Catch of the Day (Gideon's Cove #1)(101)

“Oh…it’s—well…” Any plans I had have evaporated. To hide the fact that my hands are shaking, I stuff them in my pockets. “Um, well, guess what? It turns out that Jonah…you know, my brother, well, he’s the father of Chantal’s baby. And he just figured it out, and they’re together, I guess. Sort of. So no one thinks it’s you anymore.”

His bottom lip is so full and soft-looking among the black razor stubble. Those irritating lashes drop for a moment as Malone looks at the dock.

“You knew, didn’t you?” I ask. “About Jonah.”

“Ayuh.”

“You could’ve told me, Malone.” My voice sounds soft and trembly.

He sighs. “Chantal didn’t want me to. I thought you should know, but…well. Not my call.” He frowns and looks back at his boat. He starts to say something, then apparently changes his mind.

I give in to my urge to flee. “You know what, Malone? I have to run. But you know, nice seeing you and all. Have a good night.” I wave to Emory, who looks as graceful as a swan even as she stuffs a bait bag. “Bye. Nice meeting you.” She smiles back, very sweetly, and tears burn in my eyes.

Turning to leave, I actually take a few steps before stopping. I came for a reason, after all. “Listen, Malone,” I say, turning around. “Um, I just want you to know that…Listen. I accidentally helped spread that rumor about you and Chantal. I’m sorry for that, and I’m sorry I never gave you the benefit of the doubt. You deserved better.”

I force myself not to look away. His face is unsmiling, not exactly scowling, but not happy, either, God knows. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, too,” I continue, my voice unsteady. “About Father Tim and me, and you and me, and me killing time with you…” I’m babbling again. “Well, whatever. I guess I also wanted to say that…” I take a deep breath. “Malone, I never meant to make you feel…inferior. I think you’re…well. Not inferior at all.” I swallow. “Pretty superior, actually.”

If he were to give me anything at that moment, I’d say more. If he smiled, if he took a step toward me, if he said something. But he doesn’t, just looks at me. Finally, he gives a slight nod. “Thanks,” he says quietly.

And that’s it. I wait another second, then nod and, painfully aware of my every move, walk back down the dock.

Malone doesn’t stop me. He doesn’t forgive me, and he lets me go.

“What was that all about?” I hear Emory ask, but though I hear the rumble of his voice, I can’t make out the words. I run up the gangplank because I don’t want them to know that I’m crying.

OVER THE NEXT FEW DAYS, I feel a bit hollow. After all, I’ve lost four people in my daily life—Father Tim, my mom, Colonel and Malone. They were a big part of things, even if only for a while. Obviously, my mother falls into a different category, as She Who Gave Me Life, and though we’re starting a better phase of our relationship, it’s strange to have her gone.

Thank you for everything, God, I say morosely as I clean Mrs. K.’s apartment. I’m glad I don’t have cancer, I haven’t amputated a limb, I’m not blind. I’m not an orphan, I have friends, health, home, all that crap. Then I immediately chastise myself and apologize for calling it crap…but God knows what I mean. I’m not exactly a mystery wrapped in an enigma.

“I think I’m going to take a cooking class,” I tell Mrs. K. when I’ve turned off the Electrolux.

“You’re already a magnificent cook! Pooh!” she cries staunchly, thumping her cane for emphasis.

“Yes, well, thanks, Mrs. K. But I might like to learn a bit more, you know? New sauces, new techniques, stuff like that. I’m trying to jazz up the menu at Joe’s.”

There’s a master class being offered in Machias, twice a week for twelve weeks. I’ve already signed up. French Cooking with a Twist. It sounded fun.

“Well, as long as you don’t change your lemon cake,” Mrs. K. says. “Don’t tamper with perfection, Maggie!”

Maybe at the class, I’ll meet some new people. It would be nice to have someone else to pal around with. It’s starting to dawn on me that getting out of Gideon’s Cove once in a while isn’t a bad idea. Chantal and I are still a little tentative with each other, but our friendship will survive her shtupping Jonah. After all, he may be my little brother, but he is also a grown-up. Theoretically, anyway.

Christy calls me later in the week. “Listen, I know the last time was a disaster,” she says, failing to excite me about what comes next, “but Will knows this nice guy, a drug rep who came into the office last week. Can we give him your number?”

I sigh. I’m stretched out sideways on my bed, a pillow clutched to my side. It’s no substitute for Colonel. I need to get another dog. “I don’t think so, Christy,” I say. “Not for a while. But I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Is it Malone?” she asks. I had told her about my visit to the dock.

“Oh, Christy,” I confess. “It was one of those things…I didn’t realize how much he meant to me until it was too late. Dumb, huh? Stupid Maggie.”

“You’re not dumb,” she chides. “It was a good learning experience. Think of it that way.”