Mom's eyes widen as she puts her bagel down on the paper bag between us. "Oh, Maggie."
"It shouldn't have happened."
"You — You and Sloane. How on earth?" She stares at me. "Did she kiss you? Did you kiss her?"
"I don't know, I don't really remember. It just happened but we both wanted it."
She shakes her head. "I'm sorry to say this, but that woman is just bored."
"Thanks for the boost of confidence," I say with an eyeroll. "I know very well I'm no match for Sloane but there's no need to rub it in."
"No, honey. She's no match for you." Mom squeezes my thigh. "I'm just trying to give you a version of this that doesn't hurt you next month. The rich ones get bored and sometimes they kiss women. It's probably just a phase and I'm not okay with her experimenting with my daughter."
"There will be no more experimenting if that's what you want to call it. Like I said, it was a mistake."
"But she's clearly on your mind and I don't want you to get hung up on her," Mom says. "I'm being protective, sweetheart, that's all. I know that look in your eyes and you haven't touched your bagel. I'm your mother. I get to worry."
"You don't need to worry about me. I'm fine and I'm not hung up on her." I take a big bite of the bagel to prove a point. It tastes like nothing.
Mom sighs and wraps both hands around the thermos lid. "I do want love for you, sweetheart. I want you to find someone who sees you the way I do. Who sees how hard you work and how much you give and what a kind, decent, extraordinary woman you are." She pauses. "I just don't think Sloane Archer is going to be that person."
39
SLOANE
It's just past seven on Monday morning when Dad turns the Mercedes onto Maggie's drive. She walks up to the car in shorts and a T-shirt, narrowing her eyes at the strange car with tinted windows. She's not expecting me yet, and she's certainly not expecting him.
I haven't seen Maggie since I climbed into the helicopter, and the sight of her stops me for a second. My stomach does a slow turn and all I can think of is that kiss.
My father parks and gets out in his navy polo and chinos.
"Morning," I say, getting out on the passenger's side. Maggie's eyes find mine over the roof of the car. It's only a second, but my whole body remembers Friday and I have to look away before my father sees how thrown I am.
Maggie's eyes go from my father to me and back. "Good morning. I wasn't expecting —"
"Two of us, I know. This is my father, Richard. Dad — Maggie Dawson."
My father puts out his hand and Maggie wipes hers on her jeans before she shakes it. "Mr. Archer."
"Richard, please. It's a pleasure to meet you. Sloane has spoken about you a great deal on our drive here."
A great deal. Did I really talk about her that much? I run back through the drive — the four hours of it — and realize I did. Maggie said this, Maggie does that. I like saying her name out loud.
Maggie raises an eyebrow at me, briefly. "All flattering, I hope?"
"Very," he says, giving Maggie one of his rare smiles.
Why is he being so nice? He seemed interested in hearing about Maggie so I just carried on and on about her like she was the most interesting person in my life. I even told him about slipping into the mud pool — leaving out the part where Maggie landed on top of me and we kissed — and he laughed out loud. Somewhere around Bakersfield he'd suggested we stop and find a gift for the sanctuary, and when we found the biggest livestock puddling pool in the place he didn't even glance at the price.
I told him and Mom I was done with my friends and the press and the whole circus, and he didn't lecture me. He just looked pleased and happily agreed to drive me back to Duster.
"I'm glad." Maggie chuckles. "And you're early. Did you drive through the night?"
"No," Dad says. "We stayed at the motel last night as we wanted to run some errands on our way here and it was late by the time we got to Duster."
"The motel?" Maggie winces. "Oh, my. How was that?"
Dad shrugs, sliding his hands into his pockets. "It was an experience. I now understand why my daughter has been requesting a coffee machine for five weeks. And I thought there was a piece of construction equipment running outside my window but it turned out to be Sloane's fridge in the room next door. Sloane mentioned the noise but I assumed she was dramatizing."
