“And how when she showed up with Le Frenchman, it broke your heart,” Selah adds.
“How do you know my heart was broken?” Gil asks. He didn’t realize how much he wore his heart on his sleeve back then.
“Oh, sweet Gil. We all knew you were in love with her. I think on some level even Maggie knew and maybe that’s why she went to France. She didn’t want to risk losing her best friend. She was in love with you, too, you know?” Selah pats his arm.
For years Gil has thought his feelings were one-sided, so Selah’s words sting. If she’s right, why did Maggie put both a continent and an ocean of distance between them?
“You think she loved me? I thought she figured out my feelings changed and didn’t return them. That’s why she never wrote to me from France. When she came back with Julien the next summer, her attention wasn’t on me.”
“Hmmm, Julien—The French Incident,” Jo muses. “The reason we call him that is because he was an anomaly in her life. I think all the sex did something to her brain.” Selah pushes her sunglasses up on her head. “Sexual awakenings can be powerful things. The brain releases all sorts of happy chemicals, which can easily be confused with love.”
“Sexual awakening? Great. That makes me feel better,” Gil scoffs, her statement bruising his ego, though he isn’t going to confess this to Selah and Jo.
“We’re trying to give you a pep talk here.” Jo gives him her mom face. “You and Maggie were a couple in all ways, but one back in college. You were great together.”
“The universe is setting you up for another chance. Don’t waste it,” Selah says, giving him a pointed look before turning around and telling Ben to stop at a liquor store.
“What this situation needs is more alcohol to loosen things up. I say we drink Jameson tonight.” Selah turns back again, winks at Gil, then puts on her sunglasses.
A night drinking Jameson changed everything between Gil and Maggie one summer night twenty-two years before.
“The thought of Jameson makes my head hurt.” Jo scowls. “I think I’ll stick with wine.”
Maggie stirs against Gil’s shoulder. “What’s all this talk of Jameson?” She mumbles, realizing she fell asleep on Gil. Wiping her mouth to check for drool, she straightens up. “Sorry if I drooled on you.” She studies at Gil’s shirt for wet spots.
“No drooling. But you did call out my name.” He winks at her.
“I did?” She flushes. Was she dreaming of Gil?
“I’m teasing,” he clarifies.
Maggie straightens her shirt and tries to contain the crazy on her head with her fingers.
“What’s with the Jameson talk?”
“I had a hankering for some tonight. For old-time’s sake,” Selah says, petting Biscuit, who sits on a towel between her and Jo.
Maggie’s mind drifts back to the last summer night when they all drank too much Jameson. It was the night before she left for France and the year that changed her life for better and worse.
“We should stop in Freeland. Maybe stock up on dinner stuff while we’re there.”
* * *
They go the liquor store first. A few bottles of whiskey are loaded into the back of the SUV before they drive over to the grocery store.
Maggie feels refreshed after her short nap. She grabs a cart as they head into the store. “Let’s divide and conquer. Meet up front in ten minutes?” she asks before heading toward produce with Gil following her.
Green Day plays over the speakers. Maggie starts singing along as she wanders past a man examining watermelons. Gil harmonizes on the chorus.
Maggie meets his eye and laughs. “Can you believe Green Day is playing in a grocery store?”
“These are sentimental times,” Gil says.
“When did you get to be so sentimental?” She places a few peaches into the cart.
“Aren’t all people?”
“I don’t think sociopaths and Cossacks are.” She pushes the cart down the aisle.
“No comment on the sociopaths, but I’m going to go out on a limb and defend the sentimental nature of Cossacks. They probably believe in love, too, otherwise there wouldn’t be small Cossacks.”
“I figured the Cossack armies raped and pillaged to create smaller Cossacks.” Maggie smiles at her deliberate misinterpretation of history to bait Gil.
“I’m being sentimental and you’re talking about raping and pillaging. You have a cold black heart, Maggie May. ” He fakes a grimace.
“I do not.” She pouts. “I’m pointing out historical facts. The fact you choose to sugarcoat and rose-tint history, professor, isn’t my fault.”
Gil laughs at her as they wander down the cereal aisle.
Maggie grabs a box of Captain Crunch from the shelf. “I used to love this stuff, but it cut the roof of my mouth.”
Gil puts the cereal in the cart. “That’s cause you shoved handfuls in your mouth straight from the box instead of eating cereal with milk, in a bowl, like a civilized person.”
Maggie sticks her tongue out at him. “Fine, then we need more milk, Mr. Civilized. I don’t remember you being so refined the time we got stoned and found all the subliminal sex images on the box of Cracker Jacks.”
Gil laughs. “It wasn’t me drawing circles around imaginary cocks on the box. That was Selah. I was busy trying to the write down all the cultural references in ‘Shake Your Rump’ on Paul’s Boutique.”
“Right, makes more sense that was Selah. She’s always been obsessed with naked people. Remember when she made us all go to that life drawing class?” Maggie and Gil both shudder.
“I swear that model was an STD poster waiting to happen.” Gil shudders.
They continue to reminisce and laugh as they make their way through the store, tossing random things in the cart. Turning a corner, they run into Connie.
“Oh, hello Maggie!” Connie air kisses Maggie’s cheek while keeping her eyes on Gil. “Is this your new fella? I thought I heard you were seeing John Day. Hi, I’m Connie.” She sticks her hand out for Gil to shake.
“Gilliam Morrow,” he introduces himself, shaking her hand.
“Very nice to meet you.” Connie is practically purring. “Where has Maggie been hiding you?”
She cringes over Connie inferring she’s dating John. Where does this woman get her information? She probably has all the phone lines tapped on South Whidbey.
Quinn walks up and says, “In her bed. Where else?”
Maggie wants to kick him. “Connie, this is my other friend, Quinn Dayton. My college friends are up visiting for the weekend. A few more of them are scattered around here somewhere.”
“Oh, well, my mistake.” Connie is still holding Gil’s hand and releases it. “The way you two were smiling and carrying on seemed like you were an item.”
Wanting to cut off any potential gossip, Maggie assures her they are all just friends before steering them away from Connie.
“Great. Of course we run into the biggest gossip on the island. Our engagement will be announced in the paper.”
“I should get a box of Cracker Jacks for a ring.” Gil chuckles.
Maggie snorts. “Classy.”
“Would you rather have a candy ring? I’m pretty certain they have those here somewhere.” Gil teases.
“Mrs. and Dr. Morrow—I like the sound,” Quinn congratulates them. “Can I be the best man and maid of honor?”
They both ignore him and go to find Selah, Ben and Jo at the front of the store.
“Get everything you need?” Maggie asks.
“Who knows? Ben found Olympia beer and I got some things for appetizers.” Jo points at their cart.
“We’re buying Captain Crunch. Figured it would go with whiskey.” Gil gestures at the box.
Maggie and Gil crack up when they see Selah holding a box of Cracker Jacks.
“What? I like the surprise.” She looks at them both like they are crazy.
“Sur
prises,” Maggie stutters before laughing again. Gil joins her with his own barely contained laughter.
“You two are nuts.” Selah tosses the box in the cart.
Gil wheezes with laughter.
Maggie’s still laughing as they check out. “You know the whole Cracker Jack thing isn’t even at all funny. It really isn’t.” She starts giggling again.
“Come on, Chuckles.” Gil throws his arm around her shoulders.
She sees Connie watching them from the next check out line. Turning her head, she catches Gil’s wink at Connie when they pass by her. Let her gossip about my new fella, Maggie thinks. That should stir up things.
Sixteen
Everyone wanders off in their own direction when they get back to the house. With a mumbled explanation about fresh air and forced marches, Selah drags herself upstairs to take what Maggie assumes is a nap. Ben and Jo walk down the beach holding hands.
Maggie sees the dirty Scrabble game contains a few more words. She is able to play ‘KISS’ to add to the board’s array of dirtier actions.
Gil flops down on the sofa, pulls out his phone, and taps away on the screen.
She doesn’t want to pry, but can’t help herself. Curious who he’s texting, she sits next to him, and asks, “Texting a lady friend?”
“Lady friend?” Gil smirks. “No, not a lady friend.”
“Is there a lady friend in the picture?” She pushes, trying to keep things light by using the silly description.
“Are you asking if I’m seeing someone? If so, the answer is no. Not dating at the moment.”
“Selah told me you’ve had a girlfriend for a while now.” She’s embarrassed at her obvious lack of subtlety, but delighted he isn’t dating.
“Oh, that.” His hand goes to the back of his neck. “Selah was trying to set me up with every single and not-so-single woman she knew in Portland. I maybe let her believe I was seeing someone to get her to back off.” He avoids her eyes. “Selah was pretty mad on the drive up when I confessed. I didn’t realize she had told you that.” His gaze drifts toward John’s house. “I could ask the same about you. Dating?”
“Are you asking if I have a lady friend? The answer is no. Selah and I tried the ‘lady friends with benefits’ thing sophomore year. Wasn’t for me.”
“I remember that night. You two are lucky we went to college before camera phones. By the way, I think Ben kept that Polaroid. Don’t tell Jo. And you didn’t answer my question about dating anyone. What about the lumberjack?”
The thought of dating John makes her laugh. “John? No, no we are not dating.”
“Are you sleeping with him?” he asks, bluntly.
It’s a good thing she isn’t drinking something or she would do a spit-take. “No, not sleeping with him either. Might make things awkward if it didn’t work out.” Cringing over her words, she avoids his eyes.
“Good. I mean that you’re not sleeping with him. Not the awkward after part. That part sucks.” He catches her eye, leaving the meaning of his words hanging between them.
Maggie knows he is no longer talking about John. The need to avoid any more talk of awkwardness makes her to deflect the topic away from herself, like she always does. Embarrassed to admit to Gil how long low ago she dated anyone, she brings the conversation back to him.
“Do you date? I mean since the divorce. Do you go on lots of dates? Out there dating?”
So much for avoiding awkwardness.
Gil laughs. Curious, are you? I’ve dated since Judith, nothing serious. It isn’t as easy to date these days. I refused to do any more online dating, especially after Selah’s Mr. Rochester incident.”
“You know about Mr. Rochester?” Maggie leans back into the sofa, tucking her feet underneath her. The tension of Gil bringing up their past is forgotten.
“Selah showed everyone that email. I told her she should ask about his crazy first wife in the attic. I mean, if you are going to go with a romantic hero, the blind, burned guy who is almost killed by his crazy wife isn’t going to bring in the ladies.”
“No, not the best role model. Although, he truly loves Jane. He was a victim of fate and circumstances out of his control. They find love in the end, despite their roadblocks, that’s what matters.”
“You’ve always been such a romantic.” Gil looks at her softly. The tension and awkwardness of the ‘are you single?’ conversation dissipates.
“Literature and French. I was doomed from the start.” Maggie sighs.
“Before we get overly melancholy and take arsenic to end it all, maybe we should go for a walk on the beach. See if we can find Ben and Jo.” Gil stretches his back.
“Walking on beach is very French Lieutenant’s Woman waiting for her love to return to her.”
“Beware of moors and beaches.” He gets up and offers his hand to pull her up off the couch.
“And cliffs. Don’t forget the cliffs.” She smiles as she stands.
“Can’t forget the cliffs. You must have some place to throw yourself when love ends.”
“We sound like we are writing one of Selah’s smut books.”
“Have you read them?” Gil asks.
“I have.” She lowers her voice and whispers, “They are very dirty.”
Gil laughs at her.
“Have you?” she asks.
“I’ve skimmed one. I think the title was The Pink Pearl. Who knew there were so many ways to sheath a scabbard?” He mock cringes.
“Or the many ways to shiver timbers.” She walks toward the door. “Makes me wonder if Selah keeps a trunk full of pirate costumes in her bedroom.”
They walk out on the deck and down to the beach, pirate euphemisms flying between them.
* * *
After their walk, they find Selah opening a bottle of wine in the kitchen. Maggie hops up on the counter, opens the Captain Crunch, and grabs a handful, chewing a big mouthful of cereal, then wincing.
“It still hurts,” she says with her mouth full.
Selah and Gil chuckle.
“Did you think it changed?” Selah asks.
“Gil and I were talking about it at the grocery store. I thought they would change the formula due to lawsuits and irate parents. Guess not.” She closes the box and pats the top.
“As good as you remembered?” Gil stands in front of her and taps her knees.
“It’s delicious. My teeth hurt and I think I cut my cheek.” She pouts.
“Here, wash it down with some wine.” Selah hands her a glass of white wine.
“Sauvignon Blanc?” Maggie asks, tasting it.
“It is indeed.”
“It’s tasty. Want some?” She offers the glass to Gil.
He takes a sip. “That’s good. Selah, pour me some, if you don’t mind.”
The three of them are hanging around in the kitchen when Quinn wanders through with his iPod and puts it in the wireless speaker dock.
“I made us a playlist: Songs to Remember What You Forgot.” He turns up the volume. Lenny Kravitz’s voice fills the room.
Quinn shuffles over to Maggie, bows, and extends his hand. “Dance with me?”
Gil steps aside and she hops off the counter to dance with Quinn.
“Dancing in the kitchen again?” Jo walks in and then pours herself a glass of wine while Ben takes out a bottle of Alaskan Amber from the fridge.
Quinn sings a few lines of “Always on the Run” in falsetto. Maggie turns her back to him and sways her hips. He spanks her, making her laugh.
“Okay, big boy, save the dirty stuff for Ryan.”
“What time does Ryan get here?” Gil asks, staring at Maggie’s swaying hips.
“His plane arrives early morning and he’ll take a car service to the ferry. I figured I could borrow Bessie to go pick him up.” Quinn winks at Maggie.
“Nice try. You can drive the Subaru.”
“Boring. You’re no fun.”
“Bessie is too old
to have her gears ground by the likes of you, Mr. Dayton.” She jokes and pats his chest. “Who’s hungry? And more importantly, who’s up for killing some crabs?”
Selah, Ben, Jo and Quinn make faces.
“Wusses. Okay, I’ll deal with it myself.” Maggie grabs a large pot from the lower cupboard and fills it with water. “Can someone bring the cooler in from the garage?”
“I’ll set the table,” Quinn volunteers.
“I’ll help.” Selah joins him in gathering napkins and silverware.
“Cowards,” Maggie says.
“I’ll make a salad,” Jo offers.
“I’ll get the crabs.” Gil heads toward the garage.
“My hero!” Maggie exclaims and dramatically clutches her clasped hands to her chest. Feeling playful, she kisses him on the cheek as he passes by her.
“I’ll never wash this cheek again.” He plays along, touching his face.
“Watching you and Gil right now, it doesn’t seem like any time has passed at all,” Ben comments.
“That’s a good thing, right?” Maggie asks.
“Tonight, it’s a very good thing. It’s nice not to be Benton Grant, VP, father, homeowner, blah blah blah, and just be Ben.”
“There’s a lot on your shoulders. I’m always impressed by all you’ve accomplished. You’re a real grown up.” Maggie compliments him.
“Yeah, but being a grown up all the time is tedious. Trust me on this. I envy your simple life here on the island. Feeding off the land and all.”
Jo takes lettuce and cucumbers out of the fridge. “Ben has these fantasies of leaving it all behind and going to live off the land like Thoreau,” Jo scoffs. “He’d last a week, tops. And only with a real bed, not a sleeping bag.”
“The Grants are not campers.” Maggie chuckles at the image of Ben in a tent, sleeping on the ground.
“Getting out of the rat race would be wonderful, for a bit. I couldn’t walk away from it all, though. Kids need to go to college. I need to retire. Jo needs her upkeep.” His words are light, but have an edge to them.
“Not to mention the giant alimony you’d be forced to pay me if I divorced you,” Jo says as she starts chopping tomatoes from the basket on the counter.
Geoducks are for Lovers Page 12
