Home Free - Fern Michaels [64]
“At least I won’t be alone for a little while,” Maggie muttered as she entered the house, turned off the alarm, and turned up the heat. She ran upstairs and changed into jeans and a sweatshirt. With nothing else to do, she went back downstairs to wait for her neighbor. To while away the time, she opened the storage closet under the stairs and rummaged till she found the Christmas ornaments and the neatly coiled lights that she had wrapped around a cardboard paper towel cylinder last year. It was a household hint she’d seen on Martha Stewart’s morning show one year. And it worked. Good old Martha.
Maggie’s cell phone took that moment to ring. A second later her doorbell chimed. She looked down at the number on the phone: Gus. She turned the phone to vibrate and shoved it in the bread box sitting on the kitchen counter. She ran back to the front door, where her neighbor was standing, holding a tray of food.
“Meat loaf and roasted potatoes and some carrots. Mom makes great meat loaf. Eat it now, while it’s warm, she said. I can get the tree in the stand, if you tell me where it is.” He handed over the tray of food, then picked up the tree like it was a toy, shook off the water, and carried it into the house.
Maggie pointed to the corner by the fireplace.
“Good choice. Go ahead and eat. I really can do this. I put our tree up over the weekend.”
Sometimes, Maggie liked taking orders, like now, especially when food was involved. She kept her eyes on the bread box as she ate. She could tell the phone was vibrating by the way the bread box moved against the ceramic canisters.
Two hours later, Maggie was sitting alone in her family room, the only light coming from the TV, which was on mute, and the colored Christmas lights twinkling on the tree. It was beautiful, even though the ornaments weren’t heirloom quality. She stared at it and felt sad. So sad she wanted to cry. Big girls don’t cry, she told herself. And then she cried. When she was done sniffling and chastising herself for the tears, she hauled out her laptop, which she’d wedged between the sofa cushions, and powered up. Drown yourself in work, she told herself. That way you don’t have to think.
Maggie Spritzer, you are so stupid. Just because Gus Sullivan mentioned your friends doesn’t mean he was referring to your relationship with the vigilantes. Yes, it does, she argued with herself. He was making a point. You got too close, too quick. You acted like a ninny when you ran out of there. Now what are you going to do?
Maggie craned her neck to look into her kitchen. She could see the bright red bread box. All she had to do was get up and go into the kitchen, take her cell phone out of the bread box, and listen to Gus’s messages or read his texts. That was all she had to do. It seemed like a monumental task. She shook her head to clear her thoughts.
Gus Sullivan was not Ted Robinson. She could not treat Gus the way she treated Ted and Abner. Not that she mistreated Ted and Abner, she sniffed. No, she just took advantage of them. She told herself it was apples and oranges, but she knew it wasn’t true.
As much as she hated to admit it, she knew she had to work on her emotions and her attitude. Maybe if she slept on what she considered her situation, she’d have a plan in the morning. Then again, maybe she wouldn’t. Tears in her eyes, she stared at the beautiful Christmas tree. Sometimes, life was such a bitch. She needed a hug. She leaned back into the softness of the sofa she was sitting on and closed her eyes. Sleep came quickly. The dream came just as quickly.
“Why are we standing in a straight line, and why are we sporting these gold shields?” Nikki Quinn asked. “No one is supposed to know we have them.”
“The president gave them to us for a reason. She didn’t tell us what the reason is or was. So, I suggest that we make them work for us,” Annie said.
“How?” the ever-combative and verbal Kathryn barked.
Charles Martin stepped out of the straight line and turned to face the group like a bandleader. In his hand, instead of a baton, he held his gold shield.