Whatever Love Means

by Leigh Fleming

  “Hey.” Riley placed her hand on her shoulder. “I’ll run over and get your wallet for you. It’s no big deal.”

  “Yes, it is.” Her eyes stung, but damned if she’d give into the tears. “It is a big deal. I’m either losing my mind or have early dementia.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Or I’ve got a disease or—”

  “Slow down. What’s going on?”

  “My life is falling apart. I’m not exaggerating.” She swiped at the dampness on her cheeks. “Well, maybe I am. I’m so stressed, and I don’t understand why. I’m not usually like this. You know me. I can run circles around most people without blinking an eye. But lately, I’ve been so tired.”

  Riley pulled her stool closer until their knees touched, and held Maggie’s hands in her own. “Tell me everything that’s been going on. I know you were stressed the day of the wedding, but that’s understandable.”

  “It started even before that. We recently discovered that I messed up the Brass Rail account in April. I wrote down some deposits in the checkbook, but hadn’t taken the money to the bank or something, which made some of the payroll checks bounce.”

  “That’s strange. You’re the bookkeeping queen.”

  “I know. And I’ve blown my personal budget, my credit card bill is off the charts, and—” She forced a deep breath when her lungs seized up. “I can’t find my watch. You know the really nice one I bought for my thirtieth birthday?” She rubbed her bare wrist. “Everything’s a mess. On top of that, I don’t have my share of Carly’s tuition money.”

  “Have you told Travis?”

  “Yes, damn him.”

  “Uh-oh, was he mad?”

  “No, he was super sweet and said he’d pay the bill. Didn’t even say I could pay him back later.”

  “That’s great.”

  “No, it’s not great.” She couldn’t sit still any longer, having an unexpected burst of energy. She grabbed the straw broom from the corner and frantically swept up petals, leaves, and dirt on the workroom floor. “And you know what else isn’t great? Travis has been the perfect house guest. Never asks for anything. He stays out of my way. Makes his bed every morning. Doesn’t leave anything lying around.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  She flicked the broom so hard a plume of dust flew into the air. “Do you know he had the nerve to fix my breakfast this morning? Hopping around on his good leg between the stove and the refrigerator like a jackrabbit.”

  “That was sweet. What did he make you?”

  “Scrambled eggs, but that’s not the point. He’s supposed to be recuperating, not cooking breakfast. He could’ve fallen or ripped out his stitches. He’s always been stubborn.”

  “He probably wanted to repay you for your hospitality.”

  “That’s the point.” She grabbed the dustpan and swept the pile onto the metal tray. “I haven’t been hospitable. I’ve left it up to Carly to take care of him. Brody takes him to the doctor and out for rides. I haven’t done anything for him. He’s up to something.”

  “What could he be up to other than showing his gratitude?”

  “He won’t even fight with me. That’s how we communicate. The other day, when I was stressing out about my bills and not being able to pay the tuition, he was really nice. Any other time he’d give me grief about spending money I didn’t have, or having champagne taste on a beer budget.”

  “Really? He comments on your spending habits?”

  “Well, no, but it seems like something he would’ve said.”

  “Maggie, listen.” Riley took the broom from her hands and guided her back to the stool. “Slow down.” She placed her hands on Maggie’s shoulders, forcing her to sit. “What can I do to help?”

  Maggie dropped her head back between her shoulders and looked up at the ceiling, closing her eyes against the bright fluorescent lights. It couldn’t be put off any longer. Stars danced across her vision as she turned her gaze back to Riley. “I’m ready to sell the shop to you. It’s time.”

  “What? I know we’ve talked about it, but—”

  “I had always hoped to get back here someday, but Penny needs me at the Brass Rail. We’re not about to sell our dad’s legacy, and you’ve been running Beautiful Blooms like it was your own. It’s time it was yours. Besides, in all honesty, I need the money. Travis and I had a deal that we’d split the cost of Carly’s college expenses.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. Go home and talk to Derek about it, call the bank, and I’ll ask Kate to draw up a contract. We can close the deal as soon as you’re ready.”

  “Captain Kirk,” Travis bellowed through the phone to Dale Kirk, the chief of the Highland Springs Police Department, as he propped his casted leg on an ottoman. Carly was babysitting the twins, and Maggie had walked out a few minutes ago in a daze, still stunned that he’d made her breakfast. He smiled at the memory of the shock on her face when she’d come in the kitchen.

  “Hey, Travis. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “How are things on the Starship Enterprise?”

  “Flying along nicely.” The chief chuckled. “How’ve you been? You had a hell of an accident.”

  “I’m on the mend. Are the guys down at the garage taking good care of you while I’m gone?”

  “Sure thing. Brought my cruiser in for its annual check-up just yesterday.”

  “Good to know. Hey listen, Dale, we go back a long way.”

  “Sure do. You’ve taken good care of our cars and my Jenny over the years. But now with the new medicine, she’s gone legit.”

  “Happy to hear it. Only stayed in business because of her.”

  “But saved back a little for yourself?”

  “Nah, I haven’t smoked weed in years. Just grew it to help some of my friends.” He reached up to draw a long dreadlock through his hand but came up empty. Sometimes he forgot they were gone.

  The chief asked, “What can I do you for?”

  “Well, I was wondering if you could do a little background check for me. Off the books.”

  “Thinking of hiring a new man?”

  “No, it’s personal. I was hoping you could check into Buddy Garrett.”

  “Maggie’s fiancé?”

  “Yeah, Carly’s a little worried about him. That he’s not on the up-and-up.”

  “Carly’s worried? Or you are?”

  “You know me too well. Yeah, I’m worried. Some money has gone missing down at the Brass Rail, and my gut tells me he might know something about it.”

  “Why hasn’t Penny or Maggie called me?”

  “I don’t think either one of them suspects him. Penny questioned the employees, but came up empty—which is a good thing—but I’m not sure she’s considered Buddy.”

  “Let me do a little research, and I’ll get back to you.”

  “Thanks, Dale. I appreciate it.”

  “Want another beer, Jamie?” Maggie filled a frosted pint glass without waiting for his answer. She was working the bar along with Penny, having given one of the other bartenders the night off. It wasn’t often the sisters got a chance to work together, choosing instead to split the management responsibilities. Dad always said you had to keep an eye on the employees, but she hadn’t thought it necessary until the tequila and the money had gone missing. Even though Penny had questioned everyone, Maggie couldn’t help but feel one of the workers was responsible.

  “There you go.” She slid the dripping glass in front of Jamie.

  “You just gave me a refill a minute ago,” Jamie said, chuckling as he pushed the full glass of beer back to her. “I tried to catch you, but you went straight to the tap. Maybe you didn’t hear me.”

  “Sorry, my mind is going in a million directions.” She took the beer, intending to pour it down the drain, but was saved at the last minute.

  “Hey, I’ll take it.” Officer Pete stopped her before she washed the beer down the drain. “No need to waste a good beer.” He str
addled the barstool beside Jamie, leaning his thick arms on the oak bar.

  “On the house,” Maggie said, placing the cold glass on a cardboard coaster.

  “Thank you, Maggie.” Pete tipped the beer to his lips, taking a long pull, and then suddenly slammed the glass on the bar. “Have you all seen this?” He pointed up at the TV mounted above the shelves of liquor. “We just got word before I went off duty.”

  Maggie joined the rest of the folks lined along the bar in turning toward the TV, which showed an artist’s rendering of a man wanted in connection to a recent robbery. The black-and-white sketch showed a hooded man with a bushy moustache and thick eyebrows. No one she’d ever seen before . . . or had she?

  “Apparently, he walked into a Stop and Go down in Charleston and got behind the counter. Held up the two cashiers on duty. They’re not saying how much he got away with, but it could be over a thousand dollars.”

  “Wow, that was brazen,” Jamie said.

  “It wasn’t very busy. No other customers. Just the cashiers,” Pete continued. “Anyway, he’s considered armed and dangerous and was last seen heading north on I-79.”

  “Heading in our direction?” Jamie asked.

  “Could’ve made it to Highland Springs by now,” Pete said. “Anyway, folks need to be vigilant. The police department put out a bulletin on social media. We posted the surveillance photos along with the artist’s sketch.”

  While Officer Pete’s announcement pulled Jamie and the others along the bar into a tight circle to speculate and analyze the situation, Maggie took the time to wash a few glasses. She sank her hands into the warm, sudsy water, half listening to their conversation. Hearing about the robbery made her mind wander back to the missing money. Something about it nagged at her, but what?

  “According to a cashier, the guy wasn’t tall, between five-four and five-seven. A little pudgy through the middle,” Pete reported to the group.

  Buddy was five-five with a slight potbelly.

  “He walked with a limp according to the other.”

  Buddy had broken his ankle a few years ago, and it sometimes bothered him.

  “He had long, dark, shaggy hair and a moustache.”

  Buddy was balding, so it wasn’t him.

  She quietly laughed and shook her head at the crazy notions running through her mind. He wasn’t even in Charleston, but somewhere in Ohio. She dried her hands on a towel, chastising herself for even considering Buddy was the culprit. Why in the world had she compared the description of the thief to Buddy?

  “But all the witnesses questioned said he was wearing a wig and the moustache was fake.” Pete threw back another gulp of his beer. “Could be anybody.”

  Tossing the towel beside the sink, Maggie grabbed her cell phone from beneath the counter and called over her shoulder, “Penny, I’ll be right back.” She rushed into the office, slamming the door behind her.

  What was the matter with her? How could she possibly think Buddy had anything to do with the robbery? Just because he was short and pudgy, didn’t mean he was a thief. That loose description could apply to a quarter of the men in the bar right now. Buddy had worked with her both nights that the deposit was off, but that didn’t mean he had stolen the money. She had to take another look at that sketch to clear her suspicious thoughts.

  She dropped into the desk chair and opened the laptop, signing into Facebook, and clicking on the Highland Springs Police Department page. Just as Pete had described, the artist’s pencil rendering of the thief showed a white man with shoulder-length hair and a bushy moustache. His eyes and nose weren’t distinctive, and neither were his lips. This drawing could be anyone. Clicking on the link, she found the grainy photos captured by the convenience store’s surveillance cameras. She zoomed in tight to get a closer look, but the culprit’s face was indiscernible. He wore a WVU sweatshirt and baggy sweatpants. Buddy wasn’t a sports fan and in all the time she’d known him, she’d never seen him in sweats.

  Slapping the laptop closed, she rocked back in the chair with a sigh of relief. She should be ashamed of herself even considering Buddy could rob a store. What was the matter with her? Was stress messing with her good common sense? She’d never met a more honest, trustworthy, stand-up guy. So what if he had money troubles sometimes. He always paid her back. She had to accept the fact that she’d made a mistake with the deposits on two separate nights. She’d been distracted or anxious to get home or tense, and that was the reason there was a discrepancy with the deposits. No one—especially Buddy—had stolen money from the bar.

  Chapter 17

  “What are you still doing up?” Maggie closed the front door behind her and hurried to the sofa. “Is everything okay? Is Carly home?”

  “Yeah, everything’s all right. I’m just watching a movie.” And waiting up for you.

  “Where is she?”

  “In her room. Asleep, I figure.”

  “Oh, okay.” Dark circles shadowed beneath Maggie’s eyes. She was exhausted. How did she work such long, late hours?

  “Sit down, take a load off.”

  “Is your leg okay?”

  His casted leg was propped on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

  “Yeah, the doc said to keep it elevated. Come on. Sit down.”

  “I think I’ll just go to bed.”

  “Watch the movie with me.”

  “I better not. I’m—” Maggie glanced at the TV, and her face lit up. “The Notebook?” She tossed her purse on the coffee table and fell down beside Travis. “I love this movie.”

  “You sure do.”

  She nudged him with her elbow. “And you do, too. Admit it. Don’t most guys like this movie?”

  “Remember when you first saw it?”

  “Um . . .” She kicked her shoes off and curled her legs behind her.“We saw it when we were home for Christmas.”

  “Right. My mom watched Carly so we could have a date night.”

  “You bawled like a baby.”

  “No, I didn’t. Not like a baby.” She nudged him again, this time with a playful grin. “But you did.”

  “You’re crazy.” Her feet hit the floor, and she twisted around, grabbing hold of his arm and giving it a shake. “Travis Kane. Don’t you even. You cried. I caught you wiping your eyes with your T-shirt.”

  “It was popcorn dust.”

  They burst out laughing, sharing one of the last perfect nights they’d had together before their marriage imploded.

  “Popcorn.” Maggie let out another chuckle and stood up. “If we’re going to watch this movie, we need popcorn.”

  “Want me to make it?”

  “No, keep your leg up. Want a beer?” She circled the table and headed toward the kitchen.

  “Sure.”

  “Better get the tissues. I’m sure you’ll need them.” She winked as she disappeared through the door.

  This was setting up to be an even better idea than he had thought. Originally, he’d planned to wait up and tell her she needn’t worry about the tuition money. But when she came in, so obviously exhausted, he knew now was not the time. Lucky for him that The Notebook was on TV. It immediately put her in a good mood—something she seemed to need. Tonight he would focus on taking Maggie’s mind off her troubles and save money talk for another time.

  A few minutes later, she swaggered in with a big bowl of popcorn and two beers, settling beside him on the couch. They weren’t touching but sat closer than they had in years. Even after working hours behind the bar, she smelled good. Her soft, floral fragrance tickled his senses. Her eyes were locked on the screen as she robotically lowered her hand to the popcorn bowl then placed a few kernels in her mouth.

  “Aren’t you going to have any?” She set the bowl between them.

  “Sure.” He reached for a handful, and after swallowing, washed away the saltiness with a swig of beer.

  Instead of watching the movie, he watched her. Her eyes expressed every emotion, narrowing and brightening as the story unfolded. T
hose eyes were the first things he’d noticed about her when they met. When she had set those big, luminescent emeralds on him in the football stadium, he’d totally forgotten he was drenched in Coke. Her gaze had pulled him in so fast. Maggie was more beautiful today than she’d been at sixteen—even with the tiny creases around those beautiful eyes.

  “Why aren’t you watching the movie?” She said with her focus still locked on the screen.

  “I’m watching.”

  “No, you’re not.” She grabbed the remote and paused the movie. “You’re watching me.”

  “Just glanced over.”

  “No . . .” She set the bowl of popcorn on the table. “You were watching me. And something was going through your mind. What was it?”

  “Do you really want to know?”

  “Yes, Travis.” She sighed. “I really want to know.”

  He shifted around so that he was nearly facing her while keeping his cast propped on the coffee table. “I was thinking you’re prettier than you ever were.”

  “What? I—” She folded her arms around her middle and sat up straight, her cheeks warming to a rosy glow.

  “Really.”

  “Oh my God. You’re full of it.”

  He had embarrassed her. His compliment had thrown her off. She wouldn’t look at him. Instead she gathered the popcorn bowl in her lap and hit the remote control.

  The characters were splashing in the water. “If you’re a bird, I’m a bird,” Ryan Gosling said.

  Travis chuckled. “I never understood that line.”

  “He’s just saying that he’ll be whatever she wants him to be. Anything for them to be together.”

  “That’s not realistic.”

  “It doesn’t have to be. It’s love. It’s how he feels. He wants her so desperately.”

  “But he can’t change who he is. Either she wants him or she doesn’t.”

  Maggie once again hit the pause button and turned to face him. “She wants him, Travis, but it’s complicated.”