The Meaning of Maggie (16 page)

She took a deep breath and tears welled in her eyes, turning her blue mascara into an ocean.

“Is that my Danny?”

Dad wheeled closer and pinched her tush.

“Yep, that's my Danny!” she yelped. “What do you say? Are you ready to get hitched? Again?!”

Donny came in next and he didn't say much but he high-fived all of us, which was totally weird. He put their bags on the floor and they immediately made our whole house smell like the Renaissance festival. I snooped around their stuff and took in every detail just in case I needed to explain anything to the police.

Donny set a banjo against the wall and Phyllis pulled something wrapped in a scarf out of her bag. It might have been a gun, so I closed my eyes and mentally prepared for the end. But nothing happened, and when I opened my eyes she was holding out a giant egg with a painting on it.

“This is for your daddy. He always wanted me to paint him a wolf howling at the moon.”

“Did you make this?”

“I sure did. It's one of my babies.”

I mumbled “cool,” but I nervously wondered if this woman laid eggs. Sure, scientifically, physically, and anatomically it wasn't possible, but you never knew, especially with this weirdo. I would have asked Dad, but he probably wouldn't have told me for another ten years.

Donny fixed the grown-ups Coca-Colas with more than Coca-Cola in them. Dad told us to clean up outside for the ceremony, so Layla, Tiffany, and I wandered into the backyard.

I still didn't really get what was happening. I mean they were already married. They didn't need to get married again. That's like taking a test twice, although I wasn't opposed to taking tests twice.

I picked up some sticks and pinecones and threw them over the fence. I'd forgotten how big our backyard was. Great, even more places to hide a body. I pulled a few weeds and then I heard everyone come outside.

Dad was looking at Donny's motorcycle all wide-eyed.

“What do you say, Danny?” Donny asked with a nudge. “How about a ride?”

Tiffany's extra-bad-kid side kicked in. “Yes, Dad! Do it!”

“Saddle me up!” Dad shouted.

I was clearly the only sane person in the family. “No way!” I protested. “You could crash and break a femur, tibia, fibula, patella, or any of the other two hundred and six bones.”

“Let's just make sure my face is okay. I like my face.” Dad winked at me.

Donny handed him a helmet and laughed. “In that case, you'll be needing this.”

I really didn't want him to go. I grabbed Mom's hand in solidarity but she dropped it so she could position Dad's chair right next to the motorcycle while Donny took his place behind the handlebars. The whole thing was terrifying, so I tried to hold Tiffany's hand out of desperation but she shook her hand away because she's the meanest girl alive. And then out of nowhere Phyllis grabbed my hand and held it tightly and for the first time all day, I didn't feel like I was going to get murdered.

Mom counted to three and hoisted Dad up onto the motorcycle seat. He pulled his sleeping legs on either side of the motorcycle and wrapped his arms around Donny's waist. Phyllis let go of my hand and wound bungee cords around Dad and Donny until they were
one body with four arms and two heads. And then Donny stepped on a pedal and then a big engine roared and then Dad yelled some curse words and Mom shouted, “Bring him back in one piece please! We're getting married tomorrow!”

Dad threw a peace sign as they took off down the road toward only God knows where.

While they were gone, I beat Layla at UNO, Phyllis French braided Tiffany's hair, and Mom held her breath staring out the window. Finally a headlight bounced off the wall. We ran outside and watched Dad, Donny, and the motorcycle purr into the driveway.

As soon as Dad was unbungeed from Donny, he collapsed into Mom's arms. She had to set him up in his chair because he was all dangly like a rag doll. I don't know where they'd gone but Dad smelled like trees and sweat and fireflies and rock 'n' roll if rock 'n' roll had a smell.

He lifted up his shirt. “See how tough these marks from the bungee cords make me look?”

Phyllis cranked up the stereo so I had to yell over the music. “Oh man, does it hurt?” But Dad didn't hear me. All anyone could hear was some lady screaming something about buying her a Mercedes-Benz.

We ate dinner and Mom rushed us off to bed without dessert, which wasn't cool because dessert was the only reason I ate dinner. Tiffany and I got into our beds while Layla slid into the sleeping bag on the floor and Mom
quickly wished us good night, turned out the lights, and shut the door. Geez, she could have at least pretended like she cared about us.

The next morning, the most amazing smell in all the land woke up my nose and carried my whole body into the kitchen. Could it be? Certainly it wasn't peach pie baking. Not so early. But I peered into the oven and sure enough, it was there, the most perfect peach pie bubbling over.

“Smells amazing, right?”

“YES,” I answered without breaking my gaze with the perfect pie.

“I think she's about ready. Let's get her out.”

It was only then that I realized I had been talking to Phyllis, not Mom. She must have been making it for the wedding.

Defeat settled on my shoulders. “It looks amazing. It will be hard to wait for it.”

“Don't be silly, little one! This pie is for breakfast!”

PIE FOR BREAKFAST! Maybe she wasn't a murderer. Maybe she was the most amazing woman ever!

Phyllis grabbed a potholder and opened the oven door. My nose followed the pie all the way to the counter.

“Can we eat it right now?”

“Let's wait for it to cool a little. I'll get the ice cream.”

Pie AND ice cream FOR BREAKFAST? I ran down the hall and woke up my sisters.

“Eyes open, ladies! We're having pie AND ice cream for breakfast!”

They moaned and groaned and didn't move an inch. Whatever. Their loss. I knocked on Mom and Dad's door.

“Parents! Wake up! There's pie FOR BREAKFAST!”

I didn't hear a peep. What was wrong with these people? I had the human decency to share probably the greatest news we were ever going to get as a family and they couldn't have cared less. But I didn't have time to dwell on their nonsense, I had pie to eat.
⁶⁰

I was already on my second slice when the Mayfield family finally joined my new best friends Phyllis and Donny at the table. Dad looked like he'd been hit by a truck. And he smelled weird. So I said, “You smell weird.”

“Well, you look weird.”

“Hey! You're not allowed to say stuff like that. You're my dad!”

He clutched his forehead. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just have the worst headache.”

Mom handed him some aspirin and a slice of pie. “This should help. I see you've made a couple of friends, Maggie.”

“Oh we're big fans.” Phyllis smiled.

“She already lobbied me for my vote and everything,” Donny said.

“It's important to get to know your constituents,” I explained.

Mom took a piece of pie too, which was very un-Mom-like. “Well, I expect to see all of you on the dance floor later.”

I still didn't get it. “Why do you have to renew your wedding vows anyway? Did they expire?”

“No, no. It's just a nice thing to do,” Mom said.

“It's a nice way of reminding your mother she's stuck with me,” Dad added. “Forever.”

Mom disappeared down the hall and came back with two fancy dresses I'd never seen before. “Here you go,” she told Layla and Tiffany. “You're going to be my bridesmaids.”

They
oohed
and
aahed
and disappeared into the bathroom to try them on.

Dad wheeled next to me and handed me a bow tie. “And you're going to be my best man, Maggie.”

“I am not a boy! First you say I look weird and then you think I'm a boy?! What is wrong with you people?!”

“Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean best man. I meant best daughter. Will you be my best daughter?”

“I hate bows, you know,” I said as I grudgingly took the tie.

“What's wrong with bows?”

Mom answered before I could. “
Everything
.”
⁶¹

The wedding wasn't a big to-do or anything. We weren't even going to a church. We stayed at our house. Dad had hired someone to come do the ceremony. I thought that would mean a priest. But Dad had hired an Elvis impersonator who just happened to also be an ordained minister.

Layla, Tiffany, and Mom were taking forever in the bathroom getting ready and Phyllis and Donny had borrowed the car to pick up the cake at the bakery. So Dad and I watched the news while we waited in our ties.

I shook my head. “Can you believe this oil crisis?”

“Are you sure you're only eleven?”

“I know. I can't believe it either.”

Layla and Tiffany emerged from the bathroom in their fancy new dresses humming “Here Comes the Bride” and Mom emerged with a big
ta-da
in the most beautiful white dress with her most beautiful red hair swept around her most beautiful freckled face.

Dad whistled and I ran to hug her.

“You look like frosting.”

“Thank you. I think,” Mom laughed.

Tiffany pried me away. “Don't lick her.”

Phyllis and Donny arrived with the cake at the same time as a pink Cadillac pulled into the driveway. It was my duty as best daughter to escort pretend Elvis to the backyard where he was to marry Mom and Dad under a big oak tree we'd decorated with crepe paper bells. Then
I took my place next to Dad with Mom and Dad's rings, which were still warm from their hands.

When Elvis pushed Play on the boom box, Layla walked down the aisle, followed by Tiffany, and then Mom appeared, escorted by Phyllis and Donny. We all gathered around them and Dad grabbed Mom's hand and Mom leaned over and kissed him even though you're not supposed to do that until the pretend Elvis pronounces you man and wife but I guess it was okay since they were already man and wife.

The pretend Elvis began, “Do you take this man to be your husband, for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, and do you promise to make him your only hunka hunka burning love forever?”

Mom laughed. “I do.”

Pretend Elvis kneeled next to Dad's chair. “Do you take this woman to be your wife, for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, and do you promise to make her your earth angel from here to eternity?

“Of course.” Dad's voice cracked. He was taking this really seriously. “I do.”

I gave them their rings and then some other stuff happened that included more kissing and then there was CAKE! From my favorite bakery! The cake had a tiny man and woman on top that you couldn't eat which I knew because I tried and almost lost a tooth.

But I recovered and ate more cake while Layla and Tiffany talked about their weddings and how they would be huge and spectacular and rich and I could see Dad doing math in his head.

I was carefully constructing the perfect bite of cake that was 90% frosting and 10% cake when I asked, “Was your first wedding as cool as this one?”

Mom took the rest of the cake away because she knew when to cut me off. “Our first wedding was great. Your father wore a white tux and platform shoes because he is ridiculous. And a friend made my dress and we danced to Gladys Knight and Eric Clapton and then your father's friends wrote something in shaving cream on our car that they shouldn't have.”

I scraped the last microscopic piece of frosting from my plate. “What did they write?”

Dad shook the ice in his glass and opened his mouth but I interrupted.

“I know, I know. You'll tell me in ten years.”

Layla pushed the rest of her cake toward me. “What do you remember, Dad?”

Dad took the last sip from his glass and time traveled. “I remember your mother looking like a knockout. Just beautiful. And I remember a lot of dancing and shaking a lot of hands and smiling so hard my face hurt and I remember the punch. And then I don't remember much after the punch.”

I turned to Phyllis and Donny. “What do you guys remember?”

Phyllis laughed. “Not much more than your dad.”

Donny said, “We had the punch too.”

“Well, I'll always remember this wedding,” I vowed. “And this cake.”

“Oh well, it's not over yet, sweetie. Don't you know what happens next?” Mom asked.

“More cake?!” I hoped.

“Even better.” Mom beamed. “A honeymoon.”

The best thing about Mom and Dad's honeymoon was that it wasn't just for Mom and Dad. They were taking us along too! And we were going to the beach! In Florida! We said our good-byes to Phyllis and Donny and a few days later the house was abuzz with the busyness of packing.

I shoved my swimsuit and fifteen books into my suitcase and I was Florida-ready. We left extra early in the morning so Dad would have time to hang with his friends at the airport before we took off. I checked one bag and Mom checked the food bag, her bag, and Dad's bag and then Layla and Tiffany checked their entire wardrobes. I didn't understand why their suitcases were so big when their clothes were so small, but whatever.

We said a million hellos to a million people and I was told I looked “just like Dad” a million times, which was really starting to bother me. I didn't have a mustache!
I didn't have glasses! I wasn't a dude! I was a girl and everyone needed to just deal with it! Anyway, we finally got on the plane and buckled up and an hour and fifteen packs of pretzels later, we landed in Orlando.

A shuttle took us to our hotel, where my sisters immediately changed into their teeny swimsuits and headed for the pool. Mom lathered me up in SPF 9000 and then I put on a giant shirt, picked up a book, and looked for the biggest umbrella I could find.