There had been a time when Burke Devlin was Maggie's first and last customer of the day. There had been a routine: he'd sit down. She'd hold off a moment before approaching (as the days grew in number, it developed into waiting merely to antagonize playfully, rather than actually being busy). He'd give her a snide remark (again, out of friendliness as opposed to malice). He'd order (black coffee, sometimes with toast). She'd supply. There came a point when Maggie realized it was always the same, and sometimes she'd already have it prepared before the second and third steps, in which case the fourth would instead be her sliding into the chair across from him, and they'd talk about anything: the weather, the places he'd been, Collinwood.
The last one should have tipped Maggie off, she had realized later. The warning bells had gone off when he'd begun to ask her about Carolyn - then later about Miss Winters. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to her when he stopped coming in and when the rumors started flying of him trying to take out Roger Collins, of him being seen on the town with that pretty young blonde girl. But it did. It surprised her and disappointed her and angered her and she didn't understand. How could she have been fooled? Neither of them had been confidantes, as Maggie had suspected. Instead, she'd been some kind of turncoat. A backstabber and a rat. Her blabbermouth had gotten her into trouble before, but there had been nothing intentional about this.
So when Burke quietly makes his way into the Collinsport Inn diner early one morning, Maggie's at a standstill. Her mind goes blank and it's all she can do not to blatantly stare at him over the counter. He doesn't look at her, instead sliding into a booth by the window. Step one: check.
Should she help him? Should she leave him to Susie? She thinks his head turns in her direction and she busies herself with her notepad. 'He's a customer,' she thinks, but that doesn't stop her hands from shaking as she prepares his coffee and shoves two slices of white bread into the toaster. She wants to hurry and get it over with, but she takes her time. Step two: check.
But there's no snide comment as Maggie softly places the cup and plate down on his table. Burke turns and, in fact, it's as though he's seeing her for the first time - and it's the first time she's seen him like this. He looks like he hasn't slept in a week and his suit isn't pressed and his hair's a mess and instantly, she's worried.
"It's been a while, hasn't it, Maggie?" he says. He smiles, but there's a raspy weakness in his voice that betrays any happiness that he wants to show off. Maggie smiles gently in return, and she nods.
She hesitates, but before she knows it, she's smoothing her skirt down behind her and sitting down in the booth across from him.
"It's a good thing i've got time, then," she replies.