The Long Way Home

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The Long Way Home Page 14

by Shann McPherson


  Chapter 18

  The thunderous rumbling of an engine broke through the peaceful sleep Maggie had managed to fall into sometime well after three o’clock. As she opened her gritty eyes, she was met with the hazy glow of morning breaking through the cracks in the curtains. The sound of crunching gravel accompanied the revs of the engine. Then there were voices. Male voices. Multiple.

  Immediately, her eyes flew wide open and she sat bolt upright, flinging off the covers. Dressed in her pajamas, she crawled off the foot of the bed, hurrying to the window. She peeled the curtain aside just enough to see outside and, sure enough, she found two pickup trucks parked right outside her house. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of Jane’s husband, Brad, and his buddy, Travis, climbing out of a rusted old Chevy, followed by Evan jumping down from a shiny black Dodge.

  “What the hell?” she shrieked.

  Panicking, she paced her bedroom, looking down at herself dressed only in sleep shorts and a T-shirt. She cursed under her breath and ran to her dresser to find some jean shorts and a bra. She did all she could to make herself decent enough to face a group of random men first thing in the morning. Hurrying downstairs, she tried to catch her breath.

  The front door was open, and Maggie ran out to find TJ, dressed in his Iron Man pajamas, talking with Evan. Evan’s gaze lifted to look at Maggie, his eyes telling when they met hers. He immediately held his hands up in surrender as he approached, glancing back at Brad before looking at her again.

  “I told him not to, but …” He shrugged.

  Maggie sighed in frustration, taking in the power tools and the equipment being loaded out of the back of the trucks. She shook her head, raking her fingers through her messy hair, at a total loss.

  “Look,” Evan started, taking a step forward. He steadied her with a reassuring once-over. “Just let them have a look at the roof. It’ll make them feel better. And then, I promise, they’ll be out of your hair.”

  Maggie raised a brow dubiously, looking up at him. “Really?”

  “Scout’s honor.” He chuckled, holding up three fingers.

  Twisting her lips to the side, she allowed her shoulders to fall with an exhale. She hated feeling like a charity case, but she also didn’t want to be rude. It was kind of them to help, and it seemed that was the way the people in Jewel Harbor operated: on kindness and handshakes.

  “Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll make coffee.”

  “No need.” Evan shook his head.

  She sighed. “It’s the least I can do for all—” Her mouth snapped shut as another car pulled up. A white SUV. One she’d seen before. Maggie watched Jane and Julie hop out, carrying trays of coffees and paper bags with Jane’s Café logo over them.

  “Well …” Maggie shrugged. “You guys really did think of everything.”

  Evan flashed her a wry grin.

  “I’ll go change into my work clothes,” she said with a resigned sigh, turning and hurrying back inside to brush her teeth and change into her overalls and work boots so she could at least help with whatever they had planned behind her back.

  ***

  It was after four by the time everyone finally left. Well, everyone except Evan.

  Maggie stretched her stiff body, listening to the satisfying cracks as she arched her back. She was sore. More than sore. Exhausted. But as she looked up at the house from where she stood on the embankment, that exhaustion made way for a smile. Her current state of fatigue was well worth it.

  The porch screening was completely gone. In fact, the entire porch was gone. All that was left were the newly constructed steps and the deck frame which Evan was still working on, securing each plank of timber with the utmost precision. He said he wasn’t going anywhere until the porch was done, said he didn’t want Maggie or one of the boys to forget it was missing and walk out in the middle of the night only to fall straight through the frame.

  The house looked good. Different and so much better. Travis had power soaked the cladding and it was now refreshed, glowing bright white. Ryan, a fellow firefighter Brad had corralled to help, had re-painted the window shutters, the blue popping against the refreshed white. Brad had harnessed up and climbed onto the roof. He replaced every cracked shingle, which he guaranteed would stop the leaks until Maggie could afford to get the whole thing replaced. Inside, Jane and Julie had helped Maggie finish painting the rest of the downstairs in the same light gray Maggie had committed to. Everything was slowly starting to come together, piece by piece.

  “Would you like a beer?” Maggie asked, walking back up to the house.

  Travis had gone on a beer run into town earlier to grab a couple cases from the pub. It was the only time Maggie had ever had beer in the house. Tom was a Scotch drinker. She was strictly wine, sometimes hard liquor if the occasion called for it. But today she’d consumed her first beer since high school, and she had to admit, after a hard day’s work, it sure did quench her thirst more than any wine ever could.

  Evan sat back on his haunches, glancing over his shoulder. He had a screw clamped between his lips, his ball cap sat backwards on his head, a smear of dirt lined his cheek. He looked almost as tired as she felt.

  Checking the time on his watch, he considered something a moment, removing the screw from his mouth to ask, “You having one?”

  She nodded.

  “Sure.” He shrugged. “I think we’ve earned it.”

  Smiling, Maggie walked around to the rear of the house to enter via the back deck. Inside was quiet. Jack was up in the attic. He was really starting to turn it into his own retreat now that they knew the leaks had been fixed. TJ was in Maggie’s room, watching a movie on her laptop.

  Opening the refrigerator, Maggie pulled out two bottles of the beer Travis had bought, hurrying back out to find Evan sitting on one of the newly erected porch steps. He rested his elbows on his knees, ducking his head to lift his cap off, ruffling a hand through his hair. She sat next to him, handing him a beer, and he thanked her with a lopsided smile, twisting the top off easily. She watched from the corner of her eye as he tipped his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat with a few hearty swallows. When he came up for a breath he groaned with a combination of relief and satisfaction, a sound Maggie found her body reacting to of its own accord. She quickly averted her gaze, looking down at her own beer.

  “Cheers,” Evan said, holding his bottle out.

  She managed a smile, tapping the neck of her bottle with his. “Cheers.”

  Taking a sip of beer, she looked back at the deck to find all the planks in place, and she smiled.

  “I don’t know if I want to put the screening back up,” she pondered out loud, glancing back to the lake, to the peach-streaked sky illuminated behind the silhouette of mile-high pines. “It’s such a beautiful view.”

  “Bad idea.” Evan shook his head vehemently. “You’ll get eaten alive by mosquitoes come July. Won’t even be able to sit out here and enjoy that there view.”

  “Oh …” She sighed. “I guess that makes sense.”

  “Yeah, but you can get this really great screening now. It’s practically invisible. Can’t even see it’s there until you’re right up close to it.”

  “That sounds way better than the stuff I got from the hardware store!” Maggie cringed at the thought of putting up the ugly green screening only to ruin the aesthetic of the house and the view that had sold this place to her in the first place.

  “If you want, I’m heading down to Manchester this week. I can pick you up some from Home Depot. Maybe stop by and hang it up for you?” He shrugged a shoulder before finishing his beer.

  “Oh, you don’t have to do—” She snapped her mouth shut when he threw her a knowing look, the smirk lingering on his lips. “What?” she asked after a beat, her brows knitted together at the look in his eyes.

  “You really need to work on accepting help.” He looked out over the water as he continued, “It doesn’t make you a charity case. It’s just what friends do.”
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  Maggie cowered a little, hugging her knees as she focused intently on the ground. “Sorry. I guess I’m just not used to it.” She risked a sideways glance to find him watching her curiously. She laughed, shrugging her shoulders in defeat. “I guess I’ve never really had that many friends who would voluntarily come and fix my entire porch on a Sunday.”

  “It’s nothing. I like to keep busy,” Evan said with another casual shrug.

  And it was right at that moment that she witnessed it again. That look in his eye. It was more than sadness; it was pure melancholy and it was gone in less than a second. But she’d seen it. There was something wrong. Something deep down that he tried to hide, and he did it so well. She was sure only she could see it; maybe because she was hiding her own demons, too. She wanted to ask him if he was okay, but she hardly knew the man. So, she stayed silent, choosing instead to scratch at the label on her beer bottle.

  “How long were you and your husband married before he passed away?” Evan asked out of the blue.

  Maggie looked up at him, finding him staring out over the spectacular vista, unperturbed by his own question, seemingly unaware of her surprise.

  She cleared her throat, shifting a little before answering reluctantly, “Sixteen years.” And for some reason she added, “I was pregnant when we got married.”

  “What was he like?”

  “Who? Tom?” She looked at him and he nodded. “Um, he was tall and handsome. And he—”

  Evan interjected with mocking laughter. “I don’t care what he looked like.” He smirked at her. “What was he like?”

  Maggie contemplated his question. She wanted to tell him the truth, but she knew she couldn’t. So, she decided on the answer she had well versed and saved in the back of her mind like a pre-recording. “He was a great father. He and I met in college. I was working at the coffee house between our neighboring campuses and one day he literally ran right into me. Spilled iced latte all down the front of me. He felt so bad, he demanded I allow him to take me out for dinner to apologize. I did. And … that was that.” Maggie smiled at the memory. Despite everything that had happened, their meet cute was still smile-worthy. “He worked a lot. He was always a hard worker. Nights, weekends.” Because he was busy screwing his side piece, she wanted to add but didn’t. “But he always made time for …” She stopped when she noticed the dubious look in Evan’s eyes. It was almost as if he didn’t believe a word she was saying, and it was that correct assumption that took her breath away, her throat suddenly dry.

  They shared a moment, one where Evan stared so deep into her eyes it was like he could see straight through her facade and deep down into the murky depths of her anguished soul. He managed a small smile, void of its usual cocky smugness. “You know you can be honest with me, right?”

  Forcing herself to look away, Maggie guffawed, shaking her head. “What are you talking about? I am being honest. You asked me what my dead husband was like and I’m telling you. He was a good father, a hard worker, and a wonderful husband.” She couldn’t even begin to hide the disdain in her voice as she said those last words. She shrugged, lifting the bottle of beer to her lips and taking a big, unladylike gulp, fully aware of his gaze set intently on her.

  He so obviously wanted to say something but, thankfully, he kept his lips set in a firm line as if to stop himself.

  Maggie softened a little, her false bravado dissolving with every second they stared at one another. She looked down at the bottle in her hand with a heavy sigh. “He was all those things,” she said softly, adding with a whisper, “At least that’s what I thought.”

  Evan said nothing. He just watched her, waiting.

  Maggie’s gaze flitted between his eyes, seeing an earnest sincerity within them. But there was something else. Something real. Something that made her feel completely at ease in his presence, and so, despite the walls she tried so hard to keep up, she continued, “He really was a good father.” She nodded. “The boys idolized him, and he loved TJ and Jack more than anything in the whole world.” At that, she stopped, her brows knitting together with a frown as she contemplated her words.

  Did he though? She found herself wondering this more than she’d have liked. Ultimately, Tom chose his life with his mistress over Maggie, but he also chose that life over his sons, too. He took money from his family, and he spent it on his whore. Maybe—and she hated thinking this when he wasn’t around to defend himself—but maybe Tom wasn’t the world’s best father like she’d been led to believe over the years. Maybe Tom had been a liar and a cheat and a phony all along; she was just too stupid and in love with him to realize it.

  “We fell in love, young. And fast,” Maggie continued, staring down at the overgrown grass. She didn’t know why, but she felt like she had to talk. It was not just Evan’s question. She needed this. She needed to confide in someone. She needed to let it out to someone and, for some reason, she felt like she could trust this man. “But then life happened. Next thing you know, it’s sixteen years later.”

  She saw Evan nod from her periphery, and she swallowed the trepidation that had been lingering at the back of her throat. Taking another pull from her beer, she prepared herself to say the words out loud. She needed to say it out loud, to tell him, to tell anybody. With a deep fortifying breath, she closed her eyes. “My husband was cheating on me when he died.” She took a shaky breath and continued, “I didn’t find out until after he was gone.”

  Evan didn’t say anything for a long moment. Nothing but the sound of a few gulls off in the distance accompanied the tension that had settled between them.

  Maggie glanced nervously at him to see his face seemingly impassive, and she wondered for a moment if she’d even said the words out loud. Perhaps he hadn’t heard her. She went to say something, but he turned to her, his eyes full of understanding, with a hint of the same sadness she’d witnessed glimpses of during their few brief encounters.

  “Your boys don’t know?”

  She shook her head quickly.

  “You’re not gonna tell them?”

  “I don’t want them to know. They don’t deserve that,” Maggie replied.

  “Neither do you,” he said without missing a beat.

  She said nothing, staring down at her hands, at that ring shining on her finger in the muted light of night falling overhead.

  “You don’t,” Evan repeated with a little more conviction, his deep voice steely. “You know that, right?”

  She shrugged with a heavy sigh.

  “Any time you need to talk to someone, you can talk to me.” Evan continued, “I know what it’s like, having to keep secrets.” At the hushed sound of his gruff words, Maggie looked at him, his face set in a hard scowl as he stared straight ahead, teeth raking painfully over his bottom lip as he said with a whisper, “It’ll drive ya crazy.”

  She wanted to ask him what he was talking about. What was he keeping bottled up? What secrets was he hiding that were driving him crazy? Was this the reason behind the jaded sadness that flashed in his eyes? Was it the reason he moved back to Jewel Harbor? But before she could say anything, press him for answers, they were interrupted.

  “Mom?” Jack’s booming voice came from inside the house.

  Jumping, Maggie cleared her throat and turned. “I’m out here, honey.”

  Jack soon appeared in the open front door, looking from his mother to Evan and back again, a small crease of confusion appearing between his brows. “What’s for dinner?”

  “Oh, um …” Suddenly flustered over what she’d just disclosed about her cheating husband with her children right inside and within earshot, Maggie tucked the loose strands of her hair behind her ear, flashing Evan a fleeting glance before getting to her feet. “Um, I was just going to fry up some salmon.”

  Jack nodded, his curious gaze landing on Evan once more.

  Evan looked awkward all of a sudden, and he stood, smoothing a hand down the front of his filthy T-shirt. “I’m just gonna finish securing these pla
nks and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

  Maggie watched as he went back to work, drilling a screw into the timber. “Would you like to stay for dinner?” she asked. “It’s the least I can do to thank you for all your—”

  He waved a hand in the air, refusing her offer. “I sure do appreciate that, but I’ve got some things I need to get done tonight.”

  On a Sunday? Maggie watched him. Probably another hot not-date. She almost rolled her eyes but then she found herself wondering where the jealous voice inside her head had appeared from. Instead, she forced a smile and nodded, picking up his empty beer bottle from the step.

  “Mom?” TJ appeared beside Jack, sticking his head out through the gap between his brother and the doorjamb. “Can I have a Pop-Tart?”

  “No, Teej, it’s almost time for dinner.”

  “Balls to that.”

  Jack laughed out loud at his little brother’s unexpected response. Evan chuckled.

  “TJ!” Maggie chastised, throwing her hands in the air and shaking her head. “Come on, you two. You can help me with dinner.”

  She flashed another furtive glance at Evan, one which he met with a tight-lipped smile, and she carefully stepped over the unsecured planks of timber, ushering her sons inside.

  Feeling a little heavier in the chest, a little knotted in the stomach, Maggie ignored it as best as she could. She wasn’t ready to explore these confusing feelings. Not just yet.

  Chapter 19

  Maggie thought telling her secret would have been like a weight lifting off her shoulders. A release. But it didn’t have such an effect. And ever since she’d confessed the truth to Evan, she’d felt uneasy and anxious. She’d hardly slept a wink and now, running on coffee and not much else, she was on edge, gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles were white as she pulled up to the curb outside Jewel Harbor High.

 

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