"I feel like I haven’t eaten a cheeseburger and a shake for years…” Johnny’s voice trailed off. Maggie giggled and then thought how inappropriate laughing was. None of this was funny in the slightest. But when she looked at Johnny, amazingly enough, he smiled with her, his dimples making their first appearance since Purgatory. Maggie gasped at the jolt of electricity that smile shot straight through her belly. She was in such trouble!
They went to Shimmies again, but this time Johnny pulled into the long line at the drive thru, and Maggie breathed a sigh of relief. She was too tired for drama, and Shimmies was full of teen angst. Maggie took one look at the menu board and knew what she wanted. She always got the same thing. Johnny was still reading the menu, a frown of disbelief between his brows. She guessed that the prices were a tad bit higher than he was used to. Oh well, she’d warned him, hadn’t she?
“Do you need me to buy?” She asked softly. Johnny shot her a look that would have caused her to shrivel up and die had she not grown a rather thick skin over the years. Still, she cringed a little bit. He clearly took her offer as an insult.
“I’ve got plenty of money... but it had better be a darn good burger. The last burger I ate cost fifteen cents.”
“Fifteen?” Maggie squeaked.
Johnny tossed his heads toward the window at the gas station they could see across the road. The fuel prices were displayed on a large marquee. “A gallon of gas used to cost me a quarter. I can’t believe people are still driving cars at these prices.” He looked back at her, his expression unreadable. “You already know what you want?” He changed the subject abruptly.
“I always get the same thing.”
“Not too adventurous, huh?
“Life is disappointing enough without having to take chances on your food. I always go with the sure thing.”
A waitress skated up to Johnny’s window and crouched down so she could see into the car, her pad and paper poised and her eyes drifting over Johnny curiously. Whenever it got really busy, Shimmies sent a girl out to the drive thru on skates to take orders. It gave the place a car hop kind of feel.
“Ready guys?” The waitress popped her gum.
Johnny tipped his head at Maggie and she rattled off her standard cheeseburger, french fry, chocolate shake request.
“Make that two of the same,” Johnny added, his eyes lingering briefly on the girl’s very short shorts, and then looking away quickly. The girl didn’t miss the look, and skated away with a little extra swing in her hips. She even glanced over her shoulder to see if he was watching her. Maggie was pleased to note that he wasn’t.
“None of the girls wear enough clothes,” Johnny murmured, almost to himself.
Maggie raised her eyebrows. “And you don’t like that?”
“Surprisingly enough, no, I don’t.” Johnny sat back in his seat and looked around, his face contemplative. “Some of the mystery is lost if it’s all on display. Half the fun of getting a present is unwrapping it. If you already know what’s inside, why bother?”
They ended up eating their dinner at the little park located about a block off Main Street. Johnny said the park had been there for as long as he could remember. The playground equipment had been updated, and he claimed the trees were much larger than they used to be. He stood beneath one giant oak and tipped his head back, as if trying to count the highest leaves. The sun had set, and the evening shadows merged and touched; the gray of twilight lay softly all around them. They ate in reflective silence, before Johnny spoke up randomly.
"So you always get the same thing?"
"What?"
"You said life was disappointing enough without having to take chances on your food. You said you always go with the sure thing."
Maggie shrugged, dipping a fry into her shake. "When I find something I like I tend to stick with it. Less risk that way, I guess."
"Huh. I guess that makes sense.”
Maggie shrugged, using nonchalance and bravado to cover what had been a very unsettled life.
“Your mom and dad aren't around?"
“They died when I was ten. I've spent the last few years living in different homes. It hasn't been too bad."
Johnny looked at her gravely, his mouth drawn into a long line. He didn't challenge her.
"I got to come live with Irene after Roger died. He didn't want her to take me in. I think she would have anyway, but worried that he would make my life miserable...more miserable than not having a home at all.”
"Roger Carlton messed up both of our lives," he bit out.
"Roger Carlton messed with many lives," Maggie retorted, her thoughts on Irene.
"It seems kind of unfair that you know so much about me but I don't know anything about you," Johnny remarked, changing the subject. Maggie was glad. They had had the conversation about Roger before, whether Johnny could remember it or not.
Maggie ducked her head. She didn't tell him that once he had known everything about her. "You probably know more than you think."
"Well, I know you like to dance."
Maggie nodded and held up a finger. One thing.
"And you're good at it."
Maggie smiled, shrugging, but she lifted another finger. Two things.
"Oh, please. You know damn well you're amazing. You don't think I watched you the other night? The whole place was glued to your every move," he paused. "I was egging you on, you know. I wanted you to go out there. I wanted to see you..."
"You did not!' Maggie interrupted hotly. "You didn't think I could. You think I'm unattractive and boring.”
"Keep tellin' yourself that, Maggie, and I'll keep telling myself that, and we'll both be happier in the long run."
Maggie jumped to her feet, abandoning her dinner and the boy who seemed intent on hurting her feelings, for the safety of the swings. She had barely gained any height, when strong hands gripped her waist as she descended and pushed her skyward once more. Johnny continued to push her higher and higher as Maggie closed her eyes and let the wind she'd created dance in her hair and lift her into the night. After a while, Johnny stopped pushing, and Maggie reluctantly slowed, looking around to find him.
He sat on the swing to the right of her, but he wasn't swinging. He sat with his long legs spread before him, his arms bent and hanging loosely from the chains.
"I wasn't a sure thing," he commented as she slowed to a stop.