Blindsided Page 2

  Maggie sniffled, then blew her nose in a wad of paper towels Annie held out. She gulped, took several deep breaths, and blurted out her turmoil in one long, sobbing sentence. Gus Sullivan, her husband, had died ten months ago in Afghanistan when he had been called to help out with a security company.

  “Ten months ago!” Annie and Myra cried in unison.

  “And you’re just telling us now! Why?” Myra demanded, as Annie urged the young woman to drink the tea in front of her.

  “I didn’t . . . I couldn’t . . . I was in shock at first. Then I got angry because Gus didn’t have to go. He wanted to go. Even in the condition he was in, which wasn’t all that good health-wise. He was in constant pain, and there was nothing more the doctors could do for him. All he said was, ‘I’m a soldier. I have to do this. They need me.’ He didn’t think twice because some damn company wanted him as a consultant. He didn’t even ask me if I was okay with it, he just agreed. We had a horrible fight, and he left. He just packed a duffel. Someone came to pick him up, and he waved good-bye. He waved! Do you believe that? He waved good-bye. No kiss good-bye. I didn’t see it coming. I felt like I was . . . blindsided, for want of a better term. Six weeks later, the same person who picked Gus up came to the farm and gave me the news, along with his gear. They said there wasn’t . . . there wasn’t enough of him left to send home for burial. It was a roadside bomb.”

  “Darling girl, why didn’t you call us? We would have rushed to you on winged feet. Did you go through this alone? Was anyone there for you? Oh, Maggie, we are so sorry,” Myra said, wrapping the young woman in her arms. She looked up at Annie, whose eyes were wet.

  “The girls. Did you tell the girls?” Annie finally managed to ask.

  “No. I felt so guilty I couldn’t bear to be around anyone. By then I knew I had fallen out of love with Gus. I called Ted in the middle of the night, and he helped a lot. He was there for me. He even came to see me once during . . . the worst of it. The only other thing I did was call Gus’s nephew, his only living relative, and told him about Gus’s death, and turned over the kennel and the farm to him. He came in a heartbeat, and things finalized the other day. I had nowhere else to go, so here I am. I need a job. Are there any openings at the paper? I’ll do anything, even maintenance if that’s all that’s available. I kept my old house in Georgetown and paid the taxes, but there’s a tenant in there I’ll have to ask to move.”

  “Ted knew. He never said a word,” Annie said in a disbelieving voice.

  “Because I asked him not to. I wasn’t in a good place, Annie. I wasn’t up to making decisions. It was Ted’s idea to turn the farm and the kennel over to Gus’s nephew, and the sooner the better. I would like to think that I would have done it somewhere down the road, but having Ted help me was even better. He would check on me six or seven times a day.”

  “Ted is a good man,” Myra said gently.

  “Yes, he is,” Maggie agreed tearfully. “Don’t get me wrong here. I married Gus because I loved him. Gus married me to belong to someone. He married me for all the wrong reasons. I found that out rather quickly. He wanted a partner. A business partner. Not a wife. I tried to make it work, but you can’t make someone love you. If Gus hadn’t gotten the offer to go off to Afghanistan when he did, I probably would have called it a day on my own because I fell out of love. It’s that simple.

  “I told him I would stay until he got back, then I’d file for divorce. I don’t know if he even heard me; he was so gung ho on getting back to Afghanistan. That all went down during the big fight. Ted insisted I go to a shrink, which I did. What I got out of all of the sessions was that in his mind, Gus had only one love: the army. He knew he might die over there, and he was okay with it, knowing he was doing what he wanted to do. That was pretty hard to accept. Plus, the shrink said he knew that he had nothing to come home to. That’s the guilt I’m carrying with me.”

  “Oh, no, no, no, darling girl. That’s all wrong. Gus made a choice. It wasn’t your choice. You can’t carry that guilt with you. You said it yourself—Gus was a soldier. It was the only life he knew from the age of eighteen as I recall. It was his choice to return to Afghanistan, and it doesn’t matter in what capacity he was going; he made it knowing what he was getting into. Did the two of you communicate while he was there?” Myra asked.

  “A few times via e-mail. He was happy, said he felt he was contributing. He asked me not to be angry with him. It was a roadside bomb, and the man who came to see me said he died instantly. There was a huge insurance policy. I wanted to give it to Gus’s nephew, but he wouldn’t take it. I doubt I’ll ever be able to spend the money. I’m trying to come up with a good cause that Gus would approve of to donate it to. Something for wounded vets on their return. I don’t know yet. I’m sure something will come to me sooner or later.”

  “Ted?” Annie said, mentioning her new editor-in-chief at the paper she owned.

  “My rock. I couldn’t have made it without him, and no, I don’t want his job, Annie. I laughed when he told me he had taken over my old job. He said the chair didn’t fit, but he was getting used to it. He misses being out there gathering news, or in his case, making news. Espinosa sent me funny e-mails from time to time. He was in on it—the secrecy part. Both he and Ted are better friends than I deserve.”

  “Rubbish!” Annie exclaimed. “The three of you worked well together. They missed you terribly when you left, but they both stepped up to the plate, and I know every time a crisis reared, they both would ask, ‘What would Maggie do?’ And then they’d do it. It actually worked. You were on the payroll in absentia in a manner of speaking.”

  Maggie smiled through her tears. “Thanks for telling me that.”

  Myra clapped her hands, and said, “Now I think we should all go to lunch. Annie has seventy-three dollars she won in Las Vegas, and it’s burning a hole in her pocket. We were on our way to town when you arrived. You’re too thin, Maggie. The first thing we need to do is put some meat back on your bones. Or we could drink our lunch if you feel that would be more appropriate.”

  Maggie blew her nose in a fresh wad of paper towels, dabbed at her eyes, and sat up a little straighter. “I’m your girl,” she said with spirit.

  “And you’re going to stay with me until your house is available. My roommate just relocated, and I’m all alone,” Annie said.

  “Where’s Fergus? Are you saying Fergus left?” Maggie asked, shock ringing in her voice.

  “It’s a long story, dear. We can talk about it over lunch,” Myra said, shooing Maggie out the door while she tried to hold the dogs at bay for a clean getaway.

  Annie drove the way she always did, like a bat out of hell. They arrived at a local bistro that served alcoholic beverages at lunchtime with the brakes smoking and tires squealing.

  Myra and Maggie exited the car on wobbly legs. Not so Annie, who smiled with satisfaction, and said, “I got you here in one piece.”

  “Just shut up, Annie. It’s going to take at least an hour for me to calm down after that hair-raising ride.”

  “I remember this place. We got drunk here, Annie. I can’t remember who drove us home, though,” Maggie said. “This is like old times. And they were good times, too.”

  “Well, don’t look at me; I’m old now and can’t remember a damn thing. Just ask Miss-know-it-all Myra,” Annie said, glaring at Myra, who glared right back.

  They were seated in a ruby-red leather booth in the back of the bistro. Annie suggested they make it simple and order one of everything, which she did. “Three double bourbons and branch water on the rocks. One of everything on the menu.”

  “Annie!” Myra yelped.

  “What? What? There are only four things on the damn menu, Myra. Burgers, hot dogs, fries, and onion rings.”

  “Oh,” was all Myra could say.

  “Works for me,” Maggie said. “I’ve been drinking to excess lately. After today, I’m going on the wagon. I smoke now, too,” she volunteered.

  “Really?” M
yra and Annie said in unison.

  “They were just crutches to get me . . . you know, through the bad nights.”

  “Did it help?” Myra asked.

  “No. I’ll give up the cigarettes after today, too. I hate smelling like a chimney stack, and I hate waking up with a hangover.”

  “Good for you, dear,” Myra said, reaching across the table for Maggie’s hand. She patted it to show she understood, as did Annie.

  “So, tell me about Fergus,” Maggie said, raising her bourbon glass in a toast. The women clinked their glasses before Annie started on her story, embellishing it along the way, which was no surprise to Myra. She knew that Annie was trying to lighten Maggie’s dark mood at her own expense.

  Twenty minutes later, Maggie said, “So what you’re saying is, you’re going to miss the sex more than the man himself even though he’s a really good cook.”

  Annie squirmed in her chair and flushed. She shrugged and gulped at the little bit of the bourbon in her glass that remained. She held it aloft for a refill.

  “I guess you’re thinking there is no one else out there who will rip your clothes off with their teeth. Is that it?” Maggie continued.

  “More or less. I might have to settle for a manual slow and easy. We all have to make concessions from time to time,” Annie said airily.

  Myra wanted to slip off her seat in the booth, her face a fiery crimson.

  “But the last time we were in here you said Fergus had a heat-seeking missile that was all yours. What are you going to replace that with?” Maggie giggled.

  “A purple vibrator turned on high!” Myra said, deciding she might as well join in the fun at Annie’s expense. And just maybe she’d learn something she could pass on to Charles. At some point. Just the thought made her insides all jittery and Jell-O-like.

  “You little devil, you! I knew it! The word vibrator was never in your vocabulary, Myra, my dear,” Annie chortled.

  “I’ve been reading Cosmo so I can keep up with you,” Myra said defensively.

  “Myra, you are so far behind me, it would take you a lifetime to catch up. Now, if you really want the skinny on Fergus’s prowess, gather close. I wouldn’t want word of this to fall on anyone’s ears but yours. Myra, get out your notebook and make notes for Charles.”

  Maggie’s eyes almost bugged out of her head.

  “Tell us. Our lips are zipped. Right, Myra?”

  Myra nodded. If her life depended on it, she couldn’t have made her tongue work.

  Maggie Spitzer knew in that moment in time that she was back home, and her life would take on a whole new meaning. Who said you can’t go home again? she thought smugly. She was the living proof. So there!

  Chapter 2

  Ted Robinson looked down at the text he was reading, his eyebrows shooting up to his newly receding hairline. He read it three times, committing the text to memory. We need a ride home. We’re snookered. Big-time. Come and get us at Mongol’s Bistro. Maggie.

  “Espinosa!” he roared. “Let’s hit it. Maggie’s back in town!”

  Joe Espinosa stood up and looked around. “No shit!”

  “You’re driving, buddy; c’mon, shake it!”

  Espinosa dangled his car keys in front of Ted’s glazed eyes. “Articulate, Ted!”

  He did as he raced for the elevator, his body shaking, his eyes still glazed. “She needs me, Espinosa!”

  “Yeah, I got that part, but don’t you really mean she needs a ride? Did she specifically say she needed you? She did not. She said she needed a ride. So don’t go getting your hopes up so high I won’t be able to catch you when you fall to Earth,” Espinosa grumbled.

  “Whatever. The important thing is she’s back. Maggie’s back in town! Remember that song Bobby Darin used to sing? Damn! I hope she wants this stupid job back. I’ll give it up in a heartbeat.”

  Espinosa slid behind the wheel of his SUV. “Ted, just because Maggie is in town doesn’t necessarily mean she’s back for good. C’mon, I don’t want to see you hit the skids again when she leaves.”

  “You’re wrong. The fact that she’s here means she is back. We talked about it. She said when and if she made the decision to return, it would mean she could put the past few years behind her, and that would mean she’s ready to move forward. Hey, I’m the one she called. I’m the one that talked to her during those long, dark nights. I’m the one who went to see her and bolstered her. She knew she could count on me. By the same token, I know if I had been in her shoes, she would have come through for me the same way. We have a bond between us. We both went off the rails for a while, but she’s taken the next step. I’m not stupid, Espinosa. What will be, will be. In the meantime, I can hope and dream. Stop trying to shoot me down. Can’t you drive any faster?”

  “I’m going past the speed limit as it is. Calm down, okay? Jeez, you’re like some lovesick teenager.”

  Ted didn’t bother to respond, his thoughts on Maggie, their history, and possibly a future with her back in it. Everyone in the whole damn world knew he was still in love with Maggie Spitzer. Even Maggie knew it. Nobody thought she was in love with him. All he could do was hope for the best.

  Ten minutes later, Espinosa said, “Okay, big guy, we are here! How do you want to play this? Do we both go in? What?”

  Ted shrugged. “I don’t know what the protocol is for bailing out three drunk ladies, one of whom is my boss. I guess we’ll just wing it, which means come with me.”

  Espinosa hopped out of his SUV and followed Ted into the bistro. He spotted the happy drunken trio within seconds. They waved and shouted. Annie let loose with a shrill whistle, doing a better job than he ever could have—and he was a guy. He was impressed. His boss’s prowess in all things always impressed him for some reason.

  “Is the bill paid?” Ted asked, his eyes on Maggie.

  “I paid it because Annie only had seventy-three dollars that she won in Vegas and I had to make up the difference because the bill was wayyyyyy higher than seventy-three dollars,” Myra singsonged.

  “Can you walk, ladies?” Ted asked through clenched teeth.

  “Such a silly question, Mr. Robinson. Of course we can walk. We could probably dance if we were asked to. Dance, that is. Isn’t that right, girls?” Annie said, her arms flapping every which way.

  “Right on,” Myra said, twirling around; she would have fallen if Espinosa hadn’t grabbed her by the arm. “I have this inner-ear problem,” Myra said defensively.

  “I-do-not-feel-the-need-to-dance,” Maggie said, enunciating each word carefully, her eyes crossing as she tried to focus on the two men standing in front of her.

  “And I do not feel like dancing either, so there, young man,” Annie said, holding tight to Myra’s arm. She leaned over and hissed into her friend’s ear, “We have to stop doing this; we’re too damned old to get drunk and depend on other people to get us home.”

  Myra glared at Annie, her expression saying more than any words could have.

  It was tough going, but somehow Ted and Espinosa got the three women into the backseat of the SUV. “Where to, ladies?”

  “Myra’s house. Maggie is staying with me until her tenant moves out, but I just got back from Vegas, and the house is in a shambles. Does that answer your question, young man?” Annie chirped.

  All Ted heard was that Maggie was staying and would move back into her house. He mumbled something in response. Life was looking good.

  Getting the inebriated ladies out of the SUV proved to be a bit harder than it was getting them in. All Espinosa could see were legs everywhere as the women tumbled over each other. Finally, they were all in the house. Espinosa looked around and decided to make coffee. Ted headed into Myra’s family room and built a fire. He ran upstairs for blankets and pillows, which he spread out on the floor. Everyone needed to sleep it off.

  “This isn’t feeling right to me, Ted. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to leave these three alone. Maybe we should stay,” Espinosa said.

  “I know wh
at you mean, and I feel the same way, but I think when they wake up they’ll be happy we aren’t here. We’ll get them settled and leave. Five bucks says they’ll be asleep in minutes. They’re pretty damn drunk in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “Oh, I noticed,” Espinosa said sharply. “Wonder what got into them?”

  “Sometimes you really are stupid, Espinosa. What got into them is Maggie. They had no clue what she’s been through. Did you forget that? Whatever their game plan was, it must have worked because Maggie is staying and moving back to her own house.”

  Espinosa handed out cups of strong black coffee.

  “This is just so sweet of you, Joseph,” Annie said, calling Espinosa by his given name. “Thank you so much for rescuing us. I’ll make sure you both get a very nice bonus in your paychecks.”

  Maggie swayed from side to side as she tried to focus on the little group in the kitchen. “Ted, I have a line on a story. I meant to tell Myra and Annie but . . . other things got in the way. It’s a story the Vigilantes need to know about.”

  Annie and Myra reared up at the same time. “Someone needs our help? Oh, this is just what we’ve been waiting for,” Myra said, clapping her hands.

  “Hoorah!” Annie shouted. Then she lowered her voice, and said, “Marines always say that when something goes their way.”

  “Tomorrow will be soon enough. We need to be clearheaded when I tell you. I want to go to sleep now, and I can’t think clearly,” Maggie said, as her legs finally gave out on her and her eyes closed. Ted reached for her, scooped her up, and carried her into one of the nests he’d made near the fire. He made sure the glass doors on the fireplace were closed tightly.

  “Ted?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you for everything. I’m sorry I hurt you. You know that song, ‘I Will Always Love You,’ the one Whitney Houston sang? That’s how I feel . . .” she said, her words trailing off into nothing. Ted stared down at the only woman he’d ever loved, would ever love, and smiled sadly. He felt something prick his eyelids. He blinked and stalked out to the kitchen, but not before one of Myra’s magnificent golden retrievers settled down next to his ladylove. In his mind, there was no greater protection than that of a dog. His love was in good protective paws.