Unlikely Allies (24 page)

“If they get caught, then they can use their powers to get free. But they can’t use their magic on humans, so he couldn’t help her that way. Since he didn’t live far from there, he promised the girl he would be right back. At his house he had tons of tools because he’s a shoemaker. When he returned, he took out the ones he needed, put them in his pockets, and climbed the tree. Cutting a hole in the net, he helped the little girl get out. Together they climbed down the branches, holding on to each other until they reached the ground. The girl was so happy, but the leprechaun was not. He knew that she would go away like many others, leaving him all alone again. Grateful the leprechaun saved her, she wanted to give him a gift. She removed her necklace, kissing each of the three petals before putting it on the leprechaun.” Rick picked up the pendant and showed it to Cece.

“A shamrock, just like yours. These petals mean something.” He tapped the first one on the left. “This one stands for hope. The little girl, Rachael was her name, told the leprechaun she hoped all his wishes would come true.” He pointed to the middle leaf. “This one is love. She wished the leprechaun would find love and happiness.” He touched the last petal. “This one is faith. She held the leprechaun’s hands in hers and told him she’d be his friend for life and to have faith in that promise. And that is what I wish for you, sweet pea.”

Kat sniffled behind her, and once again, tears drenched Maggie’s cheeks, and Rick’s and Cece’s too as they hugged each other.

Not long after, he gave Cece a final embrace and quietly said, “I’ll pick her up next Sunday at noon.” Then left before the first guest arrived. Too stunned for words, Maggie nodded and waved as he walked out the door. Cece hit replay on
The
Lion King
video, preparing for her chance to “meet Simba.” And Kat volunteered to tie some balloons on the mailbox.

In the past, cooking kept her mind preoccupied and helped calm her. Now though, nothing could keep her mind off Rick’s gloomy frown, slouched shoulders, and shuffled departure.

Maggie and Kat carried the food, while Cece stood on her tiptoes and rang the doorbell way too many times.

When the barn style, paneled entrance swung open, Emma jumped in too, removing one of the three bags Maggie had clutched to her chest. “Oh my, I would have come out to help.”

Cece dashed around Emma, into the foyer and down a hallway, exploring the new surroundings. Maggie yelled, “Stop,” and for once her daughter listened.

They followed Emma past a cozy family room with a fireplace and dining room with an antique oblong table in the center, into a massive kitchen with snow-white cabinets. Casement windows and French doors comprised an entire wall, offering a crystal clear view of the picturesque backyard. The lush lawn and floral gardens were even more magnificent, surrounding a pond big enough to fish in. Cece entertained as usual, chatting in hyper-speed mode, telling Emma about her “big girl, I five” princess party. The topic of discussion for a week now. More than polite, Emma asked questions and oohed and aahed, giving Cece the attention she adored.

After numerous trips to the car and the essentials piled on the butcher-block island, the eight-foot-wide countertop disappeared. Kat and Cece said their goodbyes, making a quick exit before Maggie could suck them into helping with the enormous job. The only things on their minds were
The Penguins of Madagascar
movie, a visit to Build-a-Bear, and the Brooklyn aquarium.

Emma had no problem, though, unpacking the bags along with her.

“I didn’t realize how much it would take to feed fifty people.”

Maggie was used to preparing for any type of event at her grandparents’ restaurant, which had an additional thousand square feet for catering weddings, class reunions, or corporate functions. This party wouldn’t be much different. She put the contents in the double-wide refrigerator, lined up the items for the first recipe on an empty counter near the windows, and fell into the comforting motions that were old hat to her. “The menu you chose has a nice selection. Your guests will have plenty of options. We’ll start with hors d’oeuvres at four. Where would you like that set up?”

“Between the living and dining room. The doors slide open. We’ll put tables there.”

Maggie nodded, noticing that feature too. The vintage panels suspended on tracks would expand the space, providing ample room for fifty. “Your home is beautiful. How long have you lived here?”

Emma’s whimsical smile appeared and vanished with a tinge of sadness. “My husband, Max, had it built for me not long after we married.”

Maggie’s pounding heart beat into her ears. Cece’s insightful knack for choosing nicknames hit her full force.

“He passed away over a decade ago, but it still feels like yesterday.”

Reaching across the island, Maggie’s tingling hand took hold of Emma’s.

“He was such an amazing man just like Rick. The two of them were inseparable. Max worked long hours, but he always dropped everything for his son. Nothing got in the way of their time together. It didn’t matter my husband was still getting his company off the ground. What mattered most to him was family.”

“You mentioned how you met, but you never told me the rest.” She’d always been fascinated how couples ended up together. As bittersweet as the story would be, she hoped Emma decided to share.

The grin that appeared contrasted with Emma’s previous one and remained as she revealed the past. “He was like a bulldog, relentless in his pursuit. When I didn’t call him, he stayed away for a month or so, and after that time, returned every day for lunch or dinner, depending on when I was working. I found out later he didn’t come back on purpose. It had been part of his strategy. He told me sometimes you don’t realize life’s true gifts until there’s a risk, and you’re confronted with losing it forever.” Tears pooled in Emma’s eyes, but they didn’t fall. She drew in several deep breaths, sucking them back and replacing them with renewed concentration. The perseverance and determination Emma admired in her husband were embodied in her too.

“I fell in love with him a little more every visit. He was such an easy person to talk to. As our conversations evolved, they got deeper. He buttered me up by bringing a different flower each time.” Emma pointed to her backyard. “Every one of them, he planted for me too.” A tear rolled down Emma’s cheek. Maggie squeezed Emma’s hand, holding back her own.

“There aren’t many men that compassionate,” Maggie mumbled, envisioning Emma’s husband on his knees, digging in the dirt, leaving his mark and beauty on his sweetheart’s life.

“Rick is. He just needs the right woman.”

Maggie looked toward the pond, turning her back on Emma’s momma-knows-best inspection. She refused to discuss that hot topic. Grabbing the nearest bag, she pulled out the homemade bread and pastry shells, placing them on a cutting board by the windows. Emma paid her no mind though and kept talking.

“He’s had a hard time since his father’s death. He worries so much about making his company a success, he doesn’t give love a chance. It breaks my heart to see the business take over his life. His dad never would’ve wanted that. Yeah, Max had grand plans to work with his son. But as much as he wanted that, he would’ve sold it all if he knew it would hurt Rick like it has. Max believed in family first and work later. More than anything, he wanted his son to find love and happiness, get married and have kids. He always said that’s what brought him the most joy. He wished the same for Rick.”

During Emma’s hard-to-tune-out plea, she imagined Rick at various stages, toddling along the grass, his father close behind in case he stumbled, and sitting on the dock, his dad with a fishing pole in hand, teaching his son how to cast and reel. Just like her dad had done at their favorite watering hole. “Is he okay?” Caught in the melancholy spirit, her concern for Rick grew. She moved around the island and sat on a stool next to Emma. “I mean, he came by our place last week to give Cece her birthday gifts. But he seemed worried, depressed, I don’t know. I didn’t ask.” Disgusted by her childish behavior, she avoided him all week by taking the stairwell instead of going by his suite. “I should have.”

“He puts on a good show most of the time. But just bundles everything up and refuses to talk about his problems. He thinks I’ll be disappointed if he says anything negative about work. He worries so much about my feelings. I’ve told him a thousand times I’m proud of him no matter what he does. He just pretends everything’s hunky dory. I even told him to sell the company. You would’ve thought I asked him to cut off his head as pale as he got. But he sucked it up. Instead of screaming or yelling at me, or even telling me hell no, he pretended I hadn’t said anything.” Emma’s sighs exposed the agony and concern for her only child. Something Maggie could relate to. A phone rang and Emma hopped up from her seat, running out of the kitchen.

Instead of jumping into preparations, Maggie opened the French doors and walked to the pond, gazing into the ripples. Tomorrow he’d pick Cece up for
The Lion King.
Maybe she could talk to him. She didn’t know what she’d say. Hopefully, she’d figure it out by then. One thing for certain, she wouldn’t tell him she was in love with him. That would open up a whole other mess she couldn’t handle. Being the first to admit her feelings hadn’t turned out so well before. She pushed Jake to marry her and didn’t want to be in that situation again. Besides, he might love Cece, but what man could take on Maggie’s “idiot-syncrasies” as Kat called them. Just as Emma admitted, he focused on business. No doubt Rick would be opposed to a woman plus one and repelled by an insta-family.

Well, at least being a mother taught her a valuable lesson—sacrifice.

It wouldn’t be the first time she went without.

And it won’t be the last.

B
ETTER LATE THAN NEVER. TWENTY
novels ago, arriving a half hour past the start of the release party might’ve been an issue. Now though, Rick’s mother had become accustomed to his tardiness. As much as he took pride in her accomplishments, the crowd, almost all women, drained him. Another social function where he’d have to chat up strangers, make nice, and talk about one useless topic after another. Besides, it never failed that a female writer, editor, or some other guest whose name he couldn’t remember came on to him. The number of diversions he’d have to come up with was exhausting.

“Honey, I’m so glad you made it.” Mother radar on high alert, she noticed as soon as he entered the family room.

“Congratulations. May you write a hundred more. No offense, but I think this is your best yet.” He pulled her into a hug, whispering the last part in her ear.

She pinched his cheek, replacing the sting with a kiss. “It’s easy when you love what you do.”

Sensing an underlying message, he tucked his arm around her, leading her to the food and hoping she’d find something else to focus on. He picked up a mushroom cap resembling Maggie’s and popped it into his mouth. Tasted like hers too. “Mmm, very good, Mom. Your caterer didn’t make these before. They’re excellent.” He ate three more, careful to maintain decorum, even though he wanted to scarf down the whole tray. They were that good.

“Thank you, sweetie. I used a different caterer this time. That’s why.”

He moved on to the next tray, sampling a bacon-wrapped something on a skewer. “Oh my God. What is that? It’s phenomenal.” He spoke with a mouthful. Not waiting for her response, he ate another.

She giggled and said, “You wouldn’t believe what those are called, angels on horseback. They’re an English specialty with oysters inside.” Pointing to each selection she rattled off the rest, all of which he planned on diving into after he ate at least ten more of heaven in bacon first. “Bavarian meatballs, Chinese pot stickers with veggies and pork, Greek grape leaves stuffed with rice and lamb, falafel, it’s a Middle Eastern fried chickpea patty, and I can’t have a party without my favorite, German deviled eggs.”

“Well, you’ve got at least half a dozen countries represented. Nothing like traveling the globe for your release. When do you go on the book tour?” He walked around the tables, picking and sampling.