by Janet Dailey
Maggie stiffened, resenting his implied criticism. "Why are you here?" Then she remembered. "You said you wanted to speak to me about Mike."
"Yes. I haven't told him yet that I'm getting married again."
Her interrupting laugh was short and bitterly incredulous.
"I hope you aren't planning to ask me to tell him."
"No. I'm telling you first because I want your support. I know it won't be easy for Mike to accept the fact that I'm marrying another woman.
"From some of the things he's said, I know he isn't going to welcome having a stepmother," Wade corrected her in a clipped, precise tone.
"And how am I supposed to change that?" she demanded.
Didn't he realize it was going to be difficult for her to adjust to the fact that he was getting married to someone else?
"By remaining calm. And, for once, not reacting emotionally."
"You've never been able to accept the fact that I'm an emotional person!" Maggie accused.
"I've accepted it. I've just chosen not to live in your tempestuous teapot."
Maggie turned away. That remark had hit below the belt.
She took a large swallow of coffee. "That was unnecessary, Wade," she said tightly.
"Yes," he sighed heavily, "it was. Look, Maggie, we've managed to have a fairly civil relationship since our divorce, and I don't want my marriage to change that. Maybe I'm asking too much, but I'd like you to extend the same distantly friendly terms to Belinda. For Mike's sake, I think it would be best."
"Oh, yes, the four of us can be just one great big happy family."
She mocked his ludicrous suggestion.
"Don't exaggerate," Wade snapped. "I'm not suggesting anything of the kind."
Maggie pivoted around to challenge him. "What are you suggesting?"
"That you provide some moral and physical support for my marriage," he explained with considerable exasperation.
"What do you want me to do? Walk down the aisle with you and give you away?" she quipped, hiding behind a black wit to conceal the pain of this conversation.
"Don't be flippant."
"Well, I'm sorry."
She wasn't. "But I don't know what you expect me to do. I have no intention of interfering with your marriage in any way. As for Mike, I'll encourage him to welcome your bride into the family. I don't see how I can do more than that. And I doubt if your Belinda would like it if I interfered more than that in your personal life."
Wade shook his head and downed the rest of his drink. "One thing is certain —" he set the glass down harden the counter, his control stretching thin "— Belinda is a hell of a lot more open-minded than you are."
"I suppose you've discussed me with her." That thought didn't set well. "As well as all my little shortcomings."
"Naturally I discussed with her my first marriage and our incompatibility, but I didn't go into detail. Belinda is an intelligent and sensible young woman."
"And I don't possess either of those qualities." Maggie stated what she felt he had implied.
The line of his jaw hardened. "I didn't say that."
"No, you didn't have to."
"Once you meet Belinda, I know you'd like her if you would let yourself —" there was undisguised irritation in his voice and the glittering black of his eyes "— and not become jealous."
"Jealous! I would never be jealous of your new bride!" The denial leaped angrily from her throat. "Don't forget I divorced you because I didn't want you anymore."
It was lies, all lies. Maggie knew she still wanted him, and probably had ever since their divorce. Only she hadn't permitted herself to admit it. Subconsciously she had compared every man she met with Wade, and they had all been lacking.
Moreover, if his darling Belinda were in the room at this minute, Maggie would be physically or verbally clawing at the woman like a jealous cat.
It angered her that Wade had been so accurate in guessing that.
"Don't pretend you won't be jealous. It's a normal reaction for anyone whose former mate remarries." Wade swept aside her denial with swift, slicing strokes, the precise cutting thrusts of a rapier striking coldly and ruthlessly. "It's a natural emotion to feel under the circumstances."
"Don't he so damned logical!" Maggie turned and set her cup so violently on the kitchen counter that it overturned.
In agitation she grabbed for the dishcloth and wiped up the spill.
As she started to throw it angrily into the sink, Wade's hand closed around her upper arm to check the display of temper. His grip was firm, yet controlled to imply gentle rebuke.
"One of us has to be," he said. "I was hoping both of us could be logical about this."
Maggie jerked away from his hold, rejecting his impersonal touch.
"How dare you suggest that I haven't been?"
Her eyes were blazing with green fires, the toss of her head making her hair ripple like liquid flame around her shoulders.
"I'm more than aware that you're free and can remarry or not, as it suits you. I've even offered you my congratulations and wished you every happiness with your soon-to-be bride.
"As for Mike, I've even agreed to help him become adjusted to the fact that he'll not only have a mother but a stepmother, as well. What more do you expect from me? Should I throw an engagement party for you?"
There was a flashing glimpse of the thinning line of his mouth before he was turning his back to her, his hands on his hips.
Maggie sensed rather than saw the control he was exercising over his own temper.
He shook his head and emitted a sardonic silent laugh. "I'd forgotten how easily you can rile me. When we weren't making love, we were fighting, weren't we? Did we ever share a peaceful moment together?" The embittered question deflated Maggie's anger. The stiffness of defiance and challenge left her shoulders and spine, and she felt the sagging weight of defeat. Tears stung her eyes, acid and burning.
"Of course we did … in the beginning." But she didn't want to talk about that.
At the moment, the memories of that time were too poignant and too vivid. "When are you planning to marry? You haven't said."
"Soon. Within the month."
Her mouth dropped open.
She had expected his response to be autumn or Christmas, not a date that could be measured in days instead of weeks or months.
The pain of loss splintered through her, followed by a thankfulness that he hadn't seen her reaction to the announcement.
"That isn't much time," she recovered to say. "You're practically presenting Mike with an accomplished fact." But it wasn't Mike she was thinking about, it was herself. "You should have told him sooner, let him know there was someone you were seriously interested in."
"How?" Wade glanced over his shoulder, his mouth twisting in a cynical line. "In a letter? Over the telephone? No, that's too impersonal for something that's so important in his life. I wanted us to be face to face when I told him.
"And I wanted him to meet Belinda, get to know her before the wedding. I couldn't do that from Alaska."
"You shouldn't have waited so long," Maggie persisted in the thought.
"Unfortunately I couldn't get away before now. I considered having Mike visit me, but I knew he would want you around once he learned I was engaged. I did the best could to arrange to spend this time with him before the wedding. As it is, our honeymoon is going to have to be postponed. But Belinda is very understanding about
"She sounds like a paragon of virtue," Maggie muttered sarcastically. She simply couldn't help disliking his bride-to-be.
Wade shot her a piercing look before glancing at the heavy gold watch on his wrist. "Speaking of time, Mike's ball game started ten minutes ago. My car is outside. Do you want to ride with me? There's no point in taking two cars."
"No, thanks, I prefer to drive my own. Besides, it will save you having to make the trip back here after the game," she refused his offer briskly.
Common sense told her that it was better if she d
idn't spend too much time alone in his company. The time would be too bittersweet.
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Chapter Six
A SILVER GRAY MERCEDES was parked in the driveway behind her small car, the luxury model a sharp contrast to Maggie's economy one. She eyed the Mercedes somewhat resentfully.
It seemed to emphasize the chasm that gaped between them. They were poles apart, as they always had been.
"Your company is generous to it executives, furnishing them with a car like that," she remarked dryly as she walked ahead of Wade to the driveway.
"It isn't a company car. It belongs to Belinda," Wade corrected. "Since I was without transportation, she offered me the use of hers."
"What's she driving, then? Her father's Rolls-Royce?"
Maggie sounded catty and she knew it.
It wasn't that she envied the obvious wealth of Belinda's family.
On the contrary, she envied the woman because she would soon have Wade, something all the money in the world couldn't buy.
"She's probably driving her mother's Rolls." His mouth quirked briefly in a mocking smile that didn't make Maggie proud of her remark.
She tried to change the subject. "At which hotel are you staying? In case there's an emergency and I need to reach you," she tacked on so he wouldn't think she was asking for a personal reason.
"I'm staying with the Hales in their home, not a hotel," Wade corrected her with a glint of amusement in his dark eyes.
"Oh."
How foolish of her to have fallen into that! Where else would a prospective son-in-law stay but in the home of his fiancée parents? Maggie tried not to think how much time that gave him to spend in Belinda's company.
Their paths diverged as they walked to their respective cars.
Maggie's was closest, so she reached hers first and had to wait until Wade had reversed out of the driveway into the street. Jealousy was a demeaning emotion, she realized as she followed the silver Mercedes to the ball park.
Mike's team was at bat when they arrived. Wade waited to walk with Maggie to the bleachers, occupied by only a scattering of other parents. The rest of the boys on the bench with Mike were shouting encouragement to their teammate at bat.
Mike watched him but was silent, a faintly disappointed expression on his face. His gaze strayed to the bleachers.
When he saw Maggie, and a second later Wade, he immediately broke into a wide smile and waved. Maggie returned the salute as she sat down on the second row of the bleacher seats.
Excitedly Mike poked his teammates and pointed to his parents in the stands.
With all the emptiness in the bleachers, Maggie wished Wade had sat somewhere else other than beside her. It was natural that he would, though.
After all, they were both there to see Mike play. He was their son. Not even Wade's approaching marriage changed that.
At the end of the inning Mike dashed to the protective mesh fence near where Maggie and Wade sat. The rest of his teammates were taking the field.
"Hi!" His shining dark eyes gazed at the two people he loved most in the world. "You're late."
"My fault," Wade took the blame.
"I had something to discuss with your mother and we lost track of time."
"That's all right."
Mike shrugged away the explanation as unnecessary now that they were here. Glancing over his shoulder at the ball field, he added a hurried, "I gotta go. I'm playing first base." He raced to join his teammates and take his position.
"You do it, too," Maggie murmured. She caught the lift of a black eyebrow in question and explained, "Mike gets upset when I say your father and keeps insisting you have a name. You just said 'your mother.'" Wade paused. "It's easier."
"Yes, I know," she responded quietly.
Their gazes locked for a long span of seconds, each knowing why they wanted to forget the first-name intimacy in referring to the other. It kept the memory of their once shared love at bay, lust for that moment, they remembered it together.
Maggie felt the tugging of her heartstrings. Her heart hadn't forgotten that song of savage ecstasy, not a single note of it. Had Wade?
He turned to watch the game before Maggie could find the answer in his dark eyes.
She chided herself for being so foolish. What did it matter if he did remember? He had found another woman whose love played a sweeter melody, and he was marrying her.
It was best if Maggie's heart forgot the love song.
The ball game was close, but in the end Mike's team lost.
In contrast to the marked jubilation of the winning team, there was noticeable silence among Mike's teammates.
The corners of Mike's mouth were drooping and his shoulders were slumped by the defeat as Maggie and
Wade walked around the wire fence to the team bench.
"It was a good game," Maggie offered in consolation.
"We could have won," Mike grumbled, "if I hadn't struck out every time I was at bat."
Tom Darby approached as the last, defeated words were spoken. He smiled briefly at Maggie before clamping a hand on Mike's shoulder.
The coach was as handsome as Maggie remembered, but he stood in Wade's shadow — as every man would, she suspected.
"You'll have to work harder at batting practice, Mike, so you can change that," he said. "But you did a very good job at first base. If it hadn't been for you there, the other team might have scored higher."
The words of praise bolstered Mike's spirits and he managed a smile. "At least they didn't clobber us, did they, coach?"
"They sure didn't," Tom agreed, smiling down at the baseball-capped boy.
He glanced at Maggie. "Mike played a good game. All the boys did." His gaze strayed to Wade, swift and assessing in its sweep of him, as if measuring the strength of his competition.
Mike caught the look, as Maggie had, and quickly supplied the information.
"This is my dad," he declared with a considerable amount of pride.
In the blink of an eye, Tom's startled gaze darted from Maggie's face to the ringless fingers of her left hand. Then his surprise was hidden by a mask of professionalism as he extended a hand to Wade.
"How do you do, Mr. Rafferty. I'm Tom Darby," he introduced himself.
Maggie stole a sideways glance at Wade as the two men shook hands.
She saw the aloofness in Wade's expression, his dark eyes so cool and withdrawn. Yet behind that chilling veil of indifference they were just as sharp and assessing as Tom's had been.
"It's a rare treat for Mike to have his father attending one of his games," Maggie heard herself saying. "You see, his father works in Alaska and is only here on a short vacation."
She realized she was talking about Wade as if he weren't standing there beside her, but she couldn't seem to stop herself.
Her explanation brought a cloud of confusion to Tom's hazel eyes. Maggie cleared that up with an abrupt, "We're divorced."
There was a moment of awkward silence in which Maggie silently cursed her tactless announcement. Why had she done it so bluntly?
To prove something to Wade? Was it her pride trying to show how eager she was to disassociate herself from him so Wade wouldn't know how his coming marriage hurt?
"Don't mind her," Wade inserted dryly. "She's always said exactly what was on her mind. One of the reasons I married her was because she was so refreshingly honest. After a few years it became one of her irritating traits."
The way he put it sounded like a joke and Tom laughed, but Maggie knew there was more than a measure of truth in it.
She felt the stinging accuracy of his arrow, but forced a smile onto her face as if Wade had said something witty.
"If you have no objections," Tom began, "I thought I'd treat the boys to some ice cream before they go home. Parents are more than welcome to come along."
"Will you?" Mike asked eagerly, wanting to be with his father yet wanting to be with his teammates, and hoping Wade would say yes so the two
pleasures could be combined.
"Of course," Wade agreed, a slow smile spreading across his darkly tanned face.
It only took a second for Maggie to consider her answer.
"Not me," she refused.
She didn't want to spend any more time with Wade, certainly not with the complication of Tom Darby around.
She wanted time to be alone and think, to come to grips with the fact that Wade was getting married. "I have some housework to do." She turned to Wade. "You wilt bring Mike home afterward, won't you?"
At his nod, she glanced at Mike. "Have a good time."
"I will."
He was sorry, but not disappointed that she wasn't coming. Why should he be when he saw her virtually every day and his father so seldom?
"I'll see you, Maggie."
Tom's goodbye sounded like a promise, now that he was assured she was free.
"Yes. Goodbye, Tom."
It was only when she was in her car on the way back to the house that Maggie wondered whether Wade had noticed how easily she had used Tom's name.
She supposed he had. Nothing escaped Wade's notice for long. What had he thought? Especially in view of the fact that Tom hadn't been aware she was divorced until now
Sighing, Maggie shook away such questions. Wade couldn't care less.
His only interest in her was as the mother of his child. Any interest in her private life stopped there. He was getting married; that was still a difficult thing to accept.
There was housework to do.
Also, Maggie hadn't eaten. A cold sandwich and a helping of cottage cheese were singularly unappetizing, but she forced herself to eat them. She washed the dishes and put them away — not that there were many to do, a couple of juice glasses and cereal bowl from this morning, a plate from tonight, and the cup from her instant coffee and Wade's glass.
With the dishes done, she had eliminated all trace of Wade from the kitchen, but she couldn't banish his specter from the rest of the house, especially the bedroom. She found herself glancing out the windows for a glimpse of the silver Mercedes bringing Mike home. The telephone rang and she answered it impatiently.
"Is Wade there?" It was a feminine voice on the other end of the line.