Page 63 of Sighs By the Sea

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Page 63 of Sighs By the Sea

“Want me to come along?” I don’t like the idea of her going to such a hazardous area.

“No.” She doesn’t elaborate, and I see her body tense.

“Then I should head back to San Diego. Will you…?”

Looking at the ground, she sighs. “I’ll call when I can.” Again, she doesn’t explain, and I know she’s thinking about my case.

She steps up to me and kisses my cheek. “Bye, Grayson.”

I nod, though my chest tightens at her reserved tone.

“Bye, Maggie,” I say. She smiles and cups my cheek, but her eyes fill with emotion. For some reason, it feels like she’s saying goodbye for more than just the day. Things were odd after I confessed my feelings last night. When she was hiding in the bathroom, I knew she had been crying. What I don’t know is why. I’d love to believe she was so overwhelmed with happiness that she couldn’t contain it. But I’m not a naive man. Her touches were too desperate, her words too clipped.

Whatever she has to do today, I know I’ll hate it as much as she does.

***

After Maggie leaves, I take a few hours to wash her bedding and vacuum the house. It’s nice to keep my mind occupied with meaningless cleaning. More than that, I’m not sure when the last time she did any of this was.

My Maggie isn’t a stickler for cleanliness. As I wind the cord to the vacuum back up, I smile at the thought. She is perfectly imperfect. All the little ways she struggles with being a functioning adult, from the lack of cleaning to the Batman pajamas, and even her love for that silly yet somehow extremely violent game she was playing briefly last night.

It was fun seeing her yell into a microphone for a while last night, even if she did let my perfect cooking go cold. She has a filthy mouth. I hope none of those "squad" members are children. Their ears would probably have bled from the nasty things she was spewing.

After the vacuum is back in the closet, I gather my few items and head out to my car. I find myself looking back over the living room, wishing I didn’t have to go. Being in my own place has felt entirely too lonely. Maggie has a way of bringing a room to life. Her personality fills every corner. Her bright laugh and sweet smile disarm me. The only thing that would make our time together more perfect is if George were here. I could watch them play and talk together for hours without moving a muscle.

Last night, I didn’t know my heart could feel so full. While they were chatting away about who knows what—Batman versus Superman, and which of them would beat Joker faster—I was doing my best not to blurt out questions I have no business asking.

Like when can you move in, how many more kids do you want, and please don’t ever leave me. I guess the last one isn’t a question, but I still shouldn’t be thinking things like that.

I climb into my car and start it up, hoping that on the drive home, I will get some clarity. For what? I don’t know. Figuring out where I go from here should be the first thing.

But as I get onto the freeway, all my thoughts are consumed with Maggie. Wondering what gift I should buy for her, how soon I can ask to meet her sister, and when I should bring her around the rest of my family.

So when the exit for Henrietta’s place comes up, I take it. Talking to Tilly or Miranda is out. They would only manage to make fun of me. But Henrietta isn’t going to be amused by my confusion or feelings. She will be thrilled. And that’s what I want right now. I want someone to be as excited about the connection I have with Maggie as I am.

When I stop in front of her place, I find multiple cars parked along the street. Guess I won’t be getting my wish after all. I already recognize Sam’s VW and Miranda’s Jaguar.

Still, I walk up to the door and find myself knocking. The door is whipped open, and Henrietta stands there, one of the twins on her hip. “Gray! We were about to call you.” She steps aside, and I walk through the doors. TJ runs past me with a Nerf gun in his arms. “Freeze!” he screams, and I see Greg stop in his tracks, a glass raised halfway to his lips.

Even though Greg did what he was told, TJ shoots him in the forehead. “Ow, you little shit!” Greg yells, and TJ laughs before sprinting away.

Instead of following after his young son, Greg comes up to me, still rubbing the red spot on his forehead. “Well, we can probably cross FBI agent off his list of potential jobs.” He sighs and takes a sip of what I think is iced tea. “How’s it going, Gray?”

I hum out a wordless response. “That good, huh?” He hands me his tea. “Drink up, dude. The girls are in a mood today.”

Taking the offered drink, I follow him out to the back patio. I can hear the squawking of women arguing before the door is even open. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,” Miranda scoffs.

Tilly rises from her seat and glares at her sister. “You have to go, Andy.”

“I really don’t.”

“I’m technically your boss!”

“And technically, I’m older so…”

“Til, if she doesn’t want to, the kids will know that,” Sam says. But Tilly is shaking her head as I take a seat.

“We need volunteers. At the very least, I expect all my employees to be there. I don’t care if it cuts into their random hookup time.”




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