Catch of the Day (Gideon's Cove #1)(14)

So Skip got out of the Lexus. And then he turned and gave his hand to someone else. He always was courtly, Skip.

She was a beautiful, elegant girl—woman, I guess—blood-red knit suit, blond hair in a French twist. The mayor and high school baseball coach and head of the Little League waited up on the little gazebo, and Skip and his parents and the blond girl went up and took their seats. There were four chairs waiting for them, I noted, and that fourth chair was not for me.

That was the first time my heart was broken in public.

There were probably murmurs as I pushed my way through the crowd, away from the gazebo. I didn’t hear them. Probably, I was sobbing. I know I was covering my face, because I stumbled a couple of times, my rubbery knees buckling. My parents saw and followed, and it was the most humiliating, painful moment of my life bar none, even counting Father Tim’s first Mass in Gideon’s Cove.

People must have said, “Oh, no, poor Maggie…Gosh, Skip’s moved on and she didn’t even…poor thing.” And while Skip had done an awful, unkind thing, he was nonetheless a star, and it was understandable, wasn’t it? I mean, why stick with your little townie girlfriend if the daughter of a Texas oil baron will have you?

He called me, not right away, but later that weekend. “This thing with Annabelle just happened so fast…I tried to tell you…Things with us were winding down anyway…It’s not like we were exclusive.”

Silly me. I thought we were.

Skip and Annabelle left Gideon’s Cove the next week. That same week my father gave me a two-year-old Golden Retriever and hugged me wordlessly, and Christy had me visit her at grad school. Then my grandfather died suddenly, and I had other things to think about. I was a business owner now. I had a dog to train. A little brother who needed help with homework. Lots to do.

It was with deep satisfaction that I saw Skip sent back to the AA league after an abysmal start with Minnesota. But it didn’t stop him from marrying Annabelle later that same year, and they moved to Bar Harbor, to a house on the water purchased, no doubt, with her daddy’s money.

Skip is now a salesman for a high-end car company, and when they come back to Gideon’s Cove, which is rare, it’s always in some much-admired, sexy sports car or an environment-raping SUV. He never comes to Joe’s Diner, thank God. I haven’t spoken to him since he dumped me.

So if my love life is a source of amusement to the town, it’s understandable. First Skip, now the priest. I try to take it well. For the most part, I’m very happy with my life. I love the diner, and I love my little apartment. I love the old folks I feed and I certainly love my family.

But sometimes at night, when I’m folding laundry or watching TV or planning the diner’s menu for the week, I pretend I’m married. “What do you think? Will people eat butternut squash bisque in this town?” Or, watching the Fan Cam during a Red Sox game, “Look at that guy. Do you think he could chew with his mouth shut?” Or even, when I just want to test it out, I might say “How was your day, honey?”

Colonel wags his beautiful tail when he hears me speaking to my imaginary hubby. Sometimes he comes over and pushes his big white head against me until I smile. That dog licked away a lot of tears during our first few weeks together, and he’s been my emotional barometer ever since. If he could take on human form, I’d marry him instantly. But since that won’t happen, and since Father Tim is not going to leave the priesthood and marry me, I’m a bit helpless when loneliness decides to shove its way so rudely to the front of the line.

CHAPTER FOUR

“HELLO, BABY BOY,” I call to my brother. I’m at the diner, which Jonah visits daily. “How are the traps?”

“Not bad,” he answers. “Got any French toast today, Maggot?”

Much to my parents’ dismay, Jonah is a lobsterman. Having lived in Gideon’s Cove their entire lives, our folks know what a hard life it is. Dad’s a retired teacher, and my mom recently left the hospital, where she was head secretary of the OB/GYN unit. In fact, she was the one who introduced Christy and Will.

Mom and Dad didn’t really want their kids to go blue collar. They themselves are both college grads, which is rare around here, and my dad’s master’s degree is even more special. But despite my graduating from college, and Jonah having been given the same chance, Mom and Dad ended up with a diner owner and a lobsterman. Only Christy has done what they hoped—she graduated from college and even went on to get her master’s in social work. She loved her career with the Department of Children and Families, then became a stay-at-home mom when Violet was born.

But last year, Jonah went in on a boat with another guy and has been making ends meet since. It’s backbreaking work and means getting out of bed as early as 3:00 a.m., depending on how many traps you have. Most lobstermen do other kinds of fishing, too—flounder, cod, mackerel, halibut, sea bass, so when the lobstering season finishes, the boats keep running. Occasionally, a tourist will want a charter, and Jonah, who is handsome and good-natured, gets hired quite a bit during the brief Maine summer. But regulations and decreasing sea life and a million other things have turned lobstering into an even more difficult job.

Jonah lives in a little house with two other guys, a place so filthy and infested with nasty socks, moldy leftovers and dirty underwear that Human Services should shut it down. It’s no wonder that he comes into the diner every day. The fact that I feed him for free is an added allure.