Maggie's Way (Montana Bound Series Book 1)

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Maggie's Way (Montana Bound Series Book 1) Page 24

by Bradley, Linda


  “I feel like I should pay you something,” she said.

  “No, I told you I’d do it for free.”

  I didn’t want anything from Brook except a little time with her daughter to say goodbye. I thought back to Chloe swinging on the porch singing “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” by The Rolling Stones.

  John revved the Harley engine louder.

  “What did you do to him?” Brook asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I saw him come home and now he’s in that garage making a bunch of noise. I’m not sure why he has a motorcycle, if he’s not going to ride it. Stupid, if you ask me.”

  “Don’t know. I asked him about the sleepover and he thought I should ask you.” I kept my eyes on her, searching for clues. Something behind Brook’s eyes worked like my mother’s fingers when she was knitting.

  “You sure there wasn’t something else?” she asked.

  “Not that I can think of,” I said.

  Brook walked out of the library. “If you change your mind about being paid, let me know. I’ll get back to you about the sleepover.”

  Her slim hips swayed as she sauntered out the front door, her blond waves bouncing in time with her stride. This was going to be impossible.

  Chapter 33

  Shivers crept through me like cracking ice as I waited in the quiet radiation room. Bobbi made sure I was in position. She called out the coordinates to the new girl.

  “Your skin looks pretty raw,” she said.

  “Not too bad,” I replied, resisting the urge to look.

  She moved me around to make sure I was centered on the table. Wouldn’t want to accidentally radiate my heart.

  “Grab some more lotion before you leave. Remember, you meet with the doctor today,” she reminded me.

  “Got it,” I said.

  “Be right back, lay still.”

  Music played overhead. I watched the heavy, lead door slowly close in the reflection on the ceiling just like all the other days, and I’d kept my eyes glued to that spot to see it open back up again. The rubber band around my feet dug into my skin, but I wouldn’t complain if it meant beating cancer. With my arm over my head in the brace, the other arm tucked under my side and my feet bound, there wasn’t much to do but lay still and stare at the ceiling. The squeal of the machine rang out, the machine shifted position with a click, click, click, and I waited for the last radiating zap. The line of infrared light on the ceiling twitched. I counted the days in my head. I would be done in one week, which equaled five sessions, but then I remembered the extra week. Damn, ten sessions. That sounded shorter than two weeks, but I’d still have most of August to rest.

  Chloe would be gone in three days.

  The door opened, and I removed my arm from the brace.

  “Your arm getting sore from holding it over your head?” Bobbi asked.

  I wiggled back into my robe while she took the thick band off my feet. “No, not really.”

  “Here,” she said, holding out her arm to help me off the skinny hard table, “let me help you up.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair then twisted it, making a loose bun at the nape of my neck.

  “You know, you don’t have to take your hair down every time,” Bobbi said, handing me a sample-sized bottle of lotion as I fixed my gown.

  “I know.” I didn’t want to admit that I wanted my head flat against the table every time just to make sure I was in the right position, because I wasn’t coming back, and I didn’t want to be responsible for radiating some other vital part of my body. With all the poking, pictures, and Cat scans, I wasn’t going to mess with anything. “See you tomorrow,” I said. “And thanks for the lotion.”

  “Don’t forget to go see the doc,” she reminded me.

  Like I could forget.

  I unlocked my locker, grabbed my stuff, and made my way to the see Dr. Masterson. Her assistant, Pam caught me in the hallway.

  “Let’s get you weighed,” she said, unloading my arms.

  I avoided reading my weight as I stood on the scale.

  “Holding steady, that’s good.” She wrote my weight in my chart. “You’ve gained a pound, but you still weigh less than when we started. Stress will do that,” she said. “Let’s go, darlin’,” she sang with a smile.

  Pam showed me into our usual room.

  “We have to stop meeting like this,” I teased.

  “Soon enough, soon enough. I know you’re getting tired of coming here.” She scribbled some notes in my chart then examined my chest. “Looks sore. Nice scar. Doctor did a beautiful job on that.”

  I glanced down, assessing the green, glowing bruise left from the surgery. I wasn’t so sure it was beautiful. Maybe over time it would fade, maybe even be hidden at the edge of my areola, maybe even be invisible to someone else inspecting me, but I’d know it was there. “Yeah.”

  I just wanted to go home. I checked my phone. No messages.

  Dressed in her a basketball jersey, shorts and high-tops, Chloe waited for me on the porch steps. By the look on her face, things weren’t going well. Even the annoying ice-cream truck riding my bumper didn’t spark a smile. I wished the guy’s speaker would short out. Christmas tunes, depressing.

  “Hey,” I called as I came around from the garage.

  “Hey,” she said in a sulking tone.

  “You look pretty glum.”

  Chloe sighed. “Yeah.”

  “What gives?” I asked, not sure it was a good idea to ask. Obviously, if I hadn’t learned my lesson by now, I never would.

  She patted Voodoo’s head. “Good kitty.” She rubbed his ears with her thumbs as she cradled his face. “Where were you?”

  “Oh, so you’re going to play it that way, huh? And change the subject.” I leaned back on my elbows to catch a few rays of sun on my face. “Ah, that feels good.”

  “Wanna go to the beach?” she asked. “It sure would feel good to jump in the water.”

  My eyebrow shot up. “Who’s watching you?”

  “Funny thing, no one’s home,” she said.

  I perked up, opened my eyes, and bit the inside of my cheek. “What do you mean, ‘no one is home?’ Where’s your mom?”

  Chloe shrugged.

  “Is your dad off today?” I prodded.

  “Nope. He’s at work fixing sick kids. Mom was supposed to pick me up from basketball camp, but she didn’t show. I walked home.” Chloe lifted her bangs. “See the sweat. Man, it’s hot out here,” she huffed.

  “Feels good,” I said, basking in the sun.

  “Yeah, but you didn’t just walk a mile home after doing five million jumping jacks and one hundred layup shots.”

  “Guess not,” I conceded. I dug in my purse for my phone. No messages. I shot John a text thinking he might check his phone. Where’s Brook? Chloe walked home from basketball by herself. Brook isn’t home.

  “Who you texting?” Chloe asked, fanning herself. “You got my mom’s number?”

  “Yup,” I said with a snicker, “but I’m sending a message to your dad.” I stood up and stretched, my achy skin tightening across my chest. “Come on. Let’s go in and get a snack. Something cold for you.”

  “Can we go to the beach? I want to go to the beach,” she said, stretching her legs. “My feet are sweaty.”

  I unlocked the front door. “Let’s see if your dad sent me a message. Maybe your mom will show up.” I pushed the door open and Chloe followed me inside. “Come on, let’s see what we have in the fridge. When did Bella go home? I liked her.” I heard a clunk. I turned to see Chloe sitting on the floor peeling off her shoes and socks. I didn’t say anything about the pile she left in the middle of the floor. Bradley would be jealous. I could hear his voice in my head. Why does she get to leave a mess?

  My phone chimed. I read the text aloud to Chloe. Really swamped. Don’t know where Brook is. Maybe she just forgot. Can Chloe hang with you until she gets back?

  “Ask him if we can go t
o the beach. I know where the spare key is so I can get my stuff,” Chloe said, pawing through the fridge. “You got any ice cream?”

  “There should be some from the other night.”

  I replied to John’s text. Chloe can stay with me. She wants to know if we can go to the beach. If we do, how much trouble will I be in with Brook? I added a worried face.

  I helped Chloe scoop Rocky Road ice cream into a parlor dish then I drizzled chocolate sauce on top. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

  My phone chimed again. “Let’s see what your dad says.”

  Chloe put a heaping spoonful of ice cream in her mouth then smiled and rubbed her belly. She pretended to give Voodoo a bite.

  I read the text. Go ahead. Leave Brook a note. Chloe knows where the key is. Brook has your number. She’ll find you. There was a winking yellow face followed by a p.s. I’ll take the heat. I owe you. I smiled as the memory of his lips on mine rushed back.

  “What did he say?” Chloe asked around a mouthful, trying not to let her food escape her lips.

  “We have to leave a note for your mom at your house. When you’re done, we’ll get the key,” I replied, getting the crackers out.

  Chloe finished her ice cream, and I watched her scrape the bowl then lick the edges like a cat. “Done, let’s go,” she said.

  “Let me get my stuff.” I shoved a few crackers into my mouth and munched as I trotted upstairs to get my tunic to cover my arms and chest then I grabbed my sunhat and some towels. Halfway down the stairs I remembered the Claire Cook novel on my bedside stand. “I’ll be there in a second,” I called, heading back upstairs.

  The front door was wide open when I came back down to get Chloe. I went over to John’s house. She’d left the side door wide open and Voodoo was lying on the ground waiting like an obedient cat should. “Good cat, Voodoo,” I praised. I poked my head in and called Chloe’s name.

  Feeling like an intruder, I waited for Chloe to invite me in. The kitchen counter was littered with mail. “Chloe,” I called as I stepped inside. “Chloe.” Her silence worried me. I gave one last shout out. “Chloe!” I stepped into the kitchen, perused the magazine on the counter, and waited.

  Heavy thuds overhead redirected my attention. I left the narrow kitchen, padding softly toward the banging overtures, careful enough not to disturb anything, while my eyes wandered over framed pictures inspecting for hints about John, Brook, and Chloe’s lives.

  Chloe strolled by. “Hey, Maggie, what’s going on?”

  My instincts bristled with caution. “What do you mean, what’s going on?” She was in a green racing suit and flip-flops to match.

  “I’m almost ready,” she said. “I need a few things then I’ll be ready to go.”

  “What was all the racket?” I asked, searching her face for evidence.

  “Nothing,” she replied. “It wasn’t anything.” She forced a quick smile.

  “Do we need to clean anything up before we go?”

  “Nope. I was just getting my suit out of my duffle. It’s warm in California, all the time. Mom said to bring all my suits. Just unpacking a little to get this one.”

  “You must be taking a lot of stuff. Do you have a paper and a pen? We need to leave a note.”

  Chloe scooted around the corner. I heard a drawer open then scrape shut. I waited. She trotted back.

  “Here,” she said, shoving the pen and paper toward me.

  “Thanks.” I started to write in my best teacher handwriting. “Okay, I told your mom we’re going to the beach, that your dad knows, and we will return around five.” Chloe approved. She straightened her bathing suit straps as she slipped her feet into a different pair of yellow polka-dotted sandals. I signed my name. “Want to write anything?” I handed Chloe the pen. She drew a heart and wrote her name with some hugs and kisses. Then she put the pen down. The sparkle in her eye flashed. “Ready?”

  “Yup, let’s go! Maybe those boys will be there again to make sandcastles.”

  “Maybe. Want to bring Junie B?” I asked, holding up the book that was lying open on the counter next to an empty milk container. I picked it up and shook it to be sure. “Want to throw this away?”

  Chloe shrugged. “Sure.” She opened a door, dropped it in a trashcan on some rollers, and shut the cupboard. “Mom can thank me later.”

  “What?”

  “She leaves stuff out all the time. She’s not very neat. Drives Dad crazy. I heard him tell her once she wasn’t very responsible.”

  “Oh. Let’s go.”

  We locked the door and headed out.

  “Let’s get your camera and Bones,” Chloe said.

  I packed up the car and the three of us were off.

  Chapter 34

  Bones dug in the sand under the tree. I tied his leash to a bench carved up with lovers’ names and teenage graffiti. His collapsible bowl was deep in the beach bag under Chloe’s book and the towels. I tugged then yanked. Junie B. popped out of the bag. A piece of paper fell from between the pages. I hadn’t noticed it back at the house. I scanned the horizon, checking on Chloe, who had found the Mark Spitz boys from the other day. I unfolded the white paper.

  The wind carried Chloe’s laughter. I glanced up, wondering if she knew. I wondered if John knew. When things like this happened at school, it usually resulted in bouts of rash behavior, followed by melancholy faces boring sad holes through me.

  I patted Bones’ head then put the letter in my camera bag. “I’ll be right back with your dish.”

  He wagged his tail then gave a little woof. Grains of sand drifted through my toes as I padded toward the fountain. The earth warmed me. Water from the spigot sprayed across my feet as I filled the dog dish. The cold drops soothed the heartache brewing for Chloe. I lifted my skirt up to my thigh, let the water wash over my shins, then moved out of the way for a tall, tan skinny mom in a bikini wanting to wash off her toddler. I smiled, wondering how she kept her shape.

  Bones wagged his tail as I returned. I told him to sit just like the dog trainer taught us and he did. A wave of pride came over me and I wondered if anyone was watching. Maybe we would be okay after all. I’d just have to be consistent and patient. Chloe ran up, dug out her goggles, and ran back to the where the boys were splashing. There was a dark curly-haired woman sitting in a low lawn chair, under a red umbrella surrounded by buckets, shovels, and oversized plastic Tonka trucks. Chloe waved for me to come over. I got my camera and headed her way.

  The woman in the chair smiled at me.

  “Hi,” I said. “Those your boys?”

  “Yup. Harry and Walter.”

  A shiver ran down my spine. “Great names,” I said, taking the lens cap off the camera.

  “They’re named after their grandfathers. Harry’s the oldest,” she said with pride. “Chloe’s a riot.”

  “Oh, I see she’s introduced herself.” Chloe waded in the lake, bent at the waist, held her nose, and put her face in the water. Her hair skimmed the wet surface.

  “The boys are very fond of her. We should exchange numbers so they can have play dates.”

  “I’d love to, she would love to, but she’s not my daughter,” I said. The woman’s face expressed curiosity wondering what my connection really was with Chloe. “She lives next door to me. We are just hanging out today.”

  “Why don’t you sit? I’m Judith, but I prefer Judy,” the woman said, inviting me to join her in the empty chair under her umbrella. “It’s not wet, yet.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bones gnawing on a bone under the bench. “Thanks.” I lifted the camera to my eye, focused the lens, and snapped a picture of Chloe floating on her back with her eyes closed. I turned and held out my hand. “I’m Maggie.” The woman’s hand was soft and warm. “Walter was my dad’s name. Not very common nowadays with all the soap opera names floating around out there.” I snapped another picture.

  “Are you a photographer?” she asked. “I’m terrible at taking pictures, but a grea
t baker.”

  I smiled at her. “We should trade services. I’m not much of a baker. I don’t mind cooking, but my mom is the baker in the family. I did more when my son was little.”

  “How old is he now?” Judy asked, rubbing sunscreen on her shins.

  “Bradley is twenty-two,” I replied. “He’s in Boston working as an intern at a law firm. They want to hire him. He’s going to take the job.” I wanted him to be independent, but I just didn’t think it would come so soon.

  “Wow, that’s great. You don’t look old enough to have a son that’s twenty-two.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “Would you mind if I snapped some pictures of your boys?”

  “Go ahead.”

  Harry had Walter in a headlock. Both boys laughed. Chloe was digging in the wet sand over to the side.

  “If I give you my number or email, would you mind sending some pictures my way?” Judy asked.

  “Sure will. After all, they are your boys. I’m just an innocent bystander.”

  Chloe noticed me sitting there when she stood up to get another bucket of water. She gave me a little wave. Her smile minus one more tooth. She didn’t tell me another fang fell out. That’s what she liked to call them. I put the camera back up to my eye, zoomed in, and snapped another picture. Her belly protruded as she arched her back, round, perfect, like a youngster’s belly should. She ran over to me.

  “Do you two know each other?” she asked.

  Harry and Walter’s mom answered before I could, “We do now. Maggie is a very nice neighbor to bring you to the beach.”

  Chloe pushed damp strands of hair away from her face. “I know. She’s always there, even if I’m a pest sometimes.”

  I felt a small lump in my throat. Emotion built behind my eyes. I smiled at her. A film of wetness covered my eyes, knowing Brook had left without her.

  Chloe fixed the shoulder of my tunic. “You better cover up. You know what the doctor said. No sun.” She waggled her finger at me with a mocking grin then kissed me on the cheek, and ran back to her hole.

  I wiped at the corner of my eye under my sunglasses.

 

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