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Welcome! This week we continue with Maggie's story. Don't forget to visit the spectacular writers for Tuesday Tales. Link is at the end of this post.
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Mr. and Mrs. Roberts
jetted off to Puerto Rico for a weekend, leaving Maggie and John in charge of
little Penn. A rambunctious two-year-old, he required two to watch him. Maggie
found herself falling into the role of parent with ease. John made a fun-loving dad, which surprised her.
As a reward for giving up their weekend, The Roberts gave
them both two days off and the use of the car.
“Let’s drive to Montauk. It’s supposed to be beautiful
there. Beach, ocean, and lobster. What say, Maggie, my girl? Are you game?”
“Separate rooms?”
"Of course,” he chuckled.
“You’re on.”
John loaded the luggage into the car. She had a
tearful parting with young Penn, who threw a tantrum as she left the
house. John had to pull her away gently from the screaming child.
Once they hit the Long Island Expressway, Maggie began to
relax. It wasn’t long before there was a traffic jam.
“How about lunch?” She said.
“Lunch?”
“I packed a hamper for us. The Missus said I could.”
“I am a bit peckish. What’ve you got in there?”
“Beautiful sandwiches –black forest ham, avocado, thin
slice of tomato and the finest fresh red leaf lettuce.”
“Gads. Sounds mouth-watering.” John put the car in park
while Maggie handed him half a sandwich.
“And raspberry iced tea, too.”
“Oh, the Americans are so ignorant about tea,” John
bemoaned.
“You can say that again. But this is passable.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
They reached the small motel just before dinnertime. John
took Maggie to a clam shack by the sea.
“Tell me about your family,” she asked, dipping her clam in
the melted butter.
“I’m one of ten.”
“Ten? I thought our family was big.”
“They don’t miss me, I’m sure.”
“But your mum?”
“Mum was wonderful. But she died five years ago. My sister
Agnes has taken over running the place.”
“Do ya like her?”
He made a face. “Never a favorite of mine.”
After dinner they walked hand in hand on the beach. Maggie
hiked up her skirt and waded in the surf. John followed. A wave that didn’t
look too strong, knocked into her, throwing her down on top of John. They
laughed as the water soaked them completely.
She rolled over, her knees in the soft sand between his
legs. He snaked his arm about her waist, while his hand cupped her head. Slowly
he lowered her lips to his. On her elbows, Maggie sank down farther in the sand
until she was lying, full weight on him.
“You’re lovely,” John murmured before capturing her mouth again.
Maggie’s reserve melted in the warm, salty water. She
kissed him with enthusiasm. He helped her up. They returned to the motel to
change into dry clothes. Sharing a snifter of brandy with John in the moonlight
by the ocean, Maggie’s heart opened to the man who treated her like the Queen
of England. "A bit wasteful, payin' for two rooms, don't you think?" She asked, looking up into his eyes.
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