The Gamble

Chapter Twelve Norm and Gladys

It was starting to get dark, I was frozen nearly stiff but I sat watching and listening to the rushing river by my cabin.

After Max left that morning, his parting shot so final, I knew I only had one choice and having only that choice, in my head I broke down the problems facing me then I tackled them one by one.

I called Thrifty’s and luckily got someone other than Arlene who answered the phone. This person had clearly not been informed of the ban on taxis to Max’s house therefore when I ordered a taxi he told me they’d send one and it’d be there in half an hour.

While I waited for the taxi, I made the bed and packed. Then I went downstairs, booted up Max’s computer and changed the password.

Then I wrote a note to Max. I wrote it longhand on a sheet of paper I took from his printer. I didn’t edit it or proofread it, just wrote it and left it on the kitchen counter. There wasn’t much to it anyway.

All it said was:

Max,

You’re right. You deserve better.

Thank you for all you did and for being you.

Nina

PS: Your computer password is Beautifulbluff

Then I got in the taxi and paid a fortune for him to take me to the closest rental car agency which was three towns over. I rented a car asking the clerk where I could book a few nights somewhere quiet, somewhere secluded. He told me he knew just the place, made a call, wrote out the directions, I followed them and I checked into my own little cabin amongst a bunch of other little cabins in a little wood by the river.

Then I texted my Mom to tell her I was all right, not to worry about me, I’d explain later, ignoring the fact that I’d had twelve calls and not even looking to see who they were from. Then I turned the ringer on my phone to silent and put it in the nightstand.

Then I drove to the market I saw on my way to the cabins and bought myself enough food to last a few days, drove it back to my cabin and unpacked it.

I made myself lunch, ate it but didn’t taste it.

Then I took the chair that was on the tiny back porch of the cabin and moved it down to the river and sat staring at the water rushing by, my mind weirdly blank, my body totally numb.

What could have been minutes or hours later, I heard, “Nice view.”

I looked to see an elderly man with a cane making his way to me over the snow, intermittent exposed rocks and dead tufts of grass.

I smothered the desire to get up and aid his journey, biting my lip as I watched his cautious approach, wielding his cane, thinking (what I didn’t know was correctly) from my experience with Charlie, he probably didn’t want some strange woman helping him and reminding him of a weakness he wasn’t likely to forget.

Then I looked back at the river rushing across its rocks, the snow shrouded banks, the green pine trees dotting all around.

It was a nice view and I hadn’t even noticed. I hadn’t really even seen it.

I looked back at the man and tried to smile as I agreed, “It’s lovely.”

He made it to my side and stared at the view.

After awhile, not looking at me, he asked, “You all right, missy?”

“Sorry?” I asked back.

I started when he replied perceptively, “Been on this earth awhile, know heartache when I see it. You been sittin’ in the sun even though it’s bitter cold, starin’ at that river for yonks. You all right?”

I pulled in a ragged breath then I lied, “Yes, I’m fine.”

He nodded and continued his study of the river. Again, he did this for awhile.

Then, after another while, he informed me, “I’m Norm. I’m in cabin number three with my wife, Gladys. You want company, she’s a good cook.”

Before I could say anything, he turned and picked his way back over the snow, rock and dead grass. I went back to my silent contemplation of the river and I stayed that way until now.

I got up slowly, my body creaky with cold and inactivity. I dragged my chair back to my porch and went inside. Instead of going to the tiny kitchen to make dinner, I went to the window, pulled the curtain back and looked out.

There were seven cabins along the river, four across from them, dotted up an incline in the wood. There were two cabins with cars in front. Mine, number seven, was at the far end on the riverside, and Norm and Gladys’s, all the way down on the riverside, number three.

I grabbed my cabin key, walked out the front door, locked up behind me and headed to cabin number three.

***

“I’ll see you at breakfast,” I said to Norm and Gladys as I stood on their tiny front porch, illuminated by their blindingly strong porch light.

“We’ll see you at eight thirty, Nina, dear,” Gladys smiled at me. “Cabin number seven?” she asked.

I looked into the drive area of the cabin complex and saw not much as the porch light was the only thing lighting the large, dark space. Then I looked back at Gladys and Norm.

“Yes, number seven. The silver rental car in front, can’t miss it,” I told her.

“’Night, Nina, thanks for the company,” Norm smiled at me, his eyes searching but gentle.

I hadn’t shared and they hadn’t pried. They’d just given me pork chops, mashed potatoes, gravy and green beans and finished it with homemade apple pie and ice cream, all of which probably tasted good if I could taste anything. They’d also told me about their three kids, seven grandkids and one great-grandkid, all of whom where spread across the continental United States, all of whom they loved dearly and all of whom I could probably recognize on the street after they were done talking about them. And this was even before they showed me pictures.

“’Night Norm, Gladys.”

“’Night dear, sleep tight,” Gladys replied.

I turned on a small wave and headed back and as the night enveloped me quickly in its bizarre, dense darkness, the thoughts I’d kept at bay all day flooded my head. Thoughts about how, this time, I’d been the one who made the good part of a new relationship go bad. How, this time, I’d been the one who had a good thing and didn’t take care of it. How, this time, I thought I was guarding against something bad when someone should have guarded Max against me.

With some effort (and not entirely successfully), I shoved these thoughts aside as I carefully made way through the darkness, found my cabin by what could only be considered a small miracle and then another miracle occurred when I found the lock in which to insert the key.

When I opened the door I was making a mental note to turn on the porch light next time if Norm and Gladys invited me over again when I was suddenly shoved through it. I emitted a small, surprised cry but had no time for any other reaction when I was jerked away from the door, slammed against the wall, my head cracking painfully against it then I had a strong, man’s forearm tight against my throat.

“Ain’t no Maxwell here to have your back, is there?” Damon snarled in my face, I couldn’t see him, not really, but I knew it was him.

I made no retort because I couldn’t. I was choking.

This went on for awhile as I scratched at his arm and kicked out as his legs, the whole time desperately fighting for breath. But he was stronger than me and the only time I connected with his shin, he pushed his arm deeper into my throat and the pain was excruciating.

“Been waitin’ awhile, English, to get mine back,” he whispered then stepped back and released me.

My hands went to my throat as I started to bend double, my lungs on fire. I was drawing in a deep breath but he wasn’t done.

As I bent, his hand came up and he clocked me backhanded on my cheekbone exactly where he’d connected before. This time, still breathless and nowhere near recovered from his choking me, I fell to my hands and knees.

I barely landed when he kicked me in the ribs and my body jerked with the blow as the pain, such pain I’d never experienced, not even at the hands of Brent, knifed through my middle like a wide, hot blade.

Focused on the pain, I didn’t have it in me to evade or even struggle when his hands went under my armpits to pull me up to my feet. As I was favoring my ribs, my arm wrapped protectively around them still trying to catch my breath, I couldn’t even lift a hand to defend myself as his fist connected with my nose and I felt the pain followed by an instant flooding of fluid in my nose. He righted me for a better target and then his fist came back for the second round. The pain blew out in an array from my eye and I went back down to my knees and one hand, the other one still cradling my ribs, blinking away stars and sucking in breath.

Damon leaned over me. “Teach you, English. Yeah?”

Then, as quick as he came on me, the door closed and he was gone.

I pulled in breath, the ache in my ribs stabbing as I did it, but even so, I drew in another then another. Then I crawled to the door, locked it and then, using the handle, I pulled myself up to my feet.

I stumbled to the bathroom and turned on the light, seeing the blood running from my nose, down my mouth, off my chin onto my sweater. I grabbed a towel, pressed it to my nose, peered into the mirror and saw the swelling around my eye and cheekbone had already started.

Tears slid up my ravaged throat but I swallowed them down and tasted blood.

Sweetheart, put ice on your eye, now, sit still, get your head together then go to Max, Charlie said into my head.

I did what he said, though not all of it. I got ice and I lay on the bed holding the pack on my eye and cheek with one hand, the towel to my nose with the other and I knew if I fell asleep without taking the ice to the sink there was no one to take it gently out of my hand. Instead, tomorrow, I’d wake up with a puddle in the bed.

But I fell asleep all the same. This was because, while I was lying there, I cried horrendous, body-wracking sobs that really, really hurt my ribs.

And crying always exhausted me.

***

My body jolted awake when the pounding came at the door and I blinked into the darkness as fear shafted through my system.

He was back.

God, what was I thinking? I should have left. Driven to Denver. Gone anywhere. Why did I stay where he knew I was?

My mind blanked of thought and I jerked agonizingly upright in bed as I heard the door open.

Oh my God.

I was now really in a horror movie with a crazed, mountain man gone bad stalker after me, in a cabin in the woods all alone. Everyone knew you steered clear of cabins in woods! They even had some crazy psycho serial killer who owned cabins in woods and tortured couples in one on an episode of Criminal Minds.

What was I thinking?

I rolled across the bed, ignoring the burning in my ribs and gained my feet with the bed between me and the door when I saw the shadowed form in the doorframe.

“Get out!” I screeched as loud as I could, knowing Norm wouldn’t hear me, he wore hearing aids and asked “pardon” a lot, but hoping Gladys would.

The overhead light went on and Max stood in the doorframe. The instant I saw him, I stopped breathing.

What was he doing there?

His face at first was searching but when his eyes took me in, his expression turned instantly ravaged.

“What… the… fuck?” he whispered, his gravelly voice so low, it slithered across the room at me like a snake.

I realized then that I was holding the sodden, now iceless towel in one hand, the bloody one in the other and I could just imagine what my face looked like. Not to mention my sweater for I’d gone to sleep in my clothes, not even taking off my boots.

I ignored these things, stared at Max then asked the first thing that had come to my mind.

“What are you doing here?”

“What the fuck?” Max repeated.

“Max, what are you doing here?”

One second he was across the room, a bed between us, the next he was standing right in front of me, toe-to-toe. His hands were cupping my jaws and his eyes were moving over my face or, more precisely, my nose, cheek and eye.

Then his gaze locked on mine.

“Duchess, what happened to you?” he asked softly.

“Max –”

“Baby, answer me.”

“I don’t –”

His hands tightened, not painfully but I knew he was done verbalizing his commands. He just simply wanted me to obey.

“Damon,” I whispered and watched Max’s eyes close slowly.

Then he opened them and asked, “What happened?”

I shook my head but answered, “I don’t know. I was here for awhile, sitting by the river then I went to Norm and Gladys’s for dinner –”

Max blinked and asked, “Norm and Gladys?”

“My neighbors.”

“Your neighbors?”

“Yes, cabin number three. We had pork chops and apple pie, um… not together, of course, apple pie was dessert. We had mashed potatoes, gravy and green beans with the pork chops and, um… ice cream with the pie.”

Why was I babbling?

Max pressed his lips together and I wasn’t sure but he looked like maybe he was considering laughing or, alternately, yelling before he stopped pressing them together and suggested, “Let’s get to the Damon part.”

“Okay.” I nodded, happy to be back on target and not making a prat of myself. “Anyway, I was walking back to my cabin from dinner and I opened my door, Damon was there, he pushed me through and… well…” I threw out a hand for the rest was obvious.

“When did this happen?”

“I’m not sure but I’m guessing awhile ago.”

“You haven’t been to the doctor.”

This was a statement, not a question but I shrugged my answer before I stupidly said, “No need, if my ribs are broken then they can’t do much of –”

I stopped talking when Max’s eyes narrowed.

“Your ribs?”

I saw my mistake instantly but I had the distinct feeling Max wasn’t going to let it go and I had this feeling because his eyes were narrowed but also since he pretty much never let anything go.

Therefore, cautiously I explained, “He kind of…” I paused. “Um… when I was on the floor he kind of…” I hesitated then whispered, “Kicked me.”

Max just stood there, stock-still, his hands still at my jaws, his eyes looking in mine but his were dark, unfocused and they were angry, angrier than I’d ever seen them and that morning I thought he couldn’t get angrier but there it was.

Which brought my mind to that morning.

“Max,” I ventured when he seemed to be unable to move, “what are you doing here?”

He blinked again, his eyes focused on me and he answered, “Bringin’ you home.”

This time I blinked then I started, “But –”

“Now, I’m takin’ you to the hospital.”

“Max –”

I didn’t finish because Max was pulling the towels out of my hands, tossing them on the dresser behind me and speaking. “I’ll call Mick on the way, get him to round up Damon.”

“I think –”

I didn’t finish that time because Max’s hand wrapped around mine and he was dragging me across the room as he said, “After the hospital, we’ll go home.”

“I can’t go home,” I told his back as he kept walking us across the room and he stopped and turned to me.

“What?”

“I’m making breakfast for Norm and Gladys. They’re going to be here at eight thirty. Norm’s worried about me, I think so is Gladys. If I disappear in the night, I mean, they’re not young, as in, they’ve got a great grandchild not young. It’ll give them a fright.”

Max looked at me silently for several moments, his eyes gentle and warm but even so they were very active. Then he turned fully to me, moved into me, his hand dropping mine but coming up to wrap around the back of my neck. Then I watched, in fascinated shock, as his head dipped. Then I felt the sweet, swift touch of his lips against mine.

He pulled away barely an inch before he said quietly, “Duchess, you’re the only person I know who could be in a goddamned cabin in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere all of eight hours and be on a first name basis, sharin’ meals and makin’ breakfast dates with your neighbors.”

I was not hearing his words, I still felt his lips against mine and it was occurring to me, belatedly, that he was acting like what happened between us that morning hadn’t happened at all.

“Are you still mad at me?” I blurted on a whisper and I felt my eyes go wide in fear that the question came out rather than me just asking it in my head where it should have stayed even if that meant it would go unanswered.

I pulled away but his hand only tightened on my neck.

“We’ll talk about that later.”

That meant yes. And he’d already been mad enough at me that morning to last a lifetime, rightfully so, but I couldn’t go through it again. Not then, not ever.

I shook my head and pulled at my neck but his hand only got tighter.

“I…” I swallowed then went on, “Max, you don’t have to take care of me anymore.”

“Shut it, Duchess.”

“No, Max, you don’t –”

His head dipped again and his mouth on mine stopped mine from forming words.

Not taking his lips from mine, when the kiss was over, he repeated, “Honey, like I said, we’ll talk about it later. Yeah?”

“Okay,” I whispered, because, really, what else could I do?

He lifted his mouth but only to kiss my forehead then say there, “Let’s go.”

It was good he took my hand because from the minute his lips touched my forehead I closed my eyes therefore, blind and still feeling his sweet kiss, thus not processing anything else, I needed him to guide me out the door.

***

When Max brought me back to the cabin after our visit to the small, local hospital, he had no trouble finding the lock to open the door for he’d cleverly flipped on the porch light before we left.

Once he used his hand in mine to guide me through the front door, he hit the light switch and a lamp came on by the couch in the small living room. He closed and locked the door, still keeping hold of my hand then his mobile rang.

He pulled it out of his back pocket and looked at the display.

Then he squeezed my hand and murmured, “You get ready for bed, darlin’, I’ll be there in a minute.”

I stared at him. What did he mean, he’d be there in a minute?

He let my hand go, flipped open his phone and put it to his ear before I could ask my question (which I probably wasn’t going to do anyway) and said, “Yeah?”

Beyond exhausted from fear, adrenalin, heartbreak and a bout of crying unlike any I’d ever experienced in my history of bouts of crying, and I’d had a long history of bouts of crying, I realized I didn’t have it in me to argue or even discuss what was going on. In fact, I barely had energy even to stand there. So I wandered to the bedroom, flicking on the overhead lights, heading to my bag, zipping it open and I dug out my pajamas.

I’d kind of thought he was just bringing me back in order that I could make breakfast for Norm and Gladys and then he would be leaving. After what happened that morning, even if he had told me he’d shown up in the middle of the night to take me “home”, I didn’t exactly understand what that meant. Though my guess was that he was on an errand for my mother who had his number and, Max being Max, regardless of what happened between him and me, he would run that errand for my mother because he liked her and that’s just the kind of thing he did.

He’d kissed me, of course, three times in two places, and I really had no understanding of that

Further, on the way to the hospital, as he said he’d do, he’d called the Gnaw Bone Police Station and told them what Damon did, saying I’d be in the next day to press charges. After he did that, he took my hand but didn’t pull it to his thigh. Instead, he rested his hand on my thigh and released mine to shift then came right back to it, every time. Other than that he didn’t say much, he was acting gentle to the point of being tender but he was also obviously lost in thought.

And, I figured, after that morning, not to mention him finding me having been beaten up by Damon, they couldn’t be pleasant thoughts.

The good thing about visiting a small, local hospital in the dead of night was that there was no waiting. We found out very quickly that my ribs weren’t broken just bruised, same with my nose. Even though the swelling was contained by the ice, the bruising was already coming up, including at my side where there was an angry, curved mark the shape of the toe of a boot. To my horror, and at Max’s demand, they took photos of my midriff and my face and, when we left, they promised Max and me they would send the photos and medical reports to the Gnaw Bone police department.

Max had been silent on the way back to the cabin as had I, but he still held my hand.

I listened to the murmur of his conversation in the other room as I stripped off my clothes and put on my pajamas. Then I looked around the room, taking it in for the first time.

The owners lived in a house about a quarter mile up the lane that led to the cabin complex. It was definitely a family run business, they didn’t even have an office, just a locked key cabinet behind the front door and a guest register book on a spindly-legged table under the cabinet.

Now I saw that they took pride in their cabins. The room was clean, the wood planked floor looked recently redone and the warm, sage green walls also had been recently repainted. And there were touches here and there that showed they made more than a small effort. Thick, blue, mushroom and green braided rugs; prints on the walls that were chosen with personal taste, rather than just a generic attempt at décor; the bed had a duvet, not a comforter and the duvet was soft and downy, its cover a tasteful design of the green of the walls and the blue and mushroom of the rugs as well as some browns and grays; there were four fluffy pillows on the queen-sized bed, not two thin, unappealing ones, there were even a gaggle of toss pillows that kept up the color scheme; and there were attractive reading lamps on either nightstand with muted shades but, at the top, there was an apparatus for the lamp to swing inward so it could throw light where you needed it.

I was surprised, considering all of this and the fact that each cabin had a goodly amount of space around it with trees and shrubs providing more privacy, more quiet, that the cabins weren’t booked solid. Then again, this all looked pretty fresh so maybe the owners were new or they’d just done renovations and hadn’t had time to get the word out.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Max said into his phone as he walked into the bedroom and I realized that I’d been standing there in my pajamas staring stupidly at the room, examining the interior decoration.

I pulled myself together and walked to the bed, turning on the lamp at his side as I heard him flip the phone closed. He turned out the overhead light as I used the last of my energy to scurry around the bed, throw the covers back and I got in, listening to his phone hit the nightstand.

I settled on my good side, facing the room and I saw he’d moved. He was now standing by my suitcase which was resting on a chair across the room. He’d thrown his leather jacket over the top and he was unbuttoning his flannel. I watched silently as he shrugged it off, dropped it on his jacket and both his hands came up to the back of his neck where he pulled the long sleeved t-shirt over his head. Then he turned back to the bed and his eyes hit me as he walked to it.

My breath caught, not just per usual at the sight of his chest, but because it struck me suddenly he was there, I was there and all day I’d been attempting to come to terms with the dreadful reality that I was never going to see him again.

I rolled to my back and closed my eyes, feeling it as he sat on the bed. I heard both his boots drop then I felt it as he got up again then I heard the buckle on his jeans crack against the floor along with the swish of the fabric.

Then the covers moved and the bed rocked as he got in. The covers moved again, sliding down to my waist, my eyes opened and my head turned to him as his big splayed hand glided gently up to my ribcage.

It rested where Damon’s boot print was and Max rested on his side, close to me but not touching me except with his hand. His elbow was in the bed, his head was in his hand, his eyes were on me.

Then his hand slid down to come to rest on my belly and I realized I was holding my breath so I let it out and when I did, Max spoke.

“All right, baby, let’s start this with you tellin’ me what Harry said to you last night.”

I held my breath again.

I wanted to ask him to turn out the light. I also wanted to ask him if I could go to sleep and we could talk about this in the morning (or never). Mostly, I wanted to ask him, before I’d so stupidly messed up and acted unforgivably selfishly, if he’d really been falling in love with me.

What I didn’t want to do was tell him what Harry said to me, not only because of what Harry said, but because it was mostly about Anna.

But I knew I couldn’t hide behind my neurotic behavior, not then. Max deserved better.

So I let out my breath and said softly, “He told me about Anna.”

Max showed no reaction to this, his face didn’t darken, his eyes didn’t narrow, he just asked, “What’d he say?”

I pulled in air through my nose then let it out and answered, “He said you loved her.”

“I did,” Max agreed readily.

I bit my bottom lip but let it go before I continued. “He said she was your world.”

“She was,” Max agreed again and I struggled against the urge to close my eyes against a different kind of internal pain and won, miraculously holding his gaze.

“He said, after her, you had a lot of women.”

“That’s true.”

I swallowed as this was confirmed and finished on a whisper, “He told me that you loved her so much, when she died, you were undone. And he told me no one was ever going to be that to you, not ever again, and you and everyone would know it and he thought I should know it too.”

Max had a reaction to this, his mouth got tight, his eyes got dark and his hand pressed slightly into my belly.

Then he sighed and his hand lightened.

Then he asked, “You know something?”

I pulled in both my lips and shook my head, though I did know a lot of somethings, just not the something he was about to share. However, I wasn’t certain I wanted to know what he was about to share. I didn’t tell him this and, therefore, he shared.

“When Anna died, it was her world that ended, not mine.” I closed my eyes then but Max whispered, “Honey, look at me.” So I opened them again.

“You don’t have to talk about this,” I told him quietly.

“Yeah, I do.”

I swallowed again and my hand went to rest on his at my belly.

“It took awhile for me to understand that,” he told me. “About ten years. I figured it out just over a week ago during a snowstorm.”

Oh. My. God.

“Max,” I breathed and his hand slid along my belly to my side, he carefully pulled me to his body and leaned in.

“Harry doesn’t know dick,” Max informed me, his voice soft but slightly harsh. “He lost Bitsy and I don’t know why, I don’t care, it’s got nothin’ to do with me. It’s his problem, he didn’t fight to keep her and everyone knows he didn’t. He just gave up and let Curt win. His story is different than mine. He gave up and had to live with his decision, Bitsy in the same town makin’ her life with another man. I lost Anna because Curt was bein’ Curt, it was outta my hands. He and I had our fallin’ out but Anna and Bitsy were tight. They tied one on at The Dog, Curt was designated driver, went to get them, take them home. About three weeks ago was the anniversary of it all, Spring Break, kids in town, doin’ stupid shit, gettin’ drunk like they always do. They fucked with Curt, shoutin’ things out their car windows at him and he had a short fuse. He lost his temper, thought he’d teach ‘em a lesson, decided to fuck with ‘em back, did it and lost control of the car. The kids swerved into a ditch, they were okay, goin’ fast, shaken up but only minor injuries. Curt’s SUV rolled four times and only stopped when it slammed into a tree.”

“Oh my God,” I whispered, turning slightly toward him, my hand automatically moving to rest at his waist.

“Yeah,” Max grunted. “Worse, there was a factory recall on the SUV Curt had. Somethin’ wrong with the back passenger side seatbelt. Curt didn’t bother takin’ it in to get it fixed. Anna’s seatbelt snapped and when the truck rolled, she flew all over the inside of the cab, broke her neck.”

At that, I rolled totally into him and wrapped my arm around his waist, whispering, “Max.”

“Not a mark on her,” Max whispered back but his eyes had drifted away. Even though they were still on me, I knew he couldn’t see me. He was seeing something else, something acutely painful. I knew it because it was etched in his face and witnessing it, I wished I had the power to put my hand there and absorb the pain.

But I didn’t have that power, no one did. So I just gave his waist a squeeze and Max went on.

“When I saw her at the funeral home, no joke, she looked like she was sleepin’.”

I wanted him to stop talking but I didn’t request that, I just pressed closer and tightened my arm around him.

Max was still back there, I could tell by the look on his face and the words he said next. “Wanted to kill him. Christ, I was blinded by the urge, couldn’t think of anything else. Not only did he kill her, actin’ like an asshole, but he did it because he was a lazy son of a bitch, not takin’ his car in to be fixed and he was careless, didn’t even warn her to sit behind him.” Max’s eyes focused on me but they were still far away when he said, “You know, I woulda taken her like Bitsy, in a chair, been happy with that for the rest of my life.”

I knew that. I definitely knew.

My hand moved from his waist to wrap my fingers around his neck and I whispered, “I know.”

“He had Bitsy, alive and breathin’, broken but still around to laugh, to talk, to share his bed. Fuck, he never got how fuckin’ lucky he was, comin’ outta that crash. Not that he didn’t get hurt, but that he didn’t lose Bitsy.”

I stroked his jaw and stayed silent.

“It was Curt’s negligence that he didn’t take it in when the factory informed him of the recall. George told me I had a case but I let it go. Money wouldn’t help but money meant everything to Curt so he didn’t get that. He sent Trev to offer me a settlement, didn’t want me suin’ him, the asshole.” Max shook his head. “Christ, he was such a dick.”

Yes, he definitely was.

Max carried on, “Anna had life insurance, got the payoff, never touched it. Not when I was buildin’ the house, never. Touchin’ it, usin’ it, felt like givin’ in.”

“Giving in?” I asked, confused.

Max focused on me again. “To her bein’ dead, makin’ it more final.”

“Death is pretty final, darling,” I said softly but carefully.

His face changed, a wave of that pain sliding through it, his head dropped so his forehead was resting against mine and he muttered, “Yeah.”

Still cautious, I guessed, “He mentioned her in his letter.”

Max lifted his head and nodded and I knew that was why the other Max came out that day, why Bitsy told me to take care of him, because, bottom line, Curt was being a jerk.

“What’d he say?” I asked, my thumb still stroking his jaw.

“Told me he was sorry. Told me he loved Anna and it ate at him, what he did to her. I’m sure that made him feel better, writin’ that out, makin’ him feel like a better man, admittin’ to that. What he didn’t get was what that shit would make me feel, how no apology could change the decisions he made leadin’ up to what happened that night. Nothin’ could change the fact that his wife and my wife were in his car when he acted like Curt, not thinkin’ that two precious souls were with him and the first thing that should be on his fuckin’ mind was gettin’ them home safe. Not pissin’ in his corner, provin’ to a bunch of kids who’s the bigger man.”

As usual, Max was right.

“The fuck of it is, he was writin’ that letter at the same time he was fuckin’ around on Bitsy with Shauna, God knows why, no excuse for it. And writin’ that letter knowin’ that his life was in danger, as was hers, and he was dickin’ around with a PI and not gettin’ the cops involved. He was writin’ that letter apologizin’ for his stupid, fucked up decisions ten years ago at the same time still fuckin’ makin’ ‘em.”

Again, Max was right.

And something else Max was and it was clear as day, absolutely obvious.

He was not over his dead wife.

This hurt, worse than a kick in the ribs, a punch in the face but I didn’t let that show. Not that Max, in his current state of mind, would notice. He was far away, still reliving a nightmare.

Instead of pulling away physically or emotionally, which was what I wanted to do, my hand left his neck to become my arm wrapped around his waist and I rolled deeper into him, pushing him to his back and getting close, resting my cheek on his shoulder, wrapping him tight with my arm.

Max’s hand slid under my body and curled around my waist.

“I saw her picture at Bitsy’s,” I told him, feeling his body get tight against mine and I hurried on. “She was beautiful, Max. You looked happy.”

His arm gave me a squeeze and his body relaxed.

“She was,” he agreed. “We were.”

“You should know, Harry told me everything,” I whispered warily. “About your scholarship, the pregnancies –”

His gravelly voice was back to harsh when he cut me off to remark sarcastically, “Remind me to thank him.” I bit my lip and he continued, “And remind me, next time I’m enjoyin’ your company and you get the stellar idea to leave me and go distract some bitter, drunk asshole from his fucked up issues that are his own issues, ones he created his damned self, and he doesn’t man up to that but takes pot shots at you, remind me, babe, not to let you go.”

This sounded a good deal like Max thought Harry’s tirade was my fault and to ascertain if this was true, I lifted my head and looked at his face. His unhappy, clear, gray eyes locked on mine and I saw that it was, indeed, true.

“He was just blowing off steam,” I told him.

“Yeah, he was, blowin’ off steam at your expense, my expense, Anna’s expense and she’s fuckin’ dead. Blowin’ off steam which meant you were night-time Zombie Nina, actin’ like your world had crumbled and you wouldn’t let me in to help. Blowin’ off steam which reinforced whatever fucked up idea you had about Anna and me in your head which meant you didn’t fuckin’ talk to me about it and we ended up havin’ a spat, you gettin’ another fuckin’ wild hair and takin’ off and then gettin’ worked over by Damon. Yeah, babe, Harry was just blowin’ off steam.”

I heard everything he said but there was only one part of it that hit me like a bullet.

He called that morning a spat.

I got up on an elbow in the bed and looked down at him, whispering, “Spat?”

His arm came up, crossing his chest and his fingers curled around the back of my neck to contain me should I wish to retreat any further and he said, “Duchess, wake up. This is us, we’re gonna fight. You gotta learn how to shake it off.”

I blinked.

“Shake it off?” I whispered and this time my whisper was both incredulous and lethal.

“Yeah, shake it off,” he confirmed, ignoring my toxic tone completely. “Either that or learn how to talk to me, how to ask a fuckin’ question once in awhile without lookin’ scared as a jackrabbit about whatever answer you might get.”

I blinked. Max kept talking.

“I ain’t a figment of your imagination, Duchess, I didn’t start my existence the night you drove up to my house. I had a life, a wife. I got a family, friends, a history. I fucked around a lot, lookin’ for somethin’ and not findin’ it, just like you.”

I tried to contain my anger and reminded him, “Yes, Max, you had a wife who was your world.”

“Yeah, she was, until her world stopped. Mine kept goin’, babe.”

“Harry said when a man has a woman who is his world, and he loses her, nothing will take the place of that.”

I watched Max’s irritation grow to anger; he twisted toward me and got up on an elbow too, all without releasing my neck.

“Don’t lie in bed next to me and throw in my face the shit Harry fed you last night,” he warned.

“But you admitted it,” I told him.

“I fuckin’ did not.”

“You told me she was your world.”

His hand tightened on my neck. “Yeah, she was, Duchess. Was.”

“Harry’s a man and men know men.”

“Harry’s no man, Nina. Haven’t you figured that out?”

Okay, he had a point there.

“All right,” I agreed and foolishly went on. “That might be true but not five minutes ago you relived that nightmare, Max, I watched you do it and you cannot lie there and tell me you’re over Anna. You loved her and her loss broke you.”

His eyes turned to stone indicating his anger deepening, quite significantly, and he clipped, “Jesus, you’re a piece of work.”

“What?”

He rolled into me so I fell to my back and he was partially on me, though not on my tender side but I wouldn’t have noticed even if he pressed his full weight into me because he’d gone way passed angry right back to what he was this morning. He was furious and I braced for impact.

“You’re a piece of work, babe.” His voice was biting as he repeated himself, his face dipping close to mine. “Is this what you wanna hear?” he asked and didn’t wait for my answer just kept on going. “She was beautiful, she was funny, sweet, mellow, laid back. So fuckin’ mellow, Christ. Life was good for Anna. She loved livin’ it and didn’t let much get under her skin. We probably had two arguments the whole time we were together. Life with Anna was contentment, absolute. She didn’t get in my face, she didn’t get in moods, she didn’t throw attitude. She woke up happy and went to bed happy and she did everything she could to give me that same harmony and I loved every fuckin’ minute of it.”

My mouth went dry at his words and I tried to slide out from under him but he didn’t let me move an inch as he carried on.

“Not you, no. You get in my face, your mood changes like lightnin’, you throw attitude better’n any woman I ever met and I grew up with Mom and Kami, so, seriously, babe, that’s sayin’ somethin’.”

“Get off me,” I whispered, his words worse than Damon’s blows, far, far worse. I was pushing against his chest but it was like I didn’t even speak and my hands on him didn’t exist.

“You’re blonde and Anna was blonde, that’s about all you two share. You’re night, Duchess, she was day.”

I felt the tears hit my eyes and I couldn’t stop them from sliding out the sides.

“Get off.”

“She wasn’t a fighter though. She wasn’t ready to take on the world. She let anyone walk all over her and they did and she didn’t react, not even a little. She just let it happen and moved on, buryin’ it deep, not lettin’ anyone see, hidin’ it even from me, not lettin’ me help. She was sweet which meant she let people in to walk all over her, never learned, did it all the fuckin’ time. And she was a good listener but she was shy. She’d stand at my side and bite her lip and look at Harry and think someone should help him but it wouldn’t be her. She wouldn’t have the courage to walk through a crowded bar and sit by his side and take his issues on her shoulders. What he said to you would have wrecked her even worse than it did to you. So I had to protect her from that shit and I did. She gave me harmony. I kept her safe so she could give it. That was us and it was a good balance.”

I didn’t know how much more I could take and my voice had gone from demanding to pleading when I repeated, “Max, get off.”

“You wanted the comparison, babe, you got it. Now you know what Anna gave me and what I gave her.”

“I didn’t want the comparison!” I cried.

“Yeah you did, you’re all fired certain you can’t compete, convinced yourself of it.”

“Well obviously I can’t because, obviously, harmony is not what you’ll get from me.”

“There’s no replacing Anna.”

I looked away, closed my eyes and quit pressing against his chest. I was going to block him out, that was the only defense he was giving me so I was going to take it.

His words still came at me though, unfortunately. I couldn’t block them just by closing my eyes.

“You lose anyone, there’s no replacing them. There’ll never be another Charlie, you know that. And there’ll never be another Anna. What you need to get is that’s precious, you get to keep that, you don’t want to replace it. That doesn’t mean you can’t find something else just as good.”

Right, I thought but didn’t say it out loud but with his Wonder Max powers he must have read that word on my face.

“Christ,” he gritted out. “I don’t want harmony from you, Nina. I just want you.”

“Can you get off me, please?” I asked quietly.

“Look at me.”

“Please, Max.”

“Dammit, Nina, look at me.”

I looked at him and his eyes roamed my face then his hand came up and cupped it.

“I see what I had with Anna for the gift it was but now that’s gone. With this act, are you sayin’, in this life that’s all I get?”

“No,” I whispered honestly and the words I said next were coming from somewhere I didn’t know I had, saying things I didn’t know I needed to say but things instinctively I knew he needed to hear and understand in a belated effort on my part to protect him for his own good. “What I’m saying is, you’re you and you deserve better.”

He looked genuinely confused when he asked, “Better than what?”

“Better than me.”

I felt his big body jolt and it jarred me, sending a shot of pain through my ribs but I ignored that, focusing on his face which looked utterly stunned.

“You shittin’ me?” he asked softly.

Yes, stunned.

“No,” I replied just as softly.

His thumb swept my cheekbone and his face gentled as he murmured, “Jesus, baby.”

“Think about it, Max,” I implored urgently. “I’m argumentative and my head is messed up. Do you know, Charlie talks to me?” I asked then didn’t wait for an answer even as I took in his head jerking at the question. “He does. It started just recently but he does, like he lives in there. I’m not remembering him, things he’s said, he’s actually talking to me. And lately I’ve been talking back. It’s insane.”

“Duchess –” Max started but I kept right on speaking.

“And I do stupid stuff all the time or at least I did before Niles and then there was Niles, who was stupid from start to finish. But before him, it wasn’t just all the bad choices with men, I was always doing crazy stuff, like Mom but not benign stuff, like concocting disgusting food. The Brain Team thing wasn’t the first or the last time I was off on one. I was always off on one. Do you know I’ve been arrested?” His eyebrows went up and I nodded my head on the pillow. “Not brawling, it was drunk and disorderly except I wasn’t really drunk, more like tipsy but I was disorderly because I was yelling really loudly and, in the end, I kind of threw a beer bottle at someone.” Max pressed his lips together, I again didn’t know what this meant but I defended myself. “He deserved it, he smacked a girl’s behind right in front of my friend, who was his girlfriend, and he was doing that kind of that stuff all the time and it hurt her so, being tipsy, I’d had enough and I let fly, shouting at him and throwing the beer bottle. Anyway, I wasn’t aiming at him so it didn’t hit him, just smashed on a wall and got some girl’s purse wet. She was kind of angry about it because the purse was designer so she was the one who called the police.”

“Babe –”

On a roll, I talked over him and continued laying out my case. “And I’m totally neurotic. I know why, seeing as my Dad left me and then I chose all of those stupid guys so I have issues with that, as you know. I just don’t know how to stop it. You told me all the guys at the bar were looking at me and even Harry said he’d do me but does that register with me? No. I can’t let people be nice to me, say nice things to me, I just can’t accept it as fact and that makes me just plain weird.”

This time, his brows knit and his face grew hard when he repeated in a low, dangerous voice, “Harry said he’d do you?”

“Yes,” I told him, too caught up in relaying my urgent message to catch his change in mood. “Harry was drunk and acting like an idiot but I don’t know why you want me. It’s mad.”

“Nina –”

“I mean, I go on a vacation to try to figure out my life and here I am, my leg’s scraped up, my ribs are bruised, I’ve been backhanded and punched, I’ve been to a hospital once and a Police Station three times and I’ve been into it with practically everyone in town and, if you take out the time I’ve been sick, I’ve only been here a week!”

“Duchess, let me –”

“What is it with me?” I asked over him then again didn’t wait for an answer, just kept blathering. “I need a timeout to deal with my timeout! That’s how messed up I am. And you’re a good guy, the best, you take care of people, everyone respects you, you’re nice and you’re handsome and you’re generous and smart and you don’t need all that is messed up me messing up you.”

“Babe, will you shut up?”

At his tone, which managed to be both commanding and gentle, my head jerked on the pillow and belatedly I focused on him.

“What?” I asked.

“Shut up,” he said softly.

“Okay,” I replied instantly because his face was also gentle, gentle to the point of being tender, though his eyes were dancing like he was laughing inside. The combination of the two was so amazing, it was beyond amazing, indescribably amazing and I could do nothing but what he told me to do.

“You threw a beer at someone?” he asked, still speaking softly.

“Not at him, it was a warning shot. But he smacked a girl’s bottom in front of his girlfriend,” I repeated on a near whisper. “But I neglected to add that the girl’s bottom he smacked wasn’t happy either, seeing as she was my friend’s friend too.”

“Babe,” he whispered, his eyes still dancing and his mouth was now twitching.

I went back to my point. “Obviously from my behavior the last week and a half, you’ll have noted there’s a good possibility I might do something like that in the future.”

His mouth stopped twitching mainly because it had started grinning.

“Yeah, Duchess, that’s been noted.”

I swallowed and tilted my head on the pillow as I summed up quietly, my words heavy and utterly true, “I’m not harmony, Max.”

His grin didn’t die even hearing my leaden words. “No, honey, that you aren’t.”

“You deserve that,” I whispered.

His hand shifted so his fingers could trail at the wetness my earlier tears left at my temple as he said, “That’s sweet you think that, baby, but that doesn’t change the fact that that’s not what I want.”

I blinked slowly then I asked, “Sorry?”

“To get that means not to get you so that’s not what I want ‘cause, like I said earlier, what I want is you.”

“My dead brother talks in my head,” I reminded him.

“And I used to see Anna walkin’ down the sidewalk when I drove through town. That shit happens in one way or another to everyone who loses someone. It’ll pass.”

Well, even though it made me sad he used to see Anna still, that was a relief. I thought I was going crazy.

Nevertheless, I persevered, “I’m messed up.”

“You’re cute.”

“Trust me, Max, you may think it’s cute now but it’ll get not so cute.”

“What’s not so cute is Harry tellin’ you to your face he’d do you, he was drunk or not, but that’s between me and Harry.”

“What?”

He ignored my question and stated, “But the rest is you, babe, and you need to trust me, it’s cute.”

“You deserve better,” I reminded him.

“You repeatin’ that means you haven’t been payin’ attention,” he informed me.

“I’m sorry?”

His hand moved back to cup my face, his thumb moving over my bottom lip and he spoke while he was doing this. “Harry didn’t lie, I fucked around. After Anna there were a lot of women. After all of them, and there were some good ones, babe, but not even one sparked anything in me, nothin’, after all of them, what do you think it says I choose you?”

Oh my God.

My entire system went still from the inside out because I had to admit, he had a very valid point.

“I lucked out, baby,” Max went on. “When I was young life handed me somethin’ beautiful. Then it took it away. Ten years down the road, somethin’ different, but no less beautiful, showed up right at my front door. I knew it almost the minute I saw it and nothin’ has happened since to shake that. You think, findin’ that in you, I’m gonna let you change my password, write me some fucked up note and walk away?”

“But you were right this morning, I should have known what you were going through this week and I shouldn’t have been so selfish.”

“No, babe, I was pissed this morning and, in case you haven’t noticed, when I get pissed, I mouth off and say shit I shouldn’t say. What you gotta learn to do is call me on it, give me the attitude you serve up to everyone else like you did the other night when I was outta line.”

“Max –”

“Or, at least, learn to control your wild hairs and let me burn it out and then call me on it.”

“Max –”

His face got close, so close I could feel his breath on my lips as he said, “It kills me to say this, babe, the guilt burns so bad but, this week, I couldn’t help but think about what life would be like with you and the ways it would be better than what I had with Anna. And knowin’ you throw beer bottles and give back as good as you get, I like it, Duchess, that passion. It’s in everything you do and, swear to Christ, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything that beautiful. Anna loved life but, honey, when you forget to let those little fears you got cobble you, fuck, you devour it. It’s unbelievably amazing, awesome to witness. That passion makes you look at Cotton’s pictures like you’re experiencing bliss. And it makes you fight Kami’s corner when she’s been nothin’ but a bitch to you and fight it like you’ll go down with her and so will the whole of Western civilization. And, Duchess, other people think it’s beautiful too, it draws them to you, makin’ friends outta folks like Arlene and your cabin neighbors Norm and Phyllis –”

“Gladys,” I corrected him.

He grinned, his thumb caught on my lower lip and he muttered, “Whatever.”

Then he stopped talking apparently thinking his final point was made.

I stared at him and I did this for a long time. And I came to the conclusion that Max didn’t need to say any more.

His final point was made.

And I realized, very late, that he didn’t even have to talk to make it. He’d made his point hours earlier by showing up to take me “home”.

Though I decided not to share this with him. What I did decide was we had to talk about one more thing.

So I called, “Max?”

“Right here, honey.”

Yes, he was, right there, with me, in a cabin, by a river, fifty miles away from his house.

I closed my eyes then opened them and admitted, “You scare me.”

“You told me that before.”

“I have?”

“Yeah, baby.”

“When?”

“That first night I fucked you.”

Oh yes, right, I was half asleep, I forgot about that. Of course, Max didn’t since he obviously had the memory of an elephant which, I figured, did not bode well for me.

He was still grinning, likely reading my thoughts on my face (which, I should add, also didn’t bode well for me) and his thumb went back over my lip before I asked, “What if this goes bad?”

“Like I said then, I can’t give you any promises but we’ll do the best we can.”

“Is that enough for you?”

He stared at me then he burst out laughing, collapsing on top of me for a second before his arms went around me and he rolled carefully, taking me with him until he was on his back and I was partly on top of him, partly pressed to his side.

I lifted my head, looked in his eyes and asked, “What’s funny?”

Still smiling big, he remarked in a way that I knew he was blatantly lying, “It cuts deep, Duchess, knowin’ you’re settlin’ for me.” His hand went into my hair and cupped the back of my head as my eyes got wide. He pulled my face closer and muttered, “But you should know, the answer is, yeah, it’s more than enough and, you settle for me, I’ll settle for that.”

Then he pulled my face even closer and he kissed me.

And then, apparently our conversation was over because he kissed me for a good long while, so long I totally forgot about our discussion. When he stopped kissing me, he turned out the light, settled in and told me to go to sleep. And his kisses were so good, his body so warm, he felt so good at my side, I was so exhausted, I just cuddled into him and did what I was told.

But I did it with that feeling of hope drifting back into my heart and this time, it drifted in with the clear intention of staying awhile.