They did their trademark hop-off-the-bike-before-it-stops and steered them into the garage. Their timing could not have been worse. They found Hawkeye and Margaret in there kissing like there was no tomorrow. Kris cleared her throat. Hawkeye and Margaret sprang apart and blushed.

"Can Mary sleep over?" Kris asked.

"Sure," Hawkeye said.

Kris looked at Margaret.

Margaret nodded.

Kris and Mary gave each other high fives.


At midnight, Margaret came down the steps and told Kris and Mary that the door was locked and that she was going to sleep and so on and so forth. She then went back upstairs.

"How long do you give them?" Hawkeye asked.


"How long before they manage to scare themselves stupid?"

"Oh, I say they're up here around one thirty or so," she replied.

"Nah, one o'clock the latest," he said.

01:15 hours that night

Kris and Mary thundered up the stairs.

"There's a ... deranged psychopath ..." Mary said.

Margaret and Hawkeye exchanged a glance that clearly said Where on earth do they come up with these things? "Are you going to stay down there or sleep up here?" Margaret asked.

"Down there ... um ... could you ... help us see if the deranged psychopath is down there, though?" Kris asked.

"Yeah, sure," Hawkeye said. He got out of bed and walked down the stairs with Kris, Mary, and Daisy following. He was going to turn the light on when Kris exclaimed, "Don't do that! What if there is a deranged psychopath and he sees the light?!"

"There is no deranged psychopath," Hawkeye said, through clenched teeth. It was one thirty in the morning and his patience were wearing thin.


The girls screamed. The noise had come from the kitchen, so Hawkeye walked in that direction. Against Kris and Mary's protesting, he turned on the light. The girls looked around the kitchen, expecting to see some strange person. Instead, they saw Daisy's food dish flipped over and water on the floor by the water dish.

"Clean that up, please ... g'night," Hawkeye said as he went back up stairs.

"Would I be correct in assuming that there is no deranged psychopath downstairs?" Margaret asked Hawkeye when he walked into their bedroom.

"Yes," he snapped.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"What's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong! It is now June eight and on this day when I was ten, my mother died. That's what's wrong!" Hawkeye snapped.

"Oh, Hawkeye, I'm sorry," she said, her voice reflecting her feelings. She reached out to hug him, but he moved away.

"I don't want your sympathy! It's not going to change the past!"

"You're right, it won't change the past," Margaret agreed quietly. "It might make you feel better now, though."

"I don't think so," he said.

"Want to talk?"


"Hawkeye, keeping it to yourself won't help; believe me, I've tried. You have got to open up to people and tell them what you are feeling. I lost someone really close to me too, remember?"

"I really don't want to talk about it, Margaret."


"Oh, all right."

They talked for an hour until they both fell asleep.

June 8, 1959

That morning, Daniel came over. He wasn't like himself, but not nearly as upset as Hawkeye.

"Daniel, would you mind watching Kris and Mickey until tomorrow?" Margaret asked.

"I'll watch them, but why?" came the reply.

"Um, can I tell you tomorrow?" Margaret asked.

Daniel nodded.

"Thanks so much!"

Noon that day

"C'mon, Hawkeye," Margaret said. She was trying to get him to get into the car without telling him where they were going.

"Who's going to watch Mickey and Kris?"

"Oh, we're not going far," she lied.

"Okay, fine," he grumbled as he slid into the car.

They drove past familiar places, like the Casey hotel, but nothing really registered in Hawkeye's mind. He was too busy feeling sorry for himself. After seeing the sign that said "Welcome to New York" he realized that Margaret had lied to him about where they were going.

"Okay, what's going on?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Margaret asked.

"Where are we going?"

"Crabapple Cove."

"Crabapple Cove?"

"Yeah. You know, Crabapple Cove, Maine."

"Today of all days ... why?"

Margaret didn't answer him. For the rest of the six and a half hour drive, there was silence. A totally uncomfortable silence. The minute they reached Crabapple Cove, Hawkeye said, "It's on Pine Road." Margaret didn't ask what the "it" was; she already knew.
It was a small cemetery. As they walked in the direction of his mother's grave sight, Margaret noticed that there were several markers with Pierce written on them. She shudder, realizing that one day, she might lose Hawkeye. She quickly pushed that thought aside. Suddenly, Hawkeye stopped walking and knelt on the ground by a grave marker. Margaret stood by him with her hand on his shoulder, but that didn't feel right. "I'll go wait in the car," she said in a whisper.

"Stay," he said.

She knelt next to him and hugged him. Margaret could tell he was crying because he was shaking. She stopped herself before she could say that it was okay, because she knew it wasn't. The best thing to do, she decided, was just be there for him. After a long while, he pulled away and said, "Let's go home." She nodded. They stood, but before walking away, Margaret said something, very quietly. She said, "Thank you for bringing Hawkeye into the world."

"Did you say something?" Hawkeye asked.

"No. Come on, Hawk, let's go home."

I'm incredibly sorry if I misled any of you, but this is
not the end of "The Girl Next Door." As you read this, "The Girl Next Door Part Four" is in the works. Also, I make no guarantee that that will be the last, either, but it might be. If you have any questions, comments, or pleas, send them to me at CountryChick4077@aol.com

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