Page 5 of The Me I Left Behind (Tuckaway Bay #4)

Three

Max called the morning of New Year’s Day.

Maggie chose not to answer.

Out of spite. Out of fear. Or just being goddamn stubborn. She refused to talk on his terms. When the time came, she wanted some sort of edge—even if it was simply being prepared for the call.

Today was not that day.

Pacing her kitchen, she watched a skiff of snow drift over the back deck.

The kids were upstairs in their rooms, playing, sleeping, whatever.

School started back tomorrow for the semester, so she had to make sure they got to bed early tonight.

They’d had too many late nights over the holiday, and frankly, were all exhausted.

Herself, included.

“Mom!” Carol bounded down the stairway, her phone in hand. The look on her face told Maggie she was upset, concerned, something. She made it to the landing and pushed her phone toward her. “It’s him,” she mouthed, her hand over the microphone. “Dad.”

Motherfucker!

Maggie stared at her daughter. “Jesus. What does he want?”

Carol shook her head. “What do you think? Just asked if you were home and said he wanted to talk to you.”

With a sigh, she took Carol’s phone. “We need to get new phone numbers.” She waved Carol off, indicating she should go back upstairs, but her daughter just stood there. Waiting. Apparently not going anywhere.

Maggie put the phone to her ear. She refused to put him on speaker. “What do you want, Max?”

There was a brief pause, then he said, “We need to talk. Are the kids around?”

She looked at Carol, still standing there watching, listening. “No, the kids are all upstairs.” Hell, Carol knew everything anyway, so why shield her from any of this now? Besides, her ass was making a permanent dent in the stair tread.

“Good. Mags, things have changed in my life, and….”

“Oh, fuck, Max. Spare me the sordid story. I know what you are going to say. You got some chick knocked up in Australia and now you think you want to play house with her. So, go screw yourself and your new pitiful life, too.”

Again, silence from his end.

“Say something.”

“You think you got this all figured out, don’t you?”

“Jesus, Max. I don’t have a damn thing figured out, and I won’t until you stop changing the rules of the game. That’s all this is, right? A fucking game?”

Max snickered.

She was in no mood for his fucking games. “So, tell me. Why call today? Is there some sort of symbolism in that? New year? New kid? New woman? New life? What a fucking idiot I have been. Of all things, I truly did not see this coming.”

He laughed out loud. So loud, in fact, she pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at Carol, who apparently could also hear him.

“Glad I could still surprise you, sweetheart. I thought perhaps I’d gone stale on that.”

She walked away from the stairs and Carol, and into the living room. Standing dead center in the room, between the piano and the massive wall of bookshelves, she stared out the picture window and into the street. “Max?”

“You don’t know everything.”

“I know enough.”

“So, Carol told you.”

She huffed. “Leave her alone. Do you hear me? She was upset. Devastated, really. Do you have any idea how traumatic something like that is for a kid? Especially for a child who adores you? No, you don’t, because you don’t fucking care.”

“I love my daughter, Maggie.”

“Right. So, you expected her to stay quiet and wait for you to call? Don’t put that kind of pressure on our kids. Jesus, Max. It’s been over a week. You could have called sooner.”

He ignored that. “Do the other kids know?”

Other kids . Like, Carol was the only one who really mattered. “No.”

“Good. Let me tell them.”

“Over my dead body,” she sneered.

“That would make things easier, don’t you think?”

Anxiety raced through her like a jolt of electrical current.

Is that a threat? She turned back to seek Carol’s eyes, meeting her gaze.

She still sat on the bottom step, her arms crossed over her chest, rocking a little.

Maggie watched her pull in her lower lip with her teeth and bite. Nervous gestures.

“Of all the stupid shit, Max. This takes the cake.”

“Settle down, Maggie. Get a grip.”

She whirled back and paced again toward the window. “A grip? You want me to get a fucking grip? Jesus. Are you an adolescent? You’re forty-six years old.”

“I’m a grown man who can make his own decisions, Maggie.”

“Well, goody for you. When do I get to grow up? Make my own decisions. Fuck around on you?” The second those words were out of her mouth, she panicked. She knew how he’d take them.

“You knew the deal.”

“Yes, and I was too young and stupid to na?ve to realize what I was getting into, what it would lead to.”

“You enjoyed your perks. Right, honey?” His voice was softer, lower-pitched, seductive.

An immediate zip of sexual energy shot through her body, settling in her pelvis. Shit. She really didn’t want to go there. Didn’t even want to have this conversation. “Shut up, Max. I had no choice.”

“You could have walked.”

“How? You wouldn’t let me.”

“Goddamn, Mags, you’ve always had the power to make your own decisions. In fact, all you ever had to do was make one decision and your life would be your own.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“To leave.”

“Excuse me?”

“You can leave anytime you want, but if you do, you’ll lose more than you will gain.”

That’s right. She’d lose everything. Her kids, her home… My kids .

“If that’s true, Max, then why in the hell do you even want me? Why are you tying me to this marriage with threats like that when you don’t even want to be in it? I don’t get it.”

He laughed. “Damn, Mags. Don’t you get it? You’re convenient. You take care of things—the kids, the house, me… I don’t want to train someone else.”

His words literally stabbed her in the heart. “I’m the babysitter and housekeeper.”

“Perhaps,” he said. “With perks.”

“And please tell me your definition of perks?” She knew what he was talking about, but wanted to hear him say it.

He chuckled again. “Well, me, for one. You get to fuck me regularly—when I’m home, that is. And there’s the house, the money, and all that.”

Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the noise unexpectedly crowding her head. Was Carol still in the room? She didn’t want to look back and see. “Gee. Lucky me.” Finally, she glanced back. Carol still sat there with her head in her hands. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

“I didn’t?”

“No. Why are you tying me to this marriage now? Appears to me you already have someone in training.”

“Eh. Time will tell.”

“But why, Max?”

He paused, and she could hear his low growly chuckle again. “Because I can, Mags. Why else?”

Right. Fucker. And I fell for it.

She needed to switch the subject. “Max, what are your plans? I need to know. Are you staying there or coming home as planned by the end of the month? I’m not up for any more surprises.”

Damn. She wished she hadn’t said that. Sounded weak. She needed to be up for anything he could throw at her. Every. Single. Day.

Again, he chuckled, and she could absolutely envision the stupid smirk on his face.

“I’ll call and let you know,” he said. “I’m still working some things out here. Tell the kids hello.”

He clicked off the phone.

Maggie stood there for a moment, the phone still to her ear.

Tell them hello? Not, I love you. I miss you. I’ll see you soon. Happy New Year?

Just hello?

Carol stepped up, took the phone out of her hand, and put her arms around her.

“He’s an ass, Mom. Let it go.”

If only.

With Chloe finally tucked into bed, Maggie softly closed her bedroom door—leaving it open a crack so the light would peek through, like she always wanted—and stepped out into the upstairs hallway.

Carol’s door was closed, as was Jason’s, and if they were still awake, at least they were quiet.

They’d both showered early, after dinner, and had headed to their rooms not long after.

They’d be there for the night, she was certain. Jason sometimes played video games until he fell asleep. Carol was probably figuring out her wardrobe for tomorrow and texting with friends. They’d sleep soon enough, if they weren’t already.

Heading downstairs, Maggie knew she’d rest very little tonight.

She had other things to deal with.

Max’s office was off limits to her and the children. Always had been. When he was home, it stayed locked during the day, but open at night so he could go in and out, working or not. When he was out of town, he kept it locked up tighter than a drum.

She’d never questioned it, nor did the kids. By now, it seemed normal.

But was it really? What did Max have in there that he did not want anyone to see or know about? While she could guess, she knew she was relatively oblivious.

Clueless. Max could be involved in anything, really.

She knew very little about his business, his clients, and all that entailed.

The only time he allowed her into his office for any length of time was when she was planning his trip itineraries, which Max trusted her to do because of her years spent as a flight attendant.

She knew the airports and kept up with the flight schedules and concourse changes, so she could get him to his destination and home again as efficiently as possible.

Of course, he was always in the room with her, looking over her shoulder while she worked on his laptop.

Not this time.

Maggie stood staring at the walnut-stained door to the office.

The room was situated just off the kitchen/family room area, down a short hallway.

Her gaze dropped to the handle, and she jiggled it—locked, of course, as expected.

Max had replaced the bedroom-door lock a few years back and had installed a coded keypad, plus a key lock.

She had to break through both—and no telling what she would come into contact with once she was inside.

Turning, she moved through the kitchen-family room area and headed to the garage, where she gathered up various tools from Max’s tool bench.