The Happiest Season (11 page)

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. 

“Here’s all we have left,” he told them.  “If you do decide
to lay it, you’ll want to be sure to lay down several inches of compost or top
soil first.  That way, you’ll give it a fighting chance.”

“Okay,” John said crisply.  “We’ll take it all, and hope we
have enough,” he muttered under his breath.  He turned to the store clerk. 
“Where can I pay?”

Maggie discreetly tugged at his arm.  “I’m paying,” she whispered.

“No, I’ll put it on my credit card,” he told her.  “That
way, it’s likely we’ll have the cash in hand when the bill comes due.”

“I can use my credit card,” she told him, but hated the idea
of using it.  Besides, she had a limit of only three hundred dollars—at her own
request.  She kept the card on hand for emergencies only.  He seemed to read
her reticence about using the card. 

“Really, Maggie, it’s fine.  We’ll use mine and be careful
to hang on to all the receipts.”

She met his gaze, saw in his eyes he really wanted to help,
and out of necessity, gave a resigned sigh.  She really was at his mercy.  She
had no idea how much the sod would cost.  What if it exceeded the limit on her
card?

It was a moot point when the clerk led them to a register
and rang them up.  John hurriedly paid and then turned to Maggie.  “I’ll get
the truck so we can get loaded up.”  To the clerk, he asked, “Where should I bring
my truck?”

The clerk told them, and Maggie noted John seemed distracted
all of a sudden.  “We forgot the top soil,” he said.

The clerk shook his head.  “I’m sorry.  I should have
remembered.  Shall I grab several bags?”

Maggie quickly asked how much it cost, and to her relief,
she knew she could cover it with funds in her checking account.  “I’ve got it,”
she told John, before he could pull out his credit card. 

It appeared he might argue, but he nodded.  “I’ll get the
truck and pull up while you arrange to have the top soil brought over,” he told
her.

“Okay.  I’ll see you in a bit,” she said.

Rickey, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, asked, “Can
I go with John, Mama?”

“If he doesn’t mind…”

“Not a problem,” John said, reaching for Rickey’s hand as if
it was the most natural thing in the world to do.  The two strode off, as
Maggie saw to the top soil.

***

As the men hurried toward the store’s exit, they turned down
an aisle and Rickey abruptly crashed into a woman, as she stepped back to
admire a piece of yard décor.  The little boy tumbled backward, and had John
not been holding him, he would have hit the floor hard.

John stopped and looked down at Rickey with concern and
alarm.  The woman had really hit him hard.  He saw the little boy was trying
not to cry, but that he was clutching his head.

Instinctively, he reached for him and swung him into his
arms.  He gently removed his hand from his head and saw that a spot on the
right side of his forehead was already bruising.  “Are you all right?” he
asked, his protective instincts flaring as he turned to see who had collided
with the boy.

Kim!

His ex watched him, as if he were a space alien.  “What are
you doing here?” she demanded, and then her eyes widened alarmingly.  “Are you
…
following me
?”

“Of course not,” he said, dismissing her as he turned his
attention back to Rickey.  He noticed the knot on his forehead had grown and
that it was turning a deeper purple.  He felt a surge of anger toward Kim, but
tamped it down, lest Rickey see him lose his temper.

Instead, he talked soothingly to him.  “After we load up the
truck, we’ll get you some ice, and…”  He arched his brows.  “How ‘bout an ice
cream cone?”

Rickey perked up.  “Strawberry?”

John could see he was struggling not to cry, and his heart
tugged.  He pulled the little boy against him and stroked his back.  “Anything
you want,” he promised.

The woman gave him a look of contempt.  “Anything he wants?”
she spat.  “
I
certainly never heard those words from you.”

He bit back a retort, shook his head, and strode off. 
Rickey was holding on to him tightly, his little body plied against him.  John
didn’t want the little boy upset further should he witness an altercation
between him and Kim.

John knew that the blow to his head had to hurt, and he was
angry it had happened.  Kim should have been more careful, but then, he had to
concede, she hadn’t meant to collide with the little boy.  But just the same,
old hurts came to the forefront, making it difficult for him to forgive her.

When Rickey pulled back and looked into his eyes and smiled,
however, he forgot all about Kim, until he said adamantly, “That lady is mean.”

John gave a burst of chagrined laughter.  “You don’t know
the half of it, buddy.”

***

Back in John’s truck, Maggie gently probed Rickey’s
forehead.  “You, my dear, have a goose egg,” she said with a sympathetic smile.

John sighed.  “I’m so sorry,” he said, for the umpteenth
time.  “It shouldn’t have happened.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she assured him.  “It wasn’t
anybody’s fault.  These things happen.”  She gently tousled her son’s dark
hair.  “It isn’t this one’s first head injury, and won’t be his last.”

“Just the same…”

“I’m all right, John,” Rickey said, watching him eagerly,
pointedly.  “Did you remember you said we could get some…?”

John laughed.  “Ice cream,” he remembered, and Rickey
nodded, as if relieved.

“Ice cream?” Maggie said.  “But it’s cold outside.”

“It’s never too cold for ice cream,” John scoffed.

“John is getting me ice cream because that mean lady ran
into me,” Rickey explained.

“Honey, I’m sure she isn’t mean,” Maggie said.  “It was
simply an accident.” 

“Oh, yes she is mean,” he insisted, giving John a
conspiratorial look.  “You don’t know that half of it,” he added, nodding his
head up and down.

Maggie glanced at John, her face registering confusion.

“Ice cream!” he said, pointing ahead at a popular ice cream
place, and relieved for the distraction.  “Rickey wants strawberry.  How about
you, Maggie?  What sounds good?”

“Nothing for me,” she said, and out of the corner of his
eye, he saw that she continued watching him through what could only be deemed
suspicious eyes.  But he couldn’t bring himself to tell her that Ricky had been
injured by his ex-wife. 

He pulled into the drive-through, placed their order, and
then sat back to wait.  He raised his right arm and rested it along the back of
the bench seat, and began drumming nervously with his fingers.  Maggie turned
in her seat and stared at his hand, as if trying to read the reasons behind the
nervous gesture.

He noticed.  “Oh, sorry.”  He pulled his arm back and took a
deep breath.  He knew he was behaving strangely, but seeing Kim for the second
time in a week’s time had unnerved him.

He was relieved when they pulled forward in the
drive-through and were promptly given their cones.  He offered Maggie a taste
of his before having a bite himself, but she declined.

Rickey dove into his cone, obviously a huge fan of
strawberry ice cream.  “Strawberry is my favorite,” he gushed, and turned to
his mother.  “John said I could have any kind I wanted.”  He furrowed his brow,
as if remembering something.  “That mean lady said John never got her any kind
of ice cream
she
wanted.”  He narrowed his lids.  “I don’t blame him.  I
wouldn’t give her any ice cream either.”

John promptly choked on his brownie fudge ice cream.

***

Back at Maggie’s house, she sent Rickey up to wash his hands
and face, and to change out of his shirt.  He’d dropped most of his strawberry
ice cream on the front of it.

While he was gone, it gave Maggie an opportunity to study
John, who still seemed out of sorts as he sat on the sofa in the family room. 
She joined him there.

“All right,” she said finally.  “Do you want to fill me in?”

“On what?” he asked.

“You know what I’m talking about,” she reminded him, her
eyes sparkling with humor.  “I understand you never gave ‘that’ lady any ice
cream,” she said, and began chuckling.  “I’m sure that Rickey’s take on
whatever occurred is miles away from what really happened, but you’ve seemed
rather discombobulated since we left that store.”

“Discombobulated?”

“Yes.  And I think you need an ear, and maybe even a
shoulder.”

He chuckled at that.  “Yeah, probably,” he admitted, with a
self-deprecating laugh.

“Do you want to talk?” she asked softly.  “Really.  I’m
happy to listen.”

He turned and searched her face.  Her eyes were wide,
radiating kindness.  She nodded, urging him to talk to her.

She could see he was on the verge, but abruptly pulled
back.  He shook his head.  “That’s okay.  I’m fine.”

She nodded.  She wouldn’t push.  If he wanted to talk to
her, he would.  She really didn’t know him well enough to push him to do
anything.

“I need to get outside and start laying that sod,” he said,
yawning.

She shook her head.  “Nope.  Not today.  I’ll do it
tomorrow.”

“What time should I plan on coming by?” he asked.

She laughed.  “You’re not.  You’re going to enjoy your day
off.  You’ve done enough for Rickey and me.”

He eased back on the sofa and watched her.  She shifted
under his scrutiny, wondering what was going through his mind.  To her
surprise, he reached across the distance separating them and took her hand.  He
gave it a squeeze.  “I want to help.  I really do.”

“Have you always been a glutton for punishment?” she asked,
searching his face this time.

His lips tugged into a smile.  “Nope.  But I’m coming by
anyway.  I can’t wait to see what might turn up in your yard during the light
of day.”

Maggie had just put Rickey to bed, when her phone rang.  She
hurried to pick it up, and carried the cordless phone from the kitchen and into
the family room, where she dropped onto the couch.  She tucked her legs under
her, checked the caller ID on the phone, and answered the call.

“Hello, Gloria,” she said, smiling.

“I’ll never get used to this new fangled technology,” Gloria
uttered.  “What’s the fun of knowing who’s on the end of the phone line?  Don’t
you like the element of surprise?”

“Not really,” she admitted honestly.  “Anyway, what can I do
for you?  By the way, how’s your weekend going?”

“Good,” she answered.  “But hey, I was wondering if I could
stop by with those presents tomorrow.  The grandkids are coming soon, and if I
don’t stow them safely away…”

“The grandkids or the presents?” she teased.

“You know what I mean,” Gloria said with mock frustration. 
“Although I have wanted to stow those kids away a time or two…”

“Oh, you have not,” Maggie countered.  “You love those
kids.”

“Of course, I do.  But there are times a break is welcome. 
Anyway…  If you could hide the gifts in your spare bedroom…”

“I’ll have to be sure Rickey doesn’t dive in and do some
snooping if he happens to find them.”

“They’re dolls.  He wouldn’t be interested.”

“Probably not.”

“I am bringing his gifts too,” Gloria informed.

“Oh, Gloria, you shouldn’t have gotten him anything.  You
have so many of your own family to buy for.” 

“Oh, pashaw,” she said.  “I love that little kid.  He’s
become like a grandchild to me.”

“And he loves you like a grandmother.”