Not the man, she reminded herself. The relationship and the baby.
Andrew, the sensitive ER doctor, left her because she was having trouble coping with her loss. She really and truly had not known he was that inflexible, that cold. There must be a lesson in there somewhere. And she was damn sure going to find it.
She splashed cold water on her face, dried it, went back into the store. And of course who was standing beside Sully wearing a look of concern but Cal.
“Well, Calistoga, you’re just everywhere, aren’t you?”
“You okay, Maggie?” he asked.
“I got a little pissed, that’s all. Ex-boyfriend.”
“Gotcha,” Cal said. He looked at his watch. “Why don’t you go home and see what you can find for dinner for you and Sully. I’ll hang out here till closing.”
She sniffed. “Would you like to join us?” she asked.
“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten.”
“It’s early,” she said.
“It’s okay, Maggie,” he said. “Take a break. Get some alone time.”
“Sunday night can get a little... Ah, hell. I’m going,” she said.
No legacy is so rich as honesty.
—William Shakespeare
Chapter 5
When Maggie had gone, Cal looked at Sully. “I bet she doesn’t get like that very often,” he said.
“Like what?” Sully said. But he was frowning.
“Teary. Splotchy. Shook up. What did he do to her?”
“I have no idea, but I bet I wouldn’t like it.”
“How long was he the boyfriend?”
“Couple a years. I didn’t think he was that much of a boyfriend.”
“Did you ever mention that to Maggie?”
Sully laughed, but not with humor. “Maggie look like the kind of person anyone tells what to do? She’s contrary sometimes. I try to stay out of her business. She doesn’t return the favor, either.”
There was a lot of cleaning up, putting away, sweeping and organizing to do after the last of the weekend campers pulled out. Those who were leaving had settled up and were on the road by six at the latest. There were five campsites and one cabin still engaged and according to Sully all of them were planning to stay longer.
“Should we restock?” Cal asked.
“Let’s not do it tonight,” Sully said.
“I bet you don’t ordinarily leave the store until it’s ready for morning,” Cal said.
“I don’t ordinarily get tired. In summer and warm weather me and Tom give the place a nice face-lift on Wednesdays, slowest day. When Enid’s in the store I spend more time on the garden and grounds but weekends find me right here, ready for anyone. Nights I patrol a little before I go to bed but hardly get any trouble. A year ago I got laid up with the pneumonia—things got pretty sloppy around here but we were running real low on weirdos or drunks so it was at least quiet. Don’t know why I’d get the pneumonia when the weather finally gets warm, but I never ran high on good luck, except for Maggie. Maggie’s about the luckiest thing a man could get and I wasn’t even trying. Imagine what I could do if I was trying?”
Cal smiled. The pneumonia made him grin. If you didn’t pay close attention to someone like Sully you would think he wasn’t terribly smart. But Cal did pay attention. Sully was sharp as a tack and had that enviable insight into people so few possessed. “Where’s your wife, Sully?” he asked boldly.
“Phoebe? She’s in Golden, married to someone who deserves her.”
“Are you still...you know... Do you miss her sometimes?”
“Miss Phoebe? Oh, Jesus, boy. Hell no, I don’t miss Phoebe! She’s the biggest pain in the ass I ever met. She’s everyone’s pain in the ass. Poor Maggie, that’s all I have to say. She tries to take care of her mother. Phoebe.” He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I must’ve been drunk.”
Call laughed with him. “Well, what do you suppose it was?” Cal asked. “No man gets that drunk. She must have been beautiful. Or sweet. Something.”
“Oh, I could put a dent in the keg back then, but that Phoebe, she was mighty pretty. And funny and sweet but God as my witness, it sure didn’t last long. I shouldn’t’a brought her here—it was a bad match. She found fault with every breath I took. She was difficult. Miserable, unhappy.”
“What do you think was wrong?” he asked.
Sully thought for a moment. “Well, son, it’s mostly my fault, I’m sure of that. I’d been to Vietnam and it didn’t leave me right, if you know what I mean. I had settling to do, in my head and other places and I just hadn’t taken the time. I hadn’t stopped making noise enough to listen to that inside voice. I was listening to the voice in the bottle sometimes. Phoebe would bitch that I was drinking and I’d just drink more. And Phoebe? She’s one of those people who’s always hungry, if you know what I mean.”
Cal frowned. “Hungry?”
He shook his head. “She couldn’t be satisfied. I believe she tried, but she couldn’t. I didn’t understand until she left and took Maggie with her. Then I understood what that felt like. It’s a miserable feeling, wanting something you can’t have.” He put a hand on Cal’s shoulder. “You go on, Cal. It’s a nice evening. Cool but clear. There could be rain ahead so enjoy it now while you can.”
“If you need any help, you know where to find me.”
Cal watched Sully put the closed sign on the door and went to his camper. He had the impression that Sully had just confided more in him than he had in his daughter, whose absence a long time ago had filled him with an aching hunger. He believed Sully might never have told Maggie she was the greatest thing he’d ever done. It wasn’t a facial expression or inflection in his voice. It’s the way we don’t tell the most important people in our lives the most important things. It was how men tended to be.
He made his fire by the lake in a brick fire pit that had been there a long time. He couldn’t be more obvious if he’d made his fire in front of the porch, yet she didn’t come.
I should’ve kissed her, he thought. For the past several nights she’d found him after dark and they’d talked by the fire. Sometimes they had a beer together, sometimes just the dark and conversation. She had no idea what she was revealing. Her admiration for Sully, her concern, her annoyance with all things as though she felt completely out of place. But he hadn’t suspected a broken heart.
I should’ve kissed her before he came back and made her realize she’d felt so lonely.
He loved the anger that made her skin mottle. He was guessing, but he bet anger made her cry as often as sadness. He wished Lynne had had more fight in her. Maybe she had at first but it was soon reduced to helplessness. He loved Maggie’s sturdiness. He laughed as he thought that—what woman wanted to be admired for something like that?
It crossed his mind that a smart man would move on before things got complicated but it was already too late for that. The minute she had confided she was being sued, he’d submitted an application to the Colorado bar for license to practice here. Colorado had reciprocity with Michigan; he wouldn’t have to take the bar in this state to be licensed, but he did have to apply. Which he had done without saying anything to anyone. He gave one reference in Colorado. Sully. They might not even ask him.
A part of him thought it might bring Maggie peace of mind to learn he wasn’t just a homeless bum but a professional legal mind. Yet he hadn’t shared. Not yet. He wasn’t quite ready to tell everything. Some of it was still too private.
He sat by his fire, thinking. He gave her some time to find him. He didn’t feed the fire; he let it burn out. Then he went prowling, looking for her. If he had to, he’d knock on the door and call her out. Their routine had made him happy. He didn’t know if he was finally working through his issues or if it was something about the cros
sing—the spot where the Continental Divide separated the east from the west, where everything felt balanced. It was probably just that he’d been looking for a deeper understanding, for self-discovery, for a couple of years now and he was finally stumbling upon it. Pure accident.
She was sitting on her back porch steps in the dark. No fire. Her view? The garden, which was all dirt so far.
“There you are,” he said. “Hiding.”
“It’s not a good night, Calvin,” she said.
“All right, I get that. I was waiting down by the lake. You shouldn’t do that, you know—bring me a beer at night, cozy up and talk in the dark and then shut down. I won’t know how to act tomorrow.”
“Don’t act,” she advised. “Just try to be normal. Just be a guy. You didn’t see anything, you didn’t hear anything. Just be a regular blissfully ignorant man.”
“I’m not that guy.”
“Famous last words,” she said.
“He hurt you,” Cal said. “I thought you might want to talk about it.”
“Are you some kind of counselor? What’s with all this understanding and sensitivity? Because the men I know are not like you. They don’t care about how a woman feels. They’re scared of women’s feelings. And they won’t admit to having feelings of their own, but boy, do they work at protecting them. Defending them.”
“Well, damn, I’m honored. You think I’m not like the men you know?” He sat on the step beside her. “Were you in love with him?”
She shrugged. “Probably not.”
“You’re pouting a lot for nothing, then.”
“He just hurt my feelings, that’s all. Maybe he was right.”
“I doubt it. If he was right, Sully would like him. He doesn’t like him.”
“He never told me that,” Maggie said.
“Because he’s just a guy,” Cal said with a laugh. He put an arm around her shoulders. “I should’ve kissed you last night or the night before. I should’ve done that before some useless old ex showed up and made you feel like you were missing something.”
She laughed in spite of herself. “You arrogant fool. What makes you think you kiss that good?”
He turned her toward him. He grabbed her so suddenly her arms were flapping like a bird’s wings. He covered her gasp with his lips, tightened his arms around her waist, held her close and moved over her lips with urgency, giving it his very best effort. The fit was perfect and he thought this might be one of his most outstanding kisses. He kept his eyes closed but he knew if he peeked hers would be wide-open. He tilted his mouth over hers to kiss her more deeply, edging his lips apart just enough to run his tongue along the seam of her lips, urging her to open up to him a little bit.
Her arms finally wrapped around him. That was what he was hoping for. Then her lips opened a little bit. She took a small, experimental taste and then with a sigh, he felt her sink into his kiss. He concentrated on just that, making it a wonderful kiss for as long as he could. She was molded to him and it felt just right. When he thought he’d given her a minute of brain-numbing kissing, he slowly pulled his lips away. But he didn’t let go.
Her eyes were closed now, that’s for sure. Her head tilted back, her chin lifted slightly and she let out her breath. Without opening her eyes she said, “Meh. It wasn’t that great.”
“It was fantastic and you know it,” he said. Then he nibbled at her bottom lip a little bit. “If it wasn’t perfect, I’m willing to keep trying.”
“Okay,” she said in a breath, leaning toward him.
Cal was happy to comply, especially if it helped her mood, as it was definitely helping his. It wasn’t typical of him to do much thinking while he was kissing or making love, but in this case he did a little of that. He was reminding himself that this was perfectly normal. Reasonable. He’d been around the crossing for weeks now. He’d gotten a little attached to it. He liked helping with the store, liked the locals who stopped by, the lake was lovely. Then Sully and Maggie came home and the place took on a new dimension. He was busy and starting to feel needed. He’d always liked feeling useful. The surrounding towns were friendly and quirky, there was no more beautiful landscape in the country, and Cal had seen a lot of the country.
And then there was Maggie. Yes, he had gotten to know quite a few doctors but he’d never kissed one before. Never one in khaki shorts and lace-up hiking boots.
He gently pulled away from her lips. “Am I getting any better?” he asked.
“Pretty average, so far,” she said.
“Let’s rest a minute, then I’ll go at it again. Let’s have something to drink. I have some brandy in my camper.”
“Brandy?” she said. “Bllkk. That’s for eggnog.”
“We can break into the store,” he suggested.
She patted her pocket to feel for a key and smiled. “Let’s.”
He wouldn’t let her get too far away from him. He put his arm around her waist and strolled with her from her back porch to the store’s back porch. She unlocked the back door. “Don’t turn on any lights or people will see and come wanting something.”
“Where’s Sully?”
“He’s on his way to bed. He just doesn’t have that much stamina. Truth is, he wasn’t up past nine very often when he was a hundred percent because he gets up so early. Don’t trip over anything,” she said as they entered the store. The only light was from the front porch. They didn’t mind if people gathered there and used the tables after the store was closed but it being a cold early April night in the mountains, folks preferred their campfires and the porch was empty.
She got behind the bar and he sat on a stool in front. “What’s your pleasure?”
“Chivas. Neat.”
She tipped the bottle over two glasses and put it on the bar.
“Now, come around here,” he said. “I don’t want that bar between us. I want us together. Here.”
There was no argument from her. She sat on a bar stool, facing him. She was ready to be kissed some more. He pulled her knees inside his spread legs, bringing her a little closer.
“Has Sully ever talked to you about your mother? About when they separated and divorced?”
“Some. We don’t dwell on that too much. It was a hard time all around. Why?”
“He mentioned one or two things. It’s come to my attention the last few years, sometimes men don’t say things they should to the people that matter to them. In trying to be strong and protective, they neglect to mention important things to the people they love. He said you were by far the luckiest thing he’s ever done with his life.”
She smiled. “I guess I knew he felt that way, but he never said it. I didn’t see my dad for about five years and I was hateful during that time. Once we were seeing each other again I constantly asked him why he let that happen. Why didn’t he fight? He just said he thought of himself as a lousy father, that I’d be better off with Walter.”
“Did he ever mention war issues, like maybe some PTSD?”
“Huh?”
“He said Vietnam had him pretty messed up. Of course you knew he went to Vietnam, right?”
She nodded and sipped her drink. “I didn’t know there were any issues. Why do you think he told you these things?”
“It seemed spontaneous. It was as if you were on his mind, having just had your little reunion with... What’s the boyfriend’s name?”
“Ex. It’s Andrew.”
“I think that’s why he talked about some personal things. He also said your mother is a pain in the ass.”
She laughed at that. “You won’t be surprised to learn I’ve heard that from him before. At least ten thousand times. And it’s pretty accurate. Phoebe is very high-maintenance. But the universe will catch up with her. Walter is older than Phoebe. He was a wealthy neurosurgeon, and he took very goo
d care of my mother and me. He’s in excellent shape, energetic and healthy and on the golf course whenever he can, but he’s seventy, like Sully. Phoebe is only fifty-nine, not a bad age for a woman in good health. She’s always had to be indulged and taken care of and Walter certainly stepped up to the plate. But she could end up the caretaker.”
“Or she could put him in a nursing home and walk away from it all,” Cal said.
“Walter turned out to be a good guy. If you haven’t guessed, Phoebe has been twice a trophy wife, though I’m sure Sully didn’t realize it. To Sully I think she was just a pretty little thing. I’m sure he never thought she’d be a lot of work. I think she loves Walter. And I know Walter loves her.”
“You know, sometimes age has hardly anything to do with it. Phoebe’s health could fail before his. You just never know,” Cal said, taking a drink. “So, now that Sully is so much better, what are you going to do?” he asked her. “It’s been weeks, can you even remember why you came home in the first place?”
“Oh, Cal, not you, too. Lecturing me to go back to the grind?”
“Did I say that? I asked what you’re doing here.”
“There was a pileup,” she said. “Not only was it getting bigger than I was, I ran out of ways to practice. I ran out of ways to cope. And then Andrew...” She looked away.
“What?” he said.
“He said he couldn’t take it anymore—my plethora of problems. He said I was sucking the life out of him. He broke it off, not me. And the funny thing about that is, we didn’t even live in the same town. We texted, talked, emailed, saw each when we could—every couple of days or weeks. I was having too many problems for anyone, but I looked back through the texts and emails—they weren’t all my problems. There were friendly, chatty little things, affectionate comments, questions about him and his ER and his daughter. In fact, there’s more bitching about his alimony and custody issues than what I’d been dealing with. I realized I wasn’t supposed to have any problems. I was supposed to be his mommy and lover and cheerleader. I’d fallen down on the job by getting needy. He wanted me to get professional help so I could get back to work. Not work as a surgeon, work as his support system.” She took a deep breath. “It was my best friend, who is also my doctor, who said, ‘Get out of town for a week or two! Get some rest.’ There was no reason not to. I was grateful for the push.”