Chapter 8: The First Crack

1961

"DAMN IT, PIERCE, GET UP HERE AND HELP ME WITH THE LUGGAGE!"

"That, my darling daughter, is the sound of Hurricane Margaret," Hawkeye said to Eva.

Eva looked up at him and gurgled.

Deciding he should leave it at that, Hawkeye set her down and went up the steps. "Coming, wife of the strong vocal chords," he called.

Margaret huffed in annoyance as she dropped a black and orange plaid suitcase on the hallway floor. "My sister is expecting us to get to her house by dinner! Now MOVE your lazy behind and HELP ME CARRY THE SUITCASES!"

"Look, baby-"

"Don't 'look baby' me. Albany is at least a five hour drive from here and we're--don't just stand there! GO!"

XXX

The Pierces were lost.

"I think your sister gave us directions to Holland," said Hawkeye.

"Don't be an idiot," Margaret replied. "Turn left up here."

"Where?"

Margaret sighed as the car sped past McLevand Road. "Back there."

"It's no big deal. Everybody knows that all roads end up in the same place."

XXX

Lillian Wilver paced anxiously across the hardwood floors of her apartment. "Ted!" she shouted. "Have you seen them yet?"

"No, dear. Shall I ask Louis if I can borrow his binoculars?"

She shook her head. "I doubt if he would let you. You know how seven-year olds can be so protective of their things."

"I was kidding."

Margaret's sister pressed her nose to the picture window. "I think--yes, that's them! I would know Ben's monstrous blue car anywhere."

"I hope they can find a parking space. Rumor has it that the drivers are particularly vicious this time of year."

"Who's here?" Louis, Ted and Lillian's son, dashed out of his room. "Do I know them? Do they know me? Do they like me?"

"Yes, yes, and yes," said Lillian. "You know Aunt Margaret and Uncle Benjamin, don't you?"

"I think."

"That's them. And you're going to get to meet your darling little cousin Eva."

"Is that a boy?"

"No."

"Oh. Then I don't like her."

Lillian shook her head as she pulled on her burgundy coat and shoved the door open. She ran down the short flight of stairs and flung open the door. "Margaret!" she shouted.

The blonde growled as she stomped out of the car. "Never again," she proclaimed, "will I ride in a car with that man. Ever!"

"It's a long walk home," said Hawkeye.

"Did you have a nice drive here?" asked Lillian.

"No," snapped Hawkeye and Margaret in unison.

Lillian's eyes widened and she wondered what, exactly, she was going to do with the couple for the next three days.

Back in the apartment, Ted was watching his wife greet her sister and brother-in-law while Louis zoomed his toy firetruck around the living room. He dreaded the arrival of Margaret. Ever since he and Lillian had gotten married, the two had gotten into disagreements.

"Although," he said thoughtfully, "the person who can't get into a disagreement with Margaret Houlihan is rare. She must have found someone quite special that can handle her."

"ME? It was YOU who forgot the map, you idiot, NOT me!"

"All right, you can drive next time. Happy?"

"Next time? There will not BE a next time."

The door opened, and in stormed Margaret, who was carrying Eva, with Lillian behind her. Hawkeye dropped the suitcases on the floor.

"Dinner will be ready in ten minutes," chirped Lillian. "You remember my husband Ted, and our son Louis, don't you?"

Margaret nodded. She rolled her neck. "I think I'm going to pass on dinner and take a nap."

"Of course. Your bedroom's down the hall and to the left."

"Thank you."

"I think I'll take a walk," said Hawkeye, who hadn't even entered the apartment yet

He left, leaving Lillian and Ted exchanging curious glances.

XXX

The trip would go down in the history books of the Pierce-Houlihan relationship as the first fight.

The first rift.

The first crack.

The first crack, Margaret thought as she laid awake next to her husband that night, that is going to lead to more.

A/N: I am SO sorry that I haven't updated this! My muse must have taken a long vacation to the Bahamas and just returned today. However...it's back, which means that I'll be continuing this in a (hopefully) timely fashion.