Halfway to You(11)

Instead, the line is silent—which is far more frightening.

She continues. “You have to know how much I love this job, Grant. I’m determined to make this right. I will make this right.”

Am I about to get fired? That’s all she can think. The piano strings in her chest are now ringing nonstop, a crescendo of nerves.

“Grant?” she squeaks. “Say something, please.”

“Well done,” he says finally.

She puffs out a quick breath. “Huh?”

“Well done, Maggie. I’m impressed.”

“I . . . I don’t follow.”

“Most people would’ve left,” he says. “You problem solved. It’s not ideal, but at least we still have a foot in the door. And with Ann Fawkes, as notoriously elusive as she is, that’s big.”

Maggie wipes her cheeks with her palms. “But . . . Joy and Anita.”

“I’ll tell them it went swimmingly, because that’s the truth. If they hear about this, they’ll try to take control, and it’ll spook Ann from the project completely. Ann apparently likes you, so better to leave you to it. But, Maggie, I can only protect you for so long. You have to turn this around.”

“I know.” Despite the daunting task ahead, she’s flooded with relief. “I will.”

“Good,” he says. “There’s one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“Find some damned Wi-Fi and answer my texts.”

The next morning, Maggie awakens early to the blue glow of an overcast sky. It’s impossible to fall back asleep—her mother’s words ring out in the silent room: She’s not a very trustworthy person, dear.

Tracey has never been shy about expressing her unflattering opinions of Ann, but Maggie always chalked it up to jealousy. Though Keith rarely spoke of his famous client, it was clear he had thought of Ann as a little sister—Maggie could see why Tracey, one of his actual sisters, might take it personally.

But what if there’s more to Tracey’s distrust? How well does Ann know the Whitakers?

Maggie reaches for her phone and finds a missed text from her dad, sent earlier this morning: Hey sweetie. Just checking in. Classic Bob: kind, direct, unassuming.

But it’s also classic Tracey to try to reach Maggie through someone else, especially amid a fight. Did Mom ask you to text me? Maggie types.

While she waits for his reply, she toggles over to a second missed message from . . . Barbara, Keith’s wife. Maggie hasn’t heard from Barbara in months, but when she reads over the message, she doesn’t have to guess that Tracey’s behind it. Your mother told me about the interview. How’s it going? I’m here if you need anything.

Here for what? Moral support? Is Barbara against this interview too? From what Maggie’s heard, Barbara and Ann always got along.

Before she can reply to Barbara, Maggie’s phone vibrates, and a text from her father slides across the screen. Nope. I texted you all on my own. Don’t like how we left things.

Maggie smiles down at the tiny thumbnail photo of her and the man who raised her, eating ice-cream cones. Regardless of who her biological parents are, she’s always been close with her father. Keith might’ve been the head of the Whitaker family, a charismatic focal point around which everyone revolved—fun loving, easygoing, sincere, eclipsing everything else with his charm—but Bob has always been her number one. Steady.

This is a big opportunity for me, Maggie texts. Will you and Mom please try to see that?

A moment passes, and then: I’ll try. We are proud of you.

His words are a momentary balm on her heart—then she toggles back to the thread with Barbara. Long time no talk! The interview is going well, she says, then adds, I hope you’re doing well.

Barbara’s home was once the family hub, the place where Keith grilled on the barbecue all summer and hosted holidays in winter. After Keith’s death, the family events stopped, as if no one wanted to gather in his absence, perhaps for fear of noticing the hole in their lives. Poor Barbara, all alone in that big house now.

Maggie never asked Barbara about her role in Keith and Ann’s friendship, but of course she must’ve been friends with Ann, too—even just by proximity. But when Maggie was little, something happened between Keith and Ann to make it all go sideways, and though he remained her acquaintance until the end, Ann all but removed herself from Keith’s life. What caused the falling-out? What if that story—the story of Ann’s involvement in Maggie’s family—is the key to getting Ann to open up and move forward with the podcast?

Maggie sends a second text to Barbara: How well did you know Ann?

Slipping out of bed, she retrieves her laptop and recorder. A relisten to the botched interview from yesterday might help her prepare for what topics to handle more gently today.

Her thumb finds the power switch, but the lever is already in the on position. Perhaps she forgot to power down the recorder after Ann asked her to put it away. Frowning, Maggie attaches the USB cord. As the upload begins, her laptop lags. The file seems much larger than it ought to be, but it’s a new recorder—Brit ordered it for this occasion—so maybe the files are just higher quality?

Maggie opts to take a shower, blow-dry her hair, get dressed, and indulge in a coffee courtesy of the B&B owners downstairs. The upload has barely made any progress by the time she returns to her room.