What Lacey couldn’t possibly realize, because she wasn’t much older than Connor, was that Fin and his son had never had much of a relationship unless Maxine was forcing them to interact. Fin was still too selfish to give himself unconditionally to anyone—even his own son—and Lacey didn’t know the first thing about the dynamics of a father and his child. She didn’t know herself well enough to grasp her own dynamics, let alone the sort belonging to a sixteen-year-old kid.
Len’s hard swallow was visible, her response deadly quiet. “This wasn’t the way to make everything okay, Lacey. If you were old enough, mature enough, you’d know you’re just throwing what you’ve done in everyone’s face by coming here. The only thing I’m sure you’re old enough to understand is that what you did to Maxine was wrong, and that still didn’t stop you, did it? Now go get in that uber sports car your fiancé gifted you with and don’t come back here. And I mean that. I don’t want to see you anywhere in my vicinity—ever again.”
Maxine knew how hard this had been on her friend—making the choice to stand by her instead of backing Lacey, her own flesh and blood. She hated that it had come to this. What she hated even more was the idea that she felt even a little sorry for Lacey. Yet here she was, taking in her husband’s lover with sympathetic eyes. “Len,” she said, soft with concern. “Please, don’t. It’s not necessary. I’m fine.”
Len’s smile was wry when she patted Maxine on the cheek, her bangle bracelets tinkling against her wrist. “No, honey. That’s not true. Nothing’s fine with you. None of this is fine, and some days, I just want to crawl under a rock because it was your good heart and my selfish, gold-digging sister who put you in this predicament. I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to stop saying how sorry I am. But at least one of us,” she shot a pointed look at Lacey, “really is genuinely sorry.”
Lacey caved to her sister’s intentional humiliation with a sob, taking flight in an impressive high-heeled sprint to the parking lot. The roar of her car engine and the screech of her tires resounded in the thick night.
Maxine’s stomach heaved, her legs heavy and weak. Closing her eyes, she took a ragged breath of stifling air. Len threw an arm around her, giving her shaking shoulders a squeeze of comfort. “I don’t want it to be like this, Len. You know that,” she said, weary from the night’s events.
Len pressed a kiss to the top of her friend’s head and sighed with a ragged breath. “I don’t want it to be like this either. But it is what it is. I just can’t abide a liar and a cheat, especially when it’s my own sister. No one was ever going to set Lacey straight about the damage she’s caused if I didn’t. You know what my folks have been like about this. You already know the score. What I said to her tonight’s nothing new.”
Maxine nodded, squeezing her eyes shut to ward off tears. “I know. I guess hearing it secondhand up to this point just didn’t have the kind of impact as seeing you spit fire in person does. You were really hard on her, Len.”
“Someone has to be, Maxine. This time she didn’t just rack up a huge credit card bill or scratch the car my parents borrowed from Dad’s 401K to pay for. She ruined a family.”
Maxine shook her head, sad with a realization prompted by her friend’s words. “You know, about that family thing. She couldn’t ruin something that never was. We were only a family in my mind, Len. Mine only. How often was Fin really around unless I’d pressured him to be there?”
“Doesn’t change the mess you’re in now. Lacey helped with that. We’ve been best friends for fifteen years. You stuck by me after Gerald’s death and never batted a false eyelash when our group of quote-unquote friends snubbed me. Now I’m just returning the favor. Oh, and as an FYI: Not a chance in hell I’m sitting across the dinner table at Christmas from that smarmy pig stuffing turkey between his lying lips.”
There was just no budging her firm stance. In tired defeat, Maxine laid her head on her friend’s shoulder, inhaling the comforting scent of her perfume. The tears she’d hoped to thwart dripped from her eyes, falling to her feet in big, salty drops. “I think I never want to do this again.”
“Play bingo?”
“Leave the house.”
“But if you don’t leave the house, you can’t go out with the luscious Campbell Barker. Niiiice coup, my friend.”
Maxine pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. “Um, I think you made the coup.”
“Me?”
Maxine measured her words, fighting to keep any hint of green out of her tone. “Yeah,” she offered casually in a no-big-deal kinda way while she stared at her sneakers. “You guys were yucking it up in there. Seemed like you were having a pretty good time.” With all those hot dogs and all that giggling over those hot dogs . . .
“All he talked about was you, Maxine.”
Her head shot up. “Reeeeaaaallly?” She paused. “Wait. Jesus. That sounded all girlie and high school, didn’t it?”
“It did.” Len grinned her confirmation with a wink.
Bleh. “Forget I said that. Forget he talked to you about me. Just forget it all.”
“Why would I forget it? It’s the most animated and interested I’ve seen you in forever.”
Maxine slapped her hands on her thighs in disgust. “That’s the whole problem, Len. I shouldn’t be animated or interested just because of a man. I should be animated about me. I should be interested in me. It should all be about me at this point in my fucked-up-ness. Me and Connor. I should perk up over me-stuff, not man-stuff. I think it’s obvious from the way I look, I’m not so animated about me.” And she couldn’t summon up enough disgust for herself to change that. “I spent way too much of my life catering to someone else’s idea of who I should be. Never again.”
Len’s hand reached out for Maxine’s. When she took it, her friend squeezed it affectionately. “Honey, I’m going to say something that might piss you off, but you know me. I’m not afraid to tell you when I think you’re being a dipshit.”
She showed her affront by way of a snort. “I’m being a dipshit?”
“Red-alert-level dipshit. You can be empowered without being a Nazi about it.”
Okay, so maybe empowerment should be utilized in small doses. “Are you saying you think I’m pushing my limits of self-discovery to an all new and dramatic height?” She batted her eyes at her friend and giggled.
Len patted her hand. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re answering a question with a question.”
“That’s because I know you have the answer.”
Oh, she had answers. She just had to make sure they were lifestyle changes instead of just empty words. “It’s okay for me to like a man without thinking I’m going to lose myself entirely. Happy?”
“I’m happier . . .” Emphasis on the “er.”
Maxine swallowed, letting another one of her fears loose into the universe. “I’m afraid. I’m afraid I’ll fall into the same old traps I fell into with Fin. I’m scared witless if I ever become involved again my whole world will end up revolving around pleasing someone else before I find out what pleases me. So just finding someone even a little attractive has my guard up.” There, have some more dark, deeply rooted paranoia to muck through.
“I get it. Knowing you don’t want to do that again is sort of half the battle, right?”
“I didn’t ever want to do it to begin with, Len. I just did.”
“But you were like twelve when you got married. Your idea of what a relationship should be was formed while watching As the World Turns and Punky Brewster. It wasn’t by trial and error or life experience. Fin was your only experience. You were immature and goo-goo-eyed, but you’re not twelve anymore, honey.”
If there was one thing she was going to remain firm on, it was not losing herself to an intimate relationship before she had a relationship with herself. “I need to find out who I am alone. If I can be independent, stand on my own two feet—and that has to happen before I consider anything else.”
They sat side by side in silen
ce for a moment. The warm breeze sifting between them while Maxine pondered her last statement. Couldn’t she do both? The real question was, could she keep herself in check enough to make sure her lines didn’t blur while she did both? “Campbell makes my knees a little weak. I thought at first it was just osteoporosis, but I’ve come to the conclusion he’s just nummy.”
Len’s eyebrow rose. “He’s definitely weak-knee worthy.”
Just admitting that had her stomach doing a Highland fling. “I can’t believe I said that out loud.”
Len’s throaty laugh filled the air. “It’s okay to enjoy the fact that a man finds you attractive without feeling like you’ve been rendered powerless, Wonder Girl.”
Maxine scoffed, frowning and ready to offer up one of her ultimate fears in her defense. “Says you. Do you remember how obsessed I was with making Fin fall back in love with me again after his first affair? Do you remember the Dr. Phil books I read obsessively? Better yet, do you remember the extremes I went to? I had a boob job, for Christ’s sake. I gave up so much of myself just to cater to him. I’m never giving up that much of myself again to a man, Len.” Not without a fight.
Len’s face softened. “Not every man is Fin. I thank Jesus and all twelve for that revelation every night. I’m grateful I know enough to know there’re still good men to be had. But answer me this. Do you really think if you become involved with someone someday, you’ll curl up and die in some dank, dirty corner if he lets his dick do his thinking for him again?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Point made.” Len smiled.
“I don’t get it.”
Len’s lips thinned in disgust. “Do you remember Fin’s first affair? Do you remember telling me you didn’t know who you were if you weren’t his wife? Do you remember telling me you just wanted to curl up and die if you had to live without him, despite the fact that he’d been unfaithful?”
God. Yes. She remembered. It had been the darkest, loneliest, most pitiful admission she’d ever made. She wasn’t ever going back to that black void of empty fear. Ever. “I remember. Those were some dark moments, huh?”
She massaged the back of Maxine’s hand with soothing fingers. “The darkest, and through the entire thing I kept thinking, ‘Why the hell doesn’t she get mad? Why doesn’t she insist he go to counseling with her to help her deal with the kind of insecurity and pain an affair creates in a marriage? And if Fin refuses, just like he did, why doesn’t Maxine just leave his ass flat? Why is his infidelity only her burden to bear when she didn’t do anything wrong? And why, why, why does she think just because Fin owned up to it he deserves some kind of Medal of Honor for bravery in the line of marriage?’ It made me want to throttle you, my friend. Instead of dealing with that head-on, you stuffed all of those emotions way deep down and set about making everything perfect for Fin. The last person on Earth who deserved that kind of treatment. If anyone should’ve been making nice, it was him.”
Hearing Len’s thoughts about her archaic behavior from that time in her life made Maxine cringe with a shudder. That she couldn’t see then how Fin had manipulated his admission of infidelity into doing her some kind of favor because he’d confessed it made her want to claw his eyes out now.
As ashamed as Maxine was to admit it, there’d been many long hours to fill while Fin was off at work or some business dinner when she’d wished he’d never told her in the first place. Who did it really benefit when you confessed an affair? It relieved the guilty party, but it brought a wealth of residual pain for the one who’d been deceived. “My self-esteem was at an all-time low.”
“Ya think, Maxine?”
Oh, yes. She thought. “I admit my views on relationships were skewed.”
“The skewedest I’ve personally ever borne witness to,” Len joked.
“I’ve been thinking . . .”
“You want a drum roll?”
Maxine smiled. Hearing Len point out some of her old habits made the desire to create healthier habits more clear. “I know what I don’t want in a relationship—if, and that’s a big if, I ever set sail on the relationship boat of love again, I have a list.”
“I love self-revelation. It’s all deep and shiny. So share,” Len encouraged with a smile and a nudge.
“I don’t want to feel like my entire world’s coming to an end because a man doesn’t love me or want me or decides he wants to trade in his older model Lamborghini for a newer Ferrari. I want to fill my life, Connor’s life, with more self-worth than that.”
“Know what I think, Maxine Cambridge?”
Maxine chuckled. “I’m all atwitter with anticipation, friend.”
“Just your admission that you’re afraid of giving up too much of who you’re becoming to be in a relationship that isn’t exactly what you want is a clear sign you’ll be on the lookout for the red flags.”
A lost piece of the Maxine puzzle resurfaced and clicked into place. She wanted a life full and rich with the things she loved, so if she ended up sans man forever, she’d still have a soft place to fall.
“Look at me all growing. Though I’m not ashamed to say I would have rather grown with a checking-account balance,” Maxine joked, meeting her friend’s gaze.
“You are, and thank God. You’re not defining yourself by the attention and praise of a man anymore. I swear to you, honey, you really can be in love and not have to give up everything you enjoy to do it. You define you, Maxine. No one else can or ever will again. So don’t go overboard with the ‘I’ll never touch a man with a ten-foot pole again’ where Campbell’s concerned. Sharing your life with someone can be a wonderful thing if you remember the key word is sharing.”
“Who’s going overboard here? Campbell and I aren’t even remotely involved. We aren’t anything.” Though maybe being “something” wasn’t nearly as offensive as she’d once thought it would be. Not now that she’d shared what hindsight had taught her about her marriage.
“Which means I’m one step ahead of you in the ‘don’t be a dried-up man-hating shrew for the rest of your life because one man sucked the very soul from you for all of your wasted youth’ speech. Enjoy Campbell’s interest for what it is. If nothing comes of it, then nothing comes of it. Just breathe.”
Maxine’s laughter was carefree. For the first time tonight, her lungs felt less like big ten-pound weights in her chest. If only her bruised nose would follow suit. “So . . .”
“So?”
“He asked about me?” She toyed with the zipper on the front of her sweat suit with clammy fingers.
Her friend’s eyebrow cocked, her response mockingly solemn. “Oh, he asked.”
Maxine shot for an air of indifference when she said, “So tell me what he asked.”
“Nope,” Len said with a chuckle, putting her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “He can tell you himself. The only thing I will tell you is he’s had the BFF warning. He knows I’ll saw off his love sacs if he even considers jerking you around.”
“How thoughtful of you,” Maxine teased, rising to pull Len up with her. “You won’t reconsider telling me just a little bit?”
“Nuh-uh. I’ve interfered enough. Though, if I were you, I’d maybe consider giving him some kudos for liking the real Maxine.”
“Meaning?”
Len’s look was critical when she waved her hand up and down the length of her friend. “Honey, you look horrible, and still the man thinks you’re a slice of awesome. Think of it this way. If the two of you ever get to the wonking stage of the game, morning breath and smeared mascara won’t make him want to chew his arm off.”
Maxine threw her head back and laughed. “He’s a brave warrior.”
“He’s a nice one, too. I liked him. And he’s pretty brick shithouse to boot.”
Yeaahhh. So much brick shithouse Maxine had to fight to take in more air every time she saw him. “I’m not even technically divorced yet. I think it’s a little premature to date anyway.”
“That stopped Fin
? Or have you forgotten he’s engaged?”
“Doesn’t make it right, Len,” she murmured. Right sucked. But there was Connor and setting examples to consider.
“Nothing about what Fin’s done is right. You don’t love him anymore. The married point is moot. The real point is you’re in the middle of divorce proceedings. They’re just taking an ungodly amount of time to get through. You know you want a divorce. You just don’t have one yet. But you will, and in the meantime, it’s hurting no one if you date as long as you’re honest about where your divorce is at.”
Which was nowhere, though she wasn’t about to share that with Len. She’d only tell her she needed to find a new, better lawyer with the invisible cash she was supposed to summon. “I have to be asked on a date first,” she hinted, fighting the flutter of her heart against her rib cage at such a notion. A date. She hadn’t been on a date since senior prom.
Len’s stare was purposefully blank. “Yep.”
Maxine nudged her shoulder. “Oh, c’mon. Just a little hint about what he said.”
“Not a chance.” She yanked the rec center door open. “Go on, Mistress of All Things Bingo. Finish up in there. You up for the diner afterward? Or do you want to go home and put some more ice on that nose? Your mother told me what happened. Tough crowd, the over-fifty-five set, eh?”
The events of the long evening settled between her shoulders in the way of a sharp ache. “Do you mind if I take a rain check? If I keep scooping enough poop, it might be my treat,” she enticed.
“Deal. But promise me something?”
“Anything.”
“Don’t wear that color ever again, and pluck your eyebrows. They look like hamsters. Love yourself, sweetie. With a pair of tweezers or a jar of hot wax.”
Maxine giggled when she flipped her friend the bird, heading back into the rec center, feeling considerably lighter than she had just three hours ago.
“Miss Wiiiiigggllles, c’mon. Make potties for Auntie Maxine,” she coaxed the small, fuzzy Pomeranian who stared blankly up at her like she was making demands in a foreign language.
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