Authors: Shannon Stacey
“Thank you.”
“I bet it looked exactly like this when my dad played with it. It looks like a boy’s tractor, but not one that was forgotten in a barn for decades.”
“That’s my specialty.”
Josh pulled out his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”
“Fifty dollars.”
“That’s not enough, Max. I don’t know what you make doing this, since it’s not really my business, but all I have to do is look around and I know it’s more than fifty dollars. You’re an artist.”
“I’m charging you fifty dollars because this is a gift from you to your brother and that requires some investment on your part. But doing that tractor was special to me. You guys are my friends and being able to do this is also my gift to you.”
Josh pulled the money from his wallet and set it on the workbench, then tucked the wallet back in his pocket so he could shake Max’s hand. “I appreciate it.”
“I have a box for it here.” Max took the tractor, wrapped it in thin bubble wrap and set it into the foam insert he’d cut to fit it earlier. Then he put the lid on the box and handed it back to Josh.
He hadn’t been lying. Working on the Farmall
had
been a special experience for him. There was an underlying sense of history and nostalgia in model railroading—the capturing of a bygone day in HO scale—and quite often people modeled tableaus that meant something to them. The flag stop where the farmer’s son had brought the milk to the train. A section of the B&O where a boy had chased trains with his grandfather.
But the Farmall was different. He knew Josh and Mitch, and they’d lost their dad. He still had his and he couldn’t imagine losing him. So when he’d seen those initials crudely carved into the tractor’s belly, it had become a mission to preserve them. Seeing the look on Josh’s face had been worth it.
Once they were back upstairs, Josh didn’t immediately head toward the door. “Do you want to talk, Max?”
“About what?” He closed the basement door and reset the alarm.
“Anything?”
“The last time you suggested we talk, you were trying to win a bet with Katie. I don’t really have any more secrets.”
“People are worried about you.”
“Ah.” Max interlaced his fingers, rubbing his left palm with his right thumb. “I guess everybody knows that Tori and I had a falling-out.”
“It’s not something that’s being gossiped about over tea. But the people who care about you—about both of you—know. You haven’t been into town or the diner. You’re going back to being the mysterious recluse and we don’t want to see that happen.”
“I think it would be very hard for me to see Tori right now.”
“You want to have a beer?”
Max frowned. “At three-thirty on a Thursday afternoon?”
“Why the hell not?”
“Okay. Why the hell not?”
They went into the kitchen and Max grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge. Josh set his box on the island and popped the tab on the can Max handed him.
“Are you going to let her go?” Josh asked him.
“Since everybody’s finally figuring out I’m not really a serial killer, chaining her in my basement would be a bad move.” The attempt at humor didn’t make him feel any better.
“Have you talked to her since you...had a falling-out, as you put it?”
“No.” Max shifted the Farmall box, lining it up precisely parallel to the edge of the counter. “She was very upset and I don’t want to upset her again.”
“Maybe she freaked out and now she’s too proud or something to reach out to you.”
Hope flamed through Max. “Do you know if that’s the case?”
“No, I don’t. Husbands and boyfriends are only given the bare minimum of details. But I do know she was wrecked. You’re not the only one hurting.” Josh took a long swig of beer. “All I’m saying is don’t give up. Maybe don’t push too hard, but don’t give up.”
“I’m trying to understand the way she thinks, but I’m lost.”
“Buddy, we’ve
all
been there.”
* * *
Every time her phone rang for days, Tori’s heart would leap in anticipation of it being Max. It never was.
She should call him. She knew he hadn’t been in the diner since Sunday and she couldn’t bear the thought of him going back to staying in his basement all the time because of her. But she was so afraid she’d make things worse, she never actually brought herself to make the call.
This time when the phone rang, it was her mother. Again. As tempting as it was to ignore the call again, they were coming more frequently now. She picked up the phone. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, honey. I thought I was going to get your voice mail again. Do you ever check those?”
“I’ve been a little under the weather, Mom.” She winced, realizing she couldn’t use the flu excuse in case Jilly still planned to use it to save Thanksgiving. “I’m sorry.”
“Do you have any idea what’s going on with Jilly? She’s not returning my calls. You do all realize Thanksgiving is next week, right?”
“Yes, we do. And I don’t know about Aunt Jilly, Mom. I haven’t seen her lately. She’s probably busy and forgot to call you back. There’s been a lot going on with Gav—”
“I don’t think it’s too much to ask for a person to return a phone call.”
Tori sighed. If her mother didn’t care what was happening in her daughter’s life, it stood to reason she wasn’t going to care about her nephew’s, either. “If I see her, I’ll give her a nudge.”
“Thank you. It would be nice to have my sister’s support in these trying times. Your father has a new girlfriend. Did I tell you that? I should feel sorry for her. It won’t be long before she realizes what a sorry piece of—”
“Mom!” Tori felt something inside of her snap. “Do you realize that’s my dad you’re talking about?”
“Of course I know he’s your father.”
“He’s my
dad.
It hurts me when you say awful things about him, just like it hurts me when he says things about you. You’re my parents. Both of you. Still. You may have divorced each other, but you’re not divorced from me.”
“This isn’t about you, Victoria. This is about—”
“You know what, Mom? I’m sorry you’re unhappy. I’m sorry Dad’s unhappy. But I’m not letting either of you make
me
unhappy anymore.”
“Victoria Jean Burns!”
“When you call me, you can ask about me and you can tell me what’s going on with you, but if you mention Dad, I will hang up on you. And I’m going to tell him the same thing and I mean it. I’m sick of your anger and the petty comments and...all of this.”
“Of course I’m angry with your father. Do you know what he did? He—”
For the first time in her life, Tori hung up on a person. The fact it was her mother made her hands shake slightly, but she would do it again. And again and again until her parents got the message.
She was done giving their unhappiness power over her life.
Her parents were weak. It wasn’t strength that had held their marriage together for so long. It was fear of walking away and starting over. So they’d stewed in resentment for years, hiding it from everybody because neither of them had the guts to end their misery, until it boiled over in a steaming heap of anger and hate they flung at each other, not caring that it burned their daughter in the process.
It wasn’t love that turned her parents on each other. It was the
lack
of love and clinging to something that made them miserable and bitter because they were too afraid to go out and find what made them happy.
Tori wasn’t weak. She was stronger than her parents. She was strong enough to take a chance on love and, if it didn’t work out, she was strong enough to part ways before it got ugly.
She just needed to be strong enough to face the man she’d hurt figuring it out.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Max wasn’t sure how long he looked at the photo of Tori on his phone after Josh left, or how many times he had to tap it with his thumb to keep the screen from going dark.
He hadn’t known when he took the photo that she’d be the woman he’d fall in love with. He only knew he’d been drawn to her friendly, funny nature and wanted to get to know her better.
But I do know she was wrecked.
He couldn’t shake Josh’s words. No matter how much it had hurt to watch her walk out the door without looking back, he couldn’t stand the thought of her hurting, too.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he hit the button to call her. Then, drumming his fingers on the island counter, he waited. It rang three times and he was already wondering if he was about to get her voice mail because she was working or if she didn’t want to talk to him when he heard her voice. “Hello, Max.”
“Hi. I...” Now he had no idea what to say. Maybe he should have called Colin first. Or Josh. “I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m okay. Not great. But I’m okay. Are you?”
“I miss you.” He realized belatedly that could sound like pressure. “But I’m okay, too.”
“I guess
okay
is going to replace
nice
in the ‘words we use to avoid saying what we really mean’ category, huh?”
He realized at some point he’d stood and was pacing, and forced himself to sit down. “So you’re not okay.”
“I’m trying to be. I’ve been doing some thinking—some soul-searching—and trying to get my head on straight.”
“I’m sorry I pushed, Tori. I knew you weren’t ready, but I zeroed in on what I wanted, which was you. And I’m very direct. Too direct, I guess.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. I never want you to hide how you feel about anything from me. Even if it’s how you feel about me.” She was quiet for a few seconds. “I’m glad you called. I’ve been thinking about calling you, but I wasn’t sure if I should.”
“You’re still my friend, Tori. I didn’t stop suddenly caring about you.”
“You haven’t been coming into town. I hate that you’re isolating yourself again and it’s my fault.”
“As much as I like eating at the diner, that’s your place of business. It would be wrong of me to show up there while you’re working.”
“I appreciate that. But you’re still
my
friend, too. I guess I haven’t been a very good one, but I mean it.”
He wasn’t sure what to say to that. It was nice to know they could still be friends, but he didn’t think he was ready to walk into the diner and face her over a cup of coffee and half a turkey sandwich.
“I miss you, too, Max,” she said quietly.
Fresh pain hit him like a fist and he swallowed hard. He wanted to tell her he’d stop into the diner or invite her over to watch another Marvel movie, but he couldn’t get the words out.
“Maybe I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, which was the best he could do.
“I hope so. I’ve missed the sound of your voice.”
“I’m going to go now, but I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Bye, Max.”
He hit the button to end the call and set the phone on the counter. He was conflicted—part of him happy that she sounded okay and wanted to remain friends, and another part angry that she was okay because he didn’t want to be just friends.
Being conflicted made him anxious, so he rolled up his sleeves to do some cleaning. Anything to calm the jumpiness he’d been feeling since Josh had given him hope that all wasn’t lost with Tori.
It wasn’t until he went to take the garbage bag out of the can and saw the bulletin board on the fridge that he realized he hadn’t made out his lists for November. He’d been too busy getting ready for the Halloween party.
Staring at October’s lists, he looked at what he’d written over a month before.
Find a date.
He’d never even bothered to cross it off. Ripping the page off the bulletin board, he crumpled the paper in his fist and threw it across the room.
* * *
Tori walked out of her apartment not even five minutes after hanging up the phone. Now that she’d heard Max’s voice, she needed to see him. She had things to say that weren’t meant for cell phone conversations.
During the drive to his house, she tried to imagine what she might say to him, but it didn’t matter. She knew as soon as he opened the door and she looked into those intense green eyes, she would forget anything she rehearsed anyway.
All she could do was hope that when the time came, she’d find the right words to say.
When she’d hung up on her mother, the tight and suffocating fear had started loosening its hold on her. Love hadn’t poisoned her parents. They were, as Max had said that day in the grass, just simply assholes. Acknowledging it and cutting it out of her life had felt like cutting loose a cement block tied around her ankle, slowly dragging her under.
But it was seeing his name on her cell phone’s screen, and his quiet voice asking her if she was okay that had pulled her to the surface.
She pulled into his driveway and took a deep breath before getting out of the car. Then, hoping she wouldn’t get the same reaction she had the last time she showed up unexpectedly, she knocked on the door.
Max opened it, and his expression gave her nothing to go on. Somehow that was even worse than horror. His hair was tousled and his sleeves were rolled up, which was probably the most disheveled she’d ever seen him outside of bed.
Knowing he was probably trying to process the fact she was standing on his step rather than being rude by not saying anything, she smiled. “Can I come in?”
“Oh. Of course.”
She followed him into the house and closed the door behind her. He leaned against the stove, his hands clasped.
“I’m sorry, Max. I’m sorry I let a relationship that had nothing to do with us torpedo ours.”
“It didn’t have
nothing
to do with us. They’re your parents.”
“I told her I didn’t want to hear it anymore. I hung up on her.”
“That was probably very hard. I’m sorry she made it come to that, but I think you’ll be happier.”
“I already am. I realized, afterward, that I’m not even
capable
of being like her. I could never behave like that to anybody. Especially you. And it was always about me and my fear of becoming my mother. I was afraid I’d hurt you, but I never believed you’d hurt me. I hope you know that.”
“I know that sometimes things happen in life that cause fears that don’t make sense to anybody else, but that doesn’t make them any less real. I hope recognizing that what happened between your parents—and you—isn’t normal helps.”
“It did. But it was you. I freaked out and was totally unreasonable—and yes, I admit that—and I hurt you, but you still called to make sure I was okay. I trust you and you helped me trust myself.
“I love you, Max. I’m sorry I was too afraid to tell you that. I was so afraid to admit it to myself. But you are...amazing. There’s nobody else I’d rather spend time with and you’re not only my friend. You’ve become my best friend.”
Finally, he moved toward her. Putting his finger under her chin, he tipped her face up and looked her in the eye. “I love you, too, Tori. I’ve waited my whole life to find you.”
Relief flooded through her, making her knees weak.
Max was hers. Sweet, shy, sexy Max who hated the way she loaded his dishwasher but didn’t say so because he was willing to make room for her in his regularly scheduled life.
“I guess
Operation—Makeover Max
is a qualified success,” she said.
He winced. “It had a name?”
“Of course. Everything’s more fun when it has a name.”
“Why is it qualified?”
She grinned. “Well, I was supposed to make
you
over, not the other way around.”
“I got a date to agree to let me take her home while I was wearing a Hannibal Lecter mask. I’m calling it a win.”
Laughing, she threw her arms around his neck as he lifted her up to kiss her. Not until they needed to come up for air did he set her back on her feet.
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So, my fair lady, is this the part where I push you up against the wall, kiss you until you can’t breathe and then bang you right here on the floor?”
“Let’s get off this ceramic tile and you can ask me again.”
* * * * *