by Jeannie Moon
Whatever that meant.
He had to admit, it was an award winning performance. And after seeing her go off like that, he felt lucky. Like he’d escaped—but he didn’t tell anyone that. Especially after she’d gone through so much trouble to make him look like the bad guy.
Too bad for her, no one bought it.
In any case, it showed Will just how desperate he’d become regarding relationships. He was almost forty, was tired of playing games and dating, but he kept pursuing the wrong women. It was possible he might not be cut out for a long-term relationship simply because he was such a crappy judge of character.
What he wanted was a partner. Someone who wasn’t afraid of bumpy roads, but who welcomed life’s challenges. Someone who didn’t keep score. God knew, he wasn’t perfect, but he’d never believed love was about perfection. Love was about embracing your partner’s imperfections, along with your own.
Will had a good life. He had a job that had saved him at a low point in his life, his family, and great friends. His want of something more seemed shallow when compared with others who had lost so much. People like Maggie, who was looking up at him with her soulful brown eyes and a bright smile.
“Do you want to sit down, Coach? Or are you waiting for a better offer?”
Shit. He wasn’t going to get a better offer than sitting next to her. “No. Ah. I get lost in my own head sometimes.”
Great. She was looking at him like he’d sprouted wings or something. This woman had balls of steel, and here he was being introspective. Sitting next to her, she scooted over a little when she realized he took up more room than expected. “Sorry.”
“No worries,” she said. “So what were you thinking about?”
“Well, um…” He formulated the lie in his head. “I was thinking about my family. My parents would love this. They used to come to all of my games, football, basketball… it was great.”
“Do they live around here? You could bring them. Holly Point would love it. And they could see how much you’re admired here.”
“Admired, eh. I don’t know about that.”
“Well I do. People think quite a lot of you.”
He couldn’t respond because he never thought someone should expect admiration for doing his or her job, and being pleasant.
“That’s nice, but it’s unnecessary.”
“So, what about your family?”
“I guess, I was thinking I should make time to go and see my folks.”
“Not local?” Maggie asked.
“Arizona. I haven’t been out there since summer.” He really needed to get out there more, but it had always been difficult with basketball. His father just turned seventy-five and his mother was seventy-two. Not old, but something could happen in a heartbeat.
“You won’t be seeing them for Thanksgiving?”
“No, unfortunately. It’s too hard to get out there. I mean, I have school until the day before. No time to travel.”
Maggie’s face fell. “Well, that’s not okay. Where are you having your holiday?”
He didn’t know. He was supposed to be with his ex and her family. “I’m not sure, to be honest.” The last thing Will wanted was to sound pathetic. He could manage on his own, if he had to.
“I’m sorry, but that’s just not okay,” she said without hesitation. “You’ll come to our house.”
Go to the Bensons’? It definitely had its appeal, but he couldn’t say yes. “Thank you for that, but I don’t want to impose on your parents.”
“Coach, it’s not an imposition. If it were, I wouldn’t have asked without checking with my mother, the holiday commander-in-chief. You will be there. Understood?” Her tone was firm, military and very confident.
He didn’t know how to respond. So he tried to be funny. “Yes, Ma’am.”
Maggie’s face froze and Will wondered if he hadn’t made a big mistake calling attention to her status as an officer. But in a moment, she grinned, nodded, and chuckled softly. “I’m glad that’s settled. I’ll let my mother know.”
“Let me know what?” How Mary Pat heard what Maggie said with all the noise in the stands was a miracle. The place was loud.
“Will’s having Thanksgiving with us.”
Her entire family looked at him, stone-faced. Crap.
“That’s wonderful!” Mary Pat’s face bloomed into a sweet smile. “We’d love to have you!”
“See?” Maggie smiled up at him. The fun and mischief he saw in her eyes—the wonder—even after all she’d been through, made his heart trip.
What. The. Hell.
Lowering his mouth toward her ear, he caught her scent. A hint of flowers, herbs, musk and cold weather, it was intoxicating. “Thank you,” he whispered. If he said anything else, he could be in trouble.
Chapter Two
‡
A YEAR OUT from the amputation and the skin on her stump was finally feeling normal, but normal was a relative term. The burn scars kept Maggie from ever forgetting what she’d been through. Taking a generous amount of moisturizer from the jar, she massaged the cream into the area. Never wanting to deal with an infection again, she was meticulous about skin care.
She paid particular attention to the actual scar, moving the skin so adhesions didn’t form, then went into her routine of tapping and gently slapping the skin for a minute to keep it desensitized.
Maggie had taken total control of her recovery once she climbed out of the depression that consumed her after she lost her lower leg. She attacked rehab like an enemy. She worked. Hard. She got stronger and currently was in the best shape of her life.
Ironic, since she no longer knew where she fit in.
Things were even different at home. She’d been back for four days and the parade of family in and out of the house had been exhausting. Aunts, uncles, cousins, and her grandmothers all fussed and asked endless questions. But they loved her and she was glad to see them. There were new babies, marriages, homes, and careers. It was a reminder of how much she’d missed.
Her childhood bedroom wasn’t how she left it. The furniture was the same, but it had been painted and there was new bedding. It was actually perfect and she had to hand it to her mother, she knew her well. The bathroom next door had been outfitted with a special tub and shower to make it easier for Maggie to get in and out, and there were handicap rails on all the walls.
No one mentioned the changes to her before she arrived home, but Maggie had noticed immediately. And it was one more thing that made her both grateful and guilty. Her family was wonderful, and she’d shut them out.
There was a light tapping on her door and Maggie flipped the towel over her leg, still self-conscious about the look of the injury. “Come in.”
Her mom poked her head in and smiled. Mary Patricia Reilly Benson was a pediatric nurse practitioner who’d been working with Dr. Ed Gervais, the local pediatrician, for the last ten years. Before that, she worked in a neonatal unit in a large teaching hospital about an hour from Holly Point. But needing a break from the stress of dealing with really sick babies, she went back to school and took the position with Dr. Ed.
Petite, chubby, and with the same coloring as Maggie, her mother wore her fifty-seven years very well. “Are you settling in okay?”
“Yes. The travel was a nightmare, it’s still dragging on me, but I loved seeing everyone this weekend. It’s been wonderful. Thanks, Mom.”
Her mother sat on the edge of the bed and reached out, laying a hand on the towel clad leg. “I haven’t wanted to ask, but how are you feeling? You look terrific.”
That was the hardest question she was asked. She didn’t know how she was feeling because it changed day-to-day. “It’s still an adjustment sometimes. Hard to deal with, but I’m doing okay.”
“May I?” Her mother wanted to see. Maggie swallowed. She didn’t let anyone see.
“Mom, I don’t know if you want to.”
“Maggie, you’re my daughter. I love you. If it concerns you, it concerns
me.” Her mother’s hand touched Maggie’s face. It was warm, just like her mother’s heart. “On top of that,” Mom said, “I am a professional.”
Maggie nodded, and gently her mother moved the towel. At first, she was solemn, examining the scar from the amputation. Then, looking at the damage left by the burns. “Honestly,” she said, “I expected worse. And the tattoo is a nice touch.”
Maggie didn’t know how to react to that. The infection that invaded a healing skin graft was devastating, painful, and would have killed her had they not stopped it by amputating her foot, ankle, and part of her calf. It could have been worse, of course, but this was pretty bad.
The tattoo? Her mother only saw a tiny bit of it, but it was Maggie’s way of fighting back. It was new, only a month old, and it was a way of laying claim to her body.
She could be dead; she knew that. And while there was a time when Maggie thought that was what she wanted, it wasn’t now. Thinking about her family—her sisters, her brother, and her parents—made her fight. It made her want to live.
Now she just had to figure out what she was supposed to do since she’d decided to stick around.
But not bad? How could she say it wasn’t bad? “It’s pretty awful from my angle.”
“Oh, absolutely. I was certain it was going to be much worse, but the burn scars are not terrible, and you still have most of your leg. I know that’s not the same as having it whole, but honey, you survived something truly harrowing. I hope the Navy gave you a medal.”
She’d received two medals, and strangely, a memento from the company that made the ejection seat. It was meant as a souvenir to commemorate her survival.
“I’m sorry I didn’t let you see me. I know shutting you out hurt you. But I was in really bad shape after the surgery. I felt… disgusting. I didn’t want you to see me like that.”
“Baby, I saw you when they were treating the burns on your left side. God, you were in such pain. It was awful. Did you really think an amputation would be worse than that?”
“I thought the worst was over. I mean, after beating the initial injuries, to lose a limb because of an infection crushed me. I didn’t know how to deal with it. And the pain? Mom, I still feel it sometimes. It’s phantom pain, but it’s there.” Maggie grabbed a tissue and dabbed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have let you stay. I missed you guys.”
“Oh honey.” Mom grasped her hand. “You’re here now, so let’s not dwell.”
There was a moment of silence as they both collected their thoughts.
“Thanks for making the bathroom easier for me to manage. And my room is beautiful.”
Mom smiled. Noticing the changes that had been made was all Maggie had to do. Over the past two years, small kindnesses, even when she didn’t want them, meant so much. There were many people who had put themselves out for her, strangers she’d never be able to thank. It felt good to be able to express gratitude.
“So, what do you think of Will Fitzgerald?” Mom’s question was supposed to be casual, nonchalant. It wasn’t. She was fishing.
“He seems nice. Why do you ask?”
“Because you invited him to Thanksgiving dinner!”
“Is that a problem? He doesn’t have any place to go.” She never expected to be questioned about inviting someone to the house. Being alone on a major holiday sucked. Having been through a few recently herself, she could relate.
“No, not at all. But I was wondering, are you interested? Is that why you asked him? He’s very attractive, and such a lovely man.”
Interested? Romantically? She had to knock that out of her mother’s head right now. “I was just being nice, Mom. Don’t read anything into it.”
Her mother winked. Winked! “But you do think he’s handsome, don’t you? I mean that jaw, those blue eyes. That body.” Mom put a hand over her heart. “He’s a panty-dropper, that one.”
“Mother! It is not appropriate to describe your son’s basketball coach as a panty-dropper.”
“Why? He is. You and Sabrina always used that term. I hated it when I heard you using it, but I think it applies in Will’s case. What do you think?”
“I can’t believe you said that.”
“I’m not dead, you know.” She paused, leaned in, and kissed Maggie’s forehead before rising from the bed. “And neither, my darling, are you.”
“Mom, it’s not happening. I’m not getting a happy ever after. Not with the way things are now. I wouldn’t want to burden anyone with… with my issues.”
“Burden? Mary Margaret Benson, you are many things, but you will never be a burden to anyone but yourself.”
When her mother pulled the door shut, Maggie leaned back into the soft pillows on her bed and thought about what Mom said. Then she thought about Will Fitzgerald. He was gorgeous. Tall, with dark hair and electric blue eyes, he possessed a combination of self-confidence and humility. It was very attractive, but she couldn’t imagine him being interested in her. He was an athlete—able-bodied—and she was anything but.
Thinking about him made her ache. Not for the man, specifically, but for what he represented. She remembered all too well how rejection felt after the crash. How she’d always planned for marriage and children in the future, but had to kiss those plans good-bye.
* * *
“SO, I HEAR you’re going to the Bensons’ for Thanksgiving?” Ethan Hayes was one of Will’s best friends. A transplant in town, teaching was his second career—a dream he’d had since he was a kid. Once he finished making a killing in hedge funds, he went back to school to do what he wanted. He’d been at Holly Point High School for five years teaching math, so the only Benson he knew was Matt. “I would kill to be at the table with those women. I wonder if lightning bolts would come out of the sky if I had impure thoughts about any of the Marys.”
The Marys. It’s what people jokingly called Maggie, Claire, and Grace Benson. The three sisters were all named Mary—Mary Margaret, Mary Claire and Mary Grace. No doubt, the Irish-Catholic was strong in this family.
“You really are a douche. Have you considered growing up?”
“Are you kidding? Have you looked at them? If their dad didn’t have a gun, I’d have a run at one of them,” Ethan shot back.
Forget Jim, he figured Maggie could handle whatever came at her. And based on the glimpses of her personality he’d been privy to at the football game, he figured she was not to be messed with.
“How are we friends?” Will retorted. “You have the brain of an adolescent boy. Knock it off.”
Ethan shrugged and walked around the classroom. “There’s a lot of chatter about the older one, Maggie. She’s been to hell and back. Wow.”
That she had been, but Will didn’t want to talk about it. Somehow, it felt wrong, like an invasion of her privacy. Last year during basketball season, Matt had been completely distracted by his sister’s condition. The kid had confided in Will about the crash, and that his sister was in bad shape after a skin graft had gone bad.
Just knowing that made him feel protective of her. It also made him feel guilty. Maggie didn’t know he’d listened to Matt every day for weeks. She didn’t know how much he knew about her, her life, or her injuries. And she especially didn’t know how much her family was hurting when she cut them off. “I’m sure she’d love knowing she was the topic of gossip.”
“I’m just sayin’. But it’s not gossip. It’s all very complimentary.”
“Maybe so, but she almost died in service to her country. She shouldn’t be coming up in conversation.”
That shut Ethan up.
“Look, just show a little respect, okay?” Will was all too aware of what it felt like to be talked about. When he started teaching at Holly Point, the town knew who he was, knew his history, and knew about the injury that destroyed his basketball career. He was the topic of a lot of speculation and gossip, and he wasn’t going to do the same to Maggie.
She’d been very sweet and funny during the game, asking him a lot of questi
ons about himself, and getting the low down on her brother, who had grown up, literally and figuratively, while she’d been away. Maggie wanted to know everything—about Matt’s friends, his habits, how he got along with his teachers, and if he had a girlfriend.
Will chuckled, pitying the girl who would have to face the Marys.
But he really liked Maggie, and was looking forward to spending Thanksgiving with her family. It sounded like madness, with relatives driving in from all over Long Island, but he hadn’t had a big, crazy holiday in ages.
That he’d be able to get to know Maggie better was a bonus.
The first bell rang and just like every other school day, the kids filed in, but today the air was buzzing. Everyone was still hyped up from the big football win on Friday night, and Matt Benson was a bit of a celebrity.
Will could see, as soon as Matt walked in the classroom, that he wasn’t too comfortable with it. There were two girls trying to get his attention, a few of his teammates were trailing, chanting his name like the crowd did the other night at the game, and all through it Matt was alternating between elation from the win and embarrassment because this kid really was all about the team. A rarity.
Once everyone settled down, he walked past Matt and patted his shoulder. “If you need to talk, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks, Coach.” Matt looked back at his notebook. “Oh, Coach Fitz? Are you coming to my house for Thanksgiving?”
“Yeah. Your sister invited me. You okay with that?”
“Um, sure. No prob. I can’t believe Maggie asked.”
Will couldn’t either. He shrugged wondering what other little surprises Maggie would roll out.
* * *
SOME THINGS DIDN’T change, and the warm feeling that swamped Maggie when she pulled up in front of her old friend Sabrina Gervais Killen’s family home was one of them. She and Sabrina discovered each other in the beginning ballet class at Holly Point Dance Academy. Maggie was three and Bree was four, and the pair had been friends ever since. They’d gone in different directions, sometimes didn’t talk for months, but time or distance didn’t matter. When she needed a friend, she knew Bree would be there.
