Best Date Ever
BEST DATE EVER – September 27, 2025 – Thatcher, Arizona, USA
The gray hand-me-down Chevy Malibu chugged down a familiar street. Phineas had been that way a hundred times but it was his first time stopping at Margo’s house. If he had the address right, her family lived in a flat-topped brick rambler with toys in the front yard.
Phineas got out of his car and cautiously traipsed up the cement walkway to the door. The late September afternoon was still hot in Southern Arizona, but nothing he was not used to. He knocked on the door and a woman wearing a knee-length dress answered.
“Is Margo here?”
“You must be Phineas,” the woman said seriously. “Margo says you’re a senior in high school.”
“Yes,” Phineas replied like he was answering a cop.
“Do you go to church?”
“Yes.”
“What’s your mom’s name?”
“Connie. Connie Webb.”
“Right. I’ve heard of her. What do you plan to do with Margo?”
Phineas shifted uncomfortably. “Well, there’s the dance tonight. But right now, we’re gonna do something for a day date. With another couple.”
“Uh huh. And what are you going to do?”
“Jump in the cottonseed piles at my friend’s farm.”
“Is that it?”
Phineas swallowed hard. “I think that’s mostly it. And we’ll be back with plenty of time to get ready for the dance.”
The woman did not call for Margo. She merely opened the door fully and Margo was standing behind it like a cow in a pen. Most of her brown hair was shoulder length but the front portion was cut into bangs. She wore jeans without holes and a striped shirt. Phineas considered her above-average in the looks department but nothing to get hot and bothered about.
“Hello,” Margo said as if greeting a complete stranger.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“That’s my car out front,” Phineas said, awkwardly pointing out the obvious. He turned and slowly walked down the porch steps. Halfway along the walkway, he turned to make sure Margo was following. She was.
Phineas noticed her hands were clasped together in front of her and she was holding yellow yarn. She dipped and rose too much with every step, like she was walking on slinkies. Margo was not his first choice in dates. In fact, she was not his choice at all. He had tried to ask two other girls to the dance but things fell through. He was going to blow off the dance entirely until his friend, Jake, made a huge deal of it.
“You have to go! We’re going to double date and do that thing I’ve been planning.”
Jake’s date, Ashley, was friends with Margo and knew she was available. All the arrangements happened somewhere on Ashley’s phone. Phineas treated the whole thing as a favor to Jake. And to Margo.
They reached the passenger side of his Malibu and Phineas paused, unsure of the door opening etiquette. He reached down and yanked open the front passenger door expecting Margo to drop inside. Instead, she opened the rear door and tucked herself into the seat farthest from the driver.
Phineas pushed the front door shut and said to himself, “Okay . . . I guess you’re sitting in back.”
He scooted around the car and got in the driver’s seat. After starting the engine, he announced to Margo, “Ashley lives closest to you. We’ll pick her up first and then Jake.”
“Okay,” Margo said robotically as she fiddled with the yellow yarn.
“Are you making something?”
“Crochet practice,” Margo replied, attacking the yarn with a pair of needles.
As Phineas pulled away from the curb, the garage door to Margo’s house opened and a white minivan crept out. It followed within 50 feet of Phineas’ Malibu. When he turned right, so did the minivan. When he turned left, so did the minivan.
“Do you know anyone with a white minivan?” Phineas asked Margo. “I think they’re following us.”
“That’s my dad.”
“Is he planning on following us everywhere we go?”
“Yes.”
Margo offered no other explanation and Phineas seriously regretted doing Jake and Margo a favor. He reached Ashley’s house and parked in her driveway. Before he could question who was going to get out and retrieve her, she appeared on her porch and hurried over to the car. She stared at Phineas in the driver’s seat and Margo in the back. She chose the seat next to Margo and opened the door herself.
“Nee how!” she said to Margo in Chinese as a greeting.
Margo answered in very American-sounding Chinese and the girls began a simple Chinese conversation. Phineas had no idea what they were saying and asked about the language.
“We’re in the same Chinese class at school,” Ashley replied. “We’re supposed to practice.”
“Great,” Phineas said sarcastically under his breath while they continued. He pulled out of the driveway and drove toward Jakes’ with the white minivan trailing.
Phineas honked his horn in front of Jake’s house and his friend emerged wearing a tight Eastern Arizona Gila Monsters T-shirt and with his curly hair styled to look like he was a mushroom. He strutted out to the Malibu and discovered the girls in the backseat.
“What’s going on? Should Margo move up front so I can sit with Ashley?”
“Just get in next to me,” Phineas said dryly. “The girls are happy back there.”
Jake hesitated for a moment before taking the front passenger seat. He turned around and said, “Hi Ash.”
“Hi Jakey,” Ashley replied before returning to her elementary Chinese conversation.
“We’re being followed,” Phineas said, gesturing toward the rear-view mirror.
“By who?”
“Margo’s dad.”
“Why?”
“Who knows?”
“Is he going to follow us everywhere?”
“I think so. Maybe we shouldn’t do that thing you planned.”
“What? That’s the best part of the date. That’s the whole reason you’re here and doing this.”
“Her dad might not like it.”
“So what? We’ve gotta do it. Drive to the farm.”
Jake’s extended family owned a cotton farm that bordered the edge of town. The double-date party arrived after a four-mile drive and parked next to a metal barn surrounded by tractors and other cotton harvesting equipment. A stack of watermelons lay next to the barn’s wall.
Jake popped out of the car and after nervously eyeing the minivan parked behind them, excitedly revealed to the girls what they were about to do.
“You’ve heard of that video game, Fruit Ninja, right? Well, we’re going to do it for real with these watermelons. Phineas brought some rain ponchos so we don’t get messy.”
Phineas opened the Malibu’s trunk and produced four plastic rain ponchos while Jake found the sharp machete knife hidden behind the watermelons.
“Someone tosses a watermelon and the person with the knife tries to slice it in half,” Jake explained as he slashed the machete through the air. “It’s nice and sharp. It’ll go through the melons like butter.”
The girls had opened the rear doors of the car so they could listen to Jake, but they did not show any signs of being interested in holding the machete or tossing watermelons. Jake realized they needed more persuasion.
“Watch Phineas and me do it first. Then you’ll want to try.”
After putting on their rain ponchos, Jake motioned for Phineas to be the first watermelon tosser while he stood near the barn wall with the machete held slightly above his head. He looked like he was about to chop a log in front of him on the ground. Phineas picked out a bowling-ball-sized watermelon and stood about 20 feet away. He used both hands to lob the watermelon with a high arc directly at his friend. Jake swung downward, embedding the machete into the watermelon as it fell to the ground. The melon’s outer shell cracked but most of the damage was caused by gravity and not the machete.
“I need to swing more like I’m hitting a baseball,” Jake concluded. “Try again, but this time don’t throw it straight at me.”
Phineas chose another watermelon and Jake lined up with two hands on the knife, which was raised like a bat around shoulder level. Phineas launched the melon with a gentle underhand toss. Jake managed to slice off a good section. He crowed with delight.
“I told you this would work! Okay, your turn.”
Phineas took the machete and Jake tossed a couple of watermelons. On the second melon, Phineas made nice contact and produced the best cut so far.
“Now for the girls to try,” Jake said, turning back toward the car. “Which one of you wants to practice first?” he called.
Margo and Ashley remained silent and in the backseat.
“Come on. After you practice, we can decide on a game where we keep track of points.”
When the girls did not respond, Jake grabbed the machete from Phineas’ hands and strolled over to the car with it. He held it up to show it was nothing they should be afraid of. At that moment, the white minivan’s driver side door opened and Margo’s dad stepped out. His head and body were shaped like an egg on top of another egg. He wore a denim shirt that drooped almost to his knees.
Jake and Phineas were sure their stalker was going to yell at them about playing with a dangerous knife and attempting to force his daughter to join them. Jake backed toward the watermelons. Phineas dropped his head and waited for the lecture on common sense. It never came. Instead, Margo’s dad gestured toward the machete and said, “Can I take a turn? I’ve always wanted to try something like this.”
Jake immediately passed him the knife and Phineas offered one of the rain ponchos which had been ignored by the girls. Phineas served as pitcher and Margo’s dad swung cleanly through the first watermelon, slicing it in two.
“Oh yeah! That feels good!” Margo’s dad shouted, holding the knife above his head. He looked at the rest of the watermelon pile and asked, “What are you doing with the rest of them?”
“Our plan was to have sort of a contest,” Jake replied. “Maybe keep track of points. The girls were supposed to play too.”
Margo’s dad looked over at the car dismissively. “I wouldn’t worry about them. But I’d be happy to play with you.”
The three willing participants decided on rules for their little contest. Every cleanly sliced melon was worth 100 points, a partially sliced melon got you 50 points, and a swing and miss meant zero points. They each took their best shots at five of the remaining watermelons. In the end, Margo’s dad was the clear winner with 500 total points. His face glowed and he shouted gleefully after his last slice.
“That’s the most fun I’ve had in years! Makes me feel young again! What else did you boys have planned?”
Jake motioned toward a pile of cotton seeds in the distance that was almost as tall as the barn. “We were gonna jump in the cotton seeds if the girls are up for it.”
Margo’s dad looked disappointed. “I’m not sure I should try with my bad knee. I’ll leave it to you kids.”
He returned to his minivan while Jake and Phineas convinced Margo and Ashley to stroll out to the cotton seed pile. The boys did most of the jumping and showered each other in armfuls of cotton seeds. When they had enough, they brushed themselves off and Jake announced with a sneeze, “That’s pretty much all we had planned. I guess we can go home and get ready for the dance.”
The four teenagers got back in the Malibu. Margo and Ashley continued to speak Chinese and Margo’s dad followed dutifully behind as Phineas dropped everyone at their houses. Later that night, when he returned for Margo before the dance, she again sat in the back and her dad again followed to the high school parking lot. He waited two hours in the dark and then followed the Malibu home.
It was a day to remember, but when it was all over, Phineas never really talked to Margo again. He noticed her dad around town but never talked to him either. For whatever reason, no one seemed willing to acknowledge that Phineas had shown the man the best time of his life.
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