Page 210 of American Hellhound
“Hello,” Denise greeted formally. She looked thinner, if it was possible, her wrists bony where her sweater sleeves slipped down and revealed them, the veins there blue and prominent. “Lovely weather for January, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Maggie agreed, stepping inside and shrugging out of her jacket.
It was always a dance with her mother, observing all the little social niceties with breath held, waiting for the knife-slice of insult to descend.
“How are you feeling?” Denise asked. When Maggie turned to her, she saw that her face was pinched, wrinkles she normally took great care to hide showing at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Maggie didn’t know what to make of it.
“I feel good. A little tired.”Horny, she left out. And Ghost was all about that. He wouldn’t say it, but he was proud as hell, in a primal, male way, to know that he’d gotten her in this condition. He was working out more strenuously, drinking less. He looked damn good, and he couldn’t keep his hands off of her. “Happy,” she told her mom, smiling gently. Because shewas. Being expectant parents as responsible, home-owning adults who knew what they were doing was so much more peaceful than being young and desperate.
Denise nodded, expression almost sad. She took a deep breath. “I was just about to feed your father lunch if you want to join us.”
“That sounds great.”
Arthur Lowe, sick or well, was vulnerable as a newborn when it came to feeding himself. He could barely work a microwave, completely helpless when it came to stove tops and ovens.
He looked well today, though, Maggie was happy to see, already sitting at the head of the dining room table, paging through the day’s paper, a glass of iced tea waiting on a coaster. His color was good, and he’d gained a little much-needed weight since last year’s angioplasty.
His face lit up when Maggie entered the room, and she was reminded that at least one of her parents loved her.
“There’s my Maggie girl,” he said, beaming, as he stood to intercept her with a gentle hug. He’d always hugged her like she was made of spun sugar; no one had ever given her a tight, warm, full-body hug until Ghost came into her life.
And people wondered how she ended up living on the wrong side of the law.
“Hi, Dad, you okay?”
“Oh yes, of course.” He eased her back at arm’s length and looked down at her growing belly. “Do we know what you’re expecting yet?” He seemed eager.
“Yeah, Ghost and I just left the doctor.”
“A shame he couldn’t join us,” Denise said, coming in with a tray of sandwiches.
Maggie shared a look with her dad, Arthur’s brows raised skeptically, Maggie biting back a smile.
“He had to get back to Dartmoor,” Maggie said, taking a ham sandwich from the stack and sitting down gratefully. Her back was starting to bother her the further along she got.
“She found out the gender, dear,” Arthur said when they were all seated.
Denise looked mildly curious. “And?”
“It’s a boy.”
Arthur said, “That’s wonderful!”
Denise said, “A boy,” without inflection.
“How exciting,” Arthur said, “now you’ll have one of each.” He seemed to catch himself. “Of course, Aidan–”
“Will be a great big brother,” Maggie finished for him, not wanting him to think he’d stepped in it too badly. She thought of Aidan as hers, but she knew her parents had never looked at him as a grandson – hell, she wasn’t sure they looked at Ava as a granddaughter most of the time. “He was always so good with Ava.”
Looking down at her plate, Denise said, “Kenneth must be glad to have another biker on the way.”
“Mom,” Maggie chided.
“With a girl, there might be a chance…at least, that’s what I tell myself. But Ava…”
“Mom.” Pregnancy made her bolder, brought out the mother lioness in her – well, brought it outmoredramatically. “Can’t you just love them? No matter what they choose to do with their lives.”
Denise lifted her head, her eyes damp, her smile tremulous. “I’m trying,” she whispered.
