Catch of the Day (Gideon's Cove #1)(63)
“Hi, Mrs. K.,” I say. The last thing I want to do is cut her toenails or plunge her toilet. “Everything okay?”
“Well, yes, Maggie, for me, at any rate. Here. I baked today. I can’t remember the last time I baked. These are for you.” She hands me a paper plate of peanut butter cookies, the crisscross marks sparkling with sugar. Her wizened, soft face is so kind and sweet that my eyes instantly fill.
“Now, you probably need some time alone, so I won’t keep you,” she says. “But I’m here if you need me.” She squeezes my arm and closes the door.
I open the door to my apartment and step in, then stand for a minute, facing my loss. I’ve never come home and not had Colonel either with me or here to greet me. His bowl is still there, still filled with kibbles. His doggy bed, worn on one side where he draped his paw over the side these many years, seems enormously empty.
A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER, I’m in my oldest, most comfortable flannel pajamas. Winged blue coffee cups float over an orange background, a color combination that explains why I got them for three dollars. Two inches of my ankle stick out, and my bosomor lack thereofis now coated with peanut butter cookie crumbs. Exhausted but not sleepy, I listlessly watch the Red Sox blow a four-run lead. My mother hates me, my father’s disappearing, my sister’s perfect, and hey. Let’s not forget that my dog is dead. In a word, I’m not feeling too chipper. Of course, that’s when someone knocks on the door.
I heave myself off the couch. Probably Jonah, I think. But it’s not. It’s the last thing I need. Malone.
I open the door. “Malone, it’s not the best time for me,” I say, looking at his chest.
“I’ll just be a minute,” he answers, pushing past me.
Why is he here? Do we need to break up? Did we have a relationship that actually requires a breakup scene? “Look,” I say, but I’m talking to his back because he’s ignoring me and going into the kitchen. Taking off his coat, even. The nerve. And opening a cabinet. Pretty rude, if you ask me. I stay where I am, hands on my hips. If he wants a fight, he’s in for it. I am in no mood for shit today, as Mommy Dearest could attest. This has been a piss-poor day, and my throat grows tight with anger.
“Malone, I really don’t want you”
Malone comes back in the living room with two glasses of what looks and smells like scotch. He hands one to me, then clinks his glass against mine. “To Colonel. He was a great dog, Maggie.”
Whatever hardness I’m feeling crumbles like a sand castle. I cover my eyes, which have instantly filled with tears. “Malone…” I whisper. He puts his arms around me, kisses my head, and the kindness of the small gesture just destroys me. My fists clench in his shirt, and I sob against his chest.
“Jonah told me,” he says, kissing me again. “Here, take a drink. You’ll feel better.”
It’s one of his longer speeches. I obey, wincing as I swallow. Then he leads me to the couch and sits down, pulling me with him, tucking my head against his shoulder. My tears leak out, wetting the wool of his sweater, and I hiccup occasionally. We sit there like that for a long time, watching the Sox lose, not saying anything. I sip the drink, feeling a pleasant warmth grow in my middle. Malone’s fingers play idly in my hair, and I’m curled against his side. My eyes begin to burn, my thoughts grow sketchy and jumbled.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but when I wake up, I’m in bed, the covers pulled up to my chin. My arm reaches out automatically, and I do touch a warm, solid figure, but it’s not Colonel, of course. It’s Malone. He’s lying on top of the covers, fully dressed. The moonlight that pours through the window allows me to see that he’s awake.
“Hi,” I whisper.
“Hi,” he says.
“Did you carry me to bed?”
He nods once.
“You’re pretty strong, then,” I say, and he smiles, tugging my heart.
He reaches out and pushes a strand of hair back from my face, his smile fading. “Maggie,” he says, his voice as gravelly as the stones at Jasper Beach, “the other night, when you came over…I wasn’t exactly at my best.”
My goodness. An apology. “I think you’re making up for it now,” I tell him.
“Can you spend the day with me tomorrow?” he asks, still playing with my hair.
A date, I think. He wants to take me on a date. Octavio and Judy can run the place without me for a day. It’s been known to happen. “Sure.” My eyes are getting tired again. “Do you want to come under the covers?” I murmur. “It’s pretty chilly.”
The bed squeaks as he gets off it. I hear his clothes rustle, but I can’t keep my eyes open another minute. He slides under the covers with me, minus his sweater, though the jeans and shirt remain. He pulls me against him, and I slip my hand under his shirt against his warm skin. Malone kisses my forehead, and in another minute, I’m asleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY
MALONE WAKES FIRST, sliding out of bed. “Meet me at the dock at seven, okay?” he asks.
“Okay,” I say, rubbing my eyes. He leaves, closing the door quietly behind him.
I get up, trying not to look for Colonel in every corner, and take a quick shower, then throw on some jeans and a sweater. I pause for a minute by Colonel’s bed, kneeling down to pat the fleecy cushion. “Miss you, buddy,” I whisper. Then I call Octavio and tell him I’m taking a day off.