"Why didn't you tell me my dad was sick? Or sober, for that matter?"
She let out a long sigh. "To be honest, I didn't believe he'd stay sober. He'd tried before. I didn't want to pull you back in to his mess, only to have you get hurt again."
"But then he was dying."
"Something I didn't know about until the very end. And at that point, it was a dying man's wish. I didn't trust your father to go without causing more trouble." She stopped and looked away. "I was wrong, though. You deserved to know. I’m sorry for that."
Maggie wrapped a reassuring arm around Mama's shoulders, and neither spoke for a few long moments.
"I talked to Elijah this morning," Mama said.
Maggie made a sound in the back of her throat, but didn't speak.
"He's worried about you," she continued. "Jason's fiancée told him you were here. He was about to jump in his car and come, but I convinced him to let you come to him."
"Thank you," Maggie whispered and then looked up suddenly. "Did you say Jason's fiancée?"
"Yes, he mentioned her this morning."
Maggie jumped to her feet and wiped the dirt from her shorts. She held a hand down to help Mama up, and then both headed in to the house.
Jason was sitting at the kitchen table, an omelet in front of him.
"You were right," he said when she walked in, grinning through a mouthful of egg. "She is an amazing cook."
"You and Michaela are engaged and you failed to tell me?" she asked.
He dropped his fork to his plate and swallowed the mouthful of food before nodding slowly and then wincing in anticipation of whatever she was going to yell at him.
But she didn't want to yell. She sat next to him and looked him in the eye before speaking softly. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"It was just that ..." he paused, at a loss.
"Because of what I said to you before?" she finished for him. "About marriage being a mistake?"
"Kind of." He shrugged. "I proposed right before I read the letter. Then we didn't speak for a while and, by the time we did, I didn't want to add anything more to your plate right now. Your head’s so full of other stuff."
"Jason, it's never too full for you." She took his hand. "I'm happy for you. You know I love Michaela. I just wish you felt like you could tell me."
"I'm sorry."
"No, I am." She reached forward and pulled him into a hug. "I love you, Cuzzy."
"Love you too, Mags."
###
An afternoon rain had started by the time Maggie got up the courage to do what she came to Boston to do. This was about closure.
She huddled closer to Jason under the umbrella, gravel shifting below her feet, as they continued down the path from the car. The place was quiet except for the sound of raindrops hitting stone and their boots crunching along.
They passed row after row of gravestones marking a family’s sadness before arriving at the right one. Mama Lugo had given them directions, but let them do this on their own. Maggie was just glad she had Jason to lend her strength. Not for the first time, she wished Elijah was here with her. He’d been there for everything else having to do with her father. It would’ve been fitting for him to be there when it all came to an end.
She needed him so fiercely that it hurt. But Jason was there, and she had to do it while she had the will.
Scanning the names carved into the simple flat stones, Maggie came to a stop. There it was.
Frank Henry Marks.
Jason's arm tightened around her, but she barely took notice. Despite being next to her cousin, one of the people she loved most in this world, she felt alone in that moment. She stepped away from Jason, closer to the gravestone, barely registering the rain that was now soaking through her shirt. She held a hand up to ask Jason for a moment. He offered her the umbrella, but she just shook her head, her quickly dampening locks swinging from side to side.
Turning back to the grave, she finally spoke. "Coward." The word came out choked, so she straightened her shoulders and cleared her throat. "Yeah, I'm talking about you, Dad. You were a coward. I deserved to know. I deserved the chance to say goodbye. See, Dad, you were wrong. I came for you. Didn't you know anything about me? Didn't you know that I would’ve been there?" Her shoulders shook as she held in a sob. "You didn't. Because you didn't care."
She stopped speaking and looked towards the sky, letting the rain wash over her face. After a few long moments, she brought her gaze back to the stone. "Bastard," she whispered. Her legs grew weak beneath her and, before she knew it, she found herself kneeling, her knees sinking into the soaking sod. "I hate you. You know that? I really hate you."
She dug her fingers into the ground at her sides, pulling up grass and mud alike. Her shoulders hunched forward and she let out a strangled cry. "I love you. You were a filthy drunk and a horrible father and I love you. If you’d let me come, you wouldn't have been so alone. That's why I came. I needed to tell you that I'm not like you. I show up for the ones I love." She gestured around as if he could see her making her point.
"And Dad, I'm not alone." She leaned forward as if to share a secret with him. "I never have been. Even when I lived in your wretched house, I was loved."
As if suddenly realizing it was raining, she shivered and started to cry. "I'm not coming again," she said. "This is it for us, Dad. Thank you for the letter." It wasn't until that moment that she realized what his letter had done for her. It brought her here. It brought her to a finale. It gave her a small glimpse into the father she could’ve had. Suddenly, it felt okay to love him. Okay to grieve.
And that's what she did. She knelt there in the pouring rain, crying for a father she didn't have to hate. A father she never knew, but a father who had never treated her poorly. Who’d never thrown beer bottles at her or saddled her with an abusive stepmother. A man she’d never had to blackmail or run from. A man who didn't scare her. No, she could cry for the father who existed only in that letter. The one who gave her advice and told her he loved her.
Strong arms wrapped around her and she let herself cry onto a shoulder she knew all too well.
"What are you doing here?" Jason asked, walking up behind them, his tone not altogether friendly.
"Mama Lugo told me she was here," Jake responded.
Maggie disengaged from his arms at the sound of his voice.
"Jake," she whispered.
"I'm here, Mags," he said, looking over her shoulder at Jason. "Let’s get you in out of the rain."
She nodded and he helped her to her feet. Jason was quick to step in and pull her under the umbrella with him.
"I'll meet you guys back at the Lugo's," Jake said when they reached the cars.
Maggie didn't speak the entire drive back. It was done. She’d come for him. But she wouldn't feel better until she was back in New York. Back with Elijah. The more she was away from him, the less she felt like herself.
Mama was on her as soon as they walked in the door. "You're soaked!"
"It's raining." Maggie tried to shrug off the concern. She just hoped her eyes weren't puffy from crying.
"Get yourself upstairs and into some dry clothes," Mama ordered. "I'll make some tea." She turned as the front door swung open again. "Jake!"
"Hi, Mama." Jake gave her a kiss on the cheek, but she declined his wet hug.
"Elijah has some old clothes upstairs. Go get dry."
"Yes, Ma'am." He saluted with a grin and followed Maggie upstairs.
After she’d changed, Maggie passed the door to Elijah's room and heard Jake still inside. Looking towards the stairs and then back to the door, she decided to knock.
Jake answered as he pulled a shirt down over his torso. With one of his patented Jake grins, he gestured for her to come in.
"Why are you here, Jake?" she asked as she took in the familiar room.
"I was at a church event with Mama Lugo when you called last night, so I knew you were coming."
"Church? You?" She raised an eyebrow
and he laughed softly.
"I've changed."
"Obviously, but why did you come today?"
"When Mama told me where you’d gone, I thought you'd need someone there." He looked away. "Was I wrong?"
"No," she said honestly, surprising herself. It was true. Jake was the only person beside Elijah who got it. He was there, by her side, her entire childhood with that man. She wanted to say thank you, but the words wouldn't cross her lips. The look he gave her told her she didn't need to speak them.
A picture on the dresser caught her eye, and she walked towards it.
It was of the three of them - Maggie, Elijah, and Jake - in Elijah's backyard, under the willow tree. They were teenagers. She was in between them, with an arm flung over each of their shoulders. Wide smiles brightened all three faces.
"Seems like another lifetime, doesn't it?"
She’d almost forgotten Jake was there and his voice made her jump.
"Yeah," she responded softly. "We were so happy in this picture."
"That's what you think," he laughed, and his words caught her off guard.
She thought harder about that day. "I don't remember when this was taken."
"I do," he scratched his face where the stubble covered the hard lines of his jaw. "You had just talked Elijah down from trying to confront your father."
It started coming back to her. "My scar. This was that day." She brought a hand to her mouth as images flashed through her mind. "He’d thrown a bottle at me and it broke."
"If you look closer," Jake paused, leaning down, "Our smiles are forced." He let out a sudden laugh. "You know what I just remembered?"
She waited for him to go on.
"Elijah and I had gotten into an argument that morning, before the stuff with your dad. One of our many fights about how I wasn't treating you well enough."
"But you treated me fine back then."
"Not good enough for Elijah." Jake stepped back and ran a hand over his hair with a sigh. "That was the day I knew he was in love with you."
She just stared at him.
"Tell me something," he asked, turning nervous. "Were you in love with him the entire time we were married?"
"Honestly, I don’t think so. I promise you, I wasn't wishing I was with him instead of you. Our marriage was real. Elijah isn't the reason it didn't work out."
"I know." He let out a breath. "It was never supposed to be us, though. I guess I've always known you were meant to be with him."
Maggie reached up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek, lingering just long enough to give his arm a squeeze before walking past him and down the stairs.
Nineteen
"Why do we drink again?" Michaela groaned, sinking into the chair across from Elijah and leaning back.
"We like to torture ourselves, I guess." He sat up, trying to ignore the throbbing pain behind his right eye. "What time is it?"
"Almost noon." She massaged her temples and looked at him. "Thank God I don't have anything to do today."
"Yeah, I’m definitely not going to work on the house when I feel like this. I can afford to take a day off."
"Damn right you can." She smiled, but it didn't last.
They’d stayed at the bar late, celebrating Michaela’s engagement. Elijah didn’t want to drive so he crashed on Michaela’s couch, since it was within walking distance.
The only reason Chris wasn't there to share in their misery was because his boyfriend had picked his drunk ass up at two in the morning.
"I need food," Elijah said as his stomach grumbled in agreement.
"We have cereal."
"That isn't food, Michaela." He leveled her with a stern glare.
She shrugged. "Growing up, Chris and I always had cooks."
He snorted as she made that statement sound like the most normal thing in the world. Of course they had cooks. They came from a wealthy Connecticut family.
"It's a good thing Jason's a great cook," he said. "And I wasn't asking you to cook. Let's go grab a burrito or something."
"Mmmmm," she said. "Hangover food."
"Exactly."
Before anything else could be said, Michaela's phone rang in her bedroom, and she ran to grab it. When she returned, she had it pressed to her ear and was listening intently.
"Oh my God," she said. "Yes, yes, I understand." She glanced up at Elijah. "Don't let them take her yet. I'll be there as soon as I can."
She ended the call and stared at him with clouded eyes.
"Kimberly's grandmother just died." She opened her mouth to say something else and then closed it.
Headache forgotten, Elijah sat straight up. No, no, no, he thought. Maggie isn't here.
"Was that the hospital?" he asked.
"No." She looked down at the phone in her hand. "It was my boss, Melissa. She was there when it happened."
Michaela looked a little lost, and Elijah didn't know what to say.
"Do you mind dropping me at the hospital?" she asked.
"I'm coming with you." He pushed himself up from the couch. "I care about the kid too."
Elijah freshened himself up in the bathroom, using his finger to brush his teeth. It was the best he could do. Running a hand through his wild hair, he looked himself in the mirror.
This is the day you have to decide.
It came sooner than he was expecting. He’d been hoping Maggie would be here to make the decision for him. His palms were sweaty, loosening his grip on the porcelain sink.
What are you made of, Kid?
He bent over the sink and cupped his hands under the flow from the faucet. Water trickled in between his fingers. He splashed his face a couple of times before finally turning off the water and drying himself with a towel. Parts of his hair were damp, but it was the only way it would lay flat.
"You ready in there?" Michaela called.
"As I'll ever be," Elijah shot back.
###
Elijah tried to call Maggie over and over as they drove to the hospital, but she didn’t answer.
Michaela's boss, Melissa, met them by the nurse’s station. Next to her was a short woman whose sad eyes broke through her business like demeanor.
"Michaela," Melissa said, "You know Bethany Iten."
"Sure." Michaela shook the woman's hand and then motioned to Elijah. "This is Elijah."
He nodded before Michaela went on.
"Bethany is Kimberly's social worker."
Elijah straightened his shoulders and held his hand out to the small woman. She took it, her grip surprisingly strong.
"This is the worst part of my job," she said, releasing him. "You’ve all done right by her over the past couple of months, but now the state has to take care of her."
"So, what’s going to happen?" Michaela asked.
"I'll take her to a group home until we can find her a foster family." Bethany looked at each of them in turn. "It might not seem like it, but she’ll be okay."
Elijah didn't hear anything else as he thought about the hollowness of those words. He didn't know much of Jason's time in the foster system, but he knew enough to know that Kimberly didn't deserve that.
He’d made up his mind. He'd fight so she never had to go through it.
Without another word, he broke away from the three ladies, and they let him go. His steps echoed off the tile floor. Mixed with the pounding of his pulse in his ears, that was all he heard.
When he saw her, his heart squeezed, and he had to force out a breath. Kimberly sat in the waiting room, her legs dangling off the chair. Her long, black hair was pulled back, away from her face, but parts had broken free and now clung to the tears on her face. The food on the table beside her sat untouched.
She looked up when he got close, her eyes red and puffy.
"Jah," she whispered.
"Hey Kimmy." He sat next to her and offered her a sad smile.
Another sob escaped her lips and she suddenly crawled into his lap.
"Gram is gone," she cried.
"I know, sweetie."
Kimberly was at an age where she was old enough to understand her grandmother was dead, but unable to see further than that. She wasn't thinking about the possibility of foster care or group homes. She probably didn't even know what any of that meant.
But Elijah was thinking about it.
"Where's Maggie?" Kimberly asked through her sobs. "I want Maggie."
"You and me both, Kid," he answered softly. "I'll bet she wishes she was here, but she isn't in New York right now."
She curled into herself further, and Elijah rocked her back and forth.
He looked up as Michaela approached. A tear fell from her eye when she looked at Kimberly. The young girl looked up, but didn't move to get out of Elijah's lap.
"Hi, honey." Michaela sat next to them and rubbed circles on Kimberly's back. "We're here for you."
Nothing else was said before Elijah felt Kimberly's breathe evening out as her body went slack in his arms and she drifted into sleep.
"You're good with her," Michaela whispered.
Elijah grunted. "She's not going to a group home."
"Elijah," Michaela started as she brushed a few strands of hair out of Kimberly's face. "We don't really control that. I've worked on a few cases like this, and adoption is a long shot."
"What if I already know someone who wants to adopt her?" He looked at her, his desperation written plain on his face.
Michaela laid a hand on his arm and spoke with the soft voice one would use with an unreasonable child. "I don't think you're in any place to adopt a child. It's a wonderful thought, but you work non-stop when you're in the middle of a flip and even harder when you're not. Do you even want to be a father?"
"I wasn’t talking about me."
Her eyes widened in realization and she met his gaze. "Don't you get my hopes up unless you're sure."
"Mic, the only thing she’s wanted since she was twenty years old is a kid."
"Has she said she wants this?"
"No." He paused, considering his next words. "I can’t get hold of her, but I know her." At least he hoped he did. He’d been wrong about a lot of things lately, but he didn't think he was this time. "I don't want her to get back and find Kimberly in some group home."
Promises (New Beginnings Book 2) Page 14
