The Weekend

Maggie didn’t know what to do.
Falling in love at her age seemed like an odd thing somehow. But why? Love isn’t bound by age or gender or time or space. Perhaps she was discovering a new kind of love. A deeper, more meaningful love.
At first Maggie fought her feelings. It was natural, she convinced herself. But letting go was even more natural, she reasoned, because she would be at peace if only she could feel with her heart instead of her head.
Like Sam said, love is without motivation or condition. Certainly, her feelings blossomed because Sam rang her doorbell Friday afternoon.
For two years, Maggie had buried her feelings. It was strictly survival mode. Wake up, teach, eat, sleep, repeat. Wake up, teach, eat, sleep, repeat. When she was around her daughters,
Maggie had to make sure she could fake it. The only trouble was she was still faking it.
Feelings so special that it hurts don’t happen every day, Maggie told herself. There had to be a way to keep Sam in Natchitoches. If he ever got back on that plane headed to Brazil, she probably would never see him again. She didn’t want to let that happen.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Sam said over the smooth jazz station playing on his rental car satellite radio. “A penny for your thoughts? How about a dollar for your thoughts?”
Maggie didn’t know what to say, so she decided a little white lie wouldn’t hurt anything. “I’m just thinking about all the things I have to do before I start the new semester.”
“And you’ve got some land in Florida you want to sell me.” Sam couldn’t help the sarcasm. “What were you really thinking?”
“About us.” Maggie hoped that would be enough for Sam.
“That I do believe. I also believe you were thinking deep thoughts, but I’m not going to interrogate you. When the time is right, I know you will share.”
“I’m excited about dinner, even if I don’t know where we are going.” Maggie knew it was a bit shifty, but she wasn’t lying. She was excited about dinner.
Sam wheeled into a tight parking spot next to the Cane River boat dock and turned off the key. He quickly slid out of his seat, went to Maggie’s side of the car and opened her door.
“It’s been a long time since anyone has opened my door for me,” Maggie confessed. “But, Sam, there aren’t any restaurants around here.”
Sam took Maggie by the hand and led her down the boat dock. In just a couple of minutes, Maggie and Sam were standing in front of the River Runner, a thirty-foot river cruiser that had seen her share of tourists over the years, but still had plenty of life in her.
“We are going on a cruise?” Maggie wondered.
“A dinner cruise,” Sam shot back. “A sunset dinner cruise, to be precise.”
“Sam, what is this?” Maggie was curious because every photo she had ever seen pictured a large group of tourists and locals on the boat as it cruised up and down the Cane River.
“I just thought we could share a quiet meal tonight. Nothing fancy.”
Sam was pretty sure of himself, Maggie thought. Maggie felt a slight jerk as the River Runner pulled away from the dock. No reason to fight it, Maggie thought. The boat was moving, and there was no going back. She might as well trust Sam and enjoy a quiet evening on the Cane River.
The chugg-a-chugg of the boat was soothing and the evening breeze was welcome –– even if it tussled Maggie’s hair. Sam took Maggie to the bow of the boat to get a better view of the river and the sun, which was setting rapidly in the distance.
“I want to talk with you about a serious subject.” Sam thought the moment was right.
“I’m listening,” Maggie said, “besides, we are on the river. Where could I possibly go? I can’t swim to shore from here. It’s too dark, even with this beautiful moon.”
“I want you to marry me, Maggie.”
“You don’t waste any time, do you?”
“I mean it. I really want you to think about it. But don’t take too long.”
“One minute you say I can take my time with this ‘relationship,’ as you call it. The next minute you want an answer. I don’t know what to think.”
“I know it’s a crazy time for both of us. We’ve both led very different lives. But here we are. I know you care about me, and you know how much I care about you.”
“Are you insisting on an answer tonight, Sam?”
“I would never insist.”
“Good. Allow me to rephrase the question –– would you prefer an answer tonight?”
“You’ve promised me another day tomorrow. How about we compromise and say tomorrow?”
“How is that a compromise? How about if I promise to think about it over night and, if the answer is ‘yes,’ I’ll tell you tomorrow. If I say ‘no,’ or if I can’t decide, then we will just have to see what happens next. That is the best I can do.”
“I’m sorry, Maggie. Forgive me. No more high pressure sales pitches, I promise.”
What was Maggie thinking? She wanted Sam to stay. She didn’t want him to leave, but she wanted to make the right decision for herself and the girls. This was a delicate balancing act. Even at fifty-eight years of age and all of her life experience, Maggie didn’t know what do when it came to Sam.
“Tomorrow, then.”
“Tomorrow,” Sam repeated.
Maggie didn’t know what she would ultimately tell Sam, but she bought herself another twenty-four hours. Maybe she would wake up Monday morning and the answer would come to her.
No pressure. It was just the biggest decision of her life.