Weekend in Maine

“Who’s picking us up from dance, your dad or my mom,” Jillian asked.

Riley put her tap shoes into her dance bag and zipped it up. “I think it’s my dad. Didn’t your mom have a work meeting tonight?

“Yeah, that’s right. Do you think your dad will take us out for pizza?”

“It’s Thursday night, so probably yes. But it won’t be as good as your mom’s homemade veggie lasagna or turkey chili,” Riley said.

“I know, but who doesn’t love going out for pizza.” 

“Someone who eats pizza every Thursday.” Riley grumbled.

Jillian shrugged. “I guess it’s different being raised by a single dad than by a single mom.”

“Definitely,” Riley agreed.

Just then her dad Tim popped his head into the studio. “You girls feel like pizza tonight?”

“Dad, you’re not supposed to be in here. Can you just wait in the waiting area. We’ll be done in a sec.”

He looked right and left, his expression one of mock horror. “This isn’t the girls dressing room, is it?”

“No, Mr. Chandler,” Jillian laughed. “Just the practice room.” She and Riley had been carpooling since sixth grade, when they’d become best friends. Having single parents who worked full time made it challenging to get the girls to their many activities and meet ups with friends. The two parents had developed a good rhythm of coordinating their schedules since the girls did so much together.   

“But parents aren’t supposed to come back here,” Riley tried to sound indignant. “We’re eighth graders. You don’t need to baby us.”

“Okay, I get it. I’ll wait with all the dance moms in the waiting area.”

“We’ll be quick,” Jillian said. She was as comfortable with Mr. Chandler as she was with her own parent after all this time. Her parents had divorced when she was eight, and her dad had recently remarried and moved across the country. She used to complain about having a part time father, but now it felt like she barely had a father at all.

When Jillian and Riley walked into the waiting room, Mr. Chandler’s face broke out in a grin. “I thought we could go to either Giuseppe’s or Sabino’s. Those are both on the way back to Jillian’s house, and I promised to drop her off by 8:00.”

Riley shrugged. ”Either of those sounds good to me.”

He grabbed the dance bags out of both of their hands, hiking them on his own shoulder and making a face as if they were heavy. “Jillian, do you have a preference?”

Jillian looked at this man who had filled a gap in her life. “I’ve never been to Sabinos.”

“Never been?” Mr. Chandler gave her an incredulous look. “You haven’t really lived until you’ve had their four-meat pizza.”

“Don’t worry, we can also get a veggie pie,” Riley said. 

“As long as you promise to try both.” Mr. Chandler opened the door and ushered the two girls out to the parking lot and his waiting car.

***

Jillian’s grandparents owned a house up in Maine, about two hours from her home in Boston. Now that her grandparents had retired to Florida the house was left in her mom’s care. Once or twice a month they spent a weekend in Maine. But now that she was 13, the house felt boring and isolated, so her mom always let her bring friends along.

“We’re going to the house in Maine on Friday, do you want to go?” Jillian asked.

Riley bit her lip. “I do, but my dad isn’t working this weekend, so I need to ask if it’s okay to leave him alone for two days.”

Riley’s dad was a real estate developer, and he often had to work for part of Saturday or Sunday. Riley had been up to Maine with Jillian on many of those weekends.

“I hope you can. My mom has all these projects planned.” Jillian wrinkled her nose like something smelled. “I hate it when she wants to work on the house all weekend.”

“What kind of projects? Riley asked. She loved the little Maine house and was always interested in all the old furnishings and artwork. Things Jillian had no interest in.

“I don’t know, fixing a leaky faucet in the bathroom and installing some new bookshelves in the study. Exciting stuff like that.”

“You know,” Riley said. “My dad is really good at that kind of thing. I mean he owns apartments so he’s always fixing something. Do you think your mom would consider  inviting my dad up for the weekend too?”

The girls exchanged a conspiratorial look. “We’ve never spent more than a few hours together with our parents. But maybe if we can get them away their busy jobs, they’ll  realize how much they like each other,” Jillian said. 

“They’re both in denial about their feelings, but a whole weekend together…” Riley said. “Do you think your mom would say yes?”

“I bet I can talk her into it.”

“Perfect,” Riley said. “I know this will work. I just know it.”

It had been about a month ago that the girls first saw signs that things were changing between their parents, and they had been watching every interaction ever since.

Jillian remembered the how Mr. Chandler had shown up early to pick up Riley from her house. The girls had been sitting at the kitchen table eating homemade chocolate chip brownies, covered with a scoop of ice cream. Her mom was sitting with them, and she held up her hand to cover her full mouth when she saw Mr. Chandler, her cheeks turning pink.

“Wow, now those smell like some chocolatey brownies,” Mr. Chandler had said, giving one of his huge smiles.

Jillian’s mother had finished chewing and put her hand down, but her cheeks were still glowing.

“There are plenty here if you want to join us, or I can wrap some up for you to take home. Jillian and I certainly can’t eat all these.”

 “Thanks, Linda. I might eat one now and take one a few home to pack in my lunch for tomorrow. If that’s okay?

“Of course,” Linda had said, her voice a high pitch. She jumped up and grabbed a plate,  and also a plastic container for the ones he was taking home.

“Can I have some ice cream too?” Mr. Chandler asked, his eyes shining. “I haven’t had a brownie with ice cream since… well, in years.” His wife had been a good baker as well, that is before the accident changed everything. She had passed away when Riley was only four. 

“Of course,” Linda stammered, still nervously rushing around the kitchen, as if she were preparing dessert for a stranger and not a man she talked to every day. 

When she handed him the container of brownies, the had stared at each other for just a moment too long before they both turned away. Things had been adorably awkward between them since that day.  The girls thought it was like something out of a movie. Their parents were destined to be a couple. They just didn’t know it yet. But the girls couldn’t have been happier – especially if it meant they might one day be sisters.

***

Jillian sat in the passenger seat of her mom’s car on Friday evening as they drove the long and quiet highway up to Maine.

“So, Riley and Mr. Chandler will come up tomorrow at about noon, right?” she asked her mom. 

“Yes, it will be just us tonight, but they’ll stay for the rest of the weekend.”

“Thanks for inviting him.” Jillian felt so hopeful. At first Mr. Chandler had said he couldn’t come because he had a dinner meeting on Friday, but then they agreed he could drive up the next morning.  Riley was driving up with him. She wanted to make sure he actually came.

“Well, we’ve been friends for all this time. It’s probably something I should have done before now, but I worried we would have nothing to talk about.”

“You can talk about us,” Jillian said.

Well, yes, that’s all we ever talk about. But I mean we never talk about other things, our jobs, our interests. We never have those kinds of conversations.”

“So now you can.” 

Jillian and Linda stopped at a country diner on the road, and then went to sleep as soon as the settled in at the house. Linda was up at dawn to get ready for their visitors. She went grocery shopping and when Jillian rolled out of bed her mom was back from the store and vacuuming the house.

Linda had barely slept as she thought about two full days with Tim in her home. He was a good man, responsible and kind. He had a great sense of humor and a big smile that made you feel like everything was going to be okay. She would call or text him at any hour if she needed him, and he would do the same.  But this, having him stay over at her house, felt like something completely different.

“Mom, you know there are only four of us here for the weekend, not 10.” Jillian was staring at the large salads and platter of sandwich meats her mom was preparing. Each item was plated perfectly, the ham and assorted cheeses fanned out artfully.

“Oh, well, you know how far the grocery store is from here. I just wanted to make sure we had enough for the whole weekend.” She bit down on her lip anxiously. “And men eat a lot.”

Riley texted when they were 10 minutes away, and Linda tripped over herself putting away the vacuum and getting lunch finished. 

Jillian raced over to open the door, hugging her friend and jumping up and down. “Come in, my mom made this feast for lunch. I hope you’re hungry.”

Linda felt her cheeks burn, but when they walked into the kitchen, Tim was carrying the largest, most colorful bouquet of flowers she had ever seen.

“Hi,” he said. “Thanks so much for having us. Riley said not to bring food.” He gestured to the platters that filled the small kitchen table. “But I wanted to bring something so these are for you.” He handed Linda the enormous vase while the girls looked on. Linda needed both hands to hold it. “Thank you,” she said, looking around for a free space to display her beautiful gift.

“Too much?” Tim said, a shy grin on his face.

She laughed and gestured to the table. “Not at all, but I’ll ask you the same. Too much?”

Tim eyed the platters of food and looked back at her. “Absolutely not.”

Linda put the flowers down on the nearby counter, and they all sat down to eat. 

***

Late that afternoon, they decided to take a walk through the quiet rural neighborhood. The girls walked ahead of Linda and Tim, leaving them alone for the first time that day. Tim talked in detail about a new building he had just purchased. He was updating the apartments before he made them available to rent. 

Linda was pleased that he was opening up to her. “I knew you managed several  buildings, but I didn’t realize you were responsible for renovating the apartments you owned. That’s a lot.”

“Well, I got into this business because I love home renovations and envisioning new spaces. So this is really my favorite part of the job.”

“I inherited this old house, so I know what that entails. One day, I’d like to make some real updates, but for now I’m just keeping my head above water.”

 “It’s a beautiful home, with lovely architectural details. There’s so much potential there.  Riley told me you had a few things that needed fixing,” he said. “I’m happy to take a look tomorrow.”

“Really, you’re my guest. You don’t need to,” Linda said, not wanting to impose. 

“Linda, we support each other. That’s what this is about. So please let me help you.”

Linda wondered what “this” was. Of course she knew, it was about their children, that’s all.  But there was something about the way he opened up to her today, the way he smiled at her. It made her feel… happy in a way she hadn’t in so long.  As a single mom, she didn’t have time for anything but Jillian and her work. But still, it felt nice to be walking along these peaceful Maine streets with this man who was so familiar and yet so new to her.

“Okay, but we’ll worry about that tomorrow. Tonight, I’m going to make a nice dinner and with wine. And then the girls picked out about five movies to watch.”

His nodded, looking into her eyes. “Tonight, we relax, drink wine and watch movies. Sounds like a plan.”

She looked away, a lump filling her throat.

“Perfect – well, I’ve been rambling on about my job. Now it’s your turn,” Tim said. "Jillian talked about this project that was keeping you busy. I’d love to hear about it.”

***

That evening, Linda made pasta with shrimp and cream sauce, and added some fresh veggies to the green salad that was left over from lunch. She needed some time alone to think while she prepared the meal, and Tim seemed to understand that. He was playing a board game with the girls in the living room. She could hear the squeals and yelps. It made her think of having a big family, although she knew at close to 40, that would likely never happen.

Tim’s eyes lit up when he walked in and saw the large bowl of pasta sitting on the table, along with a fresh salad and a bottle of Pinot Grigio, sitting beside two vintage wine glasses. 

“This smells amazing -- and these are beautiful,” he said, picking up one of the glasses and twirling it in his fingers. 

“They’re from my mother. I love antiques, and even though they’re delicate, I like to use them when I can,” Linda said.

“You should…” he said. “It’s better to enjoy something beautiful and precious than to be afraid to touch it.” He bit his lip. “Sorry, that’s didn’t come out the way I intended.” 

Before Linda could answer, the girls rushed in, talking loudly about who won the game and what they planned to do next. Their parents were quiet as they enjoyed the meal.  They both savored the joyful sounds of their daughters talking, laughing, happy.

But it wasn’t long before the girls finished their plates and begged to leave the kitchen. They didn’t ask Tim to join them, and Linda was grateful, although a bit suspicious as to why they were in such a rush to leave their parents alone. She followed them with her eyes as they left the room.

“Those two were sure in a hurry,” Tim said. “I was still going to have another plate of pasta, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Linda said, serving him another large portion. She also poured more of the wine, realizing that the bottle was now close to empty. 

“Thank you” he said. “For everything. This meal, this weekend. Thank you for being there for me and Riley. I honestly don’t know what I would have done if the girls hadn’t become friends and brought us together.” He bit his lip. “I mean, not together, but…”

“I know what you mean,” Linda said. “And I’m grateful too. For having you here this weekend, for helping me with Jillian, and for fixing my plumbing tomorrow.”

“I didn’t know I agreed to do plumbing. I may need to reconsider my offer.” He gave her a teasing smile. 

“It’s just a leaky faucet,” Linda assured him. 

“Okay, I think I can handle that.” Tim chuckled, taking a forkful of his pasta. 

“So, you’re in?” Linda smiled, clutching her wine glass in both hands.

Tim leaned toward her and clinked his wine glass gently against hers. “Yes,” he said. “I’m in.”