The edges of the daily list crinkled in my hands as Iheld the paper too tightly. I wanted to backpedal. I wanted to change my opinion.Of course the therapist was robbing them. Of course that wasn’t okay.
But I couldn’t. The words had been spoken. And I wastoo paranoid about suspicious behavior to explain my sometimes wish-washy moralcompass.
Instead, I stared hard at the list and tried to stopthe words from blurring. Thankfully, Maggie changed the subject.
“Oh, you got a package on Saturday,” she said. “It’sin the office.”
“That’s strange. Do you know who it’s from?”
She shook her head. “Didn’t pay attention. The FedExguy dropped it off with the rest. Just happened to notice your name on thelabel right before I opened it.”
“Okay, I’ll check it out. It’s probably address labelsor socks or something.” She raised a curious eyebrow. “I can’t think ofanything else I would have ordered and then forgotten about.”
“Maybe you didn’t order anything. Maybe it’s fromsomeone else.”
I snorted, brushing her off. “Not likely.”
“From your parents?” she pressed.“Along-lost uncle?Old boyfriend?”
Plopping my chin into my hand, I leaned over thecounter and grinned at her. “Fishingarewe?” Itwasn’t like Maggie to pry into my personal life. We had a very strict you stayout of mybusiness,I’ll stay out of yours silentagreement. When it came to skeletons in the closet, I was an amateur comparedto this woman.
Okay, maybe she wasn’t wanted by one of the scariestRussian mob syndicates on the East Coast, but she had her fair share ofsecrets.
She waved her hand through the air. “Just curious. Younever take vacation. I’ve only ever seen you with that roommate of yours. Iknow you and still like you. Surely there are other people out there that alsoknow you and still like you.”
I swallowed down the truth until it hit stomach acidand burned up in the churning of my nerves. “There are plenty of people outthere that know me and still like me, but to be honest I’ve always been aloner. I don’t have a lot of friends back home.”
“Family?”
I rolled my eyes, but gave her some truth. “Just mydad. He’s not really the package sending kind of guy.”
“What happened to your mom?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” I told her, fullyhonest this time. “She took off after I was born. My dad met her at a stripclub. She was his favorite dancer. Dad said she liked the idea of playinghouse, settling down. But after I was born, she realized real fast that the momlife was not for her.”
Maggie’s jaw turned to steel. “I will never understandwomen like that. Being a mom isn’t a choice. You got a kid, you’re a mom. Endof story.”
I smiled and it was genuine and a little sad andfilled with memories of my choices. “I feel the exact same way. As soon as Ifound out I was pregnant with Jules, life changed for me. Every decision I madeafter that was for her. I was done thinking about me.”
Maggie winked at me. “That’s because you’re one of thegood ones. Despite your mom being a piece of shit.”
My hand fluttered to my heart, full of fauxindignation. “Magdalen Marie! How dare you talk about my mother that way!”
She grinned at me. “Oh, like you haven’t thought that.”
Once or twice, but I couldn’t reward Maggie’s badbehavior. “All right, sassy pants, go away now so I can get some work done.”
She pushed to standing and headed toward the officewith the morning newspaper in one hand and the coffee I brought for her in theother. “Don’t forget about your package.”
I had already forgotten about it. “Oh, right. I’llinvestigate it during my lunch break.”
“You’re not the least bit curious right now?”
“Not when I’m forty-five minutes behind on this listand theMcGregorsare having issues with their sink!”
“Atta girl.”
We parted ways for the morning. I would see her aroundlunchtime when I took over her office to have a few minutes of peace and eat myham sandwich. That’s when I would deal with the mystery package.
