Hideaway Cove (A Windfall Island Novel) (23 page)

“Neither are you,” Paige reminded her. “Either of you.”

“That’s the point, Paige. You left us behind. We— Well,
I
would have stayed in contact.”

“If I’d let you know where I was.” Paige sighed softly, and not for effect. “I thought I needed to shake the island off me in order to be a success. I guess I didn’t realize I was burning bridges as well.”

“Bridges can be rebuilt,” Maggie said, “but it takes time. You were never patient.”

“Neither were you.” But Paige smiled, because Maggie had opened the door—maybe just a crack, but still. As much as she wanted to shove it open, she knew that would be the wrong way. But she had a lot of experience with getting her foot in, then making the most of the opportunity.

The waitress returned, carrying a tray piled with burgers and fries, with three huge sodas crammed in between. She transferred everything to the table and left them to sort it out.

“Good grief,” Paige said, sitting forward languidly to survey the offerings. “Who’s going to eat all that?”

“Us.” Maggie crammed a couple of fries into her mouth before she began passing out drinks and the plastic, paper-lined baskets stuffed with burgers the size of bread plates.

Paige poked the burger Maggie slid in front of her, winced when Maggie took a huge bite of her own. “You know that’s going straight to your ass.”

“I don’t store, I burn.”

“Well this,” Paige made a gesture that encompassed her body from shoulders to knees, “is a storage unit.”

“Right. And the whole world just hates the way your storage unit works.”

“Because I don’t eat like this.”

“For someone who wasn’t actually invited, you sure complain a lot.”

“I invited her,” Jessi reminded Maggie.

“And I invited you, so this is my party. Why didn’t I get a vote?”

“Because you would have said no.” Paige hadn’t wanted to hear it, hadn’t been able to stomach the rejection. So she’d shoved herself in where she wasn’t wanted—and maybe, just maybe, she’d made herself useful. And taken the steps that had opened that door a crack. “We had fun, didn’t we?”

“I did,” Maggie said, “as soon as I saw you climb out of Jessi’s car in that frumpy outfit.”

“I borrowed some of your clothes,” Paige said sweetly. “I hope you don’t mind.”

Maggie grinned. “You’re a little quicker on your feet than you used to be.”

“Hollywood.”

“So if you can disguise yourself this well, why don’t you?”

“Hollywood,” Paige said again, hearing the weariness in her own voice, edged with cynicism. “There’s no way I’m walking around looking like this all the time.” She plucked at the baggy dress and mud-brown coat she’d borrowed from Helen Appelman. A different hairstyle and a creative hand with her makeup altered her features enough, she’d figured, to withstand the kind of casual scrutiny she was likely to get. “If I was recognized and photographed in this getup it would be a disaster.”

“I’m sure you could talk your way out of it,” Maggie said, “seeing as you’re so quick-witted now.”

There were some things you couldn’t talk your way out of, Paige thought. She kept that to herself, though. No point in ruining a perfectly lovely time. And no reason to starve. She licked her lips, pulled her basket closer. “Do you know how long it’s been since I had one of these?”

“You had one in that movie,” Jessi said.

“
December Sunshine
. I was dying. And I didn’t actually eat it.”

“Really? Why not?”

“It’s prop food. It’s meant to look a certain way and perform in a certain manner. It’s almost always stone cold—can’t have the actor burning the roof of her mouth on hot pizza cheese. Or say I was eating this hamburger: how would it look if it leaked all over my expensive wardrobe? Or maybe it’s meant to leak on me. So it’s dry as dust or loaded with enough grease and condiments to refloat the
Titanic
. Either way it’s disgusting.”

“That’s what comes of lying for a living,” Maggie put in.

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Paige said, waving off Jessi’s instantaneous attempt to defend her. “If the good points didn’t outweigh the bad, nobody would want to be an actor. And let me tell you, there are a lot of good points.”

“Money,” Maggie said.

“Brad Pitt,” Jessi chimed in at the same time. “You have met Brad Pitt, right? And Leo DiCaprio. You’ve done movies with both of them. Are they good guys? Were Angie and the kids on the set all the time?”

Paige hunched her shoulders, looking around.

Jessi clamped a hand over her mouth. “That was kind of loud, wasn’t it?” she said through her fingers.

“A deaf man couldn’t hear his own thoughts in here,” Maggie said.

The place was a cacophony of big screens tuned to sports, the tinny sound of an old jukebox, and the bells and buzzers from a pair of old-fashioned pinball machines at the far end of the room. Just the quick glance she’d taken told Paige that no one in the place was giving them a second look—except the man ogling Maggie, and wasn’t that a kick in the pants.

But then, Maggie was a hell of a looker, and in the dress she’d bought? She’d break hearts for sure.

“I think you have an admirer,” Paige said to her. “It’s a good thing he didn’t get a look at you an hour ago.”

Maggie just shrugged it off.

Jessi sighed. “That dress is so beautiful, Maggie. So is mine. I still can’t believe they’d sell a vintage Valentino for so little.”

“It’s a used dress, sweetie,” Paige said. “They can let it go for a lot less than when it was new on the runway.” Especially after she’d slipped a couple of bills to the sales clerk.

Paige looked up, caught Maggie watching her, one eyebrow raised, and wondered if she’d gotten away with it as cleanly as she’d thought. Not that it mattered, as long as Jessi never found out about it—and she figured Maggie would keep the secret rather than hurt her best friend.

“Well, we’re going to look gorgeous,” Jessi said.

“It’s a shame Hold won’t be there to see you,” Paige said, then immediately wished the words back when the joy slid away from Jessi’s face.

“His loss,” Maggie said.

Paige looked from one face to the other—Maggie’s closed and angry, Jessi’s closed and miserable. For once, although she was rabidly curious, she left it alone. “Well, there’ll be more than enough hearts to break at the Ball, that’s for sure.”

But not for her, she thought, and joined her friends, angry with the press and paparazzi who only wanted to capitalize on her humiliation, and miserable that she had to hide away in a hotel room because the people who’d sought her company only weeks before would shun her now. None of them had cared to find out whether or not she deserved it.

No, she’d had to go home to find someone who cared about her. She looked across the table at Maggie, and knew they’d turned a corner—one that wouldn’t take them back to the place they’d left off a decade before, but to a new place.

A better place.

T
he Keegan house sat on a quiet street in South Boston, nestled between identical houses with barely enough space between them for a man to traverse without brushing his shoulders against the walls on either side.

The houses had been individualized and showed the characters of their owners. The Keegan house, Maggie thought, gave off an air of fun, of joy, of welcome. It had been painted a cheerful shade of yellow, the deep front porch accented with peach, white, and pale green.

The door was leaded glass and sported a bedraggled Christmas wreath, obviously made by the hands of children. Beyond the wreath was an interior filled with light—before the door was flung open and a woman burst through. Dex’s mother, Maggie assumed. She was middle-aged and comfortably dressed in trim jeans and a sweater adorned with snowmen. One of them was flipping the bird with its twiggy finger.

“I think I’m going to like her,” Jessi said.

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

Peggy Keegan rushed down the steps, arms wide, to envelop Dex in a hug. She spoke to him, but Maggie’s head had started to buzz, and she couldn’t for the life of her make out a single word.

Then Peggy turned, their eyes met, and Maggie took an automatic step back. She didn’t mean to do it, saw the flicker of surprise—and hurt—on Peggy’s face, but she couldn’t seem make her feet move.

Paige, bless her, stepped into the awkwardness, holding out a well-manicured hand and laughing as Dex’s mother hugged her instead, and exclaimed over how she would be the talk of the neighborhood, what with a limo and a movie star appearing on the same day.

“Of course,” she added, “the two do go together, after all. And you must be Jessica and Benjamin,” she said, hugging Jessi next, and bending a little to shake Benji’s hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jessi said, hugging back with an ease Maggie had always envied about her. “Dex has told us about you, all of you.”

“And Maggie,” Peggy said warmly, although her smile wavered and her hands worried at the hem of her sweater.

Her show of nerves gave Maggie the courage to step up and hug the woman who would be her mother-in-law, to murmur, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Keegan, I’m not very comfortable with new people.”

Dex’s mother gave her a bracing squeeze, adding a couple of soothing circles to her back that made Maggie’s throat burn. “Let me take a look at you,” she said as she stepped back, her hands sliding down to link with Maggie’s. “Well, you’re beautiful, of course, but that’s not why my son fell in love with you. He’s always been one to look beneath the surface.”

And now the tears swam into Maggie’s eyes. This, she thought, was a mother, the kind who raced out onto a snowy sidewalk in her socks because she couldn’t wait to greet her son. The kind of mother who hung a lopsided wreath because it was made with love, and who cared more about the people in her house than the image it presented.

The kind who welcomed a stranger because her son was in love.

“Call me Peggy,” she said as she stepped back.

“I think…Maybe at some point I could call you Mom?”

“Oh.” Peggy waved a hand in front of her sparkling eyes in a move that had always baffled Maggie. “That’s exactly the right thing to say, especially since I can see you mean it—look at that frown,” she added, laughing delightedly.

“Maggie never says anything she doesn’t mean,” Dex said.

“Why would anyone?”

Maggie felt him ease up behind her and slip an arm around her waist. “Now you’ve done it,” he said, squeezing her lightly, and although there was a teasing note in his voice, she could tell she’d pleased him.

More people ought to be honest
, she thought, but she knew it was more than honesty that had prompted her.

“Come inside.” Peggy took Maggie’s hand, and drew her up the sidewalk and into the warmth and brightness of the old house.

“This brute lurking in the shadows is Carter, Dex’s father.”

“It’s cold out there,” Carter grumbled, taking everyone’s hand in turn while his wife made the introductions.

When he got to her Maggie thought,
This is what Dex will look like in twenty-five years
. His hair might have silvered, but he was still fit, still handsome, and his eyes sparkled with strength and humor. Maggie hoped she aged half as well, but no matter what, she’d still count herself a lucky woman.

“These are my grandchildren, Katie and Kyle.”

A little girl of about four had her arms wrapped around one of Peggy’s legs, and Peggy’s hand rested on the shoulder of a little boy only a year or so older. They were both so solemn, so serious, with their blue eyes and strawberry blond hair.

“Lou is still at work,” Peggy said, her eyes going to meet Dex’s. “She’s turning her hand back to nursing, and I’m glad of it. I think it’s helping her to be busy.”

“Dex told us…We were all so sorry to hear of your loss,” Maggie said.

Peggy reached over and gave her hand a squeeze.

Through it all Benji had stood back, staying close to his mother.

Thankfully Dex’s niece wasn’t so shy. She came over and took his hand. “You can come to my room and play,” she offered.

“He don’t want to play with dumb girl stuff.”

Katie clouded up, her little chin trembling.

“Girl stuff’s okay,” Benji said. “My mom’s a girl and she’s never dumb, and my Auntie Maggie flies planes and helicopters.”

“My Barbie has a car,” Katie offered, her little voice still wobbling.

“Cars are good,” Benji said, letting Katie tow him away. Kyle tagged along after them, backpedaling on his opinion of girls and their toys the whole way.

“That’s some kid,” Peggy said.

Jessi stared after him. “I don’t know what I’d do without him,” she said. “He’s not really in any danger, but it will ease my mind to know he’s here with you.”

“Then it’s settled.” Peggy headed to the rear of the house. Jessi and Paige followed her while the men peeled off into what she figured was a den.

Maggie looked after them wistfully, then nearly tripped over her own feet when Peggy said, “So, I know you and Dex haven’t set a date yet, but have you looked at dresses?”

“No.” Maggie rubbed a hand between her breasts. It didn’t do much for her wildly pounding heart. “You’ll help me, right?”

Peggy’s already misty eyes went damp. “If that was sucking up, you’re good at it.”

“That was panic. But I’d have clued in to the sucking-up factor before long.”

“Your mother— Forgive me for being blunt, but she doesn’t want to be involved?”

“My father doesn’t want to be involved, and she’d never go against him.”

“Then I’m sorry for you both, and a little bit delighted that I get you all to myself.” She folded Maggie into a hug, and Maggie hugged back, if a little gingerly.

“There now,” Peggy said with a laugh. “That didn’t hurt so bad.”

“It didn’t hurt at all.” But it did, in an odd way, Maggie thought. Because it showed her what she’d missed as a child.

This would be an example, she decided, of the kind of home she could make. And it was one more gift Dex had given her. The gift of family.