“No, darling, we won’t. I want to be close to my Neenee Bean,” Mom shot back.
Jesus, I forgot how much I like your Mom, Charlie said in my head, sounding amused, and I rolled my eyes.
“Mom –” I began but Steve again spoke over me.
“We’re not, love. We’ll come up, we’ll stay a few weeks but we’ll hook up at the park, give them privacy.”
“There’s enough privacy with us in the RV outside Max’s house,” Mom retorted then looked at me. “Though, we’ll probably use your bathroom and, maybe, your kitchen.”
I sighed.
Steve spoke. “Nellie, it’s not gonna happen.”
“It is.”
“No,” Steve said in a firm way that couldn’t be denied, even by my Mom, “it isn’t.”
Mom glared at Steve knowing, by Steve’s tone, there was no way she was going to get her way. Steve calmly accepted her glare. Trudy arrived with four coffees.
“Thank you,” I said to Trudy and tried not to smile at the realization that Mom had her Max. I’d been happy for her when she found Steve. Now, understanding, I was ecstatic.
Max came back and slid into the booth beside me while I poured milk in my coffee.
“Today’s plans have changed, babe,” he announced before taking a sip of his and I looked at him.
“Plans?” I asked, not knowing we actually had plans.
“Yeah, gotta be at George’s in an hour.”
“George’s?” I queried.
“Though, thinkin’ this is good, you can meet him, feel him out.”
“Meet him? Feel him out?” I parroted.
Max turned fully to me and put his arm on the back of the booth.
“Yeah, he’s the attorney I was tellin’ you about,” Max reminded me and I stared because the phone call hadn’t been from George, it had been from Bitsy.
“Why do you have to go there?”
Max’s easygoing nature vanished and his jaw got tight before he answered, “Curt’s will is bein’ read and, apparently, I’m mentioned.”
I leaned into him and put my hand on his thigh before I breathed, “Really?”
“Yep,” Max answered, not looking happy.
“What’s this?” Steve asked.
I looked at Steve then at Mom. “Curt is the man who was murdered.”
Mom’s eyes got wide, she leaned forward again and breathed, “Really?”
“Jesus, it’s uncanny, like two peas in a pod,” Max muttered, his eyes moving between Mom and me.
I decided to ignore that and told Max, “That’s bad form, Max, informing you that you need to be at the reading an hour before the actual reading.”
“Like I said,” Max told me, “George is busy. Bitsy said he’s covered. He set up the reading, told her when and called her awhile ago to get her help gathering everyone.”
I didn’t repeat it but this was bad form. Perhaps this George person did need help. That was good considering I needed a job.
“So, our plans?” I went back to the earlier topic.
“You and me go to the reading, before that we find out when the insurance people are gonna come to take a look at your car and then we go see Mindy.”
I hadn’t forgotten about Mindy but I also hadn’t quite figured out my Save Mindy from Herself Strategy. I had forgotten about the car.
“Can we go to the reading?” Mom asked. “I’ve never been to the reading of the will of a murdered man.” Her eyes searched the ceiling without her tilting her head up then she looked at us again and finished, “Or any man for that matter.”
Max and I looked at Mom but it was Steve who spoke. “Nellie, you can’t just sit in at one of those things like you’re goin’ to watch a play.”
“Why not?” Mom asked Steve. “I’ll be quiet.”
“Like that’ll happen,” Steve muttered and Mom gasped in affront.
Max chuckled.
“We’ll go out,” Steve said to Max. “Check out that RV park and we’ll make dinner reservations for that Rooster place you were tellin’ me about…” he paused and glanced at me, “for just Nellie and me, leave you two be for awhile.”
“RV park?” Max asked.
“I’ll explain later,” I told him quickly.
Mom spoke to me. “I want to know what happens at the reading the minute you know.”
“Mom, it’s not exactly your business,” I informed her.
“Sweetie, everything that has something to do with you is my business,” Mom informed me.
“Okay, agreed, but this has to do with Max.”
“And Max is with you therefore it has to do with you so I want to know everything, immediately.”
“She’s got you there,” Max murmured and she did which was exasperating.
“Where’s my granola?” I asked, craning my neck and searching for signs of Trudy.
“Max, sweetie,” Mom called, but her head was bent, she was digging in her purse, “give me your phone number. Calling Nina is like calling England even when she’s here. I’ll call you.”
“Don’t do it, Max,” I warned.
Max looked down at me, pressing his lips together and when Mom pulled out her phone, he gave her his number.