I glared at him.
He just kissed my forehead through his waning laughter, let me go and went to the fridge.
“Oh my,” Mom breathed in my ear, “he’s got an amazing laugh.”
She was right about that too.
“Mom –”
“I like him.”
I felt my eyes get wide again and I reminded her loudly, “You’ve never even met him!”
Max, his hand curled around the filled creamer, turned to me, lifting the creamer, shaking his head and looking like he wanted to laugh again. At the creamer, my conversation or something else that struck him funny, I didn’t know and at that moment didn’t care.
“I still like him,” Mom said in my ear.
“Mom –”
“I like the way he talks to you.”
I liked that too.
Still, I said, “Mom –”
“And it sounds like he was there when Lawrence was being Lawrence.”
“He was.”
“The whole time?”
I thought about it and realized he was, the whole time. Except for the first few moments, Max quickly dressed and was with me the instant he could get to me. He had my back the whole time, part of it literally.
“The whole time,” I said more quietly.
“And he called Lawrence the d-word,” Mom told me and I couldn’t help it, I giggled and so did Mom.
“Yes, he did,” I said.
“You’ve got to like a man who thinks Lawrence is the d-word.”
She was right about that too.
“Mom –”
“What’s he doing now?”
I watched as Max poured coffee.
“Making me coffee.”
“Steve does that for me too,” she told me contentedly. “Brings me a cup in bed nearly every morning.”
I looked at the floor and said, “That’s sweet Mom and I’m so glad you have that now. Anyway, enough of this. How’s Steve? Is he doing okay?”
“He’s Steve, never has a bad day, God love him.”
“And you do too,” I said softly.