Maine - J. Courtney Sullivan [178]
“Don’t worry,” Maggie said. “I’m already working on getting my mother out of here.”
Maggie opened the card. Seeing the folded-up catalog page inside, she asked, “What’s this?”
“Just a token from me to you,” Ann Marie said.
Maggie unfolded the page and smiled strangely. “A stroller?” she said.
“It’s called the Bugaboo Bee,” Ann Marie said. She pointed to the description. “See, it says here that this model ‘answers the call of the modern! Compact yet complete, for parents who live life on the fly!’ It sounded like a good fit for a city gal to me. I had it shipped to your apartment. It should be waiting there when you get home.”
“Oh my gosh,” Maggie said, staring down at the glossy sheet of paper in her hands. “This is too much. Thank you.”
Ann Marie had tried to cross out the price with a pen, but she had succeeded only at drawing attention to the figure: six hundred dollars—that’s what these things went for today. On some level, the gift was a bribe. If, God forbid, Maggie was having any doubts about keeping the baby, then seeing a beautiful stroller in her apartment day after day would serve to remind her that she was carrying a blessed child and needed to stay the course.
“I have to go, honey. I have scallops in the oven. Come over later and say hello to our friends.”
“I will,” Maggie said. She hugged Ann Marie tight and Ann Marie felt like she might cry too.
“Thank you so much,” Maggie said.
“It’s nothing.”
She wondered what on earth had turned Maggie into such a good girl—she was so sweet and polite. It was probably because Maggie had had to look after herself a bit, same as Ann Marie had. Before she could think it over she blurted out, “You can come live with me and Pat, now or when the baby comes. I’ll take care of you. If you want.”
“That’s really generous,” Maggie said. “I guess we’ll see how it all shakes out.”
She nodded. “Fine.”
Ann Marie went into the house to put on one of her new Lilly Pulitzer dresses. It was sherbet green, with pink blossoms printed all over. She hadn’t even taken the tags off yet, and when she did so and pulled it on, she thought she looked pretty cute. She applied a bit of lip gloss and mascara, and then she waited.
They turned their cars onto the grass a short while later and got out, all three of them talking and laughing, changing the quiet energy in the air. Ann Marie walked outside to greet them.
“Hi there!” she said cheerfully. “Welcome!”
“Ann Marie,” Linda said, hugging her. “This place is to die for.”
“Oh, you’re sweet,” she said in a modest tone she had learned years ago when they first moved to Newton.
Steve came up behind his wife, with an oversize duffel bag on each shoulder. He gave Ann Marie an awkward hug, since the bags kept lurching forward, but he said, “You look great. I think this ocean view agrees with you.”
She felt the same flutter that she always did in his presence.
“Well, come on in. I’ve got scallops and strawberries and a cheese plate and a bottle of wine with your name on them,” she said, thinking about what it would feel like to kiss him.
“Always the hostess with the mostess,” Linda said.
Pat was behind Steve. When he reached her, he gave her a long, hard squeeze.
“I’ve missed you,” he said.
She patted his face. He had definitely been sneaking fast food every day since she left. His cheeks looked puffy, and there were a couple extra pounds around his belly. She’d mention it later.
“Me too,” she said for now.
Inside the cottage, they left their bags in the hall and settled into the living room, where Ann Marie poured them all a glass of wine. She set the hors d’oeuvres on a big silver platter on the ottoman, like she had seen a hostess do in the last issue of House & Garden.
Steve sat at the piano bench, even though the armchair was empty and there was plenty of room beside Linda on the sofa.
He ran his fingers clumsily over the keys.
“You play?” Pat asked.
“Oh yes, I’m a regular Ray Charles,” he said. “You should hear my version of ‘Heart and Soul.’ ”
Pat started talking about the traffic,