Before the weekend was over we'd settled into a routine and Ponyboy even joined me for church on Sunday. When we got back, I realized that Darry had put a roast in the oven and my mouth was watering as soon as we walked in. I was whipping up some biscuits and Darry was stirring the green beans when there was a knock on the door. I followed Darry into the living room, Ponyboy close behind.
We were surprised to find Tim Shepherd standing on the porch with three familiar faces behind him. At least I thought they were the same punks who had tormented me on Thursday, but it was hard to tell. All three of them were black and blue and they were staring at my shoes.
"Hello, Shepherd," Darry said as though this sort of thing happened all the time.
"Curtis," Tim gave Darry a respectful nod. "Mrs. Curtis," he nodded to me. That sounded weird when someone said it out loud I thought. So word had gotten around. "We don't need to come in, my boys just have something they'd like to say to you," he stepped out of the way and when no one spoke up right away, he cleared his throat strongly.
"Mrs. Curtis," the boy in the middle spoke up. He had his hands stuffed in his leather jacket and he wouldn't look up at me. "We're very sorry for the disrespectful way we treated you the other day," he said. "We had no right to say those things to you."
"Yeah," another said. "We're real sorry."
"Real sorry," the third one said.
The apology was almost laughable. Like children being scolded by their parents, these boys were only standing here because Tim had pummeled them and would do so again if they didn't apologize. They weren't really sorry, they were just afraid of him.
But, I reasoned, like parents teaching their children, if this gave them more respect for girls in the future, maybe I could at least accept their apology. Forgive them? Maybe not.
"Thank you," I said. "I appreciate your effort to come and apologize." It was the best I could do but they were apparently satisfied.
Tim jerked his head toward the sidewalk and the boys wasted no time in jumping off the porch and heading that way. "Thanks, Tim," Darry stuck out his hand. "We appreciate it."
"No problem," Tim said, returning the handshake. He nodded to me, "Ma'am, I hope you have a very pleasant day." And he turned and headed down the walk to the street, his pace equal to a leisurely stroll.
Darry and I barely contained our laughter until we got in the house. I was really beginning to believe that I'd be okay.
And for the most part, I was. We had a routine. Darry didn't like the idea of feeling totally waited on so we kept the tradition of having the first one up make breakfast. I added that the last one up had to clean the bathroom that night and Soda and Ponyboy traded that chore almost daily. I made dinner most nights, but I let Darry cook once or twice a week and occasionally we let Soda cook. Bleh. Choking down his unique concoctions was difficult to say the least. Darry was actually a pretty good cook. He made really good fried chicken.
We rotated doing the laundry and ironing. I think everyone in the house was suddenly self-conscious of their unmentionables but somehow, we all managed. Since the bathroom was at least spot cleaned every day and we each took care of our own rooms, it wasn't too hard to keep the living room, dining room, and kitchen clean.
Things were good. Compared to last fall, my life was a fairytale, and I knew it. But I wasn't prepared for how lonely I was. I mean, I was hardly ever alone. There were usually at least five or six people in the house, but even though things were good, I still felt separated. I was closer to Darry than I'd ever been, but I'd never felt so far apart.
It was bugging me more than usual one late evening in February. The boys were at the movies and I was cleaning the living room when Darry walked in.
"What's wrong?" He asked.
I hadn't realized I was emoting so strongly. I took a deep breath and tried to reign everything back in. "Nothing," I lied while I dusted the lamp shade.
"Maggie, look at me," his voice was firm. Darry rarely gave me a direct order. I froze and turned to face him, focusing on the buttons on his shirt. "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing," I said quickly. "I'll be fine." He didn't budge and finally, I couldn't take it any more. "I just didn't realize it would be this hard," words began spewing out of my mouth before I could stop them. "I just don't feel married. I'm tied down, but not married."
"You don't want to be tied down?" He was confused.
"No, that's not what I mean," I shook my head. "I mean that I want both." I finally managed to look up at him and suddenly, his eyes widened in surprise.
That moment felt like an eternity because Darry had finally realized that I was in love with him. The feelings I'd managed to hide for so many years were suddenly so apparent that, try as I might, I couldn't pull them back. I felt like I might as well have been standing in front of a huge crowd of people without a stitch of clothing. The heat rose in my face as he stared at me.
I realized that Darry was afraid of being vulnerable. He'd had to be strong for so long, that weakening, even if it might allow something wonderful to happen, was probably terrifying. I was suddenly angry.
"You're allowed to feel, Darry," I couldn't believe I said that. "You're allowed to be human."
I was standing there, silently begging him to wrap his arms around me, hold me, kiss me, tell me everything was going to be alright but he just stood there. Maybe he was just too shocked to react, but he just stood there and watched my heart shatter into a thousand pieces.
I bolted from the room and didn't have the nerve to come out for the rest of the evening. I eventually cried myself to sleep, but I was getting used to that.