Maggie Bean in Love

by Tricia Rayburn

  “How do you feel about a do-over?” he asked suddenly.

  “A do-over?”

  He grinned and started across the classroom, waving for her to follow. She grabbed her folders and purse and hurried after him, turning off the light and closing the door on her way out. He stayed a few feet ahead of her as they headed down the hallway and out of the building, and didn’t stop until they were back on the school steps.

  Realizing what he was doing and happy for the chance to try again, Maggie jogged down the steps until she reached the step just below his. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she faced him. “Hi,” she said brightly, as if this were their first encounter of the day.

  “Hi, yourself,” he said with a grin.

  Maggie’s smile was so wide, she was sure she could fit quarters in her deepened dimples. Unlike their first meeting an hour ago, Arnie looked excited instead of uncertain.

  “So, I couldn’t wait to see you today.”

  “Really?” she asked, her dimples now ready for silver dollars.

  “Really.” He held out one hand, which she took. “Those caramel apples might’ve tasted like heaven on a stick, but they were definitely made by the devil. I didn’t check the calories beforehand because I didn’t want to ruin the mood, but I had to do some serious sweating after our date. You, being the lovely, delicate lady that you are, only had one caramel apple. But I, being me, had four caramel apples.”

  “And this made you want to see me today because … ?”

  He patted his stomach. “The Abdominator’s got a new move. You have to see it. It’s one part Martha Stewart, one part Kanye West, and two parts David Blaine.”

  “David Blaine?” Maggie asked, already laughing. “The street magician?”

  “Hanging upside down like a bat doesn’t burn many calories, but hanging upside down while vacuuming to some crazy hip-hop beats can really—”

  “Mags!”

  Picturing Arnie’s latest exercise made Maggie laugh so hard, it took a second to realize someone was shouting her name up the steps.

  “Maggie!”

  “Is that Aimee?” Arnie asked, peering over the top of Maggie’s head. “Has she been indulging in Sugar Plum Farm’s famous caramel apples too? Does she need the structure and support of Patrol This to help her shed those pesky pounds?”

  “She’s not here for the meeting.” Still giggling, Maggie wiped the tears from her eyes and turned toward the parking lot. “She’s taking us to Bananarama.”

  “Were your parents busy?” Arnie asked, his voice slightly concerned. “I could’ve asked Little Mom or Dad Junior to take us. Driving me around is kind of why my parents pay them more money than they have free time to spend.”

  Maggie waved to Aimee, who was leaning out of the open passenger-side window of her mother’s car like she was gasping for oxygen, and then turned back to Arnie. “Remember how I said I wanted to plan today’s date?”

  “Yes … ?”

  “Well, it has two parts. The second part is a moonlit boat ride around Mud Puddle Lake. Just us.” That was when, if all went according to plan, she would engage in Operation First Kiss. “And the first part is lively conversation and fresh fruit smoothies at Bananarama … with Aimee.”

  “Oh,” he said as his eyebrows lowered in confusion. “Okay.”

  “The first part won’t take long,” she promised, her lingering smile fading. “It’s just that things with the Water Wings got a little out of hand this week, and Aimee really wanted to talk strategy, and since I’m technically in charge of saving the swim team, I couldn’t really say no. Plus, she’s kind of going through a hard time at home, and—”

  “Maggie, it’s fine,” Arnie said.

  She tried to get his eyes to meet hers. “Are you sure?” she asked. She’d been so focused on the second part of the date that she hadn’t really thought much about meeting Aimee for the first. She and Arnie were friends too, so Maggie didn’t think he’d mind hanging out with her for a little while. But that was before their awkward meeting on the steps earlier. “If not, I can totally reschedule.”

  “Don’t reschedule. I know how important the swim team is to you.” He shrugged. “Plus, if anyone knows a thing or two about strategy, it’s the Abdominator.”

  Immediately reassured and silently vowing to make it up to him later, when they were alone, Maggie reached up and gave him a quick hug.

  “You two are cute, but love isn’t going to save the swim team,” Aimee called from the car. “Every second wasted is another signature lost!”

  Maggie bit her bottom lip to keep from smiling as Arnie saluted Aimee and started marching down the steps. She was glad she did, too, because it was clear as soon as they climbed in the car that Aimee wasn’t in a joking mood. Neither was Mrs. McDougall, who drove without speaking after her initial hello. Maggie expected Aimee to whip out notebooks and the petition right away to avoid wasting another second and losing another signature, but she simply stared straight ahead for the entire trip. Maggie would’ve preferred spending that time talking and joking with Arnie, but was afraid of fueling the fire that burned quietly in the front seat. She settled for holding his hand and sneaking him quick glances every few minutes.

  After fifteen long minutes, they pulled up in front of Bananarama.

  “Thank you for the ride, Mrs. McDougall,” Maggie said politely before sliding out of the back seat.

  “Yeah, thanks,” Arnie added, sliding out after her.

  “Later.” Aimee jumped out of the front seat and slammed the passenger side door shut.

  “Aimee, remember what we discussed.”

  Maggie stood next to Aimee as Mrs. McDougall leaned across the front seat and called out the open window.

  “I expect you home in an hour. One hour. Sixty minutes.”

  “I do remember what we discussed,” Aimee shot back coolly. “Including the fact that Maggie and I have a lot of work to do. I’ll try to be home in an hour, but I wouldn’t hold your breath. We’ll probably be here all night.”

  Maggie’s mouth fell open as Aimee spun on one heel and stomped into Bananarama, and the car sped away.

  “Sorry about that,” Aimee said as soon as Maggie and Arnie joined her at the smoothie counter inside. “You wouldn’t believe the fight we had this morning. Unreal. And she doesn’t seem to get that she’s not the only with problems, you know? I mean, fifteen girls will be devastated forever if we don’t save the swim team, and she’s worried about whether I’m home for dinner? Please.”

  “That’s awful.” Maggie tried to catch Arnie’s eye, but he was suddenly very interested in the fruity flavors lining the chalkboard overhead. “But, Aim, Arnie and I kind of have—”

  “I know.” Aimee frowned at Maggie. “You have a date. And I don’t want to get in the way of true love. If anyone has a shot at the real thing, it’s you two. But, Mags … I could really use a break. Just for tonight.”

  Maggie opened her mouth to suggest that they hang out for an hour then and maybe meet up later, after part two of Maggie’s and Arnie’s date, but Aimee turned back to the counter and started placing her order like there was nothing left to discuss. Maggie looked at Arnie again, but he was still staring intently at the chalkboard.

  Maggie felt terrible. She felt terrible for Aimee, who was obviously upset. She felt terrible for Arnie, who clearly felt like the third wheel on what should’ve been a two-wheel ride. She felt terrible that they probably weren’t going to make it to the lake, and that Operation First Kiss would be delayed. And worst of all, she felt terrible that she and Arnie were exactly where they were almost two hours before, when they stood awkwardly on the elementary school steps.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered after she and Arnie had gotten their smoothies and headed toward the table Aimee had already taken over. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”

  “No worries.” He didn’t look at her once as he dropped into a chair, sipped his smoothie, and turned the petition clipboard toward him. �
��Okay, so—swim team strategy. What do we have so far?”

  14. “Here you are, my lovely,” Maggie’s dad said, placing a ceramic mug on the coffee table. “Two teabags and one teaspoon of honey, just the way you like.”

  “Thank you, dear.” Maggie’s mom reached for the cup.

  “Do you guys want some macaroni with that cheese?” Summer teased.

  “I don’t think macaroni and cheese is really a suitable tea accompaniment,” her dad said thoughtfully. “Do you, my sweet?”

  “Cream cheese, maybe,” Maggie’s mom said, tilting her head as she pretended to consider it. “On a whole-grain bagel or watercress sandwich. But definitely not cheddar. And definitely not with elbow-shaped pasta.”

  “Although . . .” Her dad smiled at her mom. “If that was what my beautiful bride wanted, I’d whip up a batch right now.”

  “Wow. If you see our real parents, please let them know we’re ready for them to come back,” Maggie said, hiding her smile behind her computer screen. She and Summer liked to poke fun at their parents whenever they started being especially mushy together, but they also enjoyed seeing them so close. This time last year, when her dad wasn’t working and her mom was stressed about money, the biggest display of affection they shared was when her dad asked her mom to pass the salt at the dinner table. So now, even though they sometimes laid on the cheese extra thick, Maggie and Summer wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

  As her dad went to answer the telephone ringing in the kitchen, her mom cradled the mug in both hands, and Summer loaded the DVD player with that night’s Netflix pick, Maggie returned to her history report. She didn’t want to miss the family movie, but she still had a lot to do for the report, which was due the next day. The plan was to listen to Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory and comment accordingly while reviewing and organizing her notes.

  “It’s for you, Mag Pie.”

  “One second.” Maggie’s fingertips moved even faster across the keyboard as she hurried to finish her thought.

  “I can take a message,” her dad offered. “Or perhaps you’d like me to hold the phone to your ear so you can talk and type at the same time.”

  “Would you?” she asked hopefully, though she was pretty sure he was kidding.

  She pouted as he patted her head and handed her the phone.

  “What’s up, buttercup?”

  Maggie smiled instantly at the sound of Arnie’s voice. They hadn’t spoken since leaving Bananarama the day before, and she hadn’t been sure when they’d talk again, since he was spending the day with his parents at their country club. And also because she wasn’t sure if he was still unhappy about their dream team accidentally acquiring another member.

  “Buttercup? You’ve clearly been spending too much time with my parents,” she joked.

  “There’s no such thing,” her dad said. He lifted her mom’s feet from the couch so he could sit down, placed her feet in his lap, and started massaging her arches.

  “Speaking of your family,” Arnie said, “I know you’re supposed to watch a movie with them tonight, and I don’t want to interrupt your plans, but something came up that I just had to run by you.”

  “If you’re taking your David Blaine act to Vegas, I’m there.”

  “Not yet, but I appreciate the support.” He took a deep breath. “So, there’s this thing at my parents’ country club. It’s an awards ceremony, and it’s kind of a big deal—think chandeliers, tuxedoes, and enough champagne to swim in.”

  “Sounds fancy.” Maggie’s pulse quickened at what she hoped was coming.

  “It is. You know I prefer chips to caviar, but I actually like this party. There’s live music and really good food, and because of the champagne factor, even the stuffiest, crankiest adults—like Ma and Pa Gunderson—have fun.”

  “That’s great.” Maggie stared at the cursor on her computer screen and held her breath.

  “It is . . .”

  Please … please … please …, she silently pleaded with each blink of the cursor.

  “So … do you think you’d want to go?”

  “Yes.” The word burst from her mouth like helium from a balloon. Aware of her family’s curious looks, she stood up and balanced her computer carefully on one arm as she headed for the kitchen.

  “Great,” he exhaled. “I’m sorry it’s such short notice. I would’ve asked sooner, but my parents were supposed to go with another couple, and that couple just bailed, like, fifteen minutes ago. And my mom dropped a hundred dollars on each ticket and would rather have a root canal than let that money go to waste, so she asked if you and I would like to use the extra tickets.”

  “Absolutely.” Maggie sat in a chair at the kitchen table and opened her schedule spreadsheet. “And no problem about the short notice. Believe me—I’ll find time. When is it?”

  Arnie paused. “In an hour?”

  Her heart slid to her stomach. “An hour? As in, an hour tonight, and not in an hour this time tomorrow? Or next week?” A party like the one Arnie described would probably make Operation First Kiss completely unnecessary. They were sure to be so mesmerized by the romantic atmosphere as they danced to live music under a sparkly chandelier surrounded by other couples in gowns and tuxedoes that kissing would came as naturally as breathing. Plus, how could she turn him down now when he’d patiently sat through four hours of swim team strategy at Bananarama the day before?

  “I know that doesn’t give you much time,” he said.

  She frowned at her schedule. It was jam-packed until ten o’clock that night, and picked up again at six o’clock the next morning. Scrolling ahead, she saw that she wasn’t supposed to see Arnie again for three more days. That was a long time to worry about how awkward things would be on their next date.

  “Well,” she said, quickly typing “Willy Wonka recap/history report review” in the five a.m. spreadsheet square, “eight hours of sleep always seemed like a few too many to me.”

  “Awesome. My parents have to get there early because my dad’s being honored, so we’re all leaving in a few minutes, but we’ll send the limo to pick you up after it drops us off.”

  “The limo?” Maggie could see her grin growing in her reflection on the computer screen.

  “It’s going to be amazing, Mags. See you soon.”

  Maggie hung up, saved and closed the spreadsheet, and flew from the kitchen. She slowed when she entered the living room and saw the movie’s opening credits rolling on the TV, and looked away so she could try to get through this part relatively guilt-free.

  “Mom, you know what you said the other day about day-dreaming? And how I should be doing more of it?”

  “Of course.” Her mom smiled, apparently happy that Maggie had been listening.

  “You were right. I think I definitely need to daydream more. Starting tonight.”

  “Don’t they call it day dreaming for a reason?” Summer asked, nodding toward the darkening sky visible through the living room windows.

  Maggie sat on the edge of the coffee table so that she was level with her mom. “There’s a party at the Gundersons’ country club. It’s very formal and fancy, and if I go, a real limo will take me there. I know we’re supposed to watch a movie tonight, but I thought maybe I could get up when you do tomorrow morning so we can talk about what I missed over an early breakfast?”

  “Well, sure, Mag Pie … but don’t you also have a lot of homework to do?”

  “Yes.” Maggie knew her mom didn’t mention this because she worried Maggie wouldn’t finish what she needed to, but because she worried Maggie would worry about not finishing what she needed to. “But this party will be better than anything I could ever imagine myself. It’s a chance to make up for all the daydreaming I’ve missed out on so far. The homework will be there when I get back.”

  Her mom smiled at her dad, who took her mom’s hand and kissed it. “Come on, Cinderella. I have the perfect dress.”

  Maggie jumped up and she, her mom, and Summer hurried
down the hall toward her parents’ room. They talked and laughed as Maggie got ready, and by the time the limo driver rang the doorbell an hour later, she’d managed to nudge all thoughts of homework, school, and other obligations to the very back of her brain. Because she was pretty sure most princesses weren’t thinking about their history reports as they waited for their horse-and-carriages to arrive.

  At exactly seven o’clock, Maggie stepped out of the limo and onto the long walkway leading to the front doors of the Paradise Cove Country Club. She couldn’t wait to go inside and see Arnie, but standing there in her mom’s sleeveless black velvet dress with a puffy skirt and sparkly rhinestone hem, the pearl necklace Aunt Violetta had given her for her twelfth birthday, and her favorite pair of black patent leather (one-inch) heels, she felt like something big was about to happen. Something major. Something that only happened once in a person’s lifetime. She wanted to take an extra minute to memorize everything so that she would always remember the last moments leading up to the one moment that changed her life forever.

  “Wow.”

  Maggie looked away from the white lights glittering in the trees lining the walkway. She’d been so busy memorizing, she hadn’t noticed the front doors open.

  She stayed where she was as Arnie walked toward her. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she took in his black tuxedo, red bowtie, and matching vest. “Wow, yourself.” He always looked great in his regular ensemble of cargo pants and a polo shirt, but he looked so adorable dressed up, Maggie thought she might suggest that they occasionally wear formal attire just for fun.

  “You look amazing.”

  Feeling a warm flush spread across her face, Maggie looked down at the toes of her shiny black shoes. She loved Arnie’s compliments but was still getting used to them. And thanks to their current surroundings—and the fact that he looked at her almost like he was seeing her for the first time—that one made her blush particularly quickly.