by Nicki Elson
“Ah yes, the oven’s all ready for your world famous sweet potatoes.”
While the two women went about their work, Maggie asked, “So how’s the real estate biz?”
“Always slow this time of year, but I’ve got a client who absolutely insists on being in a house by Christmas, so I’m in the market for a motivated seller.”
“Too many of those these days.”
“That’s sadly true. But I’m seeing fewer and fewer. So, how’s the church biz?”
“Eh, kind of weird lately.”
“Oh yeah, your favorite priest got put to pasture. Carl told me.” Melissa’s eyes moved to the doorway. “Speak of the devil.”
“Carl told you what?” the devil asked, walking into the kitchen.
Maggie quirked an eyebrow. “Were you just standing outside the doorway waiting for your name to come up?”
“Afraid of a little girl talk, are ya?” Melissa teased.
“Girl talk, no. Woman talk—that’s a whole other story.”
“We were talking about Father Tom,” Maggie said. “I was able to visit with him yesterday.”
“So you see, everything’s fine,” her ex-husband assured her.
Maggie shook her head. “No, something doesn’t feel right. He was too quiet, and when he did talk, he was almost panicked, paranoid. But I still say he doesn’t belong there.”
“He’s not exactly a young man, Maggie,” Carl said. “Sounds like he could use a mental break, and you don’t know, he might relish the opportunity to kick back and play chess or whatever it is retired priests do. Why don’t you just let him rest and enjoy it?”
Maggie stayed quiet as Carl walked over to the oven and pulled out the rack to baste the turkey. Nobody else seemed to share her suspicions. Even Brenda, though she was upset, had accepted the circumstances at face value. Perhaps it was time for Maggie to do the same.
She walked to the far end of the counter and uncorked the wine. As she poured three glasses, she watched Carl and Melissa working in unison, crossing paths and exchanging little smiles as they prepared the meal. He’d apparently gotten more in touch with his domestic side since the divorce. It felt strange to Maggie to feel happy for him in his new life, but she did.
Dinner with her children, ex-husband, and his new girlfriend was surprisingly comfortable. At least it was until Melissa asked Kirsten how things were going with Carter—a name Maggie’s daughter had never before uttered to her mother—and Kirsten’s eyes shot wide open in what she’d obviously meant to be a subtle warning glare at Melissa.
“I assume she’s not talking about Jimmy,” Maggie said wryly, staring directly at a flushed Kirsten.
“Who?” Kirsten asked.
“U.S. President. That song you learned in third grade,” Carl said and started singing “The Presidents Song”—a diversion tactic if Maggie’d ever seen one.
“Cut the crap, Carl. Who’s Carter?” Maggie demanded, turning back to Kirsten.
Huffing and looking at her plate while she pushed her fork through her mashed potatoes, Kirsten mumbled, “He’s a boy at school who I think is cute. And he’s nice to me.”
Liam started making fake retching sounds, and Maggie smiled, liking that, after cute, nice was the first quality her daughter appreciated in a boy. “Why didn’t you tell me about him?” she asked.
“I don’t know. You said I’m not allowed to date until sixteen so I guess I just didn’t want you freaking out.”
“Are you dating?” Maggie asked.
“No! He doesn’t even know I like him. God! Can we change the subject?” Kirsten’s pleading eyes vacillated between Carl and Melissa.
“After I say this, sweetie,” Melissa said. “I’m with your mom on waiting to date. Don’t be in a rush; there’ll be plenty of time after you turn sixteen.”
Kirsten sat back in her chair with a dramatic exhale. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, look at the three of you. You’re still dating and you’re so old.”
Carl sucked his lips in over his teeth to look like gums and croaked, “What? What’d she say?”
Everyone laughed except Kirsten, whose eyes risked getting trapped in a permanent roll. But she did at least smile.
“So you’ve got someone?” Melissa asked with an encouraging nod toward Maggie.
“Oh…”
While Maggie fumbled around for what to say, Kirsten sat forward, giving her mother an intense stare. “Yeah, mom, tell everyone about the new guy.”
Maggie flicked a questioning glance at her daughter before answering. “I was seeing a man from church earlier in the fall, but he got back together with an old flame, so our story was cut short.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Melissa said.
“Not as sorry as me,” Liam chimed in. “His son was like awesome, and he was gonna sell me his Alienware PC really cheap as soon as he bought a new one.”
Maggie felt a twinge of guilt. It wasn’t fair to bring people into her children’s lives who could so easily disappear. Suddenly, anonymity was another point in Evan’s favor.
After dinner, everyone helped clean up the table and pack the food away. Then Carl and the kids retired to the family room to watch TV while Maggie stayed in the kitchen to help Melissa do the dishes. As soon as two women were alone, Melissa poured each of them another glass of wine, saying, “Might as well make an event of it.”
Maggie threw a dishtowel over her shoulder, and they dug into their work. Melissa was easy to talk to, even more so as Maggie sipped down yet another glass of Chardonnay, and before she knew it, she was telling her husband’s girlfriend about Sharon. “I’m perfectly willing to apologize and do what I can to redeem myself,” she explained, “but I left a message a week ago, and she hasn’t returned my call. I’m not going to grovel.”
“Mmm, yes, girlfriends are so much more difficult to crack than the guys,” Melissa mused. “With men, all you’ve got to do is make ’em a meat loaf, throw on something sexy, and all’s forgiven.”
Maggie scowled. “I haven’t exactly had a lot of success with that half of the species, either.” She was caught up on her drying duties, and stood next to Melissa, waiting for her to finish washing another bowl.
“Aw, come on, it can’t be that bad.” With two rubber-gloved hands busy in the sink, Melissa playfully bumped her hip into Maggie’s just as Maggie lifted her glass to her lips.
“Oh, yes, it can be!” Maggie laughed, taking a step away and then a gulp.
Melissa narrowed her eyes and looked her boyfriend’s ex up and down. “When’s the last time you got laid?”
Maggie held the wine in her mouth for a moment before letting it burn down her throat. “Too long?” she answered carefully, not knowing what kinds of confessions Carl may have made in the last few days.
Melissa jabbed a sudsy finger at Maggie. “That’s exactly what I thought. At least tell me you have a decent vibrator.”
When Melissa resumed washing, Maggie wandered back to the sink, relieved that the identity of the counterpart to her last “lay” was still secret, but knowing she must seem rather pathetic. Ego plus wine encouraged her next statement. “Please don’t say anything to the kids, but I do kind of, sort of, have a man in my life.”
“Is that what that hesitation was about?” Melissa grinned and gave Maggie a sideways glance.
“What hesitation?”
“At dinner, when I asked if you had a guy. You hesitated.”
“I did? Do you think anyone else noticed?” She looked toward the entrance to the kitchen.
“That’s doubtful. So, tell me about him.”
“Well, he’s wonderful, first of all. Supportive, smart, funny—but not in a life-of-the-party kind of way, more subtle. And he’s very interesting. I swear we could talk forever.”
“Good looking?”
Maggie nodded. “But it’s so much more than that.”
“So what’s the problem? Why haven’t you introduced Kir and Liam to Mr. Wonderful?”
“It’s co
mplicated. He’s not…” Human? “He’s playing hard to get.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, there’s an obvious physical attraction, and at times we’ve gotten quite close, but he throws up a barrier. He doesn’t think we’re a good match, that there’s no future, and so he doesn’t want to lead me on.”
“Not a good match—why? Because you have kids? Doesn’t sound so wonderful to me.”
“No, that’s not why.” Maggie exhaled, kicking herself for making Evan the subject of girl talk. “It’s just really complicated, and I’m sorry, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” Maggie scowled at the pale truth serum lying innocently at the bottom of her wine glass. “I think I’d better switch to coffee.”
Melissa pulled the plug on the drain and peeled off her gloves. “Persistence, my dear. I have faith you’ll bring him around. If not, dump his ass—’cause you really need to get laid.” She winked while she rubbed lotion into her manicured hands and let the subject drop.
The five of them finished off the evening curled up on Carl’s comfy furniture, eating pumpkin pie and watching It’s a Wonderful Life. The kids were staying at Carl’s for the long weekend, so after the movie Maggie kissed them good night, and then Carl followed her into the hall to thank her for coming.
“You were right,” she conceded. “It was fun. Thanks for having me over.”
He smiled and pulled her into an unexpected bear hug. “Kiddo, I think this is the start of a great friendship.”
Maggie laughed. “You just butchered Bogart, but I have to say I agree with you.”
Back at home, all alone and with no sign of Evan, Maggie slid open the deep drawer of her night stand. She reached in and fished around before landing on what she was looking for. “Hello, old friend,” she murmured as she pulled out a long, slender, vibrating toy.
It had been a while since she’d seriously considered using it. On nights the kids were home, concern that they’d hear the low hum in the small townhouse always overshadowed any pleasure she’d hoped to derive. And ever since Evan’s unpredictable appearances, she didn’t dare use it when the house was empty either. Tonight, however, she ran her finger along its length, and thought perhaps letting Evan watch wasn’t such a bad thing. Her lips curled into a wicked smile. If he was determined to stay an arm’s length away, what choice did he give her?
He listened to her heavy breathing and watched her back arch off the bed the moment the device hit its mark. Her sharp gasps delighted him. She was ready, but he’d have to move quickly. He couldn’t deny daughters of God were beautiful, and he’d always found the daughters of man to be ravishing—but something in between was precisely what he was after.
Chapter 19
IF EVAN HAD BEEN WATCHING Thanksgiving night, he gave no indication, and Maggie didn’t press him to find out. He was entitled to his secrets. And she was entitled to tease and entice him—without touching, of course. Just enough to tickle the edges of her desire.
It was the first Saturday in December and three days since Maggie had last seen the angel, but he’d been coming by regularly every few days, so it seemed he wasn’t set to be banished from her world just yet. By Maggie’s estimation, he was due for another visit and with Liam away at a sleepover and Kirsten out at the movie theater, they’d have a couple hours to themselves if he arrived soon. She exchanged her T-shirt for a gauzy printed blouse and threw on a pair of dangling earrings. Ignoring the first candle on the Advent wreath, she went around the kitchen and great room lighting spiced mulberry candles to wash the walls and surfaces in sensual movement. After hitting play on Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite, she had a thought and pulled a box from the cabinet under the TV. When she turned, Evan stood behind her.
“Scrabble?” he questioned, reading the box.
Maggie smiled. “I’m tired of playing figurative games, so I thought, for a change of pace, we should match wits at a real one.”
He tilted his head and pursed his lips, not appearing enthusiastic.
“Unless you’d prefer Ouija,” she teased. “Maybe then we’d finally get some straight answers about exactly what it is you and I are supposed to do with each other.”
“Scrabble will be fine. You’ll have to tell me how to play, though.”
She went to the kitchen table and spread out the board. “It’s a word game. Sort of like building your own crossword puzzle.” His brow furrowed. “Which you’re not familiar with either. Okay, I’ll start with the basics.” She gave him a cursory explanation with a promise to address the finer details as they went along.
They selected their first set of letters, and as Evan laid his squares on the wooden ledge, he asked, “When do you expect the children home?”
“Liam’s gone all night. And Kirsten’s at the movies with Katie—they couldn’t decide which one to see, so they’re going to make it a marathon and see two back-to-back. Here, pull a tile out of the bag—whoever draws the earliest in the alphabet goes first.”
“A for angel,” Evan said, revealing his letter and waggling his eyebrows up and down.
Maggie laughed. “You go first then. One letter of your word has to be laid over this center star, and you’ll get double points on the whole word.”
He studied his tiles, and laid down ORION.
“Ooh, sorry, can’t do that.”
“It’s a word.”
“Yeah, but proper nouns aren’t allowed. Sorry I didn’t explain that before. I suppose since you’re a first timer, I could let you have this one.”
“No. I’ll play by the rules.” He swept his tiles off the board and took a bit longer to come up with NOIR.
Maggie wasn’t entirely sure that word was allowable either, being French rather than English in origin. Normally she’d challenge her opponent, but this time she decided not to draw attention to his potential infraction. It was only worth eight points anyway, and she saw a way to make the most of it.
While she set down her tiles, Evan asked, “If you’re serious about making amends with Sharon, wouldn’t tonight have been the perfect opportunity to meet up with her? Go see a movie of your own or out to dinner?”
She’d laid a W and a Y on either side of Evan’s R to spell WRY, earning double points for each of her letters. “I made my gesture weeks ago, and if she’s not willing to return it, that’s her choice. By the way, that’s seventeen points for me.”
With a troubled expression, Evan intently scanned his letters. His eyes flicked to the board, and then his lips twitched into a smirk. From the N he formed NAKED, with triple points on K. “Twenty points for me.” He grinned.
Maggie narrowed her eyes, and couldn’t prove it, but suspected he was happy about more than just his impressive word score—perhaps he had been watching the other night. She mentally rearranged her row of letters, and after things clicked into place, pulled six from the ledge. Points weren’t her objective this time. She used Evan’s K to retort with STALKER.
“Thirteen.” She winked.
He focused his eyes downward until he’d formed his next word on the board, and when he looked back up it was with a challenging gaze. Using Maggie’s S, he’d responded with SUCCUBUS. Apparently, their figurative games could meld quite easily into their literal ones. “With triple points on this C, that’s another twenty points for me,” Evan announced.
Maggie slid a P, R, and E from her ledge and was about to use them with his top U, but then spotted the open D at the bottom of the puzzle. A quick calculation told her she’d be even with the angel if she chose PURE, but she’d have more fun with the other option. She sacrificed the two points and laid down PRUDE. “Sixteen.” She smiled, figuring she’d have plenty of time to make up for the lost points later.
The phone rang, and Maggie jumped up to answer it.
“Mom?” It was Kirsten, and even from just the one syllable Maggie could tell her daughter was upset.
“Did you get caught sneaking into a theater?” She’d warned the girls to buy tickets to
both movies.
“No. But, Mom, please, could you just come pick me up? I’m not at the theater.”
“Where are you?” Maggie’s tone had hardened.
“Look, just don’t yell at me yet. Please. I really need you to come.” Kirsten’s voice broke, and short, squeaking sobs came through the phone.
“Sweetie, I will. Just…calm down. I’ll be there. Where are you?” Maggie’s heart began to pound. Breaking down like this wasn’t like her daughter.
“Hold on a second,” Kirsten said in a shaky voice. The phone was muffled and then she said, “It’s off of Foxgrove, about three miles south of downtown. Go west on a road called Hutchens. It turns gravelly, and you’ll see the police cars.”
Maggie had to stop herself from shouting. “Police?”
“I haven’t been arrested or anything,” Kirsten explained. “Just please come now.”
“I’m on my way.” Maggie clicked the phone off and grabbed her purse from the counter. “I’ve got to go,” she called to Evan as she went to the closet to snatch her coat before speeding out of the house.
How in the hell did she get all the way out on Hutchens? And why in God’s name are the police involved? She fought off thoughts of possible scenarios the entire way. She’d just have to find out when she got there. The moonlight was blotted out by thick clouds, so she’d expected to be plunged into complete darkness after turning onto the gravel road, which was bordered only by farmers’ fields. Instead, bright punches of throbbing light vibrated in the distance, revealing smoke, blacker than the night and billowing high into the sky. The sharp scent of ash penetrated the car.
As she drew closer to the flashing lights, Maggie saw the police and fire vehicles they were attached to. A black and white was turned sideways across the road and an officer waved for her to stop. “Sorry, ma’am. This road’s been closed.”
“My daughter’s in there. I just got a call.”
“Can I see some ID please?”
She dug her driver’s license out of her wallet and handed it to him.