The Happiest Season (7 page)

She hurried over and checked them.  She was relieved to find
a can of the neutral-toned exterior paint.  Hoisting it into her arms, she
carried it outside.

As her eyes passed over the repaired siding, she gasped. 
“It looks perfect!” she declared.

“You sound surprised,” John said, chuckling.

“No, no, it’s not that.  It’s just…”

“Yes?” he prompted.

“I guess I’m just relieved and so grateful.  If I had had to
hire someone to fix it…”  She spread her hands.  “It probably would have cost a
fortune.”  Suddenly, her eyes widened.  “John, I have to pay you, at least
until whomever ends up reimbursing me for the damage.”

He waved off her worries.  “You do not.  I offered to help
out.”

He saw she looked wholly uncomfortable.  He rose from his
crouched position and crossed the distance between them.  Taking the paint from
her, he glanced up at the sky.  It was gray, but there were no threatening
clouds hovering above.

“I checked the weather report and we’re not supposed to have
any rain for a couple days.  It’d probably be a good idea to get the siding
painted while the weather cooperates with us.”

Maggie nodded, and then seemed to register something of
import.

“What is it?” John asked.

“Oh, I just realized that the trim paint is a different
color, but I didn’t find any leftover in the garage.  I’ll have to pick some up
later.”

He nodded.  “I’ll go ahead and paint the new trim the same
color as the siding for now, in order to protect it from inclement weather.  We
shouldn’t wait too long before finding the right color, however.”

She digested his words and then folded her arms across her
mid-section.  “It’s getting chilly,” she observed.

“Maybe we’ll have a white Christmas,” John commented,
looking up at the sky again.

“You mean snow!” Rickey said.  “I want snow for Christmas!” 
His little face scrunched up in thought.  “I want to build a snowman—maybe even
an igloo.”  He gave a wistful sigh.  “Oh, I hope it snows for Christmas.”

“We’ll just hope it doesn’t snow until we’re done painting,”
John told him.

Rickey nodded.  “Yeah, we don’t want it to snow until we’re
done painting.”  The little boy angled a glance at his mom.  “By the way, Mama,
John wants you to make those same Christmas cookies… You know, the ones you
baked for the camel…”

John’s mouth abruptly dropped open and he gave a nervous chuckle. 
“Uh, well, Rickey!”  He burst out laughing and raised a clarifying finger. 
“Actually, Rickey asked me if I liked those cookies, and I happened to admit
that I loved those cookies, and he said…”

Maggie chuckled with good humor.  “No explanation
necessary.  I know exactly how Rickey’s mind works, as well as his propensity
for putting words into other people’s mouths.”

John gave a sheepish, almost guilty look.  “Well, I am
partly to blame.”  He reached down and tousled Rickey’s hair.  “We were talking
about our favorite holiday treats and…”

“Really, I understand,” Maggie interjected, laughing.  “I’m
going inside and I’m going to…”

“Start baking!” Rickey cried.

Maggie laughed.  “Yes.”

“Oh, you don’t have to…” John protested.

“Oh, yes, I do,” she cut in.  “If you won’t take cash, maybe
you’ll accept cookies for all your hard work.”

He smiled into her eyes.  “I will most definitely take
cookies.”

Maggie entered the house and retrieved a cookbook from a top
drawer in the kitchen island.  After finding the particular recipe, she
hurriedly assembled all the ingredients, and then got to work making the
batter.  When John and Rickey walked into the house later, they were
immediately struck by the delicious smell of cookies baking in the oven.

“Something smells good,” John said.

“Mama’s cookies!” Rickey said eagerly.  “Can John and me
have a cookie when they’re done?”

“John and I,” Maggie corrected.

“Well, sure, you and John can,” Rickey said with a
frustrated snort.  “You’re the mama.  You can do what you want.”

John bit back a chuckle as Maggie sent her son a scolding
glance, and then checked the clock over the stove.  John misread her intent. 

“I should get out of your way,” he said.

Maggie chortled.  “You fixing my siding hardly puts you in
‘the way.’

“Well, I’m sure you have things to do.”

She nodded.  “Yes.  I need to make another dozen cookies to
send home with you.”

He smiled.  “I won’t argue the point,” he said agreeably.

“It’ll take awhile to bake the second batch,” she told him. 
“Why don’t you…?”

“Sit with me in the family room,” Rickey said eagerly.  “We
can watch cartoons!”

“No, you can watch an educational program,” Maggie told him,
and was surprised when even John looked disappointed.

“Do you … want to watch cartoons?” she asked uncertainly.

He gave a shrug.  “Well, I used to really like them when I
was a kid.  It wouldn’t hurt my feelings to…”

“Yay!  Cartoons!” Rickey cried, as he turned to the channel
that aired cartoons.

John settled in the family room to watch the television. 
When Rickey dropped onto the couch beside him, he smiled at the little boy. 

Maggie watched out of the corner of her eye.  It was obvious
Rickey was enamored with John, but the officer seemed fond of Rickey too.  How
did she feel about that?

She gave herself a shake.  Analyzing the situation wasn’t
warranted, she decided.  She’d just met John, who happened to be a Good
Samaritan, but one she probably wouldn’t see again.  Sure, he looked awfully
comfortable on the couch, and sure, Rickey clearly adored him, but a brief few
hours spent with a stranger certainly didn’t portend a relationship to come.

Besides, she wasn’t looking for one.  Despite the fact that
her friends and family constantly asserted that she should start dating, she
simply wasn’t ready.  It had only been two short years since Shane’s passing
and to consider going out with anyone at this juncture seemed like a betrayal
of his love.

When she’d recently said as much to her mother, her mother
had scoffed, and had told her that the duration of a mourning period after the
death of a spouse wasn’t set in stone.  She’d insisted that moving on was more
about finding the right person, and less about the passage of time.  She’d
warned that Maggie might very well overlook a wonderful person if she insisted
on sticking to some arbitrary time frame.

Still, she disagreed.  Her love for Shane ran too deep.  She
would always love him.  To move on felt as if she would diminish that love.

When both Rickey and John broke out in laughter over the
antics of “Tom and Jerry,” she was glad for the distraction.  When the timer on
the oven dinged, she was equally glad.  She pulled the cookies from the oven,
not the least bit surprised when Rickey suddenly appeared beside her.  She was,
however, a bit dismayed when John joined him.

“Don’t you want to wait for the cookies to cool?” she asked,
glancing from one to the other.

“Nope,” they said in unison.

Maggie met John’s gaze.  Their eyes held, and she felt the
charge of something electric—a jolt of attraction.  Her eyes widened in shock. 
John, she was certain, felt it too.  His eyes lingered on her face, his eyes briefly
questioning.  

She cleared her throat.  “Okay, then, have your cookies
now.”  She pulled two small plates from the cupboard and a couple glasses. 
After pouring milk for each, she passed them to the eager men.  “Enjoy.”

Rickey sat down on a stool, and John followed suit.  They
watched Maggie as she formed the next batch of cookies into balls, rolled them
in sugar, and placed them carefully on the cookie sheet.  Soon, she slipped
them into the oven to bake.

John watched her movements, noting she seemed at home in the
kitchen.  Her movements were crisp, efficient, and he liked watching her.  His
ex hadn’t enjoyed spending time in the kitchen.  It had never bothered him.  He
actually found cooking relaxing, so when they hadn’t eaten out, or ordered takeout,
he had cooked.  He’d developed quite a repertoire of meals that he had prepared
often.

He had never tried baking, however, and reached for the
cookbook on the island top.  He opened it and began reading through recipes. 
He finally looked up when he sensed he was being watched.

Maggie grinned at him.  “Planning on doing some baking?”

He grinned back at her.  “You never know.”  He sat up taller
on the stool.  “I happen to be a pretty good cook.”

“I’m sure you are,” Maggie said.

“I am,” he asserted, with an impish grin.

“Maybe you can cook for us sometime,” Rickey suggested.

Maggie laughed uneasily, but John seemed unfazed.  “I’d be
happy to,” he said, and meant it.  He would gladly cook a meal for Maggie and
her son.  In fact, he hoped he might be able to spend time with them again.

It was an epiphany.  He’d been so isolated, had turned
inward, and become a loner of late.  It really wasn’t his nature.  He’d always
enjoyed time with friends and family.  It was as if losing Kim had flipped a
switch in him—to ‘off.’  He silently berated himself for giving her that kind
of power over him.

“Maybe you’ll let me cook you dinner sometime,” he said,
meeting Maggie’s eyes.  He smiled, but braced for her answer.  He hoped he
hadn’t overstepped.

He feared he had when her eyes widened with alarm.  She
hurriedly blanked her face, so he was unsure if he’d read her correctly. 
Nonetheless, she smiled. 

“Dinner would be nice.”

***

“Gloria!  John offered to make dinner for Rickey and me
sometime.”

“That’s great,” Gloria said, sounding very pleased.  She had
just called Maggie regarding an upcoming office holiday party, since she’d
forgotten to speak with her about it earlier.  She found her friend in a state
of agitation.

“It’s not great!  I think I said ‘yes.’”  She began
breathing rapidly, almost hyperventilating, and Gloria attempted to calm her
down.

“Now, Maggie, listen.  Take a deep, slow breath and count to
three.”

“Okay.”

Gloria heard her trying to shore her breathing.  “Now tell
me, what are you worried about?  Specifically.”

Maggie heaved a beleaguered sigh.  “I’m not ready to date.”

“Well, did Officer John actually pin you down on a time and
place?  Wait a minute,” she said.  “He included Rickey in the invitation.  In
light of that fact, maybe you’re reading a bit much into the offer.”

“Maybe,” she mused.  “But…”

“What?”

“We had a…”

“What?”

She groaned.  “A … moment.”

Gloria laughed.  “What does that mean?”

“Our eyes connected over a tray of cookies.”

“All right!” Gloria cried.  “That’s terrific news.”

“It is not.  Gloria, my husband just…”

It was Gloria who took a deep, shoring breath this time. 
“My friend, your husband didn’t ‘just’ do anything.  Honey, he passed away two
years ago.  You have to move on.  He would want you to.  Rickey needs you to.”

Maggie sighed again.  “I know, but…”

“No buts,” Gloria interjected.  “It’s time to consider
moving on.  Having dinner with John is a good way to start, if you ask me—with
or without Rickey along.”

“Oh, I’m probably overreacting anyway,” she acknowledged. 
“I’ll probably never see him again anyway.”

“You sound … disappointed at that possibility.”

“Do I?’  She moaned.  “I’m awful.  Just awful.  How could I
betray Shane like this?”

“You haven’t betrayed Shane in any way, shape, or form,”
Gloria said testily.  “What you have done, Maggie, is take one small step for
yourself, by actually interacting with the opposite sex.  Do not, and I mean,
do
not
, shut the door on the possibility of a date with Officer John.”

“A date,” she repeated numbly, and Gloria was certain she heard
Maggie’s head thunk solidly against the island top.  She knew she was right
when she heard Maggie groan as if in pain. 

“Did you just hit your head?”

“Yes.  I didn’t mean to.  I underestimated the distance
between my forehead and the countertop.”

“Happens to the best of us.”  Gloria was silent for a
moment.  “I want you to promise me something…”

“What?”

“If John asks you out, go.  If nothing else, you’ll get a free
dinner out of the deal.”

“Gloria!”

“You know what I mean.  It’ll be a chance to test your wings—to
enter the dating world again.  Even if things go nowhere with John, it’ll be
good practice for you.”

“Practice doing what, specifically?” she said shrilly.