Must Love Flowers(45)

The movie was great. As they left the theater, Nick asked, “Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?”

Unwilling for Nick to assume she needed or wanted to spend time with him, she made up an excuse. “I should probably visit my dad.”

He arched his brows as though confused. “You have family in the area?”

“My dad,” she said, stating the obvious.

“Then what are you doing living with my mother?” He frowned disapprovingly, as though this news was a surprise, and not a pleasant one.

“That’s my business,” she said, “and none of yours.” She took exception to his reaction. How dare he insinuate she had something other than the best of intentions living with Joan.

“Seeing that it’s my mother, it is my business,” he challenged, studying her with a look that suggested suspicion.

Maggie stiffened and crossed her arms. No way was she going to spend time arguing with him. Everything had gone well to this point, and now Nick had ruined a perfectly good afternoon.

“Please take me home.”

“With pleasure,” he snapped back. “I’m just wondering which one. Your dad’s or my mother’s.”

She refused to answer.

The atmosphere in the truck as Nick drove to his family home was thick and tense.

Nick had barely turned off the engine when Maggie unbuckled her seatbelt and headed into the house.

“You’re back early,” Joan greeted, stepping out of the kitchen when Maggie returned. Her landlord seemed pleased with herself, matching the two of them up for the afternoon.

Nick barged in the door, following Maggie.

Joan looked from one to the other and seemed to instinctively recognize the tension between them.

“Mom,” Nick said, glaring at Maggie and then focusing his attention on his mother. “Did you know Maggie has family living in the area?”

“Yes.” She dried her hands on a terry-cloth towel. “What of it?”

“I want to know why she’s living with you and not her own father?”

“Did you ask her?”

He glowered at Maggie. “She said it wasn’t my business.”

“Well, that’s true. This doesn’t have anything to do with you, son. Her reasons are my concern and not yours.”

“It does concern me! You’re my mother, and without Dad here to look after you, I’m worried. I’ve heard of cases where someone helps another out of the goodness of their heart, and it comes back to bite them.”

“Oh Nick, you don’t need to worry about Maggie.”

“I would never…” Maggie immediately regretted opening her mouth, wanting to prove herself and realizing it was a lost cause. Her best response was silence. If nothing else, time would speak for itself.

Joan shook her head, revealing her disappointment and frustration with her son. “I hope you would trust my judgment, Nick. Having Maggie live with me has been a blessing. You’re off base here.”

“Then reassure me,” Nick said. “Why would she choose to live with you over her own family? Something’s up and I want to know what it is. If Dad was alive, would he approve of you taking a stranger into our home?”

Maggie had heard enough. Despite her determination to remain silent, she couldn’t anymore. “You’re impossible, do you know that? Frustrating and impossible. It was a bad idea to go out with you today, and I already regret it. There won’t be a second time.” With that, she headed up the stairs to the bedroom that had once been his, then turned around and added, “For someone who is supposedly smart, you can be incredibly stupid.”

Continuing up the staircase, Maggie wished with all her heart she would have taken Steve’s room instead. Angry as she was, she decided to switch bedrooms. Joan wouldn’t care. Even sleeping in a room that had once been Nick’s was more irritation than she needed.

With her door closed, Maggie didn’t hear the discussion between Nick and Joan, and she was grateful to be left out of it. She paced for several minutes until her temper cooled.



* * *



—

At around six, Joan called Maggie to dinner. The buttered, salty popcorn that had been a rare treat hadn’t settled well in her stomach, no thanks to Nick and his accusations. She came downstairs, grateful to find he’d left.

Joan was busy getting out bowls from the cupboard.

Maggie stopped her. “I’m not hungry, but thank you.”

Joan frowned and studied Maggie. She’d set two places at the table, and a kettle of stew in a cast-iron skillet simmered on the stove.

Any other time, Maggie would have enjoyed the meal. It was perfect for such a dreary Sunday afternoon.

“I know Nick upset you,” Joan said. “I apologize for the things he said. I’ve rarely seen him jump to conclusions like this.” Joan seemed to be mulling it over, and after a moment shook her head as if she couldn’t make sense of it even now. “Frankly, I don’t understand my son.”

Maggie dismissed Joan’s apology. “It’s fine.” The problem was with Nick and not his mother.

Worry clouded Joan’s face. “You aren’t considering moving, are you?”

“No way!” She refused to give Nick the satisfaction.