The Gamble

by Kristen Ashley

  “Nellie, darlin’, this place is open plan. Max can hear you,” Steve informed her.

  “So? We’re all family now. He’ll have to get used to me,” Mom decreed madly and marched toward the kitchen. “I’ll make coffee, rustle up breakfast. Neenee Bean, you go wash your face and moisturize.”

  I was still swaying from the force of Mom’s “we’re all family now” statement so my protesting words were weak. “Mom, I’ll get coffee and maybe we should meet in town for breakfast or something and you can tell me then what you’re doing here.”

  “Oh, tosh!” Mom was in the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards. “That’ll take too long, we’ll have breakfast here,” she declared then went on. “I’ll make pancakes. No! My famous scrambled eggs. Max strikes me as an egg man.”

  I decided speaking was giving my mother fodder to embarrass me further so I grinned at Steve, ducked under his arm and rushed to the stairs, saying, “I’ll be back down in a second.”

  I hit the loft as Max came out of the bathroom wearing a dark blue Henley thermal and jeans and I stopped dead.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered loudly.

  Max got close and tilted his head down to me. “Yeah? Why?”

  “My mother’s… she’s… well, my mother.” I was still whispering.

  “Heard the knock, honey, expected to see your Dad at the door. Damn better sight seein’ your Mom smilin’ and wavin’ and jumpin’ up and down.”

  I closed my eyes as the vision of Mom doing that, and she would do it, filled my head.

  I felt Max’s hands on my neck and he called, “Duchess.”

  I opened my eyes and repeated, “Sorry.”

  He used my neck to pull me closer. “Only thing you got to be sorry for is passin’ out on me last night. Though, baby,” I watched up close as his eyes got warm, “you passin’ out naked but leavin’ on those fuckin’ sexy shoes and now wearin’ my shirt makes up for it.”

  “What?” I was lost in his eyes. I couldn’t process words especially since his words were mostly scary.

  “Not all of it, but it helps.”

  “What?” I repeated, still coping with the shocks of my morning and, of course, Max’s warm eyes.

  He got even closer and whispered, “Gonna fuck you in that shirt too.”

  I processed that.

  “And those shoes,” he went on as if deep in his thoughts, “though, not at the same time.”

  My knees buckled and my hands shot up to grab Max’s waist in order to stay standing. I found if I hooked my thumbs in his belt loops at the sides this worked really well and I realized why he’d used that on me though, obviously, his was different.

  “You got any sisters?” Max asked for some reason and I shook my head. “Brothers other than Charlie?” he went on and I kept shaking my head. “Cousins?”

  “Some of those,” I whispered.

  He grinned. “So is that who we can expect tomorrow?”

  My cousins were as nutty as my mother and if she made calls to my aunts, who were also loons, this could be a possibility. Therefore instead of answering, I fell forward and pressed my face into his Henley.

  “See I got mostly Nina Zombie,” Max said, his lips at my hair. “Get yourself sorted out, darlin’. I’ll go down and see that your mother doesn’t move into the barn.”

  My head shot back and I whispered, “Oh God, Max, don’t tell her you have a barn. Seriously, she’ll consider it. She’ll have contractors here tomorrow to talk about a conversion.”

  He was still grinning when he kissed me, pulled away and stated, “My lips are sealed.”

  Then he let me go and walked to the stairs.

  I ran to the bathroom and rushed through my morning ritual and didn’t bother dressing because I didn’t want to leave Max alone with my mother that long. And anyway, Max’s shirt provided far more coverage than my nightie or even one of his t-shirts and it was Mom and Steve. Mom and Steve lived in Arizona now so Steve had been seeing me in pajamas and bathing suits ever since he was promoted to “companion” status.

  I ran down the stairs, rolling the sleeves up and heard Mom banging away and talking at the same time.

  “…then she got in a debate, with the quizmaster, on television and took him to task for his superior, sexist attitude.”

  Oh my God. Mom was sharing the Dreaded High School Brain Team Story.

  “Mom,” I cut in.

  “Quiet, sweetie, I’m telling Max the Brain Team Story.”

  I hit the kitchen seeing Max was at his usual place against the sink, Steve was at a stool and Mom was at the counter surrounded by what looked like everything in Max’s cupboards.

  I had no time to ask about Mom’s apparent surprise kitchen inventory, I had to stop the Brain Team Story.

  “I know, Mom, and I wish you wouldn’t.”

  She stopped and looked at me with raised brows. “I’ll never know why you’re embarrassed by that story.”

  “How many reasons do you want?” I asked.

  “Three!” Mom shot back.

  I lifted my hand and counted them down. “One, I did it on local television and everyone saw. Two, I was kicked off the Brain Team and suspended from school. And three, I was on the Brain Team at all.”

  “Men like smart girls,” she retorted.

  “Yes, that’s what you told me when I didn’t have a date to the senior prom.”

  She leaned forward and returned, “You didn’t have a date to the senior prom because that silly Flannery boy broke up with you for that terrible Sipowicz girl.” Mom turned to Max and added, “She had too much hair, always flouncing it around, and she was loose.”

  Mom spoke the truth. Perry Sipowicz had a lot of hair she was always flouncing around and she definitely was loose.

  “Anyway,” Mom turned back to the counter and started moving stuff around what appeared to be randomly, “I was proud of my Neenee Bean for sticking up to that awful television person. He thought he was God’s gift and everyone could see he was wearing a hairpiece. And he was being sexist. He wouldn’t let Nina answer any of the questions and she was the only girl on either school’s team. So I was glad she told him off.” She turned back to Max and finished, “It was then I knew she’d make a brilliant attorney. She got into every school she applied to.”

  “Mom,” I said, moving toward the coffeepot, “enough.”

  “You did,” Mom muttered, looked at Max and repeated, “She did.”

  I looked at Max and rolled my eyes. Max smiled.

  I asked the room, “Who wants coffee?”

  “Me!” Mom cried as if I wasn’t standing right next to her which I was.

  I looked over my shoulder at Steve, pulling down mugs from the cupboard. “Steve?”

  “A cup would hit the spot, Nina.”

  I looked at Max as I went to the fridge for milk. “Max?”

  “Yeah, baby.”

  Mom leaned into me when I made it back to the counter by her side and she whispered loudly even though if she whispered softly Max could still hear her as he was maybe two feet away. “I like that, the ‘baby’ thing. He’s yummy.”

  “Stop calling Max yummy in front of Steve.”

  “Oh, Steve doesn’t mind,” Mom dismissed with a wave of her hand.

  “Okay, then stop calling Max yummy in front of Max.”

  Mom leaned back to look behind me at Max and informed him, “Nina can be a bit uptight.”

  Max burst out laughing.

  I cried, “Mother!”

  Mom turned wide eyes to me. “You can!”

  I looked to the ceiling and called, “God? Can I have a time machine? Please. I just want to go back thirty-five years, crawl out of my pram, get lost in the wilds and be raised by stray dogs.”

  Mom leaned back and said to Max, “She can also be dramatic.” She turned back to whatever she was doing at the counter and murmured, “Though, it’s good, she’s always had an excellent imagination.”

  I handed Max his mug and took
Steve’s coffee to him, saying, “Mom, Max likes me, okay? You don’t have to convince him seeing as I’m standing in his kitchen in his shirt.”

  “All right,” Mom snapped and looked back at Max. “She can get testy too.”

  I closed my eyes and dropped my head back. I stood there in supplication for half a second before an arm hooked at my waist and my back was up against Max’s front.

  “Grab your coffee, Duchess and let your Mom be,” Max ordered in my ear.

  I leaned forward and grabbed my coffee, muttering, “Whatever.” Then I looked at Mom and found I couldn’t let her be so I asked, “What are you doing, anyway?”

  “I’m in the mood to concoct something,” Mom answered and my entire body got tense.

  “Mom –” I started and Steve was with me for he said in a low, warning tone, “Nellie, not sure that’s a good idea.”

  “My concoctions are the best,” Mom declared in Steve’s direction.

  “Your concoctions are hit and miss. Mostly miss,” I told her.

  Mom whirled on me, aghast. “You loved my blueberry, rhubarb soufflé.”

  “Mom, I lied. It tasted a lot like vomit.”

  Max’s body started shaking against mine but I was forced to ignore it when Mom emitted an outraged gasp.

  “It did not taste like vomit!”

  “Please, just let me make toast.”

  Mom, if it could be believed, was even more aghast and she cried, “What will Max think, he gets toast?”

  “It’s his house, Mom, you’re the guest,” I reminded her.

  “I’m the Mom in any circumstances and children don’t get toast. Ever.”

  “She’s got you there, Duchess,” Max whispered.

  I twisted and looked up at Max. “You’re not a child, Max.”

  “As long’s we’re alive, you’re always children, doll,” Steve put in and I looked at Steve and my shoulders slumped.

  But I didn’t give in gracefully and therefore mumbled, “Ganged up on.”

  “Deal with it, sweetie,” Mom muttered, turned to the plethora of foodstuffs on the counter and went on, hands up, wiggling her fingers, “Now, I’m thinking… something strawberry.”

  I decided to take a sip of coffee and let events unfold without my participation.

  It was then I realized I was leaning against Max and he still had his arm around my waist. It wasn’t weird or uncomfortable. In fact it felt natural and entirely comfortable. It was also then I realized I liked this.

  “Oh my God!” Mom suddenly shouted, I jumped and looked at her to see she was holding up the new creamer I bought Max. “This is divine, Max. You have such good taste.”

  “Nina bought that for me,” Max informed her and Mom’s eyes got happy wide, her face beaming and she looked at Steve.

  “You hear that, Steve, darling? Nina bought Max a creamer.” And Mom said this like she would say, “You hear that, Steve darling? Nina just declared her undying love to Max and they’re going to be surgically attached at the hip tomorrow.”

  “I heard it, love,” Steve said, grinning at Mom’s obvious happiness for it was doubtful Steve was thrilled about the creamer.

  “Lovely,” Mom muttered and put down the creamer and then started opening and closing cupboards, still muttering when she said, “Now, bowls.”

  “Max,” Steve called, I looked to him and I suspected Max did too for Steve kept talking. “I hate to cut into the usual madcap Nellie-Nina reunion but we gotta talk about that jackass Lawrence.”

  There it was, the reason for their visit, just as I would have guessed if I’d had time to make a guess.

  Mom was dumping stuff into a bowl but she leaned into me and stated, “Steve has a plan. Steve always has a plan.” Then she winked at me and went back to dumping stuff in the bowl.

  “What’re you thinkin’?” Max asked.

  “I’m thinkin’ after breakfast we leave the women up here and go down the mountain and have a talk with Lawrence at his hotel.”

  My body got tense again.

  “Works for me,” Max said instantly.

  “Um… I don’t –” I started but stopped when Max squeezed my waist.

  “We’ll be back, less than an hour,” Max told me and I twisted to look at him.

  “Max –”

  “Duchess,” Max cut me off, “it’s as good as done.”

  I hadn’t had time to contemplate my predicament, my escape or scrutinize the fact that I consistently seemed to allow myself to get thwarted and end each day in bed with Max. However I was relatively certain that I didn’t want Max to team up with Steve to send my father packing. I didn’t know why, I just thought that was family business and Max wasn’t family. And I didn’t know why, but I thought if he did do this, he’d be that one step closer to being family. What I did know was that I wanted him to be family and I also knew I shouldn’t.

  “Max, can we talk about this?” I asked.

  “We can though you ain’t gonna change my mind.”

  “Max –”

  He used his hand at my waist to turn me to face him then his arm went back around my waist and pulled me close.

  “Let me explain somethin’, Nina. He’s in town and he’s thinkin’ about fuckin’ with you. You said your piece yesterday, made your point clear and he still thinks he can fuck with you. A man’s any man at all, no one fucks with his woman, not even her father. He thinks he can, until I make it clear he can’t, he’ll always think he can. So better now than later he learns he can’t. Yeah?”

  “Max, I just don’t think it should be you. Maybe I –” I stopped talking when I got another squeeze.

  “Honey, he showed you zero respect yesterday and he upset you. You think I’m gonna let that happen again?”

  “Max –”

  “I’m not.”

  “Max –”

  “He won’t have a choice but to show me respect.”

  “Max –”

  “Especially if I got your family at my back.”

  “Max!” I shouted.

  “What?”

  “All right, go see Dad.”

  There it was. I gave in again. I had no idea why I constantly did this except perhaps the soft look and beautiful smile Max was giving me now.

  To avoid it and its effect on my entire system, I turned within Max’s arm and leaned against him again.

  “Steve, when we get back, could use your help hangin’ the Cotton,” Max said to Steve and I closed my eyes.

  Steve was always busy, always doing something, always had a project. He’d love helping Max hang the Cotton.

  “Sure thing, Max,” Steve said amiably, I heard Mom sniff and looked at her but she had her head ducked.

  Then she whispered, “Powder my nose.”

  Then she rushed away as Max called gently, “Door to the right, under the loft.”

  I sighed because I knew Mom was crying and I had a suspicion Mom had a lot more reasons to like Max now.

  I looked at Steve and Steve was watching me. His eyes dropped to Max’s arm at my waist then they came back to my face. His smile was slow and so was his wink.

  I smiled back even though panic gripped me.

  If I was honest, I knew why I didn’t escape, even though I knew I was facing disaster.

  Because I didn’t want to escape.

  Now, Mom and Steve might disown me if I tried.

  I sighed, leaned further into Max and his arm got tight.

  I took a sip of coffee while the men stayed comfortably silent.

  Then I asked, “Do you think we have time to sneak in some toast before she gets back?”

  My timing was bad and Max’s excellent construction foiled me for Mom had opened the door and its noiseless hinges were my undoing.

  “I heard that,” Mom snapped, rounding the counter.

  “No,” Max answered my question and Steve laughed.

  I sighed again and took another sip of coffee.

  “Not to be rude or anything, Max,” Mom started
when she hit the counter, “I adore the Cottons but I must say that piece of art you have out front is… um… how do I put it?” She paused then finished in a tone that belied her word, “interesting.”

  My eyes went outside and I saw my vandalized rental car.

  Then more than likely from stress, mild hysteria and just Mom being Mom, I burst out laughing.

  * * * * *

  Max’s phone rang after I walked out of Max’s bathroom, dressed, made up, hair done and ready to face the day.

  Max and Steve left to talk to Dad after “breakfast” which tasted mostly of strawberries, thank God, but the rest of it didn’t bear thinking about. Mom said she’d clean the kitchen so I could get a shower. I left her to it and now was done and Max’s phone was ringing.

  I had no idea what to do, whether Max would want me to answer and take a message or if maybe it was Max, calling me to tell me he was in jail because my father was a big jerk and pushed him to lose control and Mom and I had to come down and post bail for him and Steve.

  As I was making up my mind, the answering machine, which was at the roll top but could be heard throughout the house, switched on. I heard Max’s voice order, “Leave a message,” there was a beep and Bitsy’s voice could be heard.

  “Max? It’s Bitsy, listen, I was hoping you’d be home. You aren’t answering your cell. I wanted to talk to Nina, could you ask her to…”

  I ran to Max’s nightstand and picked up the cordless, hitting the on button and I heard the noise of the answering machine beeping off.

  “Bitsy?” I said into the phone.

  “Oh, Nina. Hi.”

  “Hi, sorry, I just got out of the shower.”

  “That’s okay.” She was silent for a moment then she asked, “Is Max there?”

  “No, do you want me to have him call you?”

  “No, uh…” she paused then said, “really, I wanted to talk to you.”

  I wasn’t sure how to react to this so I gave myself a second and walked to the railing. I looked out and saw Mom sitting outside on the front steps, her legs stretched out in front of her crossed at the ankles, her hands back behind her, body resting on her hands face tipped to the sun. It must be another warm day and the snow was fast disappearing.

  Then I said, “Sure, Bitsy, what can I do for you?”