Shane was scraping uneaten food off of plates into the trashcan and putting away leftovers as Amanda rinsed dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. But it wasn’t what they were doing that captivated me. It was how they were doing it. They worked silently, but cohesively, moving around each other as though it were a dance they had practiced to perfection. I watched as they exchanged loving glances and quick kisses. I saw the light touches Shane gave Amanda as he moved around her, as well as how her body leaned into every graze of his fingers.
And as I stood there observing them, I knew I was witnessing a special moment in time that I’d always remember. It would be a moment I would hope to recreate in my own life. A moment that I would lean on when things in my life weren’t going as planned. A moment that would always reassure me that true love did exist.
***
Two days had passed since what would probably go down as the most memorable Christmas dinner in history, and by nine o'clock Friday night, I was becoming sufficiently bored. Adam and I had texted back and forth a few times about nothing in particular. Amanda was busy staying glued to Shane’s ass, Tina was visiting family upstate, and the rest of my girlfriends sucked. That only left Max, but I didn’t want to hang out with him either.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. I did want to. But I just wasn’t sure where I stood with him. I’d been giving a lot of thought to our friendship, and I was starting to think that maybe it wasn’t worth everything I was sacrificing for it. I enjoyed hanging out with him, but was that enough? I had already lost Adam once because I was wrapped up in having "fun" with Max. And I just couldn’t justify losing who was potentially the love of my life for someone who was just a good time once in a while. In fact, I was pretty sure doing so would make me the dumbest motherfucker on the planet.
But this is Max we’re talking about here. I tried to envision my life without him in it and I just couldn’t. He was like a dejected little kitten who lived in the alleyway behind your house. Once you fed him and showed him a little kindness, he laid claim to you, whether you wanted him to or not. And while being Max’s wasn’t as important to me as being Adam’s, it was still something I couldn’t just throw away. Could I?
This shit was like a bad soap opera. I needed to stop harping about it and do something productive with my time. But as I pulled the covers over my head and drifted off to sleep, I decided that being productive could wait until the next day.
Though I didn’t expect the next day to begin with my cell phone blaring at three in the morning. The caustic ring echoed through my quiet bedroom and jolted me awake. I fumbled for my phone and glanced at the name on the caller ID. Max Samson.
“Someone had better be dead. Preferably you,” I grumbled into the phone.
“Well look who finally decided to talk to me,” Max slurred slightly.
“Are you seriously drunk dialing me right now?” I was suddenly wide awake and completely exasperated.
“Ummm, no?”
“Max, what the hell? Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Late enough for all the bars to be closed,” he quipped, sounding quite pleased with his answer.
“Where are you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Max,” I warned.
“Okay okay, don’t get your titties in a twist. I’m at Mulvaney’s.”
“Isn’t that in West Chester?” My voice was getting louder as my irritation grew exponentially with every passing second.
“Aren’t you quite the little tour guide. How did you know that?”
“Because I went there . . . ," I started to explain, before realizing he was getting me off track. "Does it really fucking matter? How did you get there. Or, more importantly, how are you getting home?”
“I’m not sure what matters to you anymore,” he said sadly.
My heart dropped a bit at his words and I realized that, no matter what decisions I made concerning Max and Adam, I’d be hurting someone. Well, . . . shit. I took a deep breath and calmed down before I spoke again. “Max, how are you getting home?”
His voice was brighter when he replied. “Well, it just so happens that I have this coupon. . .”
Goddammit. I knew those coupons were a bad idea. I sighed heavily. “I’ll be there in forty minutes. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Thanks, doll,” he said before the call disconnected.
And even though I knew he was drunk and would probably never remember most of our conversation, I couldn't help feeling a little thrilled when he called me “doll.”
***
After throwing on a sweatshirt and jeans, I drove to West Chester like a bat out of hell. Thirty-five minutes later, I pulled up in front of Mulvaney’s to see Max half-sitting, half-lying on a bench out front of the bar. I beeped my horn at him and his eyes flickered open. He registered me and then got up slowly and staggered toward my car.
“You look like shit,” I said as I pulled away from the sidewalk.
He chuckled, “Nice to see you too.”
“So what happened? Did your friends ditch you or did you ditch them?”
“You know, I’m really not sure.”
I shook my head, but let it go.
Max leaned his head back and closed his eyes. I thought he had fallen asleep when he spoke again, never opening his eyes. “So, you going to tell me why you didn’t call or text me back?”