Chapter Thirty-two

Trig

After I drop the boys off at home, I head into town to pick up stuff for dinner. I plan to cook for Maggie and then take her to bed and not let her out for a month. Or more.

I don’t know what might have happened in her past, but the way she responded to me last night and this morning makes me determined to have her. She’s mine. Even if the judge says she can’t stay, I won’t be parted from her. Especially if the judge says she can’t stay.

When I get home, the dogs come to greet me, sniffing the grocery bags with interest. I have rib-eyes in there and they know.

“I’ll save you the scraps,” I tell them.

I’m surprised Maggie’s not home. She should have gotten back before me. I pull out my phone to see if she’s called. There’s nothing from her, but four missed calls from Wes.

“Fuck.”

I call him back. My heart hammers in my chest. He doesn’t answer and it goes to voice-mail. I phone Maggie and it doesn’t even ring, going directly to voice-mail. Pacing the den, I call Jane. No answer there either.

Stepping outside, I stare at the driveway, willing Maggie to appear, driving her van.

Where is she?

Then I recall the tracking app I put on her phone. I mutter a few words of thanks as I fumble with my phone. My hands are shaking but I manage to bring it up. The last reading was an hour ago, and the signal came from a road near the Little League.

I’m numb, imagining the worst. That she had a wreck. That she’s hurt. Or dead.

My phone rings. It’s Wes and I answer right away.

Instead of Wes, Maggie speaks. I sink to a chair and let out a long sigh of relief.

Her voice shakes as she explains that she’s calling from Wes’s phone because she got caught in a low water crossing by the baseball fields.

“Are you okay?” My voice cracks.

She doesn’t answer for a long moment and when she speaks, her voice is soft. “Yes.”

Wes comes on the line. “We didn’t want to leave a message. Maggie’s okay. She pulled Michael out of the van and he might have a dislocated shoulder.”

I listen as Wes tells me about the over-flowing river that swept Maggie’s van away and she got Michael out but the van’s gone. While he speaks, I picture the dry creek bed near the park. When it rains, the creek rises fast. The worst part is that it’s around a bend in the road and it’s easy to drive around the corner and end up in the middle of a flooded road.

Wes tells me they’re five minutes away and he ends the call.

Nervously, I wait, standing on the driveway. She’s fine, I tell myself. My Maggie’s fine.

My brother drives up, parks the car and I practically tear off the passenger door. Maggie’s out and in my arms without a word. Water from her soaked clothing seeps into mine, but I don’t care. Mud streaks her neck and hands. I kiss her, just a gentle kiss because she’s crying.

Wrapping her arms around my neck, she clings to me as I turn to Wes. His brows lift but he doesn’t say anything about Maggie and me wrapped around each other.

“How’s Michael?”

“Jane called and said it’s sprained, not dislocated. He was too upset to talk to the ER docs, so they took an x-ray.”

Wes looks completely worn out. His face is pale, but he manages a smile. “Maggie saved him. He panicked. The van was stalled and the water rising. He couldn’t move.”

The image of the van surrounded by the rising river makes my mouth dry. I break out in a sweat.

“The van’s gone,” he says quietly. He closes his eyes, draws a deep breath and then opens them again.

When my parents and sister died, Wes could barely function. For months, he stayed in my parent’s house, curtains drawn. He drank, a lot. Their death hit me hard too, but instead of staying home, I threw myself into work. Hard work. Wearing myself out at the garage helped me cope. Now, with this new emergency, I want to tell him get it together, but I don’t, probably because I’m shaken up too.

“Go on, Wes,” I tell him as if I’m the older brother. “Go to the hospital to help Jane.”

Standing by his car, his eyes dart to Maggie. She’s holding onto me like she never wants to let go. It’s right where I want her, for now. This evening I’ll want her in the same position but, naked and in my bed. I stroke her back, down the length of her tangled, muddy hair.

“Maggie and I aren’t pretending anymore,” I tell him.

His eyes widen and then he clenches his jaw. He doesn’t know how to respond to that. If he agrees he’ll wonder if he did the right thing by Maggie. If he fights me on this, he’ll wonder the same. Damned if he does, damned if he doesn’t.

“There isn’t anything I won’t do for her, but she’s mine now,” I tell him.

Maggie tightens her hold on me.

He nods. Silence stretches between us until he sighs, gets in the car and drives off.

Taking Maggie’s hand, I pull her into the house and take her to my bathroom.

“I was s-so scared. Not for me, but for Michael,” she whispers.

Her teeth chatter. I don’t want to talk about the accident or what almost happened. I just want to take care of her and make her feel safe. She protests a little when I start to undress her. Without arguing, I snap off the light and continue in the dark.

Could this frighten her? If she’d had bad experiences in her past, it might. I work slowly. Methodically. Not letting my gaze take in too much of her. When she’s down to her bra and panties, she lifts her eyes to mine.

“I can finish, Trig.”

I can’t help feeling disappointed but I step out of the bathroom to give her some privacy. Cracking open a beer, I listen to the shower and think how relieved I am that she’s okay. That she’s here with me. She’s pushing me away, but that’s okay. Last night and this morning we kissed and that’s progress. Huge progress.

The water turns off but I don’t go to her right away. I finish my beer and watch the sun set. When the first evening star twinkles, I wander back into the house. She’s not in her room, or the bathroom. I find her sleeping. On my bed. Wearing my bathrobe. Resting beneath the blankets, damp hair cast across the pillows, she looks sweet and so damn young. I force myself to leave the room. If I stay and watch her, I’ll be tempted to lie down beside her.

One thing’s for sure, I decide as I head back to the kitchen. From now on, my wife is sleeping where she belongs. By my side.