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.”
Chapter Nine
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
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.”
Chapter Nine
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
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