Disclaimer: Mary and Marshall belong to David Maples. If they hadn't been misused by others I wouldn't be writing this.
Provoked Too– Chapter 6 – Picnic Playoffs
MARY'S HOME
"Hey Bug. What have you been up to?" Mary hugs Norah and sticks her finger in the back of the diaper. "Gross!" She tosses a changing pad and all the other items on the floor. She lays Norah down and tickles her tummy and wrestles her into a clean diaper. "All done!" She holds Norah up and frowns at the pink teddy bear diaper. Really Jinx? Eh, they're good enough for poop. "Mommy's home today Bug. We get to play aaaaalll day." Mary's balancing the baby on her stomach when her phone rings.
"You stay put Bug." She gently rolls Norah onto the floor dangling plastic keys. "Hey Lucas, how's it hangin?"
"Nope, no can do. I've got Norah all to myself today." When did having Norah go from being a burden to a joy? Getting a good nights sleep must do it.
"Well . . . we could meet you at the park." Norah hasn't met Lucas yet and Mary still isn't sure she wants her to.
"No not where we go running - Roosevelt Park off Coal and Spruce. Near the stadium. It's got a playground."
"Give me an hour. It takes forever to pack and load her gear."
"Well Bug, guess it's time for you to meet Lucas. Let's see what you think of him. Huh Bug?" With Norah on her hip Mary goes through her leaving the house checklist. Diaper bag, change of clothes for herself and another one for Norah, baby food pouches and water and everything but the kitchen sink go in the bag. The stroller is already in the back of the minivan. "I never knew one little kid needed so much crap! At least you don't need boots, a jacket and mittens," she tells the baby. "Just sunscreen and a hat! Aargh, it never ends."
Mary finds a parking spot and gets Norah into the stroller without a battle. Always a good sign. Norah's head swivels calmly checking out the scene. Mary spots Lucas' Land Rover and sees him walking toward them carrying a cooler.
"What's that? Equal opportunity baggage? If I'm carrying a bag you have to carry something?"
Lucas laughs. "It's almost lunchtime. I thought we should have a picnic. Hence, the picnic cooler."
If this was Marshall she would have told him not to say 'hence.' But this isn't Marshall. Mary eyes the cooler mumbling, "I make it a practice to never pass up free food."
Lucas puts down the cooler. "A good practice. Rule #1: An army travels on its stomach."
Mary eyes the t-shirt that clings to his sculpted abs. "So I see. Get over here and meet Norah." Mary squats down to Norah's level. Lucas does the same. "Bug? This is Lucas. He's a friend of mommy's."
Norah already has Mary's demoralizing glare down pat. She focuses on his face then turns away in boredom.
"Hey," Lucas objects. "Look what I got!" He brings out a yellow rubber Sophie giraffe from the pocket of his cargo pants and squeezes it until it squeaks. Norah grabs it and immediately puts the head in her mouth. "Don't worry. I washed it," Lucas assures Mary.
"How much you wanna bet it never makes it home?" Mary grumbles. One more thing to keep track of.
"We'll see." Lucas looks around the park taking in the tangle of colorful playground equipment. "They've got quite a set up here. What does she like?"
"I usually take her on that." Mary points to a low slide wide enough for parent and child.
"What are you waiting for?" Lucas asks the baby. He stays with the stroller and cooler as mother and daughter slide. When they get to the bottom she spots Lucas with a camera. Mary swings Norah onto her hip and stalks toward him. "Lucas," she warns.
He holds out the camera. "Look, old style digital camera. No internet, no location app. C'mon Mary, how many pictures do you have of you and Norah?"
Mary hangs her head. "Umm none, unless you count the one in the hospital where I look like I've been hit by a truck and Norah is a pink blob."
"Well, there you go. I'll print it out at home. You can come to my place and watch me delete the file. Okay?"
Mary's still uncomfortable about having her picture taken with Norah. "Guess I'll have to trust you this time, but don't do it again without asking me first," she huffs. Lucas holds up his hands in surrender.
After a few more sessions on the slide, Lucas plants himself at the bottom to catch Norah. He holds out his arms and Norah leans his way. He picks her up and twirls around and around making her giggle. "Oh yeah," he says. "You'll be ready for the merry go round soon." They're walking to the stroller when they hear someone calling.
Mary puts her hand up to shade her eyes. "Is that. . . ."
"Little Miss Perky and your boss?" Lucas supplies. "Looks like it." Mary groans and leans down to buckle Norah up, too late for a quick getaway.
"Mary, so good to see you and Norah," Abigail gushes. "You too Mr. Provo." Mary pastes on a tepid smile and wonders where Marshall is. If the southern-fried-detective is here he can't be far behind.
"Lucas, please. Seems we both think this is picnic weather." He hoists his cooler and nods toward Marshall who is lugging a large wicker and willow hamper.
Marshall whoofs as he sets it down. "Woah," Mary greets him. "You guys feeding the 5th army?"
"No," Mashall pants. Abigail," he turns and salutes her, "made quiche Lorraine." His exaggerated accent is supposed to be French. "It's has to travel flat. We've got a couple of bottles of sparkling juice too."
"There's more than quiche and juice in there Sugarbear," Abigail winks slyly. "Gotta keep my Mann happy." She giggles at her own joke. Mary wonders how Abigail will like being teased when her last name is Mann. "Granny always said peace in the head requires peace in the stomach. Right Sugarbritches?"
Mary turns her head so Abigail can't see her roll her eyes. Lucas watches the other couple as Mary whispers in his ear. "If you ever call me a cutesy nickname in public, I will un-man you."
Lucas murmurs back. "And you'd have my permission."
Abigail is prying open the basket and misses the exchange. Marshall, attuned to his former partner, did not. They see his mouth thin in disapproval before he turns to his fiancée. "Everything make it okay Abs?"
"Yes Honeybunch. Let's find a table so we can start the feast. After last night I know you're hungry Sugarbear." She looks at Mary, Norah and Lucas. "Why don't you join us?" She eyes the picnic area and points. "There's a table big enough for all of us."
Mary looks at Lucas. Lucas shrugs and Norah says nothing because Sophie's legs are in her mouth. "Sure." She's been watching Abigail watch Norah.
"Look at that Sugarbear. Norah has one of those cute giraffes. I want to get one of those for my niece. Where did you find it Mary?"
"Uh, I didn't. Lucas gave it to her." Marshall's faux smile turns into a frown. Lucas knows Norah well enough to buy her presents? How much time does he spend with her? Mary won't let him even see Norah and this guy gets to buy her toys?
Marshall frowns as Abigail gives Lucas an appraising look. "Do you have children Lucas?"
"No. My nieces and nephews keep me clued in. My sister told me about Sophie." He points to the giraffe. "I bought it online. Even I'm not brave enough to go shopping in a store full of kids."
"I suppose you can order anything online these days. I still like to go to a store, see things for myself." Abigail confides, looking at Marshall. "Don't we Sugar?" Mary smirks because she knows the last thing Marshall bought in person besides groceries, was his 'fun gun' the Colt Detective Special. Doesn't Abigail know he even buys his pjs online?
The table is under a tree which means shade but also bird droppings. Lucas spreads a large tablecloth then anchors it with his cooler. Marshall wrestles their basket onto the other end and then wipes off the benches. Norah has her pouty hungry look so Mary puts the pouches of spinach, squash and apple and pear apple on the table and unbuckles her.
Abigail holds the basket while Marshall removes the quiche. He looks in the basket. "Sweetheart? Where's the knife?"
"Knife? I thought you put it in the basket." She frowns as she examines the basket's cloth lined interior. "Well Sugarbear, I must have distracted you and you forgot to put it in the basket." She winks making sure the others understand what kind of distraction she means.
"Here," Lucas volunteers. He pulls a hunting knife from his boot and cleans it off with hand sanitizer and one of Mary's baby wipes. "Use this."
"Thanks," Marshall cuts the quiche into wedges but it's soft and the slices collapse. Abigail gets the filling out with a spoon and puts the crumbles on her medallion shaped plastic plates. Lucas puts a roll of paper towels on the table and gives Mary a heavy-duty paper plate and a fork. He sets down a platter of fried chicken and two containers - pasta salad and coleslaw. Mary reaches into the stroller and plunks baby wipes on the table.
Mary turns to Lucas and talks around a mouthful of pasta ignoring Marshall's tsk at her breach of etiquette. "How did you know?" She points her fork at the chicken, pasta and coleslaw. "These are my favorites!" She's devouring the chicken one handed while holding Norah. "What did you bring to drink?"
"Ah," Lucas responds. "This is the pièce de résistance." Mary rolls her eyes. Lucas' French is even more pretentious than Marshall's. A drink dispenser is lifted from the cooler with a flourish. "Homemade honey lemonade with grapefruit and mint." Mary eyes it dubiously.
Lucas pours a cup quarter full and hands it to her. "Just try it." Mary sips then downs it in a single gulp and holds her cup out for more. Lucas turns to Marshall and Abigail. "I'd say she likes it. Would you like to try some?"
Abigail demurs, but Marshall holds out his cup. They had brought sparkling white grape juice. "No thanks. I prefer grape juice," Abigail declares. "Of course, the fermented kind is even better," she titters as the rest of them chow down. "You're welcome to have some."
Marshall did like the lemonade. He needed plenty to wash down the clumps of quiche. Mary sees him eyeing the fried chicken. She nudges Lucas, who promptly offers, "Would either of you like some chicken? Seems I overestimated our appetites."
"Please help yourself to the quiche," Marshall offers while grabbing a breast.
Lucas puffs out his chest, bragging. "I made the chicken. Mom's secret recipe."
Mary pokes him with her elbow. "Liar! You did not. I saw the Golden Pride BBQ box," she snorts, bumping his shoulder. "And you expect me to trust you?"
"Can't blame a guy for trying." Lucas has never felt the need to compete for a woman. But with Mary, it's different. He wants to show her he is better than Marshall. Better for her. He wants Mary, who has fought for everything she has, to come out on top. Especially if it means she ends up with him.
"I thought it looked like theirs." Marshall sighs. "I love their fried chicken." He tears off a piece. "It is so moist and juicy - the best."
Abigail pouts. "You said my fried chicken was the best."
Marshall backtracks. "Yours is the best Sweetheart, the best home made. Golden Pride's is just the best you can buy, uh. . . I mean the best commercial chicken." Hands full of chicken he goes to nuzzle Abigail but she has turned her head so he gets a nose full of hair instead. Mary snickers.
Mary has seen Marshall shoveling antacids after one of Abigail's 'special' lunches. Marshall glares at her knowing she knows and for once Mary keeps it to herself. Crisis averted, Marshall and Lucas debate whether Napoleon or Fredrick the Great said that an army travels on its stomach. Mary and Abigail sit awkwardly silent as Norah gums her new teething toy.
"Can I hold her?" Abigail asks. "She's such a little doll!" Abigail moves next to Mary.
Mary can't find a good reason to say no. Hoping Norah's diaper picks this time to overflow she hands the baby to Abigail. "There ya go Bug." Mary smiles at her daughter, faces close. "How do you like the view from there?"
When Mary sits back Norah cranes her neck, sees Abigail and bursts into tears. "C'mon back, babe." Mary takes Norah and rocks her. At the sound of Norah's crying Marshall and Lucas look up, concern writ large on both their faces. "She's fine." Mary tells them, as she rocks the wailing little girl. Mary checks her diaper and makes sure nothing is pinching her.
"Here, let me have her," Lucas says. Reluctantly Mary hands him the crying baby and Lucas sets her on his shoulders for a horseback ride. The furrows on Mary's forehead relax when she sees that he's holding her securely and Norah has stopped crying. He gallops gently bouncing her. Nora smiles then starts to giggle. By the time they're done she is laughing and reaching for the leaves. Marshall looks wistful and Mary's sure he's thinking of giving his own children horseback rides someday.
"Would you like to take some quiche home? There's enough to share," Abigail assures them as she packs away their picnic paraphernalia.
"No that's okay," Lucas politely refuses the undercooked mess.
Mary sniggers quietly, "Real men don't eat quiche." Marshall frowns, Lucas smiles and thinks maybe they aren't as close as he thought. Lucas doesn't know she's teased Marshall for years. It doesn't faze Marshall but Abigail frowns and packs faster.
"All done," Abigail reports. "Isn't there something we need to do this afternoon?" Knowing Abigail wants to leave and feeling uncomfortable himself, Marshall nods.
"There's a stamped tile demonstration at House of Floors." He tells Mary and Lucas. "We're considering it for the patio." He grabs the basket handles. "Nice to see you two again." He bends down almost close enough to Eskimo kiss Norah. "I'm gonna miss you little miss. You be good for your mommy. She gets into enough trouble all by herself."
Norah tries to look at him but he's too close and her eyes cross. Mary watches not wanting Norah upset again. She needn't worry. Norah's not even interested enough to grab his nose.
"Bye," Abigail tosses over her shoulder as she takes Marshall's hand and heads to the parking lot.
Once they are out of sight Lucas says, "That was interesting."
"That's one word for it," Mary smirks and bumps him. "I'd say you won the picnic playoffs. Even Missy Detective ate your fried chicken." She reaches down making sure Norah has a firm grip on Sophie. "Did you get your knife back?"
"Yup." He pats his boot. "Never leave home without it."
"So this is the second time we've run into Marshall and Abigail. Do you think they planned it?"
Lucas tilts his head. "Paranoid much Mary? How could they? We didn't decide to come to the park until a few hours ago. And why would they?"
Mary slowly pushes the stroller as they meander to the parking lot. "I think Marshall wants to check us out. We used to watch each other's backs and he can't seem to break the habit. He tells me Abigail wants me to come to their 'soirees,'" she lets go of the stroller long enough to make the dreaded air quotes. "Right. I'd be as welcome as a skunk at a garden party. I'm the last person she wants there."
"Whatever she thinks it seems he's still looking out for you. I told you I'd have to go through him to get you."
They're at Mary's minivan. "Yeah well I'm not a door prize. No one 'gets' me." She transfers Norah from the stroller to her car seat.
"Of course not." Lucas takes her hand. "You are a fascinating woman Mary. I don't pretend to know you, but I'd like to." He leans in for a kiss and she turns so his lips land on her cheek. She doesn't know why she didn't follow through. It was just a kiss, right?
"Why fascinating?" She wonders what kind of come on line he'll use.
He holds both her hands. "A woman who chooses law enforcement, a traditionally male job? And then she picks the super macho Marshal Service?" Mary's head jerks back. That's no come on line she's ever heard.
"You think the Marshals are super macho?" She's never been anything but a US Marshal. Men don't have to be in law enforcement to be idiots.
"Hell yeah. They're right up there with the marines," he assures her. "I've dealt with all branches of the military and most law enforcement agencies. I know what I'm talking about."
"So?" She shrugs off the compliment. "There are women marines."
"Yes there are and they do not have an easy time of it. I bet you didn't either."
"No," she confesses. "Nothing's ever been easy for me."
He gently grabs her biceps so she has to look him in the eye. "And it has made you the courageous, capable, fierce, loyal, marshal and mother you are today."
Mary shakes him off and snickers as she heads for the driver's seat. "You just want to get in my pants."
Lucas laughs out loud as he picks up his cooler. "Oh no darlin'. I want much more than that."