“I wanted you to tuck me in,” the little girl said.
Maggie pulled up the covers and tucked them around the child. “Okay, that looks pretty tucked.”
Savannah gripped her brown teddy bear and looked solemnly at Maggie. “Will you sing me a song?”
“A song?” Maggie repeated as she sat on the edge of the bed. The little girl nodded. Kid songs, kid songs... The only thing that popped into Maggie’s head was the Sheryl Crow version of Sweet Child O’Mine.
In the kitchen Bobby heard Maggie’s voice, soft and slightly raspy. “She’s got a smile that it seems to me...” The lump in his throat was back.
A few minutes later Maggie reappeared in the kitchen. “There,” she smiled. “I think she’s down for the count.”
He pulled her to him, holding her tightly. “I love you so much, cher,” he murmured against her neck.
Chapter 17
While Maggie and the Beaulieu clan were watching the fireworks from the great lawn of the park, Michael watched from the comfort of his leather sectional, over the blonde head of Jillian who knelt between his feet with his cock in her mouth. He called for her every couple of weeks or so. She never asked about the burn marks on his chest or his lack of hair. She’d even told him she found bald men sexy. And she always made sure he came. He figured it was a worthwhile investment. Mags would probably be none too pleased if she found out, but it was really none of her business anyway.
Maggie had her way in his life enough as it was. Michael continued with his treatment as he’d promised. He ate all the healthy food she brought him and tried not to give her a hard time about it. Beau still stopped by with beer and junk food every once in a while, but less often than previously. Michael suspected the decrease in Beau’s late evening visits was in direct proportion to the increase in the number of nights Maggie stayed over at Beau’s apartment. Or he at hers, Michael wasn’t sure what their arrangement was. He wondered why they didn’t just move in together but again, that was none of his business. Still, he was gratified to see that his plan for matching up Maggie with a worthy guy was panning out.
In mid-October, Sam Mainor called to say that he had the information Michael had hired him to find. Michael invited him to stop by the apartment, and the two men sipped good bourbon as Sam delivered his report. Winding down his presentation, Sam handed Michael a large manila envelope. “It’s all in here, Mike. Documents, photos, everything.”
Michael nodded. “Good work, Sam, I really appreciate it.”
Sam grinned ruefully. “Well, you paid me enough for it. Thanks is really unnecessary.”
“I’m grateful to you anyway,” Michael said, walking the private investigator to the door.
* * *
Throughout the summer and into the fall, Maggie continued putting one foot in front of the other at work. She was loathe to complain to Bobby, he was the bright spot in her life.
She’d had to tell him about the death threat, though.
He’d looked shocked. “What the hell do you mean?”
She’d rolled her eyes, trying to minimize the situation. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. I’m going to have a little extra protection for a couple of weeks.”
The truth was that she’d drawn the short straw and was the lead prosecutor in a murder case against a suspected gang member. A death threat was standard operating procedure, as was witness intimidation and probably jury tampering, although the latter would be next to impossible to prove. Bobby had insisted that she move in with him until the threat was over. He’d been none too pleased when Michael filled him in on some of the other difficulties Maggie had been experiencing at work.
“I just don’t understand why you don’t tell me these things,” he’d said to her.
“You have so much going on,” she’d said. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”
“Maggie, I love you. Worrying about you is what I do.” He’d elicited a promise from her to keep him in the loop when it came to her work concerns.
By early November, life was back to normal, at least as normal as it got. Bobby was back in New York after being away covering the World Series for two weeks. There was still no word on extending his contract, but they had him regularly appearing on the prime time sports news program every weeknight. Maggie was beginning to get excited about their trip to Louisiana for Thanksgiving. Bobby’s parents had been so kind to her, and she looked forward to meeting the rest of his family.
When Michael’s latest scan results were in, Maggie took the afternoon off work to accompany him to the doctor. He’d seemed to be feeling well and she was optimistic about his progress. Wouldn’t it be great if he could be finished with his treatment? Just in time for the holidays...
“I wish I had better news, Michael.” The doctor leaned back in his chair, his face grim.
Maggie felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room. “I don’t understand. He’s done all these treatments, he’s eaten the right things.” She glared at Michael. “Those damn chili dogs! You had to have that fucking junk food!”
“Probably diet has little or nothing to do with it,” the doctor intervened. “The chemo did nothing to shrink the tumors. And since the last scans, the growth has increased.”
“Well,” Maggie blustered, “I just saw a documentary about this new treatment where you attack the cancer with viruses like HIV and measles and things. Let’s do that.”
The doctor shook his head. “Those treatments are still in clinical trials, and they’re for different kinds of tumors than the ones Michael has.”
“But there has to be something!”
Michael smiled grimly. “What he’s saying, Mags, is that we’re at the end of the line.”
She looked from one man to the other. “That’s completely unacceptable. We have to do something.”
“I don’t think the radiation helped at all, but we can continue with more chemo if you want.”
Michael shook his head. “I’m done,” he said with quiet conviction.
Maggie wheeled around. “What the hell do you mean, you’re done?”
“I mean I’m done.” He met her eyes confidently. “I told you I’d decide when enough was enough. We’re here. Enough.”
Michael was silent on the cab ride back to his place. While Maggie fumed and raged about finding a new doctor and getting another opinion, a plan began to form in his mind.
Mags is going away for Thanksgiving in a couple of weeks. I’ll use the opportunity to make my exit. He pictured the revolver tucked away in the bottom drawer of his desk. I can get a room at a hotel. The Plaza, maybe. I’ve always liked the Plaza. Definitely don’t want to leave a mess for Maggie to come in and find.
Furiously, Maggie dug her phone out of her purse and dialed. “Bobby, we need to talk. Michael just got bad news at the doctor’s. He’d decided to stop treatment.”
“What?” Bobby exclaimed.
“I think this whole thing is bogus. I’m trying to talk Michael into seeing someone else, but he’s determined that he’s done with treatment.”
Bobby sighed into the phone. “I’m so sorry, cher.”
“Well, you realize that there’s no way I’m going anywhere for Thanksgiving,” she told him abruptly. “Not now, no way.”
“What do you mean you’re not going? You’ve been planning this since the summer,” Michael said in the back of the cab.
“Not going?” Bobby said into the phone. “Maggie, everybody’s counting on you to be there.”
“I can’t go knowing that you’re all alone, Michael. For what could be your last Thanksgiving?” She shook her head. Into the phone, she blurted, “How can I go away, Bobby?”
“Dammit, cher, I don’t have time to discuss this right now. I’m late for the studio. I’ll be at your place as soon as I get off work tonight,” Bobby told her. “We’ll talk then.”
* * *
It was after midnight as Bobby paced back and forth in Maggie’s living room. On the sofa she hugged h
er knees to her chest and watched him. “We’ve been planning this trip for months. Everybody will be there.” He stopped and looked at her.
“I know,” she said quietly.
“Then how can you just decide you’re not going?”
“Bobby, what can I do?” she pleaded as a tear rolled down her cheek. “How can I let him spent what is probably his last Thanksgiving all alone it that huge apartment?”
He shook his head angrily. “I wish just once...”
“You wish what?”
His eyes glinted as he met hers. “I wish you’d put me first,” he said quietly.
“That’s not fair,” she sobbed. “You know I love you.”
Bobby exhaled sharply. “I know you do.” He crossed the room and sat beside her. “And I love you. But I’m not happy about the possibility of you staying here for the holiday. You do what you need to do. Understand this—if you’re not going, it’s on you to call and tell my folks.”
* * *
Maggie spent a miserable week trying to decide what to do about the trip. Bobby was staying quiet about her dilemma, leaving the decision up to her. She knew she needed to call his parents soon if she planned to cancel. Even Michael was pushing her to go, but something felt off about that, and she had her suspicions.
It was Thursday of the week before Thanksgiving and Maggie knew that she’d put off making a decision long enough. She’d made up her mind that after she returned home from checking in on Michael, she’d call Bobby’s mother.
Michael had been particularly snotty that afternoon, annoyed when she’d told him she’d finally made the decision to stay with him for the holiday and that maybe she’d even invite Nate and Ben to share Thanksgiving dinner with them. By the time she exited his apartment building, she was in tears.
Standing on the sidewalk as she tried to pull herself together she heard a voice. “Excuse me? Aren’t you Michael’s redhead?”
Maggie turned to see a well put-together older woman with blonde hair and designer clothes. “I’m sorry?” she asked.
“You’re a friend of Michael Rannigan?” The woman smiled and proffered a jeweled hand. “I’m Veronica. Have coffee with me?”
An hour later, Maggie unlocked Michael’s door. “Michael? I’m back.”
“What now, Mags?” His tone was surly. “Didn’t harp on me enough earlier?”
“I’ve brought someone to see you,” she said quietly.
“I’m not seeing anybody. Tell whoever it is to go away.”
“You’re in an awfully shitty mood, sailor.”
Michael gaped as Veronica stepped into the room. “Ronni? Shit, it’s been...”
She smiled. “It’s been a while. I heard you weren’t feeling well. Maggie and I just spent some time getting acquainted and I told her I’d like to see you.” She surveyed him up and down. “You look like hell.”
He laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, well cancer does that.”
“Self-pity is unattractive on you, Michael.”
Maggie began to back away. “I’ll just leave you two alone.”
“Thank you, Maggie,” Veronica said quietly.
“No, thank you,” Maggie replied as she left Michael’s apartment.
Chapter 18
Bobby gazed at Maggie across the table in the first class lounge of the Atlanta airport. It was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and they’d decided to have dinner during their two-hour layover halfway to Louisiana. “I’m so sorry I was impatient with you, cher.”
Maggie smiled sadly. “You’ve already apologized. Several times. And I get it. I never want to put you last.”
He looked down, frowning. “You don’t. I was wrong to say it. You work your ass off at your job and then take on caring for a sick friend. And on top of that you have this overbearing, insecure boyfriend who makes everything harder.”
“You know I love you. I don’t want you to question that.” She sighed deeply. “I just hate it when we fight.”
“We weren’t fighting,” he said, grinning wryly. “We were just discussing divergent opinions.”
Maggie laughed softly. “Yes, well... With Veronica there to keep Michael company, I won’t worry about him being alone.”
“Whatever it took for you to be able to come home with me, I’m glad you’re here,” he said, lifting her hand to his lips and leaving a gentle kiss there.
* * *
They arrived at the Beaulieu’s home after eight o’clock that night having driven from the airport in the silver pickup truck Bobby had reserved at the rental agency. “A truck?” Maggie had questioned. Bobby had just winked at her.
Jerilyn chased Savannah who bounded out of the house as they pulled up into the circular driveway. “Daddy!” cried the child as she threw herself into Bobby’s arms.
“Well hey there, June bug,” he said, hugging his daughter tightly. “Look who I brought with me. You remember Maggie, don’t you?”
“Welcome, cher,” Jerilyn said as she wrapped Maggie in a huge hug. “Come on in. Are y’all hungry?”
“I’m always hungry,” laughed Bobby. He put Savannah on the ground. “Come on, you can help us get our bags.”
“This is such a beautiful home,” Maggie told Bobby’s mother.
“Why thank you, hon,” she smiled. “Of course, you know Bobby had it built for us when he signed his first contract with the majors.”
Maggie’s eyes widened and she looked to Bobby who seemed uncomfortable. “No. I didn’t know that.”
“Ro-bert, y’all are up in your room,” Jerilyn tossed over her shoulder as she headed back into the house. “Get freshened up and come on down to the kitchen.”
With Bobby leading the way, Savannah carried Maggie’s cosmetic case and Maggie followed with her suitcase as they went upstairs. They traveled down a long hallway to a bedroom on the back of the house with a huge bay window overlooking the marsh beyond the expansive lawn.
“Okay, sweetie,” Bobby said to Savannah, “how about you go help Nana in the kitchen and we’ll be right there.”
“Okay, Daddy,” the little girl said. “Are you coming downstairs, Maggie?”
Maggie smiled. “I sure am. I’ll see you in just a minute.”
“You can sit by me,” Savannah said as she left the room, closing the door behind her.
Bobby pulled Maggie to him and held her for a moment, kissing her neck. “Thank you so much for coming home with me, cher,” he murmured against her neck.
“I’m happy to be here,” she said. “I’m surprised your mom has us sharing a room, though.” He looked at her quizzically. “I just figured we’d be in separate rooms, that’s all,” she shrugged.
“You realize, cher,” he arched an eyebrow, “they know we have sex.” He whispered the last three words, and Maggie blushed furiously while he chuckled. “You’re so pretty when your face is pink.”
Thursday was a blur of activity at the Beaulieu home. Bobby’s sisters and their families arrived throughout the morning beginning around seven o’clock. One by one, Maggie was introduced to them, and she made a concerted effort to remember everyone’s names and at least which kids belonged to which adults, if not the names of the kids. She happily pitched in with the preparations in the kitchen while Bobby worked outside to set up the large outdoor fryer in which the turkey would be cooked.
“Have you ever had deep-fried turkey, Maggie?” asked Bobby’s sister Jenny.
Maggie shook her head. “I never have, but I’ve always wanted to try it.”
“You should go outside and watch,” youngest sister Nancy told her.
Taking a beer from the giant ice-filled galvanized tub on the back deck, Maggie walked down the steps to the area on the end of the driveway where Bobby and his father had set up the fryer on its sturdy platform. The other men were keeping an eye on the kids playing behind the house.
“If it’s not the prettiest girl I know,” Bobby said, smiling. “And she brought me a beer.” He took it from her and kissed her cheek. �
��How are you doing, cher?”
“I’m great! I came to see the turkey fry.”
“Once you have it fried, you’ll never go back to roasted,” Justin told her with a wink.
The holiday dinner around the family table was a raucous affair. Following the grace, the passing of heaping platters and bowls was accompanied by loud conversation punctuated by frequent laughter. Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Maggie sat back and took it all in. Bobby rested his free hand on her thigh and grinned at her reassuringly from time to time.
“Well what do you think, Maggie?” Bobby’s oldest sister Michelle smiled kindly. “Are you coming back for Christmas or have we scared you off?”
“Oh, well,” Maggie began, “actually I have a gathering at my place every Christmas. It’s sort of affectionately known as the Orphans and Misfits Christmas.”
“Being without family, Maggie invites her friends who don’t have anybody either. She makes sure that nobody’s alone on Christmas,” Bobby elaborated proudly.
“Well, she has family now,” Bobby’s sister Renée said, and Maggie blushed as threatened tears stung her eyes.
Later that evening, after the kitchen had been thoroughly cleaned and leftovers had been packed away, the four Beaulieu daughters along with their husbands and children said their goodnights and went their separate ways. Suddenly the house seemed empty and quiet. Jerilyn and Justin retired to the den to watch a holiday movie on television and Bobby put Savannah to bed, but not without a song from Maggie.
Pulling Savannah’s door closed, Bobby winked at Maggie. “Now, cher, there’s something I want to show you.”
Ten minutes later they were driving away from the house in the rented pickup truck, country music playing softly on the radio. “You want to show me something we have to drive to?” Maggie asked.
His smile said he was pleased with himself. “It’s not too far.”
Rannigan's Redemption: Complete Collection Page 47
