Maggie's Five ...the first in a LOVE story (17 page)

“
Hey,
you’re up. Morning back,” he offers with a quick glance, smiling
like he’s happy to see me. He starts to crack a few eggs into the
hot pan he is working over.

“
Morning back?” My brows meet my hair line while I attempt to
decipher what he means. There’s a bell ringing somewhere, I just
can’t put my finger on it.

“
Morning front be better?” he asks over his shoulder with a
grin, laughing when he sees the confused expression on my face. “I
like what you’ve done to the place,” he continues, waving the
spatula around, splattering raw egg mix over the floor and counter.
“Going for an original kind of minimalistic look?” His expression
broadens to show perfect teeth, but it doesn’t quite manage to
reach his eyes.

I playfully rub
my chin the way every man on earth has done at one time or another,
and counter with, “Did you leave your razor in New York?” Luke’s a
much safer topic than having to face my breakdown.

He copies my
action laughing, “What? It works for Chris Hemsworth. He kinda
looks like me, don’t you think?”

He does
actually… though maybe he’s a tad more muscular than Luke. But
there’s no
way
I’m telling him that.

“
Oh
honey, Thor you are not,” I say with an exaggerated frown I have to
work at keeping in place. Shaking my head, I step up to see what
he’s cooking. The banter feels odd after months of sorrow and
self-pity, but it’s enlightening. I like it.

“
You
don’t think?” he laughs harder, pressing a kiss to my forehead and
continuing to scrambling the eggs.

“
No
Luke, I know.” I’m laughing with him now, hoping it sounds as
genuine and normal as it feels.

My heart pounds
heavy, bruising thumps in my chest. It’s astonishing how natural it
is to have him here. And how scary, at the same time.

“
I’d
do anything, you know,” I whisper, my smile faltering. Luke turns
the heat off the pan and faces me, waiting silently because he
knows there’s more coming. “To have them back,” I explain
quietly.

I run my fingers
through his hair, capturing some between my forefinger and thumb
before tucking the lock behind his ear.

“
It
looks good on you longer.” I say lowly, changing the subject
because I’m to chicken too say what I’m really thinking. That
having him in my kitchen reminds me of Brendan, of my children, of
us as a family. They’re gone and I’m still okay with him
here.

“
I
know, Maggie Mae. I felt the same when I lost Sophie,” Luke says
sadly, reading my mind.

He lifts the
frying pan off the burner and spoons the eggs over the toast that’s
waiting on two plates on the breakfast bench. I show him the
respect he’s given me time and again and don’t probe him about who
Sophie is, though I’m curious to know.

I’m ashamed to
have to ask but I truly don’t know the answer and I’ve been
wondering about it all morning.

Nervously biting
on my thumb nail I ask “How long have you been here,
Luke?”

“
Since Christmas.”

“
No,
I mean how long has it been since you came back from New York?” I
ask, looking anywhere but at him,

I honestly can’t
remember. After that first morning I woke up in his arms and then
Red calling me… I’ve lost time. I don’t remember it getting so
cold. I don’t remember much at all.

“
Maggie,” he sighs out, not wanting to answer.

Oh God. “You
should leave, Luke.”

Luke returns the
hot pan to the stove top, and wraps me in his arms to stop me from
leaving the room.

Feathering his
lips over my forehead, he takes a breath. “You wanna know why I
moved from San Diego to New York?” he asks quietly, not waiting for
my answer. “Because I ran out of women to fuck. I ran out of bars
to drink dry and I ran out of friends to abuse the shit out of.
When my wife died, it fucked me over so badly, I wanted everybody
else to be fucked over too.”

I try to pull
away to see if what he’s saying is the truth, because this is Luke
here, perfect Luke who always knows the right thing to say, or just
what I need. When he tightens his grip, I settle on shaking my head
in disbelief instead.

“
It’s
true, Maggie. Losing Sophie broke me, so I know okay? I
know.”

“
I’m
a revolting person Luke-”

“
No
you’re not, Maggie Mae. You’re a grieving person who’s too afraid
to grieve.”

I dig my fingers
into his back, desperate to grab hold of something tangible and
solid. “I love my family.”

“
Of
course you do, and you should. Never be afraid of that, baby. Love
them as hard as you can Maggie Mae. Love them big,” he implores,
pressing a firm kiss to my hair and embracing me until I can barely
breathe.

Whether the
hug’s for me or him, I cannot say. Nor do I care. I’ll take it
anyway.

After one last
squeeze, Luke loosens his arms. “So, is that a ‘no’ to me being the
next Thor then? Captain America?” Luke asks, raising his eyebrows,
his smile reappearing.

I can’t stop my
eyes from rolling. “Don’t even think about trying for Iron Man.
That job is so taken,”

“
What?” Luke questions in mock horror, passing me a knife and
fork and taking a plate off the counter “Are you suggesting Robert
Downy Jr is better looking than me?”

“
Yes,” I scoff teasingly, “but I’m so much more concerned
about you knowing who all these people are.”

“
Are
you kidding me? The Avengers are awesome.” Luke pulls out the chair
he usually sits in and places the plate on the table, twisting at
his waist to take the other plate from me and places it next to his
and drags the seat back for me before sitting in his
place.

Smiling at me
when I join him, he takes a stab at the scramble, holding up his
fork. “Good eggs, huh?”

“
Great eggs,” I agree without even trying them. They could
taste like rubber for all I care and they would still be the best
eggs I’ve ever eaten.

Luke smiles.
“But we seriously need to shop. Man, that milk is something else,”
he grimaces, knocking into my shoulder as he takes another fork
full of the best eggs I’ve never tasted.

“
Laptop?”

Luke points to
the end of the table, giving me his okay. Standing, I reach over to
pull it between us, then type in the name of a popular chain
supermarket into the server, and Hey Presto, we’re online
shopping.

Luke and I end
up in an endless disagreement that has me clutching at my sides
from laughter. Arguing over what products we need, what brands are
the best and how much chocolate is too much. As if there is such a
thing. We compromise - I get to double order on the Rocky Road, and
Luke gets to double order on a particular espresso he is addicted
to; going so far as purchasing a new coffee machine to go with the
capsules. We end up with a list so long that there’s no way we are
going to be able to get through it all in a month of
Sundays.

Luke’s standing
when my fingers zero in on the keyboard again to add a tub of
chocolate chip ice cream. He catches me and gently smacks my hand
away from the keys with an incredulous expression. He can’t believe
his eyes. Silly man, we’re talking girl and ice cream here. I go at
them again, and again he flicks me away. Naturally I go straight
back at them because I can (and because Luke keeps pulling the
funniest expressions) and he swipes, again, which in turn leads
into one of those silly hand-slapping fights. When I try for a
final time, we’re tangling hands and wrists and arms until he has
me in a bear hug.

Laughing, he
pulls me out of my seat as I make one last effort for extra
ice-cream and accidently click on an open Tab, “Wellington Women’s
Shelter.” I read out loud, but before I get the chance to ask him
about it, he’s picking me up and tossing me over his shoulder,
holding me out of the way so he can hit the go button on the
shopping order. He snaps down the laptop lid to seal the deal, then
carries me over to the sink.

He lowers me
carefully, turns on the taps and points to the water, “You wash.
I’ll dry. And don’t even think about trying for the laptop again,”
he tells me, smiling with his entire face. He looks relieved,
relaxed.

“
Bossy,” I respond teasingly, opening the cupboard to retrieve
the liquid and squirting too much into the filling sink as Luke
places our dirty plates in the water with a raised
eyebrow.

“
Sure
you used enough?”

“
It’s
my thing you know?”

“
Dishwashing liquid?”

“
Yep.” I knock into his side playfully and dive in for the
first thing I lay my hands on. “So what happened after you moved to
the States?” I’m surprised by my question, not having thought it
through first. I have been curious, but felt it wasn’t my place to
delve into his personal life, especially because I think there’s a
whole world of pain hidden back there. Not that I’ve been the
perfect host… more like a self-absorbed hoe-bag sucking down
anything I can get my hands on to hide from the truth.

“
Well, you know Dad got that job transfer with a hotel, yeah?
That’s why we left in the first place,” he starts, with me nodding
my head in acknowledgement. “I got a job working there, went to
college, got my degree. Then I went to work in the office with my
old man, until we decided to try it alone.” Shrugging, he mulls
over his thoughts. “Got married, she died. And that’s about it,” he
finishes, shrugging again in conclusion. “You?”

“
Pretty much the same as you. I ended up working at the local
library. Do you still surf?” I ask, thinking back to when we were
younger and spent hours down at the beach, the guys out on the
water, us girls sunning it up, pretending to watch wave after
countess wave, then, of course, praising their epic
skills.

“
Surf? There aren’t too many waves in New York City, Maggie
Mae,” Luke chuckles, turning the dinner plate round in circles as
he dries it.

“
Shame. You were good.”

“
Yeah?” He’s full on laughing now. “How could you tell with
Brendan’s tongue down your throat?”

“
Shut
up,” I snicker, smacking a soapy hand over his chest… pushing back
the urge to cower at the mention of Brendan’s name.

Chapter 11

I’M WALKING IN from the laundry after
hanging out our clothes in order - pants/bottoms, tops, socks and
underwear. I’ve actually hung it out in the person like I used to
as well, as in all Luke’s pants/ tops/ jocks/ socks and then all of
mine. Given that it’s only the two of us, it hasn’t taken very
long. It still felt good to have some normality back,
though.

When I used to
do the washing for Brendan and the girls, I’d also put them away by
the person. Knowing me, I’ll do the same with Luke’s when they’re
dry.

Stopping in the
kitchen, I start to watch Luke preparing our lunch when the phone
starts ringing, catching me by surprise because it’s the house line
and not one of our mobiles.

Luke drops the
turkey slices and reaches over the counter for the
receiver.

“
Hello?” There’s a pause as the caller speaks. “Oh, hi Joe,
yes she’s here. Just a moment, please.”

I raise my
eyebrows in question. Luke shrugs in reply and hands over the
receiver.

“
Hello?”

I hear three
clicks before he speaks. “Good morning, Margaret. This is Joe
Reynolds. I trust you are well.” He clicks his tongue three times
and then there is a dull tapping noise. I count three and then
reply.

“
Hello Joe, yes thank you. And yourself?”

He clicks three
times. “Yes, thank you Margaret. As we discussed during our last
meeting, I have been monitoring your finances - primarily your
expense account - and have come to learn that you have depleted
your current funds.” He clicks three times and then the faint
tapping in the back ground again. He’s referring to my blowouts
with Red. What do I say to that?
‘Oh, not to worry, I spent the
lot on booze and my drug habit?’

“
Um,
are you going to be checking on all of my expenses, Joe?” Because
they’re really none of your business.

He clicks his
tongue three times. “No, of course not Margaret, but Brendan did
ask me to ensure you had a sufficient amount of money to see that
you remain financially stable at all times.” Three clicks; three
distant taps.

“
But
Brendan isn’t here anymore, Joe.”

I hear his
tongue click. “Yes Margaret, I’m fully aware of that. I am,
however, wondering if you require additional funds to cover your
personal expenses for the remainder of the month. Or if you require
a permanent increase.” Three clicks; three taps.

Oh… Bum. He’s
being nice, and I’m not.

“
That’s very kind of you, Joe. Thank you. When’s my account
due to be replenished?” I ask using his choice of words, annoyed
with myself for not knowing what my money’s doing, which is never
going to happen again.