Darling obstacles (7 page)

Maggie laughed. Though he was sometimes a trial, she eventually always found Max appealing.

"You handled that beautifully, Maggie," Greg said. He was staring at her in the most peculiar way.

"Sometimes a little humor can defuse a potentially explosive situation. Say, maybe I should apply for a position on the bomb squad," she joked.

Greg didn't laugh. He was still watching her, his expression enigmatic. But his eyes, alert and intelligent, seemed to be assessing her in a whole new way.

He was beginning to make her nervous again. "I'd better go and braid Kari's hair," she murmured. It was an effort not to dash out of the room, but she forced herself to walk at a normal pace.

"Maggie?" Greg's voice halted her in her tracks.

She didn't turn around. "Yes?"

"Thank you. For helping both Max and me." His voice was warm and very deep. Maggie gave a quick, acknowledging nod and rushed from the room.

The soccer game was held in the Woodland Elementary School's grassy field. Kari and Max and Wendy played on the playground equipment in the nearby schoolyard with a crowd of other children, none of them paying much attention to their brothers' game on the field. Maggie and Greg stood on the sidelines watching the game with a group of other loyal parents. It was a sunny day, breezy and cooler than yesterday's unseasonable high. True Indian summer, Maggie thought, glancing at the colored leaves on the trees that shaded the playground. Pleased to see that the younger kids were playing well together, she returned her attention to the game.

"Hey, there goes Kevin." Greg nudged her and Maggie's eyes focused on her son. She cheered as he kicked the ball past the other team's rather bewildered goalie.

"Way to go, Kevin!" shouted the coach, already

hoarse from yelling. He took the game and his team very seriously.

'They're going to win this one!" Maggie cried exultantly.

Greg smiled at her. "You really get into this, don't you?" He remained calm, however, watching the action and applauding any good play, regardless of the team. Unlike some of the fathers present, he didn't upbraid his son when he made a mistake on the playing field. Maggie decided that she admired his sportsmanlike conduct.

The game ended in a victory for Kevin and Josh's team. Kari, Wendy, and Max joined them as they walked toward the Wilders' tan station wagon parked in the blacktop lot. Greg had insisted on driving all of them to the game. "Why don't we go out for lunch?" he suggested, and all five children noisily seconded him. "Where would you like to go? Any suggestions?"

"To Wendy's own place. Wendy's!" Max shouted, and laughed uproariously at his own joke.

Kari liked the idea too. "Wendy wants to go to Wendy's," she said. "And so do I."

"All right. Wendy's it is," agreed Greg.

"Oh, Greg. Greg!" A throaty feminine voice paged Greg from behind. Maggie turned to see a tall slender woman with a glowing tan and a thick mane of blond hair approaching them. She wore well-cut green slacks, a white turtleneck jersey with whales on the collar, and a navy sweater tied around her neck. A trifle overdressed for a children's soccer game, Maggie thought, glancing at her own worn jeans. She watched the woman push her aviator-style sunglasses on top of her head and look admiringly up at Greg.

"I'm so glad I caught you, Greg," the woman purred. Yes, Maggie thought with a grimace, she really did purr like some self-satisfied feline who had just snared a mouse. "I saw you just as we were arriving. Jeremy and Jeffrey's team is playing next."

The woman's voice was attractively breathless. "About tonight . . ."

Maggie was startled, but then thought, of course, it was a Saturday night. Did she think that Greg— Doctor Greg Eligible Wilder—wouldn't have a date? And this chic, sophisticated creature seemed to be it.

"Can you come at seven rather than seven-thirty?" The woman laid her hand on Greg's arm. "You know how hungry children get. I thought we could feed them first and then they could watch a movie while we're . . . eating." A meaningful pause. "I rented Raiders of the Lost Ark for the video recorder. That should entertain them, hmm?"

"Are we going to the Smithtons' for dinner tonight, Dad?" Josh asked.

"Yes," the woman answered for Greg, her voice sickeningly sweet. At least it seemed so to Maggie. "Won't that be fun, Josh?" Pure saccharine, Maggie thought. Ugh!

Josh made no reply. Kevin snickered and Maggie stared at her son. She'd never heard him make such a rude, caustic noise in his entire life.

"Taffy, I'd like you to meet the Mays," Greg said smoothly. "Maggie, Kevin, and Kari." He didn't bother to say who was who. "This is Taffy Smithton.''

"She's the Smithton twins' mother," said Kevin with a wicked grin.

"Ohh!" breathed Kari.

"It's nice to meet you," Maggie lied. Taffy gave a brief nod, acknowledging the introduction and dismissing Maggie at the same time.

"Looks like the game is about to begin." Greg squinted in the direction of the field. "The kids are all out on the field. We'll, uh, see you tonight, Taffy."

"At seven," she said breezily, giving Greg's arm a friendly little squeeze. "Ciao!"

"Chow?" repeated Max, puzzled.

"She's an old friend," Greg said. He unlocked the doors of the station wagon and the kids piled in. "We used to party with her and her husband."

"Mmm." Maggie feigned indifference. She was aghast at the pangs of jealousy tearing through her. She had guessed, even before Greg added, "They were divorced a year ago/' that the woman was unmarried and very much available. Her body language had screamed it.

"You're having dinner with Jeffrey and Jeremy Smithton tonight, Josh/' Kevin said, chortling. He began to hum a funeral dirge that had been played as background music on a cartoon show.

"Daddy," Joshua began on a whine, "I don't want to go."

"We have to go. She invited us—all of us—two weeks ago and I accepted." Greg seemed to be addressing Maggie rather than Josh.

"Another date!" Josh complained. "You have too many dates!"

"My mommy doesn't go on dates," Kari announced primly before chiming in with Kevin's funereal drone.

"Stop it, Kevin and Kari!" Maggie snapped, and both children instantly quit humming. She inclined her head slightly toward Greg. "Dr. Wilder, you really don't have to take my children and me to lunch. I know you're busy and—"

"We're going to lunch,'' Greg said, his jaw clenched. "All of us."

"Turn on the radio," Josh demanded, and Greg immediately flicked it on. The loud rock music accompanied by the children's laughs and shrieks precluded any attempt at conversation during the short drive and Maggie was glad. It was idiotic to feel jealous of the glamorous Taffy, she scolded herself. The only reason Greg had kissed her that morning was because he'd had a womanless, sexless Friday night. A kiss certainly gave her no claims on him, he owed her nothing. Greg Wilder was totally beyond her reach and always would be. How could she have forgotten such a basic fact, even for a little while? Greg's taste in women ran to sophisticated, moneyed beauties like Francine and Taffy. Maggie May was the

sometime baby-sitter for his kids. It was important to remember their stations in life at all times.

At the restaurant, after they'd gotten their food at the counter, Greg placed the five children in a booth in the back. He suggested that he and Maggie sit at a small table on the opposite side, far from the kids. She insisted on taking a booth adjoining them. When she sat down in it, Greg had no choice but to comply.

"I've known Taffy Smith ton for years, Maggie," he said as he squirted ketchup on his french fries. "She invited us to her place for dinner a month ago."

"Two weeks," she corrected him.

He stared at her, perplexed.

"She invited you and the kids to dinner two weeks ago," she said sweetly. "That's what you said in the car earlier."

"She's an old friend of Alicia's, they used to play bridge together or something." Greg bit viciously into his cheeseburger. "I used to play golf with her husband."

"Her ex-husband." Maggie took a dainty bite of her hamburger. "Greg, you owe me no explanations. You can go out with whomever you please."

"You're damn right!" he growled. "So don't start getting possessive on the basis of one kiss."

It had been a lot more than a kiss, Maggie's heart cried, but her temper quickly overruled such foolish sentiment. "Me? Possessive of you? Don't flatter yourself, Greg Wilder. I don't care what you do or who you do it with." She happened to glance across at the children then, just in time to see Joshua bury a packet of french fries in an oozing mound of ketchup. "That's enough ketchup, Josh," she warned.

"They aren't his french fries, Mommy," Karl piped up. "They're Wendy's and she hates ketchup."

Maggie looked over at Wendy, who was sitting back in the seat looking woebegone, tears sliding down her pale cheeks. "Well, they're Josh's now," Maggie said. She reached across the small divider between the booths and switched the packets of fries,

giving Wendy the plain pack and Josh the over-ketchuped one. Wendy brightened. Joshua scowled.

"Hey, that's not fair!" he said. "Those are Wendy's french fries. I don't like ketchup on mine."

"Too bad. You should have thought of that before you decided to pour it all over Wendy's—who doesn't like ketchup either, as you probably know very well," Maggie said calmly.

"He did it to her hamburger too, Mommy. See?" Kari held up a thoroughly ketchup-laden bun.

"You little tattletale!" Josh doubled his fist and shook it threateningly at Kari. "You're a brat!"

"Sticks and stones may break my bones but names will never hurt me," Kari recited in a singsong chant.

Maggie deftly switched Wendy and Joshua's hamburgers, giving Josh the offending ketchuped one. "All right, Joshua and Kari, that's enough. 1 don't want to hear another word from either of you. Now eat."

"I can't!" wailed Josh. "I hate ketchup. I won't eat anything with ketchup on it. It'll make me throw up."

"Then don't eat," Maggie said calmly, picking up her own burger and taking a bite.

"I want my hamburger and french fries back!" Josh howled, and made a grab for the hamburger in Wendy's hand. He caught Maggie's eye and abruptly halted in mid-lunge. She continued to stare at him in her most forbidding-mother manner until he settled back in the seat and crossly folded his arms across his chest. Only then did she turn her attention back to her food.

"It isn't fair to take out your anger toward me on the children," Greg said, having observed the scene in silence.

Maggie arched her brows. Evidently he didn't like the sterner side of his sweet Mother Machree image of her. "I'm not angry with you or with the children," she replied coolly. "I simply handled the situation as I thought best."

"And you think it best that my child doesn't eat lunch?" Greg asked in a strained voice. "Josh hates ketchup. He won't eat anything with ketchup on it."

"If he's hungry enough, hell eat." Maggie reached for a french fry.

"That's an incredibly cold-blooded attitude, Maggie," Greg said, bristling.

"And you thought I was such a saint," she said. "Mother Machree has feet of clay after all."

"Daddy, I'm hungry," Josh complained plaintively. "Can I get a new hamburger and fries? Please, Daddy?"

Greg reached into his pocket and pulled out three one-dollar bills. "The child is hungry," he said to Maggie, his voice defensively sharp. "He spent over an hour running in that soccer game. He needs his food, he's a growing boy!"

"He'll be well on his way to growing into a spoiled brat and a bully if you keep giving in to him this way."

Greg's mouth hardened. "My son is not a spoiled brat or a bully," he said indignantly. He handed the money to Joshua with a warm, fatherly smile. "Here you are, Josh. Get some lunch for yourself."

"Thanks, Daddy!" Josh exclaimed. "You're the greatest!"

Greg preened. "You see, he is very appreciative."

"The old soft-soap," Maggie said mockingly. "What's to keep him from dousing Wendy's food with ketchup the next time? Do you intend to keep wasting money on food that no one eats?"

"I can certainly afford the price of one measly hamburger and a pack of fries, Maggie."

"Of course you can, but you're missing the point entirely. Josh is always taking advantage of Wendy. He runs roughshod over her and she never stands up for herself. It was Kari who spoke up for her. Wendy was ready to suffer in silence." Maggie saw Greg set his jaw and knew he didn't like what he was hearing. But she persisted; she couldn't stop now. "What do you think Josh and Wendy learned from this little epi-

sode? You've given Josh tacit approval to do whatever he likes to Wendy. She must feel that—"

"Since you don't have a degree in child psychology, I would appreciate it if you skipped the lecture, Maggie. I think I know my own children and I know how to deal with them."

A thousand and one remarks sprang to mind, each one devastatingly sarcastic, but Maggie said nothing. She was smarting too badly over his crack about her lack of a degree. She was very sensitive about her lack of education. She'd wanted to go to college, but in her family a college education was for boys only. She'd married at nineteen as she was supposed to do, become a mother at twenty. And though she had no degree, she did have practical experience with children, a lot of it. Maybe she had spoken out of turn, but she felt on secure ground when it came to children and discipline. She knew her stuff cold in that area, and she simply couldn't sit silently and watch a mistake in the making.

Josh returned to the booth with his new, ketchupless hamburger and french fries and shot Maggie a triumphant look. She didn't react, although she saw Greg frown. They finished their meal in silence. Even the children were subdued. The ride back to Woodland Courts was an abnormally quiet one until Greg stopped the station wagon in front of the Mays' duplex.

"Say thank you to Dr. Wilder for the ride and the lunch," Maggie prompted Kevin and Kari. They obeyed, chorusing their thank yous before running to the front stoop.