Chapter Two

Maggie laid her hand against the sun-warmed headstone, her fingers running lightly over the engraving. "In memory of a loving father who will never be forgotten". Her eyes blurred with tears as they always did when his memory came to her, his laughter, the security she'd found with him, his selfless concern for her. How she missed him!

Standing close to her, Joe offered what little comfort he could, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close. "I know it's hard, Maggie," he said softly, "if it's any consolation, I miss him too. He was a good friend."

She turned in his embrace. "Actually, it does help. I know how much he cared for you as well."

She slipped from his arms and kneeling down, placed a simple arrangement of tulips on the headstone. The sweet fragrance of the flowers recalled her back to a time when she was small, when life had been good and free from worry, knowing her father was the hero she could always depend on to save her from things that frightened her.

Four-year-old Maggie sniffed suspiciously at the flowers pop extended towards her. He had told her tulips smelled really good, but the only flowers she'd ever stuck her nose in had brought on sneezing fits and watery eyes. "Your mother loved tulips, Maggie," he coaxed, hoping the mention of the mysterious mother she'd never known might persuade her.

She had finally given in, although she kept an arm's length distance away from them. She drew the scent in to her lungs, waiting for the allergic reaction that was sure to follow. When nothing happened, she inhaled again. Her eyes widened in surprised pleasure. These flowers didn't make her sneeze. "You were right, pop!" she exclaimed jubilantly, "These flowers smell good."

"What did I tell you," he said, smiling, "they smell nice, and they're pretty, just like you."

She giggled at the praise but was inwardly pleased. "We'd better put them in some water," he told her, "tulips don't last very long. They come out for a little while in the spring, but when summer comes they die."

This revelation made her suddenly sad. "Like mama?" SHE ASKED TREMULOUSLY.

A bleak look came in to his eyes. "Yes, Maggie, like mama."

She looked out over the small plot of ground they had made for the tulips to grow in.When they had first planted them, she hadn't believed they would grow. They didn't look like flowers, just tiny bits of unidentifiable morsels which pop had promised would get big and beautiful after they cared for them. Maggie had her doubts but accompanied POP everyday as he watered the concealed plants. Then one day, it happened. She was bending down to give the tulips her daily inspection when she saw a tiny bit of green poking from the dirt. She squealed with excitement , pointing out the miracle to pop who looked amused. "They're starting to grow," he commented, "they'll get even bigger as the days go by."

Sure enough, they grew and grew until they were as big and beautiful as pop had said they would be.

With her suspicions allayed, Maggie now delighted in the flowers that now served as the centerpiece on the table. Pop had to coax her from them, promising she could admire them to her heart's content once they returned from the diner. Pop never cooked breakfast. The only time he had tried, he'd made a big mess with the pancake batter, burned the bacon, filling the kitchen with smoke, leaving her with an embarrassed grin and a glass of orange juice. Since then, he'd saved her from his attempts by taking her to the diner to eat.

She liked going to the diner, everyone there was so friendly and cheerful, and one of the pretty waitresses always slipped an extra pancake on to her plate. While pop joked with the men at the diner, she skipped from one table to the next, greeting everyone with a smile. Some of the men, who had children of their own, even boosted her on to their knees, ruffling her hair and nudged a few coins in to her small hands, telling her to buy some candy the next time she went to the general store. She returned to pop once he'd finished his breakfast, showing him the shiny dimes and nickels and begging him to take her to buy her favorite candy, and unable to deny her anything, they soon found themselves at the general store on the corner.

She took a few moments to survey everything on the counter, then carefully selecting the candies she wanted, turned to pop to ask if he wanted something. He chose a candy for himself, and beaming with pride at the independence she felt at being able to purchase her own things, and to buy something for pop, meticulously counted out the correct amount of money to the nice lady behind the counter, and retrieved her bag of goodies with a jubilant grin.

Today was her birthday! She was now six years old and feeling very important about the whole thing. It was a sunny day, just the kind of day she had hoped for. Now pop would take her swimming, or to a movie. but the very best present she could get for her birthday was a brand new bicycle! Oh how she wanted one. She had seen the bike at one of the big stores in Boston when she had gone with pop last week, and since then that was all she could think of. she had made her wish quite vocal, taking every opportunity to boast about the bike's many fine qualities. Now if her pleading had been successful, she would get that bike this very day!

Unable to contain her excitement any longer, she rushed from her room and in to pop's. She couldn't imagine how he could still be sleeping when their were places to go and a birthday to be celebrated. She vaulted on to the bed, and groaning, pop sat up, blinking at the rude awakening. "What's wrong, darling?" he asked sleepily.

"Nothing is wrong, pop," she said with faint irritation, "but we have to start celebrating my birthday before the day is over."

He heaved a sigh, and his bleary eyes turned to the bedside clock. "It's still early, Maggie," he mumbled, slumping back on the bed.

Maggie whipped her head around to face the clock upon hearing this statement. She carefully studied its face for a moment, then scrunched up her face indignantly. She knew how to tell time. They had been learning how at school. The little hand was pointing to five, and the big hand was at six. "Pop, it isn't early. It's six-thirty."

"No, sweetheart," he said, "you have it backwards. It's five-thirty, and much too early to be jumping out of bed."

Preparing herself for battle, she slid from the bed and imperiously placed her hands on her hips. It was a posture she had learned from Megan, her friend's mother, and she was rather pleased with the results. "All right, all right," pop grumbled, "I'm coming. Wait for me in the kitchen."

Grinning triumphantly she ran from the room. Five minutes later pop entered, still looking tired but cheerful as he swung her in to his arms and kissed her cheek. "Happy birthday, Maggie." he announced grandly.

She beamed. "Is it time for my presents, pop?"

He gave her a confused look. "What presents, darling?"

Her heart crashed to the pit of her stomach. "You didn't get me a present for my birthday?"

Her voice trembled and tears gathered in her eyes. A wide smile lit his face and he laughed. "I was only teasing you, Maggie," he reassured her, "of course I got you a present."

Instantly her tears evaporated. "You're silly, pop." she informed him.

Taking her hand he said, "Close your eyes."

Her heart quivered with excitement. It had to be a big surprise if he was making her close her eyes. She obeyed and he led her through the kitchen and on to the porch where he stopped. "All right, you can open your eyes."

It was pink and leaned proudly against its kickstand, its shiny new frame gleaming in the sun. She squealed in delight as she threw her arms around pop. "My bike! You got me the bike! Thanks, pop!"

He grinned. "You're welcome, darling. Now let's see how you look on it."

Suddenly apprehensive, she eyed the prospect of her joy, then remembered the much smaller bike housed in the garage. That bike had the safety of training wheels, a fact which she had rebelled against before, but now which seemed much safer in light of what she was about to do. Seeing her reluctance pop laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Come on, Maggie, you're a big girl now. You said yourself you didn't need training wheels."

She shifted nervously from one foot to the other, looking dejected. "I know I said that, pop, but well...this is so scary. I didn't know I would have to ride the bike right away."

"Of course you do," he encouraged, "what else did you want it for, a pretty decoration for our yard?"

She allowed herself a faint smile at his humor. "I'll help you," he promised, "then once you get the hang of it you'll be glad you don't have those training wheels."

Still skittish but willing to trust her pop she edged closer to the bike, laying a hand on the seat. Streamers dangled from the ends of the handlebars, fluttering merrily in the warm breeze and slightly uplifted by the sight she let pop hoist her on to the seat. He steadied the bike as it wobbled dangerously and her eyes widened. "I can't do this, pop." she decided.

"Now, Maggie, I know it's a little frightening at first but you'll be able to do it."

He positioned her feet on the pedals then began to roll the bike forward, Maggie clinging to the handlebars for dear life. "You're doing fine, sweetheart," he encouraged as he propelled her faster, "start pedaling."

As her feet were already forced to move with the motion of the pedals, it wasn't too difficult to do as he asked and she sped forward. she wasn't expecting him to let go, but as she gained momentum, he couldn't keep up with her. "Just keep pedaling!" he hollered, running alongside her.

Aware that she was now in full control of the bike, she panicked and took her feet from the pedals, then found herself tumbling in to a miserable heap on the ground. Her tears came quick, not only from her scraped hands and knees, but also because she knew she would never learn how to ride a bike. She felt herself being lifted in to pop's strong arms and cuddling against the warmth of his chest, her tears soaking in to his shirt. "There now, darling," he soothed, "let's go inside and we'll see what we can do about those scraped knees."

She glanced anxiously back at the bike lying in a sorry twisted shape,. "I'll come back for it in a minute," pop promised.

She nodded and let him take her in to the house, where he carefully washed the cuts, placing bandaids on the more deeper ones, then giving her a bowl of chocolate ice cream, which made her feel a bit better. Pop left the house, momentarily returning with the bike.

After finishing her ice cream she returned to the bike, which showed only minor damage from its encounter with the street. "Do you feel up to trying it again?" pop asked.

"I don't know," she admitted softly, "I don't want to fall again."

He thought about that for a moment. "I can't promise you won't fall, Maggie, but what I can promise is that you'll fall less and less as you practice riding your bike."

She still looked apprehensive. "And when you do fall, I'll be right here to help."

She offered him a half-hearted smile, then tentatively sat herself on the bike. "Now when I let go, Maggie, don't be afraid, just keep pedaling. That's how you keep your balance."

"Okay, pop, I'll try."

He rolled the bike forward, and without being prompted Maggie began pedaling on her own. "Very good, Maggie." he praised as she picked up speed.

He held on to the bike as long as possible then told her he was letting go, reminding her to pedal. He was running alongside her and she pedaled and pedaled, encouraged by pop's shouts of joy. "Pedal, Maggie, pedal!" he called as she wobbled precariously.

Then suddenly she found she was doing it! She wasn't falling! Pop was right. All she had to do was keep pedaling. She could see the triumphant grin on his face as he continued to trot beside her, and she felt a rush of confidence. She could do this, she was doing it! The wind whished through her ears, her hair blowing wildly. Pop had taught her to ride a bike! He had always told her she could do anything she set her mind to, and now she believed it.

Excited adolescents huddled in groups or milled about in the small high school gym that was temporarily serving as the meeting place for graduation. It was hard to believe so much time had passed, time in which Maggie had flourished, made friends and coped with the constant ache her mother's absence had left. Pop was always supportive of her, but some things he simply couldn't understand. While other girls were enjoying their freedom, and chafing against the restraints their parents placed upon them, Maggie longed for the mother she had never known. It wasn't that her life up to this point had been sad, but brief moments of melancholy would often catch her off guard, which she successfully shrugged aside by immersing herself in the social whirl that was youth. Her teenage years were almost behind her, and for that she was grateful. Maybe adulthood would give her a bit more sense. She scoffed inwardly at that ridiculous thought as she placed her cap firmly on her head, and with the encouragement of friends, they waited to be ushered in to their new lives.

It was over. Maggie was officially finished with high school. It had such a finality to it, but she couldn't feel depressed about it, not today. She floated on a rush of adrenaline as she moved to stand beside pop. Approaching, she thought she saw him surrepticiously wipe away a few tears. "You're beautiful, Maggie." he whispered, his voice betraying the emotion he was trying to mask.

She laughed, embracing him. "You start saying that more often, pop, and I'm liable to get a big head."

"I'm only being truthful, darling." he reasoned.

After changing in to more casual clothes and promising her friends she would attend that evening's graduation party, pop took her to dinner in Boston. The restaurant wasn't fancy, but it was cozy and gave them an opportunity to talk and for pop to come to the realization that his little girl was growing in to a woman. "I can't believe how fast these years have gone by." he observed wistfully, "one instant I was dangling you on my knee, and now just look at you, all grown up and ready to leave your old man for the big world."

"I'm not going anywhere, pop, " she assured, "I don't want to leave Collinsport, not just yet anyway. Maybe I can get a job."

His face brightened at this revelation. "Well, maybe you could. All I want is for you to be happy. And if that means leaving Colinsport, or staying and finding work, I'll support you in whatever you decide."

She beamed. "You're so sweet, pop. I love you, you know?"

His voice was gruff when he replied. "Yeah, Maggie, I know, and the same goes for you too."

Joe's voice drew her from her reverie as she fought back the tears that burned her eyes. "He was a good man, Joe." she whispered brokenly. "He always wanted what was best for me. I know there were times I took him for granted. I never thought he would leave me."

she gave a watery smile. "I think fathers are supposed to be immortal."

Joe pulled her against him and together they looked down at the headstone. "If he was here, Maggie, I think he would approve of our plans."

Her expression lightened at the mention of their newly reinstated engagement. This time they wouldn't wait so long to be married. If pop's death had brought about one good thing, it was that time was precious and not to be squandered, especially on the important things in life that mattered. "So do I, Joe."

She reached down and ran a finger across the velvet of the tulips, and when she at last turned to Joe she was smiling. "Are you ready to go?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," she said, "even though he's gone that doesn't mean I can't continue to make him proud of me."

""It certainly doesn't," he agreed, "Now we'd better get to Collinwood. Doesn't Mrs. Stoddard want to help you choose a wedding dress?"

"Yes," Maggie enthused, "she's determined to see that I get married in a respectable fashion, which of course means she wants to supervise everything."

"Just as long as you're happy with the arrangements, Maggie," Joe said, "it's nice of her to help, but remember, it will be your wedding day."

Maggie let the words sink in to her. She was going to be married to the man she loved, a man she could start her own family with. While one great man had left her life, another was entering. She felt content as they left the cemetery. "I love you, Joe." she said, taking his hand.

"And I love you, soon-to-be Mrs. Haskell."