A gentle rain the night before gave way to an absolutely perfect morning. It not only seemed to wash away the Indian summer humidity, but the tension that lingered in the kitchen as well. Conversation between Maggie and her parents picked up on a pleasant note, as if nothing had happened at all. She never ceased to be amazed at how the West family had raised emotional suppression to an art form.
In truth, there was little time or space for tension, as the celebration happening in Springfield’s Snyder Park that day required mental energy and physical stamina. Family upon family descended on the designated area, with children, pets and picnic paraphernalia spilling out of every car, minivan and sport utility vehicle.
As Maggie and her parents unloaded their car, Joe pulled in with his mother, Sissy and the children in tow. The car barely came to a stop before the twins and Gwen burst from its confines. “Aunt Maggie!” they cried out in unison.
“Hey,” she responded, her arms open wide with genuine joy.
“Whoa,” Joe scolded. “Don’t knock her down, guys…calm down.” His words fell on deaf ears as Maggie reveled in the love of her best friend’s children.
“Nice to know they listen to their father,” he said sarcastically as he placed a large cooler on a picnic table.
“Everyone knows when Maggie’s here, every other adult ceases to exist,” said Sissy.
“Not when it comes to their Gramma,” Elise said wryly. “They always perk up when I’m around.”
“That’s because you threaten to cut them out of your will if they don’t,” Joe said.
“Whatever works.”
Maggie broke free from the children’s clutches to attempt to help Joe with his setup. Giving Mary Margaret a playful swat on the backside as she shooed them all toward the other playing children, she joked, “You wanna know the secret? It’s because I’m the cool one.”
“Fine,” Joe said. “You wanna raise them?”
“Nope,” she said with a sly smile. “That’s why I’m the cool one. I spoil ‘em, hop ‘em up on sugar…then send ‘em right back to you.”
“Thanks so much for that, by the way.”
“Don’t mention it,” Maggie said as she examined the various deli containers Joe had brought with him. “Wow. I can see you worked hard in the kitchen last night.”
“Did you honestly think I’d subject anyone to my cooking?” he asked.
“Ah, yes. Good point,” Maggie said.
“And that is why, on the 8th day, God created the deli department,” Joe returned.
“And it was good,” Maggie cracked.
“Can I get an amen?” Joe said, waiving his hands in the air. Maggie winced at how silly he sounded and the two of them shared a laugh.
Joe continued his unpacking for a few moments before pausing to watch Maggie with a studied expression.
“What?” She asked, slightly uncomfortable at the scrutiny.
“No, I’m sorry - it’s just…well, you look really great today.”
The compliment caught her completely off guard. Somehow, she managed to mutter a soft “Um…thank you,” as Joe continued his assessment in earnest.
“Yeah, I don’t know if it’s the shade of purple in your sweater or how you’re doing your hair…” He caught himself mid-sentence. “Oh, not that you don’t look great every time I see you…I mean…”
A moment of awkwardness passed into silence as he tried to regain his footing.
“You just look pretty today. I’ve always liked the different ways you style your hair. But today, well…it’s…almost too pretty for a picnic.”
The combination of sweetness and clumsiness with which Joe spoke felt like pure gold to Maggie, particularly in the light of how her father had chided her the night before. It wasn’t anything elaborate; she simply softened her natural curl, fastened her hair at the crown with a barrette that allowed it to spill prettily down in back around the shoulder. But it created a youthful effect that gave her face a lovely frame.
And for the first time in her life, Maggie West actually thought she felt herself blush.
Her manner grew somewhat timid as she reached back to touch it. “Well…I, um…” she laughed a little before finally managing to say “Thanks, Joe.”
“Yeah, yeah. Sure.” Staring a bit longer than he’d intended, Joe quickly resumed his activity. Shaking his head, he laughed at the wave of shyness he suddenly felt.
Lenore observed everything, yet said nothing. She did, however, reach over to give her daughter a kiss on the cheek. Maggie gave her mother an inquisitive look.
“Oh, baby,” Lenore said sweetly. “That was ‘just because.’”
Although she was out of earshot playing with the children, Sissy envied and marveled at the breezy repartee between Maggie and Joe. There was a palpable cohesion between the two of them that had obviously developed over time.
As Joe grabbed some plates to feed the twins, he noticed that Maggie had already seen about them and was well into chiding Matty for ignoring his cucumber broccoli salad.
As he walked by, Joe gave her a good-humored nudge with his elbow. “Thanks, lady,” he said with a wink.
“Habit,” she said shyly. Once again, her cheeks felt flush. It was starting to confuse and frustrate her. Okay, what is up with this blushing, girl? Snap out of it!
Regaining her composure, she said, “This is me doing the spoiling thing, remember? You now officially have some time off, so enjoy it.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Now go, before ol’ Ralph Harris over there takes all that three bean salad you inexplicably love so much.”
“Yes ma’am,” he said.
Turning his attention to Ralph, he yelled, “Dude, back away from the three bean. I’m not gonna be as nice as I was last year and let you eat it all. I don’t care if you are 75. I’ll wrestle ya down, bro!”
Scattered laughter followed as Ralph put down his plate to clench his small, weathered fists into a fighting stance. Joe turned and gave Maggie a warm smile and made his way over to embrace the older gentleman.
This time, it was Maggie who found her gaze lingering.
Conversation and laughter abounded throughout the meal. Trying in vain to engage themselves in the chatter, Maggie and Joe spent more time stealing glances at one another than they did eating.
As Maggie took her opportunity to observe, she found Joe staring directly at her with his trademark intensity. The shock of their eyes meeting caused Maggie to fumble her drink, spilling it across the table. While she and several others scrambled for paper towels and napkins, Joe looked down at his plate and smiled to himself.
“I can tell who’s not gonna be first pick for the volley ball game,” someone yelled.
“Hardy har har,” Maggie said, masking her inner humiliation.
By this time, it wasn’t just Lenore who took note and watched with interest.
Elise walked behind her son and tugged on a lock of his hair. “Ow!” He said, as he turned around. “Ma, what are you doing?” he asked.
“That’s a question I should be asking you, my boy,” she said.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Elise raised an eyebrow in doubt before giving him a knowing smile and walking away.
“Get a haircut,” he heard her say over her shoulder. Joe chuckled, shook his head and shoved a forkful of food in his mouth while returning his attention to whatever it was Maggie was doing.
“Okay everybody,” Dexter announced. “Matt and I are going to start putting our teams together. The volleyball game begins at 4.”
In keeping with the friendly rivalry between Matthew and Dexter, the volleyball game was every bit as anticipated as the cookout. During the course of the meal, the two patriarchs would steal away and begin their negotiations, assembling their teams. Once everyone had a chance to rest up from the meal, the game would begin.
One might be led to believe that for all of the strategizing that went into putting such a sporting event together, the competition would be fierce and furious.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
“Keystone cops have more coordination,” Elise was once heard to say.
This year’s game was no exception. More time was spent laughing at the various blunders that occurred than was spent in actual play.
Maggie took her turn to serve. “Careful, butterfingers,” someone yelled from the opposing team. Maggie stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry.
In a move that surprised everyone, the ball flew with such force and accuracy that it caused Sissy and the woman next to her to shriek and move out of its line of fire. The ball hit the ground, giving Maggie her first point of the game.
“Ladies, the trick is to actually return the ball,” yelled Matthew to the women, who by this time were folded over, laughing at their own cowardice. “The ball is your friend,” he said to them. “Come on, say it with me…”
“Looks like right now, the ball is Maggie’s friend,” someone else called out.
“Nice job, Mag!”
“Yeah, do it again!”
“Don’t count on it,” Maggie said.
“That last one was a total fluke!”
Joe positioned himself in the center of the middle row. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he felt that earlier wave of warm emotion wash over him as Maggie prepared to serve again. The childlike expression she made as she wrinkled her nose in concentration was quite endearing to him.
“Maggie,” her father called out. “You can serve the ball any time before the day is over!”
A series of pictures began to flash rapidly through Joe’s mind…and they all involved Maggie. All of the ways she’d come through for him; calling or stopping by with a kind word, cup of coffee or some creative invention from her kitchen. the way she loved his kids, that afternoon she spent with him when he had completely lost control over Grace’s death.
Through the good, the bad, the ugly and the challenging, Maggie was always there. There was no notice too short it seemed, for her to sweep in and be the hero in his world.
It was more than simple gratitude. Something else had crept up from the basement of his spirit that had been developing for some time. It was only at that very moment that it began to take shape and demand to be recognized. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped in amazement.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he said softly.
Just then, he felt a sharp pain in the center of his forehead, causing him to lose his footing. He felt himself falling to the ground.
Maggie’s serve had hit him directly between the eyes and knocked him squarely on his backside.
Following a collective gasp, there was an avalanche of laughter and applause. Elise, who had been sitting next to Janice Hammond, reached over and patted the back of the younger woman’s hand.
“Yeah, I get a feeling of pride every single time he plays, don’t you?” Elise said sarcastically, as Janice wiped the tears of laughter from her own eyes.
“Good going, son!” Janice called out as a few rushed to Joe’s aid.
“Way to shine, Buchanan,” another person said.
“I think that’s the game,” said Matthew. “Congratulations, Dexter. Could somebody get a stretcher for ol’ Rip Van Winkle?” he said, referring to Joe.
Sissy was first on the scene. Her desire to lend a hand seemed to border on the over-exuberant. Her help not truly helping, Joe managed to scramble to his feet on his own.
“It’s okay, Sis, I’ve got it, thanks,” he said, brushing himself off.
“You’re alright?” she asked in a breathless tone.
“Aside from my ego being bruised, yeah, sure. I guess I’m alright. Thanks.”
“Ooooh,” she cooed, trying to examine his forehead. “Looks like it’s more than your ego, Joe. I’m gonna get you some ice for that.”
“That would be great.”
While appreciative for Sissy’s efforts, he was wondering who had replaced his strong, confident sister in law with this fawning teenager. Her sudden attention to him was strange and confusing. In fact, this whole afternoon was proving to be strange and confusing.
The twins barreled into their father, squealing with delight over his silliness. Maggie finally made her approach as the others cleared the playing field. Joe put up his hands to shield himself. “Uh uh…” he said, “You stay away from me. You, young lady, are a lethal weapon.”
“Joe, I’m so sorry,” she said sheepishly. She eyed the red mark that was starting to form on his forehead. “Oooh…you’re gonna wanna put some ice on that.”
“I’ve got it right here,” said Sissy, approaching with a full towel.
“Thanks, Sis,” Joe said, his focus still clearly on Maggie.
Placing the towel in his hands, Sissy slowly began to feel as though she were a bit out of place in the conversation. Sensing her job was finished, she simply said, “Anytime, Joe,” and backed away.
“Good thing your hair covers it,” Maggie said. “You’re gonna have a hard time explaining that to everyone at school.”
“I’ll just tell them I left the other guy looking a whole lot worse.”
“Hey,” she said, pretending to be offended.
“Come on,” he said. “We both know that’s a great big lie.”
Playfully, he put his arm around her neck, forcing her head into his chest. The unexpected force caused her to let out a muffled cry.
“Jose, we’re a little too old for noogies here…ahhhrrgh!” she managed to call out.
“Sorry,” he said, letting her go. “I don’t want to be responsible for messing up that pretty ‘do.’”
Maggie brushed her bangs out of her eyes and laughed, “And we both know that happened a long time ago.”
Standing practically toe to toe, they suddenly found themselves at a loss for words. Joe ran his hands through his hair the way he always did when he didn’t know what to do with them. The front of his hair slicked back, made damp from the sweat he’d worked up, as well as the towel that Sissy had given him. Maggie reached out to inspect the red mark on his forehead once again.
“Looks like it’s getting better,” she said, her eyes moving down to meet his gaze.
“Yeah, guess so.”
The feeling of awkwardness returned; but for Joe, it had definition. He was becoming infatuated with this woman. He had known her for years and had always found her to be one of the most delightful individuals he’d ever met. But today was the first day he truly saw her. Getting to know her on a deeper level suddenly became a priority.
As he reached over to pull some grass off of the collar of her sweater, Maggie felt no desire to look or back away from him. She was beginning to feel comfortable, not just in the cross-hairs of his gaze, but in her own skin as well. She thought that she could stare at this man for hours and constantly discover something new.
The air around the two of them had become a heady, dizzying field of electricity that swirled around them like a cocoon. Neither of them wanted to escape.