Catch of the Day (Gideon's Cove #1)(92)

I’m glad we didn’t end up together. That wasn’t always true, but it is now. Suddenly, I realize I don’t need anything from Skip.

“So, Maggie…” Skip says, pasting a fake smile on his lips. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, I guess I came for that apology you owe me, Skip,” I answer. The smile falls off his face with a nearly audible thud. “But…well, I don’t know. I thought it mattered. But it doesn’t.”

“Oh,” he says. The flush has his face in its grip now. “Well.”

“It was pretty bad, you know,” I tell him. “You bringing Annabelle to town, not telling me that we broke up.”

“That was a long time ago,” he mutters.

“You’re right. I guess I’ve sort of been cleaning house emotionally, you know? And it occurred to me that you never really…well. Like you said, it was a long time ago.” I stand up. “Sorry I wasted your time.”

Skip stands also. “That’s it?” he says, a hopeful note in his voice.

I laugh a little. “Yeah. Kind of anticlimactic, isn’t it?” I stick out my hand. “Take care. Your wife seems very nice.”

His hand is softer than mine, smooth and pampered. “Thank you, Maggie,” he says carefully. “Take care, yourself.” He makes a movement to the door, but I wave him off.

“I’ll see myself out. Goodbye, Skip.”

When I’ve just reached the door, his voice stops me. “Maggie?”

I turn. “Yeah?”

“I am sorry.” He looks a little forlorn, somehow. “I wish I’d done it better.”

I pause, then give a nod. “Thanks for saying so.”

I wave to the receptionist and walk out into the bright sunshine. “Well, that was a waste of gas,” I say to myself as I climb back in my car. But I’m laughing as I say it.

Around five, I find the building where my mother works and climb the stairs to the third floor. For a second, I just watch her from the doorway—she sits behind the reception counter, wearing a headset, talking animatedly. The wall behind her has Mainah Magazine painted in large green letters.

“Hi, Mom,” I say when she clicks off from her conversation.

“Maggie!” she cries. We hug and kiss, and I breathe in her familiar perfume, realizing that I’ve missed her.

“Don’t you look nice!” she says.

“You, too. I love your hair,” I tell her. She really does look lovely…not younger, exactly, but very stylish in her bright green top and pretty scarf.

“Let me introduce you,” Mom says, pulling me along. “Linda, this is my daughter, Maggie. Maggie, this is our editor, Linda Strong.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say, shaking her hand.

“Maggie owns a restaurant,” my mother announces. “Cara, this is my daughter, Maggie.”

“Hello, Maggie. We’ve heard a lot about you.” Cara shakes my hands. “Where are you going for dinner, Lena?”

“Well, first I’m going to show her my apartment, then I thought we’d go to Havana.”

The three women take a moment to discuss the various restaurant choices while I revel in the rare glow of my mom’s pride. A restaurant owner. She’s never called me that before. Formerly, I was a cook or I ran a diner, but today, I own a restaurant.

She loves hearing about my visit to Skip, loves showing me her tiny apartment. Honestly, I can’t remember a time when she’s gone for so long without criticizing me.

“Do you miss Dad?” I ask as we eat dinner.

She thinks a minute. “Yes and no,” she says. “It’s quiet in the evenings. I’m so used to having him just be there, I suppose.” Her voice trails off. “I don’t really do anything on my own yet. But there are times when I think I’ve never been happier. I caught a mistake the other day, and Linda told me she didn’t know I could proofread, and now she’s asked me to look over everything before it goes out.”

“That’s great, Mom. It sounds like you really like it,” I say, watching her flush with pleasure.

“I do. But there are also times when I cry, I’m so lonely,” she adds.

“We miss you. All of us.”

“I’ll be home this weekend,” she says. “To see the baby, and everyone else, of course.” She pauses. “How are you, honey?”

“I’m okay,” I say. “I…well. There are some things that are clearer to me these days, and I’m trying to kind of sort them out.”

“Like what?” Mom asks.

“Oh, I don’t know.” I take another bite of fish, then decide to tell her. “I’m over my stupid crush on Father Tim.”

“Finally.” She smiles, not unkindly. “Are you seeing anyone, Maggie?”

I feel my back stiffen, preparing for battle. “No.”

“I might have someone for you, dear,” she says. “He works at—”

“No, thanks, Mom. I need a little break from dating, actually,” I interrupt. I take a breath. “I was seeing someone for a few weeks. Remember Malone?”

“Malone? The lobsterman?”

“Right. Well, we were kind of seeing each other, but then we had a fight.” I take a gulp of water.