Catch of the Day (Gideon's Cove #1)(81)
“Oh, no!” My sister nearly falls out of her chair.
I tell her about my sophomoric routine and Father Tim’s mysterious words, not to mention the Father Shea situation.
“So did he actually say anything concrete?” my sister asks, abandoning her irritation with me in the wake of the more shocking news.
“Well, no,” I acknowledge. “But he’s already said a couple of times that he’s lonely…and then things like how special I am and that he’s counting on me. And the Father Shea thing…. You have to admit, that sounds…you know.”
“Promising?” Christy suggests.
“No! I was going to say scary, actually.”
“Yeah,” she agrees, tracing the grain of wood on the table. “Imagine the scandal, Maggie, if he left the priesthood for you.”
“I know.”
“Do you love him, Mags?” She winces as she says it. “No! Oh, shit, I don’t know, Christy. I mean, sure, I love Father Tim. Who doesn’t, right? And we really are great friends. I’ve always felt like there was some bond between us….”
“But?” she prompts.
“But…not that way. A crush is one thing, you know, but my God, no!” My sister nods. “Besides,” I admit in a quieter voice, “I still have some…feelings. For Malone.”
“Hmm.”
“Not that that matters, right? Because of Chantal and all. I should just forget him. Malone was a fling, that’s all. A pretty good fling, but there was nothing really…no real….”
Except there was something, and the truth brings tears to my eyes. He held my hand, took me to that hokey little lumberjack competition, comforted me, cheered me, made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, and I
“I miss him,” I acknowledge in a whisper.
Christy nods.
“He was at CVS,” I say. “He knew I wasn’t you.”
Her eyebrows pop up. “Wow.”
“I know.”
We have fooled everyone at one point or anotherour parents, our brother, our teachers, our closest friends. Only Will has never once confused us.
And now Malone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“MAGGOT, you think you could run lunch down to Dad and me at the dock? We’re overhauling the engine on the Menace and we’re a mess.”
“Sure, baby boy,” I tell my brother. I’ve been at the diner since six this morning, and now, at nearly two, the place is empty. I could use the fresh air.
Today’s special was lobster bisque, and there’s just enough left over from the two giant vats I made this morning for Dad and Jonah. I throw together a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches on pumpernickel and fix two coffees the way my menfolk like them. A few coconut macaroons, plus one for me, and I bag everything up and set out to the dock.
The sun is blindingly bright today, and it’s still cold enough that the snow has stayed on the ground. I walk carefully down the gangplank, clutching the boys’ lunch to my chest, watching my feet so I don’t take a header (wouldn’t be the first time). I’m surprised to see my dad standing in a group of four or five men, who are apparently supervising Jonahthat is to say, they’re slouching helpfully at the base of the gangplank, gossiping while a banging noise comes from my brother’s boat.
“Hi, Dad,” I call. “Hi, guys.”
“Hello, sweetheart,” Dad says, giving me a one-armed hug. “How’s my girl? Need a hand? Isn’t she pretty, boys? My little girl, all grown up.”
I blink as the boys murmur assent. “Well. Thanks, Dad. Aren’t you…jovial.” I smile up at my dad. “Where do you want to eat?”
“Oh, I guess you can bring it to the captain, honey. Thanks.”
“Your father nearly lost his finger today,” Sam comments. The men guffaw as my father raises his hand and wiggles his fingers at me. “First thing you gotta learn, there, Mitch! Those mothers clamp down pretty goddamn hard!”
Apparently, this is hilarious, because the men all bark with laughter, Dad right along with them.
Bemused, I walk down the dock to the Menace. Seeing Dad out with the boys…it’s different. “Jonah, lunch is here,” I call as I step carefully onto the boat.
The door of the hold opens, and Malone comes out. My heart lurches, then sinks.
He’s wearing his black peacoat and a scowl, wiping his hands on a rag. “Maggie,” he grunts.
“Malone,” I grunt back, instantly irritated. “Excuse me.”
He doesn’t step aside, just stares at me, looking both angry and…well, no, just angry.
“What? What do you want? Huh, Malone?” I snap.
“Hey, Mags, do you have enough for Malone, too?” Jonah sticks his head out of the hold. “He’s giving us a hand.” His head pops back in and he resumes banging.
“No, I don’t have anything for you,” I mutter, staring at Malone.
“You sure about that?” he asks, eyes narrowing.
“Iyou” My mouth works a minute before I force it closed. “Have a lovely day.”
“Maggie,” Malone says.
“What, Malone?” I ask, and I’m suddenly desperate for him to say something that would make everything the way it was, that would erase him and Chantal and whatever they did together, and the intensity of that longing makes my chest ache.