Maggie's Way (Montana Bound Series Book 1)

by Bradley, Linda

  Mom was standing on the porch absorbing the scene.

  “Oh, geez,” I said. “Nothing good can come from this.”

  Mom flung her tote over her shoulder. “What was that all about?” she inquired, following me inside.

  I bent down and let Bone’s off his leash. “This dog has caused quite a ruckus around here. And it hasn’t stopped.”

  “You’ve had quite the summer so far,” Mom said.

  I gave her the evil eye over my shoulder as we went into the living room. I plopped down on my new sofa. Bones started to jump up then I gave him the evil eye, too. He trotted away. I propped my feet up on my grandmother’s table, crossed my ankles, leaned back, crossed my arms, and sulked. I glanced over at my mom who was sitting at the other end of the sofa leering at me. “What?”

  “This is more action than you’ve had in a long while. It’s kind of exciting, don’t you think?”

  “What?” I said, feeling more annoyed than when I was outside bantering with John. Then she grinned. “I’ve seen that twinkle in your eye before.” My speech was slow and deep.

  “This is getting good. You don’t even realize what you’re doing.” Mom threw her head back with a giggle.

  I stared into the fireplace. “You’re making fun of me.”

  “Hardly, darling. You’re scrappy. I love it. It’s about time you stood up for yourself. Jesus, all those years with Beckett, everything seemed so even keel. Life is not about being on an even keel. Sometimes the boat tips over and you surface for air. Sometimes you think the boat is going to tip over and that’s when the wind hits the sails and you have the ride of a lifetime. Sometimes it’s about going against the grain, knowing in your gut it’s the right thing to do. It’s about taking chances.”

  I internalized her speech and sighed.

  “Oh, for Pete’s sake, Marjorie Jean, let it go. Brook is being a pain in the you-know-what and you are calling her out on her bad behavior.”

  Mom had her feet up on the table next to mine.

  “I like what you’ve done with the place,” she said, nodding. “A little sparse, though.”

  “I want to fill it up as I go.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “I don’t want to buy a bunch of stuff just to have it. I want to make new memories. I want this place to be mine,” I explained, waiting for more criticism, sounding like a bossy thirteen-year-old, tired of sharing a bedroom with a little sister.

  “It’s about time. I knew you’d bloom in your own time. It was always so easy for you to go along with Beckett.” Mom removed her knitting needles and yarn from her tote bag. “Sometimes things don’t work out for a reason, you know. You might not see it at the time.”

  “You think I’m a pushover,” I said.

  Mom unwound the purple yarn, put her yellower-than-the-sun reading glasses on, and started to knit. The blue metal needles clanked together as she began humming a random tune. She stopped, turned in my direction, and said, “Not anymore.” Singing to the rhythm of her knitting needles, Mom worked the yarn through her fingers like a pro.

  “Is that for Chloe?” I asked.

  “Yup,” she said, glancing over.

  “She’ll like it.”

  Mom nodded in agreement. “She’s got a lot on her plate right now.

  “Don’t we all,” I mumbled.

  Chapter 29

  I put the leash on Bones and explained to him that we’d leave the house quietly like fugitives on the run. He tilted his head as if to question the lecture. The treats were in the car along with the dog obedience registration form. Guilt riddled my nerves as I scanned the yard for a seven-year-old girl dragging a purple cat around by a string. I rear door to my Equinox and ushered Bones in quickly. He jumped immediately into the front seat and eyed me like, What’s the hurry, lady?

  I backed out slowly, more cautiously than usual, ready to evade Chloe. I lied to her about canceling the registration. I learned from crime shows, everyone eventually gets caught, some nearly get away with it then bam, one little slip-up happens or some long-lost bystander produces a shred of evidence. I’d have to face the consequences when the time came.

  Luck was on my side. There wasn’t a soul in sight as I backed into the street. No one stirred at Chloe’s house. I pictured Brook lying at the beach in her black triangle bikini while Chloe ran wild with other abandon beach urchins.

  The drive through town was quiet, but then again it was that time of the season when the neighbors evacuated for their summer homes in Harbor Springs or Traverse City. It sounded like too much work to me. One home suited me fine. Bones hung his head out the window sniffing the air. His back twitched every so often.

  Petco seemed vacant. Relief came over me. I was nervous about taking Bones in a busy parking lot. I was more nervous about not being able to control my dog in class. I didn’t want to face an instructor who would tell me I was an unfit pet owner. I was afraid Chloe would be waiting for me with crossed arms and a death stare, while Brook pinched her nose shut in a room that smelled like liver treats and hot breath.

  I managed to get Bones into the store. His fast pace tugged at me as he walked ahead. The automatic doors startled him as they jerked open. His nose twitched and he pulled me inside toward the birdcages. The clerk smiled, and I pretended I was in charge, praying to the dog obedience Gods.

  Bones traipsed over to the aisle lined with dog beds. I’d get Bones one for the library and put the old bed on the patio. He sniffed a fluffy rectangular one that was lined with fabric resembling lamb’s wool. Bones stepped on it, whirled in a circle, and plopped down. I knelt beside him. “Apparently, we can agree on something. We’ll get it on the way out,” I said, patting his head. “And some treats and an antler bone. I hear you dogs like that sort of thing.”

  I hadn’t told Bradley that Nana gave me a dog. He always wanted one, but with Beckett and me working full time, I didn’t think it would be fair to have a pet. When school started up again in the fall, leaving Bones would be hard, but I’d have Mom to check on him or find a dog camp. Leaving him alone all day would eat at my conscience. Bones stretched, kissed my nose, and trotted toward the dog’s schoolroom at the back of the store.

  We were the first ones there. I sat in a metal folding chair. Bones bit at the leash. I told him to sit. He didn’t. He rolled on his back and panted, ready to entertain anyone willing to watch. I tugged at the leash. When that didn’t work, I produced a dog treat. Bones sniffed it wildly then gulped it down. He drooled for more then coughed up the morsel I had just given him. “Chewing would be a good idea,” I said as I continued prodding him to sit and relax, unsuccessfully.

  A Golden Retriever trotted in. With its head held high and perfect posture, it walked right past Bones without giving him a second look. The dog’s owner smiled. I secretly accused them of cheating. You weren’t supposed to come to obedience school with more manners than you were expected to leave with. With my eyes glued to the perfect canine, I didn’t see the instructor come in. Bones did. He greeted her with two paws on her left thigh and a sloppy hello. My arm jerked as he jumped up on her.

  “Get down,” I commanded.

  Bones ignored me.

  “Hi there, pup. You must be Bones.” The instructor produced a treat from a small pouch on her belt then fed it to the Golden Retriever sitting nicely beside us. She glanced at me with a roster in her hand. “Got the list of names and breeds right here. This is going to be a small class. We’re waiting for one more dog, a hound named Cleopatra.”

  “Hi, I’m Maggie. And Bones has already introduced himself. Sorry about that,” I said, trying to coax him down on all fours.

  “Down, Bones,” the instructor said in a stern voice, smiling with a gleam in her eye.

  Bones put all four paws down on the floor.

  She bent at the waist. “Sit,” she said in a sweet voice.

  Bones sat.

  She gave Bones the treat.

  Figures, I said to myself
. I needed Chloe. She’d know what to do. She wouldn’t be afraid to own the room. What was my problem? I could stand in front of twenty-seven kids daily and tell them what to do, and how to do it. How could this be any different? Bones was just one relatively stumpy dog with an under bite.

  “What’s your dog’s name?” I asked the woman with the Golden Retriever.

  She smiled. “His name is Wagner.”

  “He’s pretty,” I replied. He was a little too pretty by my standards and a little stuck-up. I watched as Bones followed the instructor around, with her pouch of treats.

  “Cleopatra should be her any moment. My name is Tracy. I’ll be your instructor.”

  Wagner’s owner smiled. “I’m Heather.”

  Heather had feathery, blond Farrah Fawcett hair. I read the obedience flyer. Six sessions of this might kill me. Bones wagged his tail as the third student entered the room yanking at her owner’s leash.

  “I’m Tanner and this is Cleopatra.”

  Tanner was tanner than George Hamilton and a little too good-looking. I wondered if his parents were mannequins.

  Heather sat a bit taller thrusting her boobs out as she said, “I’m Heather.” She reached out and shook Tanner’s hand. Bones sauntered toward them investigating the exchange.

  This was going to be interesting. Bones snorted. I wondered how he’d feel about dropping out. Six sessions was going to be one long haul. Bones finally settled at my feet, and waited. “Good boy,” I said, patting his thick head.

  “Now if you say that with a perky voice and put some zest into it, your dog will respond better,” Tracy instructed.

  She came over, patted Bones on the head, produced a treat from her pouch, then told him to sit, which he was already doing, then began speaking to him in a high-pitched gooey twang. That wasn’t part of my repertoire. Straight-forward was my game, either you did it or didn’t do it. It all seemed black-and-white to me. I knew Bones preferred Chloe’s voice to my cynical tone. Maybe if I had Farrah Fawcett hair men would ogle over me at dog school and the trainer would forgive my weaknesses as a pack leader. Maybe, I didn’t want men to ogle over me at all, I knew I didn’t need Tracy’s approval cause I’d figure it out like I always did. Chloe could run this class without a doubt. This was going to be an excruciating six sessions.

  Silent sarcasm kept the session lively.

  I patted Bones on the head and wondered if he could read my thoughts. He wagged his tail, which I took as a signal for Yes, I can read your thoughts.

  I did my best to be an active listener. I participated to best of my ability, but by the end of class Tanner and Heather had given each other their telephone numbers, scheduled doggie play dates, and traded flirty glances. I was on my own island and it was deserted. I longed for Chloe. I’d spent most the hour thinking about her and how she would interact with Bones appropriately and please Tracy at the same time.

  I picked up the phone and couldn’t believe what I was about to do, but I had to finish obedience school. Members of the Abernathy family did not quit. “Hi, it’s Maggie. Can you meet me in five minutes? Yeah, just ring the bell.” I nodded and disconnected the call questioning my motives all over again.

  I rambled to myself quietly as I paced in the living room. There was plenty of room with only a sofa and my grandmother’s table. I didn’t miss the dusty plants or Beckett’s furniture.

  I inhaled deeply before answering the door.

  Brook was on the porch in her cutoff jeans and baby blue tank top. A herd of fairies cautioned me, but in true fashion I ignored their warnings and everyone knows that when fairies speak, you listen. Evidently, I was possessed. “Hi there, come on in.”

  Brook took off her Ray Bans and hung them on the front of her tank top, which made her even more disgustingly attractive. Her hair was perfectly wavy. She reminded me of a younger Daryl Hannah, but it was hard to read her icy, blue eyes.

  “So, what’s this all about?” she asked.

  Courage percolated in the pit of my belly and I let it fill me up. “I would like to apologize for my behavior.” I breathed deeply. “I am sorry.” Brook inspected my house. She didn’t seem to have any interest in what I was saying. Shit. This was a mistake. She sauntered past me and into my library. What was she doing? I stepped in front of her. I leaned on the edge of my desk trying to hide my photographs.

  “John showed me the photo you snapped of Chloe.” She ran her fingers through her hair and tilted her head as if she were posing.

  “Oh?”

  “So why am I here?” She asked, fiddling with her sunglasses.

  I held her stare. “I want Chloe to go to dog obedience school with Bones. I think it’s unfair that you won’t let her go unless you go, too,” I said, lowering my voice. Maybe if I supplied a treat and spoke to Brook like a baby, she’d respond. Bones did. So did Tanner.

  Nothing.

  I stood quietly, waiting. I felt groomed for another round in the game.

  “I guess you would feel that way, but how do you expect me to react? She’s my daughter, not yours,” Brook said.

  There it was, my foot in the door. “You’re right, she’s your daughter. I should have been more sensitive to your feelings.” Brook’s posture softened. “What can I do to change your mind?” A flash in Brook’s eyes let me know I was on the right track. Make it about her, I told myself. God, how I hoped she didn’t have some unreasonable request.

  “You really snapped all these photos?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.” She picked up the Christmas Cows I had colored earlier that day. I liked the red-and-green spots on their backs. With a black drawing pen I’d inked in a wreath around one of the cow’s heads. I colored the sky a faded midnight blue and added gold stars. I painted a Charlie Brown Christmas tree next to the barn then inked in a string of white lights.

  “Can I get a copy of the picture of Chloe you gave John?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said. “What size?”

  “An eight-by-ten. I don’t have very many pictures of her. An updated photo on my mantle back home in Hollywood would do me good,” Brook explained.

  “Black-and-white?” I asked.

  “Sure. I like black-and-white.”

  Brook wasn’t making me work too hard for her acceptance. Distant distraction crept across her face.

  “There’s more,” she said, examining the bookshelves. “Is this your boy?”

  “Yes, his name is Bradley,” I answered. That was all I gave her. He was mine.

  “I’m not wealthy by any means and I could use some new headshots of myself,” Brook said, staring me in the eye.

  The angle of her cheekbones in the midday sun was defined, rigid, toned. “What are you asking me?” She was going to have to say what she wanted, spell it out or no deal.

  Her eyes clouded over like murky puddles as she spoke. “I’ll let you take Chloe to dog obedience school in exchange for headshots. Chloe doesn’t know it, but I am going back in a week. She’s going to have a hard time with this, but I can’t stay, I have work.” Brook flipped her hair back.

  I doubted she had work. Who doesn’t stay for a child? Her agenda was something I couldn’t grasp, nor wanted to. What was she missing in her life that she had to go to Hollywood to pursue a career when she had a beautiful daughter here? How could she leave John? He was beautiful, too. I sat down at my desk and let her list her demands.

  “I want some indoor shots and some outdoor shots.” Her eyes lit up. “We could go to the beach. I could rock out my bikini. I’ve been working out.”

  I smiled as if I approved of her self-indulgence and asked myself if I could handle it. I also reminded myself that Brook wouldn’t be here forever.

  Chapter 30

  With my back against the wall, I tapped my toe. I checked my watch as if I had a pressing engagement. I did. Her name was Claire Cook and I needed to read her new release. Beads of sweat dotted my forehead. I craved my bathing suit, but that would have to wait until next year. I
was covered appropriately and ready for Brook’s shoot as if I could do her justice. Yesterday, we shot indoors.

  Chloe had helped bring over her mom’s outfits. I pictured a casual, free-spirit sort of look with faded denim, a white T-shirt, an oversized rancher’s belt, and some boots. I guess I had cowboy on the brain after hearing John tell me about his dad’s ranch in Montana. Brook had a different agenda. First, she wore a slinky top and skinny denim. Next, she had a black low-cut sheer shirt, paired with leather pants, and stilettos. Then, she had a large cable-knit sweater that hung off one shoulder with leggings and thigh-high riding boots. I was coordinating a fashion show as well as taking photographs. Later I’d have to sit with her, discuss the photos, and get them printed for her. Five days and ticking, then she was leaving. My thoughts were of Chloe, and I wondered if she knew about her mom’s plans.

  I watched people come and go from the bathhouse. No Brook. Really, how long could it take to put on some triangles? I got tired of waiting and wandered away. My phone buzzed with a text. How’s it going? John

  I stepped into the shade of the frozen Icy stand. “I’ll have a frozen cherry and cola mix, please,” I said to the clerk, digging two dollars out of my pocket.

  “Small, medium, or large?” she asked, adjusting her headband back into place.

  “Medium, please.” I hammered out a reply to John while I waited for my treat. Haven’t even started yet. Waiting for model to primp. Who does this, anyway?

  A new text buzzed in. You asked for it. I have said this before, you’re one hard lady to read. How’s Chloe?

  I took the frozen drink from the clerk and handed her my money. “Thank you,” I said with a smile then sat on the vacant park bench sending out another reply. As usual, I have nobody else to blame but myself. Hey! I thought you were still mad at me for the other day.

  I waited for John’s next response, but when it didn’t come I thought maybe I shouldn’t have reminded him he was upset with me. I liked it better when he wasn’t. I slurped my drink and was glad cola was on the bottom. It was my favorite, the sweet dark taste reminded me of Saturday nights at the pizza house with my girlfriends and football games. I kept one eye on the bathhouse door and one eye on Chloe who was building a sand castle with two boys with curly black hair in navy blue Speedos. I nicknamed them the Mark Spitz boys wondering if they were here on vacation from Europe.