“Why are you packin’?”
Maggie spun around to see her mom standing in the doorway, her hair messy even in the middle of the afternoon. Her eyes were red, as if she’d been crying. Maggie wasn’t sure how long she could handle watching her mom fall apart. It was so different. She didn’t know how to react to it.
“I-I’m moving out,” she answered as she shoved a stack of T-shirts into her bag.
“Movin’ out? When did . . . when did you . . . I don’t understand.” She looked down at Maggie’s luggage and then up at her face.
Maggie took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Mom, but I’m twenty now, just like you’re always reminding me. I need to move on. Think of this as a trial run.”
Sandy’s shoulders slumped. “In the middle of some random afternoon? Without even tellin’ us?”
“I was going to tell you right after I packed my bags.”
There was a long pause, and Maggie stopped shoving things into her bag so she could turn to face her mom. The woman was a complete wreck. She hadn’t even removed her makeup from the night before. There were tear trails down her cheeks.
“Does this have to do with the divorce?” she asked as Maggie looked her up and down.
Maggie’s bottom lip trembled. “It’s part of it. I probably wouldn’t be leaving so soon if it weren’t for the divorce. Maybe with me gone, you and Dad can figure stuff out.”
Her mom snorted and folded her arms. “That’s unlikely. So, where are you goin’?”
“Cole’s place. I’m going to pay him rent for a while until I find something else more permanent.”
Her mom’s eyes widened. “Oh . . . I thought you two weren’t . . .” She unfolded her arms and made a gesture to indicate the idea of being together.
“We’re not, but we’re still friends, and he has that whole house to himself. He said it’s fine.” She paused to let that sink in before continuing. “You don’t have to worry about me, Mom. I’ve got my phone if you need me. I have money to last me awhile . . . until I figure out what I want to do.”
Sandy nodded. “Cole is a good man. You’ll be . . . you’ll be fine.” She sniffed and walked out of the room like a hurt puppy. Maggie rushed out the door and grabbed her shoulder, turning her around and hugging her as tightly as she could.
“I love you, Mom.”
Her mom coughed through her sobs, and it cut straight to Maggie’s heart. She wanted to say out loud how stubborn she was being, that forgiving her husband for something he clearly felt bad about would be the best thing to do. Divorce felt like revenge. It felt like running away. But she couldn’t bring herself to say any of it because, in a way, she felt like she was running away too.
“I love you too, Maggie. Call me if you need anything, okay? And we’ll see you soon, right?”
“Of course.” Maggie let her go and rushed back into her room before she started crying too. She had to go through with this or she’d never leave. Once she finished packing, she texted Cole that she was ready. When he texted back that he was already on his way, she hauled her bags out to the porch to wait for him. She wasn’t surprised when her dad emerged from the music room and followed her outside.
“Moving out already, huh?” he asked, his voice deflated. “Your mother just told me.”
“I have to,” she answered, trying to push down all the emotions swelling in her chest. Just as she had wanted to do with her mom, she wanted to spin around and say things she knew would never make it out of her mouth. She wanted to tell him how all of this was his fault, how she felt like she had to leave two people she loved most in the world because he’d had a moment of weakness. But she was leaving for more reasons than that, and she couldn’t blame him for any of her fear.
“I think you’re right,” he said after a minute of silence. “I think your mom and I need some time alone here at the house. We haven’t had that, well, since before you were born.”
“Don’t make me sound like such a burden,” she jabbed with a sarcastic sneer.
“Yeah, my little baby girl’s the biggest burden in my whole life,” he threw back at her. His voice was filled with a teasing edge, just like hers, so she knew he meant the exact opposite of what he’d said.
Her bottom lip quivered as she turned around to face him. He had on his stupid old jeans, and she loved him for it.
“Do I at least get a hug goodbye?” he asked.
“Of course.” She rushed into his arms, her love for him so strong it was almost enough to tell him she would change her mind and stay. Almost.
* * *
She was afraid it would be awkward between her and Cole, but it felt normal to climb into his truck and take off. On their way down the drive, she looked back to see her parents on the porch. They were talking and looked a little worried. She felt like there was a string between her and them, and it was stretching so tight it was about to snap. Then it did, and she had to look away and bite her lip to keep her tears inside.
“Your poor parents,” Cole laughed. “Must’ve been a shock to them, huh?”
She sank lower into the bench, the black vinyl creaking against her weight. She was hot all of a sudden as warm air blew onto her face from the vent.
“Yeah, it was a bit of a shock. I told them right before you got here.”
“Wow, ouch.”
“Yeah, but if I’d told them earlier, they might have talked me into staying. I know Mom too well. If I gave her enough warning, she would find me an apartment and do everything for me and it would take forever. I want to figure all of this out for myself, you know? I want it to be mine. And it’s not completely permanent yet. I have a lot to figure out.”
“I understand.” He pulled onto the main road, flicked on the radio, and started tapping his thumb to the beat. For a second, Maggie believed he was carefree and happy, but then she noticed a little crease between his eyes and she knew something was worrying him. It was what he wasn’t telling her. Taking a deep breath of engine grease and pine, she relaxed and kept her questions to herself.
When they got to the house, Cole pulled into the garage. Maggie got out and started yanking one of her bags out of the truck bed.
“I’ll get your guitar and your other bag,” Cole said. “Go on inside. The back bedroom is ready for you.”
“Okay,” she stuttered, all of a sudden nervous. The carrying strap on her bag was cold from the November air, making her shiver as she swung it over her shoulder and walked into the house. The garage entryway led into the kitchen. She was surprised to see the sink empty and the counters wiped clean, practically sparkling. The whole room had been filthy a few months ago when she and Lynnette had stopped by to pick up some music. That had stunned Maggie because Cole had always seemed like a clean, organized kind of guy.
She headed through the dining room and living room. Those rooms were all clean too. When she reached her bedroom down the hallway, she dropped her bag and took off her coat. Then she looked around and tried not to burst out laughing.
The room was so . . . girly.
“Cole!” she yelled, sure he was in the house by now. “What have you done?”
“What are you talking about?” He was coming down the hall behind her.
She looked at the lacy curtains, frilly bedspread, and bright pink shag rug spread over the carpet. A laugh built up in her throat as she imagined Cole standing in a checkout line with a pink shag rug.
“What?” he asked, dropping her other bag onto the floor. Her guitar case was slung across his back. “Don’t you like it?”
“You didn’t have to go buy stuff.”
He laughed. “Believe it or not, I don’t get a lot of women staying here. Okay, so nobody ever stays here. I’ve been gone on tours so much of the time, it hasn’t mattered. This room was empty except for the dresser and the bed. I had to get something for you to sleep on besides a bare mattress. And unless you want the neighbors across the street to see you getting dressed, I had to get some curtains.”
“I could have brought my own stuff. All you had to do was tell me.”
She was ridiculously embarrassed by how much he had thought this through—how much he had thought about her.
“Nah,” he responded seriously, “now it’s ready for the next woman who moves in after you. There are so many waiting in line, you know.” He winked at her.
She shoved his shoulder and pulled on her guitar to get it off his back. “Okay, fine, but don’t buy anything else, please. You don’t have a job now. I feel bad.”
“Don’t worry. You’re actually helping me out. Your rent will help me stay on top of things until the band gets some steady gigs. Oh, that reminds me, how do you want to deal with the food situation? I was thinking we could split the grocery bill, or if that doesn’t feel fair to you, we can keep everything totally separate. I’ve got some empty shelves in the pantry you can use.”
She scrunched her nose, realizing how much she didn’t want to be a burden. “I hadn’t thought of that.” She tapped her chin. “I don’t have a problem with splitting the grocery bill. We like the same things, right? There’s a few things I can cook, and I can follow any recipe.” She met Cole’s eyes. “You’ll want me to help cook meals, right?”
He smiled. “Sure.”
“Maybe we can plan a few meals a week, then?” she asked. “Mom and Dad do that when we’re home and we’re sick of eating out.” She thought about how she sometimes visited the local grocery store with her mom or dad, and how it always created a minor stir even though the regulars there were used to seeing Todd and Sandy around town. “But,” she added before Cole could respond, “I don’t have any way of getting to the grocery store unless I take the bus or something, so I guess I’ll have to ride with you, as usual. Is that okay?”
He kept smiling, apparently pleased by the thought of grocery shopping with her. “Not a problem, Maggie. We’ll just have to go in the evenings when I’m home. I’ll be gone during the day most of the time.”
There was that secret buried beneath the words he tried to make sound so nonchalant. She set her guitar by the dresser and took off her shoes so she could wiggle her toes in the new rug. It was soft and fuzzy. She looked up at Cole. There was so much going on with him, and it was driving her nuts. She could see he was happy, but sad at the same time. She could also see he was excited to have her stay here, but it was making him nervous too. Neither of them should be nervous. They’d been on tour together countless times, slept in neighboring hotel rooms, and seen each other at their worst and best. Sheesh.
Rubbing his arms, Cole gave her a lopsided smile. “I’ll turn up the heat. It’s getting colder, and this room is the draftiest one in the house.”
She nodded. “So, we’re good about the food? I can help clean and do dishes too.”
His smile evened out. “Sure, that sounds great.” He leaned against the doorframe. “I’ll get you set up on my Internet access so you can look into the driver’s license stuff.”
She dug her toes into the shag rug and looked him in the eyes. “Thanks, Cole, for everything. You don’t know what this means to me.”
His smile fell. “My parents got divorced when I was a teenager. It was a nightmare. I wish I could have gone and lived somewhere else.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Do you think they’ll really divorce? Is it that bad?”
“I don’t know.” Goosebumps popped up on her arms. She picked up a suitcase and threw it onto the bed. “Mom’s really pissed off, and Dad’s just sad and guilty.” She unzipped the bag and dug through her clothes until she found her cardigan. It was always a piece of home to her. She slipped it on and turned back to Cole. He was watching her, but his eyes were distant.
“Cole?” she asked. “You okay?”
His eyes snapped back to her. “Yeah, I’m fine. You get comfortable and I’ll go start some supper. I think I know what you like.” He winked and left the room.
She watched him disappear down the hallway, her heart pounding in her throat. She couldn’t believe she’d actually left home. She couldn’t believe she was staying at Cole’s house. She couldn’t believe he’d bought her a pink shag rug.
* * *
Even though she was used to sleeping in different beds all the time, it was difficult sleeping in her new room. The first three nights, she lay awake and stared out the window until three or four in the morning. She imagined the stars in the sky might be brighter if she was way out in the country. The fourth night, she finally got some decent sleep. When she wandered into the kitchen in the morning, Cole was at the stove, as usual. She was pretty sure he would leave in an hour, like he had the past three days. She didn’t ask him where he was going or when he would be back. She guessed it was a job of some sort—one he was ashamed of for some reason. But why? Good hard work was good hard work. It seemed so unlike him to be ashamed.
“Do you want me to start making breakfast in the mornings?” she asked as she sank into a chair at the table.
Cole flipped a piece of bacon and looked at her over his shoulder. “Only if you want to. You look good this morning. Did you sleep better?”
She blushed. “Yeah, I did, thanks.”
She wondered how he could say she looked good when she had just rolled out of bed and stumbled into the kitchen. Her hair was curly and matted, and she was sure there were dark circles under her eyes.
“That’s great.” He flipped another piece of bacon then reached over to the toaster to push down the handle. “So,” he said, his back still turned to her, “have you looked at your phone lately?”
“Huh?” She was in the middle of pouring herself a glass of orange juice. A few drops splashed onto the table.
“Your parents keep calling me to see how you’re doing. They told me you’re not answering your phone.” He turned around just as the toast popped up, perfectly brown. “You know they’re not hurting you on purpose, right?”
She wiped up the drops of juice with her thumb. “Yeah, I know. I’m really bad at keeping my phone charged. I’ve never been away for so long from most of the people who want to get a hold of me. It’s weird.”
He turned around and cracked a few eggs into the bacon grease. He didn’t cook light, that was for sure. She was used to all the fresh vegetables and Lean Cuisine her mom had at home. She usually ate cereal or fruit for breakfast. All of this meat and eggs was a nice change, but she worried for when she stepped on the scale next.
Cole brought over a plate full of food and set it in front of her. “There you go.”
He sat down to dig into his plate piled twice as high as hers.
“Got enough there?” she asked with a smirk.
“I won’t be home for lunch, so I’m trying to store up.” He grinned and patted his flat stomach. “Like a camel.”
“They store water, not food . . . I think. Oh, and when will you be home? I’ll try to have supper ready.” Her cheeks warmed when she said this. She stabbed a piece of bacon. “Wow, it’s like we’re married or something.”
Cole almost spit out the orange juice he was chugging down. He swallowed and said, “Marriage isn’t just about getting food on the table . . . and wives don’t usually pay the husbands rent.”
“I know, but I thought that was funny.” Or maybe it was just a crazy realization about what her life might be like one day. Her parents tried to live as normally as possible. They cooked for each other all the time. Sometimes she cooked too, so it shouldn’t feel weird with Cole—except they weren’t married.
Just keep your mouth shut, Maggie!
Cole watched her chew her bacon. Her cheeks were still warm because she was remembering the first time the M-word was brought up when they were a couple. During a break at the recording studio, they’d gone down the hall to the vending machine to get a Coke . . . and to kiss, because they had to steal every moment they could behind her parents’ backs.
“Want to share?” Cole had asked her as his can dropped into the tray and she bent to pick it up.
She laughed. “We swap spit when we make out, so why not?”
He had kissed her then, the Coke can cold in her hand as she held it at her side. She moved her other hand to his waist, pushing up his shirt to brush her fingers across his warm skin. When they finished the kiss, he touched her face and slid his lips across her forehead.
“I want to share so much with you,” he whispered. “More than a Coke, obviously. Let’s tell your parents about us, and then maybe . . . maybe we can think about moving to a more serious stage of this relationship.”
Maggie swallowed. To her, a more serious stage of the relationship could only mean one thing. “You mean marriage?” she squeaked. She was nineteen at the time. They had only been together for two months, and he’d never mentioned anything about getting more serious. What could he possibly be thinking?
He chewed on his bottom lip and smiled. “Well, I didn’t mean that far, but maybe . . .” His eyes went distant, as if he was trying to sort through something extremely complicated.
Her heart melted as she fell against his chest and took a deep breath of him. He had become so much a part of her those past two months. His smell was always on her clothes, his hands on her every second he could steal her away from prying eyes and stop pretending they were only friends. “You love me enough to spend the rest of your life with me?” she asked, breathless. The very thought of taking such a big step nearly knocked her off her feet, but it was exciting at the same time.
Then they heard voices around the corner and Cole and Maggie split apart so fast she almost dropped the Coke can. Cole never mentioned that conversation again, and she was too afraid to bring it up. After that, the word marriage sprouted up between them, a thorny bush she didn’t dare try to claw her way through. It was a scary word back then. It was still a scary word.
“You’re a great friend,” Cole said, bringing her back to the present as he took another bite of bacon. He was clearly unfazed by her use of the M-word. She tried to tear her eyes away from his, but it was too difficult. They were filled with an emotion she couldn’t pin down. Longing? Regret? She had no idea.
“Thanks,” she said. “You’re a better friend than I am, though—letting me stay here and everything.”
“Anytime,” he said, nodding. “I mean that.” He looked away and shoveled some more food into his mouth. “I just want you to know you’re more than . . .”
His voice faded as he chewed. Maggie paused in the middle of cutting her fried egg. The yolk spilled across her plate, bright yellow. “More than what?” she asked.
Cole swallowed. “You’re more than your parents’ divorce. Promise me you won’t let it define who you are, okay? I know how easy it is to let it consume you.”
Breathing a sigh of relief, she nodded. “Thanks, Cole. I guess I didn’t realize that might happen.”
“Trust me, it can happen. I was a wreck for three years after my parents divorced. I screwed up a lot trying to figure out who the hell I am.” Closing his eyes, he swiped a hand across his forehead. “Really screwed up.”
She found that hard to imagine, but before she could ask him what mistakes he’d made, she remembered she wasn’t supposed to ask him any questions. They finished their breakfast in silence, and he stood and grabbed his coat from a hook near the door to the garage.
“I’ll see you tonight, Maggie.” He gave her a sweet smile. “Have a good day.”
“Thanks. See you later, Cole.”
When he was gone, she gathered up the dishes and started scrubbing them in the sink. She tried not to focus on how much she missed her parents. She had lied to Cole about not charging her phone. The truth was she had seen every call come in from them. She was just too much of a coward to answer. It would hurt too much.
* * *
When Cole arrived home, Maggie turned away from the stove and smiled.
“Damn, that smells good. Jambalaya?”
“Yep. Turns out you’re a big fan of Andouille sausage. Your freezer’s full of it.”
“Hey, as long as pig guts don’t gross you out.” He went over to look into the stockpot as she stirred the thick mixture. “Actually, it’s not the same as andouillette, and I don’t think the kind I buy is made out of the guts.”
“Yes, Mr. Chef.”
He was standing so close to her. She took a deep breath, expecting to get a whiff of his typical manly scent, or at least the smell of his truck. Instead, she smelled something strange. Sterile. Harsh soap, maybe. She opened her mouth to ask him where he’d been all day, but stopped herself yet again.
“Is it ready?” he asked, heading to the sink to wash his hands. “The camel thing didn’t work out too great today. I’m starving.”
“Yeah, it’s ready. Dish it up whenever you want.”
“Thanks.” He scrubbed his hands under the hot water. His hair wasn’t mashed down, meaning he hadn’t worn his hat today. Maggie dished herself up a bowl and went to sit at the table. He sat down next to her with twice as much food. She watched him take the first bite. His expression made all the time she’d spent cooking worth it.
“This is my mom’s recipe,” he said, his eyes squeezed shut as he chewed.
“Yep. I found your mom’s cookbook.” She pointed toward a shelf near the kitchen cupboards when Cole opened his eyes. “I’m surprised you don’t weigh as much as an elephant if you grew up eating all that fattening food.”
Cole laughed. “Real suthin’ cookin’! That’s my mom for you. I think the only thing that saved me was my teenage boy metabolism, and the only thing that saves me now is the gym.” Taking another bite of jambalaya, he rolled his eyes to the back of his head and said, “This is unbelievably good,” in a way that made her blush from her head to her toes.
“Just followed the recipe,” she mumbled and took her first bite. It was good. “So,” she said, happy Cole was comfortable and satisfied, “when are you going to start playing in this new band of yours? Can I tag along? Maybe play some stuff with you? I don’t have to sing, but I’d like to do something music related while I’m here.”
He opened his eyes and swallowed. “Are you bored here all day? I’m sorry.”
“No, not really. I’ve been writing some music and lyrics and catching up on some TV shows.”
“Have you called Grace? Filled her in on your news about moving out?”
Her smile fell. “No, not yet. Grace is . . . she’s really busy getting settled in. She won’t start classes until spring semester, but she has a lot going on. I mean, I don’t think she’s going to see her parents for Thanksgiving. She might see them on Christmas, but she’s serious about this whole growing up and being on her own thing.”
“Hm-hm.” He nodded as if he didn’t believe her.
“What? It’s true. She wants a big change and I don’t fit into anything she’s doing. We text once in a while. I knew that’s how it would be.”
Cole’s expression softened into pity. “I’m sorry, Maggie. You must feel like you’ve lost your best friend.”
Looking down, she shrugged. “Yeah, a little.”
“And then I told you I was leaving the band . . .”
She nodded, still unable to look up at him. She didn’t want him to feel guilty. He had his own choices to make without needing to consider her. She watched his hand move across the table toward hers.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly as he closed his fingers around the hand holding her spoon. “I’m here for you, okay? Please don’t ever assume you don’t fit into anything I’m doing—even if I’m being secretive about stuff right now.”
Lifting her eyes to him, she had the sudden urge to embrace him, but kept it inside. “Okay.”
His hand tightened around hers for a second before he let go and started eating again. After a moment, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I almost forgot to tell you. I met someone perfect for you.”
She nearly choked on a piece of shrimp. “Huh?”
“A doctor,” he explained, beaming. “I met him this morning.”
“A doctor for what?”
He paused for dramatic effect, clearly excited. “For your voice. If you want, he can fix you.”