Authors: Cora Carmack
Cade
W
hen she opened the door, the sight of her undid me. Her hair was longer and so blond it was almost white. Her normal curls were gone, and it fell in long, straight sheets. My heart sunk because I thought she’d tamed her hair color to appease her parents. Then she turned to the side to gesture me in, and the light hit her hair through a window. It was not white, but a very pale purple.
She smiled, and she seemed genuinely glad to see me.
“The hair looks great,” I said.
The top half of her hair was pulled back so that it didn’t cover the birds on her neck. Her clothing wasn’t outrageous, but it was still her. More importantly, it didn’t feel like she was hiding.
She shrugged. “You told me to be myself, so I am.”
I didn’t have to fake the smile that spread across my face.
Max moved toward the couch and fiddled with her carry-on, giving me the chance to take her in completely. She looked nervous, but I was sure it was just about seeing her parents.
I was a mess inside. I couldn’t make up my mind whether I wanted to turn around and walk out the door, or pull her into my arms and kiss her. I settled for behaving as naturally as possible.
I didn’t know what to say, so I settled for being useful. As soon as she had zipped up her duffel bag, I leaned around her and took it. My chest brushed against her back, and she stiffened.
I moved back quickly, but the damage had already been done. She moved away from me to grab a few more of her things.
“Are you nervous?” I asked.
She looked up at me, her blue eyes wide and questioning. Her eyes made this so much more difficult.
When she didn’t answer, I added, “About your parents?”
She breathed a laugh and said, “Only enough to throw up.”
It was good to hear her laugh.
“Oh, is that all?”
I followed her out into the hallway and waited while she locked her apartment. Over her shoulder she said, “ I should warn you, my sister-in-law, Bethany, is the Antichrist in panty hose.”
I laughed, and she whipped around to face me. She looked so surprised. I could only imagine what she had expected out of this trip. Maybe she thought I’d try to get her back. Probably she just expected me to be broken up over what she’d done.
I was sick of being that guy.
There was no reason I couldn’t act normal. I was an actor for God’s sake.
She said, “You laugh, but I’m serious. Spending time with her is like taking a cheese grater to the brain.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
She gave me a look and said, “When she married my brother, she insisted on having white doves released when they kissed. They got married in Oklahoma. She’s lucky someone in the audience didn’t stand up and open fire.”
“So she’s a bit crazy, but aren’t all women like that about their weddings?”
We emerged onto the street and she added, “She told me I wasn’t allowed to be a bridesmaid because my skin tone would clash with the dresses she’d chosen.”
I winced, but she wasn’t done. “Yeah. She was also runner-up for Miss Oklahoma like eight years ago, and she still maintains that the pageant was fixed, and she should have won.”
A cab was waiting for us at the curb, and I opened the door for Max to slide in first. “I get it. Don’t leave Max alone with Bethany or the sister-in-law might lose her waving hand.”
As we set off for the airport, the conversation became forced. It was harder to pretend when we were in such a small space and had a cabdriver as an audience. She twisted her hands nervously in her lap. One hand wandered up to the skin of her neck and brushed across the birds on her neck.
Before I could stop myself I asked, “Why birds?”
She looked like she’d forgotten that I was there completely. I wished I was capable of the same. She worried her lips with her teeth and I said, “Sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”
“It’s okay. It’s pretty cliché. Before there was a bell jar, there was a cage.” She curved her hand around her neck and said, “I got these when I dropped out of UPenn. The first time I tried to stop pretending. They were supposed to keep me looking up and moving forward. Now they feel like a lie.”
I reached out and pulled her hand away from her neck. I ignored the shock of warmth and said, “It’s going to be okay, Max.”
I released her hand, and she wrapped both arms around her middle, like she was holding herself together.
“You’re really dreading this, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea. My mother is so hard-core about Christmas. She’s like the love child of Mrs. Claus and the Terminator. If you even look like you’re not filled with Christmas cheer, she’ll be shoving eggnog and cookies and Christmas carols down your throat.” She laughed, and it felt forced, but I could tell she was ready for a subject change, so I went with it.
I shrugged and said, “I like eggnog.”
She groaned, but her frustration gave way to a smile. Each new smile looked a little less faked, and I made a silent goal to put her completely at ease. I was a masochist. I was just as bad as that crazy monk in
The Da Vinci Code,
only her smile was my whip.
“So, um.” She fidgeted with her hands. “I should have said it before, but thank you for showing up. . . . I’m glad I won’t be alone.”
“You’re welcome.”
I thought that would be the end of it, but her cheeks flushed and she continued, “And well, we don’t have to . . . that is, if you’re uncomfortable about pretending to be together, we don’t have to really do anything, um, couple-like.”
I forced a smile. I’d been thinking of that almost constantly. Part of me thought I should avoid couple behavior at all costs, but another part of me saw it as a golden opportunity.
“Pretending won’t bother me.” Maybe saying it out loud would make it truer. “It’s not a big deal. Acting is what I do.”
She nodded, her lips pursed into a straight line. “Right, of course, I just wanted to . . . offer.”
Max’s anxiety continued to build so that by the time we boarded the plane, she looked ready to turn around and go back.
She gestured for me to take the window seat, and she sat on the aisle, leaning as far away from me as she could. She kicked off her shoes and pulled up her knees, like she was at home sitting on her couch. When we were high enough in the air that we could use electronics, she pulled out her phone and tucked her earbuds in. I could hear her music from here, and I wondered if it helped to drown out her fears.
I closed my eyes, leaned my head against the window, and tried to do some drowning of my own. It didn’t take long before my head drooped, and I drifted into a peaceful nap.
What felt like moments later, a movement against my shoulder jostled me awake. I lifted my head up from the window, and my face itched from where it had been pressed against the plastic window cover. I blinked, and looked over to find Max’s cheek perched on my shoulder.
Her brows were knit together, and her eyes clenched shut. She took short, sharp breaths, and every few seconds her expression would contract in what looked like pain. She mewled and pushed her face into my shoulder. She looked like a completely different person—vulnerable and in pain.
When she muttered “Alex” in her sleep, I placed my hand on her cheek.
A few other passengers were starting to stare. I put my face close to hers, and whispered, “It’s a dream, Max. Wake up.”
Her hand fisted in my shirt, and I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.
“Sssh. You’re okay. I’m here. Just wake up.”
Her eyes flew open, and she flinched back.
“It was a dream.” I kept repeating that sentence because I wasn’t sure she heard me. Her gaze darted around us, but when she realized where we were, she released her grip on my shirt.
“You okay?” I asked.
She pressed her lips together and nodded. She closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. She tipped her head back toward the seat, but my arm was still around her. When her neck touched my bicep, her eyes met mine.
Max
M
y emotions were still on overdrive from my dream, and having his arm around me sent my heart sprinting. I stared at him, tracing the line of his nose and the curve of his cheekbones with my eyes. His face had the stubble that I loved so much, and his eyes were still heavy from sleep.
He smiled, and a familiar warmth uncurled low in my belly. I wet my lips, and his eyes cleared. I couldn’t make myself look away. Confusion crept into his expression, but he didn’t break our gaze either. I wanted him to know how badly I felt, but I didn’t know how to put it into words. I didn’t know if it even mattered to him. He shifted in his chair, and his arm weighed heavier around my shoulders.
God, I was so confused. I was Alice in Wonderland, tumbling down the rabbit hole for a second time. I was lying with my head against his arm when a flight attendant tapped me on the shoulder to ask if I’d like a drink. I gave a polite nod and by the time I looked back at Cade, his arm was no longer around me, and he was looking down. My earbuds were still dangling around my neck, music blaring. I turned down the volume and opened my mouth to say something. What I was going to say was a mystery, but if I stayed silent any longer I was going to spontaneously combust. I took a deep breath, and he spoke before I could.
“The past is past, Angry Girl.”
I snapped my mouth closed, and after a moment, I nodded.
He pressed his lips together in something that was meant to be a smile, but there was no life in it. And his eyes were distant, like he was looking past me.
For the first time I felt positive that he was acting.
Suddenly, the thought of spending days with him didn’t make me nervous. It made me sad. There were many parts of my life that I wanted to leave firmly in the past, but now I was pretty sure he wasn’t one of them.
Once again, I was too late.
Cade
I
hated how easy it was to put on a mask in front of her. I’d been pushing her to be herself, and I wasn’t any better. All I wanted to do was grab her and kiss her.
But I had to listen to my brain instead of my heart. It was the only way I could survive this trip. The new hair color softened her somehow, but her eyes were lined with terror. It was so unnatural to see fear written across the face of a girl who was so fearless that for a few moments she had felt like another person entirely.
So, I told her what she needed to hear. Even though it shredded me.
She relaxed, but only a little. She spent the rest of the flight fidgeting and checking the time. The closer we got to landing, the more frenetic she became.
The plane’s descent turned rapid, and Max tensed up. Her hands clutched the armrests, and her eyes closed. She pressed her head back into the seat, sat very still, and took deep breaths. I had the urge to put my arm around her again, but I fought it off.
I asked, “Is it the landing that has you nervous or what’s waiting for us on the ground?”
She didn’t open her eyes as she answered, “I choose option C.”
“Both?”
She nodded. She licked her lips and explained, “I just feel like landings last about one minute longer than I can handle. And frankly, as far as this trip is concerned, I’d prefer we just stay in the air.”
She didn’t get her wish. The sound of the wind roared in the cabin as the plane came in for a landing. Her hands turned white on the armrests, and her lip turned a vivid pink as she bit down. I knew, logically, that she was nervous, but the tension in her neck and the way she worried her bottom lip reminded me of other things entirely, and I had to look away.
The wheels touched down, and she pressed her hands into the back of the seat in front of her, grimacing as the plane slowed down. When it was over, she released a long breath and wilted back into her chair. I waited for her to perk back up, but her eyes stayed closed, and her hands still gripped the armrests.
“You’re looking a little green, Angry Girl.”
I was expecting a response like “You’re looking like you wanna get punched, Golden Boy.”
Instead, she stayed silent. When she did open her eyes, she just stared at the people ahead of us unloading their things and pressed her palms into her thighs. I didn’t see her fear anymore. I didn’t see anything really. She was blank, like she had just shut down completely. It was torture seeing her this way. Maybe I shouldn’t have made her do this.
I decided then . . . no matter how painful it was or what it cost me, I’d help her get through this in whatever way I could. Even if I never saw her again afterward.
I carried both of our bags off the plane, and Max was quiet as we left the terminal for the arrivals area. She pulled out her cell with numb hands to call her parents. We walked side by side until suddenly she was no longer there. I looked back, and she was standing still as a statue, looking as if she might scream or pass out or both.
When I got closer she groaned, “They didn’t.”
“Who didn’t?” I asked. “What’s the matter?” I placed my hands on her arms and her eyes snapped to mine. For a few seconds neither of us said anything, and I knew I’d crossed a line. I pulled back, and put another foot between us.
Her face went soft, and she said, “I’m sorry.”
I thought she meant for her reaction to my touch until she stepped behind me and began buttoning her coat. She fastened it all the way up to her neck, and threw on her scarf, too. She undid the clip holding back her hair so that it fell around her face.
She still looked beautiful, but I knew what she was doing.
“Max . . . what is going on?”
She tamed her appearance with the same ease and efficiency that she had before her parents’ arrival on the day we met. I turned and looked behind me, but I couldn’t see her parents anywhere.
“Damn it, Max, we talked about this . . .”
“I know.” Her eyes met mine, and they weren’t blank anymore. “They sent Bethany and Michael to pick us up. I just can’t start with her. I can only fight this battle once.”
The minute she had hidden all the things that made her Max, her body relaxed and all the tension that had plagued her disappeared. I had the sinking feeling that I wouldn’t see my Max again for the rest of the trip. Not that she was mine anymore. Or ever had been really.
“I promise I’ll do it, Cade.” She sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than me.
I sighed and said, “Okay, fine. Let’s go meet the Antichrist.”
She squared her shoulders, like she was preparing for battle. I followed her glare across the terminal to a couple dressed in business attire, and I recognized the man as an older version of the brother I’d seen in her mother’s photo album.
The couple started toward us, linked at the elbow. Her brother was in a suit, his tie loosened slightly. The woman on his arm, Bethany, looked to be mid-to-late twenties. She was wearing a red dress and black heels that looked more appropriate for a cocktail party or a political campaign than picking someone up from the airport. She had long, flowing blond hair that reminded me of Sleeping Beauty. She was smiling widely and giving a small wave that I imagined she had perfected during her run for Miss Oklahoma.
Max looked like she wanted to take out all her nerves and fears on a punching bag with blond hair. I could see already that this was going to be a very long trip.
“Mackenzie, sweetheart!” Bethany called. “It’s so good to see you! We’ve heard so much about your little boyfriend that I just insisted that Michael and I be the ones to pick you up. I
had
to see this for myself.”
I leaned closer and reminded her, “Breathe.”
Bethany’s appearance was meticulous, from her manicured nails to her blond ringlets; they stopped simultaneously, as if all of their movements as a couple were choreographed, and stared at Max. Her sister-in-law looked at her from head to toe, and then clucked pitifully. “Don’t you look
tired
from your flight.”
Max gave a grim smile and opened her mouth. I rushed to cut her off. “It’s so nice to meet you both,” I said, holding out my hand. Michael shook my hand first. He looked like he could care less what his sister looked like. He was more concerned with the BlackBerry he kept pulling out of his pocket. “I’m Cade. Though it sounded like you already knew that.”
Bethany smiled. “Yes, all Betty and Mick have talked about is how much of a”—she paused and looked back at Max—“
good influence
you’ve been on our Mackenzie. Lord knows she needed someone to whip her into shape. I’ve been trying for years, but an Ivy League education can only work so much magic.”
I returned to Max’s side, unsure whether or not to touch her. Her fists were clenched tightly at her side, so I took that as a no. Bethany kept talking. “Now, Mackenzie, don’t you worry for a second about that bad dye job. It might be tough, since it’s the holidays, but I bet my hairstylist can squeeze you in and get all of
that
taken care of.” Bethany’s gesture didn’t cover Max’s hair so much as all of her.
I watched Max inhale and exhale very slowly. This appeared to be another instance where her coping mechanism wasn’t quite working. I considered turning her around and walking away. I didn’t want to see her put up with this any more than she wanted to deal with it herself.
“Listen, Beth—” She said the name with such malice that I was sure she was thinking of another
b
-word.
I cut in before the conversation could become dominated by four-letter words.
“You don’t like her hair lavender?” I asked. “I think it’s beautiful.”
Max stiffened beside me, my attempt to put her at ease failing miserably.
Bethany smiled. “Oh, bless your heart. That’s sweet, but you don’t have to coddle her. If there’s anything our Mackenzie is it’s tough. She can handle it.”
Max took a step forward, and I stopped worrying about whether or not it was okay to touch her. I clamped my arm down on her shoulder to hold her in place.
I said, “Do you think we could get on the road? I don’t know about Max, but it’s been a long trip, and I’m anxious to get settled in.”
“You don’t have any checked bags?” Bethany looked at the Max’s duffle bag and my backpack slung over one arm. “Tell me you don’t have your dress wadded up in there.”
Max’s face went pale. “What dress?”
“For the Charity Gala at the hospital. Your mother has been talking about it nonstop. She didn’t tell you to bring a dress?”
Max groaned and said, “I vaguely recall her mentioning something like that, but she didn’t say we had to
go
.”
“Well you do.” Bethany looked pleased at Max’s misery. She huffed as if Max had just ruined Christmas. “I guess we’ll have to squeeze in a shopping trip in the morning along with a hair appointment. I don’t know how your family survived before I came along.” Bethany looked up at Max’s brother and said, “Are you ready, sweetie?”
He paused whatever he was doing on his BlackBerry and said, “Whenever you are, honey.”
The two shared a kiss that left even me feeling like I’d overdosed on sugar.
“Follow us.” Bethany turned and trounced away, her curls bouncing slightly with her movement.
‘I’m going to kill her,” Max breathed. “You’re going to find her body chopped up and wrapped in individual boxes under the tree.”
“It’s scary how much I actually think you might mean that.”
We followed at a distance, and I kept my hand around Max’s shoulder the entire time. I don’t know if she even noticed. She was too concentrated on sending imaginary Chinese throwing stars at the back of Bethany’s head.
“She is everything I hate about my family,” Max said. “She makes me sick.”
I didn’t like the girl either, but Max spoke with a kind of venom that worried me. “Every family has one,” I told her. “And in a few days, you’ll be gone and won’t have to see her for another year.”
“You don’t get it.” Without looking away from Bethany, she said, “That
was
me. I was just like her all through high school. I was just as fake and vile and—”
I pulled her to a stop and said, “And now you’re not. You beat yourself up because of who you were and because of who you’re not and even because of who you are. You’ve got to stop.”
She stared at me, and I could tell I had penetrated her walls, if only for just a moment. Then Bethany turned over her shoulder and called, “You’ll have to forgive the car. There was a mix-up at the rental company, and they gave someone else the BMW that Michael reserved. This was the best they could do on such short notice.”
“Let’s go,” Max said. She pulled away and walked a few paces ahead of me all the way to a brand-new Toyota SUV that probably cost more than a new liver on the black market.
Michael opened the front door for Bethany, and placed a quick kiss on her lips before opening the trunk for us. I threw our bags in, and opened the door for Max.
“What a gentleman,” Bethany said. “Your taste really is improving, Max.”
There was going to be blood spatter all over these nice leather seats if she wasn’t careful. Max sat stiffly against the seat, her fists clenched in her lap. I placed a hand over one of her fists and squeezed. I figured the best thing I could do was to get Bethany talking about herself.
Once we were out of the parking garage and on the road, I asked, “So, how long have you two been married?”
“Oh two years this June. We had the most glorious June wedding. Everything about it was just
perfect.
”
Michael put the car in drive and said, “Only as perfect as you.”
Bethany aww’d, and the two of them looked away from the road long enough to share a quick kiss.
Max made a noise like she was going to hurl and said, “Perfect driver, too.”
“Any chance we’ll be hearing wedding bells in your future?” Bethany asked.
I couldn’t look at Max. I played my role, kept my eyes on the audience, stayed in character, and said, “We’re just taking things slow, seeing how things go.”
“Oh.” Bethany’s lips turned down in a pout and she gave Max a look of pity. “Of course you are.”
I followed Bethany’s eyes to Max in time to see her press her forehead against the window and close her eyes. She pulled her hand away from mine, and began to close herself off again.
I asked, “How long until we get to Max’s parents’ house?”
“It’s about a thirty-minute drive,” Michael answered.
“If they don’t kiss us into a ditch first,” Max said.