Chapter 45 #2
And I would.
Of course I always would.
But I should probably clear that up to her, so she didn’t think I was living in denial by my use of the term ‘girlfriend.’
“Sorry about back there. The whole ‘girlfriend’ thing. I just figured it was the easiest way to get the message across.”
“What, ‘best-friend’s sister slash ex-girlfriend’ was too long for you to explain to them?” She gave me that smartass look of hers that always drove me crazy in the most mind-blowing way.
“Something like that,” I agreed. “Now are you going to tell me the real reason you came out here to linger with all the groupies instead of talking to me back at Liam’s?”
Her face fell.
“I don’t know.” She said. “I just needed to see you and I was so scared you were going to leave before I found you so I rushed out here and—” she paused, as if trying to catch her breath.
“I just… didn’t want you to leave without you saying goodbye.” She finished, looking up at me with raw vulnerability.
“I didn’t even know you were at the game,” I told her, dumbfounded.
“I didn’t know I was going to be here, either.” She shrugged. “It was sort of a last-minute decision.”
“Why did you come?” I asked, my voice sounding pathetically like a plea. “For Liam?”
Or for me? God, please say for me.
She didn’t say it in words, but her eyes were all the confirmation I could ever need. Brimming with earnesty, she stared up at me and said, “I really miss you, Brody.”
“I miss you, Mags.” I said, hand wrapping around the back of her head. “God, you have no idea—”
“Mr. Callahan,” a small voice that was either my savior or my demise called out, because fuck, I’d just been about to kiss the shit out of Maggie.
Still might. I thought. After I tell them to screw off.
I opened my mouth to do just that, not even bothering to turn in their direction when Maggie’s expression made me pause.
Her eyes narrowed, focusing in on the figure behind me before a look of shock registered on her face.
“Mr. Reilly?” She breathed out. “Is that you?”
I turned, finding a middle-aged man with two kids by his side. A boy and a girl—both under the age of ten. All three wearing Harbor Wolves jerseys.
“Ms. Brynn?” The man said, her own surprise mirrored on his face. “I’m so sorry, we didn’t mean to bother you, we just—”
“No, no. It’s fine.” She said, stepping around me, looking down at his children with an unusual expression. “Are these your kids?”
“They are.” He said. “I have them for the night.” He beamed at Maggie as if this was particularly wonderful news. And for some reason, Maggie seemed to think it was, too, based on the genuine smile that crossed her features.
“Hi,” Maggie said to his kids, who were hiding shyly by their Dad’s side, staring up at me in awe. “I’m Maggie. It’s really nice to meet you.”
“How do you know Daddy?” The younger one asked her.
Maggie looked to the man, and he cleared his throat before responding.
“Uh, we work together, sweetie.”
It didn’t take a genius to put together that this man was obviously one of Maggie’s clients, which meant this man was in some type of custody battle for the children that were right in front of me.
Thank God I didn’t tell them to fuck off, I thought.
Even though my first instinct was to do exactly that considering they interrupted the first real moment I’d had with Maggie in who knows how long.
They were cute, I noted, and they looked remarkably like the man Maggie had referred to as Mr. Reilly.
My heart went out for them all. I couldn’t imagine what it was like for any of them. My family, cramped as we had been, had stuck together my whole life.
I guess I had taken it for granted. The fact that I got to stay in one home with both my parents, instead of being swapped back and forth like luggage. There was no yelling, no fighting, no slamming of doors or words of anger.
And what I once had thought of as a relatively normal, maybe even boring upbringing—I now saw for what it was: unbelievable luck.
And more so, I couldn’t imagine that Maggie had to deal with shit like that every day.
The clients and the court cases and every little detail into these people’s hellish home lives.
It was depressing as hell, if I were being honest. And it explained a lot of the cynicism in Maggie’s way of seeing the world.
I’d always known her job, of course. But seeing the real people affected? It wasn’t just a blurry image in my head anymore. It was real and tangible proof of the weight that Maggie carried every day. I didn’t think it was something I could shake off.
And even though she never admitted it, I know it killed Maggie that her own father had never even made an attempt to get partial custody.
He’d been willing to walk away from it all, her included. And for the first time, I was realizing what that knowledge might do to a person.
If her own father could walk away from her, if her father could not fight for her—why would she ever believe that anyone else might?
“Hey, kids.” I said, scooting down in front of them, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions currently taking over. “Did you guys have fun at the game tonight?”
“Yeah!” They both cried in unison.
“I’m sorry I didn’t play so well.” I winced dramatically. “If I’d have known you two were in the audience, I would’ve done a lot better.”
They giggled.
“But hey, I can promise you next time you come, I’ll make sure I don’t let any of those pucks into the net, okay?”
They both started babbling, acting as if we were the oldest of friends, while I saw Mr. Reilly watching us from the corner of my eye with something like overwhelming fondness for the kids. And gratitude towards me.
Huh. I thought. Gratitude for simply taking two minutes of my day to talk to some kids.
That was the thing about my job that I never really got. People screamed my name, wanted pictures of me, wore my name on their backs.
And I was just, me.
It never really made any sense to me.
“We’re sorry to bother you,” Mr. Reilly said, profusely apologetic. “We saw the chaos that happened back there. That wasn’t right.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I told him. “Not your fault.”
But I knew for sure, I was never going to walk past any kid again who wanted to say to me again. No matter how shitty a day was, what was a minute of my time compared to a moment they might cherish forever.
Just because I played a silly game.
I got it. Believe me I got it. I’d had heroes of my own back as a kid. It wasn’t until a few years into my career that I realized—they were just normal people, who happened to make their livelihood off of a game that for some reason was a multi-billion-dollar enterprise.
“I just wanted to give them a great night.” I heard him tell Maggie. “They love hockey. And I—well, I just wanted them to have a good night with me.”
“Hey, do you guys want to take a picture?” I asked, trying to give them something they might really remember.
“Yes!” They both bounced in unison.
I grinned at their excitement, feeling it wash away the sour mood I’d been in. It was impossible to be upset when there were kids in the world who got so excited over the most mundane of things, even when the circumstances in their lives were undoubtedly shitty.
Maggie and Liam had been just like these two kids, I thought.
“Hey Mags,” I called out, “will you take a picture of the four of us?”
“You sure you want an old eyesore like me in the photo?” Mr. Reilly laughed.
“Yes, Daddy!” The little girl said, dragging his hand to come stand beside us.
“Yeah, Dad.” The older brother agreed. “You gotta!”
Maggie grinned, staring at the family with a sense of contentment as she slipped her phone out to snap the photo.
“Here,” she said, “I’m going to take a few.”
She clicked away, calling out, “now do a silly face!”
We all did, the kids giggling as they stuck their tongues out, faces scrunched up in amusement.
“Thank you, Mr. Callahan.” The man said, and then turned to Maggie with something akin to admiration in his eyes. I knew because I looked at her like that, myself. “And thank you, Ms. Brynn. For everything you do.”
Maggie waved it off, but I saw her eyes getting misty.
This client meant something to her. His case, his kids. They were important. Which meant they were important to me by extension, because there wasn’t a thing Maggie Brynn cared about that I didn’t.
That’s just what happened when you loved someone.
And I knew that these people were lucky, because once Maggie decided to go to bat for someone, there wasn’t a force in the world that could stop her.
“I’ll see you for our meeting next week?” She said to Mr. Reilly, and he confirmed with a nod.
“Kids, say thank you.” He instructed, and once they did, they set off, the kids skipping all the way out.
“Thanks for that.” She said, coming to stand beside me.
“For?” I smirked down at her.
“I don’t know. Talking to them. Taking a picture. It meant a lot. To them. And to me.”
“It was nothing,” I told her, knowing I would do so much more, if it earned me even a fraction of the smile she was sharing with me.
“It was something, Brody.” She argued. “You give away pieces of yourself to everyone, do you know that? You’re so incredibly selfless, even during the times you have every right not to be.”
I’ve given all of myself to you.
“Do you—”
Do you want me?
Do you love me?
Do you—?
“—need a ride?” I finished lamely, a million things unsaid between us.
I stared at her, praying for her to say yes. I just wanted her beside me. Needed it, actually. And because I was a desperate, pathetic man, I wasn’t above begging. “Please say yes.”
She nodded, smiling shyly.
I exhaled in relief, opening the passenger door. Watching as she climbed inside and buckled herself in, I shut the door behind her.
It was only when I settled myself in the drivers’ side, drove us out of the lot and under the city lights of Boston did I finally feel like myself again.
Because that was the thing. Maggie was a part of me. Probably the biggest part.
And I hadn’t been me without her.