Page 55 of Easy On Me

“Sorry about that.” She gestured from us to Scott and Andrea. “Y’all together?”

“No.” Andrea and I spoke at once, talking over one another.

The hostess’s face fell. “Oh. We only have one table open. It might be up to thirty minutes unless two of you want to try the bar.”

“We’ll sit at the bar.” I grabbed Maggie’s hand and dragged her toward the back room that held the bar. Grateful to find it not as packed as I’d seen it on other nights, I pulled her toward two seats on the far end and clambered onto the stool.

“What can I get you?” Smiling, the bartender walked away from the other side, where she’d been flirting with a couple of young local cops.

I dumped my bag on the floor next to my stool. “Water.”

“Water, too, please, and the loaded nachos.” Maggie’s eyes glinted with concern when she looked sideways at me. “And I might need a margarita, too.”

Our water was in front of us within seconds, and the bartender bustled away to blend Maggie’s margarita. I pulled a couple of napkins from the dispenser, set one aside and began folding the other, accordion-style. Anything to keep my hands moving.

“Please tell me what is going on.” Voice soft, Maggie brushed my hair from my cheek with a gentle hand.

“Elizabeth Hall is pregnant.” I dropped the bald words between us and watched the shock bloom in Maggie’s eyes. “And she says it’s his.”

“Oh.” Maggie’s breath whooshed out in an audible gasp.

“Yeah.” I tore a vicious strip off the napkin, like I’d done in a half dozen different school cafeterias over the years, surrounded by noise and laugher and people I barely knew. “Oh.”

“Okay.” Maggie laid a soft hand on my wrist, rubbing with her thumb. She pulled in a breath, squaring her shoulders. “Okay.”

I glared sideways. “Okay? Maggie.”

“Okay like I’m wrapping my brain around the information.” She waved her other hand, casting a distracted smile at the bartender, who set our nachos in front of us. The rich scents of meat and cheese and spices rose, choking me. Maggie reached for a chip. She could eat no matter what was going on. “What did you say to him?”

“Nothing.” I ripped another strip off the napkin and curled it around my pinky. My wedding rings glimmered in the light. I should rip those off, too. “I picked up my bag and walked out.”

“Really?” Maggie chewed and reached for another chip, her face pensive. “Okay.”

“Mags.” I closed my eyes, clenching the half-shredded napkin. My nose clogged up, eyes prickling. “Would you please stop saying okay? This is not okay. None of this is okay.”

“I know, honey.” She rubbed a soothing circle on my back, and I swallowed a sob. What was I going to do? “I know.”

Elbows on the bar, I buried my face in my hands, tears wetting my palms. I was safe with Maggie. I could cry a little, even in public, and then pull myself together and she would help me figure everything out.

Once she stopped saying okay.

“Listen.” She chafed my back, and I lifted my head to meet her loving gaze. “I know you don’t want to, but eat a little. It’ll settle your stomach, plus it’s good for the baby. And then we’ll go back to my house and you can yell and cuss and call her names all you want to.”

See? She got me. I’d be able to get all the hurt out with her, then I could talk to Mama Nancy, who would be calm and centered and wise.

And she was right – I didn’t want to eat, but my baby needed me to. I’d decided to be the best mama I could be for him, so that meant sometimes doing things I didn’t want to.

Sniffling, I reached for a chip. Maggie smiled and patted my back, then leaned in to press her forehead to my temple. “I love you, Tyler Anne, and I promise you . . . it’ll be okay.”

I cut my eyes at her, and she merely hugged me.

Once we’d eaten – and I did try, choking down about a third of the nachos – I followed her to the little rental house she’d taken over from me when I moved in with Jase. I showered in the guest bathroom and pulled on a t-shirt and leggings I borrowed from her, then wandered through to the master bedroom to find her. She’d showered as well, her coppery hair pulled into a messy ponytail, a pink Mexico Beach t-shirt over her striped turquoise sleep shorts.

“You changed the sheets since you dumped him, right?” Arms folded over my midriff, I cast a skeptical glance over her bed. She’d given Noah back his ring a few days ago, and he was being a jerk about it, texting and leaving tacky gifts, even showing up at the house uninvited.

“Yes.” She threw the smallest decorative pillow at me, and I ducked. “What kind of question is that?”

“Just checking. Didn’t want to catch any more douchebag germs.” I slumped onto the side of the bed, one leg folded under me. My shoulders drooped, suddenly heavy like I’d been carrying a weighted backpack all day. “I already have those.”