The Mischievous Mrs. Maxfield (86 page)

“Looks like you’re humping the tree you were barking up not so long ago,” she said silkily. 

Right. Because the devil had recruits to proxy for him while he was away to do other reprehensible things. 

“Er, no,” I blurted out. “There is nothing about your tree that I could possibly want.”

“It didn’t look like it when I saw you two earlier,” Bessy retorted as she started circling me—yes, seriously circling me. “Don likes a challenge and you’d definitely be one for him. But you’re not going to be.”

I rolled my eyes. “Did you hear me volunteering or tackling anybody down for the sign-up sheet? ‘Coz I sure as hell didn’t.”

She paused and glared at me. “I’ll give you the same advice you gave me about him, Charlotte—stay away. He’s mine.”

I furrowed my brows. “I’m pretty sure he’s your cousin’s but it’s not a connection I endorse so we won’t get too technical. Don is bad news, Bess, for you and Layla. I suggest you quit while you’re ahead.”

I never liked Bessy because in all the years we’ve known each other—she never gave me one reason to. That said, she was still a woman, and very much still a child (as petulant as she was) and despite all the things about her that often drove me to the point of hatred, I didn’t want to leave her vulnerable to the monster who was going to play with her before devouring her whole.

“I know he and Layla are having problems,” Bessy said a-matter-of-factly as if the condition of her cousin’s troubled marriage was old news. “After all, that’s why he came to me. It’s probably for the best that she’d decided to leave him now. He wasn’t happy with her. But he can be with me.”

I snorted. “Well, a punching bag needs to be occasionally changed, once it’s been sufficiently worn out. God knows why you’d volunteer.”

She didn’t flinch. In fact, she knew Don’s tendencies very well by the look that crossed her face. I didn’t want to explicitly divulge Layla’s secret but I had to test just how much Bessy knew. She knew way too much already and my heart twisted for her. 

“Don gets rough but only because he has a lot of things stressing him out,” she explained as if I would buy one bit of it. “Layla isn’t helping his issues. Do you know that they’ve been married all these years but she hasn’t given him one child?”

Praise for Layla’s wisdom then, if it happened to be a conscious decision in her case. Why give the monster another victim?

“If I were her, I wouldn’t give Don a damn thing,” I scoffed. “And you shouldn’t either, Bess.”

“You have no say who I decide to be with,” Bessy snapped.

I stared at her thoughtfully. “It doesn’t sound like you have a say either. Are you in trouble with Don, Bessy?”

She stared at me a fraction too long before she threw her head back and laughed. “God, Charlotte. You’ve got to stop thinking of everyone as an injured stray you can fix or something. I’m not in trouble at all. I’m where I want to be.”

Something niggled at me despite Bessy’s declarations—maybe it was the fact that she seemed to be in need of convincing of her own reassurances as much as I was.

“You can laugh at it however you like but I’m serious when I tell you that he’s bad news, Bess,” I told her with a firm nod. “I don’t like you but I don’t want to see you repeat a history that’s still in the making.”

And before she could laugh at my face again or dismiss my warnings, I turned away and headed back to the party. 

Sometimes, the illusion of love is nothing but a neat trick you fall for.

***

Despite all the machinations cooking just below the surface, things in the next week or so seemed relatively normal.

Layla had boarded a bus two days ago to go see her father who currently lived in Seattle, leaving Danny and Riley by themselves at my old house. It was going to be some time before she got there.

Meanwhile, the Maxfield clan was busy finalizing plans for Martin’s birthday party.

He told us that we shouldn’t make a big fuss about it—he was just getting old, after all—but his kids, especially the girls, were adamant to throw him a party befitting the king that he was to them, insisting they’d been planning one for months now.

“Who knows if he’ll be here next year?” Anna said when Martin was out of earshot later that day, shortly after the family lunch when he went upstairs to get ready to go golfing with Brandon and Jake. The rest of us were lounging in the sun room, waiting for the event-planning team we’d hired to arrive and finalize plans with us, and for Jake who skipped out lunch for a reason I knew perfectly well, to come by and pick up father and son. 

“Anna!” I gasped out in horror. “Don’t think like that! Your father will probably live forever.  Old wise men always do.”

“No, he won’t,” she countered in a grumpy voice even though I caught the anxious flash in her eyes. “After the scare he gave us this year, I’m not taking any chances.”

“I think that Dad is stubborn enough not to go unless he’s seen all of us settled and happy,” Brandon said as he picked up a couple of the floor plans Tessa had sketched and handed to him. The party was going to be held in this house, since the Maxfield family was one of the few to have retained their historic family home within the city central. “And since Mattie’s probably got another two decades before he gets married, Dad will be around for a good long while. Right, kiddo?”

Mattie looked up from his notebook where he was making revisions to a song he was creating for Martin and twitched his nose at his brother. “I don’t want to wait till I’m as old as you before I get married. I think I know who I want to marry and when we’re both old enough, I won’t waste time.”

Brandon choked on the tea he was just sipping and the rest of us giggled. “Holy macaroni, Matthew. You’re too young to know what you’re talking about.”

“Hey! Love knows no age or race or station in life,” Anna chided, throwing Brandon a napkin. 

Brandon caught it and dabbed his chin as soon he set his cup down. “Leave you to make that pronouncement.”

Mattie grinned at his older brother. “I’m just not fickle-minded like you, Brand.”

“Oh, burn!” I burst out laughing and swooped down to haul the boy away just as Brandon lunged for him. 

“You think Charlotte can save you, scamp? Think again,” Brandon said in a big, action-hero-villain voice before he leapt from his seat to tackle both me and his brother to the floor, tickling us both until we were all shrieking and gasping with laughter.

Mattie accidentally grabbed Tessa by the ankle, pulling her into the fray and before we knew it, even Anna had jumped in, hitting her older brother with a cushion as he tried to toss Mattie at her.

“Um, should I come back another time?”

We all looked up at the question and found Jason standing behind the couch, looking at us uncertainly.

“Jason!” Anna squeaked, mopping her hair off her face (even though it detracted nothing from her perfect good looks) and getting up on her feet. “What are you doing here?”

Jason studied what probably looked like a disheveled pile of Maxfields of all ages on the floor, catching my eye for a second, before shrugging and going with the straightforward answer. “I wanted to talk to you. I tried your apartment but you weren’t there. Could you spare me a small chunk of your afternoon? Maybe go for a drive?”

Anna glanced around at us, indecision clear on her face.

She’d been avoiding him as the wheels started to turn in his separation from his wife, but Jason looked a bit exhausted and desperate that I wouldn’t blame Anna if she was seriously thinking over the walls she’d put between them.

The fact that he’d shown up at her father’s house, knowing how coolly he’d be received by the rest of the Maxfield clan, spoke volumes about how determined he was to overhaul his life if it meant a chance with her.

It still bothered me that there was another person in this equation who was being betrayed and hurt, but sometimes, ripping the Band-Aid off and actually treating the wound was the only way to heal it.

“The event planners will be here any minute now,” Tessa said flatly, her disapproval still written all over her face.

“Which Tessa, Mattie and I could handle, if Anna needed to attend to something,” I added, compromising. Anna could decide what she wanted to do without us weighing our biases in because we had plenty.

Brandon got up to his feet and helped up Anna. He glanced at Jason expectantly and in a low voice reminded the man, “I trust that you’ll both take care not to start speculations.”

“I won’t be long,” Anna said, turning to grab her little white leather wristlet from the couch. “Let’s go, Jason.”

As if rushing before anyone could change their mind, herself included, Anna grabbed Jason by the arm and practically dragged him out through the door. 

Once they were gone, Tessa sighed out loud and started picking up the cushions strewn all over the floor.

“Who was that?” Mattie asked as he collected his notebook and pen. “Tess didn’t like him too much.”

Tessa smirked at her younger brother. “You’re way too perceptive for your age, Mattie.”

“Only ‘coz you’re so obvious,” Mattie replied with an impish grin.

“That was Jason—a friend of Anna’s,” I told the boy, hoping that the vague answer would suffice. “Come on, let’s clean up before our guests arrive and wonder if the house has been robbed or something.”

Five minutes later, once the seating area has been put back to rights, Jake strolled in, looking preppy in his white golf shirt and sleeveless bright blue vest. 

He flashed us an easy-going smile although I noticed he didn’t direct a glance in Tessa’s direction at all.

“Where’s Martin?” he asked Brandon as Mattie came up to him for a high five. “Are we ready or what?”

“Go get Dad, Mattie,” Brandon told his younger brother before turning to his friend.“We were ready ages ago since after lunch. Why did you skip out on it today? You always show up for the food alone.”

Jake gave Brandon a half-scowl. “I’ve got family of my own too, you know? My parents occasionally want to have lunch with their awesome son.”

A cross between a snort and a giggle bubbled out of Tessa, of all people. “I thought they disowned you five years ago after your Mom found out you slept with her newly-divorced friend who was almost twenty years older than you were.”

I made a face. Despite knowing Jake well, I apparently didn’t know him well enough to know the more colorful facts of his past.

“If you want me to write out a list, I’ll have to cancel golf with Brandon and Martin,” Jake said quietly, finally averting his gaze to Tessa. “It’s going to take all day to go through all my past transgressions but if it lets me off the hook with each one as I write it down, I’ll do it.”

There was a slight, awkward pause and only three people in the room understood the meaning under Jake’s cryptic statement.

“Alright boys, let’s go!” Martin’s voice boomed into the room as he sauntered in with Mattie in tow. “I haven’t played in ages. Let’s go while the sun is still out and it’s warm.”

Martin’s entrance spurred us all back into action, the awkward moment quickly forgotten.

“He’s going to drive me crazy,” Tessa muttered beside me as we watched the men head out of the door. “Someday, he’ll actually manage it.”

“I think he can say the same about you,” I said meaningfully. “Makes one wonder whether you just drive each other crazy, or you’re crazy for each other.”

“Charlotte! That’s not fair!” Tessa chided, her eyes wide with indignation. “Don’t twist this into some romantic comedy that starts out wrong and works out right.”

I flashed her a cheeky smile. “I haven’t thought of it that way but you apparently have.”

Tessa cast a nervous glance at Mattie in case he was listening but the boy was bent over his notebook on the far end of the couch, scribbling intently. 

“I’m familiar enough with a foolish teenage girl’s fantasies to know that this has the makings of one,” Tessa said with a small sigh, regret clear in her eyes. “Jake Hastings isn’t some prince charming, no matter how much he looks like one. We had a couple special times and I’d like to leave it at that. I don’t want a tumultuous relationship or a nasty break up to destroy us forever because I don’t want to lose him completely like that.”

“Maybe you won’t,” I said softly, cupping her elbow in a supportive gesture. 

“Oh, I will,” Tessa insisted with a brusque nod. “Because when he screws up, and I’ve known him long enough to be sure that he will, it’s going to hurt so much and I’ll hate him for it. I’ll hate him and there will be no going back from that. I’d rather we stay where we are and be friends, like we’ve always been.”

I suppressed a sigh. 

How do you convince a girl who for years, watched a guy drag a string of hearts along the rough, ragged patch of casual dating until they were all beaten, broken and bloody, to entrust him the heart she had protected for so long?

Could I really blame Tessa? 

No, because she’d be a fool not to be cautious. 

Could I really blame Jake?

No, because he probably had no idea that his past actions—ones that had seemed fun and harmless—were going to cost him something so precious.

So who was really to blame?