Page 10 of Ransom

Maggie nods, understanding without need for further explanation. She's been there through it all—the good times with Ransom, the bad, and everything in between.

"Well, then," she says, giving my shoulders a squeeze before returning to the stove. "We'll just have to figure out another way to get him off your back."

I manage a weak smile. "Got any ideas?"

Maggie winks at me over her shoulder. "I might have one or two. But first, dinner. You look like you could use a good meal and a distraction."

As if on cue, Max's voice pipes up from the living room. "Mom! Aunt Blair! Can we watch Survivor while we eat?"

Maggie and I share a look, both of us fighting back laughter. Fucking addict. And Maggie’s his dealer. "Not a chance in hell, sweetie," Maggie calls back. "Set the table for us, okay?"

“Hypocrite,” I mutter.

“Shut up.”

Max bursts into the kitchen, a whirlwind of energy. He scrambles onto the counter, reaching for the plates and cups with the agility of a monkey. The stool in the corner sits unused, as always. Maggie catches my eye and shrugs, a silent acknowledgment that this battle isn't worth fighting anymore. Doesn’t matter how many times she tells him he’s going to fall and crack his head open, he doesn’t listen.

We settle around the table, steam rising from bowls of chili. Max launches into a detailed account of his day, his words tumbling out faster than he can shovel food into his mouth.

"And then Nikki dared me to eat a worm, but I told her that's gross, so we decided to collect rocks instead. We found this really cool one that looks like a dinosaur egg!"

Maggie nods along, asking questions and laughing at his story. I try to focus on the conversation, but my mind keeps drifting. The weight of everything—the garage, Ransom, and most of all, Maggie's illness—presses down on me.

I push the chili around my bowl, taking small bites when I notice Maggie glancing my way. The normalcy of this scene—family dinner, Max's chatter, Maggie's laughter—it's all so precious. And so damn fragile.

Some days, I can almost forget about the cancer lurking beneath the surface. But today, with my defenses already wornthin, I can't shake the fear. What if this is one of our last dinners together? What will Max and I do without her?

I force myself to take another bite, trying to swallow past the lump in my throat. Maggie reaches over and squeezes my hand, a silent understanding passing between us. I try not to talk about my worries, but she somehow already knows. She knows me.

After dinner, we gather around the coffee table, the worn Uno deck spread before us. Max's eyes gleam with mischief as he slaps down a Draw Four card.

"Boom! Take that, Aunt Blair!"

I groan, reaching for the pile. "You little monster."

Maggie chuckles, her fingers absently tracing the edge of her headscarf. "He's ruthless. I like that about him."

"Of course you do. He only does it to me."

"He loves his mama," she says, smirking.

The game continues, filled with laughter and playful jabs. For a moment, everything feels normal. But as the clock ticks closer to Max's bedtime, a familiar weight settles in my chest.

Maggie starts gathering the cards. "Alright, Max. Time to get ready for bed."

Max whines, but Maggie's gentle insistence wins out. She turns to me, hope in her eyes. "Blair, want to join us for story time?"

I hesitate, the words catching in my throat. "I... I think I'll pass tonight."

Disappointment flickers across Maggie's face, but she nods. "Okay, honey. I'll see you in a bit."

As they head upstairs, I slump onto the couch, guilt gnawing at me. I should be up there, helping, being part of their routine.Just in case. It will be easier on him if you're a part of it all. Easier if...But I can't bring myself to intrude on their time together. Every moment Maggie has with Max is precious now.

And trying to hold my shit together while I watch them is getting harder and harder.

I don't know how long I sit there, lost in thought, before Maggie's soft footsteps bring me back to reality.

"He's asleep," she says, settling beside me. Her hand finds mine, squeezing gently. "Blair, we need to talk."

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