Page 4 of Playing for Keeps in Starr's Fall
Maggie had taken a slug of Baileys, trying not to be insulted by her sister’s canny intuition. Now that their move was getting close, she had been experiencing a tiny frisson of cold feet. “What makes you think I don’t want to move?” she’d asked, a bit truculently.
“I just mean… it seemed kind of sudden,” Lynn replied, which was more diplomacy than she’d exhibited in some time.
Maggie had stared into the depths of her drink; one gulp of Baileys had sent her head spinning. “You know I have to do this for Ben,” she’d said quietly.
Lynn had been silent for a long time. She’d been on the receiving end of Maggie’s angst and worry for long enough to take her time with her reply. “Yes, but you know,” she’d finally said, gentling her voice, “this isn’t necessarily going to be a magic bullet for Ben, or for you.”
Maggie had taken another slug of Baileys. “I know,” she’d replied, but the fact remained that shewantedit to be a magic bullet, a fix-all for all that was wrong with her—and Ben’s—lives. She needed it to be that, because life had been too hard for too long, and she wasn’t sure she could keep slogging through, day by grueling day.
“So, you’re still going to do it?” Lynn had asked, sounding a mix of incredulous and resigned.
Maggie had felt as if she were teetering on the edge of an abyss, about to freefall, windmilling her arms as she hurtled through empty space—to land where? “Yes,” she’d stated firmly as she’d drained her glass. “We are.”
And so here they were, driving to Starr’s Fall, the moving truck approximately half an hour behind them. In the end, they’d taken only a handful of the furniture from the house in Greenwich—so much of it had been custom-made pieces, too big and brash for the humble apartment. Maggie had tried to rouse Ben’s enthusiasm by promising to buy some new things, but, surprise, surprise, her son hadn’t been all that interested in home decorating.
Still, Maggie herself felt a flicker of interest at the prospect. When they’d moved into that behemoth of a house back in Greenwich three years ago, she’d been given free rein, but it had all felt so overwhelming and enormous, and then Matt’s mother-in-law had swept in, insisting that Maggie could never manage such a “serious responsibility” as decorating her own home, and so she’d gone with the interior decorator her mother-in-law had recommended, and she’d agreed with every single suggestion the bossy, stick-thin woman with talon-like nails had given.
Thankfully, those days were behind her.
That thought sent a flash of guilt like a blaze of lightning through her. How could she ever,everbe glad that her life had changed? Basically, be glad that Matt wasdead, because one pretty much equaled the other. She was a horrible person for letting such a thought flit across her mind for so much as a second, no matter how challenging things had become in their marriage, and she vowed never to think that way again. Ever.
“Mom,” Ben exclaimed in exasperation, “you almost missed the turnagain.”
“Sorry, sorry.” Just like the last time, at Thanksgiving, Maggie was forced to put on the brakes before making a hard right. She let out a shaky breath and glanced at Ben with a smile. “I was distracted by thinking about everything we need to do.”
“We don’t need to do that much, do we?” Ben replied. “Just buy some games and tables and stuff. It’ll be easy.”
As if. Her son had no idea of the reams and reams of red tape that went into opening a business, especially one that offered food. The number of licenses, inspections, criterion, and guidelines she had to meet… She had a three-ring binder full of printouts of such stuff. She hadn’t looked at any of it very closely yet, but she would. Soon.
“There’s a little more to it than that,” she replied lightly, “but we’ll get there.” Eventually. Maybe. No, they would. Theywould.
Starr’s Fall was coming into view, and this time the Main Street looked like a snowy wonderland, the sidewalks heaped with the stuff, icicles dripping down from the eaves—apparently the snowplow hadn’t been through the town yet, even though it was nearly noon and the snow had fallen last night. Well, it was off the beaten track, Maggie told herself. And the snowwaspretty, even if it was already starting to melt.
“Okay.” She pulled over in front of the store, the tires squelching through the slush, and parked the car. “Here we are.” She let out a deep breath and turned to smile at Ben, and amazingly, wonderfully, he gave a small, shy smile back. It was enough to have her exclaiming, “Let’s do this!” as she slapped the steering wheel for emphasis and Ben let out a groan and rolled his eyes. Way to ruin a moment, she thought wryly. Well, she’d been there before.
Maggie got out of the car, the air cold and crisp as she stretched her arms briefly above her head and surveyed their new abode. It was a lot smaller than the imposing McMansion they’d left behind, but it was quaint and cozy and she thought she’d like living on the Main Street, everything they needed just a stroll away.
She took the key out of her pocket and unlocked the front door, stepping inside to the store. It looked just as it had six weeks ago, on Thanksgiving, only dustier and colder. She needed to figure out how to turn the heating on, and quick.
“The moving truck should be here soon,” she called to Ben. He was standing in the doorway, his backpack slung over one shoulder. “Do you want to close the door?”
“Yeah…” He hesitated, sliding his backpack from his shoulder. “By the way, I made this.”
“You made something?” Maggie turned around, smiling in surprised expectation. Her son was not a crafty person, so she was curious as well as heartened that he’d had the urge to make anything at all. He unzipped his backpack and took out a long, silvery sheet of paper. As he unfolded it, she saw it was a banner, complete with glittery writing.
Grand Opening Coming Soon! Your Turn Next Boardgame Café!
He’d even designed a little logo underneath, with a pawn, a die, and an elven figure that Maggie knew was from his beloved RainQuest.
“What do you think?” he asked, a wobble of uncertainty in his voice.
Maggie’s heart melted, expanded, and twisted all at once. “I love it,” she said firmly. “Let’s put it up right now.”
Ben’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yes! Why not?” Of course, she could answer that very easily—because she had no idea when they’d actually get this place up and running, and the thought of all the work that lay ahead of her was truly daunting. She didn’t want to make promises to the public that she couldn’t keep, but neither was she about to rain on her son’s parade. She didn’t even want todrizzle. “Let’s do it,” she said again, with the same slightly manic excitement that had had him rolling his eyes before.
“Okay, Mom, chill. Anyway, we don’t have any tape.”
