Page 23 of Wild Curves
My heart shatters into a hundred pieces. She turns away and heads to the bedroom. But I’m too stunned to follow. I’ve never met anyone so determined and so infuriatingly stubborn.
Maggie comes out a few moments later fully dressed, and I silently pick up my keys.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work out like you wanted, Arlo.”
“Life doesn’t always work out, Maggie. That’s the point. If you get a shot at happiness, you should take it. Because you don’t know what’s going to work out and what’s not.”
I don’t wait for a reply. I grab the helmets and head out to the bike.
She wants me to drop her off. That’s what I’ll do, but I’ll be damned if I’m giving up on her.
11
MAGGIE
“Try to get to the hairdresser once in a while, will you, MeMe?”
Mom pats the top of my head forlornly as if it’s got a personality of its own and it’s a wayward teenager.
“I’ll try.” I duck my head out of her reach and scoot around her to where Dad’s wrangling the suitcases. I give him a big hug, and we share a look.
“Take care of yourself.” His eyes are full of concern, picking up on the heaviness that’s settled on me.
“I’m going to take these to the car.” Dad wheels the suitcases out the door, and I’m left with Mom.
There’s a churning in my gut that I’ve felt all day. I did the lunch shift at work; Travis was surprised to see me, but no one turned down the extra help in the kitchen.
I met my parents in the afternoon and had to listen to Mom go on about how great Allan is and when we’ll be having babies.
This charade was supposed to get her off my back, but all I’ve done is make her more impatient for grandkids.
“Look after Allan, won’t you?”
She’s peering at me like she knows something’s wrong, and suddenly I can’t take it anymore. I’ve made a mess out of everything, and I’m done pretending.
“His name’s Arlo.”
Mom tilts her head and eyes me suspiciously. “I thought it was Allan.”
I shake my head. “No Mom. And he’s not my boyfriend either.”
Her mouth drops open.
“Maggie, what happened? I thought you were off today. Did you two break up? It’s not because we’re here, is it?”
I close my eyes and wait for her to stop talking while a headache forms behind my forehead. When she finally does, I speak.
“He was never my boyfriend, Mom.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, and for the first time in my life I wish she’d say something. Finally she sucks in her breath.
“Well, I thought you were acting strange.”
I hate the hurt on her face, but now that I’ve started telling the truth, it all comes out.
“I pretended he was my boyfriend because I wanted you to stop hassling me about having kids.”
Mom’s mouth drops open. “I do not hassle you.”
