6. Blair
6
BLAIR
I wrap my arm around Maggie's waist, supporting her as we follow Max down the sidewalk. Jack-o'-lanterns flicker on every porch, and strands of orange lights crisscross between houses, casting a festive glow over the neighborhood. The crisp October air nips at our faces, but thankfully the snow's held off. I always hated having to wear a coat over my costume when I was a kid, and I know Max feels the same.
"Trick or treat!" Max bellows, his enthusiasm undiminished despite hitting what must be his fiftieth house of the night. When Mrs. Gunderson opens her door, he launches into an animated conversation about his T-Rex costume.
"Your son's got quite the set of pipes on him," I tease Maggie, giving her a gentle squeeze, so aware of how thin her shoulders have gotten. Maggie's never been tall, but she always had strong shoulders and a healthy, curvy body. Now, she's shrinking, and I hate it.
She laughs, the sound a bit wheezy but genuine. "Christine called me in for a talking to yesterday. Apparently, he called Jimmy a 'dickwad' for stealing his juice box."
I snort. "Wonder where he picked that up?"
"I plead the fifth," Maggie says, winking at me. "Christine said she had to do her duty and have a talk with me, but she couldn't keep a straight face, so I'm not too worried about it."
"Christine swears more than any person in this town, and everyone knows it. It's a good thing she has the patience of a fucking saint, or she would have been fired by now for introducing the first graders to the phrase 'motherfucking cocksuckers.'"
Maggie cackles. "Oh my god, could you imagine!"
"Yeah, I totally could." Christine is one of my favorite people, partly because of the swearing. I never have to worry what comes out of my mouth around her because I know she's said way worse.
Probably before breakfast.
We wave to the Petersons, camped out on lawn chairs in their driveway as we pass. Their oldest daughter, home from college for the weekend, is handing out king-sized candy bars. Halloween in Badger Falls is magical, and everyone knows it. Besides, every year it feels like there are fewer kids, so why not spring for the big ones?
"Maggie! How you holding up, hon?" Mrs. Peterson calls out.
"Oh, you know me. Tough as nails," Maggie replies with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.
I feel a pang in my chest. This time around, the chemo seems to be taking a harder toll. Maggie's bundled up in a thick coat, scarf, and hat, but I can still feel her shivering against me.
"You doing okay?" I ask softly as Max races ahead to the next house. "We can head back if you're getting tired."
Maggie shakes her head. "I'm fine, Blair. Let the kid have his fun. We're making memories here."
I bite my lip, not entirely convinced. But I know better than to argue with Maggie Jones when she's made up her mind.
"Alright, but you tell me the second you want to call it quits, okay?"
She pats my arm. "Yes, Mom." I roll my eyes at her, but her sass makes me feel a little better.
We continue down the street, Max's excited chatter floating back to us. Maggie's steps are getting slower, her breath a little more labored, but I don't say anything, just slow my steps to match hers.
"Remember when we used to do this?" she asks suddenly. "God, we thought we were so grown up, trick-or-treating without our parents."
I chuckle. "Yeah, and then we'd gorge ourselves on candy and make ourselves sick."
"Good times," Maggie sighs. There's a wistfulness in her voice that makes my throat tight.
"Hey," I say, stopping us both. I turn to face her, taking in the pallor of her skin, the dark circles under her eyes. "You know I'm here, right? Whatever you need, whenever you need it."
Maggie's eyes well up, but she blinks the tears away. "I know, Blair. You've always been there for me. And now..." She trails off, her gaze drifting to Max, who's animatedly describing his costume to Mr. Flannigan.
"I'm not going anywhere. I'll always be here for both of you," I say, pulling her into a hug. "Always."
She clings to me for a moment, then pulls back with a watery laugh. "Look at us, getting all sappy on Halloween. We're supposed to be scaring the kids, not ourselves."
I force a smile, trying to shake off the heaviness settling in my chest. "You're right. Come on, let's go make sure Max doesn't talk Mr. Flannigan's ear off."
As we start walking again, Maggie leans on me more heavily. I tighten my grip around her waist, silently promising to hold her up for as long as she needs me to.
And praying that I won't need to much longer. She has to get better.
I guide Maggie past a few more houses, watching Max's excitement grow with each new handful of candy. After about half an hour, he turns to us, his dinosaur head tilted comically to one side.
"Can we get hot chocolate now? I'm thirsty!"
Maggie chuckles. "Sure thing, kiddo. Let's head to the square."
We make our way the few blocks to the town square, where the Halloween festivities are in full swing. The air's filled with laughter and the smell of cinnamon and apples. Strings of orange and purple lights crisscross overhead, casting a warm glow over the crowd. The whole town is here, and this party won't stop until after midnight.
Max spots his friends by the ring toss and tugs on Maggie's sleeve. "Mom, can I go play?"
Maggie pulls him in for a hug, his inflatable costume collapsing around her arms. "Of course, sweetie. Grab yourself a drink and have fun!"
I settle Maggie on a nearby bench. "I'll grab us some hot chocolate. You good here?"
She nods, waving me off. I weave through the crowd to the refreshment booth, where Angela is ladling out steaming cups.
"Hey, Blair! How's it going?" Angie asks, her smile bright beneath her witch's hat.
"Can't complain," I reply, forcing a smile. "Two hot chocolates, please."
As she fills the cups, Angie's smile fades a bit. "How's Maggie doing? I haven't seen her around much lately."
I hesitate, glancing back at Maggie. She's watching Max play, a wistful smile on her face. "The chemo's... it's tough this time. It's…" I trail off, not wanting to voice the fears that keep me up at night.
Angie reaches across the booth to squeeze my hand. "If you need anything, just let me know, okay?"
I nod, grateful for her support. We've known each other almost our whole lives, and while we never got as close as Maggie and I did, I know she'd be there in a heartbeat. Just like we were when her parents died. That's what we do in small towns, take care of each other.
Eager to change the subject, I ask, "How's that housing development coming along? The one you and your dude were working on?"
Angie's face falls, and she busies herself with wiping down the table. "It's... not great. Jake's taken off. Just up and left without a word."
"What? When did this happen?"
She sighs, her shoulders slumping. "About a month ago. I should've seen it coming, I guess. Things had been rocky for a while."
I can't say I'm shocked that the guy Angie met and got engaged to within a month turned out to be a flake.Their quick engagement and his grand plans to "put Badger Falls on the map" with a luxury housing development had disaster written all over it. Not that I'd ever tell her that. People have to make their own mistakes, and trying to interfere is a good way to lose a friend. The last time I drove by the development of mini-mansions just outside town, the frames of a dozen houses stood like skeletons against the sky, plywood roofs on, tarps flapping in the windows.
"He was always talking about how that development was going to put this town on the map," Angie continues, her voice bitter. "Said it would make us both rich, not that I ever cared anything about that. But every time I asked about the finances or the construction timeline, he'd get defensive. I should've known something was off."
I don't understand how otherwise smart women can be so fucking stupid. It was her money, her land, her inheritance. And still she handed over control to some fuckwad.
"What are you going to do now?" I ask.
Angie shrugs. "Honestly? I have no idea. It was a stupid idea from the start. Who's gonna want to live in a McMansion two hours from Chicago? I don't know why I let him talk me into it."
Because you wanted to believe.
I hand her a few bills for the hot chocolate. "Don't be too hard on yourself, Ang. We all make mistakes."
She gives me a wan smile. "Yeah, well, this one's gonna cost me. I was funding the project; now I'm stuck with a mess."
I open my mouth to respond, but I'm cut off by Max's excited shout. He's running towards us, plastic pumpkin overflowing with candy.
"Aunt Blair! I won a goldfish!"
He proudly holds up a clear plastic bag with a tiny orange fish inside. Maggie trails behind him, looking exhausted but happy.
"That's great, buddy," I say, ruffling his hair. "Let's get you and your mom home, okay? It's getting late."
As we say our goodbyes and head out of the square, I glance back at Angie. She's smiling and chatting with the next customer, but I can see the worry in her eyes. It seems like everyone in Badger Falls is carrying their own burdens these days.
It’s not life or death, but it still a burden.
Though I don’t think anyone would choose what Maggie’s going through over carrying their own load.
I can’t blame them.
I help Maggie tuck an over-excited Max into bed, the fish circling in a hastily made fish bowl on his nightstand. The sugar rush from all the Halloween candy has him bouncing off the walls, but halfway through a story, his eyes start to droop.
Maggie reads right to the end, her voice low and hypnotic to the point that my own eyes close. When she's finished, I open my eyes in time to see her brush Max's wild hair off his forehead and press a kiss to the top of his head. Then she just lays her head on the pillow beside him and watches him.
My chest tightens so much that I feel like I can't draw a full breath. Leaving them in their peaceful little bubble, I head to the back porch and grip the railing. This time feels different. Maggie feels different. I'm trying to chalk that up to this being her third time fighting cancer, but it's not just that.
The first time, she was a teenager. We both thought she was invincible, and she flew through treatments. The second time, she was in her early thirties, and while it was a blow to get the diagnosis, she was so confident she would beat it again that she made me believe it.
This time, everything's heavier.
There's so much more for her to lose. There's Max.
When she came home pregnant after her "I beat Cancer" trip, I was terrified for her. Her body had just been through so much, I didn't see how carrying a baby would be in her best interest. But she was so calm, so certain that she was supposed to have that baby, that I did what I always end up doing with her and went along for the ride.
It turns out we were both right. It was hard on her body. Moving in here to help when things got tougher for her only made sense. The plan was to help her get through the pregnancy and the first few weeks, then head back home to Dad. Or, more likely, take all the money I'd been saving up for years and buy my own little place. Properties around here are cheap.
But somehow, it was never the right time to leave.
Then, Dad got sick and passed in what felt like days.
Then I was the one that didn't want to leave.
Yeah, I might seem like a loner. I've always had trouble figuring out how I'm supposed to act with people. That stuff, social stuff, never came easily to me.
Except with Maggie.
And Ransom.
Not fucking going there.
The door squeaks. "Blair, you okay?" Maggie asks softly.
I nod and follow her inside.
In the living room, Maggie sinks into the corner of the sofa with a weary sigh. I settle into the armchair across from her, kicking off my shoes.
Maggie looks at me, her eyes shining. "Thank you," she says softly.
"For what?" I ask, puzzled.
"Everything," she replies. "For always being here. For putting your own life aside."
I shake my head, reaching out to squeeze her hand. "I didn't put anything aside, Mags. You're family."
"But you could have been married by now and had your own family," she insists.
I imagined that once, when I was young and very stupid. But dreams, and people, change. "Trust me, I'm living exactly the life I planned. Marriage and kids aren't in the cards for me."
Maggie's quiet for a moment, picking at a loose thread on her sweater. "I always imagined you and Ransom would end up together," she says softly. "I had this whole big life planned out for you two in my head."
I feel my chest tighten at the mention of his name. "Maggie, don't?—"
"I know, I know," she says quickly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought him up. Besides, it's ancient history. Do you think things might develop between you and Adam?"
Adam. I absently press my finger between the stitches of the knitted blanket on the back of the couch. "I don't think so. It's just physical. We both need company sometimes."
"He's a good guy."
"He is a good guy. But he's got his own issues. It works between us because it's simple. He doesn't get butthurt when I don't want to get together. I like that."
"So it's not a real connection then?"
"What we do together is very real, Mags, and very sweaty."
She snorts and rests her cheek on the back of the couch. "He is hot, that's for sure. All those muscles. Whew!"
"So many muscles," I mumble, happy to think of Adam instead of Ransom for once. Adam is a brilliant distraction. He's uncomplicated.
No, that's not right. He's complicated and twisty as fuck, but we're not. We're easy, simple, and no pressure. I need that in my life.
We sit in silence for a while, the only sound the ticking of the old clock on the mantel.
"Blair, I think it's time."
"Time for what?" I ask, though I have a sinking feeling I already know.
She tugs the scarf off and runs a hand over her thinning hair. "To shave my head. It's getting too patchy. Might as well get it over with."
I nod, remembering the first time we did this, back when we were teenagers. It wasn't about cancer back then. It was all Maggie's stupid idea. And half the fault of the bottle of peach schnapps we stole from her mom's liquor stash. "At least this time we don't have to sneak the clippers out of your dad's bathroom," I say, trying to lighten the mood.
Maggie chuckles. "God, remember how we almost got caught? Dad came home early and we had to hide all the hair we'd swept up."
"How long did you wear that hat before he noticed?" I ask, grinning at the memory of her pink knit beanie.
"Three weeks," she says, scrunching up her face. "I don't know what the fuck I was thinking. Why did I think that would look cool with half my head shaved?"
"Because you were sixteen and a dumbass."
She sighs. "Yeah, there is that."
The second time she shaved her head, during her second cancer fight, she did it herself. Just walked out of the bathroom one day like it was no big deal.
I get up and head to the bathroom, returning with the electric clippers. "No schnapps this time, I'm afraid," I say, pulling out a kitchen chair. "But I think there's some wine in the fridge if you want."
Maggie shakes her head and pushes off the couch with a groan. "Nah, let's just do it. But maybe put on some music? For old times' sake?"
I pull out my phone and queue up some '90s pop hits—our go-to playlist back in high school. As the familiar beats fill the room, I plug in the clippers and Maggie sits in the chair.
"You ready?" I ask, standing behind her.
Maggie takes a deep breath. "As I'll ever be."
I switch on the clippers, and the buzzing fills the air. "Wait, what about Max? Maybe we should warn?—"
"Already did. He thinks I'm going to look cool."
"Good." Of course she prepared Max. She's a great mom, and she wouldn't do anything to deliberately upset him.
As I make the first pass over her scalp, Maggie reaches up and grabs my free hand, squeezing it tight. "You know," she says, her voice barely audible over the clippers, "I'm glad it's you doing this. Just like the first time."
I have to swallow hard against the lump in my throat. "Always, Mags. I'll always be here."
We fall silent as I continue working, both lost in our own thoughts. The floor around us fills with wisps of Maggie's hair, and I'm struck by how different this feels from the first time. We were so young then, the future so full of promise. Our whole lives were ahead of us, and we were going to take on the world. Well, she would anyway. I never wanted more than the garage and this town.
But some things haven't changed. Maggie's still the strongest person I know, and I'm still right here beside her, ready to face whatever comes next.