Authors: Kate Aster
“It’s Mick. He’s wondering if we wanted to
join him and a friend at O’Toole’s tonight.” Lacey shook her head furiously,
making it obvious she did not want to go.
Maeve grinned and replied loudly enough to
be heard on the other end of the phone. “Count us in, Mick! We’ll be there in
an hour.”
Lacey sent Maeve a skewering glare. “Did
you hear her?”
“Yeah. Is that Bess?”
“No, that’s Maeve.”
“Tell her an hour’s great with us.”
“Okay. See you there.” Lacey hung up,
looking again at the zit on her forehead. At least he wouldn’t have a hard time
being just friends with her looking like this. “Why did you do that, Maeve? Couldn’t
you see me shaking my head no?”
“Was
that
what that was?” Maeve
asked with feigned innocence. “I just thought you were shaking your head at the
idea of being alone…again…on a Saturday night.”
Lacey pouted.
“Oh, come on, Lacey. You need to get out. Besides,
I really want to get a better look at this guy.” Without waiting for a reply,
Maeve marched down the hall to Bess’s room.
***
When Maeve stepped into O’Toole’s, heads
turned. There was simply something about her that drew the eye. Her hair was
perfect. Her nails were perfect. Her outfit made her look like she had just
stepped off the pages of
Vogue
. In a perpetually casual city like
Annapolis, it defied the rules to wear anything dressier than jeans. But Maeve
always dressed a step above the rest, this evening in her favorite Michael Kors
ensemble with subtle, yet glimmering accessories.
Lacey personified dull standing beside her
in her capri jeans and T-shirt. She looked down at her flip-flops and cursed
herself for not at least borrowing some heels from Maeve. But that would give
the wrong impression, she consoled herself. If Mick was okay with just being
her friend, he better get used to the sight of her in flip-flops.
Bess trailed them reluctantly. Sullen
after being awakened from a nap, she seemed to go out of her way to fade into
the woodwork. Her baseball cap covered her gorgeous mop of red hair and she
hadn’t even bothered putting on one swipe of lipstick.
Given the choice, Lacey thought it wiser
to sit on Bess’s side of the table rather than next to Maeve.
Lacey smiled encouragingly at Bess. “You
look great. You really put yourself together fast. I envy that.”
Bess looked at her in disbelief. “What are
you, blind?”
Lacey turned her attention to Maeve. “And
you look fantastic, but that goes without saying.” She paused, hoping someone
might send a hint of a compliment her way. Her ego was sadly depleted tonight,
especially with Mount St. Helens poised to erupt on her forehead at any moment.
Maeve just looked down at Lacey’s feet and
shook her head. “Here,” she said in disapproval as she reached down to her
heels. “Trade.”
“No, I couldn’t.”
“Yes, you could. Aren’t they sassy? I got
them on a little shoe shopping detour when I was on a buying trip in New York.”
Slipping Maeve’s shoes on, Lacey
immediately felt better.
Satisfied, Maeve smiled. “Now I can say
it. You look great, too, and fabulous choice in shoes, Lacey. And you,” she paused,
eyeing Bess, “are a sport for coming. Sorry I dragged you out of bed. First
round’s on me. What do you want?”
“Chardonnay,” Lacey said, feeling far more
feminine now that she had heels.
“Ginger ale,” Bess whimpered.
Maeve gave a slight nod and sauntered off
to the bar.
Lacey eyed Bess. “You’re really looking
pale. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Fine. I’m just really tired. It was a
hard week.”
“I don’t know how you do it. I can hardly
clean my room let alone a string of other people’s houses. Are you looking for
any other kind of work? Maybe something in retail or—”
“No,” Bess interrupted. “I just don’t have
the energy to start looking for something new right now.”
“Are you going to finish college? Maeve
mentioned you were only short a semester or two.”
“Eventually.”
“You know, I have a laptop you can use. There
are a lot of courses that you can take online. Maybe you could—” She
stiffened suddenly, her senses stirring with awareness. Even with her back to
the door, she knew Mick had walked in.
His hand brushed gently across her
shoulders. “Hi, Lacey.”
“Mick, hi. This is my friend, Bess.”
Mick offered his hand to Bess and gestured
to his friend. “And this is Jack. He works with me at the Academy. Teaches
physics or some other useless science like that.”
Jack flashed his pearly whites.
Looking at them as they sat down, Lacey
couldn’t help comparing the two men. Their short hair, perfect posture, and
chiseled muscles made it obvious they were in the military, despite their lack
of uniforms that night. But Mick’s shoulders and chest were broader and his
face more rugged. Jack favored a slightly leaner, boyish look, with a body
Lacey imagined was sculpted in a health club rather than by hauling gear
through the mountainous terrain of Afghanistan.
Jack was handsome, but she preferred her
Mick.
Her
Mick? Did she really just think that? She nearly winced. Better not let
that slip, or Maeve would never let her live it down.
“What can we get you from the bar?” Mick
offered, starting to stand.
“Actually Maeve is—”
“Oh…my…God.” Maeve reappeared from the
bar, a look of complete shock on her face. Both Bess and Lacey’s heads whipped
around to see what she was looking at.
“Maeve.” Jack said her name in a hushed,
almost reverent tone. His face slowly transformed from shock to pure joy, as
though he were a kid who had just been handed his first ice cream sundae,
dripping with hot fudge. “Maeve.”
“Jack.”
No one dared to say a word. There was an
electric charge in the air, the kind Lacey had heard happened right before
lightning struck.
Jack rose from his chair, shaking his head
slowly. “My God, Maeve.” Standing only inches away, he wrapped his arms around
her, lifted her from the ground, and whirled her in a full circle causing heads
to turn.
Maeve put both of her hands alongside his
face and pulled him into a kiss. It was brief, but whole-hearted, the kind she
could either give the love of her life after being separated for years, or a
friend who had just handed her the winning lottery ticket.
“So I, uh, take it you know each other?” Mick
said with a grin.
They both inhaled as if trying to find the
right words.
“Maeve is…she and I…we…”
Maeve interrupted with her usual candor. “Jack
was the best sex I ever had.”
All eyebrows raised including Jack’s, as
well as about four or five other people who were within earshot.
“The best?” Jack repeated.
“Absolutely.”
Jack shot a cocky grin to Mick. “I was the
best.”
Lacey butted in. “And this was…when?”
“Six years ago, maybe?” Jack looked at
Maeve.
“Seven, I think.” Maeve was glowing. “I
was house-sitting for my grandma. It was the weekend after the Academy
graduation, right?”
“Yep. The last weekend I was here before I
went to Surface Warfare Officers School in Rhode Island. I met Maeve at a party
for a friend.”
“Who was that?”
“Brian something.”
“Oh yeah, a friend of a neighbor.”
“We walked out of the party together and
weren’t seen again…”
“…for the whole weekend,” Maeve finished
for him.
They delved into the sordid details,
perhaps a bit too much, each one finishing the other’s sentences as though they
had been together for years.
“But you didn’t see each other again?”
Bess asked when there was a break in the conversation.
“Oh, no. Of course not. He had just
graduated. I was maybe six or seven years older than him and looking to settle
down. We didn’t stand a chance,” Maeve said bluntly. “In fact, I met my husband
just a couple months after that.”
The look of disappointment on Jack’s face
was obvious. “You got married?”
“Unfortunately,” Maeve responded and then
quickly raised her ring-less finger. “And divorced…”
“…fortunately,” Lacey and Bess finished
for her in unison, both having heard their fill about Maeve’s ex.
Jack frowned. “You broke my heart, Maeve. I
gave you my number. You never called.”
“I told you I wouldn’t.”
“Oh, please,” Mick chimed in defending
Maeve. “You were a new officer and busy as hell. I remember my first job after
commissioning. You never gave her a second thought.”
“Well, maybe not a ton of thought. But I
always remembered her.”
“Ditto, sweetie,” Maeve brushed his cheek
in a maternal way, and Jack looked visibly slighted.
“So this all happened at your Grandma’s? The
same house we’re in now?” Lacey asked.
Maeve just smiled in response.
Lacey and Bess exchanged a glance.
“In whose room?”
Maeve burst out laughing. “In every room. Don’t
you get it?”
“So you live at your Grandma’s now?” Jack
asked.
“Well, it’s mine now. She passed away last
year.”
“Oh, Maeve. I’m so sorry.” Jack reached
for her hand.
Maeve pulled both of her hands back and
gave a careless wave, seeming to reject both the sympathy and affection. “It’s
all right. I’m fine with it now. I was living in Baltimore at the time, and
Lacey talked me into keeping the house.”
“Still have that kitchen table?” he asked
with a cocked eyebrow.
“Whoa, whoa. Stop right there,” Lacey
butted in. “Too much information. I have to eat at that table.”
***
By the time their food arrived, Maeve
noticed that even Bess looked like she was enjoying the evening, sipping her
ginger ale contentedly. She had even pulled off that disaster of a baseball
cap. Maeve made a mental note to hide that thing when they got home.
“Who ordered the crabs?” the waitress
asked.
“Me.” Maeve raised her hand. “Oh, and the
oysters. No one has oysters quite like here.”
“You know what they say about raw oysters.”
Jack sent Maeve a wink.
“Dream on. Consider me a once in a
lifetime opportunity,” Maeve retorted back. “Now your friend here…oh, I think
he’s already got his eyes on our Lacey.”
“Just friends, she’s telling me, Maeve,”
Mick grinned at her.
“Of course. Just friends. This is a very
friendly table we have here. Oyster anyone?” she asked as she struggled to pull
the slippery meat from the shell.
Bess recoiled at the sight.
“Squirmy little devil.” Maeve dipped the
oyster in cocktail sauce and hand-fed it to Jack, deciding not to offer one to
Bess who was turning three shades of green. Another chunk of meat snapped from
the shell like elastic and Maeve swirled it in cocktail sauce. Cocking her
head, she watched Bess shrinking in her chair. “You okay, Bess?”
As a glob of sauce slid off the oyster’s
slick body, Bess covered her mouth. “Excuse me!” she murmured, bolting from the
table in the direction of the restroom.
Lacey slapped her napkin on the table. “I
better check on her.”
Maeve watched Lacey race after Bess, and
weighed whether she should follow. She had never done well at the sight of
someone throwing up. Not even in college. And from the look on Bess’s face,
Maeve guessed she was praising the porcelain god right now. “I shouldn’t have
dragged her out.”
Jack gave a sage nod. “Yeah, I think the
oysters just tipped her over the edge. When is she due?”
“What?” Maeve asked blankly.
“When is your friend due?”
“Due for what?”
Mick sliced a finger against his throat to
signal Jack to shut up.
Jack looked confused. “To deliver, I
guess.”
“You think she is pregnant?”
“Um, yeah.”
Maeve bristled. Thank God Bess wasn’t here
to hear this. “She’s not pregnant. She’s not even fat. Jack, you shouldn’t
assume a woman is pregnant just because she’s a little thick in the middle.”
“I didn’t say she was fat or thick in the
middle. But she’s definitely pregnant.”
“How would you know and I not know?” Maeve
said, clearly offended.
Jack began, “I have…”
“Four sisters,” Mick completed. “Yeah,
you’ve mentioned that.”
Jack looked nonplussed. “Nausea, bulky
clothes, not drinking, and with that kind of reaction to the sight of raw
oysters? It’s a no-brainer. First trimester, I guarantee it.”