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“Then it’s all good, man. ’Cause I ain’t planning to drop the ball. I ain’t working ninety fucking hours a week and spending my weekends putting together baby shit only to screw it all up later on down the line.”
“Glad to hear it, brother. And I wish you the best, Jack. I want nothing less than that for you and for Maggie. But I’m still leaving,” Prosper said with finality.
“Prosper, it doesn’t have to go down like this,” Jack insisted.
“Ain’t no other way for it to go down,” Prosper shot back. Then he added, “Weather’s gonna turn midweek. I’d like to get out of here before that happens, so I’m good to go tomorrow morning.”
Jack knew when he had been beat. "You riding along the coast?”
“That’s the plan. Maybe head down to Mexico.” Prosper shrugged. “We’ll see how it goes.”
“That’s a damn good ride. One of my favorites,” Jack said wistfully. Then he frowned. “You ain’t gonna be a stranger though, right? You gonna call? Come back and meet the kid?”
“Yeah, of course I will,” Prosper said it like he meant it.
“Glad to hear it.” Jack looked relieved. They both sat on a little longer in companionable silence. “Well, there’s only one thing to do now,” Jack said.
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“You or me. We gotta decide which one of us is gonna tell Maggie that you’re leaving.”
Magaskaweegot up from the kitchen table when she heard that telltale creak of the staircase. Then she walked over to the coffee pot and poured out a fresh cup of steaming hot coffee. When Prosper hesitated in the archway of the door, she could see the surprise written on his face. “Did you really expect me to just let you leave without so much as a goodbye?” She put the coffee down on the table. “Black with two sugars. I made it strong too. Just how you like it. There’s a bag full of ham and cheese sandwiches, a few green apples, a couple of bananas, four water bottles, and what was left of the brownies I made on Tuesday …” Her voice trailed off as she looked across the table accusingly at him.
Prosper took a sip of the hot coffee and nodded. “Thanks.”
“Yeah. Well, you’re welcome,” she said through a tight jaw. “I can’t believe this, Prosper. I can’t believe you’re leaving us.” Then she added through teary eyes, “I can’t believe you’re leaving me.”
“I’m not leaving you, Maggie,” Prosper said gently. “I’m just going somewhere else.”
“Is there a difference?” She sniffled.
“Yeah, honey. There’s a big difference.” Prosper longed to touch her, take her in his arms and comfort her. He wanted to throw his duffle bag and his plans to leave out the goddamn window, sweep her into his arms, and make love to her all day long.
Which is exactly why he had to go.
“Well, if I’m gonna beat that rain, I better get going.” When Prosper stood up, Maggie did too. She stood between him and the door. Then Maggie reached out and placed the palm of her hand on his chest, over the place where his heart was beating … and breaking. With her other hand, Maggie took one of his hands in hers, opened his palm, and slipped a small folded square of paper in it. Then she reached up, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him on the cheek.
“Come back to us, Prosper,” she whispered against his ear. Then she pulled away from him and walked out of the kitchen and down the hall to the bedroom where her husband lay sleeping.
Prosper rode fast and hard that morning. He didn’t trust himself to stop until he had crossed three state lines … until he had put enough distance between himself and Maggie so that going back wasn’t an option.
When Prosper finally pulled over, it was at a rest area with a panoramic view of the sea coast. He grabbed the bag of sandwiches out of his saddlebag, then he sat down on a large stone close to the edge of the bluff and enjoyed the view of the rocky shore.
Prosper took his time and ate two sandwiches, an apple, and a brownie, and took long sips of the bottled water. Then he stretched out on the sun-warmed piece of granite and opened the folded note that Maggie had put in his hand. It was only a single line, but one he recognized from a poetry book that he had bought for her from a used book sale that the library had sponsored.
The library.
Just one of the many places that he wouldn’t have been caught dead in if she hadn’t dragged him along. But now, he smiled at the memory. While Maggie had roamed through those tables of musty books, he had thumbed through a few of them just to alleviate the boredom. It seemed that this guy, e. e. cummings, wrote pretty good stuff and didn’t seem to give a shit about capital letters. That was something Prosper, who had never finished high school, could get behind.
Prosper stared at the note for a long while. Then he crumpled up the paper and threw it as far as he could. He watched as a breeze took it and playfully bounced it around in no particular direction, like a kite without a string.
“I carry your heart in my heart too, Maggie,” Prosper whispered into the wind.
And then he got on his Harley and rode as hard as he could away from her.
Maggie sat on the porch swing with a blanket wrapped around her and the child who had fallen asleep in her lap. Raine was a beautiful little girl. With her mother’s smooth ebony hair and her father’s striking blue eyes, the child was a perfect combination of both. Maggie loved her baby girl fiercely, wholly, and without reservation. Nothing made Maggie happier than to see Raine smile.
Life was good, for the most part.
