41. Maggie
MAGGIE
There is no one at the bar in the Wooden Duck, and the place is quiet.
The darts are neatly stuck in the center of the dartboard, and the pool balls are racked up in a perfect triangle.
Rhonda looks around and shrugs. “Someone will be along soon,” she says.
“But ’til then.” She motions for Maggie, and she takes a cue stick.
Maggie thinks of Elliot and what happened this morning.
She hopes he isn’t on today. She’s not ready to see him again.
“Oh, I’ve never played,” said Maggie.
“Well, I’ll teach you then.” Rhonda grabs the small square of chalk and rubs it on the end of her stick.
She plucks the cue ball and shows Maggie how to lean in, how to aim, how to try for the pockets.
Maggie sinks her first shot. “Beginner’s luck,” Rhonda says.
They take turns, and the sound is satisfying.
Taffy walks by, poking her head in, and then she proceeds down the steps.
Someone is behind the bar, and Maggie holds her stick and tenses, thinking Elliot’s about to appear, but instead, it’s Phil.
He comes out and looks worried when he sees Rhonda.
He immediately gets to work and brings her a glass of white wine.
Then Maggie notices a Shirley Temple on the tray next to it.
She looks at him with a puzzled face. “Elliot has it on the preferred drink list.”
She takes it from him and looks down. She holds the glass and drinks from the straw, and it tastes perfect. Sweet and fizzy and cold. She imagines Elliot’s handwriting with her name by the drink, and something melts inside her.
“Could we order some lunch?” Rhonda says, and Phil nods and smiles at them. Rhonda gets French onion soup, and Maggie gets a chicken salad sandwich, and they knock those balls across the billiard table, until just one is left. Maybe Maggie imagines it, but she thinks Rhonda is letting her win.
“Darn wrist of mine,” she says, her face straight. “Your turn,” she says, clapping as Maggie shoots another ball into the corner pocket.
When their lunch comes and Phil refills Maggie’s Shirley Temple, Rhonda switching from wine to iced tea, Maggie pulls out a piece of paper she worked on last night. She clears her throat and feels a bead of sweat glide down her back. “Now, I hope this isn’t too forward of me.”
Rhonda stretches the Swiss cheese in her soup crock and blows on it to cool it off. She pours some sugar in her iced tea and stirs it with the long spoon. “I’ve never seen you be too forward. You have lovely manners.” She smiles. “You and your brother.”
Maggie holds the triangle of her sandwich. She looks at the perfect tomato, the crisp lettuce. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping, but I overheard you and some of the others in your office talking about the business. The troubles, I mean.”
Something flashes across Rhonda’s eyes, and Maggie thinks this is a mistake. This woman has been nothing but generous to her, and she thinks she should stop, but instead she hears herself keep talking. “I know it’s probably a sensitive topic…”
Rhonda shifts in her seat. She takes a breath, and Maggie decides her only option is to continue until she makes her point. And then she’ll apologize and ask for forgiveness.
She spreads her paper out in front of her.
“I came up with a few ideas that might bring in more people. I thought we could target a more regular non-guest crowd with weekly events.” She glances at Rhonda and sees she’s not angry.
She looks interested, so Maggie points out the items on her list. “A weekly trivia night at Wooden Duck. I mean, a lot of places do this, but getting people here and seeing what a grand place it is…” Maggie waves the paper.
“And what about a piano bar? Bridget is so talented. I mean, we could even just set up seats in the lobby. And, oh, this one. You said your girls liked to garden.” She pauses and looks at her with a careful expression.
“I thought we could set up a garden in their names. Right by the orchard maybe. In summers, guests could tour it and eat the food we grow there. Guided hikes, holiday horse-drawn sleighs?” Maggie realizes she’s talking a mile a minute, and she looks into Rhonda’s eyes. She has her complete attention.
“Don’t go in the direction the others are going in—the tacky stuff.
The heart-shaped tubs and cheesy comedians and all that.
Double down on what makes this place one of a kind.
Its opulence. Its timelessness. Open it up to singles, to families.
What about office parties? So many businesses would probably love to have conferences here.
” She takes a breath. “If we look beyond the world of weddings and honeymoons, there’s a lot we can do.
” Even if Rhonda hates all of it, Maggie is proud of her ideas.
Rhonda holds her soup spoon. “We?” she says.
“What?”
“We.” She reaches over and taps Maggie’s hand.
“I love that you are saying ‘we.’ I know I have Jacob, and such a wonderful crew here, but sometimes I feel so alone.” She blinks a few times.
“Your ideas.” She looks into Maggie’s eyes.
“They’re golden. I don’t want you to worry about any of this, but I think you’re right.
I think if we bend to expectations and start with those silly hot tubs, we’ll hit a false note.
We’ve been couples-only because it used to work for us, but we have to adjust with the times. ”
Rhonda rests her chin on her hand and looks up at the ceiling, and Maggie can tell she’s thinking.
“There are possibilities I hadn’t even considered if we’re no longer exclusively for couples.
I mean”—she holds out her hand—“family ski packages. Singles weekends.” Her eyes shine.
“Movie nights in the barn.” She clasps her hands together. “Wait until I tell Paige about this.”
Maggie finally starts to eat her sandwich. It tastes perfect, like something her grandmother would make.
“Now,” Rhonda says. “I want to be clear, you’re welcome here as long as you like, and to take a bow when your ideas are a success, of course.”
“Oh, thanks.” Maggie feels her cheeks redden.
Rhonda puts up her hand. “But I also want to make sure you’re thinking about what’s best for your future.”
Maggie shrugs. She reaches for her drink and thinks again of Elliot’s list. She feels something dampen in her. “Sometimes I feel guilty that I get to have a future,” she says, and she realizes she’s never admitted that.
“You and me both,” Rhonda says. “But we’re here. We’re the ants that were left behind.”
“What if I get what he got?” Maggie says, looking down at the other half of her sandwich. She realizes she’s been so afraid of that possibility. When May and June came and she didn’t get sick, she was startled. She almost always did things exactly one year after her brother.
The look on Rhonda’s face reassures her. “I’m so sorry you’re carrying that fear. When I first learned about Chip’s condition, I went to the library to learn more about it. I remember reading that twins have a higher risk, but between siblings, the chance is quite low.”
Maggie exhales. She feels relieved, but also guilty.
“We have to keep reaching for the good, as long as we can, don’t we? Your brother told me before I knew he was sick that if something happened to him, he’d be sad if his family wasn’t trying to be happy. That stayed with me.”
“I want to be a teacher,” Maggie blurts out. “I want to write children’s books, too. I think I have a lot to share with kids.”
“Then you’re going to take college classes in the fall. Boss’s orders. We’ll find a school that will be delighted to have you.”
Maggie feels a jolt of something, some excitement she hasn’t felt in over a year. “But part of me thinks I could just stay here forever,” she says, and Rhonda just smiles and nods.
Phil comes over and starts to clear their plates. Maggie helps him, and so does Rhonda. “None of us knows how to be a customer,” Phil says and laughs.
Rhonda touches the tray he’s holding. “Phil, do you have a story about Chip you can share with Maggie? They are always appreciated.”
Phil balances the tray and his lips form into a question. “Hmm, thanks for putting me on the spot, boss.” Maggie glances toward the window and realizes Taffy is now lying there and looking out at the golfers. Her tail wags every so often. Two guys have come in and started to rack up the pool balls.
“I know.” A goofy grin sprouts across his face. “Me and your brother.” He shakes his head. “We almost got ourselves killed. Did you know that?”