The Happiest Season

by Rosemarie Naramore

  Maggie shook her head, unable to look at it any longer. She turned and walked into the house.

  John followed soon after, and found her on her hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor with a vengeance. She’d already mopped, but needed to exert some energy, to tamp down her anger.

  “It looks pretty good,” he said softly. “The floor, I mean. The lawn…” He gave a sigh. “Not so much.”

  Maggie glanced up and met his gaze. He didn’t miss the single tear that ran down her right cheek.

  “Oh, Maggie, I’m sorry,” he groaned, as he crossed the distance between them and gently took her arm. He helped her to stand, and then, to her surprise, pulled her into a hug. “It’s going to be all right,” he soothed. “I’ll call the animals’ owner, and then the pastor at the church, if need be. We’ll get this settled. It’s going to be all right.”

  Her first impulse was to pull away from him. She hadn’t been this physically close to a man since Shane. She told herself she didn’t want another man’s arms around her, but… It felt so … good. That simply didn’t compute. Only Shane’s arms around her felt right. She felt traitorous, as if she were betraying her beloved husband. A sob escaped her lips.

  John had no way of knowing she was grappling with her conscience, and pulled her closer. She felt his warmth, the beating of his heart against her ear, the strength of his arms around her…

  With a sigh, she surrendered to him, letting him hold her and likewise, hold her up. If only for a few brief moments, she was going to relinquish the stalwart control that had enabled her to cope during the months and now years, since Shane’s passing.

  Finally, finally, she pulled away from John and forced a tremulous smile. “I’m sorry, but… Thank you for… Well, you know.”

  She turned away from him then, to regain her composure. He seemed to understand she needed a moment, since he didn’t make a move, or speak.

  When she turned toward him again, he sensed that she had regained control. “I’ll call the owner of the donkey,” she said. “You’ve already done enough.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll take care of it,” he said firmly. “It’s one thing for a single animal to escape from the field, but a second… No. This needs to stop. I’ll call him now, but I also intend to stop by and speak with him Tuesday, when I get back to work.”

  Maggie nodded. She understood what he was saying. If those animals ended up in the wrong yard, there was no telling what might happen. If a person happened to be out and one of the animals startled, either the person or animal could end up badly hurt.

  John pulled his cell phone from his pocket and with a nod, stepped out back. Maggie discreetly watched him as he dialed a number, spoke briefly, hung up, and then dialed again. She watched as he paced the lawn, kicking at a clod of dirt or two, his expression hard and unyielding. She could see he was speaking harshly, but eventually, his expression changed. Was she wrong, or did she see resignation on his face? He walked back into the house.

  Maggie gave him a questioning look. “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen,” he said. “I’m going to go over to the nursery on fifth, purchase the sod and lay it, and the animals’ owner is going to reimburse me. We’ll just have to be sure to keep all our receipts.”

  Maggie’s jaw dropped. How did her problem and the animals’ owner’s problem become John’s problem? She shook her head, her expression now unyielding. “Uh uh. No. None of this is your responsibility. You’ve already re-sided my house. I’m not going to let you replant my lawn.” She shook her head again. “No way. You have a life of your own, for Pete’s sake. You have a job. This is your day off! You are not going to spend your day off worrying about my backyard.”

  She took a breath, but barely skipped a beat when she began speaking again. “You’re going to rue the day you met me, that’s for sure,” she said, nodding her head up and down in measured intervals. “You’re going to wish you’d never laid eyes on Maggie Dulane. This is too much, John! Run away! I would if I could!” She abruptly threw her hands in the air and let out a frustrated cry. When she dropped her arms to her side, John saw her shoulders droop again.

  It broke his heart to see her looking so defeated. He didn’t know her well, but he knew she’d been through a lot. He wanted to ease her burdens—for reasons he could not yet fathom.

  He took a step closer to her, tentatively, cautiously, as if fearful she might startle. He drew closer and took her in his arms again. “Let me help you,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Why?” she whispered back.

  He couldn’t answer her—could not give her a satisfactory answer, but he knew, just knew, he was exactly where he was supposed to be at this moment in time. “Because I want to,” he whispered back.

  ***

  “John!” Rickey cried. “You came!”

  Rickey had just awakened and ambled down the stairs and into the family room. John was currently sitting on the couch, holding Pocomo, and waiting for Maggie to freshen up and return.

  “Where’s Mama?” Rickey asked sleepily.

  “She’s upstairs,” he told him. “She’ll be right back.”

  As if on cue, Maggie walked down the stairs. “Honey, run upstairs and get dressed,” she told her son.

  “Are we going somewhere?” he asked.

  “We’re going to the nursery,” John told him.

  “Are we getting a baby?” Rickey asked excitedly.

  John bit back a chuckle. “No, we’re going to buy new grass for the backyard.”

  “From a hospital?” Rickey asked, puzzled.

  Maggie sent a glance at John, who smiled at the confused little boy.

  “You know what, let’s go upstairs and I’ll explain,” Maggie said, taking his hand and leading him back upstairs.

  They soon returned to the family room, dressed and ready to go.

  “I’m hungry,” Rickey declared, and Maggie gasped. She had nearly forgotten to feed her child.

  “I imagine you are, sweetie.”

  “Would you both like to go out for lunch?” John asked.

  Maggie turned toward him, her features surprised.

  He gave a shrug. “I’m hungry too.”

  “Please, Mama! Please!”

  She glanced between John and Rickey, noting both watched her with hopeful anticipation. How could she say ‘no’ to them?

  They apparently sensed her resolve crumble, since John sprang from the sofa. “Lunch it is,” he said.

  “Lunch it is,” Maggie parroted, giving him a rueful glance. She raised her pointer finger, requesting a moment. She hurried to pull a breakfast bar out of the pantry, since it was nearly lunch time and Rickey hadn’t eaten anything yet.

  “Ah, Mama,” he protested.

  “Eat half,” she told him. “You have to have a little something to tide you over until lunch.”

  He broke it in half and walked over to John. He gave him the other half. “It will tide you over until lunch.”

  John ate the bar in two bites and nodded his gratitude. Rickey followed suit, eating the bar in quick bites. “Are you ready then?” John asked.

  “Yep!” Rickey cried enthusiastically.

  “Would you like me to drive?” Maggie asked, but immediately remembered she couldn’t very well haul much sod in her wagon. “Oh,” she said chuckling. “I guess that won’t work very well at the nursery.”

  “Probably not,” John acknowledged.

  “I’ll chip in for gas,” she said, but he shook his head.

  “Not necessary. Shall we go?”

  “I’ll get Rickey’s booster seat and meet you at the truck.” She hurried off, but found the men waiting for her return. John relieved her of the booster seat. She smiled her thanks, having grown unaccustomed to having a man lighten her load—both literally and figuratively.

  Inside John’s big truck, Rickey grinned with delight as they pulled away from the curb. “Where are we going for lunch?” he asked.

  “What sounds good to y
ou?” John asked him, turning toward him briefly.

  “Chuck E. Cheese’s,” he answered, without a second’s hesitation.

  John leaned forward and glanced around him, meeting Maggie’s eyes. He gave a shrug, as if it was all right with him. She gave a brisk shake of her head, and then turned to her son. “Not today, honey,” she said. “I have a headache and don’t think I could handle all the noise.”

  John watched her with concern. He hoped she was feeling up to going out, and that he hadn’t been too pushy. “Somewhere quiet then,” he mused aloud, and then declared, “I know just the place.”

  Maggie was surprised when she soon found herself sitting beside her son, and across from John, at a window table at one of the town’s premiere waterfront restaurants. Although the place was bustling with patrons, the noise level was comfortable and they could easily hear one another talking.

  “This is really nice,” Maggie said, smiling her gratitude.

  He nodded. “I thought it would be a nice compromise. Rickey won’t be able to interact with a giant mouse, but he will be able to watch the boats sail and motor by.”

  “I like boats!” Rickey said agreeably. He pointed out a particularly opulent yacht. “I want that one!”

  “You and me both,” John said, smiling.

  “Which one do you want, Mama?” Rickey asked.

  Maggie stared out over the water, considering each and every one. She finally pointed to a particularly small boat, which was clearly old. Its seaworthiness was questionable, based upon the burst of smoke coming off the prop.

  Even Rickey recognized it wasn’t a very nice boat. “Why do you want that one, Mama?”

  She gave a shrug and said, “I’m realistic. It’s the only one I can afford—maybe.”

  John laughed. “I’m afraid Rickey and I have pretty lofty goals when it comes to boat ownership.”

  Maggie pointed to the tiny boat she’d selected, and then to a much larger vessel. “That’s a boat, and that’s—a yacht.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “But I still want my yacht.”

  “And I wish you all the best in acquiring one,” she told him, laughing.

  “What kind of a car do you want, Mama?” Rickey asked.

  She settled comfortably in her chair and turned toward him. “I’m happy with the car I have.”

  “But it’s a station wagon!” he cried, as if it were repugnant.

  She gave him a surprised glance. “And what’s wrong with a station wagon?” she asked him, her expression concerned. “Did someone you know have something negative to say about my reliable, old wagon?”

  He heard a scolding tone in her voice and dropped his head. “My friends at school said mean things about it.”

  She draped her arm over his shoulders. “Well, we’re not going to worry about what our friends have to say about our wagon, are we? She gets us where we need to go, doesn’t she?”

  “Yeah,” he said, glancing up to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry, Mama. Our car is good.”

  She nodded and kissed his forehead. “Let’s look at the boats some more.”

  He perked right up and began watching the boats again. He soon became entranced by the waves, which increased when a particularly large boat drew past.

  “Look how big the waves are, John!” he cried.

  John nodded and pointed out the wake of a particularly large boat. “Rickey, do you see that sort of trail in the water, behind that boat?”

  He nodded.

  “It’s called a wake.”

  “A bigger boat makes a bigger wake, huh?”

  “You’re absolutely right,” he said, and then glanced at the waitress who approached to take their orders.

  The young woman turned to Maggie first. “May I take your food order?” she asked.

  “I think I’ll have the soup and half-sandwich special,” she told her, and Rickey will have the kid’s meal—a grilled cheese sandwich and apple slices.”

  The waitress nodded and turned to John. He gave Maggie a brief look, smiled, and placed his order—the same as she had ordered.

  The waitress gathered up the menus and stepped away.

  John turned his attention back to Maggie and opened his mouth to speak. He thought better of it and clamped his mouth closed. He’d nearly told her she could have ordered anything on the menu, but decided against it. He’d read the uncertainty in her eyes as she had looked over the menu. He suspected she’d been struggling with her food selection, unsure if he was paying, or if she would be. And if he was paying, he knew she wouldn’t want to order something expensive. He sensed she was both frugal, and thoughtful, and her reticence pulled at his heartstrings.

  Kim hadn’t worried an iota if she put them in the poor house. She had to have the best of everything, ranting and raving until he caved in and went along with her. Saying ‘no’ meant days of fierce fighting, followed by the silent treatment, followed by him caving, followed by her disingenuous thanks after. As long as she’d gotten her way, everything was fine. If she didn’t, it meant living in a warzone until she was eventually placated.

  What the heck had he been thinking?—allowing her to get away with her juvenile behavior. Why had he stayed the course for so long, with a spoiled prima donna? What had possessed him to choose her in the first place?

  Well, in reality, she had chosen him, and he had gone along for the ride. And it had been a bumpy one, to say the least.

  As his eyes passed over Maggie’s face, he realized something—that this woman was nothing like Kim. She made the best of what she had and was grateful for the blessings in her life. He had no doubt she and her husband had been a team, working together to achieve shared goals. What must that be like? he wondered.

  Maggie shifted uncomfortably, when she realized he was watching her with a kind of intensity she hadn’t seen in anyone’s eyes for some time. He wasn’t watching her with … desire, but with a sort of… Was it admiration? She felt her cheeks heat up. Having a man look at her at all caused her to flush.

  He appeared to register that she noticed him watching her, and he gave his head a swift shake. Suddenly, his cheeks flooded with color. He knew he needed to say something, to explain his behavior. “I’m sorry,” he said, embarrassed. “I was just thinking…”

  She nodded, urging him to continue.

  He smiled and scrubbed a nervous hand across his jaw. “I was just thinking it’s commendable how grateful you are for what you have.”

  She nodded. “It may look like I don’t have much but…”

  “No!” he cut in, his eyes widened with alarm. “That’s not what I meant at all.” He looked sick, as the color fled his face. “I meant that...” He sighed and met her gaze full on. “I meant to say, you have … everything.”

  She met his intense gaze and smiled. She turned to her son, and back to him. “You’re right. I’m blessed.”

  When the waitress returned with their food orders, Maggie could read the relief on John’s face. Her heart went out to him. She knew he feared he’d said the wrong thing, but she’d seen the admiration in his eyes. She knew he hadn’t been diminishing her in any way.

  She reached across the table and gave him a reassuring pat on his arm. He met her eyes, and then appeared to exhale with relief. She gave a shoring nod, and he nodded in return.

  And then it hit her… She and John could somehow communicate without words. That realization struck her as significant—meaningful. She hadn’t had that sort of ease of communicating with anyone but Shane.

  What did it mean?

  Chapter Eight

  Rickey tugged John across the parking lot and toward the entrance to the nursery. “Hurry up,” he said. “I want to see sod.”

  John frowned as a worrisome thought came to mind. Could you buy sod in December? He turned to Maggie, who was walking briskly, in order to keep up. “Can you buy sod in December?” he asked, his facial expression perplexed.

  She shrugged. “I … think so.” She chuckled une
asily. “Well, we’ll find out soon enough.”

  He conceded the point with a nod and then an exaggerated wince, which prompted her to chuckle again.

  Inside the store, he strode purposely toward the customer service counter. The young woman who was manning the counter looked up with a smile. “May I help you?”

  “Uh, yes,” John said. “Do you know if you can lay sod at this time of the year?”

  She smiled brightly and said, “Let’s find out.” She picked up a phone and dialed, and then spoke into the receiver. “Would you mind coming to the front counter? We have a guest with a question for you.” She hung up and smiled reassuringly. “Help is on the way.”

  He nodded and they stepped away from the counter, to allow another guest to approach. “I really hope it’s not too cold to lay sod,” John told Maggie. “It may be,” he added worriedly.

  A man soon arrived and the counter girl nodded toward the group. He approached with a smile. “How can I help you folks?”

  John was first to speak. “Do you know if it’s too late in the fall to lay sod?” he asked. “With winter only a couple weeks away…?”

  The man nodded, apparently reading his concern. “Well, the truth is, it is late in the season. Typically, it’s best to lay sod in the spring or early fall, but…” He gave them a questioning look. “Are you unable to wait until spring? Are there extenuating circumstances? ”

  Maggie answered with a chagrined smile, “Well, up until last night, I had a beautiful lawn, but unfortunately, a donkey showed up in my yard and tore it up.”

  The man gave her a look that suggested he thought she might be a tool short of a box.

  John raised his right hand. “It’s true. A donkey messed up her lawn.”

  “Okaaaayyy,” the man said. “Well, as I was saying…” He laughed and gave a dismissive wave. “It sounds as if you have those extenuating circumstances I was referring to.” He gestured for them to follow him. “Fortunately, we are having a relatively mild season…”

  He led them to the back of the store, and outside to a fenced-in area, where nursery and lawn items were kept. There were few items displayed outside at this time of the year, but they did spy a stack of sod carpets near the back.