Round Seven
MAGGIE
“Hi, Maggie. What are you doing?”
I glance up from my place in the dirt, my hands and knees covered in muck and wrinkles forming on my forehead under the hot September sun.
Still, I follow the long line of dirty blue jeans, holes in both knees, then up to a striped blue and white shirt.
A basketball clasped between two hands. Shoulders that will be broad someday, but they’re not quite there yet.
Then I pass a line of blood smudged beneath his mouth and stop on a pair of bright green eyes.
Don’t be mean, Maggie. Don’t assume the worst!
The Billy Caster I knew would never beat his child.
“Um… hello.” I peek along the boundary line separating our yards and make doubly sure none of my mess has encroached on Billy’s perfect lawn.
I’m determined to give that man no reason to come over here and bark at me.
Satisfied, I settle back on my haunches and smile up at the cutie.
“What happened to your mouth? Did you know you’re bleeding? ”
“Oh, yeah!” He drops his basketball right onto my patch of weedless dirt, digs a hand into his pocket, and yanks it back out again to show off a tooth. “Look what happened today!”
“Your tooth fell out? All on its own?”
“Well… sorta.” Warmth floods his cheeks.
“It was mostly ready to come out, but it still had a tiny bit of gum holding it in. It was hurting, cos every time I ate food, the spiky bit would poke. So me and my dad…” He leans closer, conspiratorially grinning.
“We tied a string around it, then we tied a string around a bullet.”
“A-a bullet?”
“A nerf bullet. Then we shot it and BAM!” He slaps his thigh. “Shot that sucker right out till it went splat against the wall! Didn’t even hurt or anything. And now, cos I was brave, my dad said the tooth fairy will bring me a dollar.”
“A whole dollar?” They shot it out! With a freakin nerf gun. “Geez, your tooth fairy brings you a whole dollar? Mine used to bring quarters back when I was a kid.”
“‘Flation,” he counters easily. “And the wage gap closed a bit, so now the tooth fairy can afford to spend a little more.”
“Well, of course.” The wage gap closed, my ass. “Are you super excited about the tooth fairy visiting? Do you have to clean the tooth and make it extra shiny before she comes?”
“Aw, nah.” He looks down at that pokey little tooth pinched between his fingers and grins his bloody grin. “My dad said because I work so hard on brushing my teeth every other day, she’ll understand if it’s a bit messy from all the fluff in my pants or whatever. Also, I asked what you were doing.”
“You sure did.” I brush the dirt off my thighs and stretch my back, basking in each little crackle and pop of my spine.
“I’m working on my garden. My grandma always loved tending to her flowers when I was little, but I think she must’ve gotten tired in the last couple of years.
Now that I live here, I want to make it pretty again.
” I tilt my head toward the trays on my left.
“I bought a bunch of lavender, since it’s charming, it’s hardy, and it keeps the mosquitoes away in the summer.
” And because I know I’m running out of time, I bend forward again, gently roll the basketball off my flowerbed, and resume pulling the old weeds out.
“I’m working tonight, which means I only have an hour left till my time is up and I need to have a shower. ”
“Can I help?” He drops to his knees on his side of the boundary and digs into the dirt. “I sometimes used to help Mrs. Sava with her flowers.”
“You did?” My lips curl into a smile. “I used to help her, too, back when I was about your age. It’s so much fun, right?”
“Uh-huh. What kinda work do you have to do tonight?”
“Well…” I dump weeds into my bucket of scraps and scoot along to work on the next section. “I’m hosting an event at the bookstore. You know Alana Watkins, right?”
“Yuh!” His bright eyes swing up to mine. “She’s so nice. And her baby is such a cute little fatty.” He giggles. “She has like, eleven chins. Did you count them yet?”
I snort. “Not specifically, no. But I met her. And I met Eliza. She’s your karate teacher, right?”
“Mmhm. She’s super nice, too. She’s very silly, especially when she’s picking on the guys.”
“Yeah?”
“Yuh. Cos she’s smaller than them by half, and she’s annoying like a mosquito sometimes.
She picks at them, picks at them, picks at them.
Then bam!” He slaps his thigh a second time, dirt flying into the space between us.
“Tommy tries to tackle her, but she’s fast, and next thing we know, she’s got him in an arm bar.
” His cheeks blaze bright red. “Tommy and Chris have an Eliza.,” he whispers.
“I have a Molly. Molly is our mosquito, and sometimes, I try to tackle her. But she’s a better fighter than me, so I always lose. ”
“Aw,” I laugh. “That stinks. But I bet Molly works really hard to be good at it, huh? People don’t become really good at things for no reason.”
“Yuh. Like how on your second day here, you weren’t very good at moving heavy things onto the curb for the garbage truck. But then a whole week later, you could Hulk-throw a whole couch from your porch. You worked hard at it.”
“I mean…” I snicker. “I don’t know that I tossed a whole couch. Cushions, maybe. I was getting bored in my own brain, so instead of throwing them normally, I kinda treated them like ninja stars.”
“Is it cos I showed you the karate on your porch?”
“Yup.”
“Jeremy!”
I startle straight and stare across the yard as Billy emerges onto his porch, his eyes scanning his property. It takes only a second for his eyes to lock onto mine and narrow.
Oh boy. Here we go.
“I was gonna invite you over for chocolate cake on the weekend.” Jeremy leans forward, quick-talking as his dad starts down the stairs. “I wanted to, but my dad said no.”
“That’s okay.” I hold his eyes for a beat, then I wink and earn his cute, little gap-toothed smile. “I love to bake anyway, and I made homemade donuts this morning.”
“Really?” His tongue comes out and circles his lips. “I love donuts.”
“What are you doing, Jeremy?” Billy stops behind his son, his hands on his hips, and his glower saved just for me.
Don’t say anything about Aria! No sympathy allowed. He wouldn’t like that.
“Buddy?”
“I showed Maggie my tooth.” He sits back on his haunches and tilts to look up at his father. “Then I saw she was pulling the weeds out, so I asked if I could help.”
“I’m planting lavender just as soon as this mess is cleared out.”
No Aria. No sympathy. No!
I paste on a friendly—but not too friendly, and definitely not sympathetic—smile and study his eyes.
They’re exactly how I remember them from twenty-five years ago, and exactly the shape and color his son inherited eight years ago.
“The lavender will create a nice border, smell good, is pretty almost all year, and it’ll keep the mosquitoes away in the summer. ”
“I hate mosquitoes,” Jeremy growls. “They make me so itchy!”
“You should plant it in your backyard,” Billy grumbles. “Out there where you can enjoy them.”
“I’ll enjoy it right here in the front yard, too.
” I stare up at him and try, so freakin’ hard, to swap the boy from my memories—the boy exactly like the one on his knees in front of me—with the man he became.
Because if anyone had asked me back then if that sweet kid would grow to be a grump, I’d have said no chance.
But that’s what happens when a man unexpectedly loses his wife, I suppose.
“I’m being intentional in what I plant and where I plant it.
I’d like to bring this space back to its former glory, starting with a nice boundary between your yard and mine. ”
“If you have a problem with my kid coming near your yard, just say so,” he snaps. “Passive-aggressive planting with pokers isn’t how you should go about things.”
“Passive-aggressive poking? The lavender?” Stop it, stop it, stop it!
But do I stop it? No, I most certainly do not.
I set my hands on the grass and push up to my feet, and though blood rushes through my legs, I trap the resulting groan somewhere in the depths of my chest. “Lavender doesn’t poke, Detective.
And I have absolutely no issue with your son coming near my yard.
” Hesitating, I lower my gaze and study the little boy.
“Assuming you have permission, aren’t going near the road, and stay safe. ”
“Don’t tell my son what to do.”
Stop it, Maggie! STOP IT!
“Maggie made donuts this morning, Dad.” Jeremy pops to his feet and grabs his father’s arm. “From scratch. She said she likes to bake and stuff, and since you’re a policeman, and policemen like donuts, she made some ‘specially for us.”
You little liar!
Billy’s unkind eyes flip back to mine. “Cos I’m a cop?
You have something to say about my profession, Magnolia?
Or my body?” He looks down at what we both know is a perfectly gym-sculpted physique.
“I’ve been busy at work this week, so I haven’t gotten to the gym in a few days.
But you don’t have to talk shit and rope my kid into donut discussions.
It’s passive-aggressive.” He grunts. “Like your lavender.”
“My lavender is lavender, Wilbert Caster.”
His eyes flare impossibly wide, horrified and furious as he looks around the otherwise deserted street.
You wanna use full first names? Let’s go!
“My lavender is not an attempt at passive aggression. It’s an attempt at having something pretty to look at.
My donuts were not a poke at your job or your body.
They’re just donuts. And your son is sweeter than all the desserts in the world, so I’ll never have a problem with him approaching the boundary between our yards…
” Hesitant again, I meet the boy’s eyes.
“Assuming it’s safe and your dad knows where you are.
” Then back to Billy. “I’m not interested in this war you’re waging, Detective.
I know things started out a little rocky for us, and it’s entirely possible we both said things we regret, but we’re neighbors now, and I don’t intend to leave until I’m old and gray and the coroner has to peel my body off the couch, and though I sometimes sit inside my home and wish otherwise, I highly doubt you’re leaving anytime soon either.
That means we’re stuck. Surely getting along would be the better choice for us? ”
“My dad’s going out on a date tonight, Maggie.”
“Oh…” Stunned, I examine the little boy’s elated eyes, then his father’s horrified glare. “Okay. Well… that sounds nice.” I force a smile and swallow the nervous laugh bubbling along my throat. “Cool. I hope you have a lovely time.”
“I’m not going out on a date tonight,” Billy snarls. “In fact, I do everything I can to avoid dating. Always. And if Barbara gets within fifty feet of us in town, I make a damn point of turning and running the other way.”
“B-Barbara?” I lean closer. “The old woman Barbara?”
Jeremy bobs his head.
“Isn’t she a little… ya know… old for you?”
“I’m not dating Barbara either! Jesus!”
“So, who are you going on a date with? And how did Barbara come to be in this conversation?”
“I’m not dating anybody!” he snaps. “And Barbara’s in this conversation cos she’s always trying to set me up with her granddaughter.
It’s a no from me. Absolutely not.” He drops his hand to Jeremy’s shoulder, squeezing just hard enough to steer the boy away.
“We’re going inside now. Say goodbye to your friend. ”
“She’s our friend, Dad!” Walking backwards, Jeremy hypnotizes me with his angelic smile. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you pull more weeds, Maggie. My dad’s gotta shower and get ready for his date.”
“I’m not going out on a date!”
“Maybe I could come taste one of those donuts soon.” Jeremy licks his lips and stumbles under the weight of Billy’s guiding hand. “You made them sound so good. And we never ever have homemade donuts.”
“Sure.” I exhale a soft laugh and enjoy the reddening of Billy’s cheeks. “I hope you enjoy your not-a-date, Detective.”
“It’s not a—” He pauses, scowls, then spins, muttering under his breath. “It’s not a friggin’ date.” He gently smacks Jeremy’s butt and sends the boy skittering up the stairs. “Get inside and have a bath. You stink, dude. Tania’s gonna be here in a bit.”
“Is she babysitting me so’s you can go out on your date?” Jeremy whips the front door open and darts inside amid thunderous feet and wild giggles. “It’s a date, Dad! Why are you being so silly about it?”
“Because it’s not a date!”