41. Maggie
CHAPTER 41
MAGGIE
I hate liars.
I always have. It probably stems from all the lies my grandmother used to tell me when I’d ask where my mom was. As an adult, I can see her predicament. You can’t really tell a five-year-old that her mom’s having sex with strangers to score drugs.
But instead of telling me that my mom was sick and getting help from a doctor or that she’d gone away but would be back soon, Grandma Margo told these tall tales about how my mom was this great person who was out doing an important job and that’s why she couldn’t take care of me.
Lies.
All lies.
I guess she did it for her sake as much as mine. Maybe she just couldn’t handle the truth that her daughter was an addict who refused help. Maybe she thought if that was the truth then she was to blame? It doesn’t work like that, but my grandmother was never one for logic or psychology.
My aversion to lies started at a young age, but it didn’t stop there. And I know I’m not alone— who likes being lied to? But it bothers me to my very core. I think that’s why Clay and Bella’s betrayal cut so deep. They weren’t honest with me.
Everyone deserves the truth, no matter how shitty it is.
If they’d come clean with me, there’s no way I’d have gotten on that damn plane to Hawaii.
I’d have been angry and broken-hearted, yes. I’d have lost my shit and bailed, not caring about how it looked or how much money Clay had spent.
It would have hurt like hell. There might have even been a scene.
But in the end, the truth would have hurt less.
JT knows me better than anyone, even Viv.
He knows exactly what I’ve been through and just how important the truth is to me.
So why did he lie?
I’m pacing our tiny kitchen and even though I’m moving slower than a snail these days, Mickey’s watching me like a hawk.
“Do you need more water?” he asks. Mickey appointed himself the Chancellor of Hydration after he found out I was pregnant.
“I’m fine, thanks,” I say, holding up my still-full cup. What I need to know is where the hell my boyfriend went and why he lied about being at the rink when he clearly wasn’t.
I’d just woken up and wandered into the kitchen looking for JT, but I found his note instead. Immediately, I knew something was off. He never leaves notes. He always texts. And he didn’t say when he’d be back which is totally out of character for him. The closer I get to my due date, the more he hovers. Sure, he goes to class and to practice, but when he’s gone, Theo and Viv are always around. I spotted Van and Josie the other day and did a double take because they don’t live here. They told me they were taking a walk. Yeah. Uh-huh.
The truth is that JT’s got eyes on me all the time and I don’t even mind it. If anything, I think it’s kind of sweet. He’s worried about the Nugget and me and he feels safer knowing somebody’s close by.
“That’s all you’ve drunk? I’ve been here for forty-seven minutes and you’ve taken, what? Three sips? My sweet little niece is gonna come out parched.” He shakes his head as he fishes around in his backpack. I have no idea what he’s looking for, but then again, this is Mickey. It wouldn’t surprise me if he pulled out a giant water bottle and handed it to me. I also wouldn’t be shocked if he had a bunch of snacks stashed in there.
A minute later, he triumphantly holds up a marker before making a line on my cup. “There. You have to drink to that line before you do anything else.”
“Mickey, I’m—” my protest dies as he twitches his finger in front of my face.
“Nope. You can’t even talk. Your job is to drink. And make a human.”
I sigh. And then I drink. I’m not thirsty, and I’ve done a pretty good job of staying hydrated today, but Mickey takes his role as uncle very seriously, so I comply. Besides, it’s sweet the way he takes care of us—JT, Nugget, and me. I wonder if the rest of the guys notice all the ways he takes care of them, too. Yeah, he’s nuts. And unpredictable. And sometimes hard to follow, but he has the biggest heart of anyone I know.
Girls around campus don’t take Brannon Mikalski too seriously. They see him like a trophy, I think. They all want to get with him to see if the rumors are true. He joins in, of course, because that’s just who he is. He laughs it all off and leans in to all the hype because it’s easier that way. It’s his way of protecting himself, and I get that on every level. But someday, some lucky girl is going to stick around and find out just what a sweetheart Mickey is. And my sappy heart can’t wait for it. I want Mickey to be as blissfully in love as JT and I are .
You know, when I don’t want to rip his heart out and shove it down his throat for making me worry.
“Take a sip, Maggie. You have that murderous look in your eye.”
“And water is the cure for bloodlust?”
Mickey shoots me a look of disbelief. “Uh, yeah. Water is the cure for everything. Or at least the first step. Also, please don’t murder your husband until after the Frozen Four. I mean, don’t ever murder him. But if you really have to, can it wait a couple days?”
“I guess,” I relent, taking a sip of water. “But only because my back hurts and my ankles are swollen, and murdering JT would take energy I just don’t have right now.”
Mickey nods, like I’m making perfect sense. “That’s fair. Plus, it’s probably not good for your blood pressure, either. I’d say wait until Mickayla arrives, but somebody’s gotta change her diapers. You might as well let him live, but make him take the worst parenting jobs.”
“I like it,” I say, taking another sip. “Like, permanent diaper duty?”
Mickey shakes his head. “That’s already been decided. You’re making a freaking human, Maggie. And you have to give birth. All he had to do was come. So, yeah. He’s on mandatory diaper duty for sure.”
See? This is why I love Mickey.
“You make a good point. Go on, what’s next?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking,” he says, unwrapping a protein bar and taking a bite. I have no idea where it came from —our pantry, his back pocket, who knows? “He definitely gets the gross stuff, like diapers and the snot sucker. And laundry, because you know, some of her shit’s gonna have actual shit on it. But I think in addition to the literally shitty jobs, you also make him do the less overtly shitty ones. Like carpool. That’s gotta suck. And anything with bodily fluids. That’s all on him. You’ve done enough, I’ve got it. This is genius. He’s in charge of shopping. Back to school, prom dress, you name it. If little Mickayla needs it, Daddy’s gotta take her. I went prom dress shopping with my sister, Birdie, back in high school and it sucked hairy dogballs.” He polishes it off another protein bar and uses a spatula like hockey stick to shoot the wrappers into the trash.
“He scores!” I cheer, laughing, until I hear footsteps outside the door and the familiar jingle of keys in the lock.
“And the murderous glare is back,” Mickey observes. “Don’t worry, Maggie. Your secret is safe with me. I know you won’t actually kill him, but he doesn’t know that, and I’m not telling.”
The door opens, and JT steps in and toes off his shoes. He looks guilty as hell right now, and not only because his hockey bag is still sitting by the door, right where he left it. “Hey, baby. You’re awake. I didn’t want?—”
“Where were you?” I ask, not bothering to hide the worry in my voice.
“Maggie,” he says, his voice breaking as he strides toward me. “You were sleeping when I left. I didn’t want to wake you.”
He reaches for me, but I stay still. “I know all that. What I don’t know is where the hell you’ve been. And don’t even give me that bullshit about running drills.”
The look on his face threatens to crack my icy resolve. “Maggie, I’m sorry. I wasn’t running drills, but I did go to the?—”
“Dude, stop. You’re just making it worse.” Mickey inserts himself as the voice of reason and JT nearly jumps through the ceiling. Holy hell. He must really be rattled if he didn’t even realize Mickey was here.
“Jesus. Mickey. When the hell did you get here?”
His best friends shrugs. “An hour ago?”
JT opens his mouth, then shuts it again, thinking better of whatever he was going to say. It doesn’t matter, though. Mickey keeps talking.
“I didn’t see Pete in the lot. He must’ve pulled up after I got up here. I saw the group chat, though. He said he was on Baby Watch and everybody gave it the thumbs up. But I didn’t even know there was Baby Watch duty tonight because you never fucking called me. I just came over to hang out, you know, because you’re my best friend. But you weren’t home, and Maggie was worried and you didn’t answer my texts. Wherever you went and whatever you did, it was a solo mission. What the fuck? We’re a team, asshole.”
It occurs to me that Mickey has been just as worried as I’ve been. JT’s the brother he never had, and their bond is strong.
JT shakes his head and my arms ache to reach for him. I’m mad and frustrated and confused, but I can’t hold out any longer, so I wrap my arms around him and hold on tight. It should be awkward with my belly in the way, not to mention our height difference, but it’s not. We fit together like puzzle pieces and I curse myself again for waiting so long to give in to the love we have for each other.
JT doesn’t let me go as he walks us over to the couch. He sits first then pulls me onto his lap.
Mickey looks at us and sighs. “Alright, lovebirds. Work it out. And Maggie, remember what we agreed on.”
“Hold up,” JT says, halting his friend’s exit. “Get back here, man. You’re family, too.”
Mickey’s smile could light the night sky as he sits next to us on the couch. About thirty seconds later, he moves to the recliner. “It’s probably better if I sit here.”
JT let’s out a breath. “I needed to clear my head,” he starts, but we’re not letting him get away with that bullshit.
“The fuck you did,” Mickey says. “Be honest. Did you have it out with Coach?”
JT does a double-take. “What? No. Baylor and I are in an unspoken truce right now, and I’m not fucking with that. Especially right before the tournament.”
“Then where did you go?” I ask. “And don’t you dare lie.”
“I had family shit to deal with,” he answers, his eyes evading mine.
“We are your family,” I say, pointing to Mickey then back at myself.
“Yeah, the family I chose. Tonight, I had to deal with the people who raised me, even though those are pretty strong words. We had some shit to settle, that’s all.”
I’m about to call bullshit, but the pained look on JT’s face is more than I can bear. He clears his throat and looks at his best friend. “Mick, can I, uh, walk you out?”
“What? No,” I protest. “Mickey stays. He’s family, you said so yourself. And anything you can say to me, you can say to him.” My words fill the otherwise quiet room and get no response, and that’s when I get it. “There’s also nothing you can say to Mickey that you can’t say to me,” I tell him, not bothering to hide the quiver in my voice.
JT’s shaking his head at me, his eyes pleading. “Maggie, you don’t understand.”
“You’re right, I don’t. Because we don’t keep secrets from each other, JT.”
“We do when one of us is thirty-five weeks pregnant, ok? Please, Maggie. I’m begging you. It’s all going to be fine, but my family is…Jesus. Toxic doesn’t even begin to describe them. And I need them as far away from you and Nugget as possible. Please. Please just trust me on this. I know you want to fight all our battles together and I fucking love that. But I am begging you to just let me handle this one on my own.”
My instinct is to say no. To tell him he can fuck right off with that bullshit. Pregnant or not, if his family is trying to mess with us, I deserve to know about it.
There’s something in his voice that pierces through the last remnants of the walls I built so long ago. Walls that were made to protect me from other people. Walls JT scaled with ease, never minding the brambles and barriers.
I want to know exactly what the hell has my boyfriend so rattled.
But I trust JT Norris with my whole heart. With our child. With our family. With our future.
I know that he knows I can handle whatever is coming our way. But the stress and worry is eating him alive. I see it in the circles under his eyes and the slump of his shoulders.
That’s what has me leaning up to kiss him. “Okay,” I agree.
JT visibly stills and Mickey’s jaw drops to the floor.
“Maggie,” JT begins, but I stop his words and shake my head.
“I said okay, and I meant it. I trust you, JT. If you need to take the lead on this one, then that’s what we’ll do. And don’t look so shocked. I haven’t been possessed or anything, I swear. Trust me, this newfound inner peace I’ve got going on has an expiration date. You’ve got forty-eight hours to figure this shit out or come clean. Fair?”
Instead of answering right away, he kisses me again and pulls me in close. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”