Maggie Moves On

by Lucy Score

“You can let him out, you know,” Sy’s future wife said, falling into the dog’s trap.

“One man’s garbage dump is another’s mountain of hidden potential,” Silas responded.

“What I hear you saying is that there’s a twenty percent chance that you’ll fall in love with this place and your handsome landscaper,” he said.

WHERE IS THE ADVENTURE IN FINDING ONESELF IF ONE USES SOMEONE ELSE’S MAP?

She was frowning but didn’t pull away from his touch. “Considering I don’t know what a finger steak is, that probably won’t be difficult.” Then she slipped her arm around his waist, and Silas decided life was pretty damn perfect. “Do you put fry sauce on finger steaks?” Maggie asked.

“Did I ever tell you that my heart skips a beat every time you walk toward me?” Silas said, flashing her a slow, panty-melting grin. “You should probably get that checked,” she said lightly. “Could be something serious.” “Oh, I sure hope so,” he drawled.

He leaned in dangerously close. “You’re my business, Maggie. Whether you like it or not. Accept it or not. That kiss last night makes you my business.”

He reached for her and caught her because she was off her game. Cupping her chin in his hand, he leaned in. “This is one of those signs from the universe I was telling you about. You tell me you feel like you can’t depend on anyone when really you’re too scared to ask for help. And now you’re paying for ignoring that sign with a busted-up toe and a pissed-off boyfriend.”

“Because I want to wake up with you in my bed. I want to be there when your eyes open. I want the first smile of your day to belong to me. I want to start my day touching you.”

“We’re not perfect. But we’re damn hard workers, Maggie. And what we’re trying to say is like recognizes like,” Mama B told her. “So whatever you are to our son, you’re someone special to us.”

“We own our vulnerabilities and our truths,” Blaire reminded Nirina. It had the ring of a family motto. “And we learn to love ourselves no matter what,” Mama B said, giving Maggie’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Pencil me in for that in-depth discussion of why you didn’t feel the need to tell your future husband about your family. Tonight.” “I might need reinforcements for that conversation,” she said, ignoring the husband bait.

Maggie blew out a breath and tried not to think of all the uncomfortable conversations she had to look forward to. This was why she liked her life the way it had been. Simple. Quiet. No one demanding to talk to her all the time.

“Listen up, next generation,” Mama B said, pointing her wineglass at each of them in turn. “Babies do not complete you. Babies do not make you a fully realized woman. Neither does a man. That’s a truth we all have to learn the hard way.”

“They’re planted deep, and that’s why they’ll survive no matter where I am. It’s you, Maggie. I’ve been waiting for you. Make the decision. Don’t just do what you’ve always done and call it a choice.”

She found Silas immediately. She always would. Because there was something that connected her to the tall, handsome landscaper staring at her. And she just had to accept it. She felt the buzz between them. The frustration. The need. The hurt. The way he looked like he was ready to devour her. The way she felt ready to be devoured.

“My mom said, ‘Maggie, that’s the way you do all the best things in life. You just run and jump and hope for the best. Just like that boy.’ Just like you, Silas.”