“I’ll never forget,” Brody vowed.
I nodded and said, “Yes, I know, you’ll never forget, I’ll never forget, Max won’t ever forget but after this, will you promise to let it go?”
His eyes held mine for several long moments before his lit and he asked, “If I don’t, will you arrange an intervention for me?”
I felt my mouth move into a mini-smile. “Probably.”
“I won’t have to hug Max, will I?” he went on.
“Maybe, if you don’t let it go,” I threatened. “Cotton, Mick, Jeff and Pete too, since they’re the only men I know in town. Oh wait, today I met George Nielson, I’ll have to invite him along.”
Brody gave me a small grin before it faded but the light in his eyes grew more intense and he whispered, “Then I’ll let it go.”
“Good,” I whispered back.
“Coffee,” Max grunted from close.
I looked up at him to see he was, indeed, close and he was holding a cup to me. I also realized that I was still in Brody’s lap and I mostly realized this because Max was staring at my behind in a way that communicated a good degree of displeasure.
I scooted off Brody’s lap, took the cup of coffee Max was offering with a murmured thanks and made my way to the safe haven of Steve.
No one spoke, even when Mom and Barb came back. Max didn’t get close. Instead, he seemed lost in his thoughts as he stared out the kitchen window to the backyard.
I tried not to look at him doing this but I couldn’t keep my eyes from going to him as I sipped my coffee feeling, for the first time since I walked up the steps to his A-Frame, lost and alone.
I felt this way until Steve got close, slid an arm along my waist and put his lips to the side of my head.
“That couldn’t have been easy, with Charlie and all,” he murmured to me. “Proud of you, doll.”
“Thanks,” I murmured back and Max must have heard, for his eyes came to us, that muscle jerked in his jaw again before he turned back to his intense perusal of the backyard.
*
At Bitsy’s request, I stood in the sliding door of the van that brought her to Barb and Darren’s house. The man I hadn’t met who I saw in the house (his name, I found out, was Burt) was her driver.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Thanks, Nina,” she answered and my head jerked at her words.
“I thought you’d be mad at me, putting you on the spot in there, um –”
“Nope,” Bitsy told me, smiling but there was something sad about it. “You know, all these years in this chair, people still handle me like I’m made of glass. It sucks. Everyone’s always taking care of me. That sucks too. Not once, not even once that I can remember for ten years, did anyone need me, make me feel like I still had something to give.” She reached out a hand to me and I took it before she finished. “In there, I had something to give. You knew my day was shit but you trusted me to do it, you trusted me to be strong enough, you knew Mindy’s problems were bigger than mine and you treated me like a normal person instead of someone made of glass. So, thanks.”
“Um… you’re welcome?” I said on a question, she laughed softly and even her laughter did nothing to lessen the sadness in her features.
The laughter died away, her eyes went funny and she whispered, “Wish you’d come here ages ago.”
I studied her then asked quietly, “You okay?”
She pulled in a breath through her nose, seemed to shake off whatever had hold of her and she nodded. Then her eyes slid over my shoulder before they swiftly shot back to me.
Then for some reason, she whispered urgently, “Take care of Max.”
Her mood had shifted yet again and surprised at her tone, her words and the fervor behind them, I started to turn but heard Max’s deep voice asking, “Ready?”
I nodded to him and then looked back at Bitsy, leaned in, gave her a kiss on the cheek and then moved away. Max moved in, slid the door closed then pounded on the roof twice with his open palm.
When the counselor from the rape crisis center had arrived, Mom and Steve left (this was also in order that Mom could get ready for The Rooster). Shortly after that, Max and I said our good-byes to Mindy, Brody and Barb and we went out with Bitsy and Burt to the van.
Now it was time to go back to the A-Frame.
Max stood by me and watched Bitsy’s van pull away and she and I waved at each other when it did. Max didn’t move, just watched silently. Then without looking at me he walked to the Cherokee. I followed.
He didn’t open my door, just bleeped the locks and I climbed in, buckled up and Max had the SUV out of the drive before I got myself situated in my seat.
We were in town when I hazarded words.
“Everything okay?”