Maggie Bean Stays Afloat

by Tricia Rayburn

  “Is Arnie your boyfriend?”

  Maggie laughed.

  “He’s cute. And funny.”

  Watching the bar balance, Maggie nodded. “He is definitely both of those things.”

  “So is he?” Hannah looked at her and smiled, as though she knew something Maggie didn’t. “Your boyfriend?”

  “Nope, we’re just friends. Really good friends. Best friends, in fact.” She wasn’t sure why she felt the need to clarify so thoroughly, but she guessed it had something to do with the way Ben’s face sprang to mind at the term “boyfriend.”

  “I hope I have a boyfriend someday.” Hannah glanced quickly at the metal bar before looking down and sighing.

  “You will. I promise,” Maggie said gently, knowing the feeling all too well. She confirmed Hannah’s weight, marked it on the yellow piece of construction paper (less intimidating than a clipboard, but just as effective), and slid the square weights back to the end of the metal bar. “Okay, all set. Do you want to know what the scale said?”

  Hannah hopped off, put on her shoes, and looked at Maggie like she was joking.

  “Got it.” Maggie grinned and held up the silver cape for Hannah to duck under. “Great job. Can you send in Margo, please?”

  As Maggie continued the weigh-in, she noticed each kid seemed happier—and sweatier—than the one before. They were so excited to get back outside, it was all they could do to stand still long enough for the metal bar to adjust and Maggie to write down the number. When she’d recorded the very last weight, she emerged from the makeshift silver tent, carefully tucked the construction paper in a folder, put the folder in Arnie’s backpack (so there was no chance of accidental information sharing), and headed for the door at the back of the classroom.

  Arnie and the kids ran around the large courtyard, tossing, catching, and dropping the Frisbee. The parents stood at the edge of the lawn, talking and shaking their heads in wonder. Maggie guessed it was probably the first time they’d seen their children exercise in a very long time.

  “Okay!” Arnie caught the Frisbee and held on to it when he spotted Maggie in the doorway. “That was awesome. Let’s slow down, catch our breaths, and head back in.”

  “Pure genius,” Maggie whispered to Arnie as everyone filed into the classroom.

  He ruffled her hair and grabbed two cups of water from the snack table. “So,” he said after they’d reached the teacher’s desk and everyone else had taken their seats and quieted down. “Who likes candy? Cookies? Cake?”

  When the kids exchanged confused looks, silently asking one another if it was a trick question, Maggie shot one arm in the air. “Reese’s Pieces. Candy-coated peanut-butter pellets of bliss.”

  “I’m an Almond Joy fan, myself,” Arnie admitted, raising his hand. “Coconut, almonds—it’s like a chocolaty tropical vacation.”

  “I like Snickers, but my parents said I shouldn’t eat them,” Alex said, and pouted at his mom.

  “Well, why don’t you all head over to the snack table and pick out your favorite treat—the one thing you dream of when you want something sweet.”

  The kids stood uncertainly from their chairs and headed for the snack table. Five seconds later, they were much more relaxed as they sifted through the extensive selection and made their picks.

  “Great choices,” Arnie said when the kids returned to their seats. “Now, here’s what I want you to think about. Alex’s parents are right: There are much better, healthier snack choices out there than chocolate and cookies. But everything—even Snickers, Almond Joys, and Reese’s Pieces—is okay once in a while. The trick is to not eat two candy bars every day, but maybe one every week. So, I want you to take that candy home with you today and see if you can hold on to it until our meeting next week. If you can, and if you still want it by then, we’ll all eat together.”

  They spent the rest of the meeting talking about all their favorite foods, and why sometimes they craved pizza, and other times ice-cream sundaes. After a while, even the parents—who had seemed initially unhappy with the introduction of candy—chimed in with their favorite pasta dishes and accompanying wines (a tangent Arnie brought back to kid-friendly by talking about his love of Dr Pepper). They talked until it was time to go, and then a few minutes past then, since no one seemed in an especially big hurry to leave. When the classroom was finally empty, Maggie and Arnie flopped into two desk chairs, simultaneously exhilarated and exhausted.

  “Have I told you how amazing you are?” Maggie shook her head. “Frisbees, candy, the website … soon every kid in the neighborhood is going to want to join our little club, even if they don’t have any weight to lose.”

  “It’s a team effort. We’re a team.”

  “But you’re doing most of the work. What can I do to help?”

  “We’ll talk about it when we plan next week. To start, you can always add your photo slideshow and story to the website.”

  “Sorry.” Maggie winced. “I know I was supposed to do that.” She’d promised him last week that she’d have it done for this week. But that was before her life had taken a slight, unexpected detour.

  “It’s no big deal. But it’d be great for little girls to have a mature woman’s perspective.” He grinned.

  “I know. And I’ll get the pictures, I promise.”

  He tilted back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “We should celebrate.”

  “Celebrate?”

  “You and me. We should go out on the boat.”

  “Sure. That’d be great.”

  “How about this weekend?”

  Maggie paused. She’d already made plans to see a movie with Ben, Polly, and Jason on Friday, and to go shopping with Polly on Saturday. “I’m kind of busy this weekend.”

  “Oh. Okay. How about the weekend after that?”

  She chewed her lip. She didn’t have plans for the weekend after that, but wanted to keep it open, just in case. “Can we talk about it next week? I’m just not sure what my schedule’s like.”

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  Not sure why she was suddenly nervous, Maggie jumped from the chair and started collecting the leftover candy.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell Arnie about her new friends (she knew he’d be happy that the job was working out so well); she just didn’t feel like answering any questions the topic might bring. Besides, her life with Arnie was entirely separate from her life with Ben, Polly, and Jason. And right now, she wanted to keep it that way.

  20.

  Maggie’s arms cut through the cool water quickly and easily, and her legs propelled her forward almost automatically. Her breathing was steady as she finished a ninth lap, then a tenth. Swimming in the lake was definitely different from swimming in the chlorinated school pool (for many reasons, not the least of which being the slimy, stringy seaweed that grabbed at her limbs and the small schools of fish that flitted around her), but there was one thing that would always be the same, no matter where she swam: In the water, she was a stronger person.

  It had been true from the first time Aimee forced her into the pool before Water Wings tryouts. Maggie, then deathly terrified of being seen in her bathing suit in public, had found sweet relief in simply shielding her body from curious onlookers by getting in the water; the feeling was quickly replaced by intense exhilaration as she forgot about her embarrassment and actually attempted the crawl, then the backstroke, sidestroke, and every other stroke she could think of. That rush of energy had only grown when she joined the school swim tea m months later, and daily practices improved her technique, making her strokes crisper and kicks sharper. Now, just like anytime she’d been in water in the past year, the hardest part about swimming was stopping.

  It almost didn’t even matter that a boy waited for her on the beach.

  “Hey, Ariel!”

  Maggie finished an eleventh lap before slowing down and allowing her arms and legs to tread gently in the water. She looked toward shore, where Ben and Jason ha
d already completed their beach sprints.

  “The rug rats, including Erin, will be here soon, and your breakfast’s getting cold.” Ben lifted the brown paper bag that sat on the sand between him and Jason. “Even little mermaids need fuel to get through the day.”

  She grinned and paddled toward the beach. These morning workouts, which she’d been joining Ben and Jason for two or three times a week, had quickly become her favorite time of the day—besides when she hung out with Ben, Jason, Polly, and occasionally some of the other camp counselors after work, which had somehow become a regular occurrence over the past two weeks. She still wasn’t clear on whether Ben liked her as anything more than a friend—invitations to hang out at Polly’s, go to the movies, mini-golf, and shop were always thrown out casually, usually when they were cleaning the beach at the end of the day—but she was so thrilled to be included, she didn’t try too hard to figure it out.

  “Sorry.” She hurried out of the water, wrapped her towel around her waist, and flopped on the sand. “Cold fruit salad is the worst.”

  “You eat like a bird,” Jason said, tossing her the plastic container and fork. “Why do girls do that?”

  “I do not eat like a bird.”

  “Yes, you do. I practically pass out on the beach after swimming every morning and long for a respirator as my weak muscles quiver and shake. I need three bagels, four bananas, three oranges, and two Yoo-Hoos to keep going. You swim twenty miles, jog out of the water as easily as if you’d been sunning on a raft, eat a handful of grapes and strawberry slices, and are ready to go.” Jason shoved half a cinnamon-raisin bagel with cream cheese in his mouth. “I’m so glad I’m not a girl.”

  Maggie’s stomach grumbled quietly as she opened the fruit salad container. She was eating like a bird, it was true. If she’d been by herself after swimming like that, she’d devour granola, oatmeal, or whole wheat toast with peanut butter to satisfy her hard-earned hunger. But even though she knew no one would even notice, let alone have a clue as to her chocolate-coated past, she always requested the same small fruit salad when Ben asked for requests for the next day’s deli run.

  “We should go to Danger Nation this weekend.”

  Maggie silently thanked Ben for the subject change.

  “Life-threatening roller coasters, ten-dollar hot dogs.” Jason nodded. “I’m there.”

  “You in, Madge?” Ben elbowed her gently. “Saturday?”

  “I don’t think I can,” she said reluctantly. She’d love nothing more than the chance to get stuck at the very top of an enormous Ferris wheel with Ben—such fear-inducing, adrenaline-pumping moments always brought people closer—but amusement park visits were all-day affairs. And there was no way she could miss the weekly Patrol This meeting, especially since she’d been there in body but barely in mind the past few weeks. Arnie hadn’t noticed—or, if he had, he’d kept it to himself—but she still felt guilty.

  “But who will hold my hand on the scary rides?” Jason pouted. “And win me stuffed animals?”

  “Sorry, guys. I wish I could, believe me.”

  “Isn’t this cute.”

  They turned around to see Erin standing behind them, arms crossed over her chest.

  “Don’t mean to interrupt your little tea party—”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “But you might want to clean up this mess before the campers arrive in about thirty seconds.” She scowled at Jason.

  Not one to ignore authority figures—even cranky, unreasonable ones—Maggie jumped up, collected their empty wrappers and containers in the brown paper bag, and headed for the garbage can by the lifeguard stand.

  “Nice hustle, Bean,” Erin said sarcastically.

  “Bright and sunny as usual,” Maggie commented when Ben stood beside her.

  “Erin’s bed has no right side to wake up on in the morning.” He finished eating an apple and tossed the core into the trash.

  “Why not?”

  Ben leaned closer to her. “She kind of doesn’t have many friends. And she really hates that we’re all friends with each other.”

  “Oh.” Before she could ask why, or whether anyone had ever tried inviting her to join in an after-work activity, Ben grabbed her hand and led her gently down the beach.

  “What’re you doing? Where are we going?” Maggie glanced over her shoulder. “The campers really will be here any minute.”

  He quickened his pace and pulled her gently behind a beach boulder where no one could see them but the seagulls flying overhead. He shrugged his backpack from his shoulders, opened it, and pulled out a book.

  “Leonard Hawkins, cool.” Maggie immediately recognized the silver-haired author in turquoise bifocals from the reading on the back cover. “Did you finish it? Any good?”

  “You ask a lot of questions, Madge.” He smiled and handed her the book. “Open it.”

  Turning to the title page, Maggie gasped. “‘Dear Maggie. Happy reading. With best wishes, Leonard Hawkins.’”

  “Do you like it?”

  “When did you, how did you...?” She trailed off and stared at the small, neat handwriting.

  “I dragged Jason back to The Nook when Polly dragged you to Stella’s.”

  She looked at him. “For me?”

  He laughed. “Yes, for you.”

  “Well, thank you.” She shook her head and looked back at the inscription. “So much. I love it.”

  She held her breath when he suddenly took a step closer.

  “I had a great time with you that night, Madge. I have a great time with you, whenever we hang out. And I just wanted you to know.”

  Before Maggie could ignore her pounding heart long enough to raise her eyes to meet his, he gently pushed her damp hair away from her face, leaned forward, and kissed her cheek.

  “Come to Danger Nation Saturday,” he said softly, his face still close to hers.

  A thousand thoughts shot through her head—the Patrol This meeting, letting Arnie down, the fact that a boy had just kissed her (on the cheek, but still undeniable lip-to-skin contact), the fact that said boy was still so close, she could smell lake water and sunscreen—but only one word made it through her mouth. “Okay.”

  Three piercing whistles sounded suddenly down the beach, saving Maggie from struggling to say something else wittier and more charming.

  “Erin has spoken.” Grinning, Ben zipped his backpack and slung it on one shoulder. “Ready?”

  She had no idea what she was ready for right at that moment, but she clutched the book to her chest and managed to follow him back toward the lifeguard stand and the arriving campers.

  “We’ll talk more later,” he said when a dozen excited Freshwater Phantoms made a run for him.

  Maggie took advantage of the controlled chaos to return to the lifeguard stand and put the book in her backpack. Crouching down, she fiddled with the zipper longer than necessary to give her swirling head a chance to calm down so that it didn’t throw off her equilibrium and make her fall over when she tried to stand up. She thought she might have to squat there all day until she spotted her one saving grace walking across the sand.

  Aimee.

  Her head instantly clear, Maggie jumped up and hurried toward her best friend. They hadn’t really spoken since the disastrous phone call two weeks before (Maggie had left several unreturned messages, and they were both so busy at camp, they only managed to wave across crowds of people), but surely they could steal a few minutes to talk now. Maggie had just had her almost-first kiss, after all, and it was pretty much the rule of teenage girlhood that such momentous life-changing news be shared with the best friend first.

  “Hi, your royal highness,” Maggie said brightly, stopping just behind the Figure Eights. When Aimee didn’t turn around right away, Maggie tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Oh,” Aimee said. “Hey.”

  “How are you?”

  “Fine.”

  Maggie paused. Technically, they were speaking, but Aimee wasn’t smiling an
d hardly looked at her. “So, I see you’re Queen of the Day.” She nodded to the silver plastic tiara surrounding the top of Aimee’s blond ponytail.

  “Queen of the Week, actually. Maybe even the rest of the summer.”

  “Wow, impressive reign. Congratulations.” When Aimee turned slightly as though preparing to return to the group, Maggie touched her arm. “Can we talk for a minute? Alone?”

  “There are a hundred people on the beach.”

  “We’ll talk quietly.”

  “Don’t you have to get back to work? Don’t the other swim instructors need you?”

  “Aimee,” Maggie said gently. “Please?”

  Aimee’s face softened slightly. She whispered something to another Figure Eight, who looked at Maggie suspiciously, then led Maggie ten feet away from the crowd.

  “I feel like we haven’t really talked in forever.”

  “That’s because we haven’t.”

  “Well, can we stop the silliness?” Maggie asked hopefully. “Starting now?”

  Aimee looked down at her bare feet, then up at Maggie. “Sure,” she said, almost smiling.

  “Thank goodness.” Maggie sighed and gave Aimee a quick hug. “I have so much to tell you. You won’t believe what just happened, like, five minutes ago. Ben and I were hanging out by the lifeguard stand, not talking about much, and then all of a sudden he—”

  “Stop.”

  Maggie stopped. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t talk about this.” Aimee shook her head and shuffled back toward the Figure Eights.

  “Aim, wait.” As Maggie ran after her, she was struck by what probably should’ve been a very obvious thought. She caught up and grabbed Aimee’s hand. “Do you like Ben? Is that it?”

  Aimee’s mouth fell open and she stared at Maggie like Maggie had three eyes. Maggie gently let go of Aimee’s hand and watched her march back to her group.

  Apparently, that wasn’t it. Which meant that Maggie had no idea why her best friend in the whole world, the person who usually knew her better than she knew herself, didn’t want to talk to her.