Page 51 of The Weekend Crashers
“I want one of these for our den,” Lexi says.
No one asks her why Dove didn’t come along, and she doesn’t offer an explanation. Laurel, too, made a point of sitting it out. Maggie understands that Dove is frustrated by thedistraction on their honeymoon. She’s not quite sure what Laurel’s upset about.
Barclay ambles over and asks if they have any questions.
“I do,” Lexi says. “Does axe-throwing really count as bushcraft? We’re not even outdoors.”
“Young lady, axe-throwing requires strength, accuracy and precision. All vital in bushcraft. It’s also a test of mental focus and discipline. So you can tell me you’re not up to the challenge. But that’s about the end of this here discussion.”
Lexi puts her hands on her hips, widening her stance. “Don’t you worry—I’m up for it.”
A young man holding a clipboard and dressed in a Hatchet House T-shirt gathers all of them together. He gives a fifteen-minute safety briefing before handing things off to Barclay. Apparently, Aidan’s father-in-law is quite the accomplished axeman. Everyone at the place knows him by name, and the safety instructor admits Barclay could “probably teach him a thing or two.”
Barclay and the instructors give them tips for finding their grip and maintaining a solid stance. Then Barclay geeks out on them about technique and Maggie’s mind wanders. So does her eye.
Aidan is out of her direct line of vision, so she has to pretend to check out the vintage axe display while sneaking glances at him. Somewhere between the last bushcraft activity and the end of the brioche class, she admitted to herself that she’s attracted to him. When she looks at him, she finds herself sort of memorizing the color of his eyes, the arch of his brows, the line of his jaw. It’s an old habit from the days before iPhones, when she could spend all night talking to someone at a party and then literally never see them again.
Maggie is already thinking of a near-future version of herself, maybe a month from now, when she’s forgotten how itfeels to be around an attractive man like Aidan. The flutter she feels in her chest, the sense of being acutely awake... it will be like it never happened.
Aidan is looking straight ahead at Barclay, but as if sensing Maggie’s eyes on him, he turns toward her. She quickly looks away, heart pounding. She feels like a teenager. If Piper knew this was going on in her mind, she’d tease her. For good reason. Maybe, after the weekend, she’ll confess. They’ll have a laugh about it driving back to the city together.
“When I use the term ‘throw arc,’ I mean the final path of your axe once it leaves your hand,” Barclay says. “Remember: left-to-right accuracy is far more important than vertical. Even though the targets are circles, your axe landing even a millimeter too far left or right is a miss. Vertically, you have the entire length of the blade that can be in the bull’s-eye.”
The safety staffer helps everyone select a comfortable axe for themselves. Maggie chooses one with a thin handle with flat edges for grip. When it’s time to separate into Team Bachelors and Team Knitters, Lexi says, “How’s this scoring system gonna work if the guy team has twice as many throwers as we do?”
“Why don’t each of you throw twice?” says Aidan’s nephew, the actual bachelor of the party.
“Because then we’re going to get tired out twice as fast,” Piper says. Maggie gives her a thumbs-up for the good point, and Piper rolls her eyes at her enthusiasm.
After much debate and an embarrassing display of math skills, they figure out a system where only half of the men’s throws count toward the tally. To keep score, Barclay oversees Team Bachelors while Belinda maintains the tally for Team Knitters. Maggie’s played her fair share of darts games, and that makes the scoring system somewhat familiar to her: Hitting the bull’s-eye garners the most points, with each ring decreasing in value moving outward.
Each team forms a short line at the shared target lane. Lexi’s taking the first throw for their team, and Aidan is up first for the bachelors.
“Ladies first,” Barclay says, and Lexi shakes her head as she steps up to the demarcation line at their lane. Then, using a two-handed grip, she raises her axe straight overhead, leaning slightly forward as she throws. She hits the target near the center.
“Excellent first throw,” Barclay calls out.
“Don’t be patronizing,” Lexi says.
Whiteboards with markers are mounted on each side of the wall, and Belinda hesitates before calculating their team’s first points.
“The axe is touching two zones.” Belinda consults with Barclay.
“Go by the zone where the majority of the blade sticks. If it’s equal, we go with the higher score.”
Aidan is up next. Maggie wants to watch, but she’s certain her more-than-casual feelings will show all over her face. She makes small talk with Lexi instead.
He lands the bull’s-eye. Of course he does.
When it’s Piper’s turn, she laughs while trying to maintain a good stance.
“Come on, city girl,” Barclay calls out. “Do your team proud.”
“No pressure!” Belinda says.
“You’ve got this,” Maggie chimes in.
Piper releases her throw and the axe misses the target entirely.
