Chapter 5 #2
"My first one since the divorce," Linda continued, her words coming out in a rush. "And trust me, those are five words I never thought I’d be uttering to you again.”
“No,” Maggie admitted with a shake of her head. “I never expected either of us to ever say them again,” she gave a nervous laugh. “After all, we’re fifty-nine now. Dating was something we did way back when we were still young and single.”
“I know, right?” Linda said with a snort. “But here I am feeling like a nervous teenager already wondering what I’m going to wear.”
“When is it for?” Maggie asked, taking another sip of her wine.
“Tomorrow night. Six-thirty.” Linda told her. “ He's picking me up."
"Who?" Maggie asked, though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.
"Darius," Linda said. “We bumped into each other on the beach again this evening. We walked together, talked for what felt like hours, and then he asked me to dinner. Before I could stop myself, I had answered yes.”
Maggie felt two things at once for her best friend.
The first was pure, uncomplicated joy for her friend. Linda had spent thirty-nine years married to a man who'd cheated on her, drained her savings, and left her with half of what she should have had. Linda deserved a warm evening with a kind man more than almost anyone Maggie knew.
The second was something quieter and harder to name. A small instinctive caution that pricked at the back of her neck and would not quite settle as she wasn’t sure how much she trusted Darius. There was just something about him that screamed, proceed with caution when approaching.
"Maggie?" Linda prompted. "You've gone quiet."
"I'm here," Maggie said quickly. "I'm just thrilled for you. Truly. It's about time."
"But?" Linda pressed. “I can hear the but in your voice, so don’t deny it.”
"No but," Maggie answered, and then, because Linda had already heard the but tone in her voice, "Maybe a small one.
Darius seems lovely. He really does. But there's something a little bit mysterious about him, don't you think?
He's hard to read. I've only met him a handful of times, but I can never quite tell what's going on behind those eyes. "
"He is a little hard to read," Linda admitted. "I noticed that too."
"That's not a bad thing," Maggie said quickly, not wanting to dampen her friend's first spark of joy in over a year.
"Plenty of good men are hard to read. And Isabel is one of the loveliest women I've ever met, and Penny's wonderful too.
A man is usually known by the company he keeps.
If those two love him, he must be a good person underneath and needs to be given a chance to prove it either way. "
"That's exactly what I keep telling myself," Linda said, relieved.
"Then I’m glad you accepted," Maggie urged her. "Go and have a wonderful time. We're fifty-nine years old, Linda, not naive girls. We know how to spot something that isn’t right, and it’s only dinner.” She sipped her wine before continuing.
“But I know you, so I’m going to advise you not to overthink it.
Just go and enjoy the night with a handsome man. ”
Linda laughed, and the sound was so light that it made Linda sound young again, and Maggie's caution faded into the background where it belonged.
"You always know what to say," Linda told her.
"That's what I'm here for," Maggie replied. “To talk you into doing crazy things but keeping your guard up.”
They talked a while longer. Linda told her a little about the beach walk, about how easy Darius was to talk to, about the way he'd told her his own divorce stories so she wouldn't feel alone in hers.
Maggie listened and made all the right warm noises and pushed her small caution further and further down until she could barely feel it.
"How's the hotel?" Maggie asked eventually.
"A mess," Linda sighed. "But less of a mess now that Michael's here, picking it apart properly. He's been buried in the accounts since he arrived. We're waiting to hear back from the Wayne Group about a meeting in the next few days. Michael wants to look them in the eye and tell them no in person."
"Good," Maggie said. "Have you told him yet? That you've decided to stay?"
There was a small pause.
"Not yet," Linda admitted. "We haven't had a quiet minute.
Between getting the medical suite ready for Uncle George, the hotel, and the hospital visits, there hasn't been a good moment to sit down and say it properly.
But I will. Soon. I want to tell him when we can actually talk about it, not in the middle of everything else. "
"He'll be thrilled for you," Maggie said.
"I know," Linda agreed.
“I’m thrilled about it,” Maggie assured her. “It’s about time you came home to stay.”
“Yes, I agree,” Linda said. “Especially now that Uncle George is getting older. He needs all his family here to support him.”
“Exactly,” Maggie said with a nod. “We both know how quickly life can change, taking the people we love away from us.”
“I wish Uncle George had remarried after his divorce,” Linda’s voice dropped and was filled with sadness. “I think she was the love of his life, and after she left, he just gave up on love.”
“Do you remember her?” Maggie asked, frowning. “I don’t.”
“I do,” Linda admitted. “She was the reason I became an archeologist.”
“That’s right,” Maggie said suddenly, remembering the woman. “She was petite and pretty.”
“Yes,” Linda confirmed. “They were divorced about fifty years ago.”
“Wow!” Maggie gave a low whistle. “And he never remarried,” Maggie noted with a sigh.
“No, he dated,” Linda reminded her, laughing. “Do you remember that one woman he dated just after you came to live with us?”
“Oh, yes, she was dreadful,” Maggie remembered. “Gaynor or something like that.”
“He was with her for almost three years,” Linda pointed out. “We were so afraid he was going to marry her.”
“We even planned on how we were going to break them up.” Maggie laughed, remembering their plotting.
“She was just after my Uncle’s money and the hotel,” Linda’s voice resonated with anger.
“Luckily, Uncle George realized that too and dropped her,” Maggie said.
“I’ve been thinking, if we can still date, why can’t he?” Linda stated.
“No one says he can’t,” Maggie agreed. “We could always make him an online dating profile.”
That made Linda burst into peals of laughter.
“Can you imagine,” Linda said with a little hiccup from laughing. “He’d be furious with us.”
“Yeah, best to ditch that plan,” Maggie had second thoughts. “Let’s set him up with Rosa.”
“No way!” Linda rejected that idea. “Rosa is like fifteen years younger than Uncle George, and besides, she’d never put up with him.”
“Then we’ll just let fate decide if any of us will find love and a partner again,” Maggie reasoned. “Including Uncle George.”
“Do you realize how many of us are single again at our age?” Linda asked.
Maggie’s brows rose. She hadn’t actually put much thought into it, but now that she was thinking about it, Linda was right.
“You’re right, it’s you, me, Michael, Martin, Owen, Penny, Isabel, Darius, and even Uncle George,” Maggie counted out. “I think Mrs. Swanson from the ice cream shop is recently single.”
“Maggie!” Linda half-laughed as she berated her friend. “No. Stop now.”
“I’m worried about his love life now,” Maggie admitted. “It’s your fault for bringing it up.”
“I think we shouldn’t interfere,” Linda advised. “But… if we meet a nice single woman in his age group…”
“We can introduce them,” Maggie realized where Linda was going with this.
“Exactly!” Linda said. There was a pause. “Oh goodness, is that the time?”
Maggie glanced at the clock on the wall, and her eyes widened. “How long have we been talking for?”
“More than I thought we’d be,” Linda answered. “I’d better go. Good luck with the divorce stuff tomorrow. Let me know how it all goes.”
“I will,” Maggie promised.
"Goodnight, Maggie. Love you," Linda said.
"Goodnight, my best friend. Love you too," Maggie replied.
Maggie set the phone down on the cushion and let out a long, slow breath.
She sipped her wine and thought about the phone call.
Linda had a date. Maggie couldn’t help but smile.
She was so happy for her friend, but a little skeptical too.
They knew nothing about Darius. Not even his last name.
Was it Graham perhaps? That was Isabel’s last name. Or it could be her married name.
Her thoughts were interrupted when her phone buzzed beside her.
Maggie glanced down to see Michael's name on the screen.
Her heart skipped, and she hated that it did, but she picked up the phone anyway.
Maggie, I've been thinking about tomorrow.
One o'clock cuts the afternoon in half, and I'd rather not rush through our talk.
Could we meet for breakfast instead? Would 9:30 at the Bay Café be okay?
That gives us ample time to go through everything and to reach your current attorney, should we need to.
Maggie read it twice. Her breath caught at the thought of meeting with him earlier.
Then she typed back, amazed at how steady her hands were right now.
Hello, Michael, 9:30 suits me much better, actually. I'll bring my whole file.
The reply came quickly.
Perfect. We'll go through it all, and if we need to, we'll go straight to your lawyer's office afterward and start the handover.
Maggie smiled despite herself.
Thank you.
She watched the dots bounce as Michael typed.
Goodnight Maggie. I hope you’ll sleep better tonight knowing that I’ve got you. We’re going to get that divorce through once and for all.
Maggie stared at the screen.
The butterflies in her stomach, which she'd been fighting down all evening, lifted all at once and went completely wild.
Goodnight, Michael, she typed back. I’d say sweet dreams, but I know the pressure you’re under right now. But I do hope you get some sleep.
Again, Maggie watched the dots, her heart going crazy as she waited for his reply.
I’m going to have a great sleep tonight. It might have been a hectic day, but it seems to have ended rather pleasantly. Night Maggie. I’ll see you tomorrow.
Maggie sat staring at her screen. That statement could mean a thousand things, but she had a feeling she knew exactly what it meant.
When she finished the last of her wine. She rinsed the glass and left it on the draining board.
She checked the door, turned off the lights, and went down the hall to her room.
As she climbed into bed she knew that her dreams were going to be filled with images of Michael.