Chapter Eighteen
I had a feeling she would be asleep when I got back, so I took my time. I called Lennie to tell him I’d be out for part of the week, then I made sure to gas up the bike. I ran some other errands and ordered the food to pick up later.
Once I got in the store, I realized I had no clue what to get Maisie clothing wise. It invited a whole new batch of ideas inside my head. Would it be presumptuous to get her more than for just one day? What about panties and a bra?
I chuckled, deciding to have fun with it. That was usually my answer in life.
Luckily, I always kept an olive-colored rucksack in a compartment on my bike. I crammed the shopping bags inside it and strapped it in on my back for the drive back to the hotel. When I walked inside our room, I jolted Maisie awake, causing her to shriek in terror. The noise alone made my heart ache.
“It’s just me,” I soothed, plopping the rucksack and food on the dresser before darting to the bed to soothe her. I rubbed her back while watching her clasp her chest, catching a breath.
“Sorry, the beeping of the lock and how heavy the door was just kinda, wow.” She sat up wearily.
“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yeah, it’s been quite the trip.” She lifted her chin. “But it’s not anything I can’t handle.”
“Damn straight. Here, let’s get some food in you.”
Both of us sat across from each other on the bed, cross-legged. I presented the paper bag of food. I didn’t think to get paper plates, so we ate right from the cartons with chopsticks. Maisie damn near squealed when I presented egg rolls to her.
Call her baby girl and get her egg rolls more often. Duly noted.
I watched her eat, feeling slightly victorious that I could provide her with a little bubble of peace, even if it was fleeting. Clearing my throat, I asked, “Can I ask what he did this time?”
“Boyd?”
“Yeah, you were really scared back there.”
She bit open a packet of soy sauce and expertly drizzled it in the hollowed-out end of the egg roll, letting the dark juice permeate the flaky shell. “I think he tried to spike my drink.”
“That doesn’t surprise me one bit.”
She eyed me warily. “I’m concerned that doesn’t shock you.”
“He’s slimy. Something about him always rubbed me the wrong way. Plus, he openly cheats on his wife, which I find degrading.”
She continued to nibble on her egg roll. “That’s messed up.”
“Was this at the bachelorette party?” I asked.
“Yep, before you got there. I didn’t see the bartender pour the drink. He just came out of nowhere with it and it was cloudy. I said no. I just had a feeling it was roofied. I’m really aware of that. I had my drink spiked in college. Luckily, Kaylee was paying attention and caught the guy trying to manhandle me out of the bar. I was slumped over and barely able to keep my eyes open. She went full Viking woman and smashed his head into a brick wall.”
“Go, moose killer,” I said in amusement. “Sorry that happened to you, though.” I tried to stave off the protective flare that surged in my chest by chomping down on some cashew chicken.
“Thank you. It made me feel powerless. Just a few more seconds of her turning her head in a different direction could’ve resulted in god knows what.”
I swallowed, pointing at her with my chopsticks. “I noticed you were drinking Thursday. Was it because Kaylee was with you?”
“Yeah, I only feel safe doing it if I know she’s around. When it happened in college, the police down in Florida didn’t do shit about it. So when I found out it was a cop trying to drug me up here in Maine, it just lit a fire under my ass. I filed a report with the state police about his conduct.”
“As you should.”
She twirled some noodles pensively. “After the rehearsal dinner, he pulled me over and I got mouthy with him. He asked where I was staying, and I lied. He was taking forever to write a ticket because he was lurking on me. He found out about Pretty Kitty and made sure to let me know I was a pervert and he wanted me out of his town.”
I snorted. “That’s ironic.”
“And he gave me a ticket for driving without a license because I didn’t have it on me. Since I was using an out of state driver’s license, Tilly’s kept both my I.D. and credit card when I opened my tab. Which reminds me.” She groaned. “I still don’t have my cards. I was on my way to Tilly’s when the whole parade thing happened.”
“So you were somewhere in southern Maine, with no I.D. or car and a cop on your tail.”
“Well, when you put it like that.” Her mouth jerked with a sheepish smile.
“So this is why you were so dodgy this morning? I mean, things ended weirdly between us last night
but—”
“It wasn’t all you,” she interrupted. “I wanted to get out of town, even before I saw the note. Then when you found it, I knew I had to haul ass, even if it meant skipping the chance to work it out with you.”
I was horrified he’d left her the note and harassed her, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I was relieved that was her main motive.
“Maisie, sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me the night he pulled you over? I would’ve stayed at the cottage with you.”
“I wanted to handle it myself,” she whispered.
I curled my hand to run my knuckles along her jaw. “I’ve got you.”
She leaned into my touch. “Thank you, but I’ve got myself.”
I cupped her face, cocking an eyebrow.
“Okay, you’ve got me, too,” she amended, scootching closer to me on the bed so our knees touched.
I could handle Boyd. Was it annoying he’d scared her? Yes, but I was relieved that was all she was worried about.
“Leave it to you to get in this much trouble at a wedding, tornado.”
“Hush!” She shoved at my chest. Her gaze flicked down to her lap then back up to mine. “Can I ask you some tough questions now?”
I picked up the last egg roll with my chopsticks. “Shoot.”
“What happened to your family?”
“Shit, you weren’t kidding.” I racked my brain on how to make sense of it.
“I know you mentioned both your parents died, and your sister, Jamie.”
“Good memory. So, um, yeah, my mom was the first to go. She had breast cancer and passed away before I was even out of high school.”
Her hand rested on my knee. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, it was pretty tough. We were all really close. She was a damn good mother. She was so fun. Like, there was always something to do, a party to throw, an adventure to go on. She definitely made my childhood magical. And my dad—” I felt a grin warm my face. “He was crazy about her.”
“That’s so cute.”
“It was. Needless to say, my sister didn’t handle my mom’s passing well. She, um”—I choked back the sting of guilt in my throat—“started drinking and partying to cope. I wasn’t keeping an eye on her. One night, she was driving and crashed on a bridge. The impact killed her. She was barely 20.”
Her brow furrowed. “Oh my goodness, that’s so young.”
“Yeah, I’ll be honest, I kind of felt like an idiot when I first met you and assumed you were drinking. I shouldn’t do that. Especially after what happened with Jamie. You’d think someone I love dying because of drunk driving would make me more aware of sobriety.”
She squeezed my leg. “You had no way of knowing I was wary about that. Or that my mom’s an alcoholic. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
I nodded, unable to accept what she was saying.
“What about your dad?”
“He died a couple years ago. He was shoveling snow in front of the cottage and had a heart attack. I was at the shop.” I worked up enough courage to say the rest. “No one found him. When I came home, he was . . . cold.”
I stared at the wall in front of me, and bursts of color soared in my periphery as I wrangled in my panic. Sometimes, I’d still see his stony face in my mind when it snowed. Talking about it also brought up memories.
Maisie sweetly brushing her hand up and down my leg brought me back to the moment. Her eyes locked with mine. “I’m sorry you lost them. That’s so hard.”
“Thank you. It was tough. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but I swear sometimes I can feel them. Jamie loved basketball and Girl Scout cookies. I always try to buy a couple boxes when I can.”
“Thin mints?”
I shook my head, feeling lighter. “Nah, she liked Samoa cookies best.”
“What reminds you of your dad?”
“The shop. It was his. Frank’s Auto.”
“Was it your grandfather’s before that?”
“Oh, no, um . . .” I searched my memory for an appropriate answer. “My grandfather died really young. He didn’t even live in Pine Bluff; he was from Boston. My dad was a transplant. My mom, on the other hand, was born and raised in Maine.”
“That’s cool.”
I pointed to her nails. “Did you go to the salon three doors down from my shop with Kaylee to get your nails done before the wedding?”
“Yes.” She splayed out her hand.
“That was my mom’s salon. She cut hair.”
“Wait.” Her hand skimmed the scissor tattoo just under my elbow. “Oh, so is this tattoo to remember your mom?”
No one ever asked what my tattoos meant. The way she instantly made sense of it made my chest tighten. She saw me. She got me.
“Yes. And the roses are for Jamie. She loved white roses. My mom taught her how to grow them in the garden at the cottage.”
“This is a really sweet way to remember them.” Maisie reverently brushed the long lines of the scissors with a pensive little hum.
“That reminds me, I got something for you while I was in town.” I got up from the bed to fetch a sack.
“Patrica’s Beauty Supply?” she said with a creased brow, standing up.
Grabbing a tube of hot pink hair dye and scissors, I held both up like trophies. “I figured you might want to cut your hair now that the wedding is over. You mentioned before you like to do it yourself, so I figured I’d grab the stuff for it. The lady at the store included clippers, bleach, and a cape. She said you’d know what to do. If not, we can find a salon somewhere tomorrow.”
“Dane,” she breathed. “You did this for me?”
“Well yeah,” I said, placing the items back in the bag. “I wanted you to feel like yourself again.”
She leapt at me for a hug. “Let’s do it!”
She snatched the bag and scurried into the bathroom. I made myself useful and threw out the food containers outside. When I came back, she had put on the cape and was playing music on her phone.
“Are you just going to watch me?” she asked, looking at me behind her in the mirror.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”
A loaded silence filled the small bathroom as I leaned against the doorframe. She busied herself with mixing the bleach in the bowl, but I could’ve sworn a flush crept up her neck and on her cheeks.
As she clipped her hair up into sections, she asked me more about my family. I told her all about my mom’s salon and how my dad had gone in for a weekly haircut to flirt with her until she’d agreed to date him. And how I’d had to hang out there after school when I’d been little, so I’d grown up around a lot of women. That established her theory of why I like women so much. I guessed she wasn’t wrong.
Then she asked about the cottage and my mom’s style. I told her all about how my mom would go antiquing all over New England. She’d be hours away from home and call my dad, playing all innocent to ask him to meet her at an estate sale with his truck to haul furniture home. He’d always grumble about it, but we’d all known he loved it. Eventually, he’d just gone with her.
As I told her about growing up in Pine Bluff, I watched as layer by layer, Maisie came back to herself. Not only was her hair visibly lightning, but so was the proverbial load off her shoulders. Watching her process was hypnotic. I couldn’t help but laugh when she squeezed her bleached hair into a mohawk. She kept flaring her nostrils and making goofy voices.
I snatched the brush with bleach and playfully lifted her arm up, forcing the cape to gather by her shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“We’re going to dye your armpit hair. Get everything matching.”
She threw her head back with a snort, letting me continue to hold her arm and peek inside the sleeve of her shirt.
“I shaved for the special occasion!”
“You always keep me guessing. Anything else you want pretty in pink?” I flicked a glance down her body.
"My kitty is already pretty."
"I was talking about leg hair, but fair enough."
She swatted me and snatched the brush from my grip. “What about you?”
Laughing, I bolted as she chased me around the hotel room like a bleached, gooped up, mohawked maniac. I ran from one corner to the other, then eventually shielded myself behind the curtains. She hopped up on the bed like a ninja, all but crawling the wall to reach me.
“Maisie! Don’t you dare!” I grasped her wrist.
“I think a pink streak would suit you! It would make you look extra tough on that motorcycle.” She hopped on the lounge chair, standing on the arm to tower over me.
“I will leave your ass here!”
“No! Not in Vermont!” She snorted.
Seeing an advantage, I tackled her, hugging her legs to my chest to ensure the top part of her was well above me as the most addictive giggle erupted from her. As I ran, she squirmed and put up a good fight. I plopped her on the ground with a smack of her ass. “Get in the shower and wash it off, woman!”
“You just want me naked,” she said over her shoulder with a coy smile.
Neither confirming nor denying, I plucked the clothes I’d gotten for myself out of the bags, handing her the rest before pulling the door shut behind me.
The hair-dye demon had been wrangled . . . for now.