I opened the side pocket of my suitcase and took out Max’s baby spoon.
“This,” I said, “is what his mother gave me for Christmas. And you know why? Because she said she knows that I’m the one for Max and she wanted me to have this so when we’re married and have a child, something from his childhood will carry on.”
My mother was much more into the spoon than my dad was. Maybe just due to men not being into things like that as much as women are. I don’t know. And, frankly, I didn’t really care. I was making my point, standing firm, letting them know I had things under control.
I said, “The last couple of days, you guys have asked me twice about my work and you seem fine with that. Actually, Dad, you even seemed impressed. I can handle my personal life just like I handle my professional one. I’m not the vulnerable Olivia you guys think I am…or maybe even want me to be.”
“We don’t want you to be anything other than what you want to be,” my mother said.
I looked at her, my eyes widening. “Then trust me. Support me. This is all going to be fine.”
. . . . .
“Damn, I missed you, Dreamgirl,” Max said as he took me in his arms.
“I can see that,” I said. “But maybe you better calm that thing down until we get home.”
We were standing on the tarmac at Bob Hope Airport in Burbank. Max had pulled his car up to the plane. He held me tight and I could feel his erection pressing against me.
“We could get back on the plane,” he said. “Runway sex?” He took my earlobe between his lips and I moaned softly.
“If you’re this excited now, maybe this would be even better when we get home in an hour.”
“An hour. That’s how long it normally takes by car.” He turned and opened the door for me. “Better buckle up tight. This is going to be the fastest ride of your life.”
During the drive home, Max asked me how the trip was.
“About as expected. And it made me pissed most of the time. The goodbye at the airport was kind of sad, though.”
I had fought back tears as my mother hugged me. My dad had simply put his hand on my shoulder as my mom and I embraced. I had felt that tingling sensation in the back of my throat that I always get just before I cry, but I had managed to suppress it. Mom smiled through her tears. Dad gave me his best effort at conveying the fact that he cared — lips pressed together in a firm line, head cocked to the side a little, as if to say, “I’m sorry,” but of course he would never actually say the words.
Max put his right hand on my thigh, as his left hand kept the wheel steady. He gave my leg a light but reassuring squeeze. “Sorry.”
“I’m just glad to be home.” Then I paused. “Home. It feels good to say that.”
. . . . .
Later, as we lay naked on the bed, Max said, “Falling asleep?”
My eyes were closed and I nodded. “Mmm hmm.”
“It’s only five o’clock.”
“I’m worn out from the trip and from what we just did, so if I fall asleep, you’re partly to blame.”
I opened my eyes as I felt his body shift. He propped himself up with one arm and said, “We haven’t exchanged presents yet.”
I closed my eyes again. “I think what you just gave me is the best thing you could have given me.”
“Good, then I hope you got me something just as great.”
I punched him on the arm. “Fuck you. But seriously, let me get it…” I went to the walk-in closet and retrieved the bag with his gift in it, went back into the bedroom and handed it to him. “It’s not wrapped.”
“Good, then it won’t take me long to get to it.”
He opened the bag and pulled out the gift.
Max looked at it a little strangely. “A big purse.”
“You’re just full of jokes tonight, aren’t you?”
He smiled. “I like this.”
“I thought you might,” I said. “You’re always carrying an armful of crap. How come you don’t have one of these?”
He turned it in his hands, examining the leather messenger bag. He shrugged. “No reason. Just haven’t. But I like this a lot.”
“It’s Ferragamo.”
“Ferra-who?”
“Ferragamo,” I said, falling onto the bed beside him. “Italian. Never mind.”
He chuckled. “I’m kidding, and I love this. Come on, Liv.” Max took my hand and pulled me up. “Jesus, you’re like a rag doll.”
“Thanks, that’s so sweet.”
Wordlessly, he picked me up.
I groaned. “Max…”
“You won’t regret this, trust me.”
He threw me over his shoulder and I squealed with laughter. My head was near his back and my butt was in the air. With his free hand, he smacked it.
“I kind of like this view,” he said, planting a quick kiss on my ass.
Facing the wrong way, I couldn’t tell where we were going. At least until we got to a door and then I looked down at the ground and saw the cement floor and smelled oil, gas and rubber.
“This isn’t going to be much of a surprise, considering where we are right now,” he said, setting me down on the garage floor.
I shrugged, trying to play it off, knowing what he was probably about to give me for Christmas, the only question being: what kind?
Max turned me around and I saw an Aston Martin Rapide S in concours blue.
I stood there, unable to make a noise. My hands flew up to my face. I was excited and embarrassed at the same time — and neither emotion had anything to do with the fact that I was naked.
“I can’t believe this,” I said. “And the color is perfect.” I started to walk toward it.
Max walked and stood right behind me. “I remembered.”
It was the car I had seen on the road one day a couple of months ago and made an off-hand comment about how I loved the pearl blue color. Max obviously made a note of it.
“It’s not just for Christmas,” he said. “Consider this a bonus of sorts. You’re invaluable to me personally, Liv, and I also don’t know what I would do without you working for me. The way you handled the Randall situation was just amazing. You saved the movie. You saved the company.”
The same day that Tames had called to say Randall was opting for the Showtime mini-series, I called Max and we went back and forth for a few hours, coming up with any ideas we could. I ended up calling Lyle, Max’s agent, who immediately suggested that Max direct it himself. It took a little coaxing, but Max finally came around. Writing and producing was all he wanted to do, he told me over and over, but I convinced him that the script was brilliant and Randall pulling out was a chance to breathe new life into it. Do it himself. Do it right.