Jarrett mumbled in his sleep and rolled over onto his side, away from her.
“I can be there in half an hour. Is that soon enough, or do you think you need an ambulance?” Maggie said into the phone.
“Mom, it’s just a baby. A first baby, at that. I think I have the half hour.”
Maggie laughed. Taylor had the same calm logic she had. Taylor never got flustered. “Do you want me to bring your dad?”
It was Taylor’s turn to laugh. “Yeah, right, as if he’s going to be of any help in labor and delivery. No, Mom, let him sleep. Tell him to come to the hospital in the morning. Then leave him a note, because in the morning he won’t remember anyway.”
Maggie grabbed a white T-shirt off the floor. It was Jarrett’s, but she pulled it on anyway. She took the phone from her ear just long enough to pop her head through the neck. “Anything you need?”
She knew Taylor was smiling. She could hear it in her voice.
“Just you, Mom.”
“See you in half an hour.”
“See you. I’ll be packed and ready to go.”
Maggie hung up the phone and padded barefoot to the bathroom to grab a hairbrush. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and was surprised by the tears that welled in her eyes.
The day she had married Jarrett, she had known her life with him and their daughter would be good, but she had never fathomed it would be this good. She had never imagined after all the pain of her younger years that she could be this happy, this content, never imagined her relationship with her daughter would bloom into a cherished friendship in Taylor’s adult years. For the last twelve years, Jarrett and Taylor had been her world. Though they could never replace the son she had lost, they had dulled that pain of loss until it was nothing but an occasional ache. Jarrett’s love had healed her wounds.
And now Taylor was going to have a baby. She and Jarrett were going to be grandparents. And against all odds, there would be another baby for Maggie to love.
A Note from the Author
Dear Reader,
I hope you have enjoyed Maggie’s Baby. Despite a difficult upbringing, poor decisions, and an unspeakable tragedy, Maggie remains positive and does find happiness. I hope her joy is present in your life, each and every day.
Please do me a huge favor and leave a review for Maggie’s Baby on the e-book website where you purchased it. Reviews help other readers find the book and help me be a better writer.
I’m including the prologue and first chapter of Owen’s First Wife, the first book of the “Bachelors Inc” trilogy.
Until next time…
Colleen
Colleen French Biography
Colleen French has been selling and publishing books under various pseudonyms for twenty-five years and sold her first novel at the age of 23. With over 5 million books in print, she's written mysteries, suspense thrillers, historical romances and contemporary romances worldwide, and has been published in languages such as French, German, Bulgarian, Dutch and Mandarin, among others. While she's written in many genres, her roots and her first love will always be in romance. Writing seems to be her genes. She's the daughter of best-selling author Judith E. French and grew up listening to the sound of her mother's typewriter late at night. When not writing, Colleen likes to read a good book on the beach. She can be reached at [email protected] or on Facebook.
Bachelors Inc. Owen’s First Wife
Colleen French
Prologue
August, 1990
Ten-year-old Owen Thomas beat his fist on the door of the garden shed behind Ben Gordon’s house. “Let me in!” he shouted. Pressing his back to the door, he scanned the backyard for signs of infiltrators. “Hurry up!”
Abby Maconnal had tried to talk to him as he passed the post office on his bike, but he’d pedaled right by her like he didn't see her. He was sure she hadn’t followed him. Abby was always trying to talk to him because it was his bad luck to have moved right next door to her three weeks ago.
Owen spotted movement but when he turned around fast, he saw that it was just a water sprinkler spraying a flowerbed. He saw a lawn chair and his bike where he’d left it in the middle of the lawn, but no Abby. He shifted the paper bag he carried to his other hand and pounded on the door. “Open up!”
“Password?” Zack hissed from the other side.
Zack and Ben were his two best friends in the little town of Land’s End, perched on the eastern edge of the Chesapeake Bay. His best friends in the whole world.
“Beans and franks,” Owen said.
The two boys inside the shed sniggered. “Say it right, Owen, or you don’t get in,” Ben warned.
Owen scratched at a mosquito bite on his elbow. “This is stupid.”
“You know the rules. You have to say it if you want to be in the club.”
He could hear the two boys laughing. Owen wanted to get in. Being new in town, he wanted desperately to belong to the new club they were forming. He wanted buddies before he had to go to his new school next month and start fifth grade; he just hated saying this stupid password.
“Say it,” Zack coaxed. “Come on, Owen; then we’ll let you in.”
Owen rolled his eyes. He could smell the fresh-cut lawn; a dog was barking next door. Probably at him. He exhaled. “Beans and farts,” he whispered.
“Gotta say it lou . . . der” Ben teased.
“Beans and farts!” Owen shouted.
Thankfully, the door swung open.
Owen ducked inside, red-faced, embarrassed and excited all at the same time. His mom and dad didn’t let him say fart, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, would it?
“What did you bring?” Zack slammed the door and locked it from the inside.
The boys had bought a hook-and-eye at Smitty's Hardware store yesterday and installed it themselves, getting ready for their new club. The hook was a little lower than the eye so that they had to really tug to get the door closed and locked, but it worked and the boys were proud of their handiwork.
Owen plopped down on the shed floor beside a lawn mower and opened the crumpled paper bag. “Two orange sodas, some root beer barrels and a moon pie.”
Zack flopped on the plywood floor beside him, Ben across from them so that they formed a circle. Sunlight poured in through the small, open window in the back. The shed was hot and smelled of old grass and fertilizer, but no one cared. They were in their private domain now.
“Only two sodas and one moon pie?" Ben asked, pushing his Baltimore Orioles ball cap around so that the brim faced backward. “But there's three of us.”
Owen brushed his sandy blond hair off his forehead. His mom said it was shaggy and needed cutting, but Owen liked it. Secretly, he thought it made him look like Daryl Hall in his favorite band, Hall and Oates.
“We’ll just share,” Owen defended. “I don’t really like moon pies anyway.” He pushed his loot to the center of the circle the boys formed with their open legs. “What did you guys bring?”
“Red licorice.” Ben whipped it out of the back pocket of his cut-off jean shorts.
“Sunflower seeds.” Zack waved a plastic baggie. His mom and dad were the local hippies; Owen's mom said every town had them. The Taylors bought everything in bulk.
“Sunflower seeds?” Owen laughed, turning to Zack. He was wearing a tie-dyed T-shirt and a headband around his head. His hair was even longer than Owen's. “Who eats sunflower seeds?”
“I do and you would if you had any sense.” Zack popped one into his mouth and cracked the shell between his teeth. “You know how many vitamins are in sunflower seeds? You need your protein, man. How else you going to get rid of those scrawny city-boy shoulders?” He gave Owen a push, spitting the empty shell onto the floor.
Owen pushed him back. Nothing rough, just guy stuff. It made Owen feel good to have someone to push. He hadn’t wanted to move from Wilmington, Delaware, to Land’s End, Maryland. He hadn’t wanted to make new friends, but it wasn’t li
ke his parents had given him a choice. He knew he was lucky to have found Zack and Ben.
“Hey! Come on,” Ben said, ever the diplomat. “Are we going to do this or not?”
The three ten-year-olds met each other’s gazes and nodded.
“We’re gonna do it,” Zack said with conviction.
“We’re gonna do it,” Owen repeated with equal fervor.
“Ok, so how do we do it? Blood?” Ben asked.
“Blood?” Zack wrinkled his nose. “Like cutting our wrists and letting our blood run together?”
Owen laughed. “Not your wrist, butthead. You’d die. On TV they just prick fingers.”
All three boys looked at each other again. They all wanted to make the pact, but no one seemed to be enthusiastic about the blood. Owen knew he had to think quick before they gave up on the idea and decided to ride bikes instead.
“OK, OK.” Owen held up his hands. “That’s boring. Been done. I got a better idea.”
“What?”
“Give me the moon pie.”
Ben pushed the cellophane-wrapped chocolate-and-marshmallow cake across the floor.
“And one of the cans of soda.”
Zack passed the soda.
Owen pulled a bandana from his back pocket, the one he wore to keep his hair back when they were jumping ditches with their bikes, and laid it out on the floor between his legs. He then ripped open the moon pie and set it on the red bandana. Both boys watched in anticipation, making him feel important. He pulled the tab on the can of soda and put the drink beside the moon pie.
“We sure about this?” Owen asked, trying to make his voice deep so he would sound official. “Because men don’t enter pacts like this easily. It’s a big responsibility.”
“I’m ready.” Ben made a fist and jerked his arm back in a show of strength.
Zack drew up his legs and folded them Indian-style as if he were meditating. “I’m ready,” he said serenely, resting his forearms on his knees, palms up, thumbs and forefingers touching.
“Then let’s get started.” Owen lowered his head. “We three present do hereby form the GAG Club. By sharing this bread and this wine—”
“It’s a moon pie and soda,” Ben whispered.
Zack elbowed him.
“We do hereby swear our oath,” Owen continued. “We swear not to play with girls, talk to them in school unless we have to, and most important, we swear not to dance with any of them at any fifth grade dances our moms make us go to.”
Owen picked up the moon pie, took a bite, and passed it to Zack. Then he lifted the can of orange Crush to his lips and took a sip of the warm soda. The two tastes didn’t go together, but he didn’t care. It was symbolic. This would make the three boys friends forever, wouldn’t it?
The boys solemnly passed the pie and soda around in a circle until it came back to Owen. He returned the food to the bandana.
“Amen,” he whispered.
“Amen,” the other two repeated.
Owen glanced up at his new friends. He felt good inside, like maybe Land’s End might be an OK town after all. “It’s final then, we are the three official members of the GAG Club.”
“Girls Are Gross,” Zack said with a grin.
A bang on the door of the shed startled all three of them.
“Who is it?” Ben shouted.
All three scrambled to their feet. It couldn’t be Ben’s mom or dad. They were at work. And Ben's older sister, who kept an eye on him, was on the phone in the house in the air conditioning. She was always on the phone.
“It’s Abby,” came a girl’s voice. “Is Owen in there?”
Zack and Ben turned to Owen as if he had just betrayed them to the enemy.
Owen made a face. “I didn’t tell her where we were,” he whispered. “She’s such a pain.”
Abby banged on the door again. “Owen, I know you’re in there. I saw your bike. I’m going to the library. You want to go?” She paused. “It’s got to be a lot cooler at the library than in that dumb shed.”
Owen stared at the door. He didn’t know what to do. He was trapped. Maybe his friends would just kill him and put him out of his misery. Save what little honor he had left. Of course, the only thing they would be able to kill him with in this shed would be a rusty pair of garden shears and he wasn’t sure he wanted to die that badly.
“Get rid of her,” Ben hissed.
“Get rid of her,” Zack echoed.
“How?”
Ben pushed him toward the door. “That’s your problem.”
Before Owen could protest, Ben yanked open the door and Zack pushed him out. The shed door slammed shut before he could turn back. Suddenly he was face-to-face with pretty Abby Maconnal.
She grinned, planting her hands on her hips. She wore her blondish brown hair over her shoulders with a little braid on each side. She had on jean shorts and a sleeveless shirt. Her eyes were bluer than anything Owen had ever seen.
“I... I’m not going to the library with you,” Owen stammered. “Stop following me.”
She shrugged. “Fine. Suit yourself. I just thought you might want to get a book. You know we’re coming to dinner tonight to your house. My parents and me. They’ll send us off after dinner to play. I just thought that if we had books we wouldn’t have to actually say anything to each other.” She flipped one hand. “But, whatever.”
Owen stared at his black Converse sneakers. He didn’t know what to say. Her idea was actually a good one but his friends were listening. And he needed to get rid of her before their teasing became merciless. He started to walk toward his bike to lead her away from the shed so Zack and Ben couldn’t hear what they were saying.
“Maybe later,” he said quietly.
Her bike was beside his in the grass. “Whatever.”
Again, she shrugged a suntanned shoulder. He noticed there were freckles there, like little brown dots. He couldn’t stop looking at them.
“I . . . I’m supposed to get a haircut later. Maybe after that,” he mumbled.
She looked up at him with those blue eyes. “Get your hair cut?! Don’t tell me your mom’s going to make you get your hair cut.” She uprighted her bike and climbed onto the purple banana seat. “It’s so cool. It makes you look just like that guy in Hall and Oates.”
Owen was still grinning when ten-year-old Abby Maconnal rode her bike around the house and disappeared from his sight.
Chapter 1
The Present
“Hey, guys. Sorry I’m late.” Owen slid onto the vinyl booth bench at the Pizza Palace in the little town of Land’s End.
“Hey, bro,” Zack said from behind his laminated menu.
“No problem. We just got here ourselves.” Ben tossed him a menu across the table. “Ordered a pitcher of Dogfish Head.”
“Great.” Owen scanned the menu, but he was too excited to care what he ordered. “Pizza’s fine,” he said, dropping the menu to the Formica table. “Whatever toppings.”
“Careful or Flower Power here will order sunflower seed and tofu pizza for us,” Ben warned with a grin.
“That or ginseng and arugula.”
Owen and Ben laughed
This was what was great about being together again. They could laugh and make foolish, juvenile jokes and not worry about what anyone thought about them. It was the perfect way to deal with life’s blows.
“Very funny. The two of you are a barrel of laughs.” Zack added his menu to the pile. “Actually, I was thinking more on the lines of green peppers, black olives, and mushrooms, but if tofu is what you want—”
“Veggies work for me.” Owen clapped his hands. “So, are we set, gentlemen?”
“Got our business license at the chamber today and picked up the incorporation papers at the attorney’s,” Ben said. “All we have to do is sign and give him a name for the company.”
“A name?” Owen sat back. “We’ve been so busy working on the details that I hadn’t thought about a name. Have you?” He looked up at the tw
o men who had been his closest friends for twenty-five years. The two friends who hadn’t abandoned him, not since the summer between fourth and fifth grade when he’d arrived in town. They’d been there for him through college and grad school, through job changes, his wedding and the divorce that still left him feeling hollow inside. He loved them like brothers.
Owen had returned to Land’s End the previous month to live and to run a business they had dreamed up a year ago. After living life in the fast lane, trying their luck at love, big business and big cities, they had all come to the conclusion that they belonged in Land’s End together. On paper, they had created a business of restoring old homes to their past glory. Owen, an architect, would design additions and improvements to structures without altering their original design. Ben would serve as the general contractor, hiring whatever workmen were needed. Zack, the man of talented hands, would use his extraordinary cabinetmaking skills to recreate fireplace mantels, hand-carved dental molding and kitchen cupboards. They already had two customers and had only to finish the paperwork.
“A name, a name,” Zack said thoughtfully. “Land’s End Restorations doesn’t work? I thought that was what we agreed on. Simple, and to the point.”
“That’s the name of the business,” Ben pointed out. “But our corporation needs a different name. That way, if we create new companies in the future—”
“They’ll still fall under the corporate name,” Owen said.
“Exactly.”
A waitress brought them the pitcher of local beer and three mugs. Ben poured.
“A name that represents the three of us,” Owen thought aloud and grinned. “I know! How about the GAG Club?”
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