“You heard the man. I’m anemic from the chemo. I’ll take the iron pills or whatever and I’ll be fine. This place gives me the heebie jeebies.”
“You are so hard-headed.”
“Yeah, and I have the stitches to prove it,” Michael laughed dryly.
Chapter 26
Michael’s ‘against medical advice’ release from the hospital took a couple of hours by the time the doctor performed one final examination and all the paperwork was completed. They were given a stack of information that Maggie read on the cab ride back to Michael’s apartment.
“This settles it,” she said waving the pamphlets at him. “Tomorrow I’m shopping for organic everything for you. It’s so much healthier. I’ll put together meals to keep in the freezer and you can pull them out one at a time and microwave them.” Thank God tomorrow’s Saturday.
“You really don’t have to do all that, Mags,” Michael said. “I know it’s a lot. I’m feeling stronger. Maybe you can come by every couple of days instead of every day. At least until I get my next round of chemo.”
Maggie shook her head. “We’ll see,” she said.
They rode in silence for a few blocks. Michael looked grimly thoughtful. “Do you think this is my punishment?”
She craned around to look at him. “Your punishment?”
He shrugged. “You know, for being such an asshole.”
“The cancer is a punishment?” Maggie saw raw desperation in his eyes. She shook her head derisively. “Don’t be ridiculous, Michael. People get sick all the time. It’s not some sort of cosmic consequence.”
Michael gazed out the window of the cab, his expression saying that he was not convinced.
Back home, he unlocked his door and they went inside. Maggie headed to the kitchen to pull together some dinner for Michael and to make a grocery list for the following day. He sank onto the couch and switched on the television. “Hey, Mags?” he called to her.
“Yeah?” she answered distractedly.
Michael could hear the refrigerator open and close, then the beep of the buttons on the microwave. “What do you think about Beau?”
“Hmmm? What do I think about Bobby? I think he’s a nice guy who saved your bacon today,” she said. “Michael, if I bought you organic yogurt would you eat it?”
“What? No, I hate that shit!” he said. “So about Beau...”
“What about him?” she asked as she brought him a glass of Gatorade. “Drink this and I’ll get you some coffee to go with your leftover chicken and rice.”
“Would you go out with him?” Michael asked.
Maggie paused, halfway back into the kitchen. “No. No, I wouldn’t.”
He frowned. “Why not? He’s a nice guy, like you said. And nice looking. Hell, I’d go out with him,” Michael laughed.
“I need that kind of complication like I need a hole in the head,” she said, returning to the kitchen, the better to get away from this conversation.
“Why would it be a complication?” he puzzled. “Going out is fun.”
Maggie stepped out of the kitchen and leaned against the doorway. “I have too much going on right now. Work is...killer, seriously,” she said. “And then by the time I check in on you, make sure you’re alright and have what you need...”
His eyes flashed angrily. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t make me an excuse.”
“I’m not having this conversation with you, Michael,” she said firmly, returning to the kitchen to take the chicken and rice out of the microwave. A minute later she carried a tray with his dinner and coffee into the living room and placed it on the low table in front of him.
“What happened with that guy, the one you were engaged to?” he asked quietly.
Maggie looked at him sharply. “Yet another conversation we’re not having.”
Michael watched her for a moment as she stared at him icily. Finally he shrugged and picked up the remote, turning up the volume on the sports program. He took a bite. “This is good, Mags. Thanks.” He looked a little sheepish. “I think I might have forgotten to eat today.”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “Oh for God’s sake, Michael!” She was heading back to the kitchen when she realized a voice on television sounded familiar. Her eyes widened as she slowly turned around.
Oh, no, this is not happening, she thought as she walked up the huge screen mounted on the wall. “That’s not...” She looked at Michael who was trying to look innocent and failing miserably. “Is that Bobby?” She gaped at the image on the television and pointed at the screen. “This is his new job?”
“Mm-hmm, yep, this is the job that brought him to New York,” Michael said casually.
Maggie was afraid to ask the next question. “And what was his old job?” she asked quietly.
“He was a pitcher for the Texas Rangers.”
She grabbed her head with her hands as she jumped around in a stomping little circle. “No, no, no, no, like this day did not suck balls enough already!”
Michael suppressed a smile. “Something wrong, Mags?”
“And you knew this? You knew that he was a professional baseball player? Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded.
He was all wide-eyed innocence. “I thought you knew.” Michael ducked to avoid the shoe she took off and threw at him. “Hey, is that any way to treat the dying?” he laughed.
“Oh, you’re going to wish you were dying!” She retrieved her shoe, sinking onto the couch beside Michael. “I said the dumbass-est stuff to him today.”
“It can’t be that bad,” he said.
“You have no idea,” she said. “Maybe he’ll be around tomorrow when I bring your groceries. I need to make a huge apology.”
Maggie left half an hour later. Michael settled in to watch the special report on spring training. Beau said he’d stop by after work. I hope he does. He thought about Maggie, her excuses for not wanting to go out with Beau, and he felt a sense of determination.
His thoughts floated back to something she’d told him that day she left Murphy, Rannigan. “I feel...dirty, like I need redemption. I have to do something different, something good.”
He nodded firmly to himself. I need to make this happen.
* * *
Michael woke with a start. He’d dozed off in front of the television. The soft knock came again. Stretching, he limped to the door.
“Hey, Michael,” Bobby said. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to check on you. How are you feeling?”
“Glad to be home,” Michael said. “Come on in.” He turned and walked back into the living room, leaving Bobby to close the door. As Bobby came in, Michael watched him glancing around.
“Mags took off a few hours ago,” Michael said.
Bobby met his eyes. “Oh, well, I know it’s late.”
“I figure you for a man who appreciates a good bourbon,” Michael told him, crossing over to the bar.
“I’ve been known to imbibe on occasion,” Bobby replied, grinning good-naturedly. He watched as Michael poured a couple of fingers of the rich dark amber liquid into two glasses. “Should you be doing that?”
“I’m dying,” Michael shrugged as he handed a glass to Bobby. “I’ll do what I like.”
Bobby looked over at him, stricken. Michael rolled his eyes. “Well, I’m not dying tonight,” he said. “Unless Mags finds out. Then my ass is grass.” They both laughed.
Michael returned to his place on the couch. Bobby chose a stool at the bar. “Yeah, she’s quite a force, isn’t she?” Bobby said casually.
Michael sipped appreciatively. “Yes, she is.” He let those words hang in the air. Michael looked at the other man thoughtfully. “You should ask her out.”
Bobby shrugged as he swirled his glass. “I don’t know, man. I don’t think she likes me.”
Michael watched him steadily. “Oh, she does.” He sipped before he spoke again. “She looks at you the way she used to look at me.”
Bobby felt his heart pound and he waited for Michael to say more. “I’m a dick. I always have been. Maggie had a crush on me from the moment we met. I knew but I ignored it. I mean, you’ve seen the women I go out with. Used to go out with, anyway.”
He frowned into his glass. “Truth is, I like Maggie a lot. She’s smart and funny and strong. She’s the best friend I’ve ever had. That’s the God’s honest truth right there.”
He looked back at Bobby. “Some years ago we had a night...suffice it to say, there was way too much bourbon involved, it was a really bad idea. Like I said, I’m a jerk. Nothing was ever the same after that,” Michael said sadly. “Next thing I knew, she left the firm and we weren’t really speaking.”
“But when you got sick, she dropped everything,” Bobby observed quietly.
Michael nodded. “That’s Mags. When nobody else would give me the time of day, she was there for me. Don’t think for a minute that I take that for granted.”
Bobby considered Michael’s words. “I asked her out. She turned me down, said she’s just too busy.”
“I think she doubts herself, her judgment about men in particular. The last time I saw her before I got sick, she introduced me to her fiancé.” Bobby looked surprised.
Michael nodded. “I asked her about him tonight. She refused to discuss it.” He looked at Bobby. “I think she’s afraid.”
“I’d like to get to know her, but I’m not going to pressure her,” Bobby said. “If she’s afraid, I’ll just have to be patient.”
Michael looked thoughtful. “I think I have an idea.”
Chapter 27
Maggie did something completely out of character when she got home that night. She intentionally tuned her television to sports. There sat Bobby discussing baseball with a handful of other guys, the disassociation of television doing nothing to diminish the blue of his eyes or the sexy lilt of his voice. Now that she knew about the subtle Cajun accent, she couldn’t not hear it. There was no stopping the smile as it spread across her face.
Bobby was dressed in a charcoal suit with a blue shirt and a coordinating tie, and he chatted and laughed with his colleagues. Maggie watched in fascination. He really is handsome. I’ve never seen him dressed up before.
In her mind, she replayed their conversation in the hospital cafeteria and she groaned miserably. He has to think I’m an absolute idiot. If he doesn’t think I’m just a bitch.
“I’ll have to apologize when I see him, that’s all there is to it,” she said aloud.
The next morning, Maggie got up early and hit the internet, researching the best foods for people on chemotherapy and compiling a list of things to look for at the organic market. She was surprised when Michael called.
“Hey, what’s up?” she greeted him. “I’m working on a shopping list for you.”
“Thanks, Mags,” he said. “But don’t go overboard with the organic shit, okay? I don’t know if I’ll eat all that anyway.”
“You have to eat, it might as well be healthy foods,” she returned. “Just try the things I get. You might even prefer them, free of all the artificial crap.”
“We’ll see,” he said doubtfully. “Listen, I want to thank Beau for all his help yesterday. We’re having him over for dinner tonight.”
Maggie frowned. We? “Tonight?” she asked. “Michael, I don’t know what I’m making for you, yet. How am I supposed to pull together a nice dinner?”
“You’re not pulling together anything. I’ve already placed the order, it’ll be delivered by 6:00 tonight. I talked to Beau, he’s getting here at 7:00.”
Maggie couldn’t think of a response.
“Don’t you think we should thank him for everything he did yesterday?” Michael prodded.
“Well of course I do,” Maggie sputtered. “But it’s just so...short notice.”
“I know, but luckily he’s working an early show today. You don’t have to worry about anything for dinner tonight, I’m making sure everything is taken care of. Truthfully,” he added, “dinner tonight is to thank you, too. You’ve been my rock from the get-go. I appreciate you, Mags.”
Maggie felt a lump forming in her throat. “You don’t have to thank me, Michael. It’s what friends do.”
“I’m still grateful,” he said. “So don’t worry about anything. Go on about your business of hooking me up with sprouts and wheat germ. Dinner is under control.”
She sighed. “Okay, Michael. I’ll see you when I finish shopping.”
“See you then,” he said. “Oh, and Mags? Wear something pretty.”
Wear something pretty. Seriously? Maggie frowned irritably as she disconnected. It’s not enough I’m hauling my cookies all over town to get you healthy food to eat. You’re throwing a last minute dinner party at me and telling me how to dress? Some kind of nerve...
Even so, her thoughts went to her wardrobe. She began sliding her clothes back and forth on the bar in the closet. Humph...it’s supposed to be cold, might even snow. Wear something pretty. Gahhhh!
Two hours later Maggie returned to her apartment, having purchased three bags of organic food and two dozen plastic containers with lids. No way am I carrying all this uptown on the subway, she decided. Especially not while I’m wearing something ‘pretty’. She had no idea why Michael’s comment chapped her butt so much, but it did.
She spent the next couple of hours putting together single serving portions of organic kale salads with red and yellow peppers, spaghetti squash with tomato sauce, and poached salmon with carrots and broccoli. These she stacked in their sealed containers in one of the shopping bags. In another one she put her other purchases like the organic peanut butter, green tea, and lentil soup. She decided that just before she left, she’d pack the third bag with the organic Greek yogurt she’d found.
Then she headed off to shower and get dressed. Glancing out the window, she saw the sky filled with heavy grey clouds. “Great,” she said aloud. “Ten bucks says it snows before I get back home tonight.”
Dressed and ready to leave, Maggie stopped to check her image in the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door. She’d chosen a long heather grey sweater over a short silver sequin skirt with black opaque tights and black ankle booties with heels. The neckline of the sweater was wide, revealing her collar bone and the thin straps of her grey camisole. At the ends of the long sleeves, the cuffs rolled a little around her wrists.
Turning this way and that, she decided she liked the way the sweater clung to her curves. Her red hair she’d left down, sort of tousled and free, and it brushed past her shoulders. “Humph! You wanted pretty. This is about as good as it gets.” Shrugging into her coat, she scooped up her shopping bags and headed out front to meet the cab she’d ordered.
When she arrived at Michael’s he greeted her at the door wearing a black t-shirt with grey sweat pants. He gave a low whistle. “Very nice, Mags,” he commented.
She rolled her eyes. “Pretty enough for you?” she snipped, looking him up and down. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
He grinned. “Company isn’t coming for a couple of hours. I’ll change later.”
Company, Maggie thought. You mean Bobby. In all her irritation with Michael, she’d almost forgotten that they’d be having dinner with Bobby. Her mind flashed to her image in the mirror. Maybe dressing pretty wasn’t such a bad idea.
Not that I’m trying to impress him, she considered. She flushed slightly. Michael watched her carefully.
“Come let me show you everything I brought you,” Maggie told him.
The delivery from Ithaka, a Greek place down the block, arrived promptly at 6:00. Maggie put the Kota Stakarvouna, sealed with foil, in the warming oven to keep the chicken at the correct temperature. The house salad and Garides Psites she placed in the fridge, planning to reheat the shrimp for them to enjoy as an appetizer.
Finished in the kitchen, she headed into the living room to relax for a few minutes and was surprised to find that Michael had been
busy, arranging a table in the solarium on the terrace with crisp black table linens and three white place settings. Smooth jazz quietly filtered through an unobtrusive sound system. He’d put candles on the table and strung tiny white lights among the greenery out on the terrace.
“Michael, this looks beautiful,” she said.
He smiled proudly. “Like I said, this dinner is to thank you, too.”
Maggie hugged him gently. “How are you feeling?”
“Truthfully, I’m a little tired,” he answered. “I think I’ll go lie down for a while.”
Alarmed, she checked her watch. “Bobby will be here in half an hour.”
“Just give me a few minutes,” he said over his shoulder as he headed down the hall toward his room.
Maggie set the alarm on her phone for 6:55 and when it sounded she went to wake Michael. “Come on, you’ve got to get up. He’ll be here any minute.”
Michael groaned. “I’m really tired,” he mumbled. “Let me have a little longer.”
She heard a knock at the front door. “He’s here! Get up now!” she said, going to answer the door.
Maggie swung open the door to find Bobby standing there, the boyish grin firmly in place. “Hi, Maggie,” he greeted her. “You look beautiful tonight.”
She blushed furiously. “Wow, that’s nice of you to say,” she murmured. “Come on in. You look nice yourself.” And he did. He wore nicely fitting jeans with a white dress shirt and a navy jacket. Her eyes drifted to his ass as he walked past her into the apartment and she breathed in the masculine scent of his cologne. She shook her head, attempting to refocus.
“Thanks,” he said. He lifted a small shopping bag. “I brought some wine to contribute to the cause.”
“Great! Michael ordered from Ithaka. I have to admit, it smells heavenly,” she said. “Let me just...” she began. “Michael went to lie down. I’ll just go get him up and moving.”
“No problem. Can I pour you a glass of wine?” he asked.
“Yes, please, that would be great,” she answered. “There are glasses in the bar.” She pointed in that direction. “We’ll be right out.”
Rannigan's Redemption: Complete Collection Page 33
