Chapter 19
Collin was still calling every few days. I felt no obligation to answer. I knew there was a good possibility that I wasn’t doing myself any favors by avoiding the situation. A nagging little voice was telling me I should just deal with it, once and for all. Yet that childish voice was still saying…Why should I?
I was grumbling about Collin in my head as I slid my banana bread into the oven. I was enjoying having a kitchen all to myself. It sure beat the dorms where I’d spent nearly a year living off whatever I could create in the small microwave my roommate and I shared.
As I was wiping down the counter, cleaning up my mess and pondering what to make for dinner, there was a knock on the door.
For a moment, I just stood there. Other than Mike, who had a key, we’d never had company before. I wasn’t expecting company so I wondered if I should just pretend I wasn’t home. What if it was one of those crazy people pretending to be the gas man or something?
The knock turned into a persistent pounding. I crept to the window over the sink and spotted a familiar car in the driveway.
Villette.
As soon as I realized it was Max’s grandma I hurried to the door. “Sorry,” I said. “I was just trying to get some banana bread in the oven. Come on in!”
“I should’ve called first, I know,” she said. “But since I don’t have your number, I couldn’t. So here I am.”
“I’m glad you stopped by, it’s nice to see you.” I hesitated, she’d never stopped by before. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” she said as she glanced around. “I know this is probably an odd request but do you mind if I walk through? When Mike was here he was giving Max a hard time. That little bugger said it looked like a flamingo vomited on the walls. Although, I do believe the term he used was ‘hurled’,” she said with a scowl.
“Of course, go ahead.” I refrained from pointing out that it was her house. She didn’t need to ask. It was nice that she did, though.
I traipsed after her. She made little harrumphing sounds as she went. She poked her head into my room and I was glad I’d already made my bed. Next she peeked into Max’s. She came back out, shaking her head.
“It’s not often that I agree with Mike, but in this case, it’s a little hard to argue. I haven’t been here for quite some time. I forgot just how dreadful the décor is. Maybe this is why those daughters of mine refuse visit,” she mused. “It is a bit on the hideous side, isn’t it?”
I let my eyes wander over the coral-colored walls. I didn’t mind the color…for a dress or a bikini. I tried to keep my comment positive. “It’s not so bad. But I like pink,” I said with a shrug.
“Well, my grandson shouldn’t have to live in a pink house. No wonder Mike was giving him a hard time,” she said.
“At least it’s not a pale pink,” I offered. “It’s kind of…a festive pink.”
“Pink is pink and it has got to go,” she decided.
“Max has never complained about it,” I told her.
“That’s because he’s so laid-back. He probably never even noticed,” she said.
She walked back out to the kitchen, I assumed to take in the view of the ocean. She stopped, apparently not noticing my mess until now.
“For goodness’ sake!” she cried as she neared the table.
“I know,” I said, cringing, “I’m sorry. It’s kind of a disaster area. I’ll get it straightened up by this afternoon.”
She was shaking her head. “I wouldn’t hear of that.” She plucked a pair of earrings off the table. “These are lovely! I assume you make them?”
“I do,” I affirmed as I edged closer. “I’ve been making them for a few years. They keep me busy when Max is gone. Only now,” I motioned to the surplus, “I have so many I don’t know what to do with them all.”
“This pair is quite nice,” she stated as she held a pair up to her ears. They were made with sterling silver, pearls and crystal beads. I had several similar pairs spread out across the expanse of the table.
“Take them, they’re yours,” I said.
“I think I will,” she said as she gave me a wink.
“In fact, you can take as many as you like,” I offered. “I have a few bracelets here and,” I slid a few things around, “several necklaces under here.”
“Well, in that case,” she said as she sorted through them. She pulled out a few more pairs, studied them, put a pair or two back and studied a few more. In the end, she chose an additional three pairs along with a matching necklace and bracelet. “And the rest of them?”
I shrugged. “I keep the ones I really like. I don’t know what I’ll do with all of these. I’ll probably end up giving them all away.”
“I think I have a better idea,” she said. “What would you think of letting me take these with me when I go? I would love to set up a display in the gift shop. You could make a little money and I would be able to boast that our gift shop sells handmade, original jewelry.”
For just a moment, I wasn’t sure what to say. My first thought was that she was making the offer to humor me. Yet, the hopeful, eager look she gave me suggested that she really did like the idea.
“Are you serious?” I asked. I glanced down at my work area. I really had gotten carried away. Free time tended to do that to me.
“Absolutely serious!” she proclaimed. She narrowed her eyes and motioned with her free hand. “I can already picture the display, right at the front counter so they will be impossible to miss.”
I had absolutely no reason to say no. So I accepted. We gathered them up, every last pair as well as most of my necklaces and bracelets. Once the jewelry was settled into her car she turned to me with a conspiratorial smile.
“I suppose you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”
“You didn’t just stop in to say ‘hello’ and to look at the walls?” I asked.
She looped her arm through mine. “Not entirely. I was hoping you would humor an old lady. I would like it very much if you’d join me for lunch. Followed by a bit of shopping, of course.”
“Yes,” I said with a laugh. “I think I could handle a little bit of shopping.”
“You just might change your mind when you hear what I am shopping for.”
As it turned out, she wanted me to help her pick out paint.
We spent the entire afternoon sorting through paint samples. Then she decided that wasn’t quite enough. We picked out new comforters for the beds and a new covering for the couch. She asked if I’d mind the painting crew being around.
I had an even better idea. I offered to do the painting myself. At first she was hesitant and I nearly ended up begging. I enjoyed painting. With my dad’s approval, I’d painted my bedroom back home twice. I certainly had the time. Most of all, it would make me feel as though I had done something to earn my keep over the summer. Once I assured her that I really did know what I was doing, we’d gone back into the store and purchased a load of painting supplies.
When we returned she helped me carry everything inside. She took one more look around. “I can’t believe I let this place go so long,” she admitted. “I can’t wait to see it when it’s done.”
“I’m sure it’ll look really nice,” I said.
Despite the huge array of colors we’d sorted through, she had decided on a rich, simple cream for the entire house. Her reasoning was that cream went with everything and it could be spruced up with some color. While I may have gone with warmer tones, it was her house and I understood her reasoning. Also, it would be easier for me, going room to room with one color.
“I think it will make it look bigger, don’t you?” she asked. “Light colors make a room look nice and airy.”
I nodded my agreement, trying to picture it. Anything had to be better than flamingo vomit.
“You know, we plan on giving this house to Max for his graduation present. His aunts are going to have holy conniption fits,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “But that’s just too damn bad. Not a one of them has ever shown an interest the way that Max has. Charles and I aren’t getting younger and you can’t take it with you when you go. So we want to be the ones who decide what to do with it before we’re gone. None of my other grandchildren come to visit at all. I couldn’t even tell you the last time one of them stepped into the winery.”
“Max mentioned that,” I said sympathetically.
“This grandson of mine, he’s the only one who comes to visit because he actually wants to see us. Last summer, he stayed here, at the beach house. But he came over for lunch every single Saturday and he would stay through the afternoon.” She shook her head. “But Mike, he comes to town and he tracks down some friends to stay out all night with. My daughters, well, they only visit when they start to worry I’m going to cut them right out of my will.” She sniffed. “They’re right, too, you know. I would. And they would deserve it. Greedy little things that I raised, every last one of them. Let me tell you!”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or frown so I waited her out.
“But not Max. I think he takes after his mother, bless her heart. I really liked that woman. She still sends me Christmas cards,” she said conspiratorially. “And she calls too! She raised that boy right. When he lived in Chamberlain, he would still come to visit in the winter and I know it wasn’t just because he wanted to get away from the snow. He actually stuck around the house keeping us old coots company. Not like Mike, he pokes his head in the last day, mooches a case of wine and off he goes.”
I thought that sounded like Mike.
“Max, he’s a good boy. He’s a keeper,” she said.
I smiled because I couldn’t agree more. “I know.”
She looked at me long and hard as if trying to decide if I truly meant what I said, or whether I was just humoring her. She finally gave a curt little nod and the corner of her lips twitched up just a bit. “Good, now don’t you forget it.”
I assured her I wouldn’t and she left.
***
The beach house was small. It still took me a little more than a week of working from the time Max left every day until the time he got home. He helped me move the furniture around but I did the taping and the painting. By the time I was done, the beach house looked like a brand new place.
At Villette’s suggestion, I’d left the bathroom and kitchen alone. Two yellow rooms still kept the house looking lively.
We invited his grandparents over so they could see the house when it was done. Max grilled shrimp and I made potatoes and put together a salad. In Charles words, “Villette was tickled pink by the invitation.”
When they left, I noticed they left the remainder of a bottle of wine in the refrigerator. Max noticed it too. He gave me a devious grin. We’d already each had a glass with dinner. This time, the wine was white, not red and I realized I liked it a lot more.
“Should we?” he asked. He was already pulling it out before I answered.
“Sure,” I said as I took out two glasses. Max poured them and then we went outside. It was another beautiful evening. The sun was about to set again. Tonight the sky was swirled with brilliant shades of yellow and orange. We sat on the swing and watched it set. When it was gone, I readjusted myself so my back was leaning against the arm. Max grabbed my feet and pulled them into his lap. He ran his finger lazily across my ankle.
Even after the sun had gone down, the air was still warm and humid. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, just listening to the waves crash in. When I opened them, Max was watching me.
“Thanks for inviting them over tonight. They really appreciated it,” he said.
“We can do it again sometime. I really like them.” I swirled my wine around, it would probably take me all night to finish the rest of the glass. “I assume you know your grandparents are thinking of giving this house to you. But you never mentioned it.”
“I know. I just don’t think it’s right to accept it.”
“Villette seems pretty insistent,” I pointed out.
“When isn’t she insistent?” he said with a smile.
This was true.
“And outspoken,” he added on. “The first day you met them,” he shook his head. “I wanted to crawl right under the table.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “They both looked pretty smug tonight, seeing us together.”
He nodded. “Yeah, she likes you. She keeps telling me so. I keep telling her I knew she would. And then she tells me I shouldn’t have wasted so much time.”
“Why did you?” I asked. “Why didn’t you ever just tell me?”
“When was I supposed to do that?” he demanded with a half-laugh. “Junior year? When you were dating Collin? Or senior year when you were still dating Collin? Last year, when you got engaged?” He shook his head. “I mean, yeah, you guys would break up and I thought about it. But every single time I thought about it too long.”
“And we’d get back together,” I filled in.
“You sure did,” he agreed. “Even then, I was afraid of being your rebound. Or worse yet, I was afraid of saying something and ruining our friendship. I think that, more than anything else, is what always stopped me.”
“Did you really hate working on the paper?”
He scrunched up his face comically. I could tell he didn’t want to answer. “I didn’t hate it. Let’s just say that…” he faded off, obviously trying to find a polite way to say it.
“That you did it for me,” I said with a smile.
“Yeah,” he admitted. “I did it for you. I mean, there are worse things to get suckered into than taking pictures. I knew you needed the help. Since you always liked to come along to make sure I got the shot right, I really didn’t mind it. It’s not something I would’ve done if it weren’t for you. But no, I didn’t hate it.”
I smiled and took another sip of wine and we just swayed on the swing, enjoying the evening.
“That day, in the church,” Max said softly, “when you walked in on your dad’s arm. My heart felt like it had been ripped right out. You looked so incredibly beautiful. I wanted to just tear you away from your dad before he got you to the end of that aisle.” He stopped talking and took a few shallow breaths. I could tell this was hard for him to say. “I kept thinking you had to know you were marrying the wrong person. But you kept walking. They were the slowest steps I’ve ever seen a person take. I think I was holding my breath the entire time. Then you got up there and the flowers fell. I couldn’t see your face but your demeanor changed and I just knew that you weren’t going to go through with it. I didn’t know why or what had changed right then. But I knew and when you came running back down the aisle, you were holding your head high and I was so proud of you.”
“I was so happy you were there,” I said as I laced my fingers around his. “I don’t think I would’ve gotten past the parking lot if you hadn’t been. I don’t…I really don’t know what I would’ve done.”
He smiled, just barely. “When Lanna came out and told you to leave with me, I never thought you would. When you agreed—”
“You looked so relieved,” I said as I squeezed his hand. I could still picture his face, that day in my bedroom. “You were so damn sweet. Especially that first night in the hotel room.”
He scoffed, “Yeah, that. That was an interesting night.”
“I’m sorry I cried all over you about Collin.”
“I didn’t mind, Holly. Really, not by that point,” he assured me. “I was just glad I was there and it was just you and me, finally. I mean, I didn’t dare hope anything would happen with us. I didn’t expect you to stay here so long. Every time you’d ask if I’d mind if you stayed a little longer, I can’t tell you how happy that made me.”
“And now, here we are,” I said. I held out my wine glass to him, he clinked it with his own.
And now…here we were…and I knew both of us were wondering what would come next. I didn’t want to ruin the evening by bringing up those worries. Instead, I changed the subject to more neutral ground and we talked until Max started yawning.
When he walked me to my door he gave me a quick kiss. “Really, that’s all I get?”
“I think that’s all I can handle right now,” he said. Then he placed a few kisses on my forehead.
“You can come in with me. I’ll behave.” I think.
He shook his head and laughed. “I don’t think I will. Not unless I’m all the way across the hall,” he said.
He bounced another quick kiss off my lips and I grabbed him, pulling him back in. I cupped his cheeks in my hand and gave him a proper kiss goodnight. Then I let him slip back to his own room.
Whoever said chivalry is dead is wrong. It’s alive and well in Max. And while I would never want to kill it off completely, every now and then I wished it would just back down and take a nap.