Tangled Hearts

by Tea DeLuca

  Mark reread the paragraph again in the deposition he had his secretary take from a client. It was hopeless. He couldn’t concentrate as his thoughts focused on Mags. Was she fighting cancer? He was certain Melissa wouldn’t reveal anything else, a non-rule breaker when it came to patient confidentiality, but he had to know if this was a recent diagnosis, something she was treated for, and, most importantly, the prognosis. She was young, vibrant, and he couldn’t imagine her dying. He tapped his pen rhythmically on his desk, wondering how to break into her medical history. There were strict laws against revealing medical information, but her parents would know. Her mother had liked him, but he didn’t know how she had perceived the breakup. And he got along great with her dad. He had treated him like a son. He had felt genuinely concerned by the Alzheimer diagnosis. He could drop by and visit them and try to get some information on Mags. After five years, they’d suspect something, question his motives, and he couldn’t be sure of how much they were telling her father.

  Maybe Kelly, her screwy sister, who hated him before the breakup. She probably hadn’t developed any warm and fuzzy feelings for him afterward. Kelly had predicted that no couple could be as happy as they were. That when the end came, it would be a bigger let down than usual. Kelly with her three divorces fashioned herself the guru on love and marriage. No, she definitely wouldn’t help him.

  Perry’s text flashed with his screen picture, a bottle of his favorite beer. Up for a beer tonight, Markie.

  Sure, same place and time.

  Who could help him find out about Mags’ condition? Gayle. She might know. Another one of the misfits, she had been close to Mags and was the only one who didn’t want to destroy her after the breakup. He’d guess she probably still kept in touch with her. He opened his laptop to a new email screen. He felt badly that they had lost contact after he married Stacy, but he wasn’t proud of where he was going, and he worked hard to get his shit together. His fingers lingered a long time over the keys. Gayle was a sophisticated perceptive woman. She’d question his motives, but he didn’t care as long as he didn’t have to listen to Perry. He hadn’t mentioned Gayle in quite a while.

  Hey, stranger, sorry to lose touch. Divorced Stacy, got my degree, and still living in Charleston. What’s going on with one of my favorite people? And when are you coming home again? We’ll have a big bash at one of our favorite bars. You’ll be the guest of honor (means we’ll buy all the drinks). Haven’t seen much of our crowd recently except Perry, of course. He’s doing fine, still a pain in my ass. Door open, he thought, bring up Mags.

  I did run into Mags the other day. She looked great, though a bit thin. How much should he tell her? A little awkward still after five years. I’m guessing she still keeps in touch with you. Is she all right? Rumor has it she’s had some difficult medical problems to deal with. We aren’t exactly on friendly terms, but I still care for her. Synonym for I love her, but Gayle didn’t need to know that. Last update, love my job and am seeing someone, a doctor. Life goes on, I guess. Mark

  He watched his email disappear into space then closed his laptop. He needed to walk, maybe get some lunch. After he stretched his legs and cleared his head, he’d be able to work. His phone chimed again. Looking forward to the movies tomorrow, Fred and Ginger

  He did like Melissa, but he wished once in a while she’d let him make the next move. Maybe a little Gene and Judy. Pick you up at seven.

  Six. We’ll have a drink first.

  He closed his eyes. No effort, no energy, no time or expense. Another synonym, this one for sex.

  Chapter 10

  Mags looked up from her computer screen when she heard Sandy. “Lunch time. You said to remind you, Maggie.” The shop had been busy, and she had just sat down with her reports.

  “Thanks. Can you handle the shop for an hour? I’ll just be across the street.” She adjusted her top, ran a brush through her hair, and dabbed on a bit of lip gloss.

  “Hot date?” Ronnie observed from her doorway.

  “Just meeting someone for coffee.”

  “New guy from all the trappings.” He looked over the chic maxi dress with spaghetti straps and an empire waist. “Just enough skin to peak his interest.”

  She cringed at her bare shoulders. “Too much? Should I wear a jacket?”

  “Hell no. Go wow him, Maggie.”

  Her heart lifted. She was interested in Craig. He sounded real and sweet on the phone. She took a seat at one of the tables in the coffee shop and waited. She had no idea what Mr. Charming looked like, but hopefully he’d find her. The door opened to a tall rugged man with solid square shoulders and snug jeans over his hard thighs. He wandered to the counter but looked a little confused. He had to be Craig. She waved tentatively, and his smile lit up his face.

  “Hi, Craig?”

  “Yes, Maggie?” He took her hand in his callused ones. A man who worked hard for a living. “Had to be you. The prettiest girl in here.” He smiled again as a blush rushed to her cheeks. “Was that cheesy?”

  She grinned easily back at him. “I love cheese. Tell me about you.”

  “Not much to tell. I own an auto garage with five bays just on the outskirts of town. Business is good. I was married for eighteen years, but loss Elizabeth two years ago in a car accident. I have a fifteen-year-old daughter and seventeen-year-old son who is my greatest challenge. Have I scared you off?”

  “Not at all.” He reached for her hand. “Can I ask how old you are?”

  “Forty, six months ago. Why? Is that important?”

  “No,” Mags said quickly. “You look so young, and I was thinking how tragic for your kids to lose their mother.”

  “It was tough on all of us, but both grandmothers were great helping the kids to adjust. What about you? Married?”

  Mark drifted back into her thoughts. “No, never married, and that’s the store I manage.”

  “Can I buy you lunch?”

  As at ease as she felt with Craig, her stomach was not overwhelmed with the sight of food. Maybe it was the meds. “No, thank you, but you could convince me to eat a sugar cookie or two.”

  He rose for the lunch line, and Mags’ eyes followed. He was handsome, not like Mark. No, damn it, not today. Craig was interesting, and she wanted to get to know him better. Maybe her mother had steered her in the right direction this time.

  So absorbed in her cookies and conversation, Mags didn’t see Mark when he entered the shop, but he zeroed in on her quickly and the cowboy she was with. He knew the type, muscles, tanned, a smile to light up the room, and fucking cowboy boots. She used to have better sense. He watched her dive into a big sugar cookie and sip her coffee, always black. She laughed at something the idiot said. Collecting his coffee, he sat at the end of the counter where he could see her, and he was sure she couldn’t see him. She had a healthy glow, shiny hair, pretty sparkling eyes, maybe he was worried for nothing. Or maybe it had something to do with the asshole. In any case, the cowboy rose to leave a few minutes later after a peck on her cheek and a light kiss on her lips. Stupid man didn’t even know how to kiss her. She climbed the stairs to the bookstore and headed down her favorite aisle, romance novels. Apparently, she still read those stupid things. He tossed his cup and eyed the door, but the draw, the pull was too strong, and he too climbed the stairs to the shop. The aisle was empty except for her, cradling a book thoroughly engrossed in the synopsis on the back. He bit his lip and coughed quietly. “I see you still read those things,” he smiled.

  Her eyes met his. “I guess I still believe in love.”

  As he moved deeper into her space, the silence grew awkward. “Just stopped in for coffee on my lunch hour.”

  “Me too,” she whispered, the book pressed against her chest as he moved in front of her. The space quiet, private, devoid of air, she stepped back into the bookshelf. He caught her bare shoulders, her perfume filling his senses, her eyes drawing him in, her vulnerability exposed.

  He pulled her closer. His mouth against her hair.
He inhaled; his voice only loud enough for her to hear. “Mags.” He kissed along her cheek, the velvety softness contrasted against his rough stubble. He brushed her lips softly, and the heat of her breath warmed his skin. One hand slipped around her neck as he aligned her chin and pressed his lips to hers. She gasped, holding her breath. He teased her lips, touching and stroking, pressing her to let him intimately into her mouth. He wanted to pull her closer, but her hands still held the book in a death grip between them. His hip rubbed hers, he stepped between her legs, and her lips parted, the warmth dizzying, the desire so familiar. He pulled back, released the kiss, took a necessary breath, then kissed her again. The book fell from her hands, and her arms circled his neck. He tucked her gorgeous body tighter against him. His hard arousal tented his pants and pressed against her belly. She pulled back, still completely locked around each other, holding the past at bay, but not for long. He stared hard at her with unforgiving eyes. “Why, Mags? Why did you leave me?”

  The pain in her eyes as she pushed him back, struggling to get free of his arms. She picked up her book in a fury and threw it at him. “Me? You left me, Mark Harrington.” She ran down the stairs and out the door before he could process her words. What the hell was she talking about? He hadn’t left her. She called off the damn wedding. Did the cancer burn a few of her brain cells? He had half a mind to storm into her store and correct her. She had walked. She had thrown him and their life away, and she couldn’t have justified it any other way.

  He picked up her book off the floor, still confused, angry, and totally turned on. Then he purchased the book and headed back to his office. Maybe she was just plain nuts.

  Chapter 11

  “Women.” Perry finished his second beer. “You have to love them, or you’d kill them.”

  “Trouble?” Mark asked as he joined his friend at the bar.

  “I told you I met this woman a couple of weeks ago, and things have been going great. She’s pretty, smart, and sexy as all hell.”

  “So, what’s your problem?”

  Perry lowered his voice and leaned closer. “She’s twenty-six and a virgin.”

  Mark fought back a smile. “Is that a problem, big guy?”

  “Not a physical problem, asshole, but you know how women are about their first. I’ll get her into bed, but I’ll never get rid of her afterward.”

  Mark laughed. “Maybe you should steer clear of virgins. Expend your expertise on a more experienced woman.”

  Perry shrugged. “I kind of like her. She’s not pushy or demanding.”

  Mark understood that. “I feel your pain, Per.”

  “How are you and the doctor?”

  “Doing all right, but she’s another pushy female. Wants a threesome with Liddy.”

  “Ouch. She’s looking for a commitment. You haven’t known her long.”

  “I know. I like her, but I don’t want Liddy to become attached to Melissa till I’m sure of how I feel.”

  “And you’re not sure?”

  “No.” He signaled the bartender for two more beers. “Perry, I want to ask you something.”

  “Shoot, bro.” He tapped his bottle against Mark’s.

  “After the wedding didn’t happen, I don’t remember much, at least for a month or two.”

  “You were wasted, drunk most of the time. Why the hell are we dredging this up again?”

  “I don’t remember using my phone at all, taking calls or answering them.”

  “I said you were wasted all the time. I threw your phone in a drawer and only replied to messages from your folks.”

  “Listen, this is important. Did Mags call me afterwards? Did she leave me any messages?”

  Perry looked at him thoughtfully and slapped him on the back. “No, none.”

  “You’re sure. Not even one message, maybe an apology or explanation?”

  “Sorry, Mark, but not one. She didn’t give a damn. If you tell me you’ve hooked up with her again, we’re stepping outside so I can kick your ass.”

  “Nothing like that. I never thought of it till recently. Thought maybe I missed …”

  “Forget it. You didn’t. Tell me about the pushy doctor. Is she pushy in bed?”

  “Shut up, asshole.”

  “I’m sure you’ve fucked her. I know you and pushy equals action in my book.”

  “We’ve had a little fun that usually ends that way, but it’s not …”

  “Not what?”

  He glanced at his new text message. I know our date is tomorrow, but can you stop by tonight? Soon?

  Out with a friend. Not tonight. He shook his head at Perry. “I’m feeling claustrophobic. I’m going home.”

  “Give Liddy a hug from Uncle Perry.”

  Your friend better not be a woman. I don’t share, and I’m definitely the jealous type.

  Mark gritted his teeth. She didn’t own him after a few dates. He’d do what he damn well pleased, and he needed to be clear. It’s none of your business, but I’m with Perry. Good-night.

  He shoved his phone in his pocket. The cool night air felt good after the heat in the bar. He started walking with no goal, just with the hope of clearing his head. Soon he found himself on Wager Street, approaching his old apartment and Mags. He was acting like a love-sick idiot. She might be entertaining the cowboy from this afternoon or… The outer door to the building opened, and the dog emerged first. She appeared next holding tightly to the leash, attempting to guide the dog down the block and into the park. The young dog had strength and energy, and poor Mags struggled to keep her close and safe. Dropping on to one of the park benches, she allowed the dog to stretch the retractable leash and wander to smell the flowers or investigate the bushes. Mark leaned against a tree watching them. He missed her. That longing had never gone away. He had buried it for the longest time but seeing her had resurrected all those feelings. For a moment her head tipped to one side, and he thought she was falling asleep. He should be beside her, holding the leash and her. That was the life he had wanted.

  He wanted to approach her, but he’d startle her, and… Fate stepped in. The dog ran to him almost like she knew him. Quickly sniffing his hand, she bent her head and snuggled against his leg. Mags was close behind her, surprise evident in those crystal blue eyes.

  He squatted down and the dog literally climbed on him, licking his face. “She’s a beautiful dog, Mags.”

  “She’s the one you wanted. She’s usually wary of strangers, but she seems to love you.”

  “What did you name her?”

  Mags laughed. “You named her. She answers to Rufus.”

  “Honey, I was kidding. I thought you knew that.” He rubbed the dog’s head, and she sat down beside him.

  “I knew that, but I didn’t know what to call her. I thought…” The tears welled up in her eyes, and she turned away.

  “You thought what?”

  “I thought you’d eventually come back and rename her.”

  As he tried to understand, she pulled the dog and started for the gate. “Mags, here give me the leash before she rips your arm off.”

  “The apartment is small for a dog this size.” Her eyes widened. “I’m still in our old apartment.”

  “Are you?” he said convincingly.

  “Why are you out here, Mark?”

  “I live close. Just needed to walk, get some air.”

  They walked silently. Mark giving gentle commands that the dog obeyed, and the night darkening quickly. He walked her to her door, an old familiarity overcoming him, that sense of loss crushing him, and a strange feeling of coming home. She took the leash. “Thanks for walking us home.”

  “Would you mind if I use the bathroom before I go?” He needed to go in, see his old place, recognize it as her place now with her obvious changes, and let it go.

  She watched him uneasily. “Sure, you know where it is.”

  He stepped back in time. Except for the dog bed and dish behind the entrance, it was exactly as he remembered. “You haven’t chan
ged a thing,” he said. Her seashells lined up on the window sill that they had picked up on the beach one sunny morning, the stacks of books piled in the corner of the living room, the beat-up table and chairs she had bought in a garage sale, and the pictures on the shelf in the kitchen. One picture of the two of them eating ice cream, one picture of him swinging a baseball bat, one picture at his cousin’s wedding, and one picture where he smiled into the camera. He remembered that day and how much he loved her.

  “No, I guess I haven’t changed much.” She flipped on the bedroom light to illuminate his path to the bathroom. “I could make coffee if you want.”

  “Don’t go to any trouble.” So formal and so unlike them.

  “No trouble.”

  He passed through the bedroom around the too big bed for the size of the room. The way the sun bounced off her long shiny hair back then, illuminating the strands into lengths of gold as she slept. In the bathroom her shampoos and lotions were scattered on the counter. Never enough room for his razors and aftershave. He stopped at the closet surprised to see several articles of his clothing—a suit, a pair of jeans, and a rock band t-shirt. Tossed on the bed haphazardly was one of his white tees. Her scent was all over it. He pictured her sleeping in it, falling to her mid-thigh and slipping off a shoulder. She handed him coffee and held his gaze. “I didn’t know I left clothes here. I’m surprised you didn’t throw them out.”

  “Why would I? I thought you’d come back for them.”

  “Mags.” He tried to reach for her, but she backed into the kitchen. Her eyes, usually easy for him to read were wary and distant.

  “You should go, Mark. It’s late.”

  “You’re right. Thanks for letting me use the bathroom.” He rubbed the dog’s head. “Rufus must eat a lot.”

  “She has a healthy appetite.”

  “Bye, Magnolia.” He left her again. The pain cut through him. He was tempted to go back. The hurt tore at her heart. She was tempted to go after him, but neither could hold onto the past or let it go.