She sounded more… not upbeat, exactly, but not the way she had before, where her tone had been determined and in a way that told me it wasn’t going to go in my favor. In fact she sounded almost hesitant. “I convinced my parents to take Fern to the party without me, I was hoping that we could—that you could come over? And we could talk? I’m alone and I figured—this would be a good time.”
“Of course.” I kept my voice soothing. Maggie had a lot to think about. So did I. I’d just discovered that I had a daughter I didn’t know about, and I was realizing quickly just how far gone for Maggie I was, more far gone than I ever would’ve guessed if you’d asked me about it just a few months ago. But Maggie—Maggie had more to lose in this than I did. Her head must’ve been spinning. And she was younger, I had to remember that. Not just in an ‘this will never work’ way but in a ‘be mindful of her experiences’ kind of way.
“I’ll head right on over,” I assured her.
“Thanks.” I could hear her grateful smile through the phone. I could picture it in my mind, so clearly. Already I was able to imagine her with a painful clarity, and it made my heart race.
It had never been like this with my wife, back in the day. We had sort of fallen together, casually, almost, and we had gotten married because that had felt like it was what we were supposed to do. I hadn’t ever really thought that the fierce, sudden dive into love was really for me. That was what I had my art for after all, wasn’t it? I fell madly in love with every city I traveled to, I fell madly in love with every artistic idea that I latched onto—maybe falling crazily in love with a person wasn’t in the cards.
Now, though…
Pulling up in front of the Simpson house, I took a few steadying breaths. I had taken more care in my outfit than I normally would, and triple-checked my hair. Even if this was just to sit down and talk, I wanted… I wanted to impress her. I’d never had to actually really work to impress a woman before. Usually I just walked in and smiled and the women fell at my feet. But not Maggie
Even back five years ago when she had wanted us to be together… she had never swooned, exactly. She’d never just fallen at my feet. If only I’d appreciated her when I’d had the chance—appreciated how ready she was to give us a chance, how hopeful and optimistic she was.
Now I was having to pay for that and do the work to earn her back. I just hoped it was enough. That I was enough.
I got out of the car and walked up to the door. It opened before I even nocked and I realized that Maggie must’ve been waiting for me, watching. It reassured me somewhat to know that she was just as nervous as I was. We would figure this out together, I told myself. I knew I hadn’t been reunited with her for long but I was already certain about my feelings—even if she might not be ready for me to say them to her out loud.
I was in love with her. And I was head over heels for Fern, too. I wanted a life with them, and I wasn’t ready to settle for anything less.
Maggie let me in. “Hi.” Her voice was soft, shy. “Why don’t you… do you need anything to drink? Water or soda, or…” She didn’t suggest alcohol, which I felt was a smart choice. We needed to be fully sober for this discussion, no matter how it went.
“I’m good,” I assured her. She was clearly so nervous, and I wanted to just pull her into my arms and comfort her… but I wasn’t sure how that would be met. Maggie had something she wanted to say. I couldn’t distract her from that or make it seem like I thought she was a child who needed coddling.
Maggie sat down on the couch and I sat down across from her, fighting every urge in me that told me to sit next to her, to stay close to her. Maggie wasn’t quite looking at me—her gaze would dart to me and then away again, her blonde hair falling a little into her face, like she was trying to hide.
“Take some deep breaths,” I counseled her, keeping my tone gentle.
Maggie shot me a look of gratefulness, like she was startled into looking at me properly, and then she swallowed. “I’ve been thinking about what you said back at your place. About… about Fern and me moving in.”
“I know that it’s fast,” I assured her. “I don’t think that this is normal, or anything. I’m aware this is… this isn’t my style, even. You know.”