A Wedding in December - Sarah Morgan Page 0,16

not offer the same latitude, she’d felt it safer to stay where she was.

She looked closely at Nick and noticed the fine lines around his eyes. He looked tired.

“Have you eaten?”

She knew he sometimes forgot, and judging from the sheepish expression on his face this was one of those occasions.

“No. I forgot to shop, so I thought I’d grab something in college.”

“I’ll make you something if you have time to eat it.”

“I always have time for anything you cook.” He stood up. “What can I do to help?”

She gaped at him. “That’s the first time you’ve ever said that.”

“That’s not true. I clean up after you. I am a champion cleaner-upper.”

“But you don’t usually help with the cooking part.”

“Because you’re so good at it. Also, you never let me near the kitchen.”

Was that true? Probably. She’d wanted and needed something that was all hers. Something she could excel at and own.

Plenty of people would have rolled their eyes at her apparent lack of work ambition, but Maggie didn’t care. She’d been there when the girls had taken their first steps. She’d taught them both to read. Never once had she felt that what she was doing was anything less than valuable.

It was only in the past couple of years that she’d started to feel dissatisfied.

She envied people whose life looked exactly the way they wanted it to look. People like Nick and Katie, who had a passion and followed it. Even Rosie seemed to know the path she wanted to take.

Maggie felt as if she’d strolled randomly through life with no map.

“If you want to help, you could fetch eggs from the fridge.” She pulled a large bowl out of the cupboard and a whisk from the drawer.

When he put the eggs next to her she selected six and broke them into the bowl while he watched.

“The last omelet I made was crunchy.”

She tried not to smile. “Generally, it’s best not to include the shell.”

“Ah, so that’s the secret. I knew there had to be one.”

She snipped fresh herbs from the pots she nurtured on her windowsill and added them to the mixture, then she poured half into the hot pan, waiting as it sizzled.

“It isn’t only about me. I worry about her.”

“You have to stop protecting her, Mags.”

“The day I stop protecting my child is never going to come.”

“You know what I mean. She knows she will always have our love and support, but we have to let her live her life the way she chooses to live it.”

“Even if that life is a million miles away?”

“That’s an exaggeration.”

“It might as well be that far.” She lifted the edges of the omelet and when she was satisfied she folded it perfectly. “Life can be tough, we both know that. You need family around you. What if she does settle there? What if they break up? What happens if they don’t break up, and have babies? I’d want to be able to help, but I won’t be close enough.”

“Wait—you’re worrying you might not be able to help with the baby they don’t have yet? You expend a huge amount of energy worrying about things that haven’t happened.”

“I don’t expect you to understand.” She slid the omelet onto a plate, sprinkled it with a few chopped chives and handed it to him. “All I’m saying is that it will be tough to support them from here.”

He put the plate on the table and sat down. “This looks delicious, thanks.” He picked up a fork. “And as for support, maybe they’ll live close to Dan’s mother.”

Why didn’t that make her feel better? Her mind raced ahead. Catherine was already arranging her daughter’s wedding, and there was every chance she’d be the favored grandmother. Maggie would be the stranger they saw a few times a year.

Who’s that, kids? No, it’s not a stranger, it’s your granny. Give her a hug and a kiss.

She imagined them recoiling, screwing up their faces as they tolerated a kiss from this semistranger.

A lump formed in her throat.

She wanted to tell Nick how it had made her feel, but she couldn’t find a way to say it that didn’t make her seem horribly small-minded. And maybe she was being ridiculous. Worrying about things that hadn’t happened. She did that a lot.

She poured the rest of the egg mixture into the pan, even though she didn’t have much of an appetite.

“Talking of tough stuff,” Nick said, “we need to fix a time to tell the girls the truth about

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