by Holly Rayner
Maggie had a thought. If it was such a big deal that no one know where Raffaele was stationed, maybe the person she was talking to didn’t even know he was deployed. She didn’t want to make things more dangerous for him by spreading the word if it wasn’t common knowledge.
“I know he’s not at home right now. Can I get a message to him?”
The voice sounded even more disinterested. “I’m sorry, I’m not able to pass a message to His Highness.”
Maggie thought quickly. “He has a secretary. Albert. Can I speak to him?”
“I’m sorry, the Prince’s secretary is on vacation right now.”
“Can I leave a message?”
The voice on the other end sighed and said, “Miss, you must know that we get calls every day from young women wanting to speak with the Prince. He met them at a club, or a party. You can leave a message if you want, but I can tell you that His Highness is not available right now and the message will likely not be read.”
Maggie wanted to cry in frustration.
“I know all that. I’m not…I’m not a girl he met at a party. My name is Maggie Bechet. I was the chef at his birthday dinner last month.”
Silence. Maggie tried again.
“Look, I spent a week at the palace. I had dinner with his parents. I met the King, for goodness’ sake!” Maggie dropped her voice. “Please understand, I’ve got to talk to Raffaele. I just found out I’m pregnant, and even though I don’t know exactly where he is, I know what he’s doing and I know he’s going to be out of touch for who knows how long. But he needs to know that he’s going to be a father, don’t you think?”
More silence.
“Um, hello?”
The realization sunk in. The voice had hung up on her. Either they hadn’t heard her say she was pregnant, or they didn’t believe her. Either way, she wasn’t getting a message to Raffaele.
The tears broke free, then. Maggie didn’t know what else to do. She needed to talk to Raffaele, but that obviously wasn’t going to happen. She didn’t even know what she’d say to his mother. Maggie’s relationship with Raffaele was still so new, and she might get the same reaction as from every other person she’d talked to. Sure, she’d met his mother, so it would be polite disbelief, instead of just disbelief, but the outcome wouldn’t be any different.
Maggie was overcome with a sudden desire to talk to her own mother. If anyone would know what she should do, it would be her parents. With a burst of energy, she hunted for her car keys and purse and set off to make the drive to her parents’ house.
Half an hour later, Maggie stood on her parents’ front porch in tears, not even able to knock on the door. She hadn’t been there but a minute when the front door flew open.
“Maggie, darling, what are you doing here?”
Jeanette Bechet stood on the other side of the screen door and Maggie couldn’t even answer. Her mother pushed open the door and drew her only child into the house.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
At her mother’s worried voice, Maggie cried harder.
“Mom, I don’t know what to do.”
Her father must have heard the commotion, because he met them in the living room and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. Maggie sunk down onto her parents’ couch, unable to do anything but cry.
“Joseph…” Maggie’s mother began, and her father nodded.
He left the room, returning a minute later with a glass of water and a box of tissues. Joseph set both items down on the coffee table, and then sat on Maggie’s side opposite from Jeanette.
They let her cry it out, and only when she grew quiet did her mother ask her again, “What’s wrong, love? Is it the restaurant?”
Maggie shook her head. “No, it’s…” She wasn’t even sure what to say. When she started to shape the words, they sounded so absurd that she couldn’t even get them out.
Her father patted her hand. “Whatever it is, sweetheart, we’re here for you.”
“I know, Dad. It’s just, well, I’m pregnant.” She looked back and forth between her parents, who exchanged a surprised look.
“That’s wonderful, honey!” her mother exclaimed.
“Unless it’s not?” her father, as usual, balanced her mother. When Jeanette gave him a look, Joseph added, “We didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”
Maggie laughed a little, because what else could she do?
“Do you remember when I went to Europe a few weeks ago? To cook for Prince Raffaele of Spiaggi? We…well, we’re in a relationship. Or we are—were—starting one, anyway. Raffaele was supposed to come for a visit in a few days, but I can’t get in touch with him now. And he hasn’t called.”
Joseph gave her a serious look. “He’s disappeared? Do I need to make a few phone calls?”
Maggie leaned her head against her father’s shoulder.
“No, Dad. I think I know what happened.”
She took a deep breath.
“While I was there, Raffaele found out that he would soon be required to complete two years of military service. He didn’t have any details, but he was sure that he’d be able to visit before he left. All I can think is that something changed, and he had to leave sooner than planned. I can’t find any news, though, and I can’t find anyone who can get a message to him or who will tell me anything.”
“What can we do to help?” Jeannette asked.
Maggie sighed. “Tell me what to do?”
She hated feeling like a failure, especially in front of her parents, but she was at a loss.
“What do you want to do?” Joseph asked.
“I want to talk to Raffaele, but that’s apparently not going to happen. And I know he wouldn’t have left without telling me unless something happened and he wasn’t able to. I’ll know he’ll call when he can, but I have no idea when that might be. I don’t think I can wait on him to make a decision.”
“Do you think you might not want to have the baby?”
Her mother asked the question calmly, but Maggie could tell she had an opinion on how Maggie should answer.
“It’s not a question of wanting. If Raffaele were here, there wouldn’t be a question. I think…I think he’s the one, Mom. I love him, and we want to build a life together.” Maggie lifted a hand helplessly. “But he’s not here, and I don’t know that I can have a baby and work and wait for him.” She sighed again. “I don’t know that I can raise this baby on my own. What if Raffaele doesn’t come back?”
“You wouldn’t be the first woman to raise a child on her own,” Jeanette said wisely. “And you wouldn’t be alone, anyway.”
Her father nodded eagerly. “We’re here for whatever you need, Maggie.”
“Whatever you decide to do, we’re behind you,” her mother agreed.
Jeanette exchanged another look over Maggie’s head with Joseph. He nodded.
“If you want to know what we think…”
“Yes, please.”
“We know how important the restaurant is to you. But in the end, it’s just a thing. A baby is a blessing. You’ve always wanted a family, and you put that on the back burner so you could focus on work. And you’ve done so well; we’re so proud of you. But if you want a family, at some point you have to focus on that goal as well. Now seems like as good a time as any.”
Maggie nodded, still thinking. “Can I stay here tonight?” She wanted to lean on the strength of her parents a little while longer.
“Of course, sweetheart.”
Jeanette went to fix tea, and Joseph, seeing that Maggie didn’t want to talk about Raffaele just then, asked her if she wanted to see his latest woodworking project. Maggie let herself be distracted, and when she woke up the next morning, she knew.
Her parents were right. She did want a family. She knew she wanted a family with Raffaele, and even though the thought of his not returning terrified her, if he didn’t, she knew she still wanted their child. Maggie believed that he would want her to have and raise their child, and she knew i
n her heart that if Raffaele could come back to her, he would.
Maggie decided she could wait for Raffaele. When he came back, they would be the best parents for their child and everything would be all right.
She believed it. What other choice did she have?
Chapter 19
Maggie
For the next seven months, Maggie was torn between the thrill of pregnancy and frustration with not hearing from the father of her baby. She marveled at each little milestone and cried alone when Raffaele wasn’t there to feel the baby kick or rub her swollen feet.
In spite of her determination to carry on as if everything were fine, she’d finally given in to the pressure from her family and her staff and was starting her maternity leave. Maggie didn’t want to leave, but even she knew that she needed to rest and finish getting her apartment ready for the baby. She was planning to take three full months off once the baby was born, and then go back to part time after that.
She wandered through the empty restaurant before dinner started, lightly running her hand over the chairs, leather booths, and dark wood tables. Maggie had to laugh at herself a little; it felt almost like she was saying goodbye.
There was noise from the kitchen and a minute later, several members of her staff spilled into the dining room.
“Chef!” Joshua called. “Last night of service for a while. You looking forward to your break?”
Coral, BienVille’s new general manager, slapped him lightly on the arm. “She’s not exactly going on vacation.”
Maggie laughed. “At least my chef training has also conditioned me to function at odd hours with little sleep.”
“And feed demanding people, even if they’re usually not that little.” Joshua grinned at her.
“True.” Maggie rolled her eyes a little. “Though to be fair, I’m not sure this one is going to be that little.”
She rubbed a hand over the bump that seemed like it would never stop expanding. “It’s a good thing I’m taking off now—I’m not sure I’m going to be able to see the countertops soon.”
Coral put a hand on Maggie’s elbow and said, “Would you like to sit down so we can go over everything?”
Maggie nodded. “Please. I know you, Anna and Joshua have everything under control, but I can’t seem to help myself. I know how busy this season is, and I hate leaving you all.”
Coral shook her head.
“We’re in a really good place. We’ve got enough staff, you’ve written menus for the next two months, and your parents have offered to step in and help if need be.” She smiled. “But let’s go over things one more time so you can not worry about anything but you and the baby.”
She nodded Joshua toward a chair, and he pulled it out for Maggie.
Maggie was going to miss this part of the business, even if it was just for a couple of months. She got along so well with her staff—they really were like family—and it was going to be weird not talking to them every day.
Maggie knew hiring Coral was the right thing to do. She’d made the decision four months ago, when she’d realized she couldn’t handle both cooking and the day-to-day operations of the restaurant. Something had to give, and Anna had suggested a general manager to handle all the restaurant’s operations and logistics.
She spent that evening in the kitchen, enjoying the rhythm of the work. Maggie made a point to talk with each of her staff at some point during the evening, doing things like reminding Brian to make sure to take enough time off for his finals and complimenting Elise on her pastry work.
At the end of the night, Maggie was the last one out the door, shutting off the lights with a quiet goodbye. She knew she’d be back in a couple of months, but she was still sad to leave.
Maggie had to admit, the following week was a nice break. She nested, getting the baby’s room ready and fixing meals for herself to store in the freezer. She spent time with her parents and enjoyed the festive atmosphere in the city. Christmas was only three weeks away, and she loved the city all decorated and lit up.
She rested, catching up on sleep and TV shows. She took short walks and folded impossibly tiny and cute baby clothes into the new dresser in the nursery.
And then, she got bored. By the second week, she was starting to get a little stir crazy. Maggie missed being at the restaurant. She missed the fast-paced work, the camaraderie of her kitchen crew and front of house staff, and creating amazing food.
Maggie felt like a whale; there were at least two chairs in her apartment she could no longer sit in because she couldn’t get out of them, and she cried at everything.
She wished Raffaele would call or at least have someone call her. She hadn’t given up on hearing from him, but she’d stopped trying to reach him. Although she tried not to blame him, she still resented the fact that she was having to do everything without the father of her child around.
Most of all, she just missed him. Maggie wished that Raffaele could be there to spend Christmas with her, meet her parents, and help her get ready for the baby’s arrival. She was sad that she couldn’t share the season with the man she was in love with.
By the time the holidays arrived, Maggie was ready. She still had some baby things to put together and a few projects to complete, but she was definitely ready to have her baby. But the little one showed no sign of appearing, so Maggie kept to her plan of going out to her parents’ place for the holiday.
Maggie wasn’t really ready for Christmas, though. She wasn’t feeling particularly celebratory; cheer and joy were not high on her list of emotions right at that moment.
When she arrived at her parents’ house on Christmas Day, her mother met her at the front door with a big hug. The atmosphere in the house was festive, and she was drawn into a whirlwind of cooking and music and presents.
Her parents were trying so hard to make it a perfect Christmas, and Maggie tried to be happy with them, but she also missed Raffaele and felt more than a little lonely.
After opening presents, Jeanette and Joseph went to the kitchen to prep dinner. They’d insisted Maggie stay where she was, and she agreed if for no other reason than the fact that it was so darn tough to get in and out the chair.
So, Maggie sat there, surrounded by a pile of presents, all things related to the baby. There were adorable little onesies and bibs, a collection of bottles and tiny dishes, and a beautiful mobile to hang above the crib. Maggie didn’t mind that most of her presents were actually for the baby; even though last year her parents had given her an amazing new set of knives and a chef’s hat with her name on it, she’d expected most of this Christmas to be baby-focused.
And she couldn’t help but smile; her parents were so excited about their first grandchild. It was fun to watch, and they’d been such a help to Maggie. Her father, who had been indulging his woodworking passion since retirement, had built a gorgeous rocking chair for her, and her mother had helped her put together a nursery, painting her second bedroom and finding a crib and changing table to go with the rocking chair.
Maggie’s phone dinged with an incoming message. She almost didn’t bother checking it, but she was worried about missing a message from the restaurant, so she stood up and reached for her phone.
The text was from Coral, the short message reading:
Merry Christmas, Maggie. Hope you and your parents are having a good holiday. A letter for you was delivered to the restaurant, and I wanted to make sure you got it as soon as possible. I’ll keep the original for you.
There was an image attached to the text, and Maggie opened it up. A quick glance made her gasp—the letter was from Raffaele. There was no date on it, no return address. The words had clearly been written in a hurry.
My dearest Maggie,
I’m so sorry. I was deployed suddenly and forbidden from letting you know that I was going or to where. I’m still not able to contact anyone outside the base, and likely won’t be allowed to do so for the rest of my deployment. I don’t know when this letter will reach you, and I know
I have no right to ask, but I hope that when I return, you’ll be waiting. I think about you every day—I can’t wait to see you again. I love you, Maggie.
Yours,
Raffaele
Maggie’s knees wouldn’t hold her, so she sank down onto the floor. He was fine. He missed her. More than that, he loved her and wanted her to wait for him.
She couldn’t stop the tears falling as she read the letter over again. It was the first time he’d said “I love you”, and she wanted to keep reading those words. It meant everything that he’d written, especially since he’d apparently had to wrangle someone or something to get her this letter.
Her mother must have heard her crying because she rushed into the room.
“Maggie, what is it?”
Maggie held up the phone carefully, almost afraid that if she handled the phone too roughly the message would disappear.
“I got a message from Raffaele.”
Jeanette read the screen. “Oh, sweetheart.”
Maggie nodded and swiped one hand over her eyes, still tenderly holding the phone with her other hand.
“He’s really okay. And he wants me to wait for him.” She looked up at her mother. “It’s all going to be okay, isn’t it?”
Jeanette sat down on the carpet and put an arm around her daughter. “Yes, it’s all going to be okay.”
Maggie leaned against her mother’s arm.
“Okay, then. Now I’m ready for Christmas.”
The two women sat like that for a long moment until Maggie said, “Can I come help in the kitchen?”
Her plaintive tone made her mother laugh, as Maggie had hoped, and her mother stood, holding out a hand.
“Always. Come on then, my girl. Let’s go make Christmas dinner.”
Maggie took her mother’s hand and started to stand. As she pushed herself up, she felt a dull but strong pain in her abdomen and back, and she sat down suddenly.
“Mom?” Even to herself, Maggie’s voice sounded small and a little scared.
Jeanette leaned down, but didn’t let of Maggie’s hand.
