Dear Maggie

by Brenda Novak

  Dropping his head in his hands, he heard Maggie in her room getting into the bed they’d shared and he wanted to go and plead with her to reconsider. He wanted her to welcome him back into her arms and make love with him and say she’d be his wife. He wanted to sleep for the next twenty-four hours with her curved against him. But he knew she was in no shape to withstand an emotional onslaught. They’d both been through a great deal. What he needed to give her, more than anything, was time. Then, maybe…

  Slowly, he stood and went to Mrs. Gruber’s room to pack his things. When he finished zipping his suitcase, he walked slowly to the door, but something on the dresser caught his eye. It was the framed picture of Maggie he’d taken at the river. Pausing, he opened his luggage and slipped the photograph in with his things. He had the pictures she’d sent him, but they were taken before he’d come on the scene. This one meant more to him, and he wasn’t about to leave it behind, just in case it was the only thing he’d ever have to remember them by.

  MAGGIE?

  I haven’t heard from you in over a week. Are you all right? I’m worried about you.

  John

  Maggie sighed as she read John’s latest message on her computer at work. It was late, and she was nearly alone in the office, with only the crackle of her radios to keep her company. Her follow-up article on Dr. Dan was laminated and hung above her desk. It had run front and center in the Sunday Trib, the issue that had the widest circulation, and was her crowning achievement. Soon she’d be moving to days, thanks to a raise and a promotion from Ben in recognition of her work. But that was in September. Right now, in the middle of another hot August night, with Nick’s desk empty and cleaned out just down the corridor, she was feeling weaker than usual. She missed him, longed to talk to him, and knew it would be all too easy to fall for John on the rebound. Which was why she hadn’t written him since Nick had moved out. He was a good guy and deserved more than second-best.

  But it was a slow night, which made it that much more difficult to occupy her mind, and her fingers itched to return his message. John had been good to her. What could it possibly hurt to continue their relationship? To accept a little support? As long as she made it clear that she was only interested in friendship…

  John—

  I’m sorry I haven’t written. I haven’t been at my best and didn’t want—

  An instant message popped up on her screen.

  Mntnbiker: There you are. Where have you been? I’ve checked and checked and you’re never online anymore.

  Maggie sighed. So much for avoiding close contact.

  Zachman: I’ve been…

  What did she say? Heartbroken? Lovesick?

  …busy,

  she wrote at last, deciding to keep things as neutral as possible.

  Mntnbiker: You’ve had a lot going on in your life.

  Zachman: At least the FBI took care of Dr. Dan.

  Mntnbiker: That’s got to be a relief.

  It was a relief—except that Maggie had been happy then, despite Dr. Dan and his threats. She’d been with Nick, content and in love…But she wasn’t about to explain all of that.

  Zachman: Yeah.

  Mntnbiker: How are things with that roommate of yours?

  Zachman: Nick?

  As if she didn’t know who he was talking about!

  Mntnbiker: Do you have another roommate?

  Zachman: No. I don’t even have him anymore. He moved out.

  Mntnbiker: Are you glad?

  Glad? She’d give almost anything to have his arms around her again, if only he felt as strongly about her as she did him.

  Zachman: I think it’s for the best.

  Mntnbiker: That’s not really an answer.

  Zachman: What is it you want to hear?

  Mntnbiker: Don’t you care about him?

  Maggie wanted to tell John that it was all over between her and Nick, but she knew better.

  Zachman: I care about him.

  Mntnbiker: Does that mean you’re in love with him?

  Zachman: Are you trying to make me miserable?

  Mntnbiker: No.

  Zachman: Then let’s talk about something else.

  Mntnbiker: Just tell me if you love him.

  Zachman: I do, all right? I want to have his children, wash his clothes, cook his meals. Am I sick, or what?

  There was a long pause.

  Mntnbiker: That’s the most incredible thing I ever heard.

  Evidently John didn’t care about her any more than Nick did.

  Mntnbiker: What if he loves you back? Would you marry him?

  Zachman: I don’t want to talk about this. It doesn’t matter, anyway. I have to think about what’s best for my son. I can’t get involved with someone who works for the FBI, lives halfway across the country and is always away on dangerous assignments.

  Mntnbiker: What if he took a desk job?

  Zachman: He’s not the type.

  Mntnbiker: How do you know? Maybe he’s ready to settle down. Maybe he’s finally found the right woman and the right boy and the right town.

  Zachman: And maybe he hasn’t. Listen, I’ve got a dispatcher sending out a call for officers. A 7-Eleven just got robbed. I’ve got to go.

  Maggie, wait—

  Maggie didn’t hesitate. She signed off the Internet, grabbed her briefcase and headed out.

  A DOZEN RED ROSES arrived the following day, and the day after, and the day after that. By the following Sunday, Maggie’s house was beginning to look like a florist’s shop, but as yet, no one had claimed credit for sending them. Each new batch arrived with a card that said simply, “I love you.”

  “Do you think they’re from Nick?” Darla asked, closing the door as the flower deliveryman left.

  Maggie frowned at her fifth batch of roses. “No. They didn’t start coming until after John wrote me the last time. They must be from him, although Mrs. Gruber insists they’re from our ‘nice’ garbageman.”

  Darla chuckled. “She’s something else. She was a trooper through everything that happened with Dr. Dan.”

  “I don’t know what I would’ve done without her. She supported me every step of the way and she’s helped me so much with Zach.”

  “I’ll bet she’s relieved it’s all over.”

  Maggie grinned. “Just don’t come up on her from behind. She still keeps a frying pan handy, just in case she has to knock someone silly.”

  “I hope I have that much spirit when I’m her age.”

  “Me, too,” Maggie said, leading the way into the kitchen.

  Darla paused at the table while Maggie searched her cupboards for something to put the flowers in. “So what do you think?” she asked.

  “About what?”

  “About who’s sending the roses. Maybe now that Nick’s gone, John sees this as his chance to get his foot in the door. Have you asked him?”

  Fresh out of vases, Maggie filled a quart jar with water and began to arrange the flowers. “I’ve written him a couple of times, but he hasn’t responded.”

  “Then maybe it is Nick.”

  “No. I haven’t heard from Nick since he left. And why would he, all of a sudden, start sending me flowers?”

  “Mommy, where’s Nick?” Zach demanded, hearing his name and glancing up from his place on the floor in front of a Disney movie. She and Darla moved into the living room and placed the flowers on the coffee table. “He had to go away,” she told him, sorry she’d mentioned Nick in his presence.

  “But when’s he coming home?”

  Maggie didn’t have the heart to tell her son that Nick probably wasn’t ever coming back. Zach had asked for Nick every day since he’d moved out and frequently begged her to let him call. “He lives far away from us now,” she said.

  “But when’s he coming back?”

  Zach didn’t understand that things were better for them this way. When Maggie opened her mouth to explain that sometimes people have to leave, Darla answered for her.

  “Soon, if
these flowers are from him,” she said.

  Maggie gave her a look that told her not to get Zach’s hopes up as she opened the card that had come with the flowers. She expected the same three words she’d received so far, only today there were four—Will you marry me?

  She stared down at the card in surprise.

  “What does it say?” Darla asked.

  “I can’t believe this,” Maggie said, showing her.

  “He wants to marry you?” Darla’s eyebrows shot almost up to her hairline. “Oh, boy! It’s gotta be Nick.”

  “There’s still no signature.” Maggie shook her head. “But it can’t be Nick. He hasn’t even tried to call me.”

  “Well, it’s only been a couple of weeks.”

  A couple of weeks that felt like forever. At least she and her mother were speaking again. Maggie had called her shortly after Nick’s departure. She hadn’t said anything about what had happened with Dr. Dan—it seemed pointless to frighten her mother now that it was all over—but she’d tried to explain that she was a responsible adult and Rosalyn needed to respect her choices. She wasn’t sure very much had changed, though. Her mother’s attitude hadn’t improved until she told her that Nick was history. Then Rosalyn had asked if Maggie was going to call Brian Wordelly, which led to a whole discussion about Maggie taking care of her own love life. In the end, it hadn’t gone as well as Maggie had hoped. But at least they were on speaking terms again. And Rosalyn had promised not to set her up with anyone else.

  “If Nick cared about me, he would have been in touch by now,” she told Darla. “He’s probably on his next assignment and has forgotten all about me.”

  “I don’t know,” Darla mused, still staring at the card as though she could decipher the riddle. “Reese let me sweat this last break-up for over a month.”

  Maggie nearly dropped the coffee she’d started pouring for herself. “Reese is back?”

  Darla gave her a devilish smile. “He showed up last night to say he’s working at Sam’s Club. That’s where he is now, until four o’clock.” She held up both hands, fingers crossed. “Let’s hope it holds.”

  “You’re a slave to your heart,” Maggie told her, but she knew the same held true for her. If Nick ever walked back through her door, she doubted she’d have the strength to tell him to leave a second time.

  “Reese and I have our problems, but we love each other. We’re going to see if we can work things out.”

  Impulsively, Maggie hugged her. “I’m happy for you, Darla. I love you.”

  Darla returned her squeeze. “I love you too, Mags. Now let’s get online and see if we can coerce John into telling us whether or not he’s the one sending the flowers.”

  Maggie settled herself at the computer while Darla lounged on a corner of her bed. The usual sequence of tones sounded as Maggie’s modem connected. She hadn’t received a message from John for almost six days, but there was one in her mailbox now. The caption read, “So what’s your answer?”

  Her answer? That couldn’t mean what she thought it meant…“Oh, no,” she said as she read his message, “they are from John. What am I going to do?”

  Darla leaned over her shoulder and read the message aloud.

  Dear Maggie—

  How do you like the flowers? Have I convinced you to marry me yet? You’d better say yes, or they’ll keep arriving, every day until I get the answer I want. I love you. Will you be my wife? There may be some things I can’t tell you, but I promise I’ll never lie to you again.

  There was no signature.

  Maggie blinked at the message. John loved her? John wanted her to marry him without ever meeting? This was crazy. She’d just told him she was in love with Nick. How did he expect her to respond to this? And what did he mean by promising never to lie to her again? What had he lied about so far?

  “He’s nuts,” Darla said. “And I introduced you to him. Tell me he doesn’t have your address—”

  “Wait. There’s an attachment, a .jpg file.”

  “A .jpg file is usually a picture.”

  “I know.” Had John finally broken down and sent her a photo of himself? Maggie clicked on the download and waited nervously for the image, then couldn’t believe what filled her screen. It was a photograph of Zach, the one Nick had taken the morning they were playing basketball. How had John gotten hold of that?

  “Look,” Darla said, pointing to the caption at the bottom of the screen.

  Can we be a family, Maggie? We love you, and we love each other—Jonathon Nicholas Sorenson and Zachary Taylor Russell (hopefully soon to be Zachary Taylor Sorenson).

  Jonathan Nicholas Sorenson! Nick? Nick was John?

  It had to be true. How else could John have the picture Nick had taken?

  Darla seemed to arrive at the same conclusion, only a second after Maggie. With a scream, she grabbed Maggie, but anger, confusion, hurt, and hope converged on Maggie all at once. Hadn’t Nick told her enough lies? Was John just another avenue he’d used to get close to her? How had he managed it?

  Maggie remembered all the questions John had asked her about Dr. Dan and Lola Fillmore and her contact at the Independent. She remembered the mysterious call to Atkinson’s house and how well “John” had taken the news when she’d told him about her relationship with Nick. She’d thought he’d been kind about it because he was such a nice guy. Now she knew he’d only been giving her up to himself!

  Of all the dirty, rotten—

  “What’s wrong?” Darla demanded. “Nick loves you. He wants to marry you. Why aren’t you jumping up and down?”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Maggie told her helplessly. “How could he lie to me like this? How could he make love to me knowing—”

  Darla grabbed her by the shoulder and gently shook her. “Maggie, don’t. You love him and you know it. Here’s your chance. Forgive him, and wipe the slate clean. He’s an FBI agent, and he was doing his job. Chalk it up to that.”

  Before Maggie had a chance to answer, an instant message appeared on her screen.

  Mntnbiker: What do you say, Maggie? I’m going crazy without you. Do you still love me? Can you forgive me?

  Maggie stared at the words. How did she fit all the pieces together? How could she attribute the right motives to Nick’s actions?

  Zachman: Nick?

  Mntnbiker: Yes.

  Zachman: You lied to me again.

  Mntnbiker: I did it for the investigation, Maggie. I did it to save lives. Surely you believe that.

  Maggie couldn’t deny that she was grateful for the way Nick had looked after her. She was proud of him, too, for finally getting Dr. Dan off the streets. Clearly he was a good agent. But after they’d become close, he should have trusted her enough to tell her who he really was—shouldn’t he? If he didn’t trust her, how could she ever learn to trust him?

  Zachman: You could have told me at some point. You could have trusted me.

  Mntnbiker: I couldn’t tell you, Maggie. I can’t tell anyone certain things regarding my job. But that doesn’t mean I don’t trust you. As a matter of fact, I’m trusting you with something that frightens me a lot more than the details of a murder investigation.

  Maggie held her breath, waiting for him to tell her what he was trusting her with, but he didn’t volunteer the information. Finally she couldn’t wait any longer.

  Zachman: What’s that?

  Mntnbiker: My heart. Is it enough?

  Finally Maggie felt a smile come from somewhere deep inside her and couldn’t stop it from bursting across her face.

  Tears filling her eyes, Darla put an arm around her and squeezed hard. “Go for it, Mags,” she said, and Maggie laughed. She was going to marry Nick.

  Zachman: Your love is all I’ve ever wanted. Come home so I can show you how much.

  EPILOGUE

  “HOW’S OUR BABY TODAY?” Nick asked, sliding a protective hand over Maggie’s rounded middle and curving his body around hers in the bed. He’d always found Maggie attracti
ve, but now that she was pregnant with his child, he thought her more beautiful than ever, and he couldn’t keep his hands off her.

  “Your baby kept me awake most of the night, kicking and squirming,” she complained, but a sleepy smile told him she wasn’t upset.

  He kissed her forehead. “I think I should make that up to you, since I slept like a rock.”

  She raised her finely arched brows. “How are you going to do that? Let me sleep all day?”

  “I’m going to take you to Carmel-By-The-Sea. You can sleep on the drive. I want to take some shots of you and Zach on the beach.”

  “You’ve already taken a ton of pictures of us on the beach,” she said.

  Nick hadn’t forgotten. He and Maggie had gone to Mexico for their honeymoon, but Darla and Mrs. Gruber had taken turns keeping Zach, so he wasn’t with them. And Maggie wasn’t pregnant then. Nick wanted to get her walking along the seashore, the swell of his baby evident beneath her sundress, their son playing in the background. It was the only way he could improve on his initial vision for the cover of his book.

  “I like taking pictures,” he told her, sliding his lips up the soft skin on the inside of her arm. She tasted so good, smelled so good…“It’s my hobby.”

  “When are you going to start doing it professionally?” she asked.

  He shrugged. Photography was a nice dream, but he was still enjoying the bureau too much to make the switch. When he’d moved to the Sacramento office, he’d wondered if he’d miss traveling, but he didn’t. He couldn’t wait to get home to Maggie at the end of each day and had no desire to leave her or Zach, even for one night. “I’m not in any hurry to make a career change.”