She looked back at Max and said, “Max, you know I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t important.”
“Spit it out, Shauna, and go,” Brody ordered, sounding impatient.
She didn’t pry her eyes from Max. “It’s private. Max, please.”
Max’s mouth got tight as he tired of her game and stated, “We don’t share anything private, Shauna.”
“Max,” she begged and Max’s patience slipped too.
“Honest to God, Shauna, Brody’s in town and we’re tryin’ to have a nice meal. What the f**k?”
She realized she was getting nowhere so she changed tacks and announced, “I’m pregnant.”
The air at our table went static.
I was watching Max, my lungs burning due to the fact I was not breathing, wondering when he “scraped her off” and if there was a possibility this child was his as I watched him blink slowly.
Then he growled in his now lethally dangerous, deep, gravelly voice, “Come again?”
“Can we talk privately?” she repeated.
“No, Shauna, why are you tellin’ me this shit?” Max asked.
“Because it’s Curt’s.”
“Holy crap,” Mindy whispered.
“Jesus Christ,” Brody muttered.
“Oh my God,” I breathed.
“What the f**k?” Max clipped.
She squatted at the table beside Max and looked up at him.
“Max, you have to talk to Bitsy,” she entreated.
“Why in the hell would I do that?” Max asked.
“Because this is Curt’s baby. Because Curt would have taken care of me, of the baby. He told me so. And because, now, Curt’s gone,” Shauna explained.
“You have got to be shittin’ me,” Max bit out and I could tell he was beyond angry, he was building up to enraged and it was my turn to put my arm around his waist.
“Can we talk about this privately?” she asked again.
“No, Shauna, f**k, I don’t wanna talk about this at all. I don’t even wanna know this shit.”
She shuffled closer and put her hand on Max’s knee and my eyes honed in on it as she begged, “Curt would take care of me, you know it, you know he would. I can’t afford to raise a baby by myself.”
“Are you mad?” I asked and her eyes sliced to me.
“What?” she asked back.
“Mad? Insane? Crazy? Nutty? Bonkers? Round the twist? Mad?” I explained, my voice rising.
“Of course not,” she snapped.
“Then first, get your hand off Max’s knee,” I snapped back and her hand shot away like Max’s skin burned. “Second, trot away and find someone else who might be heartless enough to help you try to fleece Bitsy out of money. You have got to know Max would never do that.”