Page 84 of Goodbye Paradise
I took a sip, because it was easier than talking. Maggie’s barley soup was divine, too.
“That was my favorite mug, too,” she said suddenly.
“Mmm?”
“That whole set of mugs came from Daniel’s grandmother’s house. When they moved her into a condo, he took some things for his first apartment. I don’t know when the blue one got chipped. But that was my favorite. Still is.”
I looked up in surprise. “Sorry…” I’d been using her mug for a year now, and she never said anything.
Maggie grinned at me. “The thing is, I saw Miriam choose that one this morning, too. There’s something special about it.”
“Mmm,” I said around a spoonful of soup.
“The glaze has so many other colors hiding in it. Little flecks of red and yellow. It’s unexpected,” Maggie said. “But it’s also the chip. That ugly gash of white, right where it shouldn’t be. No matter how the mug is turned, you can always see it.”
This was true.
Maggie reached over and put a finger over the rough spot where the chip met the glaze. “It took me a long time to trust that Daniel really loved me. I had no confidence, Josh. That place took it all out of me.”
I found myself holding my breath, and I didn’t even know why. Maggie’s words probed the ache in my heart, the way you finger an injury, finding it tender.
“…I always chose this mug because it was just like me. I had a rough spot that could never be made smooth again.”
Looking down at the chip, I realized she was right. I’d selected this mug from Maggie’s collection the first time I drank coffee with her. There were three or four more perfect mugs I could have taken. But I thought this was the one I deserved. The broken, left-over thing.
“Miriam’s chip is even bigger than ours, I think,” she whispered.
I took a big bite of soup so that I didn’t have to meet her eyes.
“Caleb thinks it’s his fault.” Maggie laid a hand on my arm. “It isn’t, though.”
“He…” my voice was scratchy. “He left her there. I got tossed, and he left.” Talking about Caleb made meache. I was so angry at him, and so hurt. But I achedforhim too. Even when someone you love is being an asshole, it’s hard not to empathize. “Caleb was always the responsible one. Always. It kills him that he couldn’t save us both. His words.” And it killedmethat I needed to be saved at all. I did, though. Caleb saved me a year ago. Without him, I’d be in a homeless shelter in Cheyenne. Alone.
Maggie cringed. “Tonight, he came into the house with an armload of his clothes,” her eyes smiled at me. “He couldn’t even speak, he was so upset.”
“Oh,” I said, my voice flat.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“What did he say about it?”
“Nothing, honey. He put the clothes down, and he said he was going out. Then he got in his car and drove away.”
My neck began to prickle. “He’s not here?”
She shook her head.
“Where could he be?” Fear settled into my chest.
“Out?” Maggie suggested. “With a friend from the garage? Just because he isn’t home at ten o’clock doesn’t mean anything bad has happened to him.”
I blew out a breath, uneasy. “We had the most awful fight.”
“That happens,” Maggie whispered, her face gentle.
“It doesn’t, though.” Caleb and Ineverfought. “I slapped him, and I threw his clothes out the window.”
She clapped a hand over her mouth, and a nervous chuckle escaped. “Oh, Josh, I’m sorry to laugh. But that’s just not like you.”
