Read Online More Than Allies by Sandra Scofield - Free Book Online Page A

Polly was writing out bills. Maggie had already had breakfast with her, and fed Stevie, and was finding it difficult to keep from brooding about Mo’s phone call. She was relieved when Polly said she had to dig some things out of the garage to get ready for the new baby.
    Polly brought in an old crib, and Maggie scrubbed it while Polly went off for a tin of paint. They moved it out onto the patio and painted it white with a turquoise trim. In a burst of creativity, Maggie drew tiny flowers on the headboard. She could feel Polly’s pleasure and excitement building. Babies.
    â€œWhat do you know about the baby?” she asked her.
    Polly said she was the child of an addicted mother, and wasn’t going to be easy at first. Maggie chewed on her lip. She could see it now: Polly rocking and walking an infant, Gretchen pouting and playing poor-me recluse, Maggie and her kids suddenly odd ones out. Polly was humming to herself. The sunshine gleamed on her short black hair. “Kendra,” she said.
    Jay wandered out, still in his pj’s, rubbing his eyes. He went straight to Polly for a hug, glowering at his mother. Maggie felt a twinge of envy and hurt. “How about a real breakfast now?” she asked, trying to sound cheerful. She had read somewhere that if you refused to let your child cloud your spirits, he learned—what? She couldn’t remember, and she couldn’t imagine. She felt what he felt, not the other way around. He clung to Polly, who extricated herself and patted him on the back. “I’ve got a little more to do here, Jay-Jay, but you could fry some bacon if you like.” Jay looked at his mother, his chin up.
    â€œI’ll make some cinnamon toast,” Maggie said. “Stevie loves it.” Stevie, hearing her name, ran across the patio and flung herself at Maggie.
    Sometimes children are like great huge sacks of flour to be lugged and handled and lifted and kept. Sometimes Maggie would like to close her eyes and think there was nobody out there who needed her.
    â€œI like it too,” Jay said.
    â€œThen why don’t you help me make it?” Surely they could manage that. Making a mess was always therapeutic.
    After breakfast they played a board game, Space Agents. It was the simplest of games—roll the dice and move—but he loved it. He thought being an astronaut was a real possibility. They played until Maggie’s space ship got ahead of Jay’s for the third time and he accused her of cheating.
    â€œCheating!” She couldn’t believe the anger that flashed in his eyes. “I rolled the dice and counted the moves, you watched me all the time.” She didn’t know why she was arguing with him. His anger had nothing to do with Space Agents. She felt a nauseating wave of helplessness. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do to make him feel better. What was so terrible, anyway? She doubted half the kids in his school lived with both parents. It wasn’t like his dad was dead.
    They exchanged more words, silly words between a child and his mother, and then Jay stood up abruptly and tipped the board off the ottoman and sent the pieces flying onto the floor. When he saw what he had done, he squeezed his eyes into ugly slits. “I hate Space Agents!” he cried. “It’s a boring baby game.”
    Stevie was grabbing pieces in her little fists, and Maggie was trying to watch that she didn’t eat them or toss them under furniture. She wasn’t really looking at Jay.
    Jay kicked at the board, and though his kick didn’t hurt anything, it scared Stevie and made her howl, and shocked Maggie, who lunged for him and barely caught his sleeve, then lost it as he turned. He ran down the hall and slammed the bedroom door behind him.
    Polly was standing in the kitchen doorway. Maggie began crying, which escalated Stevie’s distress. Polly came over and sat down on the floor beside the baby. “There,