Maggie's Guardian

“Mom, he’s here.” And who would be a kempt, fit criminal? “He came to help me because the police think I know something about David’s death.”

“What?” At her mother’s shocked bleat, Tessa scrambled to backtrack. A suspected murderess might find herself designated persona non grata in the Lawlor family.

“I don’t know anything, of course, but I was his partner, and because of Maggie, I’ll have indirect access to his assets.”

“Why ever would you not? You agreed to take care of little Megan. Why is Noah there again?”

“Maggie, Mom. David’s daughter is Maggie. And Noah came because he didn’t like the way the police treated me. I don’t want you calling here and saying something ugly to him.”

“As you said, I like the man. He’s gorgeous, after all. I just think he might have done better by you.”

“What happened between Noah and me, we did to each other.” Tessa changed the subject. “How’s Dad?”

“At a seminar at some hospital. That reminds me, dear, I have to get his tux cleaned. We have tickets for Madame Butterfly on Friday. Do you think this David thing will get you and Noah back together?”

“Mother, my friend was killed.”

“What happened anyway? Someone shot him? A robbery, honey?”

Her mother, a blasé citizen of Boston, obviously imagined a nice, clean death, a bullet that served its purpose with little or no trace. “No, Mom. He was stabbed.”

“Do you need us to come back to the States for the funeral?”

“No.” Noah was enough to face for now. “But thank you.”

“We want to be there for you.”

“Thanks, but too many people might confuse Maggie. Every time someone opens the door, she asks for David.”

“She’s another good reason for you and Noah to try again. You’re too fragile to take care of her by yourself.”

Fragile? She was anything but. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Call me after the funeral. Your father will want to know you’re fine, too.”

“All right, Mom.”

“I love you.”

“Me, too, you.”

She clicked the phone’s off button and dropped her arm. As she turned, Noah seemed to rise out of the floor. She hadn’t heard him come in, but he crossed the room in three steps.

“Was that Weldon?”

“My mom.”

“Oh. Amanda.” He lifted one shoulder, and for a moment they read each other’s thoughts. He turned away.

“She means well.” She’d always tried to pretend her family was “normal.”

“You know exactly what she means. You know who they are, Tessa, and what they are. Why do you waste time protecting them?”

“They’re not your problem any longer.”

“Did you talk to your dad? Are they coming here?” He managed to make it sound like the last straw.

“They’re in England. He’s at a seminar.”

“Good. Their comfort is the last thing you need.” At her affronted glare, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “My mother always asks me if you’re ever going to speak to her again.”

She’d avoided Lucy Gabriel since the divorce. Not that she was mad at Lucy. She just hadn’t wanted to poach on Noah’s property. Lucy, whose independence was her greatest possession, next to her son, would be annoyed that Tessa could consider anyone property, but that happened during a divorce.

“She blames me,” Noah said. “She thinks I told you to stay away from her.”

Tessa planted the baby monitor on one hip and the phone on the other, forgetting she had them in her hands. “I never said so. I just didn’t want to come between you. She was your mother first.”

“But you still belong to her, too. She doesn’t like to lose anyone she loves.”

His unaccustomed frankness made her feel contrite. And that bugged her. “Why don’t you handle her? Tell her not to worry about me.”

“Handle my mom?” His eyes crinkled, making the irises seem darker than she remembered.

“I don’t know how to be friends with her now.” She wasn’t about to admit Lucy reminded her too much of Noah.

His gaze intensified. Palpable unease and one of Maggie’s breaths filled the silence. He tossed his coat at the couch. “Don’t tell me to ‘handle’ her. You care more for her than that.”

“I do.” Hot shame raced across her skin. “But she tries to talk about you. I know I hurt you both, but I had to go. I couldn’t stay in that house when we were both so alone.”

He spoke through tight lips. “Why did we have to be alone? We lived together.”

“We didn’t.” Her solitary grief swept her with familiar emptiness. “You wanted nothing from me, but I needed someone to make me want to live again.”

He tilted his head, eyeing her with an incredulous question. “How can I make you want to live?”

“I don’t know.” She cleared her throat. “And I don’t need that now, but I couldn’t get through to you. We left each other, and then I finally moved out.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

“I told you over and over, but you refused to hear.”

He nodded suddenly, and the light picked out silver strands in his black hair. “I didn’t want you to go. I think—I thought—you should have given me another chance.”

As if she owed him? They looked back at the end of their marriage just the way they’d lived it—miles apart in perception.

She glanced toward her future, asleep behind her bedroom door. “Maggie’s the last chance I have in me. You and I stopped owing each other anything the day our divorce became final. I just have to do right by her now.” She twisted the kinks out of her shoulders. “About your mom, what do you say to her?”

“That you’ll call when you’re able to talk to her again.”