Unlikely Allies (11 page)

“You think you’ll have more children?” Grace gripped Emma’s finger and tried to pull it toward her mouth.

The pang in Maggie’s heart told her yes, but she figured the likelihood of it happening would be slim to none. Since she didn’t want or need another mess of a man in her life, a baby wouldn’t be possible anytime soon. Maybe ever. She shifted her attention from the bundle in her arms and examined Emma closer.

Was it rude for a stranger to ask such a question? Not really, but for some reason she didn’t like it coming from her. Shoulder to shoulder in shared baby wonder, she noticed a few things she hadn’t picked up on outside. Faint age lines spread from the corners of Emma’s eyes. Sunshine from the large picture window behind them cast a sheen on her hair, revealing streaks of copper and red. The turquoise tank with matching cardigan and jean capris seemed casual enough for a birthday party. Compared to the loudmouth with Mr. Stone last week, Emma’s soft tone and gentle manner so far had been the complete opposite. Yet still, something about the woman didn’t fit right.

“My son’s a great catch.”

Maggie blinked several times. “Huh?”

Sophia came over with a bottle in hand, removing Grace. “I’ll be in the rocking chair. If you want to round everyone up, they can come in and eat now.”

Without a baby to concentrate on, Maggie’s stare settled on Emma. “Son?”

“It may be presumptuous of me, but I didn’t see a ring on your finger. You’ll have to excuse me, I’m a little old fashioned. I realize not everyone wears rings these days. You’re single, right? I thought Matt mentioned you were.”

“He did. I was there,” came Sophia’s shouted confirmation from the living room. “And yes, she’s single. Tell your son to get his butt in gear, Emma. He’s gonna have to change his tactic to get someone as special as Maggie.”

“Son?”

Emma nodded, her smile gradual at first, and when Maggie said “son” again, Emma pointed outside. “Rick, he told me you met several weeks ago.”

Maggie rubbed her temple, a headache setting in. “How old are you?” Sophia’s coughing laughter came from the living room. Maggie turned on the cold water and filled a glass, gulping it straight down. The kitchen window hid nothing. At least a dozen kids swarmed like bees and chased Mr. Stone and Matt around the backyard, kicking soccer balls from one end to the other.

“Your daughter likes him,” Emma remarked as she rested her hip along the counter and looked in the same direction. Her remark narrowed in on the problem and prodded way too close for Maggie’s peace of mind. “He works too much. A good woman—the right one—could give him something else to focus on. And I should know. You know why?” Without waiting for acknowledgement, Emma elaborated. “Because his dad was the same way before we met. I was a twenty-two-year-old college student working as a waitress to pay my way through school. During a dinner rush, a handsome young man not much older than me sat in my section. I didn’t have a lot of time for more than a quick chit-chat and hadn’t paid him much attention. On his way out, he handed me his bill, a fifty-dollar tip, and then told me some oddball joke. The kind that was so absurd you couldn’t help but laugh. He came in several days a week, doing the same thing for a month. Then one night, when I went to retrieve the bill, he was already gone. Sitting on the table had been enough money to cover his bill, his normal tip, and a red rose. On the back of the receipt was his name and phone number.”

During Emma’s story, Maggie took a seat at the breakfast nook, and became immersed in the memory as though it were her own. Sophia also joined her, burping Grace and rocking side to side. When Emma didn’t relay any more, she couldn’t help but ask, “And what? Did you call him?”

Emma’s cheeks turned red, and she shook her head no.

“Why not?” Maggie and Sophia said over one another.

Shrugging, Emma sighed and joined them on the bench seat. “It wasn’t the right time. There was so much going on, and I didn’t need the distraction.”

“So how’d it happen?” Sophia prompted. “Don’t leave us in suspense.”

“All right, I’m starved. Let’s eat. The birthday girls are screamin’ for cake,” Matt announced, while a parade of adults and kids followed him inside, all of them going into the dining room where the burgers, dogs, pizza, and other goodies had been set up.

Figuring she’d better go hunt down her daughter, Maggie scooted across the bench, about to get up. A second later Cece appeared, attached to Mr. Stone’s legs, her fingers gripping the belt loops on his jeans. Unable to walk normally with the extra weight, he flung his leg forward with Cece on it like a pendulum, and rocked back and forth with each step. His arms latched around her back, in a protective embrace. A collective sigh from the peanut gallery next to Maggie echoed in the kitchen, and she refused to admit the sound came from her own parted lips, too. Cece’s beaming smile and glowing adoration for Mr. Stone almost had her jumping out of her seat and snatching her daughter away. That single expression stabbed her in the heart, and brought a reappearance of the devil on her shoulder.
No. Not him.

Perfect timing as usual, Kat swept in, yanked Cece off of him and declared, “Time for grubs, monster.”

“No monster, sweet pea,” Cece corrected.

The fact her daughter preferred Mr. Stone’s nickname landed another strike, stabbing Maggie between the eyes. She face-planted in her awaiting hands, cushioning the blow—somewhat. Someone rubbed up and down her spine.

“You feelin’ okay?” Sophia’s concern had been appreciated but unnecessary.

“Uh, Maggie, could I talk to you? In private.” Mr. Stone’s voice sounded close by.
Too
close.

No, you can’t. Go away.

Call it woman’s intuition or whatever, she almost kissed Emma for her out of the blue save. “Let Maggie get something to eat. I heard her stomach grumbling. She must be starved.”

Maggie could feel the jostle of the table as Emma and Sophia must have gotten up. Since she still had her face buried she couldn’t tell, just guessed. Counting to ten, she dropped her hands, expecting to be alone. No such luck.

Across from her, Mr. Stone tapped his thumb on the wooden surface, inches from her fingers. “When you’re done, we need to talk. It’s important.”

Years of dealing with her sister’s antics and handling the constant challenges that came from being a single parent, she rose as steadily as possible, more than prepared to tackle the next stumbling block. She leaned in, knuckle to knuckle, a bead of sweat rolling down her spine as she whispered, “What could you say that you haven’t already?”

A faint caress tickled the hairs on her finger, dragging her away from his attentive eyes. His thumb lifted and fell on the table in a flicking, daring taunt. If she didn’t get away from him right this minute, she’d smack him for a different reason.

One person after another walked by them on their way outside, tossing curious glances. Time to get a grip. She patted his shoulder and added a squeeze, clenching it a little too tight on purpose. “Well, Mr. Stone, better dive in before all the food is gone.” Then she escaped, filling a paper plate and doing her best to avoid his heated gaze.

Throughout the party, Mr. Stone attempted to corner Maggie. Cake being her favorite part of birthday celebrations, she scooped up a slice of vanilla just as a strong grip caught her elbow, almost dropping the perfect piece with three pink roses on the floor. He pressed his warm lips against her ear. “Stop avoiding me. I’ll be in Matt’s office down the hall. Bring the cake and meet me.”

As nonchalantly as possible, she licked the frosting off her fingers, pretending he hadn’t said anything, and that his zipper wasn’t glued to her behind. A cursory glance showed a few Westlake employees and other guests she didn’t recognize gathered on couches and chairs around a flat screen TV. The open-space concept presented a clear view from the kitchen through the dining area into the living room. A NASCAR race had the attention of the males and females, chatting and snacking as they took in the action on the screen. No one paid her any mind.

After he left, she stacked another huge slice of yummy goodness on the other piece and went outside to the swing set. Stuffing her mouth full of icing, she shoveled one forkful after another between her lips and watched the kids. They glided down the slide, swayed back and forth on the seats next to her, and jumped for the o-rings, rocking back and forth like monkeys. The distraction served its purpose. She had no intention of meeting him anywhere.

Filled with her daily dose of sugar and relaxed from a soothing swing, she wandered to the pool for a dip. With her feet dangling, she closed her eyes and aimed her face toward the sun. Kids’ shouts of glee made her smile and delight in their simple pleasure. Matt and Sophia knew how to throw a party. A variety of activities kept the thirty-some kids busy. The picnic tables had finger paints and art supplies. Brand new motorized Barbie jeeps drew boys and girls. Some of them were entertained by jumping on mini-trampolines, while others stood in a long line, including Cece, waiting for a pony ride. He who shall not be named had arranged the attraction as the twins’ gift.

No sooner did she have the thought, she felt someone sit next to her, along with a kerplunk and a gush of water splashing her thighs. “If you stay put and act casual, no one will know you’re pissed at me,” Mr. Stone uttered in a monotone.

She lifted the leg closest to him and kicked. The intent, splash and drown him out. Her sucky plan drenched her T-shirt and shorts. His wind-sucking howl indicated she must have missed him by a mile. Since she refused to open her eyes, she didn’t know for sure.

“Well, that was smart.”

Her annoyed quip came just as quickly. “What would be smart is if you stayed away.”

“Now, if I did that, I couldn’t give you my secret message, Maggie.” His cutesy tone aggravated her even more. Why couldn’t he take a hint?

“You see, the good thing about secrets is that they’re supposed to stay that way. So take it and shove it up—”

A huge hand covered her mouth, halting her whispered tirade. It didn’t stop him though. “I’ll tell you what. If you won’t let me say it, then I’ll have no choice but to write it down and send it to you.”

On automatic impulse her body stiffened. Other not so pleasant letters came to mind. The most recent arrived yesterday. It had been two weeks since she received the last threat. Jake’s brother, Donnie, helped him communicate from behind bars. Often Jake followed each correspondence with a call too, repeating the same message and blaming her for his conviction, even though she hadn’t been the deciding factor. Fingerprints and eyewitness testimony weighed in the decision, proving he robbed over twenty convenience stores. Yet, he swore she’d pay, an eye for an eye.

“Shh, relax.” Mr. Stone dropped his hand on her thigh; a sudden burning sensation, either from the sun or him, seared her skin. Seventy-degree temps gave her a chance to wear jean shorts. Now, with him touching her, she regretted having worn them. “It’s okay. Just give me a couple minutes. I don’t want to say what I have to around all these people.”

A sudden cry had every parent jerking around left and right trying to find out who was hurt. Next to a trampoline, a little boy lying in the grass had bloody teeth showing as he screamed in pain. Several adults rushed over to him, checking his arms and legs and helping him get up.

She stood and searched for her daughter. Both Kat and Cece were in the middle of a bunch of kids waiting in line. “Get over here, Mags. Your turn. I need a potty break.”

“Yeah, Mama, come here. Ride the horsey.” Jumping up and down, Cece held Kat’s hand and with the other waved her over.

Grateful for the opportunity to escape, she jogged over to them. Kat walked around Maggie, ducked down, and spoke low enough that Cece didn’t hear. “You know that little voice in your head, Mags, and all those rules you have. Listen to them.” Then off Kat went, darting past clusters of guests.

From fifty feet away, Maggie watched as her sister careened over to Mr. Stone and stood inches apart from him. Kat’s globe-sized sunglasses prohibited Maggie from getting a read on her sister’s facial expressions but it didn’t matter. She could just imagine Kat’s words of wisdom, none of which could be repeated around impressionable children.

Now she regretted telling Kat what Mr. Stone said about her parenting skills. In return, Kat told her to “ignore the ass” and avoid him. Easier said than done since events like this made it impossible. As much as she tried to play keep away, he sought her out. It didn’t help that Cece wouldn’t stop hounding him either. Maggie wasn’t sure how to handle him. She might not want or need a man in her own life, but that didn’t mean Cece couldn’t gain a lot from good men like her boss. As for Mr. Stone, she’d go with the flow and figure out how to limit Cece’s access.

“My turn. Pick me up, Mama.” Cece yanked her forward. The pony stomped its hoof and the guide held his hand out, prepared to catch the bouncing little girl eager to get on.

Hoisted onto the saddle, Cece grabbed the reins and watched as the elderly man showed the proper way to loop a thumb and forefinger through them. As the pony and guide moved, so did Maggie, following the designated path. Thank goodness for the restricted area, since large clumps of poop made it difficult to navigate, causing her to dart around at least ten piles. Yuck, what a mess. If she were Matt, she’d force Mr. Stone to clean up before he left. A kick in her knee pulled her gaze away from her flip-flops to Cece’s enormous grin. She forgot about everything else and took pleasure in her daughter’s happiness.