“I’ve always wished we had a garden,” Walter said, bending to pet Beau. “But between me and Phoebe there was no one to take care of one. And hiring it done just wouldn’t be the same, would it?”
“Mother isn’t sinking her hands in the dirt, Walter. You know better than that,” Maggie said.
“Well, she’s good at other things,” he said.
“Like what?” Maggie asked, sounding insolent.
But Walter laughed. “She’s a genius at hiring a cleaning service and picking restaurants. And she has other gifts—she’s a great decorator. An excellent travel companion. She can entertain with great fanfare. And I think you don’t give her enough credit for being a wonderful mother.”
Maggie reserved comment on that. It might just be there were too many complications given two marriages, the separation from Sully. She was willing to give Phoebe the benefit of the doubt. Maybe under it all she was a good mother, just not that good for Maggie.
“I’m getting back to work,” Sully said. “Nice to see you, Walter.”
The men shook hands and Sully wandered off toward the store, Beau at his heels.
“And I should get back to Golden,” Walter said. “It was nice having lunch with you, Maggie. I think you picked a nice place to hole up awhile.”
“I think you came here to give me things to think about. So let me admit it—I miss my job. The patients, the surgery, some of the staff. It’s just the other forces—insurance, administrators, lawsuits, politics and Jesus, even the media. They make it so hard to help people.”
“I know. It’s very hard to find a way to do what you do on your own terms.”
“Did you? Do it on your terms?”
“Yes,” he said. “There were occasional trade-offs but I managed most of the time. But it’s obvious in one hour here that I wanted an entirely different kind of life than you do. I didn’t grow up in the country, in the mountains. I grew up in a nice house in Chicago. I didn’t play sports. I got a chemistry set when I was seven. I was in the chess club, the debate club, the science club—the old-fashioned version of a nerd. And all I wanted in a wife was everything that would drive Sully and maybe you crazy.” He smiled at her. “No one can live your life but you, Maggie. But if you find a way to use your talents to help people I think you’ll be happier.”
She couldn’t deny it. She was deeply touched that Walter would do this—ditch her mother and drive to the crossing to speak to her alone. No pressure, just a conversation. “You’re a good man, Walter. You’ve been a good father to me.”
He kissed her forehead. “I’m very proud of you. In all your incarnations.”
*
The store was pretty quiet so they left Jackson in charge and went to the house for dinner. Maggie grilled a couple of fish fillets and sautéed some vegetables.
Sully sat at the table. “That was good of Walter to drive down just to talk to you,” he said. “You’re a very lucky girl.”
“Yes, Walter went out of his way, didn’t he? And wouldn’t it be nice if my own father had gone out of his way? When I was growing up?”
Sully put down his fork. “How dare you say that to me,” he said, his voice very calm.
“Well, you let them take me, you let them keep me even though all of you knew I wanted to be here. And you—”
“Stop it!” he snapped. “You were a little girl! You needed some things I couldn’t give you, like a decent education! You needed a mother and don’t you dare criticize your mother again—she sacrificed so much for you. I don’t like her but she was damn good to you and she wouldn’t have married Walter if he hadn’t been the best thing for you! And before you lay that on me one more time I want you to think about the sacrifice I made—my own child, gone to another state because it was the best thing. You think you’d be a goddamn surgeon if you’d stayed here where I wanted you to be?”
She broke down. “I thought you didn’t want me. I thought you found me annoying,” she whispered.
“You are annoying! But I loved you with a father’s heart! I wanted more for you! It was terrible. And I wouldn’t change one goddamn thing!”
She put her hands over her face, covering the tears. She was probably ten the last time she cried in front of Sully.
“Maggie, don’t snivel about it. I did the best I could and I apologize if it wasn’t good enough.”
“It was good enough,” she said. “You never say you love me.”
“I just did,” he grumbled. “I’ll say one thing—you never thank me for all the years I did without you for your own damn good. If you had a child, you’d understand.”
I almost did, she thought, emotions overflowing.
“Because I’ll tell you something, Maggie—when you have a child you’ll understand how hard it is when she’s taken from you. I guess I was supposed to grieve for you so you’d be convinced it wasn’t fun for me, but I didn’t want to do that to you. I wanted you to take everything offered you in a good home and not feel the tearing inside when—”