'Til I Want No More

by Robin W. Pearson

  A molten flow of words threatened to erupt as Maxine rounded on JD. Firm fingers squeezed her shoulder and backed her up a step as they bubbled to the surface.

  “Maxine, you ready to make the cobbler? I don’t have a recipe for this, but you aren’t a stranger to it. Get the flour, sugar, and shortenin’. James Dee, look in that cabinet over there for the cinnamon, allspice, salt, and vanilla extract. We’ll make the dough for the double crust and then let it chill while you slice up the sweet potatoes. I’ll get the butter.”

  “I never knew why you don’t boil the potatoes. I’d think that was easier.” JD moved bottles around in the cabinet.

  “Well, you’d think wrong,” Maxine chided him. “Boiling them zaps a lot of flavor, so Mama Ruby only uses boiled potatoes when she’s making candied yams.”

  “Child, what’s wrong with you?” Mama Ruby propped a hand on her hip.

  Lerenzo pushed open the screen door leading to the backyard. “James Dee, ayúdame por favor. I need help with something in the shed.”

  JD set down his armload and followed his host. “I’m just stepping on toes in here anyway. Or getting my own crushed.”

  The two women watched them go. “Maxine, what’s on your mind? And don’t tell me, ‘Nuthin’, Mama Ruby.’ You tried to change the subject earlier, but I’m not havin’ it.”

  Maxine twirled the utensils set out beside the sweet potatoes. “I’m fine, really.”

  “Fine is a good word for that man out there with your grandfather. Fine as wine. But I wouldn’t use that word to describe your mood right now.”

  “Mama Ruby!”

  “You know it same as I do.” She ran her yellowed fingernail along the skin of a cooled potato and peeled it. “I’ve never had nuthin’ against that child. Hasn’t he always done right by me and Lerenzo?”

  “But not by me.” Maxine used a butter knife to slit her own potato, but at her grandmother’s look she amended her response. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I appreciate his comin’ by here, checkin’ on us. We’re still family, so I don’t see why you’re so put out.”

  “He didn’t tell me.”

  “He’s supposed to?”

  Maxine focused on discarding the last of the peel.

  “Just what I thought. He’s my family, too. Ain’t that right?”

  “I suppose you can put it that way, but—”

  “Butts are for sittin’ on, not standin’ there, tellin’ me who I can see and who I can’t. And there’s no other way to put it.”

  “I keep forgetting where Mother gets her particular words of wisdom.” Maxine went back to work, scooping out flour for the crust. “I’m not trying to dictate JD’s comings and goings. I’m only saying it would’ve been nice to know he’d be here.”

  “Well, now you know. I didn’t even know you were comin’. So when you said you and Theodore couldn’t be here, we thought to see James Dee now that he’s come back home.”

  “But what if I’d brought Celeste with me?”

  “You didn’t. So no need to talk about what-ifs. It was like no time had passed, watchin’ James Dee season that roast—”

  “When I got here, you asked me what was wrong, but you already knew, didn’t you?” Maxine cut cold butter into the dry ingredients.

  “I just thought him comin’ back would stir up things for you. Not just for Celeste. For you. How you feelin’?”

  “I’m feeling engaged to Theodore, that’s how.”

  “Chile, stop foolin’ with all that.” Mama Ruby’s hands closed over Maxine’s as she was forming the dough into a ball. “Now I know you’re engaged, but that don’t stop your heart from beatin’ a little faster when it comes to James Dee.”

  “Are you saying you can love two people at the same time?”

  “Are you sayin’ you still love James Dee?”

  Maxine withdrew her hands from the protective cover of her grandma’s and opened the long drawer in front of her. She unrolled plastic wrap from the box she’d retrieved to cover the dough ball and walked it to the refrigerator. “I’m saying I need to get going. I promised Celeste I would listen to her practice her solo, and I have an article to write.”

  “Maxine.”

  “As much as I’d love to have some cobbler, y’all will have to finish up without me. Maybe I’ll swing by tomorrow for some cerdo asado and leftover dessert. That is, if Uncle Roy doesn’t polish off everything after church.” She clasped her grandmother by the shoulders and kissed her papery-soft cheek.

  Ruby grabbed one of her hands with both of hers before she could make a getaway. “Maxine Owens. You’re as muleheaded as your mama. Sweeter, but just as muleheaded. You ain’t stupid though. You know only God controls the twists and turns of the river and the minds and hearts of kings and children. I can’t tell you who to love. But I do know fussin’ don’t change nuthin’, and you can’t run from it. You only gon’ take your heart with you when you go.” She kissed her granddaughter’s fingers and released them.

  Feeling anything but free, Maxine stared at Mama Ruby for a moment before stumbling through the kitchen and out the front door.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ALL THE CRUMBS LED TO JAMES LESTER, so Monday afternoon, Maxine followed them. Rather than march up to his office and plop down in the middle of his desk, she opted to wait for JD on a shaded bench across the street from Hillsong. Maxine withdrew her laptop from her bag but soon became mesmerized by the sway of the oak tree’s leafy branches.

  Watching the movement of their shadows on the brick pavers catapulted her thoughts to those long-ago Saturdays when Mama Ruby would drive Maxine into Mount Laurel to shop and pay her telephone and utility bills. Ruby didn’t trust debit cards or paying by the mail. She preferred to look folks in the eye when they handled her money. Maxine figured her grandma took such joy in catering because she could witness her clients’ satisfaction when they took a bite or returned an empty plate.

  From her vantage point across the street, Maxine searched for life in the newly remodeled home of Hillsong, what was once the department store where Mama Ruby shopped for Maxine’s school clothes. Pink and white azaleas and variegated hostas sprouted from planters placed every few feet around the white-brick building. Butterflies and bees flitted and buzzed about the vegetation, serving as the outreach center’s only visitors, since most people had streamed from the community center and other downtown businesses an hour earlier. Just as she decided to pack up her laptop to head home, out strolled JD. No strutting this time.

  He was no unsophisticated nineties sitcom star in his light-blue shirt, burgundy paisley tie, and pin-striped navy slacks. A suit coat draped over the crook in one arm, he walked shoulder to shoulder with a curvy woman with skin the color of amaretto and a smile nearly as sweet. JD’s head dipped in her direction as her lips moved, his leather messenger bag bumping against his knee. He mouthed something in return and her lips opened wide, sending laughter skipping across the street.

  Suddenly Maxine’s last-minute decision to confront JD seemed rash, ill-conceived. She tried to blend into the wooden planks of her seat, feeling sticky and bedraggled from the day’s heat that dripped toward evening. She brushed at her limp dress and ran her tongue over the cracked remains of her lipstick. Maxine sucked in a breath and held it as she stowed her laptop in its sleeve and calculated how to get to her car without being seen.

  She risked a glance at the couple, who had stopped to converse at the corner. She adjusted a shoulder strap and quick-stepped it to the parking lot. Usually she took care to set her backpack on the passenger seat or even in a bin in the trunk, but today she opened the driver door and threw it across the seat, where it bounced onto the floor. She put a foot inside the car.

  “Maxine?”

  She gulped down her throaty cry of frustration as she released the wheel and ordered her legs to stand. Trying to surreptitiously smooth her wrinkled hemline, she managed a hoarse “Hey-y-y.”

  “What are you doing here?” JD
set down his bag and shifted his jacket to his shoulder as he moved closer.

  Maxine stepped back until her legs bumped against the car. When she couldn’t come up with a synonym for “I was looking for a puff of smoke to vanish into,” she settled for saying nothing at all.

  The vision beside JD extended French-tipped fingers. “Hi, I’m Heather.”

  Though she wanted to run and hide at the freshness of JD’s companion, Maxine reached back out of reflex, for Vivienne’s blood ran through her veins. “H-hello. I’m—”

  “Maxine, from what I hear.”

  Silence engulfed them. They shuffled their feet and glanced at each other, at the black-and-white mural of past city leaders on the brick building facing the lot, and back again.

  Finally Heather took a step backward. “Well, I guess I’ll mosey along to my car. My boys will be waiting for me. Maxine, it was great to meet you finally. Our own local celebrity! I love your column, by the way. Brings back memories of my own over-the-top wedding.” She turned to JD. “See you. Have fun tonight.”

  JD murmured, “Thanks, Heather. Later.”

  Maxine watched her crunch away on the gravel lot before she turned toward JD. “Hey! What are you laughing at?”

  “Not what. Who. And when did you start adding prepositions to the end of your sentences, Miss Grammar Queen?”

  Maxine wanted to punch him in the shoulder that had recently brushed against the mysterious Heather. “You caught me off guard, that’s all. I still don’t see what’s so funny.”

  “You know what. Jealous much?”

  “Jealous?” Maxine’s bluster was stronger than the faint waft of air lifting the damp tendrils on her nape.

  “Forget it, Maxie. Why are you here? You ran off after our cooking lesson with your grandparents, so I assumed I’d seen the last of you for a while.” JD shifted from one foot to the other. He gripped the top of the driver’s door with one hand and braced the other against the car.

  Maxine felt trapped within the triangle of space. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and parted her lips.

  JD shook his head. “Uh-uh, nope. Think again.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Whatever you thought about not telling me, think again. Tell me what’s really on your mind, not some reinvention.” He looked at the blue face of the large watch on his wrist. “I should be on my way to the Y right now, so out with it.”

  “The Y?” Maxine grasped at the slim straw he offered and released the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

  “The reading program. I listen to the beginners. It starts in about twenty minutes, and I’d hoped to change shirts and grab a bite on the way.” He glanced at his watch again. “Well, maybe not.”

  Maxine made a quick decision. “I’ll go with you, and we can talk in the car. I mean, if you don’t mind.” She looked down at her rumpled dress and listened to the weighty pause, so large and heavy it seemed to crowd the air between them. She could barely breathe. “I’m a mess, I know,” she whispered.

  “You’re a vision. As always.”

  But he didn’t linger over his huskily voiced words. Instead, he cleared his throat, retrieved his worn bag, and marched toward his car. As if he expected her to follow.

  Which she did, but not until she grabbed her cell and the small purse she’d tucked under the seat.

  JD led her to a road-hugging canary-yellow Porsche. After he started the car, he popped the trunk and stowed his things inside.

  “Whoa, Jay! In your favorite color, no less!” Maxine tried to whistle but gave up after only managing a breathy whrrrr. She caressed the hood.

  “I see you still can’t whistle,” JD laughed. He rounded the car and opened the passenger door.

  As she walked toward him, Maxine felt like she had taken a sip from an Alice in Wonderland tumbler marked “Drink Me.” She felt smaller and smaller until she was but a tiny reflection in his pupil. At last, she looked away, into the yawning darkness of the car’s interior. Then with one—final?—glance back at the parking lot, she sank into the butter-soft seat that smelled like JD’s cologne.

  Maxine closed her eyes after he slammed her door and kept them shut even when he climbed in seconds later. The Porsche reversed and surged forward. Maxine relaxed to the low, steady snarl of the car’s engine as JD rounded curves and turns. By the time the car purred to a stop, her eyelids felt weighed down. Blinking slowly, Maxine emerged from her half-dozing, half-wakeful state and smiled when she broke through to the surface.

  JD was facing her. “So much for our talk on the way, Sleeping Beauty. I hope you’re rested because once we step inside, it is on. No quiet reading time for these kids.”

  Maxine rotated her shoulders and sat straight in her seat. She looked around her admiringly. “When did you get rid of the truck? I thought it was your baby.” Immediately she wished she could retract her words.

  JD’s face softened. “I didn’t, and she still is. Blue is parked at my parents’ house because New York isn’t the best place for a vintage truck. She’s been waiting for me to come back all these years.” This time, he himself winced.

  I know what you’re thinking, Jay. How can I tell you that? Maxine dared to reach across the console, but before her fingers touched his arm, her phone buzzed. She jumped and fumbled with the zipper of her bag.

  Teddy Bear. She squashed the forbidden name as she pressed Decline and returned her iPhone to her purse. “Ready?” she asked on a breath.

  “Are you?”

  “Lead the way!” She stepped from the car. But at the door of the YMCA, the tumult of voices, bodies, and activity swelled over Maxine. She froze.

  “See? I tried to warn you. This isn’t like any reading program you’ve ever heard of, is it?” JD spoke over the melee.

  Maxine took it all in. Truly, there wasn’t much literary going on. Children ran in circles, hurled Cheetos at each other, and raised the roof with their voices. She took a step back as JD’s hand pushed her forward. She felt him press close. His breath tickled her ear.

  “I started volunteering here to get plugged into the needs of our community. To learn about them firsthand so I can figure out how Hillsong can make a difference in these kids’ lives. I don’t just want to listen to them read, teach them to sit still, or guard the holding cell until their parents pick them up.”

  Abruptly JD made a noise like he was spitting out lemon seeds. He pinched a long hair between his fingers. “You’ve changed your shampoo. Smells nice.”

  Maxine, her face warm, moved deeper into the “holding cell.”

  JD scooted around her and bumped fists with a girl with uneven pigtails. She grinned so widely her eyes closed, and he congratulated her on a missing tooth. The sea of children parted as he waded through, high-fiving some, pointing at others, calling each by name.

  Maxine trailed him, lost in his wake, marveling at his obvious popularity and sincere care of them. She looked down when she felt a soft hand squeeze hers.

  “What’s your name? Are you with Mr. Dee?”

  Mr. Dee, not Mr. Lester, JD, Jay. Who was this masked man? Maxine smiled over her confusion and bent at the waist to meet the luminous blue eyes of a little boy. “Hi. I’m Miss Owens, and I came with Mr. Dee. What’s your name?”

  “Ricky. I’m this many.” He held up six fingers.

  Maxine laughed. “Well, I’m too many to show you with my fingers. Do you like reading with Mr. Dee?”

  “Nuh-uh. But he shows me a magic trick after I read five pages. And he’ll tell me how to do my own trick when I can read ten. Bye!” Ricky didn’t wait to see if she approved of their plan before he dashed off to greet his superhero magician.

  Maxine watched Ricky plop down beside JD, who by this time had rolled up his sleeves—oh, that’s right, he wanted to change his shirt—and found a spot on the floor in a circle of more than a dozen five- and six-year-olds. Each held a book.

  JD looked around the room until his eyes settled on her,
planted where he’d left her. He shifted to his left and beckoned her over, patting the opening he’d created beside him. At least a dozen pairs of eyes followed his. Sweet, diminutive faces turned in her direction, their compact bodies shifting and squirming as JD waited for her to complete their circle.

  Maxine uprooted her feet and took a step in their direction. Buzz. Buzz. She stopped and extracted her cell from the bag strapped across her shoulder. Teddy. Again. Maxine looked at the expectant group. Buzz. Buzz. She glanced back at her phone, and after a second she pressed Accept.

  “Teddy? Hey.” Maxine shrugged at JD and backed toward the door. “No, it’s okay. I’m not busy. Not anymore.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “YES, MOTHER, I’M LEAVING NOW. No, I didn’t forget the chicken salad.”

  Actually, Maxine had done just that. She had already taken the left turn out of the neighborhood when she pictured the Cuisinart container perched on the second shelf of Vivienne’s refrigerator. Ten minutes later, she was backing out of the driveway and answering her mother’s call.

  “I should get there in about twenty minutes. I need to stop at the post office first. . . . Don’t worry; I won’t miss the start of the game.” She turned left—once again—out of the neighborhood and onto the road shaded by southern pine, oak, maple, birch, and sweet gum trees and bordered by bright wildflower beds.

  Though Maxine considered the national pastime a national naptime, she craved a distraction—any distraction, including suffering through a baseball game in the late-spring sun. She sighed as she sped past a grove of peach trees. She frowned at the inner voice that whispered, You’re failing them.

  “I can’t hear you,” Maxine responded in a singsong voice. Determined to listen to something other than that voice of condemnation on the seven-mile ride, she opened her console and rifled through the tissues, Chick-fil-A ketchup packets, notepads, and pens. “Gotcha!” She opened the plastic case and inserted the Diamonds and Pearls CD. Prince’s dulcet tones filled the car, drowning out the medley of thoughts auditioning for a starring role in her brain. By the time she idled at the second traffic light, she’d composed the intro to her latest post.