In the meantime she was going to be the scandal of Skogen, and she was going to ruin his last chance to get a loan. He should be furious. But he wasn’t. He understood about crazy ideas and substituting enthusiasm for expertise. And he was head over heels in love with her.
He rapped on the doorjamb to get her attention. “I brought you some lunch,” he said.
She put her hand to her heart. “You startled me!”
“Mmmm. You look pretty wrapped up in this. How’s it going?”
“Great! I’ve researched and planned this book for two years, and it’s practically writing itself. I’ve had it all in my head, you see-” She bit into the egg salad sandwich. “Probably when I get farther into the book it’ll slow down, but it’s so satisfying to finally see it on the screen.”
“Do I get to read it?”
“When I’m farther along.” She wolfed down her sandwich, drank her iced tea, and wiped her mouth. “That was good. Thanks. I didn’t realize I was so hungry.”
Hank took the plate and the empty glass. “Elsie’s going into town. She wants to know if you need anything.”
“Nope. I’m fine.”
He hated to leave her. He wanted to stay and talk and learn about all the horrible things she did as a kid. He wanted to know if she was ever afraid or lonely or discouraged. He wanted to know about the men in her life and how she felt about babies. He searched for an excuse to prolong lunch.
“Would you like dessert? Elsie made chocolate chip cookies this morning.”
“I’m absolutely stuffed. Maybe later.”
“Okay, ’bye.”
It was six o’clock and Elsie was bustling around the kitchen. “We got chicken soup for supper tonight,” she said, slapping plates and bowls onto the kitchen table. “There’s corn bread in the oven and chocolate pudding in the refrigerator for dessert.”
Hank looked at the two place settings. “Aren’t you eating with us? Is there something good on television again?”
“I got a date. I met this nice young man in town today. He don’t look a day over sixty-five. We’re going to get a burger, and then he said there’s a bingo game in Mount Davie.”
Hank mentally reviewed all the old men in town. “Is this Ed Garber?”
“Yup. That’s him. Said he was the postmaster until he retired, and that his wife had died three years ago.”
“Better watch out,” Hank said. “I hear he only has one thing on his mind.”
“Lord bless him, and he likes to play bingo too. Life don’t get much better than that.”
Elsie took her apron off and put it in a drawer. “I saw that Linda Sue at the supermarket today. She was checking out groceries, and I tell you she could put a newspaper right out of business. Everywhere I went in town people were talking about you getting married to a dirty book writer. I wouldn’t hold my breath for that loan. Your reputation’s about as good as snake spit.”
“She’s not a dirty book writer. She’s writing about her Aunt Kitty.”
Elsie looked skeptical. “Don’t get me wrong. I like Maggie. She’s got something to her. And if I were you and had to make a choice, I’d take Maggie over an apple press any day of the year.”
Hank smiled at her. “You’re a pretty smart lady.”
“You’d better believe it, and I’m in good shape for being so old too.”
She took her purse from the counter when Ed Garber knocked at the front door.
“You’d better go pull Maggie’s nose out of that computer and get her down here while the corn bread’s hot. And it wouldn’t hurt to do something with her after supper. It isn’t natural for a body to sit that long. All her insides will get cramped up. I once knew someone who sat all day like that and nature never could take its course. Before you know it, you’re taking prunes and milk of magnesia when all you ever needed in the first place was to go for a walk once in a while.”
Ed Garber looked in at Hank. “Howdy,” he said. “Nice day.”
“Yup. Good weather for growing apples.”
“You still growing them organic? Don’t you have more than your share of rot?”
“I have to work at it, but so far they look fine,” Hank said.
“I should stop around sometime and see how you do it. I’ve got an apple tree in my backyard that’s plain pitiful.”
Hank closed the screen door on Elsie and Ed, and went upstairs after Maggie.
“Elsie says you have to come down to supper while the corn bread’s hot,” he told her. “And she says your insides will cramp up if you sit here much more. Then nature won’t be able to take its course, and you’ll have to eat prunes.”
Maggie finished typing a sentence and saved her file. “You sound skeptical, but she’s probably right.”
“I’m supposed to make sure you get exercise.”
Maggie shut the computer down. “I could use some exercise. We could go for a walk after supper.”
“That was my second choice.”
She wasn’t going to ask him about choice number one. “Would it hurt the apple trees if we walked through the orchard?”
“Nope. It’s crisscrossed with truck paths.”
In the kitchen Maggie ladled out the soup and took the corn bread from the oven. They sat across from each other in companionable silence while they ate.
“This is nice,” she finally said. “I always hated eating supper alone. Sometimes I’d set the table and fuss with a meal, but most of the time I stuck a frozen burrito in the micro wave and ate standing up.”
He grinned at her. “Does your mother know that?”
She laughed. “My mother is afraid to ask. And if my mother’s neighbor Mrs. Ciak ever found out…” Maggie shook her head. “My mother would be disgraced forever.” She buttered another piece of corn bread.
“At night, in my parents’ neighborhood, no one draws the shades downstairs. It would mean that you didn’t want anyone to see in. People would speculate that your house wasn’t clean. And all the women have dryers, but they still hang sheets outdoors because if you don’t someone might think your sheets weren’t white enough to be seen. I know it sounds silly, but it makes me feel claustrophobic. All those unwritten rules. All those comparisons. And as much as I tried, I could never fit my square peg into Riverside ’s round hole. I guess I was too stubborn.”
“I notice you’re using that in the past tense.”
Maggie chewed her corn bread. “I’m better now.” Hank raised his eyebrows and Maggie laughed. “You’re right, I’m still stubborn. But being stubborn can be good when you’re an adult. Now I like to think of myself as having tenacity, strength of conviction, and character.”
Hank pushed away from the table. He went to the refrigerator, took out two puddings, and gave one to Maggie. “Is that why you wanted to come to Vermont? To get away from the white sheets and open windows?”
“I wanted to make a new beginning. I needed to be anonymous.”
Hank averted his eyes and dipped his spoon into his pudding. It sounded to him like she’d jumped from the frying pan into the fire. Skogen was the gossip capital of the free world. He was sure every person in town knew what Maggie had worn last night, what she’d eaten, and what she’d said. And they were judging her. Riverside wasn’t the only town where sheets were hung out to dry. It wasn’t something he wanted to tell her right now. She’d find out soon enough for herself. And if she gave the town half a chance, she’d find out it had some redeeming qualities too.
They cleaned the kitchen and set out for their walk with Horatio trotting close on their heels. There was still plenty of sunlight so Hank headed south, taking a truck path that crossed the longest stretch of his property. It was July and the trees were thick with immature apples.