Then I did. I burst right into tears.
Within an instant, I was in Max’s arms. I put mine around him and held on tight, shoving my face into his chest and crying like an idiot.
It was several moments later when I heard Cotton mutter, “Women.” Then sounding like he was on the move he asked, “What’s for dinner?”
I felt Max’s body get tight against my wet cheek.
I tipped my head back to look at him, the tears subsiding when I saw his neck was twisted and he was staring toward the kitchen and, regardless of the fact that Cotton just gave both of us priceless pieces of his art, Max’s expression appeared murderous.
I followed his eyes and saw Cotton pulling himself up on a stool.
“Get me a beer, Max, it’s been a long day,” Cotton called, leaning forward to look at the rolls then he spun on the stool and exclaimed, “Right on! Crescent rolls!”
“Cotton –” Max started but my arms gave him a squeeze, Max stopped speaking and looked down at me.
“He just gave us his photos,” I told him. “We can give him dinner.”
“Yeah, I haven’t had a home-cooked meal since Alana died or least not a good one.” Cotton drew in an audible breath through his nostrils and he declared, “And whatever’s cookin’ smells good.”
“Fish pie,” I told him and Cotton grinned.
“I like fish,” he said.
It was low, it was soft but I definitely heard Max growl.
I gave him another squeeze with my arms, let him go and, slower, he let me go too. Then, wiping the tears from my face, I went back to the rolls.
Max got Cotton a beer and I had poured frozen peas into a bowl and was setting them in the microwave when lights flashed on the wall.
“This is a fuckin’ joke,” Max clipped from his place, hips against the sink, beer in hand, unhappy expression on his face as he stared toward the drive.
“Max’s popular,” Cotton noted.
“I’m noticing that,” I replied, also looking out the windows.
I watched a figure come up the steps then I recognized Arlene walking across the porch toward the door. Her eyes were on us and she didn’t bother to knock, she just walked right in.
“Hey y’all,” she called, striding toward the kitchen like she lived there. “Hey Cotton.”
“Heya Arlene. What’s shakin’?” Cotton greeted.
“Don’t shift some of this weight, everything,” Arlene replied, she stopped at the mouth of the U in the kitchen and looked at me.
“That don’t look all that bad,” she observed.
“Um…” I muttered, “hi Arlene.”
“What’re you doin’ here?” was Max’s greeting.
“Damon whaled on her, had to check, see she’s all right,” Arlene explained to Max then turned to me. “Woulda thought it would be worse, thought he really walloped you one. Least it looked like that.”
Something unpleasant was emanating from Max and I took a step closer to him. His response was to slide an arm around my waist and yank me back so the side of my back was to the side of his front.
“What’s this about?” Cotton asked and Arlene turned to him, walking to the bar and putting her forearms on it.
“Last night Damon Matthews backhanded Nina at The Dog,” Arlene answered like she would say, “Last night, I made a TV dinner and watched the News.”
“What?” Cotton exclaimed on a near shout, his eyes moving to me and then narrowing on my cheek. “Is that was that is?”
“Yeah,” Arlene replied before I could speak then she turned to Max and ordered, “Get me a beer, will you Max?” Then without pause she turned back to Cotton and went on. “Damon came into The Dog, manhandled Mindy, Nina here didn’t like that, got in his face. He gave her a shove, she shoved him right back and he backhanded her.”
Cotton was staring at me throughout Arlene’s recitation and now he didn’t look happy. “You shoved Damon Matthews?”
I shifted against Max’s body and said, “He was being, um… rude.”
“Girl, that kid is rude, came outta his mother’s womb rude,” Cotton told me. “But he’s also solid as a rock and mean besides. What’re you thinkin’ gettin’ into his face?”
Max entered the conversation at this juncture, saying in a dangerous voice, “He shouldn’t have touched her.”
“No, agreed, he shouldn’t,” Cotton returned instantly. “But he’s Damon Matthews. Half the acts that boy perpetrates, he shouldn’t do.”
“Nina doesn’t know him and didn’t know that,” Max replied.
“She could take one look at him and know not to get in his face,” Cotton retorted.
“Bottom line, Cotton, he shouldn’t have fuckin’ touched her,” Max stated and the way he did, the room fell silent.
Arlene eventually broke the silence by sharing, “Max messed him up in the parking lot.”