, nitwit.”

  “You know what I mean. If you and Dad aren’t going to be together, then it’s okay to move on.”

  “Well, I’m not…we’re not dating or anything.”

  “Well, you should be. He’s freakin’ hot for an old guy.”

  Maggie laughed and ran a hand through her daughter’s hair. “He’s forty-eight.”

  “Yeah, like I said. But, dude. Hot, right?”

  “Yeah, kinda,” Maggie said, trying not to smile much.

  “Do you still love Daddy?” Kyle asked quietly, and, at that moment, he’d never looked more like David. Maggie swallowed and nodded.

  “I’ll always love your Dad,” she said.

  “But different?”

  “Yeah, but different, buddy.”

  Kyle nodded and his expression made him seem much older than he was. “Yeah.”

  Gray followed Wyatt out to the front steps.

  “Thanks again, Gray,” Wyatt said. “This was nice.”

  “Any time, son. We enjoyed having you,” Gray said.

  They both looked out toward Hwy 98, as a couple of cars passed by, their headlights sweeping the porch.

  “You know, no matter how old your daughter gets, or how likable her companions, you still have the same instincts.”

  Wyatt nodded.

  “So, I’m obligated to say that I see how you look at Maggie and I know how things are,” Gray continued.

  “Well, we haven’t exactly gone on a date or anything, sir. That’s a little complicated, what with the jobs.”

  Gray nodded. “I guess that would be true. But I see how she looks at you, too, and I don’t doubt that you’ll find a way around those complications. I think you’re a good man, Wyatt, and I’d like to see her happy again.”

  Wyatt nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll just say this. You might be the Sheriff and you might have fifty pounds on me, but I will knock your ass out if you’re careless with
my girl.”

  “Duly noted, sir,” Wyatt said, smiling. “And I like you all the more for it.”

  “Good enough,” Gray said and shook Wyatt’s hand as Maggie came out the front door.

  “What are y’all doing?” she asked as she came alongside her dad.

  “Guy stuff,” her father said.

  “What kind of guy stuff?”

  “The kind that’s not girl stuff,” Wyatt said. “C’mon, let’s let your Dad recover from kicking my butt at Scrabble.”

  Maggie gave her Dad a suspicious look as Wyatt headed for the driveway where their cars were parked.

  “Just fishing stories,” Gray said as he hugged Maggie. “Goodnight, Sunshine.”

  “Night, Daddy, thank you,” Maggie said, then headed after Wyatt.

  Gray went inside and turned off the porch light. Wyatt was leaning against the hood of his pickup, playing with his keys. Maggie didn’t know whether to go over there or not, or what she’d do when she got there, so she walked to her car and put her hands on her own hood. They just looked at each other for a minute and Maggie found herself missing Wyatt’s usual jocularity.

  “That was nice. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Maggie said finally.

  “I did. A lot.”

  He kept staring at her, without smiling, and Maggie spoke just to break the silence.

  “My Mom told me I should ask you out for a drink or something,” she said, then tried to laugh.

  “I’d go.”

  Maggie shrugged. “But it wouldn’t look good, us out drinking together.”

  “No.”

  Maggie looked at the keys in her hand for a minute.

  “But…do you want to come sit on my deck, have a glass of wine or something?”

  Wyatt finally smiled. “Yep.”

  Wyatt had never been to Maggie’s home, even when she’d still been married. He followed her there and was immediately set upon by Stoopid, who never slept and felt obliged to flap and posture at every visitor.

  Once the rooster had been called off, Coco stepped in to appraise the situation. Maggie was impressed that Coco seemed to like Wyatt almost immediately, and the dog stayed right behind him as he wandered around.

  While Maggie dug out an old bottle of Muscadine wine and a couple of glasses in the kitchen, Wyatt looked at the family pictures on the wall and the old life preserver, culling iron, and oar that had been her grandfather’s.

  “This is really nice,” Wyatt called from the living room.

  “Thanks,” Maggie answered. “My Grandpa built this house.”

  “Secluded.”

  “Yes.”

  “A security system would be nice,” he mentioned.

  Maggie walked into the living room. Wyatt was bent over, inspecting her deadbolt.

  “I have Coco,” she said.

  Wyatt stood up and walked over to Maggie, Coco on his trail.

  “I like Coco. But a security system would be nice.”

  “I’ve also got my .45, my grandfather’s .38 is on top of the fridge, and there’s a Mossberg 500 on the shelf in the closet.”

  Wyatt took the glass of wine she held out. “No tripwires?”

  “Stoopid’s my tripwire. You want to go out on the deck?”

  “Sure.”

  Maggie led the way through the sliding door in the living room and they sat down on the back deck. It was a half moon, and the moonlight made the river sparkle. Coco sat down next to Maggie and smiled over at Wyatt.

  They sipped their wine without speaking for a moment; the frogs and crickets carried the conversation. Maggie became uncomfortable with the silence fairly quickly. She was used to easy repartee with Wyatt.

  “I’m a little worried that Grace hasn’t called,” she said.

  Wyatt looked at his watch. “It’s only nine. Maybe she still will.”

  Maggie nodded. They looked at each other for a minute, until she had to look down at her wine.

  “Let’s not talk about work,” Wyatt said.

  “Okay.” Maggie smiled self-consciously. “What should we talk about?”

  “Well, why don’t we get a few things out on the table before your nerves are shot.”

  “My nerves are fine,” she said weakly.

  “No, they’re not,” he answered. “You look like you’re gonna throw yourself off the deck.”

  Maggie smiled. “I’m sorry, I’m just not used to this. It feels foreign, you being here.”

  “Do you want me to go?”

  “No.”

  “But you’re not sure what we’re doing.”

  “No.”

  Wyatt nodded. “Let me see if I can help you out a little.” He leaned his elbows on his knees. “I know we joke around about me and other women, but most of it’s just kidding around.”

  “You’re a single guy. You’re supposed to date.”

  “It’s nice to have somebody to see a movie with or go out for dinner, but that’s all it is,” Wyatt said. “I’ll be honest. I was kind of a dog before I met Lily, but I haven’t been with a woman since.”

  Maggie nodded, unsure what she should say.

  “I don’t like dating. I liked being married,” Wyatt said. “I liked everything about it.”

  “She must have been something,” Maggie offered.

  “She was. For fifteen years, I was a very happy guy.”

  Coco suddenly ran to the railing and peered out at the dark woods. Wyatt and Maggie both stood up to look. On a scrub pine ten feet away, a possum stared at them, his eyes glowing red. Wyatt leaned back against the rail and Maggie picked her wine up from the table and took a healthy swallow.

  “Here’s the thing. I’m old enough and smart enough that when I find someone I can be that happy with again, I’m just gonna marry her. I don’t want to piss around for a few years. I like having someone know what I’m thinking just by looking at me. I like knowing the smell of her hair by heart. I like the routines and the predictability and the comfortable silences. And I like sleeping with the same woman every night.”

  Maggie was taken aback, by both Wyatt’s directness and the reminders of what she’d had with David. The juxtaposition made it hard for her to know what to say.

  “I like that,” she said anyway.

  “Good.” Wyatt set his glass down on the rail and folded his arms across his chest. “I know we’re just kind of dancing around this whole idea of following up on this attraction—I assume it’s actually mutual?”

  Maggie nodded.

  “So, we’re pondering that and we haven’t as yet actually done anything about it, but now you know what I would hope to get out of it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Of course, you’ve got that on the one hand and, on the other, there’s the fact of our jobs and that it’s against department policy for us to be involved, and I’m kind of hoping for early retirement in two years.”

  Maggie wanted to say something relevant and intelligent, but they’d gone from harmless flirtation to the ramifications of a serious relationship in the course of a day, and she was scrambling to find some footing.

  “You should consider, too, while you’re weighing things, that I’m quite an impressive kisser.”

  She was relieved to see his familiar, dimpled smile and she laughed.

  “Is that so?” she asked.

  “Possibly without peer.”

  Maggie felt better and worse simultaneously. The lighthearted remark relaxed her, but the thought of kissing Wyatt put all kinds of knots in her.

  They looked at each other a moment and their smiles faded.

  “Are you considering that? Because I’m thinking about coming over there,” Wyatt said.

  “Okay,” Maggie answered stupidly.

  Wyatt stepped away from the railing and set his glass down on the table. Just then, Coco tore across the deck and around to the front, and they heard her tags and toenails as she ran down the stairs. A moment later, a vehicle pulled into the gravel out front.

  The fact that
Coco didn’t bark was a clue, but Maggie didn’t need one. She knew the sound of David’s Toyota truck.

  She put down her wine and followed Wyatt around to the front. They stood near the top of the stairs as David got out of the truck. Wyatt turned to Maggie.

  “And now we’re filming a Lifetime movie,” he said.

  David knelt down and rubbed Coco, who was falling apart at his feet, then stood and smiled up at Maggie and Wyatt.

  “Hey guys,” he said. “I’m sorry, is this a bad time?”

  “No, I was just about to head home,” Wyatt said, and started down the stairs. He stopped and turned back to Maggie. “We’ll talk later about that evidence, Maggie. I think you’ll find it convincing.”

  “Okay,” Maggie managed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Wyatt continued down the stairs. “If you hear from her, call me.”

  “I will.” Maggie followed Wyatt down to the driveway, where he stuck a hand out to David.

  “How are ya, David?”

  “Good, Wyatt. You?”

  “Hanging in there,” Wyatt said as they shook.

  “Well, keep safe.”

  “You, too.” Wyatt raised a hand over his head to Maggie and walked to his truck. He opened his door and glanced back at her, then got in and drove away, leaving Maggie and David standing in the yard.

  Maggie watched Wyatt pull onto the dirt drive, then looked at the man who used to be her husband. He looked good, and so familiar. His glossy, black hair was just below the collar of the flannel shirt he wore open over a tee shirt. He would look much younger without the closely-trimmed beard. He was much shorter and slighter than Wyatt, only five-ten and athletically slim.

  Maggie looked at him as he stood there with his hands in his jeans pockets, and her son’s big, pretty eyes looked back at her.

  “I’m sorry, babe,” he said. “Sky and I were texting today and she said they were spending the night with your folks. I figured you were alone.”

  “It was just work,” Maggie said.

  He half-smiled at her and shook his head just once. “No, it wasn’t. But you have the right, Maggie.”

  Maggie sighed. “Well, we were just talking.”

  “I’m sorry I barged in. Mostly sorry.”

  He took his hands out of his pockets and walked up, put his arms around her.

  “How are you?” he asked as she hugged him back.