I held the keys in my hand thinking this should be a bigger moment, Max giving me the keys to his house.
I waited a second for him to say something. He didn’t.
“Max –”
He cut me off. “Nina, just… don’t.”
Don’t? Don’t what?
“Max –” I started again.
“Nina, seriously.”
Seriously what?
I didn’t ask. I swallowed, dumped the keys in my bag and looked out the passenger window.
Max drove in silence. He didn’t take my hand, he didn’t turn on the radio, he just drove.
Something was very wrong and logically I knew it had to do with whatever was in those letters. Illogically, my garbage-fuelled brain told me it had to do with me.
Logically, I thought, Curtis Dodd had something to do with Elizabeth Dodd being paralyzed and Anna Maxwell being dead. Now Curtis was dead and he’d not only screwed Max in his will, he’d also left him a letter which necessitated a trip to the Police Station. This would make anyone moody.
Illogically, I knew Max didn’t have a problem sharing pretty much anything except stories about his beloved, dead wife. Therefore, his not sharing with me now, my garbage-fuelled brain told me, had to do with me.
And my garbage-fuelled mind reminded me that I’d foolishly offered to help Macho Mountain Man Max pay for his new land. He’d said he didn’t mind that I made more money than him but my father and my fiancé had both tried to pay him to leave me alone then, not two hours later, I was offering him money. Men were proud, especially, I figured, macho mountain men.
I was such an idiot.
We hit town and about two blocks in, Max turned right. He drove into a residential area and parked in the drive of a house that looked like it was built in the seventies and the Brady Bunch lived there. Max got out and I did too. He didn’t wait for me to get to his side before he headed to the front door.
My stomach clutched painfully.
The door opened and Barb stood there.
“Max,” she greeted then her eyes came to me still making my way up the path and she said, “Nina.”
“Barb, how’s she doin’?” Max asked as Barb moved out of the door and Max moved in.
Barb held the storm door open for me as I made my final approach and she answered, “Hangin’ in there.” She closed the door behind me and turned to us, her gaze on me. “It’s good you’re here. She’s talkin’ a bit and the bit she says is mostly about you.”
I nodded, unsure if this was good or bad, decided to go with good and whispered, “Where is she?”
“Upstairs,” Barb answered, closing the front door on the storm door.
“I… planned something. I hope you don’t mind,” I told her, avoiding Max’s eyes.
Barb studied me then her eyes filled with tears she didn’t let fall and she whispered back, “Glad someone has a plan. I have no stinkin’ clue what to do.”
I reached out and grasped her forearm, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“How about I make some coffee while you bring her downstairs?” I suggested, Barb nodded and I went on, “Can Bitsy Dodd get into your house?”
I felt something come from Max and watched Barb’s body jolt.
“Bitsy?” Barb asked.
I nodded again. “Yes.”
“Sure, Brody’s here, he or Max can get her in the house,” she said. “They’ve done it before lotsa times.”
“That’s good,” I told her and turned to Max who was studying me, his eyes intense but his expression was blank. “Can you take care of Bitsy?”
“Yeah,” he replied and his eyes went to the door before going to Barb. “Someone’s here.”
Barb turned back to the door and I took off my coat. Moving into the house, I dropped it on the couch and I went in what I hoped was the direction of the kitchen. Luckily, my hopes came to fruition.
Max followed several moments later.
“It’s your Mom and Steve,” he told me as I searched the cupboards for coffee.
“Good.”
“Nina, you know what you’re doin’?”
I found the coffee, took down the canister and yanked out the pot from the coffeemaker.
“Not really,” I replied.
Max got close as I filled the pot. “Don’t know ‘bout this shit but I’m guessin’ now’s a sensitive time.”
I pressed my lips together and turned off the faucet.
Yesterday, according to Max, I had this. Yesterday, he trusted everything I did with Mindy. Yesterday, he let me take care of everything.
Today, or, I should say now, after whatever happened, he wasn’t so sure.
“I figure what I have planned might not help but it won’t hurt,” I told the coffeemaker as I poured the water in.
“Nina, look at –” Max started, not calling me “babe”, “honey”, “darlin’”, “baby” or “Duchess” but “Nina”.
He didn’t finish because my Mom was there.
“Max, sweetie, there’s a lady in a wheelchair outside who needs your assistance.”
I was measuring coffee into the filter but I felt Max’s hesitation like it was physical then I felt him leaving the same way.
Mom got close. “Did you learn what’s going on?”
I had told her my plan for Mindy over the phone and I’d also filled her in a bit about the reading. I hadn’t explained that Max couldn’t afford to keep the land he was given just that he was given it. I had told her about the letters but, as I didn’t know what was in them, I couldn’t give her that knowledge.
“No,” I answered.
“He’s not himself,” Mom observed with what had to be her keen mother’s sense since she’d been in his presence approximately twenty seconds and she’d known him less than two days.
Still, she could say that again.
“Hey,” we both heard as I flipped the switch to the coffee and we both turned to see Mindy in the doorway.
She looked a little pale, she definitely looked listless but other than that, she looked like Mindy.
“Hi there, my lovely,” I said to her, moved across the room, took her in my arms, gave her tight hug and, I was pleased to note, she hugged me back.
I pulled away slightly, gave her a smile and told her, “It’s already afternoon and I’ve not witnessed any brawls. Slow day.”
Her head tilted to the side and her lips twitched before she said, “Well, I gotta be with you. I don’t see any brawls either unless you’re there.”