The Happiest Season by Rosemarie Naramore

grateful for the blessings in her life.  He had no doubt she and
her husband had been a team, working together to achieve shared goals.  What
must that be like? he wondered.
    Maggie shifted uncomfortably, when she realized he was
watching her with a kind of intensity she hadn’t seen in anyone’s eyes for some
time.  He wasn’t watching her with … desire, but with a sort of…  Was it admiration? 
She felt her cheeks heat up.  Having a man look at her at all caused her to
flush.
    He appeared to register that she noticed him watching her,
and he gave his head a swift shake.  Suddenly, his cheeks flooded with color. 
He knew he needed to say something, to explain his behavior.  “I’m sorry,” he
said, embarrassed.  “I was just thinking…”
    She nodded, urging him to continue.
    He smiled and scrubbed a nervous hand across his jaw.  “I
was just thinking it’s commendable how grateful you are for what you have.”
    She nodded.  “It may look like I don’t have much but…”
    “No!” he cut in, his eyes widened with alarm.  “That’s not
what I meant at all.”  He looked sick, as the color fled his face.  “I meant
that...”  He sighed and met her gaze full on.  “I meant to say, you have …
everything.”
    She met his intense gaze and smiled.  She turned to her son,
and back to him.  “You’re right.  I’m blessed.”
    When the waitress returned with their food orders, Maggie
could read the relief on John’s face.  Her heart went out to him.  She knew he
feared he’d said the wrong thing, but she’d seen the admiration in his eyes. 
She knew he hadn’t been diminishing her in any way. 
    She reached across the table and gave him a reassuring pat
on his arm.  He met her eyes, and then appeared to exhale with relief.  She
gave a shoring nod, and he nodded in return.
    And then it hit her…  She and John could somehow communicate
without words.  That realization struck her as significant—meaningful.  She
hadn’t had that sort of ease of communicating with anyone but Shane.
    What did it mean?

Chapter
Eight
     
    Rickey tugged John across the parking lot and toward the
entrance to the nursery.  “Hurry up,” he said.  “I want to see sod.”
    John frowned as a worrisome thought came to mind.  Could you
buy sod in December?  He turned to Maggie, who was walking briskly, in order to
keep up.  “Can you buy sod in December?” he asked, his facial expression
perplexed.
    She shrugged.  “I … think so.”  She chuckled uneasily. 
“Well, we’ll find out soon enough.”
    He conceded the point with a nod and then an exaggerated wince,
which prompted her to chuckle again.
    Inside the store, he strode purposely toward the customer
service counter.  The young woman who was manning the counter looked up with a
smile.  “May I help you?”
    “Uh, yes,” John said.  “Do you know if you can lay sod at
this time of the year?”
    She smiled brightly and said, “Let’s find out.”  She picked
up a phone and dialed, and then spoke into the receiver.  “Would you mind
coming to the front counter?  We have a guest with a question for you.”  She
hung up and smiled reassuringly.  “Help is on the way.”
    He nodded and they stepped away from the counter, to allow
another guest to approach.  “I really hope it’s not too cold to lay sod,” John
told Maggie.  “It may be,” he added worriedly.  
    A man soon arrived and the counter girl nodded toward the
group.  He approached with a smile.  “How can I help you folks?”
    John was first to speak.  “Do you know if it’s too late in
the fall to lay sod?” he asked.  “With winter only a couple weeks away…?”
    The man nodded, apparently reading his concern.  “Well, the
truth is, it is late in the season.  Typically, it’s best to lay sod in the
spring or early fall, but…”  He gave them a questioning look.  “Are you unable
to wait until spring?  Are there extenuating