Danny bounced into the kitchen and Margaret hurriedly wiped away her tears.
"What's wrong?" he asked, skidding to a halt.
"Nothing," Margaret faked a smile and turned back to the dishes.
Danny had seen his mom wipe away tears and he frowned and glared at the kitchen door, knowing his father was on the other side.
"I get sad when Daddy makes me do dishes too"
Margaret laughed at the child's assumption"I'm fine," she assured him.
"Can I help you?" he asked cheerily. Normally Danny hated washing the dishes but he hated seeing people sad even more.
Margaret nodded and Danny pulled a chair over to the sink from the kitchen table. He picked up the towel by the sink and Margaret began to hand him the wet dishes.
"So do you get free food?"
Margaret looked at her son curiously. "What are you talking about?"
"You told Miss Thompson that you work at a diner. Do you get free food?"
Margaret nodded. "Sometimes," she replied, not telling the boy that the only time she got a decent meal was when she would have dinner with her perverted boss.
"I like that!" he exclaimed exuberantly. "Maybe when I'm all grown up I'll be a waitress like you!"
Margaret chuckled. "You wouldn't be a waitress, you'd be a waiter." She corrected. "And I'm sure there are plenty of jobs you would like better than cleaning up people's messes."
"I had to write a paragraph saying what I wanted to be when I grow up. I got an A." he informed her, sticking his chest out proudly.
"Well, what did you say you wanted to be?"
"A grandpa." He said simply.
Margaret looked down at the little boy in shock. "What?"
"I want to be a grandpa." He repeated. "Then I can take my grandkids fishing, even the girls. And we'd go camping and I'd tell them funny stories about when I went camping with my grandpa."
Margaret smiled gently, wishing she had amusing stories about her grandfather. She had hardly known the man, and what little she did know about him she had never liked.
"Where is your Grandpa?" Margaret asked.
Danny looked at her in shock and blushed. "Oh, I'm sorry," he mumbled.
Margaret watched him strangely. "What do you have to be sorry about?"
"Grandpa got seized." He admitted reluctantly.
"Seized?" Margaret sat down the soapy plate she had been washing and looked at the child in confusion. "You mean he was kidnapped?"
Danny shook his head. "No, he had many Jesus and he was seized."
"Many Jesus?" Margaret honestly thought the boy was crazy, what on earth was he talking about? She thought about the phrase over and over again and came up with a horrible conclusion.
"Meningitis?"
Danny nodded slowly. "I think that's it." He shrugged his small shoulders. "I was only a little kid though, so I can't 'member exactly."
Margaret felt her chest tighten and tears build up once again. "He had a seizure," she clarified, beginning to understand what Danny's confused words meant.
"Yeah." The little boy pointed the soapy plate with a smile. "You missed a spot," he teased, not noticing Margaret's troubled state of mind.
Margaret forced her attention back to the plate and she picked it up just as Hawkeye walked through the door. The soapy pate slipped through her fingers and landed on the floor with a crash.
Hawkeye cursed loudly and turned to get a broom from beside the refrigerator. Margaret stared at Hawkeye for a moment and then looked back at Danny. She could feel her emotions rising and she couldn't handle the tense silence any longer. She burst out of the kitchen and almost collided with Erica.
Margaret, what's wrong?" Erica grabbed onto the woman's shoulders in concern but Margaret jerked away angrily.
"Get away from me!" she snapped, as she hurried for the front door. Margaret made it outside and stumbled down the front steps taking the familiar path to the church.
During the first few blissful years of their marriage, Margaret and Hawkeye had faithfully walked this path to the small church every Sunday at Daniel's request.
Margaret had thoroughly enjoyed herself in those days. The pastor's lectures were amusing and the people in the congregation were warm and friendly. Well, until they got a hold of a bit of gossip, then they could become unbearable.
Margaret made it to the edge of the church property and she breathlessly made her way to the small graveyard, a few hundred yards back. She paused at the white gate and then entered, scanning the stones with a dreaded expectancy.
"God, please no." she whispered to herself; praying that Danny had been mistaken. "Please, please, don't let it be true."
She came across a stone she hadn't ever seen before and she peered at the name, sighing in relief when it was someone she had never met before. There was a bouquet of wildflowers leaning against a stone near the fence. Underneath the flowers lay a child's drawing.
Margaret walked hesitantly towards the headstone and knelt beside it.
"Daniel Edward Pierce," she mumbled aloud, reading the stone's inscription. "Beloved husband, father and grandfather. 1896-1961."
"Oh, god, no." Margaret let out a small whimper and clamped her hand over her mouth. "Oh Daniel," Margaret laid her hand atop the stone and burst into a flood of tears. "I'm so sorry, Daniel," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here. Oh god, I loved you. I'm so, so sorry."
Margaret felt a small hand on her quivering shoulders and she looked up into Danny's sweet face and quickly tried to compose herself. "It's okay to cry," he whispered, kneeling beside her. "I miss him too."
Danny wrapped and arm around his mother's waist, patting her back comfortingly as Margaret began to cry again.
Margaret heard a car door slam in the distance and she pushed Danny back. "Go to your dad," she whispered with a shaky voice. "I'm sure he didn't like you running off."
"No," Danny shook his head stubbornly and put his arm around her waist again. "I'm stayin' with you."
-sigh- I'm falling in love with Danny. lol. He's so cute1 working on this story makes me happy. So Margaret finally found out about Daniel, poor girl. I hope to update fairly soon I'm about halfway through the next chapter but I don't want to abandon all my other stories. Hope you enjoyed the chapter!
-Mrs.Tuttle