“Look at you,” her mother gestured to her attire. “I’m not blind. I see through your performance this morning. Every time you and Charles had an issue, and you wanted to impress or make up with him, you did this homemaker routine. The moment that strange man walked in the door, you were tripping over your words and acting like a schoolgirl. You think I don’t see it?” Delores asked.
“Who cares if you see it? I’m a grown woman.”
“A widow with a young baby whose future is now at risk because the Montgomery’s and the whole town is after you. That’s who you are now, honey,” Delores said.
“Oh, please. Don’t be so dramatic,” Delilah chuckled.
“You had a life before this mess started. Remember that? You built something important in this town. That man is some bad cop with a nice smile. He is not to be trusted! Queen told us that much.”
“Is that why you brought up Charles? Defended Charles? Seriously? After everything I’ve been through, you throw my marriage in my face? Let me remind you that Charles never loved me. What we had stifled me. Even our intimacy was weird.”
Delores shook her head to end the conversation.
“No. You’ll listen. Because of Charles, I’m in this situation.”
“Not true.”
“It is true, you heard the tape. I know you heard it because it's on constant replay all over the news. And you were there. You saw it. I was too young to marry him. Too young to be in a relationship with a man with so many secrets and agendas. I’m free of him now.”
“Free? That makes no sense. You’re mourning the death of your husband, hiding from your grief. You aren’t free. You have this stranger threatening to take Noah from you. How does that make you free? Charles was never a burden to you. Yes. Yes. I know he was wrong for what he did. And I hate him for hurting you and Noah. But you were never a slave or a captive in your marriage.”
“How would you know, mama? When did you ever ask me how my marriage was? When did you ever question me about Charles the way you do about Maverick?”
“Delilah, listen to me, please. There is no future with that man. Not the kind of future you worked so hard to build. You have to know that.”
“I never said there was,” Delilah shrugged. “But if I want one...”
“You don’t!” Her mother stomped her foot. “You don’t. You need to fix this thing with you and Mother Abigail. Send him away and bring the Montgomery’s together. Show her that you’re serious about ending this drama. Before it’s too late!”
“What is going on with you? Ever since this started, you’ve been acting weird. What are you not telling me?” Delilah searched her mother’s face for an explanation. It looked as if Delores wanted to share her troubles, but she couldn’t or wouldn’t. “Fine. Keep your secrets. Nothing will surprise me about Mother Abigail or you anymore. Maverick is my sons' father. He’s here for however long I decide. He is not an enemy of yours or just a visitor. He’s an invited guest, mama. You either show him respect or stay in your room and away from him. And don’t question me in front of him again. This is my life, this time, I make all decisions. Not Charles, not Mother Abigail, and not you. My choice. I don’t know what she has over you, mama. I wish you would trust me. I know what it’s like when what you do in the dark comes to light. Better than anyone.”
“I love you, Delilah. With all my heart. You’re my only child. I want you to be happy. I really do. But Mother Abigail is not done with us. Maverick shouldn’t be here. In this house. But I can’t make you understand... she’s not done.”
“I’m not afraid of her. Why should I be?” Delilah walked. The look of grave concern on her mothers’ face didn’t matter. Nothing could take away her happiness. Not one could hurt her anymore.
IT WAS LUNCHTIME. FROM the patio, Maverick heard the knock at the door. Noah came running with eyes stretched wide with fright. The toddler looked up at his father for an explanation and then back to where the knocking was coming from.
“Sounds like we have a guest Noah, don’t be afraid,” Maverick said. “He’s right on time.” He eased Noah back inside and joined him, careful to close the patio door to keep the cold out. Kitchen pots were where Noah had decided to drag them. The steaks were just about ready to turn, and the salmon had finished in the oven ten minutes ago. Noah followed his father. He whined as he walked behind him for attention. Maverick scooped his son into his arms and carried him to the door. “No crying. I want to make a good impression. Deal?”
Noah nodded as if he understood the command. Since they arrived back at the cottage, Maverick had done everything in his power to be a super dad, and Noah made his work easy. All the kid wanted was attention and access to all the kitchen pots inside the cabinets. Now Maverick had another important person in Delilah’s life to impress. He took a deep breath and opened the door.
“Mr. Fletcher, glad you came,” Maverick said when he greeted the visitor. It was Delilah’s father, and the man was punctual.
“It sure is cold out here, had me waiting,” Henry Fletcher walked straight in, dropping clumps of snow. “I hate that about the Cove. You know? Seems to be cold all year round now. Probably global warming, too. I dunno. I’m too old for it all.” Delilah’s’ father took off his snow-covered cap and then shrugged off his coat. Maverick stepped up in time to receive everything. He feared the older gentleman would probably drop it on the floor. He put Noah down. His son ran over to his grandfather while beating his hand against the top of a pot’s lid. “Just like your mama, aren’t you?” Henry Fletcher shook his head with a deep burly chuckle. “Look at this. Is that your personal tambourine? Just like your mother, I tell you. She made anything in the house she could find into an instrument. It’s why Delores got her music lessons.”
“Cute,” Henry said and ruffled the top of his grandson’s curly head.
“You know I can’t smoke cigars,” Henry said to Maverick. “But if you got one, I wouldn’t mind it this one time.” Henry picked up his grandson and tossed the pot lid to the floor. He kissed Noah when the toddler protested and carried him to where the other toys were. Maverick hung everything on the coat hooks and joined them.
“Sorry, Mr. Fletcher, I don’t have cigars. I don’t smoke.”
“Call me Henry. Everyone else does,” he said. He bounced Noah on his knee and let him ride it like a horse. It seems to be their thing. Noah held his arms out like an airman and grinned while bobbing up and down. Henry held him straight and upright by the firm grip he had on the back of the toddler’s shirt.
“Excuse me for a minute. The steaks are ready,” Maverick turned to leave.
“Steaks! Wait. What Steaks?” Henry shouted. Maverick looked back at the alarm in the older gentleman's voice. Henry Fletcher’s eyes were wide with delight. “I haven’t had a steak in three years. Before Delores and Delilah changed my diet. You grilling in the snow? Well, I’ll be damned. And Delilah lets Noah eat Steak too? Does she know?” Henry asked.
“Ah, well, no. I have salmon for him. She told me he’s a pescatarian.”