The Knight and Maggie's Baby Page 8

  “I can see that. More proof that you need to take it easy.” He expelled a slow breath that echoed frustration. “I just want you to know that your working is no longer a necessity.”

  “That's where you're wrong. It is. To me, it definitely is a necessity.”

  Maggie leaped from the kitchen stool and walked around the counter in an attempt to assuage the rising steam inside her, reaching explosion level. Grabbing the carafe of orange juice, she poured herself a glass, and dropped it on the table next to the carafe. Busy work, her grandmother always called it. She'd clean the whole damned mansion if it kept her from snapping the way she wanted to at Jonah.

  Dragging in a deep breath, she chose her words carefully. “My grandmother left me the coffee shop. It was all she had, and she wanted me to have it. She'd worked at that coffee shop my whole life. All my memories of childhood were spent after school helping her and hanging out with my friends there. It's as much a part of me as she is...was.”

  Her voice cracked and she clamped down on her bottom lip with her teeth to keep it from trembling.

  “So you see, I do have to work. The Coffee Drop may not be a castle in England worth millions, but its value is far greater than anything I could think to put a dollar value on.”

  The tightness that had masked Jonah's expression when she started her tirade had subsided to regret.

  “You're right, of course. It was wrong of me to make such an assumption.”

  Oh, how Maggie wished she could let her guard down. But she couldn't. And because she couldn't do that, she had to make Jonah understand.

  “You don't know what it is like to struggle in life. I do. That's not your fault and I'm not blaming you in any way if you can't understand. My mother and grandmother worked hard to make a life for me. I'm not going to shirk my responsibility to my child just because you have money. That's not why I married you. And I don't want you to ever think that because I don't.”

  She picked up the glass of orange juice she'd just poured and drained it. Carefully, she placed the empty glass on the table and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

  “I'll see you tonight,” she said, already racing through the kitchen door. And not a moment too soon.

  Maggie held onto her composure long enough to get her point across, but now it was beginning to unravel.

  What had gotten into her? She'd never reacted so wildly before, not even when it was clear Keith wanted nothing to do with the baby. She'd practically chopped Jonah's head off.

  It had to be her hormones again. That was the only explanation Maggie could think of for her coarse reaction. Although she knew deep down Jonah was only trying to help, she also knew that if she let her guard down with him, she'd lose...what? What could she possibly lose?

  She didn't want to think about it. Instead, she raced through the front door of the mansion to the waiting limousine that would take her from Jonah's fairy tale house to her real life at the coffee shop.

  * * *

  Jonah groaned inwardly, watching the swinging kitchen door that Maggie had just stalked through slap back and forth, creating a breeze. Terrific. First day married and he was already in the doghouse.

  He should have known better than to assume the Coffee Shop wouldn't mean as much to Maggie as Wiltshire did to him. They'd grown up in entirely different worlds, but the ties to their worlds were strong. He'd have to make a point of remembering that. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Maggie or her pride.

  Again.

  # # #

  Chapter Seven

  The flood of college students lining up to apply for jobs wasn't as bad as it had been in recent years, Maggie thought, glancing through the applications. She could only choose two for part-time employment. It was all she could afford. And since she had to make the most of the money she paid out in wages, she chose carefully.

  Gregg was a tall kid in his first year in college. He looked as though he were smart and dependable, able to lift a lot of the heavy boxes she'd be unable to carry as the months went on. She'd give him a call first, see if he was interested in stopping by for an interview.

  She'd need another waitress, but she might be able to hold off for at least another few months. The restaurant wasn't all that big and she could certainly take multiple trips to serve her customers if need be. Yes, she'd hold off on the wait staff and concentrate on the bigger jobs. She'd make sure she had a waitress trained and ready to take her place long before she needed a replacement.

  With that settled, Maggie lifted off the stool and breezed across the floor to the back room. It had been quiet this afternoon. It usually was this time of the day since the Coffee Drop's main business was serving breakfast and lunch. Maggie enjoyed the freedom of being able to close the shop at a decent hour. It would make it easy for her once the baby arrived.

  She sank into her office chair and pulled out the box that housed her spare pair of shoes she kept under the desk. With the toe of her right shoe, she bore down on the heel of her left shoe until it slipped off. She picked up the matching shoe and immediately forced her tired foot into it and almost sighed at the cool relief it gave her. A quick change for the other foot and Maggie felt as if she had a new pair of feet.

  Before she had the chance to pick up the phone and call Gregg the bell above her desk rang, indicating the doors to the restaurant had opened. So much for a quiet afternoon, she thought with a grimace as she made her way back to the dining room.

  If it were another college student looking for a job, she would have to tell them she'd already made up her mind on another candidate. There was no sense wasting their time filling out an application if she wasn't planning to give it serious consideration.

  But when Maggie pushed through the kitchen door to the dining room, what she found wasn't at all what she'd expected. Oh, the boy who sat at the counter was a student, but certainly not from college. It was hard to guess a boys age based on height alone, but based on his size and the way he sat slouched in the stool, Maggie guessed he was about ten or eleven years old. The pockets of his thin Windbreaker were pulled out, and his bangs hung in his eyes so far Maggie couldn't imagine how he could see the change he was counting in his hand.

  “Can I help you?” she said.

  The boy darted his head up, clearly startled by her appearance. His brown, cow eyes were wide and she sensed a little fear in his expression. She was too much of a sucker for this job.

  “I was just wondering how much it cost for one of those brownies,” he said. His voice was a little forced gruff, as if he were trying to assert some bravado he didn't feel. Ah, to be that young again.

  “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Whether you want it plain or a la mode. Personally, I'd go for a la mode. But it all depends on the mood.”

  Maggie couldn't help but smile at the little grimace on his face.

  “That's supposed to mean with ice cream, right? I like ice cream, as long as it is not strawberry or coffee. Can't stand those and I won't eat it. I like chocolate though.”

  “Me, too. With chocolate sauce. You're pretty smart for a kid.”

  “I'm not a kid, I'm twelve. That's almost a teenager.”

  “I stand corrected,” she said, putting her hands up. “So what'll it be? Plain or with a scoop of chocolate?”

  He glanced at the coins in his hand, then at the brownies. “If I buy the macaroni and cheese dinner do I have to eat it here?”

  Puzzled, Maggie glanced back at the black chalk board she usually posted the daily specials on. She hadn't gotten around to erasing it and washing it down. It was usually the last thing she did before she went home for the day.

  When she'd come into the diner from the kitchen, she'd assumed the boy was drooling over the brownies in the tray. They were still fresh baked from just this morning. She herself had been eyeing them all afternoon. But now she realized he'd been counting quite a bit more than what was needed for just an afternoon snack,
even with a generous scoop of ice cream. The coins were stacked in a row as if he were counting them in whole dollars. It looked as if he'd broken into his piggy bank to come in and buy a brownie.

  “We don't serve dinner at the Coffee Drop. Just breakfast and lunch.”

  “But people can have macaroni and cheese for dinner. My mom makes it sometimes for us.”

  Maggie smiled. “Absolutely. Sometimes when I don't get a chance to eat lunch, I wrap up some leftovers from the day and take them home. I sometimes eat macaroni and cheese for breakfast.”

  “You don't mind eating it cold?”

  Maggie leaned on the counter and propped her chin on her fist. “I have a microwave at home.”

  The boy nodded. “So do we.”

  “What's your name?”

  He seemed uneasy at first with her question, so she stepped away from the counter and busied herself by taking out two brownies from the case and setting them on clean plates. He watched her every move.

  “Brian.”

  “My name is Maggie,” she told him.

  “I know. I saw it on your nametag.” He pointed to the worn nametag on her shirt.

  “Well, Brian, you can have one of these brownies now while I wrap up some macaroni and cheese for you to take home.”

  Fear seemed to have him hopping right out of the stool. “I don't have enough money for both. I already counted.”

  Maggie glanced down at the coins on the counter. “I think there might be enough there to cover both. Are you on your way home from school?”

  “Yeah, my bus usually lets me off down the road and then I walk the rest of the way. I have to come back and meet my sisters when they get off the bus later though. They're still in elementary school.”

  Brian said it as if it made a world of difference, when in fact, Brian was still so young himself.

  “Your mom and dad are at work?”

  “Mom is,” he said, taking the brownie she slid in front of him easily.

  Maggie motioned to the ice cream freezer and Brian shook his head. “It's on the house,” she offered. To his confused expression, she added, “That means it’s free.”

  He seemed to think about it before shaking his head again. Instead, he ate the brownie in what looked like one gulp.

  “Wow,” Maggie said. “Don't they feed you at school these days? They used to when I was a kid.”

  Brian sighed, his face turning crimson as he looked down at his empty plate. “I didn't feel like eating lunch.”

  Maggie groaned inwardly as the picture in front of her became clearer. More than hardy appetite? Taking care of his kid sisters? And Brian hadn't mentioned his father when she'd had asked about his parents. Only his mother.

  “Mom and Dad work late?”

  “Just Mom on Tuesday and Thursdays. She used to be home before we all got home from school, then her boss changed her hours and said she had to work later or be fired.”

  Maggie sighed. If she became personally involved with every kid who walked through her front door, she’d have to close up shop for going broke. But she'd already gone half the distance with Brian. There was no sense holding back now.

  “Who cooks you dinner when your mom works late?”

  He lifted one shoulder idly.

  “Do you and your sisters even eat dinner?”

  “A lot of times we have cereal, but Kelly makes too much of a mess and sometimes she spills the milk all over the place. I don't mind cleaning it up so much but...”

  He seemed to decide he'd said too much and abruptly got up from the stool and pushed the change on the counter into his hand.

  “How much for the brownie?”

  Maggie sighed. “On the house, like I said.”

  He looked at her blankly.

  “What? I can’t share a brownie?” she said softly.

  He seemed embarrassed and Maggie couldn't help but think about Jonah the day he'd come in asking to use the phone. Maybe it was a male thing, not wanting to take handouts from someone, wanting to do for yourself. She decided no, it wasn't of gender but of character that made a person want to stand on their own two feet and this little boy definitely had it.

  “I tell you what. If you really want to pay for your brownie, maybe I could give you a job to do instead. Does that sound fair?”

  “What kind of job? I have to be at the bus stop to meet my sisters in a little while. I can't be late.”

  Maggie couldn't help but feel a little pride for Brian’s sense of responsibility and duty towards his sisters. And a little sadness that he needed it at all at such a young age.

  “Don't worry. You'll be on time. I'll make sure of it. I sometimes get tired in the afternoons when it's time for sweeping. Maybe you could do a little sweeping up for me here. And while you're doing that I can put together a couple of plates for you to take home for dinner for you and your sisters.”

  His big eyes brightened. “Really?” Then he seemed to deflate a little. “I don't think my mom will like it though. She's been really cranky about things since the divorce.”

  “You'd be doing me a really huge favor and these dinners are just going to go to waste anyway. How about I give her a call and make sure it okay with her?”

  “I'm not supposed to give out my telephone number.” Smart kid. His mother would be proud.

  “Have your mother call me then or she could drop by some morning on her way to work.”

  “Okay,” he said, hoisting his backpack up on his shoulder. “I can't do any work now though. I got to go meet the bus. Thanks for the brownie.”

  “Don't you want to take some macaroni and cheese?”

  “I can't. I don't want to be late for the bus or my mother will kill me. I can't leave my sisters there alone.”

  Maggie's heart squeezed. She had a feeling cereal was on the menu for tonight.

  “Why don’t you stop by here after you get them off the bus? I’ll still be here and I’ll have some dinner wrapped up and waiting for you.”

  “But I didn’t sweep anything yet.”

  “You will on Thursday.”

  He thought about it for a second and then eyed the clock on the far wall. “I’ll be back in a little while. I promise.”

  Brian breezed through the door while Maggie cleared the plates. Whether Brian knew it or not, he’d brightened up her day as much as she’d done his. She was going to look forward to having his help and his company in the afternoon.

  * * *

  Jonah managed to drag himself through the slew of last minute meetings on the plan changes for the youth center and Haven House for Young Wanderers. If he hadn't had to take the time to bring his new secretary current with all the details for the upcoming charity dinner, he would have been home hours ago.

  In between all the details and the changes of plans, Jonah's attention wandered to the argument he'd had with Maggie over breakfast. They needed to clear the air, but given the time he was sure she'd already retired to her room when he got home.

  When he finally towed himself through the front entryway into the foyer, a dozen red roses in one hand, his bulging briefcase in the other, he was astounded to see her standing there.

  “I heard your car come up the driveway,” she said softly.

  “I didn't think you'd still be awake.”

  She gave a sleepy smile. “I don't always sleep twelve hours a night. I'm hoping it'll pass soon.”

  Her gaze roamed to the bouquet of roses he gripped tightly in his hand, and then back to his face.

  “These are for you,” he said, answering her unspoken question.

  Her deep sapphire eyes twinkled brilliantly, and her cheeks filled with color. “They're beautiful.”

  He couldn't help but think the same of her.

  Despite the golden sparkle in her eyes, signs of fatigue pulled at Maggie's delicate features. She always seemed to be tired lately, and yet at that same time there was a radiance about her that Jonah found intoxicating.

  Her dark brown hair was rumpled
, pulled down from the slightly lopsided ponytail, now loosely held in the back of her head. She'd probably been lying down while she waited for him to come home. The over-sized college T-shirt she wore fell loosely to her mid-thigh and showed a hint of navy cotton shorts beneath. Tousled or not, it didn't take away from the innate beauty that was all Maggie.

  She took the bouquet with both hands, bringing the roses to her nose to take a whiff. Or maybe it was to hide from the awkwardness that suddenly stood between them like a stark white sheet strung to divide a room. It was customary for a woman to kiss her husband when he brought home roses. He knew that kind of gesture was completely inappropriate in their situation and would only fuel the uneasiness already plaguing them.

  To her credit, Maggie tried to make light of it. “So is this the way it's going to go, huh? You stroll home late, and buy me off with flowers to keep me from grumbling?”

  He shrugged, smiling wickedly. “Did it work?”

  She shook her head, chuckling, and he knew in an instant that this morning's disagreement was long forgiven.

  “I could get used to roses.”

  “Then I'll bring them home often. Next time, I'll do it without the pretense of begging your forgiveness.”

  She hesitated, then shrugged slightly. “Look, I'm sorry about the way I jumped at you this morning. It's not like me to fly off the handle like that. At least, I never used to do that before.”

  “You're sorry? I was just thinking I should be the one to apologize to you.”

  “You just did,” she said, smiling wryly.

  “I had no right to make assumptions about your life.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Of course anything you do now will affect your baby's future and your first priority is that. I just wasn't thinking.”

  “I still shouldn't have gotten so defensive. I know you were only trying to look out for me. The truth is I'm not use to people taking care of me. I'm the one who's always taking care of someone, whether it be my mother, my grandmother before she died, or the latchkey kids who stroll into the coffee shop after school.”

  His face drew up into a frown. Maggie bit her lip to stifle a grin.