Part 3 (1/2)
There was something this town was hiding and she was going to get to the bottom of it. Maybe not this weekend, but definitely before the wedding.
Maggie locked the bathroom door behind her, placed both hands on either side of the sink and leaned in. It was her cue to dismiss herself as soon as she heard Bryan Adam's Everything I Do. It was playing the night she crawled into Mitch's bed, the night before she left for college and didn't look back.
Maggie looked in the mirror, studying herself disapprovingly. She rubbed the mascara from under her eyes.
”Why, Maggie?” she asked herself. ”Why do you have the need for Mitch to still be in love with you. You are getting married to Grady.”
She didn't have to remind herself of this, but it helped put Hazel's issues into perspective. Maggie could see Hazel's point and she could see Grady's point. But why wasn't Grady willing to throw the salt? If he loved her, he should've thrown the salt, and she wouldn't be in this bathroom right now crying.
With her chin up and her head held high, Maggie inhaled and stepped back into the bar.
How long was she in the bathroom? She knew it wasn't long, but the Turtle was extremely busy. Then again, it was Sat.u.r.day night and the only bar in town. Through the crowd she could see the top of Mitch's head and an arm draped around his shoulders. The arm seemed a little too familiar, like it fit there.
Maggie dragged her eyes up along the arm covered in sparkly bangles and gla.s.s beads. Her eyes narrowed. She'd seen those bracelets before. As a matter of fact, she bought Belle the exact same bracelets from a high-end boutique in Manhattan.
And that laugh. Belle.
”Hi, sis.” Belle bent around the bar, her hair flung into Mitch's gla.s.s. She giggled and pulled the rubber band off her wrist while gathering her hair into a low pony. ”Oh, sorry. It's Martini o'clock!”
”Hey, everyone!” Tommy yelled over the crowd and tried to quiet them with his hands. ”Our own Maggie Greenlee is here to celebrate her upcoming wedding and we need to make a toast to her.”
Maggie blushed. This was what she remembered about Grandberry Falls. The Thirsty Turtle never disappointed.
”To Maggie!” Belle tipped her gla.s.s up with the rest of the bar and threw back her martini. She pointed and screamed, ”Mitch.e.l.l Dozier!”
”What?” Maggie put her empty gla.s.s down and looked to see what Belle was fussing over.
”Mitch didn't drink before he put his mug down.” Belle laughed all the way to the jukebox.
”What?” Maggie frantically fisted Mitch's s.h.i.+rt. ”How could you?”
Maggie wasn't going to let Mitch off that easy. He knew exactly what that superst.i.tion meant. Maggie vividly remembered telling him at their high school graduation when Hazel made sure everyone took a drink before they sat down their gla.s.s after her toast.
She grabbed her purse. There was no way she was going to stay there a second longer or she couldn't be responsible for her actions. Before she reached the door, she heard Mitch yell after her, but she wasn't about to turn around.
”Maggie, come on.” Mitch was close on her heels. ”Hey, you forgave your fiance.”
Once Maggie made it to the parking lot, she stopped and flung her head around causing her hair to whip with it. ”What did you say?”
She stepped back when Mitch came nose to nose with her. He'd never been this bold and she didn't know where it was coming from.
”Really, Maggie?” The moonlight made his features darker sending chills up Maggie's arms. ”You can't tell me that big fancy city college you attended made you stupid.”
She didn't know this side of him and didn't like it.
”Can't you just let me be? Go back to New York and get married.” His eyes darkened as he held her gaze. ”I'm not a toy or a game for when you come home. We aren't in high school anymore.”
”You're right.” Maggie dug out her keys from her purse and continued. ”I won't bother you ever again. I promise.” She threw the words at him like stones.
She clicked the b.u.t.ton on her key fob to unlock the car door. She didn't turn to see if Mitch was still there, she just got into her car. He was right. She didn't belong here anymore. Right now all she cared about was being hit with two bad superst.i.tions in a twelve hour period.
”This can't be good.” Maggie referred to Tommy's toast. Everyone in Grandberry Falls knew that you always take a drink after the toast before you put it down. She knew Mitch sat his down without taking a drink on purpose.
She slumped over her steering wheel, her eyes focused on the lights flickering through the bar windows with Mitch nowhere to be seen, leaving her with an inexplicable feeling of emptiness.
Chapter 6.
Superst.i.tion: It's bad luck to tell your dreams before breakfast.
When the rooster crowed, Maggie jumped. She'd forgotten where she was-for just a moment. When she came home last night, Hazel had already gone to bed and Belle stayed at the Thirsty Turtle doing G.o.d-knows-what.
Maggie knocked the quilt off as the coffee aroma danced around the bedroom. Hazel wasn't all that quiet. Maggie was sure Hazel was in the kitchen cooking up a good breakfast for her.
She pulled on her sweats and listened for the clanking of the cast iron skillet, but there wasn't a sound. Maybe a little scuffle here and there, but definitely nothing that sounded like pots and pans.
As soon as she opened the door, Hazel yelled, ”I'm glad you're up. We are meeting a few folks down at the Fatted Pig for breakfast. You coming before you leave?”
Maggie scratched her head. Since when did Sunday morning breakfast consist of the Fatted Pig? Hazel has always made Maggie a big home-made breakfast before she headed back to New York.
Something wasn't right. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she wasn't in the mood to fight today.
Maggie didn't even look to see if Belle was home. She needed a hot shower and there wasn't a better shower then the one at Hazel's.
The pink tile bathroom was a dream when Maggie was a little girl. Her father told her every princess needed a pink bathroom. When Maggie was older, she found out the tile was on sale and no matter how much money Hazel had, she was still cheap.
Maggie turned the built-in heater to medium. The room would be nice and toasty when she stepped out of the shower. Hoping to steam off last night's disaster, Maggie took her time. She had a couple of hours before she needed to leave. Her plan was to pack her car and leave straight from the Fatted Pig.
The swoosh of cold air rushed underneath the thin shower liner.
”Maggie, we will see you there.”
Maggie let the water rush down her face with her eyes closed. Hazel was acting really weird. Before, Hazel would have never left without her. Maggie didn't have it in her to fight. She was ready to get this breakfast over, and get out of town. She didn't take the time to enjoy the rest of her shower. With straight hair, it was easy to pull up, and with a t-s.h.i.+rt, jeans and flip-flops, she was out the door in no time.
Maggie maneuvered her Volvo C70 through the back streets. She wanted to stop by the cemetery on her way to breakfast. That was one thing she made sure she did while in town. Maggie was certain her life would be different if her parents were still alive.
Whenever she told someone her mother died while giving Maggie life, she got the same reaction time after time. *Apensate for it, Maggie still felt the loss.
Rock-Fence Cemetery was as old as Grandberry Falls. Some of the old tombs that had tumbled to the ground were a sad sight for Maggie. She imagined what it would look like years from now when she would (rarely) be back in Grandberry Falls. Hazel did what she could to tend to Maggie's parent's graves, but Belle was too busy running the Hair Pin. She couldn't bear to have her parent's tombs all crumbled in the gra.s.s.
The two artificial orange Gerber Daisies sat in the seat next to her. Real flowers never have kept fresh on the drive down from NYC. Besides, they would die in a couple days and the thought of having something die on top of what already was dead wasn't an image Maggie wanted to live with.
At least these would stay pretty for awhile. No one was here this early as she made her way down the cemetery drive. There were some names she recognized and some she didn't. She looked at the graves next to her father. Dozier.
Mitch's parent's, too, had pa.s.sed and Maggie was there for him as he had been for her. Many nights her father enjoyed spending time with Mitch's father in his garage working on cars or anything with a motor.