Maggie...Is This Trip Really Necessary? (standard:romance, 5199 words)
Author: Bob Kain	Added: Sep 24 2000	Views/Reads: 4131/2712	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
I had known her what, two weeks? And now I was going to drive into a hurricane after her?

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


"Bob, instead of dinner, why don't you come to the game.  Maybe we could
go for ice cream afterwards?" 

This either had to be the most secure woman I had ever met, or she just
plain didn't give a damn what I thought of how she looked.  I was used 
to women that wouldn't go out of the house without first checking that 
every hair was in place and that their makeup was on perfectly.  This 
girl was inviting me to see her at what must certainly be her worst.  I 
knew I had to get a grip, but it was getting harder and harder. 

"That sounds great.  I'd love to see you play."  We spent a few more
minutes on the phone, getting the time and location of the game down.  
Then we said goodnight and she hung up the phone immediately.  She 
obviously wasn't one to linger over a goodbye.  We might have to work 
on that a little. 

Now, I just had one little job to do in preparation for tomorrow's
meeting with Maggie.  Two hours later, my task completed, I finished 
locking up the house and fell into bed. 

Game time, the next day, was six o'clock.  I made it with ten minutes to
spare.  There wasn't much of a crowd, and I found a seat right behind 
home plate.  Maggie's team, the Decorators, took the field first.  She 
spotted me as she took her position, giving me a rather enchanting 
smile and a little waggle of her fingers.  I returned the smile, and 
the waggle; then settled back to watch the game. 

This was a fast-pitch softball league.  I hadn't been expecting that. 
Fast-pitch is more intense and more difficult than slow-pitch.  It's 
especially harder for the catcher, because it's much easier for base 
runners to steal a base.  This might be even more interesting than I 
had thought. 

As the first batter came to the plate, Maggie slipped on her mask and
stepped in front of the plate, motioning to a couple of the outfielders 
to move in closer.  She was all business, and she gave every appearance 
of knowing just what she was doing.  Smiling to myself, I also noticed 
that her double knit uniform, chest protector and shin guards did 
little to hide the fact that she had a great body.   My preference had 
always been more towards women with less voluptuous bodies, but no 
one's perfect.  It was probably time for me to broaden my horizons a 
little anyway. 

It was a well-played and fast moving game, and to my delight Maggie had
been the star.  Along with gunning out two base runners attempting to 
steal second, she lined a double to left field to drive in the go ahead 
run in the last inning.  To cap it off, the final out of the game came 
amid a tremendous collision at home plate with an opposing player 
trying to run right through Maggie while attempting to score the tying 
run.  Maggie got knocked flat on her back, but holding the ball in her 
bare hand she thrust it into the air to show that she held onto it, the 
umpire called the final out and it was ice cream time. 

While Maggie's teammates crowded around to congratulate her and to brush
some of the dirt from her uniform, I stayed in my seat and took the 
time for a little last minute reflection on this date.   I had been 
excited all day long, looking forward to spending time with Maggie 
tonight.   We'd had only one other time together, and though it had 
been a splendid evening, it had been a chance encounter with no time 
for pre-date jitters.   Those jitters were now creeping up on me.  I 
didn't date all that much, and when we had been together before, Maggie 
had said that she rarely dated.  The fact that she had accepted my 
invitation for tonight so eagerly, together with the fact that she 
didn't date much, flattered me and confused me at the same time.   
Nobody had yet mistaken me for Cary Grant; I was about as close to an 
ordinary guy as one could get.  She was beautiful, enormously 
successful in her business and to top it off, she was taller than I 
was.   I had no idea why I appealed to her, but I had decided that it 
would be better to just enjoy it and not ask questions. 

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Maggie walking around the
backstop towards me.  Whatever I had said or done during that first 
meeting to catch her interest, I hoped it was something that came 
naturally to me, because I had no clue what it was.  I guessed that 
this came down to the old cliché... "just be yourself".   Thinking that 
cliches weren't a lot of comfort, I gathered myself up and headed to 
meet Maggie.   As she got near to me, a shy smile crept across her 
dirty, sweat streaked face.   Butterflies replaced the jitters in my 
stomach.   My heart did a little skip.   My brain said to be careful.   
My heart told my brain to shut up. 

"Hi, Bob!  Hope you weren't too bored with the game."  Hazel eyes
sparkled, and perfect, white teeth flashed as the smile broadened.  My 
heart dared my brain to say something. 

"Hi, Maggie.  The game was great, not boring at all.  Do we need to
stick around for you to sign autographs or should we go?" 

"We can go, Smart-ass", she laughed.   "Just give me a couple of minutes
to go to the ladies room to wash up a little and change my clothes, 
okay?" 

"Sure thing.  I'll get the car and meet you in a few minutes." 

Within just a couple of minutes of my return, Maggie came out wearing a
pair of well worn jeans and an oversized Notre Dame sweatshirt.  Her 
hair was pulled up loosely, a few wisps falling across her forehead and 
down her neck.  The streaks of dirt were gone, her face scrubbed clean. 
 She hadn't bothered with makeup and I couldn't see a single reason why 
she ever should.  As we drove off, my brain told my heart that it had 
been right all along. 

We had passed three ice cream stands and were now beyond the city
limits.  Maggie gave me a slightly puzzled look.  "I thought we were 
going for ice cream?   There aren't any stands in this direction." 

"I know a special place.   We'll be there soon, trust me." 

"Okay.  I won't bother telling you what happened to the last man that
said that to me." 

"Yeah, I appreciate that.    Sounds like it might ruin my appetite." 

In the middle of a curve, there was a small break in the woods lining
the right side of the road.  There, I turned off the highway onto to a 
narrow dirt road.  We bumped along between the trees for another 
hundred yards, then stopped at a small clearing that bordered on the 
river.   Maggie's face showed a slight apprehension when I came around 
to open her door.  I gave her my most reassuring smile, then popped the 
trunk, lifted out a cooler and led her toward the river. 

This was my favorite spot along the river.  Half a dozen large boulders
sat haphazardly at the edge of the water, causing a low gurgle as the 
easy current of the river flowed around them.  After sitting the cooler 
on the largest boulder, I scrambled up the side, then helped Maggie up. 
 We stood for a few moments, looking out over the river.   The sun had 
just gone down, the June sky was a blazing orange and yellow.  The air 
was cooling, but when we sat, we felt the sun's warmth still held by 
the rocks. 

"This really is a beautiful spot, Bob.  Too bad there isn't an ice cream
stand behind one of these trees.  I could really go for some, right 
now." 

Forcing back a smile, I opened the cooler and removed the results of my
little project of the night before. 

"This what you had in mind, Maggie?" I asked, producing two, one-quart
containers of home made ice cream.  "Fresh from the kitchen, made with 
my very own hands, with a little help from my handy dandy electric ice 
cream maker.  I didn't know what flavor you liked, so I made banana, 
which happens to be my favorite, and vanilla.  Figured everyone likes 
vanilla." 

"Oh my God! Home made banana ice cream.  I love banana ice cream!  Now,
if we just had some cones, I'd be in heaven." 

Again I opened the cooler.  This time pulling out two different boxes of
ice cream cones. 

"Regular...or waffle?" 

"You, Sir, have been reading my mind, and I don't mind telling you,
that's a little spooky," Maggie laughed.  "Waffle please, and don't be 
stingy with the ice cream." 

We sat on our rock, eating our ice cream, as the final glow of the
sunset gave way to dusk.  A cool breeze was coming across the water; 
the night would be chilly.  Maggie's body gave a little tremor as the 
wind blew over us. 

"Are you cold?   Would you like to go?" 

"I'm a little chilly, but it's so peaceful, and so pretty here.  I don't
want to leave just yet." 

Moving from my spot on the rock, I sat down behind her, my legs
stretched alongside hers, my arms circling her shoulders. 

"Warmer, now?"  Maggie didn't answer.  Taking my hands in hers, she
leaned back into my chest.  I tightened my arms around her, marveling 
to myself how natural it felt to hold her like this. 

As natural as it seemed to hold her, it seemed just as natural to talk,
to open up to her.   While we both watched the gentle current of the 
river, I found myself telling Maggie things I hadn't thought of in 
years.  I told her of growing up along this river. Of skinny-dipping 
with my buddies in the summer and playing ice hockey in the winter.  
Even telling her of coming here to play doctor with Mary Jo Kawinski, 
the little girl next door who had given me my first insights into the 
wonders of the female body. 

Maggie listened attentively to my stories.  When I told her the story of
Mary Jo, she turned her head to give me a contrived look of shock, then 
laughed and kissed me lightly on the cheek.  Beaming back at her, I 
could remember passionate kisses with other women that hadn't affected 
me as much as this little peck on the cheek from Maggie. 

When she spoke of her own life, her words came softly, and very
hesitantly.   I learned that her childhood had been much different from 
my own.  Without detail, she told me that she had lost her parents at 
the age of four.  The next twelve years had been spent living in one 
foster home or another.  At the age of sixteen, desperate to escape her 
latest foster home, but not telling me why, she had married a man of 
twenty-four.  They had been divorced four years ago.  Since then, 
Maggie had been on one date.  The one she had mentioned briefly in the 
car. 

While in her last foster home, she had formed and still maintained a
strong relationship with the couple's daughter, Lilly.  She looked upon 
her as a sister.   Lilly, her husband and their two children were all 
the family Maggie had, and she visited them at their beach front home 
in North Carolina as often as she could. 

Maggie's voice had trailed off.  Turning in my arms, her eyes searched
mine.  Fighting tears, she laid the fingers of one hand on my cheek.  
"Bob, I...I feel more comfortable here with you than I've ever felt 
with a man.  I don't really understand why.  I hardly know you, yet I 
feel like I've known you for years.    It's hard for me to tell you 
about my life.   There have been so many hurts, so many 
disappointments.  Everyone I ever trusted has hurt me, so I've come to 
not trust anyone.   I've learned to be alone and to be happy; but, 
still, it gets so lonely sometimes I can hardly bear it.   For whatever 
reason, I feel that I want to tell you about these things.  I don't 
know why, but I feel some kind of need to let you in; and yet, at the 
same time I'm frightened of doing that.  Sometime, if you want, I will 
tell you my story; but not tonight, I need more time.  Can you 
understand that?" 

Fighting down the lump in my throat, I cradled Maggie's face in my hands
and kissed her; a long, soft kiss.  I could taste the saltiness of the 
tears on her soft lips.  Our kiss broke.  I put my arms around her, 
pulled her tight and put my lips next to her ear. 

"Whenever you're ready to tell me, Maggie, I want to listen," 

It was now completely dark.  We had been just sitting there, not talking
any longer, holding on to one another.   When I asked if she was ready 
to leave, she nodded and gave me a sad, little smile.  I grabbed the 
cooler and we climbed down from our haven, returned to the car and 
drove back to town.  We had left Maggie's car at the ballpark.  I 
wanted to follow her, to make sure she got home safely.  She insisted 
that she would be fine, that it was too late to go that far out of my 
way.   I finally relented, but only after receiving her promise that 
she would call me the minute she got home, so that I would know she had 
made it safely.  We shared one more kiss.  Then she said goodnight, 
jumped in her car and drove off.   On the way to my car, I thought 
again that we needed to do some work on how quickly this lady said 
goodbye. 

When I walked in my front door, the light was flashing on the answering
machine.  I hit the button and heard that unforgettable voice. 

"Beat you home, slow poke.  I had a wonderful evening, Bob.  You're a
sweet man.  Goodnight."    I turned off the lights and went to bed, 
thinking that I could get used to that voice being the last thing I 
heard at night. 

The call came the next day at work, just as I came back from lunch.  It
was Maggie. 

"Hi, Bob.  How are you today?   Hope you slept well." 

"Hello, Maggie.  I slept just fine.  It's nice to hear from you." 

"I wanted to tell you again what a nice time I had last night.  And to
tell you that I'm going away for a few days." 

"It was a nice evening for me too.  Where you going...business trip?" 

"No, I'm going down to Lilly's.  You hear about hurricane Betty?  It's
in the Caribbean and they think it's going to head up the East Coast.  
Lilly and her husband lost everything a couple of years ago in a 
hurricane.  They say they're not leaving this time.  I'm going down to 
help them." 

"Jesus, Maggie, you have to be kidding.  You're going down to get in the
middle of a hurricane?  People normally go in the opposite direction of 
hurricanes.  How are you going to help?   You can't just throw your 
arms up in front of it and tell it to go away." 

"I know that, Bob.  But there are things to be done.   Windows have to
be boarded up, things moved to the second floor." 

'Maggie, they'll probably have all that done before you even get there. 
I wish you'd think about it this a little more." 

"I know this is hard for you to understand, but I won't let them go
through this alone.  I'm leaving in an hour." 

She obviously wasn't going to be talked out of this.  I hated the
thought of her doing this, but she sounded like she wanted my approval 
for some reason. 

"All right, Maggie.  You have to do what you feel is right, I guess.   I
think you're crazy, but I admire your loyalty.  Will you call me please 
when you get there?" 

"Thank you, Bob.  I'll call you as soon as I get there, I promise.  I am
a little nervous about it, but I have to do this.  Goodbye." 

I said goodbye and immediately heard the phone click in my ear.  We were
definitely going to have to work on her goodbye technique.  That pretty 
much took care of the rest of my day.  I couldn't concentrate on a 
thing.  All I could think of was Maggie hunkering down in a corner of a 
house, frightened out of her mind, as the roof blew off and the walls 
of the house came crashing down. 

She called again at nine o'clock.  Everything was fine there for now. 
The sun had been shining that day with only a calm breeze blowing.  So 
that I could keep updated on the Weather Channel, she gave me the 
location of the house.  It was out of town, near Morehead City, one of 
only three houses on that part of the beach.  I scribbled this 
information along with the phone number on a pad by the phone.  Maggie 
was exhausted from the long drive from Northern Maryland, so we said 
goodnight pretty quickly.  I spent the remainder of the evening 
catching up on my reading.  I have no idea what I read.  Something 
about a woman named Maggie, I think. 

Later I lay in bed, trying to sleep, but not able to.  My mind was
racing with thoughts of Maggie.  Why had she really gone to North 
Carolina?  Why was she so desperate to be there?   I didn't believe 
that she actually thought that Lilly and her family really needed her 
help.  There had to be another reason.  I thought about the few things 
that she had told me about her life; about losing everyone she had ever 
loved or had loved her.  An idea was forming, and after a few more 
minutes of thought, I believed that I had the answer.  She hadn't gone 
because she thought that Lilly's family needed her.  She had gone 
because she needed them.  They were the only family she had left.  It 
would be torture for her to sit at home wondering what was happening.  
The more I thought about it, the more certain I was that I was right.  
If something tragic should happen, she would rather be part of it than 
to be left completely alone.  She didn't think that she could bear 
another hurt. 

Maggie called again the next afternoon.   The windows were all boarded. 
Everything that could be moved had been moved.  All there was to do now 
was wait.  Hurricane Betty was definitely on her way.  Maggie was 
sitting right in her predicted path.  She said that it wasn't too bad 
yet.  The winds were only at 45 to 50 miles per hour, but it had 
started to rain pretty hard and the surf was six feet above normal. 

"Maggie, what is this house built of?" 

"It's a frame house with aluminum siding."  Jeez, just what I wanted to
hear. 

"And how far above sea level are you?" 

"Fifteen feet, if we're on the second floor.  This isn't helping a lot,
is it, Bob" 

"I would have rather heard brick, and fifty or sixty feet, Maggie.  But
I'm sure it will be all right.   I guess these people are used to these 
kinds of things.   Are you scared?  Have you thought that maybe you 
shouldn't have gone?" 

Maggie gave a soft chuckle, but there was strain in her voice.  "Yes,
I've thought that quite a few times, but I'm still glad I came.  I'm 
not frightened, but I am a little nervous.  The weather radio says it's 
supposed to hit tomorrow morning, and that it may be worse than they 
originally thought.  The wind is blowing pretty hard, and I'm sure it's 
going to get scary when we lose the electricity.  I'll be all right, 
Bob, don't worry.   I have to help Lilly with dinner.  I'll try to call 
again, later.  Goodbye." 

"Goodbye, Maggie."   I heard the expected, immediate click. 

Again, I was useless the rest of the day at work.  Most of the time was
spent pacing outside, smoking cigarettes.  Maggie had been lying to me, 
I was sure of it.   She was frightened, very frightened.  Hurricane 
Betty had ripped hell out of the Caribbean.  It was of lesser force 
now, but it still was capable of causing devastating damage to the 
beach areas as it crawled up the coast. 

My mind kept forming ghastly pictures of crumpled homes, floodwater
flowing past the roofs of other homes, people stranded on rooftops and 
in small boats.  Thinking of Maggie being trapped like that, 
frightened, possibly alone, was too much.  I went into the boss's 
office, leaned on his desk and told him that I needed a few days off 
for personal reasons.  We had been friends for years.  He took one look 
at my face and said to take whatever time I needed.  I could tell him 
about it sometime, if I wanted.  I thanked him and left immediately.   
Racing home, I went over in my head the things I would need to take.  
It was about a seven-hour drive to Lilly's home.  If I was to get there 
before the hurricane, I needed to hurry. 

Forty-five minutes later I had left my house and was on the interstate
headed for North Carolina.  I had considered calling Maggie to tell her 
I was coming, but discarded the idea.   She would pitch a fit at the 
idea, and insist that I not take the risk.  When she called later this 
evening she would probably wonder where I was and maybe be worried.  
Well, she would just have to worry.  I would be there soon and then 
there would be bigger things for both of us to worry about. 

As I continued to drive, my mind argued with itself about the wisdom of
my decision.  What the hell was I doing?   Why on earth was I driving 
into a hurricane to be with someone I'd spent a total of about seven 
hours with?  The answer was as obvious as it was crazy.  I had fallen 
in love with Maggie.  How could I fall in love with someone that 
quickly?   I was no teenager.  I didn't fall in love overnight.  This 
had never happened to me before.  It was just nuts.   But even crazier, 
I knew that she felt it too.  She wanted me with her, but couldn't ask 
that of me.  I wanted to be with her...needed to be with her, and I 
knew that I couldn't let her go through this without me. 

Rain blew even harder now against the windshield.  Never had I seen
anything like this, and the hurricane wasn't even due to hit for 
another six hours.  I had been on the road for over seven hours, off 
the interstate for an hour.  I should be getting close.  Up ahead, 
through the driving rain, I saw flashing lights.  As I got closer I saw 
that the lights were sitting on top of a barricade, evidently set up to 
block a side road that I assumed led to the beach.  Police had probably 
been manning the roadblock at one time, but nobody was around now.  
What fool would be driving in this weather for them to stop?  The road 
sign was bending in the wind.  I had to stop in the middle of the road 
in order to read it.  Flounder Road.  This was it, the road that led to 
Lilly's house.  It was only a mile away.  I drove around the barricade 
and headed on through the rain. 

It was a beach road, mostly sand.  Huge holes and ruts had been carved
out by the intensity of the storm.  I bounced and jolted slowly along, 
thinking that the underbody of the car might fall off at any time.  It 
occurred to me that Maggie and the family had probably gone to bed and 
were likely to be asleep.  With the noise of the storm it was possible 
that I wouldn't be able to wake anyone to answer the door.  After 
fumbling with the cellular phone I kept in the car, I dialed the number 
Maggie had given me and prayed that the phones were still working. 

On the second ring, the phone was picked up and thankfully I heard
Maggie's voice.   "Hello?" 

"Maggie, it's me.  I'm coming down." 

"Bob Stone, you most certainly are not.  It's terrible down here." 

I was almost to the end of the road; I could see the houses sitting off
to the right. 

"I'm coming down, Maggie.  Don't argue with me." 

"Bob, no!  Damn it, you can't!  I love you!  I'll not have you getting
in an accident in this storm and lose you.  What if something happened 
to you while you were here?  I'd never forgive myself.   You cannot 
come down here." 

Maggie's car was parked beside the second house.  The storm shutter on
one window was open.  Through the window, in a dim light, I could see 
Maggie pacing across the room, yelling into a cordless phone. 

"Maggie, I know you love me.  I love you, too.   Don't you think you
should close the shutter on that window?  Hello?  Maggie?   Hello?"  
The phone had gone dead. 

The door to the house flung open.  Maggie came racing through it, her
nightgown streaming behind her.  I opened the car door and stepped out 
into the torrential rain.  When I turned from closing the door, Maggie 
leapt on me, throwing her arms around my neck, almost knocking me down. 
My arms went around her, lifting her off the ground. 

"You fool, you crazy fool!   I could just kill you, but I'm so glad that
you're here.  God, I love you!" 

I started walking towards the house, carrying her with me.  "Maggie?" 

"Yes?" 

"Can we go inside?  It's kind of wet out here."  She laughed crazily and
let go of my neck as I put her back on the ground.   Taking my hand, 
she led me through the door.   We stood in the kitchen, soaked through 
to the skin.  Her nightgown clung tightly to her skin.  Through the 
wet, sheer material, her entire body was clearly visible to me.  There 
was a hurricane on the way; it would be here soon.   But it didn't 
sound so bad right now.  There were other things to occupy my mind. 

"Where is everyone?" I asked. 

"In bed, sleeping."  She took my hand and held it to her breast.  I
moved against her, felt her heat warm my hand; then felt her body 
quiver ever so slightly as I kissed her. 

"Come upstairs," she murmured.  "I have something I want to show you. 
And tomorrow, after we're done, I have a story I want to tell you." 

Kain - 22 

Robert L. Kain		Work Count - 5175 RR2, Box 860	                         
                                                             (  Robert 
L. Kain New Bloomfield, PA  17068 717-234-8888 / 717-582-7493 


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