by Val Daniels
Maggie glanced at her with one raised brow then went on. “Well, you’re right about one thing. If Dan even suspects anything might be wrong with you, he’ll have you back in the hospital before you can blink. I guess it isn’t my worry.”
You’re right, it isn’t, Alicia wanted to say. “So what were you doing out here?” Alicia asked instead, still wondering whether it was good or bad to be rescued by your husband’s girlfriend. At least it had saved her a lot of tiring explanations.
“Visiting my aunt,” Maggie explained. “She had a stroke last year, and since she’s a widow and my cousins all live fairly far away, she’s alone. I check in a couple of times a week and take her groceries and things since she doesn’t get around very well.”
What a saint! Alicia squirmed inside. She knew she was being hateful, even if she wasn’t saying out loud the vicious things she was thinking. Maggie had never been anything but sweet and kind and good to her. It wasn’t Maggie’s fault that her and Dan’s timing had always been off. And Alicia honestly couldn’t believe that Maggie was doing anything now to hasten the demise of Alicia’s marriage. They were all just waiting, waiting as patiently and civilly as they could given the circumstances.
Maggie slowed and turned into the drive as Dan’s burgundy car came down the street from the other way.
Alicia would have hopped out and been in the house before Dan could get in the drive but Maggie was quicker, and Alicia’s muscles were a little stiff. Before she could get her legs out and her bulky body standing, Maggie was at her door, reaching in to help.
Dan lurched to a stop outside the garage and came racing over. “What’s wrong?” he asked breathlessly.
“Alicia had a wreck,” Maggie answered.
“I hit a patch of ice and my car slid off the road,” Alicia corrected.
Dan gasped as he saw the bump on her forehead. Before she could say a word, he swung her up and into his arms and started for the house.
“I’m okay, Dan,” she protested.
Dan ignored her. “Here, Maggie.” He tossed the keys he was holding in one hand to Maggie. “Get the door, would you?”
“Sure.” She hustled ahead of them to the front door.
“Please, Dan, put me down. I’m all right.”
He continued to ignore her until he got to the couch by the fire in the hearth room. lying her down gently, he reached to flip the switch on the lamp on the end table. She’d never seen his face so white. For a moment, as he gently traced the bump, pressing softly against the most tender spot, she let herself pretend he really cared.
Then, after she insisted and explained that this—the bump and the sore lip—was the only damage done, he turned his attention to his baby.
“You okay in there,” he whispered as he slowly started a circular massage of her abdomen with the heel of his hand.
And Alicia wanted to cry.
He sighed deeply as he finished his examination of her and sank onto the footstool at one end of the couch. “Don’t you dare,” he warned as she started to swing her legs over the side of the sofa and get up. “Just stay put for a little while.” He didn’t need the words, the glare was plenty.
Allie eyed him warily and eased herself back against the cushions. “That’s better,” he congratulated her.
“This is silly,” she couldn’t resist muttering.
“Everything’s all right?” Maggie had been hovering by the edge of the counter separating this part of the big room from the kitchen. She moved into the light.
Dan nodded. “Seems to be.”
“Dan, I really need to check on the casserole I put in the oven before I left,” Alicia said. “Can’t you smell it?”
“Let me.” Maggie swiveled to go into the kitchen and Alicia watched as she went directly to the drawer where the potholders were kept and then reached for the oven.
“I said I think everything seems to be okay,” Dan said quietly, recapturing her attention. “It won’t hurt to be a little cautious.”
“Of course not. Not where our baby’s concerned,” Alicia agreed, suddenly glad her lip was swollen. If it wasn’t, it would be quivering, giving away her distress over being reminded once again, that all his tenderness, all his concern—their whole relationship—had everything to do with the baby and nothing to do with her.
He stood and Maggie drew him to the other side of the room like a magnet. “I’m glad you were there, Mag. Thanks for bringing Allie home.”
“I’m glad I was, too, Dan.” She turned toward Alicia. “And you’ll be glad to know, the casserole isn’t too much worse for the wear. A little crisp around the edges maybe, but it’s not burnt.”
“Thanks, Maggie.” Alicia shot a wary look at Dan. She wasn’t looking forward to being alone with him. Her heartbeat still hadn’t settled from him touching her while he examined her. “I’m sure he won’t let me be much of a hostess,” she said as Maggie picked her purse up from the chair where she’d put it. “But why don’t you stay and have dinner with us? If you don’t have plans, that is,” she added.
“You’re right about being a hostess. You’re not getting off that couch for a while,” Dan said evenly. “But I can be pretty good that way. How about it, Maggie? I guarantee you, I’ll be almost as good as Allie would be.”
Maggie practically glowed. “Are you sure? Do you feel up to it?”
Alicia nodded and looked quickly away. She couldn’t bear seeing Maggie’s pleasure at the thought.
“I’ll stay if you’ll let me get dinner on for you.” She’d already began bustling, taking off the coat she hadn’t yet thought to remove. “You’ve both had a rough day. And I’d love to think I’m helping out.”
Alicia suddenly hated that Maggie would automatically know the kind of day he had had when she hadn’t even had a chance to ask. And she thoroughly hated that Maggie was kind enough to be willing to “help” the woman who was living with the man she loved. What could she do but tell Maggie what she’d planned to include with their evening meal?
“You get the salad started while I go and change clothes,” Dan told Maggie. “Then I’ll set the table.”
Maggie swung into action.
Dan’s gaze held Alicia’s for a minute. He seemed to be expressing gratitude. Then he wheeled around on one foot and left the room.
By the time Dan returned, Maggie had unearthed some ancient TV trays from the front closet. I should have her take me by the hand and show me where everything is in this house, Alicia thought, watching from her enforced position on the couch.
“What do you think?” Maggie asked when Dan rejoined them.
“Great idea.” He nodded his agreement and set about building a fire in the fireplace. Then they both joined Alicia and settled in for a quiet meal.
“I feel like a fraud, Maggie,” Alicia said as she took a bite of the green salad Maggie had made. “You rescue me, then you come home with me and wait on us. I should be waiting on you, just to show my gratitude.” And no matter how I try, I can’t seem to help but like you, she wanted to add.
“To tell you the truth, Allie,” again Maggie used Dan’s name for her and Alicia fought the urge to correct her. “I’m so delighted to have some company, I’d probably bring the entire meal if you asked, just for the chance to share it. The weekends are the hardest to get through since my divorce,” she added wryly. “I start dreading Friday night on Tuesday, it seems.”
“You and your husband had an active social life?” Alicia asked.
“Not really,” Maggie replied. “We’d always go out to dinner or something. I suppose the weekends seem longer now because for two days there’s no one to talk to unless I go out and find them.”
Alicia became very interested in the crispy edges of the enchilada casserole. She didn’t want to see the look of promise Dan might give Maggie. She didn’t want to think about the way her weekends would be after she and Maggie traded places when the baby was born.
“According to Mom, that’s the nicest thing a
bout having kids,” Dan said. “She would say that no matter what else happened, when Dad was called out on emergencies, she always had company—”
“Whether she wanted it or not,” Maggie finished for him with the air of authority of someone who’d heard it all firsthand. She sobered almost immediately. “I know your pregnancy hasn’t exactly been a breeze for you,” she added, looking at Alicia. “But I’m so jealous of you. At least when all this is over, you’re going to have a baby to show for the difficult times.” Maggie’s voice held awe, and Alicia wondered momentarily whether maybe Maggie couldn’t have kids herself. That would explain a lot. Maybe she and her husband...
“What do you mean?” Dan protested. “We’re having so much fun, I’m ready to have ten more.”
“You’re ready to have ten more?” Alicia sneaked a peek at Maggie from beneath her lowered lashes.
“You know what I mean,” he said to Alicia before turning back to Maggie. “You wouldn’t believe how exciting it is when the baby moves.” His whole face brightened. He went on to tell Maggie about feeling the baby move for the first time when he’d visited her in Greenville right before Christmas. “Despite what anyone might think, I can’t imagine our baby being more real to me in a couple of months than she is right now. She hears my voice. She knows when I’m there. She responds to me,” he added a little sheepishly as he caught the expression on both Maggie’s and Alicia’s faces. “I can’t help it,” he said defensively. “It’s exciting.”
“I wish I would have had a baby or two,” Maggie said wistfully. “And that’s only the thirty-fifth time he’s told me about his trip to Greenville,” she added teasingly, but the longing note was still there.
“Can Maggie not have children?” Alicia asked as soon as she had gone.
Dan lifted one shoulder. “She said she and her husband were trying for a while—until she realized the marriage wasn’t going to last and that a baby or two wasn’t going to fix it. Don’t make something from nothing, Alicia,” Dan warned.
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” he said, and swept her up into his arms. “Now, let’s get you to bed.”
“I can walk, Dan. You said yourself, everything’s —”
“We had a close call at the beginning of your pregnancy,” he said. “I can’t see any reason to take chances now. If you still feel fine in the morning, you can go on like normal. If not, I’m taking you in to see Bill.”
He paused in the hall, smothering her with the intensity of the look in his eyes as he held hers. “If it makes you feel better, pretend this has nothing to do with the baby. Pretend I want an excuse to hold you,” he said softly.
She felt his heart thump under the hand she’d braced against his chest. “I’m not very good at make-believe games,” she whispered. “I think I’d better stick with reality.”
He sighed deeply, and she wanted to lay her weary head against his neck and do just what he’d suggested. Pretend.
After declaring her okay the next morning, Dan went to see about getting her car out of the ditch. He’d been gone only minutes when the neighbor rang the doorbell.
“Ms. Marks,” Alicia said, opening it. “I haven’t seen you the past couple of weeks.”
“The weather,” the old woman chirped. “Don’t you know that weather keeps you in when you’re my age. Glad it’s almost springlike today.”
Alicia opened the door wider and glanced at the clear sky. The unseasonably warm sun was steadily melting the layer of snow from the ground, but the air was still crisp. “Won’t you come in?”
“Don’t mind if I do.” The woman teetered on her birdlike stick legs. “Brought you some cinnamon rolls,” she said, offering a foil pan covered in more foil. “That’s what I did yesterday while it was snowing.”
“They smell wonderful,” Alicia said, closing out the cool breeze as she drew in a breath of warm spice. “Thank you for thinking of us, Ms. Marks.”
“Eleanor,” she corrected in a prim school-teacherish manner that wasn’t surprising, considering that Ms. Marks had been Dan’s third grade teacher. “Remember, I told you to call me Eleanor.”
“Sorry, Eleanor. Would you share a cinnamon roll with me, Eleanor?” The woman was obviously waiting for something.
“I’ve already had one, but I wouldn’t mind a cup of coffee.”
“Good. I just put a fresh pot of coffee on,” Alicia said, leading the way into the kitchen.
Alicia filled a mug as Eleanor went on about the weather, about the space in the back yard where Dan’s grandmother had always planted her garden, about what close friends she and Mildred had been and how much she missed the woman.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet her,” Alicia said as Eleanor sipped at the hot coffee.
“Maybe it’s just as well,” Eleanor said mysteriously.
“What do you mean?”
Eleanor shook her head and tightened her lips for a moment.
Alicia frowned. “I really don’t understand...”
“Why did you let that little Maggie Infield bring you home last night?”
She assumed Infield had been Maggie’s maiden name. Alicia couldn’t help but smile. Probably in Ms. Marks’s eyes, no kid in town, including Dan and Maggie, ever advanced past the age they were in third grade. “I had a little wreck,” Alicia explained. “My car slid on the ice and, fortunately, Maggie was the first one along. She brought me home. Dan went to see about getting my car towed out of the ditch a little while ago,” she added.
“You weren’t hurt?” Ms. Marks exclaimed, concern replacing the censure Alicia had sensed in her tone earlier.
“No. Dan was afraid I might be,” Alicia said. “He and Maggie fussed over me all evening. Thank heavens, he finally believed me this morning when I told him I was okay.”
“I’m glad to hear that’s all it was.” Ms. Marks frowned for a second, compressing her lips before taking a sip of her hot coffee. “You know, dear, you should practice a bit more caution.”
“I know,” Alicia started. “Except I’m not sure I could have avoided that accident. Those slippery ro—”
“That’s not exactly what I mean,” Eleanor interrupted. “I’m in a bit of a quandary, Alicia. You see, if Mildred—Dan’s grandmother—was here, I’m certain she would have some words of advice for you.” She paused a moment, her eyes sharp as she studied Alicia until she wanted to squirm. She felt like she’d been caught with a cheat sheet in class. “And although I’m certain exactly what Mildred would want me to do in her stead, I’m just not certain my intervention would be welcome,” Eleanor said rhetorically.
Alicia didn’t need to answer. Whatever Eleanor wanted to say would obviously be said.
“Mildred expended a great deal of grief over the situation between Daniel and Laura, you know,” she went on. “Though she loved her son dearly, she couldn’t tolerate the slapdash way he treated his vows. I heard many an—”
“Eleanor, I’m not sure—”
“—argument between Daniel and his mother,” she went on despite Alicia’s interruption. “Mildred didn’t condone his—”
“But I don’t know—”
“You knew Daniel spent the thirty-odd years of their marriage running around on Laura, don’t you?”
“I’ve heard more than I want to, actually,” Alicia said quickly, rising, “and I’ve been trying hard not to listen. I mean, whatever happened between Dan’s father and mother isn’t really any of my business.”
“Except I think Mildred would tell you to learn from the past, as they say. And that’s why I feel Mildred would want me to caution you in this situation.”
What situation? Alicia wanted to ask.
Of course, she should have known she didn’t need to. Ms. Marks was determined to tell her. “If Mildred was here, I think she would want you to know that just because Dan is so much like his father in so many ways, it doesn’t have to mean... well, you know. It doesn’t have to mean he will stray. Not if you
don’t make it easy for him. Not if you don’t encourage him. And having Maggie Infield here like that is just exactly that.” The censure in Eleanor’s voice was vivid.
Alicia felt a guilty need to stop the conversation, but it mixed with a perverse desire to hear the morbid details. “What I don’t understand is that if Daniel was unfaithful to Laura for so many years,” she started, “why did she stay with him? Why did she put up with it? Why does she talk about him like he was the sun and the moon and the stars? I just don’t understand how their marriage could have been so terrible in everyone else’s eyes and not hers.”
Eleanor obviously didn’t like her authority on the subject being questioned. Her lips shriveled into her face and her small eyes glittered like ice. “I suppose you should ask Laura that,” she said primly.
“I suppose I should,” Alicia said quietly. For all the good the knowledge would do me. Knowing everything in the world isn’t going to solve my problems. “And I really don’t see what this has to do with Dan and me.”
“I had hoped by doing what Mildred would if she was here, I could save you some of the same troubles Laura had.” She held her back ramrod straight as she gathered her jacket from the back of her chair.
“Eleanor, I know you’re trying to help,” Alicia said, reaching across the table to pat the woman’s dry and frail-looking hand. “And I appreciate your concern. I’m sure Dan’s grandmother would be grateful for your...efforts on her behalf.”
Eleanor rose on spindly legs and strutted to the front door. “I’m sure I only hope everything remains perfect in your marriage,” she said.
I’m sure you do! She followed Eleanor and wondered what the woman would do if she told her it was already too late to worry about her marriage. This was one of those “just for the baby” situations. Eleanor Marks would probably go directly to all the other neighbors and pass the news along. On the pretext of sharing her concern, of course.
Alicia praised the cinnamon rolls again.
