Maggie's Five ...the first in a LOVE story (22 page)

He’s being all
happy and elusive weird wandering and I’m being a grumpy bitch. I
can’t seem to get myself out of my
Mattie’s birthday funk
and am continually taking it out on the one good thing I actually
have that’s living. I think I may be jealous of his ability to find
joy so much easier than I can.

I bitch him out,
yet Luke smiles patiently and kisses me. I get grumpy at something
stupid - Luke just comes right on over and hugs and kisses me. And
that just makes me bitchier. And makes Luke smile and hold me with
even more patience.

See, he’s a
freaky weirdo.

I’m sitting at
the kitchen table reading the paper, not listening to him traipsing
up and down the stairs.

Like I didn’t
start over thinking when he left the room every time I entered it
earlier. Just like I didn’t care when I asked him a question and he
ummed and ahhed, gnawing on his bottom lip, lost in his
thoughts.

I was certainly
okay when he became engrossed in his nerdy year old iPhone - that’s
not even gold - for the next hour, muttering and yes, smiling, with
far too little lip action. He even turned his back on me when I
went to hit him with one. He keeps doing that and I’ll hit him with
one alright.

See? I’m an
absolute delight to be around today.

God, I’m
hopeless.

Luke’s walking
into the kitchen from the laundry, “Hey, Maggie Mae?”

“
Yup.”

Bitchy, bitchy,
bitch. Ugh, hopeless.

He stops in his
tracks. “I was - hey, what’s up?” Eyes softening and smiling with
one side of his mouth when he takes in my expression, he comes over
and hugs the side of my head to his stomach.

Pretending he’s
not holding me gently and that I don’t like it so much, I turn the
page on the paper with a snap and rip the top corner.

“
Nothin’, what’s up with you?” I reply shortly, then close my
eyes in frustration. Maybe I’m hormonal as well as pining for my
baby.

“
Umm,
okay… I was just wondering if you realised your garage is
empty?”

“
Uh-huh.”

Crap, I forgot I
haven’t told Luke about the
great car give-away
.

“
You
don’t have a car in your garage, babe.”

“
If
that’s a metaphor for you wanting to put your car in my garage, you
can stop talking right about…” I pause, making a point of looking
at my left wrist that doesn’t have a watch on it,
“…now.”

“
What?” Luke’s brows cross in confusion, “Hah, nice one. Kinda
wish I thought of it now.” He wraps me in a hug from behind. “But
seriously Maggie Mae, where’s your car?”

“
My
car?” I do not want to talk about this right now. Or ever, for that
matter. I had a moment. We all have them at times. So mine was a
whopper, what’s the big deal? Time to deflect some more. “What kind
of question is that?” Shaking my head, I return my attention to the
latest gossip going on around town, whispering “weirdo” under my
breath.

“
Did
you just call me a Weirdo?”

Note to self:
practice whispering under breath.

“
No,
why would I say something like that?” mouthing ‘weirdo’ this
time.

Combing his
fingers through my hair, Luke coaxes my head back so I’m looking at
him upside down. He bends and kisses me gently, taking my breath
away with the caress of his tongue, the softness of his lips,
smoothness of his cleanly shaven face, and the tenderness he uses
with me… “Babe, the car?”

Huh. “What about
it?”

“
Where is it?”

“
Gone?”

“
Gone?” Luke repeats in confusion.

“
I
gave it away okay,” I snap. “Sheesh.” I pull away and straighten to
look back to my very interesting paper. I’m embarrassed and the
more I think about what I did, the more foolish I feel.

“
Baby, please, can we talk about this?” He’s concerned for me,
but it’s the dragging of the chair on the floor boards that has me
turning to him and glaring from his face to the non-existent
scratches on the timber.

Rolling my eyes
at his expectant expression, I finally give in. “I went out to
dinner, but the people there forgot I was invited and I went a
little…” I pause, circling my index finger in the air around my
temple to emphasise my crazy, “There was a young pregnant couple
leaving in a car that was ready to break down… so I… kind of, you
know… gave it to them.”

“
You
gave your car away to a random couple because they were the first
people you saw?” he asks with a mixture of shock and
affection.

“
And
because they needed it more than me. If you don’t like the answer
baby, don’t ask the question.” God I sound like my
mother.

“
Fuck
that’s hot babe,” Luke whispers, staring at my mouth.

“
I
just confessed to a moment of loony and you’re telling me that’s it
hot?”

“
No.
You calling me ‘baby’ is hot,” he breathes, leaning in to kiss
me.

“
Really?” I cry in disbelief, stopping him in his tracks with
a hand to his chest.

“
You’re right, you’re right, sorry. Did you want to talk about
it - we should talk about this.”

“
Not-”

“
Good.” Luke’s mouth cuts off anything else I may have thought
intelligent before I felt his lips, his tongue… his…
mmm…

Just when things
are starting to get interesting, he pulls back abruptly. “We need
to go out. And we’re going to talk about the whole giving away the
car thing.” he says briskly, nearly giving me whiplash with the
change in him.

“
Are
you kidding me?”

“
Nope, and for the record, your reaction to that dinner may
have leaned a little to the left of loony, but… giving your car
away? Nah baby, gutsy and selfless. It takes a lot to give that
much away for nothing in return.”

“
But
it wasn’t the car I was giving away Luke.” I admit quietly. “It was
all the memories that came with it.”

“
Really?”

“
Really,” I tell my knees.

He lifts my chin
with a finger. “And you can admit all of that without shedding a
tear or ending up cowering in a corner? Sounds generous and good to
me babe. Now, anything else wrong with that particular
car?”

Standing from my
chair, my heart pounds with the realisation: I’m still standing. I
haven’t been brought to my knees and it’s good. We’re
good.

This Luke is
adorable, I can’t help but play along with him. “It had too many
doors and a roof,” I reply inanely, unable to come up with anything
wittier. I shuffle so I’m straddling his lap, and kiss and nip at
his neck.

Groaning, he
encircles my hips with his strong hands and hoists me higher to
feel his rising length growing under me. “The… what?”

“
Mm-hmm,” I agree and continue kissing him. What were we
talking about?

The next thing I
know, I’m in the air and being propped on the table. Luke’s kissing
me frantically; I’m tearing at his clothes. He leans further and
shoves all the papers and his laptop out of the way.

His top lands on
the pile, mine’s a close second. Luke’s got the button popped and
the zip down on my jeans, tugging at the denim to leave it hanging
off of my leg. I’m pulling at his hair, his fingers are rubbing my
swollen nib, heating my body and sending me higher, and higher and-
“God, oh my…
God
.”

I need him. I
need him in me now.

I have his pants
down and my hand around his hard length in seconds.

God he’s
perfect. Thick, long, smooth and solid perfect.

I guide him in
then let go of his shaft, falling back as I try to remember how to
breathe. He’s increasing speed, holding my hips in place and
pumping me to another orgasm. And it’s hot and wonderful and so, so
good.

Damn, I like
kitchen sex with Luke.

LUKE DISAPPEARED
HOURS ago, promising not to be any longer than ‘necessary’.
Necessary for what exactly, I don’t know. I’ve gotten much better
at the whole insecure
he’s going to leave me one day
thing.
I know I’ve been over reacting - that’s insecurity for you, I
guess. I don’t want him to leave, I can’t stop him either. I don’t
think, well, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to anyway. So we’re
good. Great even.

Brendan, Ella
and Mattie didn’t want to leave…

No, I know they
didn’t. But they also didn’t have a choice.

I’ve learnt to
accept it; I’ve even managed to say so out loud. Of course,
logically I’ve always known they didn’t choose to die, but now I’m
actually able to believe it.

I’m sad, of
course I am. A part of me will be sad for the rest of my life and
miss them to the point of pain.

I guess the
difference is now I’m finally ready to forgive Brendan, to stop
being so angry with him for not taking better care of our children.
Again I know it’s unfair; then again, grief isn’t logical or
rational, or sensible.

It’s not fair to
be the only one left behind. It’s not fair to have to find a way to
re-create yourself when you were happy with the original creation.
But that’s what I’m doing with Luke, because for some crazy reason,
the man seems to like me and I’m trying to learn to exhale for him,
‘cause I kind of like him too.

He’s been
working from our kitchen ever since he came back, which equates to
far too long to be away from the office
. He’s got the room
pretty well set up - printer, fax, laptop, coffee at his fingertips
with the odd treat - but he really does need his own space. And by
‘own space’
I actually mean here, just a little less right
in the middle of our house.

That’s why I’m
standing in the doorway to the study like I’m casing the joint.
It’s still in disarray from Cyclone Maggie and, not meaning to
sound like I’m patting myself on the back or anything, but I did do
a darn good job at destroying the place. It is a mess. I pick up
the chair, settling it back onto its wheels, chuckling. Not the
start out laughing end up crying
kind either - this one’s
the real deal.

A freaking
ergonomic chair. Who on earth actually buys an ergonomic chair?
They’re odd looking and match nothing, yet I still have one in my
hot little hands. Brendan, that’s who - and yes I laughed at him
when he brought the ugly thing home. He was always so practical,
researched everything to the absolute, dotted all the I’s and
crossed all the T’s. It was one of my favourite things about him
and so easy to make fun of.

I roll the chair
back into place and reach for the desk lamp when I notice Luke
standing in the doorway smiling at me.

“
Hey,
you’re back,” I say, resting the lamp on the desk and looking
around. “Thought you could use more space,” I explain with a
shrug.

“
Want
a hand?” Luke asks, searching my face the way he does when he’s
trying to decipher my thoughts.

“
Always,” biting on my lip to stop the smile, “You can start
on the broken glass.” It’s a horrible job, so I’m secretly hoping
he won’t tell me that he suddenly remembers a very important thing
he had to do in the other room.

Quirking a brow,
he’s so on to me. “I’ll get the broom,” he replies in his deep
timbre, shaking his head as he heads to the laundry. I still see
the smile he’s trying to hide.

Damaged picture
frames crunch under my feet as I work my way to the bookshelf,
picking up books and torn pictures, inspecting them to see if they
are salvageable. Some are, and go back on the shelf, but
unfortunately most aren’t. It breaks my heart to have to throw away
the masterpieces created by Mattie and Ella. I guess that’s what I
get for throwing a size twenty seven tantrum.

“
Hey,
don’t throw them away Maggie Mae.” Luke rests the broom and pan by
the wall and looks to my hands.

“
They’re ruined Luke,” I reply resigned, taking another look
at the brightly coloured streaks that represent a minute in a
lifetime.

“
It
doesn’t matter,” he says, taking the torn pages. “We’ll put them
away for now and when inspiration hits, we can turn them into
something else. Okay?” I shake my head and look into his sombre
blue eye, but concede. I don’t know what can be done with them, but
I’m happy to box them up rather than toss them out.

“
Thank you,” I whisper, passing him a few more
pages.

He cups my face
with his free hand. “Nothing to thank me for babe.”

“
There’s plenty to thank you for Luke. You’ve saved my life.
You’re helping me learn how to exhale.” I stand on the tips of my
toes, blinking watery tears free, and wrap my arms around his neck.
“So thank you Luke, even though it’s not enough.”

“
You’re more than enough for me Maggie.” He kisses me, then
kisses me some more. “Now stop trying to get out of cleaning
because it’s going to work,” he chuckles against my lips. “You know
I’m okay with working in the kitchen, if you are.”