“And you’re telling me this because you were afraid I might steal from your mother?” Nick wasn’t helping himself any.
He shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, and I was wrong. I’m sorry, Maggie, and I hope you’ll be willing to give me another chance.” He lifted his head to meet her look. “I jumped to conclusions when I learned you had family in the area, thinking there wasn’t a good reason for you to be living with my mom when you had other alternatives.”
She considered his explanation. Admittedly, she might have had her own suspicions had their situations been reversed. Especially after hearing what had happened to his friend’s mother.
“Mom mentioned that your situation at home wasn’t ideal.”
Maggie didn’t confirm or deny it.
“Well?” he asked. “Do you think we can put this behind us and be friends?”
She let him sweat it out for a few seconds before she smiled and gave him her hand. The thing was, she liked Nick. She’d had a great time at the movie with him. He was fun, and while she’d been hurt by his distrust, she understood he was looking after his mother’s best interests.
Nick’s smile took up half his face as he eagerly took her hand and shook it. Then, surprising her, he pulled her forward into a tight hug. “Congratulations on the scholarship.”
“Thanks,” she said, hugging him back. Her spirits were too high after the positive news to hold on to her anger for long. His arms felt good, and she breathed in his warmth and genuine delight at her award. She was happy he’d been at the house so she could share the good news with both him and Joan.
“My guess is that champagne is cold by now. Let’s celebrate.”
“Let’s,” she agreed.
Side by side, they bounded back down the stairs.
As if anticipating their arrival, Joan had brought out three flutes and set them on the kitchen counter.
Nick opened the refrigerator and removed the chilled bottle.
With an expert hand, Nick twisted off the foil and wire before taking hold of the bottle and twisting it instead of the cork.
“It looks like you have experience opening champagne,” Maggie commented at the knowledgeable way he handled the bottle.
“I worked for a caterer while I was a senior in high school,” he mentioned. “My supervisor said there was no need for the cork to pop if the bottle is opened properly. As I recall, he said that if I did it right, the sound would be the sigh of a contented woman.”
Joan burst out laughing. Maggie smiled, too, before turning her attention to the widow. Something had changed for Joan, as well, if her smile was any indication. Maggie suspected it had to do with the widow friend Joan had found in Mary Lou and the counseling group.
Nick expertly poured into each glass before distributing them to his mother and then Maggie.
“To the future Florence Nightingale.”
Maggie made a short bow.
Edison barked and all three laughed before clicking their glasses together and sipping the champagne.
This day had been full of wonderful surprises. The scholarship, the visit with her father, and Nick’s apology. Happiness flooded Maggie’s heart.
Briefly, she closed her eyes and was certain she could hear her mother’s voice reminding Maggie how very proud of her she was.
Chapter 22
Late Wednesday afternoon, Joan carefully chose her outfit before settling on tan pants and a flowered teal shirt with a light white sweater. It’d been far too long since she’d given a second thought to her appearance. She studied her reflection and could see the difference. Her haircut had certainly helped. It was more than a hairstyle, it was her attitude. She felt almost free; it went without saying she had a long way to go. Progress had been made, though, and she was eager to continue along that path, eager to face the future, no matter what it held. She was finished with burying her head in the sand, hiding from the world because it’d felt impossible to face the future without Jared.
She was about to leave when Maggie came bouncing down the stairs. The young woman seemed full of life and light. She looked amazing in a sleeveless yellow summer dress printed with white daisies. The strapless sandals were a perfect complement. In the few weeks that Maggie had lived with her, she hadn’t dated. Not as far as Joan could tell. The girl was always working, studying, or tutoring, although from what she’d said, that job would end shortly when the children’s classes were dismissed for the summer.
“Looks like you have a hot date,” Joan said, pleased by how happy Maggie looked.
Maggie’s cheeks flushed. “Nick asked me out…You don’t mind, do you? I mean, he said they were a member short on their trivia team and asked if I could fill in this week. I—”
“Heavens no, why should I mind?” If anything, having her son take an interest in Maggie thrilled Joan. If she were to have a daughter, Joan would want her to be someone exactly like her boarder.
Maggie visibly relaxed. “It looks like you’re heading out yourself.”
“It’s Wednesday. I’m meeting Mary Lou for the grief therapy group.”
“That’s great.”
It definitely was. Although they talked nearly every day now, Joan had resisted asking Mary Lou about Phil’s wife. He’d been by the house, per the contract for lawn maintenance, several times. They’d exchanged pleasantries, but his wife had never attended the group. Joan would be interested in meeting her. Joan had grown fond of Phil, not in a romantic way, though. He was a good man, conscientious and caring, with a subtle sense of humor. His wife must be a special woman, and Joan hoped that one day they could all be friends.
Phil was something of a mystery, though. He drove an expensive Tesla, and she remembered him mentioning that he’d left his former job to take over Harrison Lawn and Landscaping when his father retired. Joan couldn’t keep from wondering what he’d done before. She’d wanted to ask but hadn’t because it never seemed to be the right time and she didn’t want to pry, either.
Nick came to collect Maggie, and Joan noticed that he’d cleaned up. He’d shaved and wore a pair of Dockers and a button-down shirt. Joan couldn’t remember the last time her son had cared that much about his appearance. Even when he’d taken her to dinner, he’d worn jeans. This told Joan her boy had strong feelings for Maggie. The two had had their troubles, but somehow they’d managed to come to the meeting of the minds.
With barely an acknowledgment, they were out the door. Joan noticed them holding hands, which to her way of thinking was a good sign that their relationship was progressing along nicely. That made her heart glad.
Edison cried pitifully as she placed him inside his crate, and, gathering her purse, Joan prepared to leave herself. She felt guilty leaving Edison, especially when he looked up at her with his dark brown eyes. The one bonus was how happy he would be when she returned. He’d all but leap for joy. The puppy, along with Maggie, had helped her with the healing process, she realized, grateful for them both.
* * *
—
Nick opened the truck’s passenger door for Maggie. Because it was a stretch for her five-foot-three frame to climb inside, he helped by giving her a boost. “Thanks,” she said, scooting as gracefully as she could manage into the seat. Men and their trucks!