Maggie's Five ...the first in a LOVE story (27 page)

Opening my eyes,
I tell Luke what I should have told him a long time ago. “I love
you, Luke Andrews.” If I could wrap him up in my heart to show him
how much I love him, I would.

“
I
know, baby. But it sure is nice to hear you say it. I love you
back.”

“
Not
front?” The door sweeps open before Luke can reply, but I’ve
surprised him with the recollection. A weekend at a beach house
filled with people and a naked morning surfing.

“
Well, hello there Maggie. Glad ye finally decided to join
us.” Avery Baxter’s Scottish accent warms the room.

“
Avery?” My attempt to lift my head is short-lived when a
pounding in my brain forces me to let it drop back to the
pillow.

“
The
one and only.” She smiles. “I’ve got your test results for you,”
she offers, holding up a cardboard folder. “According to this you
were heavily drugged – well, we already knew that right?” she says
dryly, clearly annoyed.

“
Did
they manage to find him Luke, do you know?”

Luke shakes his
head, sitting up higher but staying on the bed next to me. “No, not
that I know of unfortunately, Avery.”

She tisks.
“Well, at least I have some good news for you. All your blood
work’s clear, no unwelcome finds in there...” she begins, pausing
while she flicks through a couple of pages “… eh, I gotta say you
got lucky on this one.” She nods, then sit on the edge of the bed
with a grin that’s warm and genuine. “Given that the contraceptive
implant in your arm should have been replaced back in July…” she
says, tucking in her chin while pausing to give us time to digest
what she is saying, “the baby seems to be in perfect health as far
as we can tell. But you should still go and see your OB/GYN to get
an ultra sound to be safe.”

My head whips to
Luke at break-neck speed. He’s wearing the exact same expression I
can feel on my face.

Baby?

He’s not
smiling, he’s not anything. I thought it was possible. I’ve been
feeling a little off lately, and I didn’t mind the smell of the
paint when it normally makes me headachy. But I didn’t know for
sure so I didn’t say anything. I wanted to be sure; I wanted
everything to be perfect to tell him.

Avery’s patting
my leg. Luke’s straightening, standing. He’s shaking his head. And
the look on his face…

“
Luke?”

He’s walking
backwards, “Luke?”

He’s opening
door, “I’m… it’s fine Maggie.”

Fine.

His phone is
out… he’s holding it to his ear… “I’d like to talk to someone
about-”

The door
closes.

He’s
gone.

Epilogue

Luke

“
COME ON CARTER. Let’s go inside so we can see
Mummy.”

Man my boy is so
on – like all the time, on. I don’t know how many times I’ve looked
for an off switch and haven’t been able to find one.

“
Coomming Daadd.” Carter calls, running rings around Jon’s’
legs. Or it could be the other way round. It’s hard to
tell.

“
Jon.
Come on man, stop encouraging my boy.”

“
No
way bro,” Jon laughs, almost tripping over as Carter weaves between
his legs. “This kid is way too much fun.” He squats down. “Jump on
bud.” Carter does straight away. Gotta say it’s a little annoying
the way Carter does that, does whatever Jon asks him to do. Every
freaking time.

Carter secured
in place, Jon leaps into the air and spins. It’s hard to tell who’s
the bigger kid is - Jon or the actual kid. Both of them laugh their
heads off, Carter begging for him to do it again. Naturally he
does.

The lift doors
open and Jon walks through like he’s been waiting on me and leans
to the side. Carter lifts his big green eyes to me in
question.

“
Number four, buddy.”

He counts
slowly, “One, two, fwee, four! This one Daddy?”

“
That’s the one, son.” He counts them again, mouthing the
words this time and presses the button.

The room’s
packed full. My eyes instantly lock onto Maggie’s as I pass the
foot of the bed, extending an arm to shake Jon’s father’s hand. “Mr
and Mrs Cartwright. Good to see you.” I peck Mrs Cartwright’s
cheek.

“
She’s beautiful Luke,” she coos, staring down at the snugly
wrapped, day old bundle in her arms.

I bend to kiss
my baby’s delicate head. “Who?” I chuckle. “My wife or my
daughter?” Mrs Cartwright smacks my arm playfully, laughing. I cup
my little girls’ cheek, then go sit by Maggie and kiss her the way
that mouth of hers is meant to be kissed. In public,
anyway.

“
Hey,
Maggie Mae Andrews,” I say lowly so no one else can
hear.

“
Hey
back Lucas Andrews.” My wife smiles big at me, all the way to her
incredible green eyes.

Fuck I love this
woman.

the end of… the
first in a LOVE story

Thanks

FIRSTLY, THANK YOU for taking the
time to share in Maggie and Luke’s story. I hope you enjoyed their
journey as much as I did writing it.

No wait – More.
I hope you liked it more.

That would be
way better.

If you enjoyed
my words I’d love it if you could spare a few minutes to share your
thoughts with your favourite retailer.

THANKS ALSO TO
all of you wonderful wonders – you know who you are – for helping
me get the words on the page and in the right order. It was more
challenging than you think.

To Kerrie and
Karen, for reading my stuff first… and second… and
third…

Thanks to my
mum, who only ever reads cookbooks but tells me how great my stuff
is anyway. My dad, who hits me upside the back of my head every
time he walks past me, with a smirk on his face and that look in
his eyes.

Thank you,
Margaret, for putting up with my tirade of endless questions (even
the silly ones) and Heather, for being such a wonderful and patient
proof-reader and for your guidance.

Thanks and
special giggly girly hugs to the super talented Sally Syle, from
Graphics by Sally for bringing Maggie’s front cover to
life.

Thanks and more
hugs to Meg Hellyer, for your magic editing skills. The woman is
crazy good with the words.

MEMBERS OF MY
family have been blessed with the annoyingly frustrating condition
known as Dyslexia. Others, bless their cotton socks (like me) were
the lucky ones to inherit Dysgraphia. He’s kind of Dyslexia’s less
popular, less cooler cousin. Both are real and maddening conditions
with inconspicuous symptoms. So if you know someone who comes
across as bright enough, is good for a conversation, tends to get
their words down in the incorrect order, skips the odd letter, or
puts them down all wrong, can’t spell of the life of them, or may
get cramps running up their writing arm for no apparent reason,
(the Play Station doesn’t count.) it may be worth a look see. You
never know what you’ll find.

Books
by Sandra Fitzgerald

Coming Soon

Luke… the second
in a LOVE story.

Luke’s Five… the
third in a LOVE story.

Connect with me

I’M JUST A girl who had a dream
and turned that dream into words.

I’m a mum and a
wife, a provider of Band-Aids and giver of hugs. If you’d like to
get to know me better or have a chat you can find me
here:

Blog:
sandrafitzgerald-author.weebly.com

Or
here:

Twitter:
https://twitter.com/sandrafitz05

Or
here:

Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/sandra.fitzgerald.12327

Or
here

Pinterest:
http://www.pinterest.com/fitzgerald1915/

Or…

…
If
you’d like to get to know Luke a little better, maybe read a sneaky
peek of his story…

Luke

Chapter I

THE GUYS HAVE
stolen two computer chairs (you know the ones with the wheels) out
of a teacher’s staff room, off the senior’s common area. It’s not
supervised all that much - especially this time of the year -
because it’s the
seniors
common. Apparently we’re supposed
to be responsible.

Go
figure.

The wanna-be
thieves are trying to sneak the goods past buildings we’re done
with, the ones still filled with middle and junior school
students.

If the dickheads
stopped with all the whistling and yelling and actually going
inside the classrooms, they’d probably find they wouldn’t have to
dodge so many teachers.

But then again,
where’s the fun in that?

They’re racing
up the outer boundary, through the teachers’ car park, across the
pothole-riddled oval, to the top of the freakishly steep hill known
ingeniously as: The Hill, a regular contender on a long list of
homeroom topics. Our teachers are constantly warning us not to ride
down it and to keep out of the front yard of the house at the end
of the intersection. The place belongs to some old dude with a
walking stick and pretty decent aim for a senior
citizen.

The sun’s
bright, when it finds its way out from behind the clouds; the
breeze fluctuates from the warmer side, too fresh and a little
gusty - typical weather for November.

God I’m going to
miss it. I love Melbourne. Granted, I’ve never lived anywhere else,
but this is what I know. All my family are here, my friends are
here… and she’s here… walking in my direction in the tightest
fuucc-

“
Hey,
Maggie,” I manage, tipping my chin all casual like, as if I’m not
thinking about how great her tits look in that top.

“
Hi,
Luke.” Maggie Bateman, star of my wet dreams and all round hot
chick, smiles with a cute as fuck grin that goes all the way to her
eyes. “How’s Muck up Day? Looks like you’ve missed out on the
shaving cream.” She checks out my clothes. I check Maggie
out.

Don’t judge. The
chick’s hot. Long red hair, bright green eyes, mouth made for
sucking on, or with, or both. A tight body that has it all in the
right places.

I wet my
suddenly dry lips. “You’ll be the one dodging the foam in a couple
of years.”

“
I
know right?” Her already big green eyes widen, and then she
grimaces. “Got the two big ones to get through first
though.”

One of my
shoulders lifts, shrugging off her comment. “Nah, a girl as smart
as you? Too easy.”

I’m full of shit
right now. The last two years have been hard and I’ve had a lot of
help. Maggie’s right. She’s a smart chick, but yeah, she’s going to
feel it like the rest of us.

“
You’re sweet for saying that, but I think we both know it’s
not true.”

She thinks I’m
sweet? Nice. I wonder…? And what have I got to lose, besides
nothing?

Stepping closer,
not so we’re touching, but not far off, I put on my best
I-want-in-your-pants smirk, the one I am pretty sure works more
often than not. I deepen my voice. “So what are you up for
later?”

Her brows cross
and her smile falters, thinking through my question. Yeah, I know
what I said and the innuendo that goes with it. And yeah, I know
she has a boyfriend. But come on, I’ve had a massive crush on this
girl for nearly as long as I’ve known what hormones, pimples and
spontaneous erections are.

Granted I was in
middle school and smiling around braces when I started to see her
as part of the opposite sex. And yeah, thanks, I realise that made
her like… really young. But it didn’t seem so pervy at the
time.

Unfortunately
for me, Maggie came fully equipped with a ready-made boyfriend.
Seriously. Who starts high school with a freaking
boyfriend
?

“
We’re all headed to the back beach for the weekend. You up
for it?” my mouth says before my brain can process anything that
isn’t Maggie Bateman related.

“
Oh.
Brendan didn’t mention anything.”

Brendan hasn’t
mentioned it because I haven’t actually organised it yet. I blurted
without thinking and now I’m hoping my parents will be easy enough
to convince. It shouldn’t take too much begging, after I accidently
remind them how I’m missing out on the end of year trip all my
friends are going on because we have to fly out on
Monday.

Clockwork
Towers, the hotel chain that’s piped so much smoke up my dad’s arse
for the last six months, he’s now able to hold a conversation with
an Apache every time he farts, has somehow convinced him that he
needs to start at the beginning of December, before the Christmas
and New Year’s rush.

Naturally Dad
agreed without talking to us first.