Then I told her about the night at the diner when I told him about Richard and the way he stormed off. She apologized again for her part in it, even though she had no idea what the kids were scheming.
Then I explained about the article Slyce sent me, Haizley inviting us to Thanksgiving, and Frankie’s conclusion about Derek being the unidentified man who almost killed Richard. I kept my voice low in case the girls came downstairs, not wanting them to overhear my conversation with Maggie.
“Wow,” Maggie said when I finished. “And you said your life wasn’t exciting.”
I chuckled, but the sound was hollow.
Maggie was quiet; she sipped her coffee, and I waited to hear what she thought. She dropped her hands to her lap, careful not to spill her coffee, then looked at me.
“I don’t have any experience with men. I’ve never even been kissed.” I tried to hide my shock at her confession. “But after hearing all that, I have to agree with Frankie. I think Derek’s disappearance is one hell of a coincidence.”
“But why would he do that? He barely knows us.”
“I told you about my parents. How my dad started drinking when my mom died.” I nodded silently, waiting for her to continue. “People ask me all the time how I’m not angry with him. What they don’t understand is, I know how much my dad was hurting. My mom wasn’t just his world; she was his universe. He loved her in a way I have never seen before, and I don’t think I will ever see again.
“This orchard has been in my family for generations, but what people don’t realize is that it’s not my father’s legacy. It’s my mother’s. When my parents got married, my dad changed his last name so their children would have the Winslow name.
“He gave up everything for her; he took over running the orchard so she could paint, so she could raise us.” Maggie inhaled deeply, letting the breath out slowly before she continued, “When she died, his universe collapsed on top of him. He didn’t know how to live anymore.”
I shook my head. “That’s no excuse,” I said softly, not wanting to upset her. “You can’t let grief stop you from living. You can’t allow the bad things in life make you neglect everything and everyone around you.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” she asked carefully.
“What do you mean?”
“You told me about Stacy, and how she lied. How you lost your trust in friendship. One bad friend doesn’t mean everyone will hurt you.”
“It’s not one bad friend.” I argued. “It’s a series of people who have let me down.”
“What about the ones who haven’t?”
“There aren’t any,” I said. Except Frankie. She was the only person in my life who hadn’t let me down. She was a child. Children weren’t born with the capacity to hurt; I didn’t carewhat religion said about everyone being born in sin. It was bullshit.
Children weren’t born with an inherent desire to be mean. They did what appealed to them because they didn’t know any better. If it was wrong by society’s standards, then it was the parent’s fault for not teaching their child the difference between right and wrong.
“How will you know if someone will love you or hurt you if you don’t give them a chance to be in your life?”
“It’s not worth the risk,” I said.
Maggie shrugged. “Then maybe I’m better off not meeting anyone.”
My eyes snapped to hers. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s what you said,” she countered, bringing her cup to her mouth.
“You’re twisting my words around, Maggie.” The words came out sharper than I wanted them to.
“No, I’m trying to show you the flaw in your logic. If you’d never met Richard, you likely wouldn’t have Frankie. If you never met Clay, you wouldn’t be sitting here on my back porch, and Frankie wouldn’t be upstairs hanging out with someone who needs her as much if not more than Frankie needs a friend.”
I slumped back against the swing and thought about what she said.
“Is the reward worth the risk?” she asked, then shrugged. “Sometimes. But until you take the risk, you’ll never get the reward.”
I side-eyed my new friend and pouted because she was right. I hated that Frankie had to endure so much at such a young age, but without her mother’s abuse and her father’s rejection, I wouldn’t have her, and there was no doubt in my mind that Frankie was always meant to be my daughter.
“You aren’t allowed to be more mature than me. You’re only twenty-two.”
Maggie threw her head back and laughed.
