Just Married...Again (2 page)

“Sorry, I forgot.” He recapped the syringe, broke off the needle, and placed it in a special container. “So, when are you going to run away with me? I’ve got plane tickets to Greece in my black bag.”

Maddy chuckled, and a beguiling dimple puckered her left cheek. “You big flirt, wait till I tell Sylvia. She’s going to take away all your privileges, and you won’t be able to see that new grandbaby of yours.”

He pretended to scowl. “Who told you I was a grandfather? I’m much too young and handsome for that sort of thing.”

“My, but we’re feeling our oats today, aren’t we?”

They exchanged another minute or two of good-natured banter before Quigley made a note in her file and closed it. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

Maddy hesitated. She wished people would stop asking her that question. It would be the first Thanksgiving without Michael in six years. Her parents had already migrated to their West Palm Beach winter retreat and had undoubtedly taken an entourage with them, so there went any idea of spending a quiet family holiday together. Lord, she was beginning to feel sorry for herself again.

“I don’t know,” she said after a moment, keeping her voice light so the kindly old doctor wouldn’t see how crummy she was feeling over the whole thing. “Several people have invited me to join them and their families.”

“The old pity routine, huh?” he said.

Maddy looked up. “What do you mean?”

“I was a single guy once,” he said. “Before Sylvia got her claws in me,” he added with a chuckle. “Back in medical school, the married interns always felt sorry for me when the holidays came along, and I got more invitations than a slick-talking politician. ’Course, I knew they were only trying to be nice. I always told them I’d already made plans.”

“Weren’t you lonely?”

“Heck, no. But I’ve always enjoyed my own company. If I had a cabin in the mountains like you, I’d spend all my free time there.”

Maddy pondered it. She certainly didn’t want to impose on her friends or have them feel sorry for her. “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea,” she said as she made for the door. “Thanks for the suggestion, Dr. Quigley.”

“Don’t forget to take your camera if you go,” he said, following behind. “I want to see pictures of the place, and I know what a good photographer you are.” He pointed to an enlarged photograph of a waterfall hanging on one wall. It was one she’d taken while hiking in the mountains; she’d had it matted and framed for his sixtieth birthday.

Maddy suddenly remembered it had been months since she’d picked up her camera, and she realized she missed it. “Maybe I will, at that,” she said. She gave him a brief hug and hurried out the door.

Several minutes later Quigley’s nurse appeared. “Old fool,” she said, giving him a nudge with her elbow. “You know what Sylvia said about you getting involved in your patients’ private lives.”

Quigley patted her on the shoulder. “What Sylvia doesn’t know won’t hurt her. And don’t forget, Martha, you’re six months older than me. If I’m old, you’re ancient.”

“I may be ancient, but at least I keep up with the weather. There’s a major storm in Canada, and they’re expecting it to come down as far as Asheville. So, what do you have to say about that, you old poop?”

“I couldn’t have planned it better if I’d tried,” he told her.

“Okay, listen up you guys,” Maddy said a couple of days later. “There will be no fighting and no running through the cabin.” She gave her charges a stern look. “And if I catch either of you chewing on the furniture, you’ve had it.”

Two pairs of brown eyes gazed back at her in nothing less than open adoration. Two excited tails thumped steadily against the leather seat. It would have taken only a quick smile or a word of encouragement, and the dachshunds would have jumped the console and landed in their mistress’s lap. It was all Maddy could do to keep from smiling.

“Now then, in the event we get snowed in and I can’t walk you—which is a strong possibility—you will cooperate by using the litter box. Accidents will result in lost TV privileges. Oops, I forgot, there’s no television at the cabin.” Maddy paused when she noticed a station wagon passing. The couple inside the car stared back at her.

“Look at those people gawking at me,” she said. “Probably think I’m crazy for talking to my dogs. Wonder what they’d think if they knew I read bedtime stories to you?” She chuckled and glanced at her pets.

More tail thumping.

Maddy continued down the interstate in her red Jeep Cherokee, noticing the wind and rain had begun to pick up in the last hour or so. The weatherman was calling for a winter storm, but she’d never known it to sleet or snow before January. She was prepared just in case. The ice chest in back held a turkey, steaks for grilling in the fireplace, and a small ham. She’d also packed canned goods and an array of fruits and vegetables. Yep, she could probably make it till Christmas if she had to.

She wondered if she was prepared for the rush of feelings that would hit her once she stepped inside the cabin. Then she fortified her nerves with the thought that after all the pain she’d already suffered, anything now would be minimal.

Michael could see the disappointment in his mother’s eyes. She and his sister-in-law, Brenda, had been baking pies and bread all afternoon in preparation for Thanksgiving dinner the following day. His father and oldest brother were in the den watching a football game. Michael had said a quick hello but hadn’t bothered to join them. The two men, both detectives on the force, shared a special camaraderie. Michael always felt as though he was intruding.

“But you’ve spent every Thanksgiving with your family,” his mother said, giving her son a wounded look. “How can you desert us at a time like this?”

“Now, Mama,” Brenda said consolingly as she carried her nine-month-old daughter on one hip and wiped the counters down with her free hand. All her daughters-in-law called her mama or mother. Kathleen Kelly insisted on it. “If the doctor feels Michael needs to get away for health reasons, then we should stand by him. After all, we want Michael to be around for future Thanksgivings,” she added.

Michael offered Brenda a smile of appreciation. If anyone could win his mother over, it was his oldest brother’s wife. Brenda was a born nurturer. She had tried to comfort him in the early days of his and Maddy’s split, but he’d been too proud to admit he was hurting. She often told him he was in denial. If putting in sixteen-hour days and tossing back several shots of
scotch
before bedtime could be labeled denial, then her diagnosis had been correct. But he wasn’t about to admit as much.

“I suppose you’re right,” Kathleen Kelly said. It was obvious she loved the younger woman and respected her opinion. She was close to all her boys’ wives. She often claimed that after raising five sons, three of whom had grown up to be policemen like their father; her daughters-in-law were a welcome relief. Unquestionably, her grandchildren were the light of her life. “It’s kind of late to get started, don’t you think? I mean, it’s after seven o’clock.”

“There’ll be less traffic.”

Finally, his mother shrugged. “Well, at least let me wrap up a couple of these pies.” She started to get up.

“Better not,” he said, giving her a grim smile. “Dr. Quigley has me on a diet, too.”

“That’s ridiculous! You’re not overweight,” she said as Becky, her ten-year-old granddaughter, came into the room asking for something to drink. Brenda reached for a container of apple juice from the refrigerator and poured some into a glass.

It always amazed Michael what women could do with one hand. He tugged his niece’s ponytail and made a face at the baby. The older girl smacked his hand. The other giggled and hid her face. “Where’s Danny?” he asked, glancing around for some sign of his thirteen-year-old nephew.

Brenda handed the glass of juice to her daughter. “Sulking. He wanted to meet a bunch of his friends at the movies, and his dad and I said no.”

“Which they had every right to do,” Kathleen said, as if her opinion had been the deciding vote. “His grades are terrible.” She stopped abruptly. “Oh, my, didn’t I hear the weatherman mention a possible snowstorm in the mountains?”

Michael chuckled, leaned over, and kissed her on the cheek. “You know it never snows this early in the year, Mom. But if it does, I’ve packed enough food and blankets to see me through the worst storm.” He argued with his mother a few more minutes before bidding them all farewell. Even though he knew he’d miss having Thanksgiving with them, he actually relished the thought of enjoying a little peace and quiet. He knew he was crazy to push himself the way he did, but he also knew the reasons why. He only hoped being at the cabin didn’t dredge up memories of Maddy. He’d worked too hard trying to exorcise them from his mind.

Maddy was less than an hour from the cabin when the cold rain changed to sleet. She turned her wipers on high and switched the radio off in order to better concentrate on her driving. In the next seat, her pets slept peacefully. She wished she had gotten an earlier start, but she’d been held up at the gym by a woman who wanted to take off thirty pounds overnight, even though it’d taken her several years to put them on. People didn’t enjoy hearing that weight loss and good health took time and hard work; they wanted a miracle cure. As a fitness instructor, Maddy was expected to give them one. She could offer them knowledge and motivation and maybe a few tips, but she could not wave a magic wand and instantly give them the kind of body they desired.

People were never really happy about their bodies. Although years of fitness training kept her in tip-top shape, there were still things she would change about her own body if she could, her thighs and calves for example. While she wanted them to be trim and shapely, she sometimes felt they were too muscular. She had recently cut back on exercising that part of her body.

Michael, on the other hand, claimed she had the longest, shapeliest legs he’d ever seen, and he’d always insisted on her wrapping them around his waist when they made love. Maddy felt something flutter inside her stomach at the thought of her soon-to-be ex-husband.

Lovemaking had always been especially good between them; in fact, they’d spent almost every waking moment in the sack when they’d first married. But after several years Michael had begun to feel too tired for sex. He would fall asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Maddy had ordered sexy lingerie from various catalogs and pranced about in garter belts and feathered boas, but nothing seemed to work.

She and Michael had become little more than roommates, their conversations superficial and banal.

She knew her marriage was in trouble long before she missed her first period. That was nothing compared with what she went through after telling Michael she was pregnant.

Maddy was suddenly jolted from her thoughts when she realized the sleet had turned to snow. All at once the wet stuff became white and slightly powdery, like confectioners’ sugar. She was glad to have something to think about other than Michael. It was a waste of time and not at all healthy to dwell on those last tense months, the final unhappy weeks that had prompted her to pack her bags and move out. In January, it would be a year, at which time she could obtain her divorce.

At first the snow covered the ground in patches, but it wasn’t long before it blanketed everything in sight. Maddy could feel the vehicle climbing and the pressure in her ears beginning to build, and knew she was getting closer to her destination. Nevertheless, she drove slowly and took great care with the curves. The Jeep felt heavy on the winding road. She probably could have done with fewer canned goods, not to mention all those heavy library books she carried with her. She imagined herself reading in front of a roaring fire while her dogs rested at her feet. She chuckled softly as she tried to imagine her dogs at her feet. Not a chance. They’d insist on being right up in the chair with her. At least the roaring-fire part of her fantasy would be possible. She’d covered herself by bringing wood from home, just in case someone had helped themselves to what was stacked in the small shed behind the cabin.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Maddy came to the turnoff. The snow was blinding by now, but her windshield wipers worked overtime, so she could see, if only for a very short distance. She passed a couple of cabins, both unoccupied.

Maddy shivered. It suddenly occurred to her that she might be the only one staying on the mountain now that a winter storm was in full swing. Perhaps she should have heeded the warning, or at least told somebody where she was going. She could feel herself growing tense. She knew from past experience that her cell phone would be of no use.

Had it always been so dark in the mountains at night?

It was at times like this that she wished she’d chosen a snarling Doberman for a pet instead of two wimpy dachshunds who were afraid of their own shadows. They might make good lapdogs, but they weren’t worth a cuss in the protection department.

Maddy spied the cabin straight ahead and was glad to have the trip behind her. Well, almost. She still had to unload the car—not an easy task with the snow coming down so hard. Perhaps she’d unpack just the perishable food and leave the rest till daylight. Not that anything was likely to spoil in this weather. All she really needed was the bag of dog food. She’d build a fire, soak in a hot bath, maybe read for an hour, and call it a night.

Maddy struggled to stay in the center of the road, but it was impossible to determine exactly where the center was, since there were no tracks. Obviously, it had been snowing for some time in the higher elevations. She crept along, watching for where the road curved into an S. She tried to make out a pattern from the way the weeds clumped together along the side of the road, but with the night casting everything deep in shadow, and the snow whirling about like a tempest, it was impossible to see. Suddenly her Jeep slid on a patch of ice. Maddy reacted too fast. She slammed on the brakes, causing the Jeep to fishtail.

The dachshunds shot up in a flash and began barking in unison as she frantically fought to stay on the road. She knew there were rules on how to correct a skid, because Michael had preached them to her over and over each time they had made the trip to the cabin. But at the moment she didn’t have the first clue how to right the Jeep, and her struggles had the car sliding from side to side like some wild carnival ride. Then she felt the back of the vehicle drop off the road.