“What?”
“All right, go see Dad.”
There it was. I gave in again. I had no idea why I constantly did this except perhaps the soft look and beautiful smile Max was giving me now.
To avoid it and its effect on my entire system, I turned within Max’s arm and leaned against him again.
“Steve, when we get back, could use your help hangin’ the Cotton,” Max said to Steve and I closed my eyes.
Steve was always busy, always doing something, always had a project. He’d love helping Max hang the Cotton.
“Sure thing, Max,” Steve said amiably, I heard Mom sniff and looked at her but she had her head ducked.
Then she whispered, “Powder my nose.”
Then she rushed away as Max called gently, “Door to the right, under the loft.”
I sighed because I knew Mom was crying and I had a suspicion Mom had a lot more reasons to like Max now.
I looked at Steve and Steve was watching me. His eyes dropped to Max’s arm at my waist then they came back to my face. His smile was slow and so was his wink.
I smiled back even though panic gripped me.
If I was honest, I knew why I didn’t escape, even though I knew I was facing disaster.
Because I didn’t want to escape.
Now, Mom and Steve might disown me if I tried.
I sighed, leaned further into Max and his arm got tight.
I took a sip of coffee while the men stayed comfortably silent.
Then I asked, “Do you think we have time to sneak in some toast before she gets back?”
My timing was bad and Max’s excellent construction foiled me for Mom had opened the door and its noiseless hinges were my undoing.
“I heard that,” Mom snapped, rounding the counter.
“No,” Max answered my question and Steve laughed.
I sighed again and took another sip of coffee.
“Not to be rude or anything, Max,” Mom started when she hit the counter, “I adore the Cottons but I must say that piece of art you have out front is… um… how do I put it?” She paused then finished in a tone that belied her word, “interesting.”
My eyes went outside and I saw my vandalized rental car.
Then more than likely from stress, mild hysteria and just Mom being Mom, I burst out laughing.
* * * * *
Max’s phone rang after I walked out of Max’s bathroom, dressed, made up, hair done and ready to face the day.
Max and Steve left to talk to Dad after “breakfast” which tasted mostly of strawberries, thank God, but the rest of it didn’t bear thinking about. Mom said she’d clean the kitchen so I could get a shower. I left her to it and now was done and Max’s phone was ringing.
I had no idea what to do, whether Max would want me to answer and take a message or if maybe it was Max, calling me to tell me he was in jail because my father was a big jerk and pushed him to lose control and Mom and I had to come down and post bail for him and Steve.
As I was making up my mind, the answering machine, which was at the roll top but could be heard throughout the house, switched on. I heard Max’s voice order, “Leave a message,” there was a beep and Bitsy’s voice could be heard.