The Secret Wife

“I will be. Once I get my son and get out of here.”

Maggie pushed her way through the crowd to reach Edna. Holding out her arms to David, she said, “We have to go.”

David grinned at her through a mouthful of crumbs. He clutched a sugar cookie in each hand. But he didn’t move.

“He’s being such a good little boy,” Edna crooned. Raising her chin to address Maggie, her mouth thinned. “Stay just a little longer.” It wasn’t a request.

“A few more minutes,” Maggie murmured and stepped away from the crush of people.

There was a commotion near the front door, where a beautiful blonde dabbed her eyes and accepted sympathetic hugs and handshakes. A short, stocky man followed behind her, cupping her elbow solicitously.

Turning away, Maggie suppressed a pang of longing, wishing she could find comfort in the collective embrace of Eric’s friends and relatives instead of rejection and suspicion. Maggie longed for a safe, sympathetic resting place where she could give in to the confusion and grief lodged in her chest. But after that, she feared anger would follow. Anger, betrayal and envy. Emotions she could barely admit to herself, yet they simmered beneath the surface, demanding to be heard, demanding release.

Maggie felt firm pressure on her arm.

She looked up to see J.D.

He nodded toward the baby and his grandmother. “I take it she’s not about to give him up yet? At least not without a fight?”

Nodding, Maggie fidgeted with her purse. The room seemed to close in on her. Her breathing grew shallow.

“How about if we wander over to the kitchen? I’ll come get David for you in a couple of minutes.” His voice was reassuring in the midst of her anxiety. He, at least, was somewhat familiar.

“I—”

“Please? You look like you could use a break.” He glanced toward the blonde. “None of this is Nancy’s fault. She doesn’t deserve a scene any more than you do.”

Maggie hesitated, resisting the urge to understand what the other woman might be going through, the urge to understand her own conflicting emotions. Anger rippled through Maggie. Anger at a dead man for putting her in the position of feeling sorry for Nancy. Anger that she felt obligated to hide out because of his sins.