35. Maggie
35
maggie
Oh, my God. My hands won’t stop shaking. Chiffonade is becoming chiffanot. I’m hacking away at the basil, and Daisy is going to notice. It’s like a pesto murder scene, green smeared everywhere and everything chopped into indistinguishable pieces.
He’s like a foot away from me. Colt. Colt is so close I can smell his beachy scent. The one that is always musky, rich, and salty. That sounded dirty in my head. I flash a secret smile at him, and he returns it and again there are chills running in every part of me.
You have to be close to him to smell it, and you wouldn’t think this man with his boyish, blondish all-American locks and respectable background would smell so sexy. Or talk so dirty. Wonder if he still does? I shake my head when I realize I’ve chiffonaded a napkin.
This is more than I could have dreamed of when I think about him in my life. I knew he was widowed, obviously, but I never let my mind go to any possibility. Mostly because I felt I needed to let their world settle but also repair the pickleball sized hole in my ego.
I’m sure I’d get there at some point, since he’s still the first and last thing I imagine about every fucking day. Some days it’s just a flash of a moment or a memory. Sometimes it’s an ache that puts me to sleep wondering why the world didn’t give us a chance to try a life together. And other times, often, it’s the feel or touch of his hands, fingers, tongue and lips I’m conjuring. Even Mr. Threeway couldn’t ever get me there without me thinking of Colt.
It’s like I’m made of cotton candy, so light and fluffy. I’m grinning as I chop and try to help Daisy the best I can. She does look like her mother, and I’m not sure why I didn’t recognize her, at least from Tony’s wedding. I was focused on Mak that day, then my husband made us leave early. We had a pickleball tournament, ugh. I also couldn’t be around him and see his family unit. It was too painful to see that she got to have him and a family. And now I’m an awful person that was jealous of a woman who was sick. But she was there, and I was trying not to interact or know her.
And now I know her daughters and Colt. My Colt, long before he was any of theirs. He’s here sitting one flipping foot from me.
Daisy keeps giving me the side eye. “What?” I whisper while Colt and Sloane talk about something involving flowers and the 1968 Democratic convention riots. Odd dinner conversation.
She turns to me and bites out a whisper while stirring the sauce and never missing the pan. “Did you know who I was?”
“What? No. What? Daisy, I didn’t even know your last name. And why would I care? It was going to come up though, he’s best friends with my best friend’s husband.” Daisy giggles as I try to explain our connection without explaining our real connection. I don’t know how they’d take that.
“Wait, You know the uncles?”
Colt’s attention has shifted to us as I answer Daisy.
“Of course I do. And I’m sure you know my best friend Makenzie.”
Daisy says, “Oh! I love Mak. That wedding! That was the wedding we were at where you were. We don’t get to see Mak too much because she’s so busy with her doctoring. But she’s so cool.”
Sloane says, “She’s one groovy chick. Love her. Wait, do you know Aunt Lizzie?”
“I do! We were all in…”
Daisy says as she’s seasoning the fish. “Paris. Oh, My God. You were there when all the magic of Paris happened.” She sounds bored by Paris stories, and Colt smiles while I avert my gaze.
“I was and it’s where I met your Uncle Tony and Uncle Hayden, but I knew him as Danny, same time I met your dad.”
Sloane groans. “Oh no. Paris! Are you going to tell all the Paris stories again?” She looks at her dad.
“No. Not telling any Maggie Paris stories. But Aunt Makenzie is still her best friend.”
“That she is. She’s a bit insane but yes, she’s my best friend. She’s a bit annoyed at me right now because I’m all the way over here.” And I don’t text as often as she’d like.
Daisy says, “Woah. Why?” She drops a wooden spoon, and it skitters across the floor. “That’s the friend you’re avoiding until you figure your shit out.” I tighten my jaw.
“I find it hard to believe Mak is just waiting around for you to figure stuff out. Or that you haven’t talked to her ten times today,” Colt says. I fish my phone out of my pocket and hand it to him. He can see there are nine unanswered texts and six missed calls just from today.
“She’s relentless.”
“That she is. And they said nothing to me about anything, if you need to know that. Do they know you’re even in Italy?” I shake my head. “How long have you been traveling?” He asks.
“Five months, but I’ve been here for almost two. They’re very good about hiding you from me as well. They know I’m vaguely in Europe or Asia but that I’m safe.”
“Miss Maggie, without a schedule or a plan. This is a story I need to hear.”
“I came a little undone, but I’m better. I don’t talk to her a lot because it’s hard to hear about the ridiculously happy couple currently.”
“I get that. You know the night you stopped texting me; I was with them even before we knew what happened to Dax.” We laugh and the girls watch fascinated, as we chat. I’m peeling a carrot for the salad. Daisy and I decided to make cute curls.
“Mak mentioned she was at your library association fancy dinner. She hates libraries so I have no idea why she was there.”
“I made up the library thing. It was dinner with the brothers, except Dax, of course.”
I scowl at him, “And you lied to me?”
“Your rules, not mine. Did you want me to tell you I was clinking glasses with your bestie while you were avoiding her?”
“Fair enough.”
Colt blurts out, “What are you doing next weekend?” Sloane goes up on her knees and starts clapping.
Daisy cheers a bit. “This could be an epic prank!” Colt nods at her and she smiles back. “They all have no idea where you are?”
“Not a clue, really. Why?”
Colt moves his gaze to my face. “Come to Paris.” My heart seizes and my whole-body tingles.
“What’s in Paris?” I say way too breathily.
His deceptive sweet boy look of a white toothy all American big smile breaks across his face. “Your friends.” I bounce on my toes for a moment. “Tony rented a plane and all the children, Boston Brothers, and two grandmothers are all converging on Hayden and Lizzie next weekend. Come with us to Paris. Girls, is that okay?”
Sloane yells, “Solid. I can dig it!” And she raises her fist in the air.
Daisy smiles and turns to me. “Yeah, it could be cool.”
“If it’s okay with you guys, then I’d love to. Let me text Mak!”
Daisy, “No! That’s the prank. You have to be a total surprise. They won’t be expecting.”
“I get it! I love surprises!” There’s a moment where Colt and I have a decade’s worth of conversations in one look. We used to have wordless conversations all the time. I didn’t know we could still do it.
Colt says, “I know. And this might be my favorite one ever.”
I yell because my excitement won’t be contained, and it spills out at a volume that’s probably louder than expected. “Me Too! This is the best day ever.”
“Road trip!” Sloane yells, and I start dancing.
“Yes. Road Trip Maggie is other level!” Daisy groans a bit, and I make her dance. She rolls her eyes at me, so I take that as a win. I’m friends with Colt’s daughter, and it’s kind of awesome.
I plate up and place it in front of them. I pat her on the back, and she holds her breath until her dad tastes it. His eyes light up and takes another bite as Daisy exhales. As everyone eats, Colt and I catch each other’s eyes across the counter and now I’m the one holding my breath as he holds my gaze. Colt mutters under his breath. “Best day ever.”
I’m standing in a piazza with the light spilling across the cobblestones from the stars and moon. It’s magical, but I’m seeing none of it because I’m pacing. What if he put his kids to bed and realized I was a nice thought, but this is messy? He lives close to here. I know he does because I’ve walked Daisy partially home after a long night of us drinking decaf cappuccinos and pretending we were ladies-in-waiting.
I tried not to be that, a lady-in-waiting. I stuffed my life full of activities, people, jobs, and projects. I crafted a lot and have seen everything on Netflix. I swear, everything. I love teaching. I loved setting up a life but maybe all of it was just filling time and space and waiting for this moment. Waiting for him. That would be a sad life if I spent a decade and a half waiting. Damn. But I didn’t. In the same way, Mak didn’t wait for Tony. Or Lizzie for Hayden.
We went and lived lives that were good and lovely, just not complete. And to be honest, I am complete. I don’t need him to make me feel whole because that’s what I’ve found here in Italy. Me. But now he’s here, and maybe I can have that too. A complete me with a side of Colt. Like having French fries and a baked potato and binging on all the good things.
My breath catches as a tanned Colt in a billowy white linen shirt and turquoise Madras plaid shorts tears around the side of an ancient sepia toned plaster building in the middle of Lucca, where neither of us should be. I gasp at this man charging towards me, not a boy, but a broad, built mature man. I want to climb him like a mongoose.
The contrast of how fresh and alive he looks to a town that serves up such history doesn’t escape me. He doesn’t break his stride, and my whole body aches for him. He digs his hands into my loose hair and takes my lips in a sudden and forceful way. He reclaims every piece of me as the rip in time and space folds over, and we get to start again. No questions or comments, just moans, gasps and the understanding that everything in our stupid lives has led to this moment.
His tongue is insistent, pressing into my mouth, and I don’t resist opening to him. I relish that familiar but totally new feeling of him. I taste his urgency that’s matched with mine as my hands claw at his back. He pushes me back against one of those ancient buildings, and I feel how hard he is for me. I know I’m ready for him as well. There’s zero way the ache between my legs isn’t all about him.
“Are these my plans tonight?”
“Talk later.” He mutters against my lips.
“Yes. And I’ve been tested a lot. And I don’t think I can get pregnant, because we tried but maybe he can’t, but I don’t know. I do know that?—”
My babble is interrupted by him saying, “Focus,” then jamming his tongue into my mouth.
I melt into him and let my body get as close to him as possible. I wrap a leg around him, and he growls a bit. “We have to go somewhere, or I will fuck you against this wall. Maggie, I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you. And whatever you do tonight, that was the last fucking time you mention your ex.”
“And you’re clean?”
He pulls back and raises his eyebrows. “I haven’t had sex in six fucking years and I swear to you, if you rub up against me one more time, I’m going to come in my pants. So, I repeat. We have to go somewhere. Now.” His eyes are dark, hooded, and I’m delighted to know he hasn’t had sex long before she became sick. That their life together really was just about the kids.
“Girls?”
“With the mechanics.”
“What?”
“Surrogate grandparents. It’s fine. Shh.” His lips urgently take mine, and we become gnashing teeth, unable to get close enough to each other.
“Yeah!” I break the feral kiss.
I pull him behind me as I run to my car. “This? What is with Italian rental cars? Yours looks worse than mine.”
“Came with the house. They’re kind of a package deal. You’ll see.”
“I don’t see anything but you.” He grabs me before I can get in the car, and his big hand cradles my head then kisses me again. Plundering my mouth like he’s a rogue pirate desperate for treasure. I moan and he pushes me away.
“I can’t hear that. Fuck. I need to fuck you. And not just fuck but have you, talk to you, listen to everything about your world. My beautiful Maggie. My Meerkat. Tell me you’re still mine.”
“Makes zero sense but I am.” I’ve never been more certain of something in my entire life. Maybe how much I love watching hot air balloons. I do love that. But this, I’m positive about.
“You are what?”
“Yours.”