Getting Swamped

[green stuff]

*applauds enthusiastically* Brava! Bravicimo!

 

[BeakerSqueedom]

I've bravely decided that, I will stamp this fic as
"Fantastic".

It'd be even more fantastic if the nice Ruhanna post.

OH!
I GOT A NEW NAGGING STICK!
*Excitedly takes it out and pokes her with it*

 

[Ruahnna]

Chapter 20: Strangely Familiar

Supper was a happy affair. With Kermit’s input, Jane had prepared several things that Piggy found appealing, and for the first time since she had arrived, Piggy was sitting down to hot food with everyone else and getting to eat it.
Everyone went out of their way to be nice to Piggy. She had made such an obvious effort to be a part of this family that the week’s many unfortunate events were determinedly overlooked. If she had looked pristine and glamorous before (despite he odd habit of wearing clothes), she looked positively radiant tonight. Her shoulders showed creamy pink above the décolleté neckline of her dress and her golden curls shone, reflecting the fire’s glow.
If Piggy was radiant, Kermit was positively beaming. He sat with his arm settled in a proprietary way around Piggy’s waist and smiled at everyone with great contentment. His banjo was slung casually over his shoulder, unwanted for the moment.
The twins had come in well-scrubbed and shame-faced and apologized very earnestly and prettily to the generous-hearted Piggy, who forgave them gravely even as she tweaked them for their misbehavior. They took the gentle chiding—and Kermit’s less tender-hearted sternness—as their earned chastisements, but were warmly welcomed into the loving fold of family life with great hopes for their eventually improvement.
In the kitchen clearing, Jane laid out the last tray of stuffed grape leaves, then paused to look toward the firelight. Croaker must have said something funny, for she heard the bright, jingling sound of Piggy’s giggles and Kermit’s breathy laughter. Kermit said something back to Croaker and everyone laughed, and sound surging up toward the heavens like the leaping flames of the fire.
“Oh, James," said Jane softly. “Don’t they look happy?"
“That they do," said James. He came up beside Jane and put his arm around her. “Remind you of anyone?"
Jane blushed and looked up at her husband. “Yes," she said softly, and stretched to kiss the corner of his mouth. James the Frog might need the assistance of a cane to navigate the swamp grasses, but he did not need any help discerning the correct path here. He clasped Jane firmly around the waist and turned in time to catch her quick kiss full on his froggy lips.
“Mmmm," said James contentedly, holding the contact. Jane began to giggle, their lips still happily locked.
“James…” she admonished, when at last he smiled down at her. “The children—“
“Are grown," said James firmly. “And I’m sure they’d understand me wanting to stand in the moonlight and kiss my own wife”
“But the grape leaves…” Jane began helplessly, then laughed at her own absurdity. She put the tray of comestibles down on a convenient stump, then turned and put her arms around her husband’s broad shoulders. “The grape leaves can wait.”
“Yes," said James, and kissed his wife again. After a very satisfactory moment of determined smooching, they turned back toward the fire. James’ arms were still around her waist, and he rested his chin on her head as they looked back toward the bright clearing. Kermit’s banjo was now on his knee, and he was plinking the strings experimentally as he tuned.
“I’m glad Kermit came home," said Jane softly.
“I’m glad he found his home," James murmured significantly, and Jane nodded, and gave a discreet little sniffle.
“Why, Janie," James cried, his voice tender. “You’re not..are you…crying?" He pressed a kiss against her temple.
“Of course not," Jane said wetly. “That would be silly.”

Tonight’s sing-a-long was full of its own silliness. Some of Kermit’s cousins surged to their flippers and clogged with more enthusiasm than skill when he played Cotton-Eye Joe and Foggy Mountain Top, and other instruments and voices and clapping added to the merriment. All seemed right with the world—for the time being, at least.
Into the midst of this cheerful gather slunk one little cloud of discontent. Maggie the Frog, daughter of Jane and James, sister of Kermit and leader-astray of Orville and Norville (who had not, after all, needed much encouragement) slipped into the shadows on the far side of the fire from the kitchen. Maggie had gotten an aural organ full of reprimands and complaints from Orville and Norville instead of the gleeful report of Piggy’s humiliation she had expected, and had left them almost immediately in high color and full of self-righteous indignation.
She watched Kermit and his new bride with something like malice in her usually-pretty face, sensing their happiness in each other like a palpable thing. She could not say why it so offended her that Kermit—who had long been her best bud and closest sibling—had found happiness in his new matrimonial state. She only thought—no, felt—that Kermit had somehow betrayed her—had betrayed all of them, if only they could see it. She watched his slim green fingers dance across the strings, saw him laugh his funny open-mouthed laugh and turn joyfully to Piggy to share some private joke, and Maggie saw red. In the next cacophonous set of requests, she harshened her voice to disguise it and raised it above the others.
“Froggy went a courting’” she insisted, and was happy with the split-second of hesitation in Kermit’s face, and the trusting uncertainty he found in Piggy’s blue eyes. Kermit’s hands danced over the strings, skillful and sure.
“Froggy went a courtin’ and he did ride, uh huh," he sang. “Uh huh.
Froggy went a courtin’ and he did ride, uh huh.
Froggy went a courtin’ and he did ride, sword and pistol by his side, uh huh, uh huh-uh, uh-huh.”
Kermit was grinning, confident of where this song would go and happily expectant of the favorable reaction from the crowd—and from Piggy.
“Well, I rode up to Miss—“
“Mousie’s door, uh huh!" sang Maggie, her clear voice rising above the others. Kermit startled and looked around for his sister. If anyone had looked at Miss Piggy, they would have seen her press her hands tightly together and sit very still, waiting for Maggie next barb to land on her or on Kermit.
Kermit continued to play while his eyes scanned the crowd, then at last he saw her, her face flushed and triumphant. Kermit’s hands stilled on the banjo, but Maggie continued to sing loudly in the sudden silence until the end of the stanza. They stared at each other. Kermit’s eyes were hard, but he kept his voice level.
“Enough, Maggie," he said quietly. “That’s enough.”
Maggie flushed, suddenly aware that she was the focus of hundreds of censoring eyes. Her mouth fell open in shock and anger. No one was supporting her! Even Orville and Norville looked reproachful and grim.
“You’re not the boss of me!" she cried, then was immediately horrified at how childish it sounded.
“Then be the boss of yourself," Kermit returned evenly. “And stop it.”
“I don’t have to—I wasn’t-- You aren’t even-- I hate you!" Maggie flung at last. “I—this is all your fault. It’s your fault for bringing her—“
“Margaret!" James the Frog stood slowly up, his knuckles pale green on the head of his cane. Maggie wilted under his gaze and slunk off, but not without one last venomous look at Kermit. James sat back down, and Kermit realized that every face in the clearing was turned on him, wanting his direction and guidance. This was a role he knew. He pulled it around him like armor.
“Sweetheart?" he said with forced brightness to Piggy. She looked up at him expectantly, following his lead. His eyes said he was oh so sorry, but he needed her help. As usual, he got it, and in spades.
“Yes, Kermit?"
“Let’s do the new one, shall we? The one we did for the movie.”
“Oh," said Piggy softly. She looked flustered, and a little uncertain. “Are you…are you sure?"
Kermit nodded. His fingers danced over the strings, but his eyes were fixed on her. They looked at each other, breathing in and out in the same rhythm, hearts thudding in time. Piggy’s uncertainty fled. She nodded once, then looked down at her hands She did not think she could look at all those expectant faces while she sang this song.
“He’ll make me happy, now and forever! He’ll be the reason my heart can sing…” She raised her face at last, looking into her husband’s eyes. “He’ll stand beside me and I’ll have everything.”
“She’ll make me happy, each time I hold her, and I will follow where my heart may lead. And she’ll be all I ever need.” His eyes said it was so.
“Days go passing into years…” sang Piggy, willing it to be true.
“Years go passing day by day…” Kermit responded, seeing their lives stretch before them.
“She’ll make me happy, now and forever. Until forever, our love will grow.”
“I only know he’ll," Piggy’s voice caught, and her eyes glistened in the moonlight.
“—make me happy," Piggy managed, and found Kermit’s voice blending with hers.
“—make me happy," Kermit repeated.
“That’s all—“
“That’s all.”
“I need—“
“I need—“
“—to know.”
Kermit was never entirely certain who took the banjo from his hands. He only knew that his arms were suddenly occupied, and that Piggy’s face was pressed up against his chest.
“Oh, Kermit," said Piggy happily.
“Piggy, honey," Kermit murmured. There was a collective murmur through the crowd, and someone finally said, “Awwww.” Kermit laughed, waving them off.
“Go find your own pig," Kermit called, but he was laughing.
“I wish!" said another voice.
The tension was broken once again. Although Kermit declined to play any more that evening, handing his banjo off to his brother, Elliott, the music went on for a very long time. Inside the circle of firelight, Kermit and Piggy the Frog sat side-by-side, holding hands and listening to the music fill the swamp.

 

[The Count]

Ah... You sly little manx. Posting a new chapter without any of us knowing it? Well, well, well... It's a good 'un. Seems things are reaching a head between Kermit and Margaret. Really liked the level exchange twain the troubled twosome. Also liked the part where James and Jane share a moment for themselves, like the title says, it's strangely familiar to think of it that way but it just strikes at some long-held memories. Please grace us with the next segment for this or any of your other fictional feasts.

 

[BeakerSqueedom]

Thank you, Ruh.


It was so romantic...
I actually began to daydream after I read this chapter.
I don't usually do this, considering I am stiffer than a penguin.

*Huggles Ruh*

 

[Java]

Your writing is so beautiful. Thanks for the update. It just feels so right how this chapter went.

 

[Ruahnna]

Chapter 21: Nocturne

The swamp sounds of day and evening had settled, replaced by the nocturnal sounds of the swamp at night. Piggy lay with her head on Kermit’s shoulder, listening in drowsy contentment to the strange sounds that now sounded so much like home to her. Kermit moved microscopically, and Piggy the Frog realized that she was not the only one awake.
“Want to talk about it?” Piggy asked softly, and Kermit gave a little groan of self-recrimination.
“Sorry,” he said. “Sorry if I woke you.”
Piggy pulled back just a little so she could see the dim outline of Kermit’s face. “You didn’t wake me,” she assured him. “I’ve just been lying here listening.” She did not point out that Kermit had evaded the question artfully, nor did she need to. Kermit pulled her back into his arms and nuzzled her light golden curls.
“Hmmm,” he murmured, and Piggy leaned into his caress, but she waited. Kermit would get to it when he would, and she would wait for him.
“It’s just…” he began, then trailed off. Piggy’s heart hurt at the unhappiness in his voice, and she pressed her face against his chest, offering comfort.
“We used to do everything together,” Kermit said sadly. “Mags and I used to go everywhere, try anything.” Piggy heard him smile, but it was a small smile. “My Mom used to call us the 'terrible twosome.'”
“I can imagine.” Piggy murmured dryly, encouraging him.
Kermit’s smile was less constrained this time.
“If Mags said there was a place to explore, I explored it. If I said there was a tree to climb, nothing would do but for Mags to climb it. If there was a new swimming hole that needed to be christened, well, Mags and I were right there.” He was quiet for a long moment, thinking back, and Piggy lay there in his arms and listened to the soft sound of his breathing. “She never made fun of my dream of making people happy.”
‘Um hum,” Piggy said, not sure what to say, but wanting Kermit to know she was listening.
Kermit let out a small laugh. “She certainly made fun of everything else, though,” he said ruefully. “If she beat me in a race, she crowed about it for days. If my cannonball didn’t splash as much as water as hers, I heard about it everywhere we went. We were pretty competitive.”
“Were?” Piggy couldn’t resist. Maggie’s visits to Kermit had shown Kermit coworkers a side of Kermit they hadn’t seen before. The pie-eating contest was still talked about holiday parties.
Kermit had the good grace to chuckle. “Yeah…but it was all in good fun.”
“Hate to see what you’d have done if you really meant it.” Piggy rubbed little circles on Kermit’s chest with her soft forefinger.
“Yeah…” Kermit’s voice was soft. “It…it hasn’t been the same since…”
There was an uncomfortable silence.
“Since we got married?” Piggy asked, steeling herself for the truth.
But to her relief, she felt and heard Kermit shake his head.
“No. Before that.”
Piggy lay still and knew that if she could see Kermit’s face it would be scrunched up in consternation.
“Since the last movie,” Kermit said, thoughtfully. “When we were about to wrap, I called home to talk to everyone. Maggie asked me when I was coming home.”
“I told her I’d come home for a visit after we wrapped.”
“You came home after our trip,” Piggy said, remembering how sorry she had been to see him go.
“Um hum. I told Maggie I’d be home for a visit as soon as I could.”
He was silent again, and there was such puzzlement and pain in the silence that Piggy just ached for him, but she did not know what to do to make this pain diminish. After a long moment, she prompted gently, “And then?”
“Maggie said she had to go, and she handed the phone to Onslo.”
“Did you see her when you came home?”
“Sure,” Kermit said. “But she was snippy with me. Wanted to know why I hadn’t come straight home after the wrap.”
Piggy said nothing. It was obvious to both of them that Maggie had been unhappy about their trip together.
“I told her I had things to take care of, and she showed me the tabloid picture of the two of us sunbathing on the beach.”
“Oh,” Piggy said softly. “The one where you were fixing my—“
“That’s the one,” Kermit said, and Piggy had to resist the urge to giggle as she felt a blush spread across her husband’s skin. “But by the time I got ready to come home, she was like her old self—daring me to do things, racing me to breakfast.” He took a deep breath. “Then I came back home.”
“And Maggie was mad?”
“I guess,” said Kermit. “But she always got over it before. This time…this time she hasn’t.”
“This time is different,” Piggy said. “You brought me.”
“Yes, and I haven’t had…I mean….” He trailed off helplessly, caught between what he meant and what he was willing to say.
“It’s okay,” said Piggy. “I guess I’ve kept you sortof busy.”
She heard Kermit’s slow smile in the dark, and there was no sadness in it at all.
“Speaking of…” Kermit teased, and Piggy knew that he was done with talking for the moment. As a matter of fact, so was she.

 

[The Count]

Thank you. Rully nice and quiet like this chapter was, even though there was a lot of sound in the quietness between the The Frogs. Post more when you can, it's a good story and we'd like to see this one through to its end.

 

[BeakerSqueedom]

Ruh, this chapter was just wonderfully typed.
I could feel the closeness of Piggy and Kermit here...
I don't know how to express it...

*Struggles to find the words but can't*

Dern.

It's just..

Ah, you're briliant.
That's the point.

*Headdesk*

You are amazing!

 

[Ruahnna]

Chapter 22: Unlearning and Relearning

Piggy wasn’t a big fan of early rising, but she had been awake for hours. When the sun first peeped over the horizon, she had turned her snout into Kermit’s shoulder and enjoyed the sleepy warmth of snuggling with her frog. Kermit stirred and made a small sound of contentment, but did not rouse, so Piggy lay there as the sun illuminated the swamp and prayed for another sort of illumination. She turned the problem over in her head until it took on phantasmagorical dimensions, then snorted at her own folly. She had never had a close relationship with a sibling and the only sort of jealousy she had ever experienced did not yield any helpful insights. There was a lot she didn’t know, but she knew about pain, and Maggie’s pain was almost visible, a glaring wound in her soul. In the midst of Piggy’s own anger and hurt, she could not be blind to Margaret’s. Still, the thought of Kermit’s quiet unhappiness and the puzzled hurt in his voice tempered any thoughts of clemency.
One thing that eluded Piggy’s repeated attempts to understand was the source of Maggie’s dismay She had never done anything to Maggie (although she had recently considered a number of distinct possibilities), and while she’d received the brunt of Maggie’s venom, Kermit’s confession last night made it clearer than ever that he was the one she was truly angry with.
Hmm…here was something new to think about. Piggy had been mad at Kermit innumerable times, and tried to think if that was useful. Thinking about all those times made her smile, and she thought about how easily all of her anger at Kermit could disappear once she was in his presence. It had never actually seemed to matter to her whether or not he apologized, or defended, or slithered artfully around the hot topic of the day—just being with him had seemed balm enough.
Not so long ago, Piggy was so hurt and angry and dismal that she had considered leaving the performing family she’d been with for so long. The thought of leaving the muppets had been daunting, but not as daunting as the prospect of staying without some proof of Kermit’s love and affection. Piggy stopped for a moment to mull this around, and to give silent thanks for the gift of being here, known and loved, in Kermit’s arms.
Piggy heard the sounds of other folks stirring and wondered. She wondered what king of night Maggie passed, what Kermit’s family had thought of the events of the past week, what she might wear that day and what Jane was cooking for breakfast…. Piggy laughed as the thought made her mouth water. She wriggled out from under Kermit’s arm and went to get dressed.

Jane had been up almost as early as Piggy. She had wanted a quiet moment to work on something, because working with her hands helped her mind to still so she could think about things. She had been thinking about Margaret, and while no miraculous insights had come, Jane had finally conceded that Kermit and James had done all there was to be done until her wayward daughter finally came to her senses.
Despite being angry and disappointed with her daughter, Jane had been a mother too long to not recognize that there was something other than malice or caprice in Margaret’s actions. There had always been a restlessness in Maggie, a colossal impatience with the world, that had often seemed to match Kermit’s dreams of making people happy. But while Kermit’s dream had come into sharp focus and transmuted into reality, Maggie’s restiveness had never found a cause to rally around. She was looking for her own rainbow connection, and it eluded her still.
Jane’s musings were cut short when Cee Cee emerged from the bushes and displayed the fruits of her great-aunt’s labor.
“Oh!” cried Cee Cee reverently. She twirled, and the little skirt flared around her. Cee Cee had never in her life felt so dainty and lovely. “Oh, Aunt Jane—thank you! Thank you!” She threw her arms around her great-aunt’s shoulders and hugged her tight while Jane relished the press of that small, soft body. They grow up so fast, she thought with dismay. Too fast.
“Well, thank your cousin Piggy, too,” said Jane. “That where the fabric came from.”
Cee Cee nodded energetically. “This is like her bathing suit!” she said excitedly.
“It was her bathing suit,” corrected Jane. “After it got torn, Piggy asked if I could use the material.”
“And you did!” Cee Cee said. She twirled again, looking over her shoulder to admire the way the little skirt added the illusion of grown-up femininity to her kindergarten-inspired frame. “Can I—can I wear it today?”
“Yes,” said Jane happily. “You most certainly may.”
Cee Cee skipped off, twirling every third step, and left Jane alone with her thoughts. That was another one with wanderlust in her soul, thought Jane, and she smiled and started to make breakfast.

“Do that again,” demanded Matthias, watching Elliot’s hand move up and down the fretted neck of the instrument. Elliot obliged and Matthias looked appropriately gape-mouthed at his brother. He shifted a little tailed frog in his arms and leaned forward for a better look. The little frog held tight to his dad’s neck and peered with sober interest at what the two older frogs were looking at.
“Kermit showed you that?” Matthias asked unnecessarily.
“Yep,” said Elliot happily. “It makes the key change a lot faster when you’re picking.”
“Can I—can I try?”
“Sure!” said Elliot. He reached his arms out for his brother’s little hitch-hiker. “C’mere, Puddin’—come to your Uncle Elliot.”
Puddin’ (whose real name, Jerrell, had long been abandoned by his parents and siblings) surged happily toward his Uncle Elliot, who swung him wildly around before settling him on his waist. He watched his dad lift the banjo and make a few chords.
“A B C D E F G!” Puddin’ sang, hopeful of accompaniment, but none was forth-coming. Matthias was intent on the musical instrument in his hands, but Elliot grinned.
“Good job!” he said, and he sounded so much like his eldest brother that a Sesame Street native would have turned to look. “What comes after ‘G’?”
“A B C D E F G!” Puddin’ sang again.
Elliot’s smile broadened. “Okay, buddy—we’ll work on the rest of it, okay?”
“Okay,” said Puddin’, who had no clue but liked to be agreeable.
The instrument has ceased making sounds of distress, and was actually producing something moderately tuneful. Matthias gritted his hard palette and tried again, doing a fairly convincing imitation of what Elliot had played.
“Much easier,” he said thoughtfully.
“Except for having to un-learn what you already know!” his brother added.
“Yeah, that’s the rub, isn’t it?” Matthias said ruefully. “Forgetting what you know so you can learn something new. But once you get the hang of it….”
Puddin’ was now reaching for his father. “Dada,” he insisted, and his father laughed and lifted his youngest from his uncle’s arms, trading one noise-maker for another as he passed over the banjo.
“Tonight, I’ll bring my guitar and see if I can do some damage.”
“Good answer,” said Elliot, and went on his own way.

After breakfast and some earnest conversation with her mother-in-law, Piggy had taken a not-so-aimless stroll toward one of the less-frequented swimming holes. Piggy might not be a naturalist at heart, but she knew when she was being watched.
“I know you’re here,” she said flatly. “Your mother told me you’d be here.”
This exhibition of parental omnipotence did little to dispel Maggie’s dark mood, but she deigned to show herself rather than look childish by continuing to hide. She settled herself on a tree stump.
“I wasn’t hiding,” she said coolly.
“Good thing,” said Piggy in kind, and Maggie’s eyes narrowed.
“Like you would have found me if my mother hadn’t told you where I was.”
Piggy crossed her arms across her chest and regarded her self-appointed enemy dispassionately. “I thought you weren’t hiding,” she observed mildly, and Maggie glared at her.
Okay, they both proven that could be complete snots, but that wasn’t going to help. Piggy forced herself to back down a little.
“Maggie, I’m not your enemy.”
Margaret made a rude noise. “It’s over,” she said sullenly. “You won, I lost, okay?”
“This isn’t about winning and losing.”
“Easier to say from where you’re standing.”
“Maybe,” Piggy conceded. “But this is the vantage point I have, so…”
“Look—I get it,” Maggie said sarcastically, but the sarcasm didn’t quite hide the pain. “Kermit picked you instead of us.”
Piggy’s eyes narrowed shrewdly. Áhhhhh. “You mean he picked me instead of you.”
Maggie’s mouth fell open in shock and fury.
“Get out! Get out of my swamp!” Maggie had shot to her feet, her whole body trembling with indignation.
“I was invited,” Piggy said coolly, “and the last time I checked, the swamp doesn’t belong to you.”
“Fine. Then I’ll leave.” She pushed past Piggy, managing to ram her with her hard little shoulder. Piggy gritted her teeth and managed not to retaliate.
“That works pretty well for you, doesn’t it?” she said instead. Her voice was smooth, mocking, and it stopped Maggie dead in her tracks. She turned and stared.
“What are you talking about?”
“When the going gets tough, you seem to find somewhere else to be. What are you afraid of, anyway?”
“Me?” shouted Maggie. “I’m not afraid. I’m not the one who left.”
“No,” Piggy said quietly. “You’re the one who stayed.”
“Yes!” Maggie bellowed. “I stayed. I did what I was supposed to do. Kermit’s the one who left—the one who just had to go to Hollywood and leave all of us here.”
“He’s back now,” Piggy said, but gently.
“But he brought it with him!” She gave Piggy a scornful look. “He brought you with him.”
“Yes. To meet his family.”
“Fine—you’ve met us. You can go already.”
“I don’t think Kermit’s ready to leave.”
“Then—then maybe I’ll go away!”
“Maybe you should--until you can play nice with others.” Piggy's voice was still calm, but now it had an edge to it.
Maggie wanted to hit her.
“How dare you!”
“I dare pretty easily, sweetie, but then, I guess you think that’s your territory, too.”
Maggie tried to think of a snappy comeback but failed spectacularly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped, marching away, “and since it can’t be that relevant—“
“Kermit left.”
Maggie stopped in her tracks and turned to stare at Piggy, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
“What?”
“I said, ‘Kermit left.’ Left the swamp, left you.”
The color was draining out of Maggie’s face. He green pallor was dimming to chartreuse.
“He did not—“
“You were supposed to be the adventurous one, right? Kermit was the one who was more timid, always followed your lead.”
“That was—we were just—“
“Kids,” Piggy finished levelly. “And now you’re not, and Kermit is the one who went out into the great unknown and had adventures.”
“He was doing that before he met you!” Maggie flung.
“True,” Piggy conceded, cocking her head on the side. “And he was doing it after he left you.”
“Kermit didn’t leave me!” Maggie wailed, feeling the hot tears spring up in her eyes. She glared at Piggy, her hands balled into hard little fists, her shoulders hunched like a fighter.
“That’s right,” Piggy said gently. “He didn’t leave you. He didn’t leave the swamp, either. He just…followed his dream, and it took him some unexpected places.”
Maggie humphed and turned away.
“Kermit’s dream has made a lot of people happy, Maggie. You should be proud of your brother.”
“Don’t you tell me what I should and shouldn’t do!” Maggie shouted. “And what do you know about it, anyway! I am proud of Kermit—I’m more proud of him than anyone!”
There was a silence, then in that silence, Piggy said quietly, “I know that must mean a lot to Kermit.”
“I never told him!” Maggie flung, then stopped as though stung. “I…I never told him.”
Piggy’s voice was gentle again, all the steel gone. “Then maybe you should. I know—“ She stopped abruptly at the challenge in Maggie’s eye, rephrasing her comment. “Your opinion means a lot to Kermit,” she said at last. “He’d like to know he had your approval.”
“Kermit…wants my approval?”
Piggy nodded. “I think he needs it.”
Maggie’s face crumpled, her lips trembling. “Kermit—needs my approval,” she said haltingly, as though the idea had never occurred to her.
“He’d like your blessing.”
Maggie bristled immediately, but Piggy put up her hand. The enormous diamond sparkled in the sunlight and Piggy wished she’d used her other hand, but what was done was done.
“Not for marrying me,” she said distinctly. “You don’t have to like that. You can dislike me all you want, but Kermit would like to know that you’re not mad at him anymore. For leaving. For following his dream out of the swamp.”
“I didn’t realize....” Maggie said, shaken. “I…I never meant….”
Piggy would have liked to put a comforting hand on Maggie’s arm, but knew it was a bad idea. She settled for a cautious smile instead. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “It’s not too late to fix it if you want to.”