Page 55 of Playing for Keeps in Starr's Fall
“There is when it’s solely to make people like you.” Now he sounded as if he were full of self-loathing. “And frankly I think I’ve been in that mode for way too long.”
She sat back, trying to digest everything he’d said. “When you said you’d done all the heavy lifting…” she began, and Zach gave a twitchy shrug.
“I’m not saying you should have done more, Maggie. Let’s be honest, we didn’t know each other that well, and I recognize that you and Ben have gone through a hard time, harder than I even realized, and so you were in a different kind of place. It’s just… when you came into the barn and threw everything at me that everyone in this stupid town has insisted on believing for years, and you didn’t evenaskme, just bought into all the assumptions, even knowing how I felt about it all, because I’dtoldyou…” His voice cracked, and Maggie had to close her eyes. When he put it like that, it made her realize, so wretchedly, how much she must have hurt him.
“I really am sorry,” she whispered as she felt the hot press of tears against her closed lids. “So sorry, Zach.”
“I know. And I am, too.” Zach drew a quick, steadying breath. “But I’m done with proving myself to anyone anymore—to you, to my sister, to all of Starr’s Fall. That’s not who I want to be now.”
“Zach…” Maggie knew she needed to be as honest as he had been, even though it felt like sticking pins in her eyes, every single word sharp and painful. “I threw all those accusations at you as an excuse,” she told him, her voice wobbling all over the place. “I was scared. Scared of being in a relationship, of being vulnerable, offeelingso much…” She stumbled over the words, longing for him to understand. “Just scared in general. I didn’t mean any of what I said to you, I promise. It was just the fear talking.”
“I understand that.” For a second, as he looked at her, Maggie felt the wild lurch of hope that maybe it was going to be all right. His lips curved into a small smile, and he even leaned forward a little, and she did too, almost as if they might kiss. She wanted to, felt that desire flooding her senses, making her yearn, and she thought Zach did, too…
Then he sighed and sat back. “But I’m not sure it really matters at this point, Maggie. I’m sorry, but…” He shook his head. “I just can’t. Not now. Not till I figure out who I am, what I’m doing with my life.”
Maggie nodded her understanding, even though she felt cut to the heart. She’d just bared her soul, and he’d said it was a moot point. “Like I said,” he continued resignedly, “it’s more me than you.” He paused before adding, “Although I will say you should have told me how vulnerable Ben was, considering how much time I was spending with him—for his sake, not mine. If I’d known he’d been hospitalized for asuicideattempt… well, that’s something I would have taken very seriously.” He gave her a meaningful look that made her feel about two inches tall.
“I know I should have,” she whispered. “Zach…” Her voice broke, and he reached out and tucked that single white streak of hair behind her ear.
“I still think you’re amazing,” he told her in a husky voice. “And gorgeous. And sexy.” Maggie had to close her eyes to keep a tear from slipping down her cheek. She wasn’t going to beg, but oh, shewantedto. Zach leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her cheek, his lips soft and cool as she inhaled the woodsy scent of him, and it made her ache all the more.
Then he leaned back and opened the car door. “Come on. The pizza will be cold.”
Maggie didn’t think she could have felt any more miserable as she followed him into Slice of Heaven. She could have dealt with his anger, she thought, or even his hurt; she could have survived a painfully honest conversation, if only it hadledsomewhere. But this felt like the dead end of all dead ends; there was no way forward, not just because of her, but because of him.
They’d only kissed twice, but it had felt like the beginning of everything. And it was only now that it was all over before it had really started that she realized not just how much she missed it, but how much she needed him. Zach Miller had been the best thing about her life in Starr’s Fall, and she’d gone and completely ruined any chance they might have had together.
19
“Do you have Scrabble in this establishment?”
Maggie blinked in surprise at the sight of Henrietta Starr in the doorway of her café. She was dressed magnificently in a tweed skirt suit, a moth-eaten fox fur, head intact, draped around her bony shoulders, and a broad-brimmed hat trimmed with ostrich feathers perched on top of her head. Clearly she’d made something of an effort.
“Yes, we do have Scrabble,” she replied warmly. “It’s so nice to see you again, Miss Starr. Would you like to sit down? I can get you the game?—”
“My dear,” Henrietta Starr replied haughtily, “if you know the game at all, you must realize one cannot play Scrabble by oneself.”
“That’s true,” Maggie acknowledged. Ben was upstairs doing his schoolwork, and she was alone in the café. Was the town’s matriarch implying she wanted to play Scrabble withher?
Henrietta arched one thin, silver eyebrow. “Do you play?” she demanded.
“Er… I know how,” Maggie replied. Scrabble was one of the few games she’d known how to play before opening the café, although not many had asked to play it. Over the last few weeks, while they hadn’t had the flood of the customers they’d experienced on the first day, they’d still had a steady stream of gamers coming through the doors—families, teens, older couples, little kids. Your Turn Next had become something of a gathering point for the community, for which Maggie was very grateful.
“Would you like me to play with you?” she asked Henrietta, who sniffed in response.
“If youmust, I suppose,” she replied on an aggrieved sigh, “but by all means, please don’t put yourself out on my account.”
Maggie choked back a startled laugh. Laurie had warned her about Henrietta Starr’s acerbic manner, but it was another thing to experience it herself. “I’d love to play,” she stated firmly, and went to get the game.
Over the last month, she’d been doing her utmost to say yes to just about everything. Yes to bringing library books to Barb Lyman and chatting with Annie; yes to helping out with the spring festival that Starr’s Fall Business Association was putting on; yes to her mother-in-law’s surprising request to visit Ben next weekend; yes to finally getting in touch with some old college friends; and yes to playing Scrabble with ornery old ladies.
For too long she’d been hiding behind her grief and guilt, saying no to the world and everything in it because it had been easier. Safer, too, and ultimately more selfish. Her harsh words to Zach might have been a wake-up call to him, but his to her had been one, too, no matter what he’d said about it being him, not her.Mostly.
What Maggie knew was that she never wanted to be accused of not doing the heavy lifting inanyrelationship again. She didn’t want to stew in the juices of her own emotions and not consider other people’s, especially people she cared about, like Ben, or Lynn, or yes, Zach. Even if he’d chosen not to care about her. Accepting all that had been a bitter pill to swallow, but then most medicine was. And like most medicine, what Zach had said to her had been needed. She’d needed someone to shake her out of her determined stupor.
She and Zach had reached something of an equilibrium over the last month that Maggie accepted without truly enjoying. He played RainQuest online with Ben some evenings, and he came around to the café a couple of times a week, often for no more than a brief, friendly check-in, the same as Joshua Reed or Zoe Wilkinson would do, a quick hello, a swift smile, a perusal of the games, a teasing remark about her espresso-making skills. It hurt, the quickness of that smile that never reached his eyes, the friendliness that felt anodyne, but she understood it. Sort of, anyway.
Several weeks ago, he’d told her, in a matter-of-fact way that did not invite either questions or judgment, that he’d moved out from his parents’ house and was renting a little log cabin on the edge of town, near the waterfall that had given Starr’s Fall its name. He’d reduced his hours at the store and was considering some other options, although Maggie didn’t know what those were, and, judging from his careful tone, she hadn’t felt she could ask. Zach was clearly figuring himself out, and she knew she needed to let him do it.
