20. Duke
TWENTY
DUKE
My throat still feels itchy this morning. I’d gone through several doses of Benadryl last night and this morning, but I’m grateful that I didn’t have to go to the hospital. Epipens are hard enough to get as it is, since there was a shortage for a bit, and I’m glad I didn’t have to use one for wanting to spend more time with Maggie.
I’m standing at the usual spot outside our businesses with two paper cups. I figured that being the owner of a candy shop, she probably had a sweet tooth, but I wasn’t sure if she is a fan of coffee loaded with cream and sugar, so I went the safe route and bought a hot chocolate. I got one for myself as well, but it’s too humid to be drinking warm drinks.
It’s almost eight-thirty and Maggie still hasn’t arrived, which isn’t like her. I thought she would’ve been on time, like the past few days, but maybe she’s sick?
I open the app and type out a message to her.
Me: Are you okay? I’m just waiting by the store to get started on today’s mission.
There’s no answer and I tuck my phone away and wait. The hot chocolate is now tepid, which makes it a little easier to swallow with the humidity in the air.
Hope arrives at The Candy Jar close to nine and I’m worried when I don’t see Maggie behind her.
“Good morning,” Hope says, taking her keys out of her pocket. She nods at the two cups in my hands. “Do you have a morning date?”
How do I handle this? My thoughts and feelings about Maggie are the pinnacle of confusion and I don’t want to be irritated that she might’ve stood me up. To our scavenger hunt meeting. Not a date, obviously. I haven’t had the guts to ask her out yet.
The shame of rejection is enough to keep me from that right now.
“I was just waiting for your cousin to show so we could do our daily hunt tasks.”
Hope’s eyes fly wide and she says, “Oh no. I thought she’d left early to be here to meet you.”
“So she’s not at home?” I ask, knowing that’s one less place I’d have to check.
Hope shakes her head. “No, she said she was heading out to get breakfast.”
“How did she seem?” I do my best mental gymnastics to go over anything I might’ve said yesterday to upset her. “She was planning to do the usual today?”
Do I know what her usual is? No. But Hope has to know after living with her for several months.
“I didn’t notice anything off about her. If you still have time to work on the project before work, I’d check the Coffee Bean or Witty’s Diner.”
I nod, glancing down at my watch. I’ll need to be back here in about thirty minutes to get things ready for the day, but I can already cross off the Coffee Bean, since that’s where I went to get the hot chocolates.
“Thanks. I'll see if I can find her.”
I have to look away from Hope’s knowing smile. What she thinks she knows is definitely not the truth of the matter. It’s just a person who’s in love trying to make sure all the rest of the single people around her aren’t suffering the single life.
After draining the rest of my cup, I’m surprised how refreshing the cool chocolate is in this summer heat. Dumping the empty cup into the nearest trash can while still holding the other one. Maybe she’ll still want it. To be honest, I feel like it would be a good start to a conversation. If Maggie didn’t show up for the contest this morning, something tells me she’s going through something.
I walk over a few streets along the boardwalk to the diner. Champ finds me and I make a mental note to get a leash and collar to at least get this high-energy pup to the vet for a checkup. Maggie was surprised I would do that for a dog, but it’s been a few years since my childhood dog passed, and I think I’m ready to jump in again.
Maggie doesn’t seem like the type of person who would eat at a diner. She’s so refined in many aspects, that to walk into somewhere that isn’t perfectly clean seems like it would kill her or something. Her aversion to stickiness comes to mind.
“Stay here, boy,” I say before I walk through the door. I wave to Janet behind the counter.
“What can I get for you today, Duke?” she asks with her notepad ready.
“Give me a minute to decide. I’m just looking for someone.”
Janet nods and turns to grab an order from the kitchen window. I do a quick scan of the diner, trying to see over some of the booths without having to move too far in. I don’t want to get pulled into any conversations today, because I’ve got things to do, and finding Maggie is at the top of that list.
I’m ready to admit defeat, when a light blonde head of hair moves near the back corner. I take several steps in that direction, spotting Maggie there with her head bowed over a plate of pancakes. I like a lot of syrup, but those pieces of cooked dough are absolutely swimming in it. Maybe it’s a sort of spiritual experience for her?
“Maggie, are you all right?” I ask. My voice jarred her from whatever she was doing, causing her to bang her knee against the post of the table.
“I’m fine, Duke. I thought you’d just leave me be.”
There’s the ping of the phones and I realize we must be close enough to unlock the next task. I’m itching to know what it will be, but Maggie needs to be the priority right now.
I walk over and sit across from her in the booth. “I was worried about you.”
“Well, it sounds like you’ve got the next task. Go for it. Just come back and check-in when you need the next one.”
I frown, irritated that she’s being so standoffish today after all that we’ve been through this week. It’s then that I catch a glimpse of her face, her eyes red and puffy.
What could’ve made Maggie get to this point?
“Talk to me Maggie. What happened?”
She shakes her head and says, “Nothing. Just go.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me how to help you. Was it your parents?”
“This isn’t something that you can fix.”
“How do you know? I’ll be the first to tell you that talking can make a great difference in how you feel. And that I can usually come up with some way to chase those blues away.”
She uses the paper napkin to dab at her eyes, which are filling with tears again. “This isn’t one of those times it can all magically go away with candy and unicorns.”
“I’m not sure where to find a unicorn, but I could give you a makeshift one using Prince Harry and a headband.”
There’s a hint of a smile there, and at least she's distracted.
Maggie focuses on the stack of pumpkin pancakes in front of her. I thought that was only a seasonal item, especially here at the diner. Maybe they’d just been trying something different to get ready for a Christmas in summer type of thing? There’s no way we’re even close to winter or fall weather yet.
I say nothing, only looking at her with interest. I hope it’s a look that says I’m open to listen to whatever she has in mind and not like I’m in trouble for something.
“Why are you still here?” Maggie asks before sticking a bite of the pancakes into her mouth. Some of the syrup drips onto her shirt and she either doesn’t notice it or doesn’t care at this point. She sniffs. Whatever she’s dealing with, it must be pretty deep for her to be this upset.
“Because I’m your friend. I’m here any time.”
“You have to open your business soon.”
“So do you,” I say, leaning forward to close some of the distance between us.
She shakes her head. “I have a business partner who can take care of it if I’m not there.”
This doesn’t sound like something Maggie would do . “Talk to me, Maggie. Just give me this one chance to see if I can help. If not, I’ll leave you alone.”
She lets out a deep breath, as if she’s trying to hold onto the last fiber of dignity after crying. “Okay, it’s a deal.”
I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult with how fast she agreed to that.
“It’s just a tough day to remember.”
“Grandma’s death?” I ask, trying to be gentle about it. There’s a lot going on and I don’t have much information other than the reason she didn’t like me in the first place.
Shaking her head, Maggie says, “No, not that.”
I open my eyes a bit more and stare at her, waiting for her to say something.
Maggie pushes the plate away and leans back into the booth, her hair just a little unruly against the plum-colored cushion. She folds her arms over her chest and gives me a look that says she can do this all day.
Does she not understand the deal we just made? She has to share something before I can try to help.
I might not technically have the time for that, but I will give it my best effort.
The seconds tick by and I’m not sure if I’m winning this round of silent staring contest, or if I’m not even on the same playing field she is.
Two minutes go by and she finally releases the fa?ade and slumps forward, the ends of her hair landing in the syrup. I cringe, not sure how hard that is to get out of hair. Probably difficult given her long locks.
“Um, Maggie, you’re?—”
“Why is my life in shambles?” she asks, lifting her head. It’s then that she notices the syrup dripping from her hair and tears silently fall down her face.
I’m not sure what the next move is. Do I go over to her side of the booth and try to comfort her? Do I find a large sink and help her wash out the syrup?
Is this a problem-solving moment or one when I need to just listen?
What I can’t understand is why she’s struggling this hard. What could’ve been so difficult that Maggie Dean is sitting here with syrup in her hair? She hates all things sticky and I don’t know if there’s anything stickier than real maple syrup.
I grab a napkin and dab it in the water glass in front of her. I hand her the napkin and wait, trying to make sure she knows I’m a safe space. Whatever she’s been through, I don’t need to make the trauma any deeper.
“Thanks,” she says, taking the wet paper from me and running it along the bottom of her hair.
“No problem.”
“You really don’t have to stay.”
Sighing, I say, “If that’s what you really want, I’ll go.” I slide over to the edge of the booth, but I’m surprised when her hand lands on mine, leaving a sticky spot from her fingertip.
“It’s the anniversary of the day I got engaged. Two years ago.”
I pause, not sure how to react to that. Obviously there had been someone in her life whom she’d loved a lot, enough to consent to his proposal. And then there had been some wedding planning, which explains why she doesn’t love The Bridal Barn or anything close to weddings. And she’s obviously still single.
But does anyone remember the day they got engaged?
“I’m… sorry.” I pause, as if trying to test out if I’m approaching a feral animal or a docile one. “That’s got to be rough.”
“Have you ever had someone use you for something? Like put on a face for a whole relationship just to get what they wanted?”
I try to think of the people I’ve met in my life, wondering if I can help her ease her worries, but no one comes to mind.
“I can’t think of anyone.”
“Well, my ex-fiancé did just that. He was the perfect cutout of the guy my father wanted me to marry. And since my brother enlisted in the army the day he graduated from high school, my parents were determined to have me, and my future husband, run the family business. Little did I know that Zander was dating the receptionist for the company at the same time he kept telling me that I was the only one for him, that I hung the moon and the stars in his eyes.”
I cringe. Why would someone actually say that? I know there are plenty of cheesy things that are said and done in romance books and movies, but that one is topping the scale.
“That’s rough,” I say, trying to come up with something to make her feel better.
She nods. “Yeah, when I asked my dad about it, he said that sometimes guys do stuff like that.”
What kind of insensitive jerk would say that to his daughter? I hope I never have to meet the guy.
I shake my head, hoping she’ll understand. “Not the good ones.” I lean over and pull her closer, hoping she’ll be able to feel some comfort, even if I’m still the enemy in her mind.
She wipes at her eyes and sniffles. “Thanks.”
We sit there in silence for a moment and then she says, “He scammed me too. If I ever see him again, I’ll?—”
“Sorry,” I say, stopping her there. “How does a fiancé scam their future bride?”
“I don’t think you’ll look at me the same if I tell you.” Maggie takes a ragged breath and focuses on the pancakes.
Reaching over, I take her hand in mine, trying to hide my smile that her fingers are still sticky.
“Maggie, we survived singing karaoke together. I’m not going anywhere.” At least she’s starting to care what I think. Maybe that’s a sign we’re on the right track to friends. With the possibility of more later?
“He wanted to be really involved in the planning. I figured I’d hit the jackpot in the fiancé department because he cared. We would go look at different options for the venue, flowers, and the rest. I wanted to be mindful of the money spent because it’s one day, right? Weddings don’t need to be over-the-top, as long as the people love each other.”
This all sounds good so far, but my brain is trying to run ahead and think of how this scenario plays out. With the little she’s told me so far, I can’t find a connection.
“He loved the expensive stuff and offered to go half on all of the items.”
Oh no. Please no.
Maggie frowned and said, “He said that if I paid him my half, he would put it on his travel card so he could earn points for the honeymoon.”
“When did you find out?” I ask. I’m hoping the guy left long before the wedding was supposed to take place.
“The day of the wedding. I showed up in my dress, which I bought myself so it could be a ‘surprise’ for him. There was already another wedding booked for the venue. After calling all the vendors, I figured it out.”
I squeeze Maggie’s hand, wishing I could take away the pain. No wonder she wasn’t a fan of weddings. Her face watching Hope get engaged makes total sense now.
“What do you want to do?” I ask, glancing around the walkway. Not many people are out at this time of morning, but I know that doing something when I’m in a funk usually helps pull me out of it.
“What do you mean? Like the scavenger hunt?” Maggie asks.
I shrug. “If that’s what you want to do, sure. If not, we can go do something else.”
She blows out a breath as if trying to control her breathing so she doesn’t start sobbing again. “I feel bad that we missed the hunt tasks this morning. I’m sure Hope can cover for me for an hour or two. Should we work on those right now?”
As much as I want the bonus from DreamTime Vacations, I don’t want to do something that makes Maggie feel worse.
“That’s up to you. We can just hang out, maybe go see a movie. Or there’s probably something we can do down at the beach.”
Maggie checks her phone and then leans over to show it to me. “It looks like the beach is the task anyway. Let’s go.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, still hesitant to push her too far. I’ve been through my fair share of betrayal and heartbreak, so I can’t imagine she’d get over it that quickly. Maybe she’s doing the old fake it til you make it thing.
“Absolutely.”
“Okay, you have to do something for me then.”
Maggie stands next to the table and pauses, waiting for me to continue.
“If you need to bail, or need to do anything other than what you’re doing, you’ll tell me, all right?”
“Of course.”
“You promise?” I ask, making sure to give her an expression that says I mean business.
Nodding, she says, “I promise.”