by KT Morrison
Max leaned back as well. They both looked across the table at each other, silent and unmoving, steam rising from their coffee the only action. His heart raced. Talking about Maggie like this got his blood pounding. Hearing her spoken about in such low parameters had his fingertips tingling. Anger sizzled through his extremities, and though Cole was his best friend, he narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw.
A smirk slowly, hesitatingly, pulled one side of Cole’s mouth, and his eyes gleamed. “This got weird, huh?”
Max unbuttoned the toggles of his coat, opened it. “I think it got weird a long time ago,” he said, sitting straight and shrugging his arms out.
Cole said, “Maggie is one amazing human being.”
“I know. I’m very lucky,” Max said, whitening his coffee from a stainless steel creamer.
Cole sat forward, hand held out, paused, waiting for the creamer when he was done. Max passed it, added sugar from a torn packet.
Max sipped his coffee, watching Cole. Asking his friend to back off would backfire. Maggie wanted him. If Max were to forbid it, her lust for their friend wouldn’t cease. Resentment would set in. Not unbearable, probably survivable. Better to prune and cultivate her three-way relationship, make it take the shape he wanted. When the time was right, he would salt the soil.
“Thanks for taking me to the airport.”
“Any time, Max. Everything okay at home?”
“Yeah. They missed me on the break, and we’ve got ... family things to discuss ... so ...”
“Serious?”
“God, no. Wedding, finances, this thing with my sister,” he rolled his eyes, indicating there was some drama not worth going into, though there was none at all. “What are you doing this weekend?”
“Drilling Maggie. LSATs. She wants help studying.”
“That’s good.”
“Hey, Max?” Cole leaned to look in his eyes. “I swear that was not my idea.”
“She told me.”
“I never even mentioned it. I thought she wanted to be an artist, or whatever. Do something creative.”
“Me too.”
“Like mother, like daughter,” Cole said.
“God, I hope not.”
“You kidding? Carol’s a beast.”
Max laughed. “A beast?”
“Dude. You ever read up on her? She’s a legal legend. I mean, if you’re into corporate law. And I guarantee you she drains Martin’s python on the reg. Probably more than he wants.”
“Gross.”
“I bet that mansion’s got a room underground like the Bat Cave, full of whips and chains, harnesses, ball gags ...”
Max said, “Strap-ons?”
Cole collapsed in laughter in the booth, eyes closed, clapped his hands. “Right?”
“But Maggie is so sweet.”
“Fuck, she is,” Cole agreed.
“She couldn’t gut some company, or put people out of work.”
Cole shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose not.”
“She’s not Carol.”
Their food arrived, the waitress putting a hot plate of food in front of each of them, then folding her hands at her apron, saying, “Can I get you more coffee?”
Cole nodded. The girl beamed, liking being at their table, and the initial shock of interacting with a guy as handsome as Cole calming.
“Right up,” she said.
Cole said to Max, “It’s a good decision though.”
“Law? I agree. It just came out of nowhere ...”
“She never mentioned it before?”
“Never.”
The waitress returned and poured their coffee. “Got enough syrup?” she asked.
Max said they did and thanked her, and she returned to the kitchen where he’d caught her peeking at them before, implicating another bright-eyed waitress at her side.
Max said, “I don’t know what’s got into her.”
Cole grunted, forking pancakes in his mouth. They both knew what got into her. It lay between Cole’s legs. Jay’s legs, too. Their cocks had stirred up his fiancée’s hormones and shaken her cart off the track. They were changing her.
“Maybe it’s for the better,” Cole said, once his mouth was clear.
“I don’t know. Maggie can be whatever she wants. I’ll be there for her.”
“Me, too,” Cole said. That stabbed him again. Closer to the heart than when they spoke of her cock-sucking skills. Less enjoyable.
They ate their breakfast under the fawning attention of the waitress. They had more coffee and talked about school. Cole talked about lacrosse and asked if Maggie and he would come to the game in Farmingham next week. He said they would. Mostly they made snide comments about people they didn’t like, trying to make each other laugh. When they’d exhausted the roster they began to pick on the Denny’s patrons, making up histories for each of them. Stories of long haul trucking and bestiality and meth addiction.
Max said, “And that waitress ...?”
Cole said, “She’s cute if she lost a few. Like forty. Nice face.”
“Wonder what her oral skills are like.”
“I bet they’re solid.”
“I think she wants to try.”
“Go for it.”
Max said, “I meant with you.”
Cole smirked and rolled his eyes. “I’m seeing somebody,” he said, pivoted and signaled for the check.
Cole bought breakfast and left the waitress a ten dollar tip. They drove to the airport and Cole pulled up at the entrance as the sun ascended, turning the sky blue to the west but obscured by tumultuous clouds to the east.
Max got out of the Jeep and stood under the glass canopy, the nighttime lights still buzzing and casting everything in a pale apricot glow. Cole got out as well and came around the other side to stand on the walkway.
Max said, “You don’t need to come in, man. I got it.”
“Right, right. Bring it in,” he said and opened his arms, encouraging Max to hug. He clapped him on the back while they embraced, said, “Say Hi to your folks. Take care. I’ll pick you up on Monday.”
“I told you, don’t skip class. I can take the bus.”
He picked up his bag and threw the strap over a shoulder and Cole pat his arm. Max said, “Take care of Maggie.”
“I will.”
They looked at each other smiling warmly but an awkward slant to the moment. Maybe Cole felt uncomfortable about what that might mean, or that it might not mean what he wanted it to mean. And Max felt a delightful pang of jealousy. He’d decided not to get in their way. Maggie could have her fun and Max would enjoy from the sidelines. When the relationship ended it wouldn’t be Max’s decision. Not if he knew what he was doing.
“Bye, buddy,” he said, nodding and walking backwards. He looked to the east, and as the automatic doors wiped open behind him he said, “Be careful, looks like you’re heading back into a storm.”
2
Storm
Saturday, October 21st
Cole lay his head on two bunched pillows at the foot of her bed. Legs crossed, feet bare, he held in one hand a glossy paper-bound study guide that said LSAT in purple capital letters. The spine dug into his stomach just above the button of his shorts, the hood of his sweatshirt cowled around his messy blonde hair.
He said, “There’s seven piano students—Tammy, Uli, Vic, Winslow, Xavier, Yannick, and Zoe.”
She said, “Okay.”
“T, U, V, W, X, Y, and Z.”
“I know. I got it.”
“Okay. So the instructor is deciding the order in which they’ll play at an important recital.”
“Uh-huh.”
“They all will play one solo, but of course, each student has restrictions.”
“Typical,” she scoffed. “Fucking pianists.”
His eyes peered at her over the top of the study guide. “Fucking penis?”
“Pi-a-nists,” she giggled and grabbed his big toe. She lay with her head on her pillows, legs also bare
, and she wiggled her feet to the side to bat his thigh.
Thunder rumbled outside and a gust of wind sent rain splashing against the windows of her dorm room. Both their heads turned to the grey-green wash outside and watched until the wind settled and the room grew quieter.
Cole continued. “Pi-a-nist. Makes more sense. Okay, Maggie: X can’t play first or second, W can’t play until X has played, Z has to play seventh, T has to play after Y, and W has to play right after X.”
“Whatever.”
“Now, the question is: if U plays third, what is the latest position in which Y can play?”
While her eyes darted back and forth over the ceiling, her hand still clutching Cole’s foot, her mind put the letters in some semblance. She sorted the possibilities.
“Uh. Sss-six. Yeah, sixth.”
He let the study guide drop over his crotch and scowled at her. “You don’t even write these down.”
“Some of them I would have to. Was that an easy one?”
“Intermediate,” he mumbled.
“Give me another one.”
“What’s the point? You even need to study?”
“Of course I do. You don’t want to help me anymore?”
“I do. I do. You’re seriously impressive. We’ve got all day and I’ll give you any help you want,” he said, bringing the book back up.
“You want to take a break?”
His eyes went up as he thought. He said, “You want to go grab some lunch? Let me buy us a pitcher and a pizza ...”
Rain lashed at the windows again and they both looked to see the sky blurred amid rain driven sideways against the dorm. “I’m not going out in that.”
“You don’t have an umbrella?”
She laughed at the thought of the two of them trying to huddle under a small Burberry umbrella while the rain came in sideways under it. “Can we order in?”
Cole nodded. “No one delivers beer.”
“Mm, it’s too wet out. Altieri’s for dinner?”
He smiled and nodded, said, “Skip lunch? Work up an appetite?”
She regarded him with a plain expression, a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth but she tugged back. “I told you Max wants me to be good while he’s gone.”
The LSAT book dropped flat again over his crotch, and he said, “I know. I meant a study appetite.”
“Okay, okay,” she cooed. She brought a foot up and lay it on his thigh, rubbed it up and down.
His hand lay on it, warm and welcome. He stroked her from her toes up past her ankle. He said, “Though with Max, I mean, like, what’s ‘good,’ right?”
She gave a breathy chuckle, watched his hand on her ankle.
His eyes watching where he touched her, he said, “You and Max ever talk about having some babies?”
She nodded, said, “You come visit and bounce them on your knee?”
“Can you picture that?”
“Yeah.”
“Then what?”
She shrugged her shoulders into the pillows she lay on, said, “Then what, what?”
“Then Max takes Max Jr. and little Maxine out for ice cream so Cole and mommy can fuck?”
She laughed out loud, a bright guffaw to the ceiling that took her by surprise. She slapped a hand over her mouth, then said, “Hoo, wow. Think so?”
He smirked, ran his hand higher, massaged her calf. “That how we’re going to play this?”
“Just till the wedding, Cole...”
“It’s a long life we get, Maggie. Decades. You’re going to spend decades without your Cole?” He lifted her foot now and gently kissed her toes. She curled them, scrunched his lips and squished them closed.
“Stop it,” she laughed.
“Mm, I can’t be without my Maggie.”
“Your Margaret?”
“Oh, you want to play?”
She shook her head no. “Max said I had to be good.”
“You told him this was open.”
“He said be good.”
“Did he say we shouldn’t fuck?”
“No. It’s just ... it’s weird, ‘cause he’s, you know, visiting his parents.”
“So?”
“So, I love his parents. He’s doing family things. I want to be open, but my sweet Maxy ...”
“Aw, I miss my bad Maggie ... sentimental Maggie is—”
“Shit,” she hissed and clapped her hands, jumping off the bed, digging her heel into his thigh before she leaped.
Cole clutched his heart and laughed, “Jesus, Maggie, you scared the shit out of me, what the f—”
“I know, I know,” she babbled, electric current running through her. Drawers were pulled open, sketchpad thrown to the bed, tin of French pastels following closely after. Cole’s eyes followed her movements.
“Let’s take a break,” she said.
“What?”
“I’ve never drawn you.”
“No, you ...” It dawned on him then. He moved himself closer to the edge of the bed, put his feet on the floor. “You mean ...”
“Yeah, I’ve never drawn you. Why have I never ...”
“What do you want?” he asked her.
She smiled and giggled and didn’t need to explain.
Cole stood, and already had the sweatshirt over his head, his arms struggling and elbowing underneath, trying to get it off. “I’m fucking honored, Maggie,” he said under the cotton.
The plane left Albany at 6:45 A.M. yet it was 6:00 A.M. when he arrived at his destination. It was too early to eat again; he was still stuffed from the Denny’s.
From the airport he’d walked to Lindbergh Field then caught a bus that took him into the city. From City College Station it was a short streetcar ride to where he was staying. It was too early to check into the hotel so he walked down to the park that surrounded the marina. Weather was a lot better than chilly Vermont. Seventy and sunny, forecast for eighty. He sat in the park and watched the boats in the bay.
At around 8 A.M., he phoned back east, calling his brother, Connor, who he assumed would have slept off whatever hangover he’d earned on a Friday night at Northwestern.
“What’s up, player?”
Connor groaned, “Who is this?”
“Your liver. I fucked off to Cuba to get some rest, calling to say I’m not coming back.”
“Max?”
“Rise and shine.”
The phone jostled against fabric as his brother rolled over in bed. Connor yawned, grunted, said, “What time is it?”
“I don’t know. Around eleven.”
“What’s up? You okay?”
“Yeah, man. Listen, mom and dad went to Lexington to visit Aunt Amy, right?”
“Yeah. Everything okay?”
“It is. I told Maggie I went home to visit mom and dad, but I didn’t. I’m out west to arrange a surprise for her.”
“Okay ...”
“Yeah, so, should anything come up, should she call looking for me or something, say she couldn’t get a hold of mom and dad or me ...”
“What the fuck are you up to?”
“Just act like you know I went home, okay? Then track me down.”
“Are you going into space or something? Like, why wouldn’t she be able to call you?”
“Relax. She’s not going to call. I just have visions of her calling the house, no one’s there, my phone’s dead or something, she calls you ...”
“And I say mom and pop are in Lexington. Where are you? What’s ‘out west’?”
“San Diego.”
“A surprise for Maggie in San Diego. What is it?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“You are one sneaky motherfucker. Always were.”
“Thanks, Connor.”
He shot the shit with his brother for a while, turned out he had a lady friend in bed with him. When she wanted breakfast Connor said to Max, “Stop harassing me, for fuck’s sake,” then hung up on Max while he was mid-sentence. Abruptly hanging up on each other was always sure t
o bring a smile to one of the Milton brothers. Not the one hung up on though Max smiled anyway.
At 9 A.M. his stomach was ready for lunch and he went to the Starbucks in the Hilton where he’d booked a room. Afterward he found a space that rented lockers and he put his heavy peacoat and bag away. When it was 10 A.M. he knew the symposium would be under way so he walked the concourse, heading from the Hilton to the convention center.
Admission was $45 for students, and they wrapped a pink strap around his wrist. This was the Industrial Biotechnology Expo, a two-day event hosting big players and small players in the emerging Bio-tech business. Pretty much a business/retail convention, but it also attracted keynote speakers in a symposium, hosted in smaller galleries in the outskirts of the show.
Max worked his way through the bustling halls until he was at the north end, dodged right at the impressive and packed CRISPR booth and emerged in a two-story corridor at the foot of dual escalators. Ahead were open double doors, a sign on a chrome stand out front told him this was the gallery he searched for.
He slipped into the nearly packed room and took a seat at the back row, on the aisle. As late-comers arrived, and attendees got themselves comfortable, Max scanned the room. A third of the way from the podium, almost dead center, he saw a young man with the right hairstyle. He wore a white Oxford button-down and sat next to another young serious-looking Asian male. When the guy in the white Oxford turned he saw that it was indeed Ken, Maggie’s brother.
The lights dimmed, and a spotlight was turned on above the podium. A guy in a suit with an event badge swinging on a lanyard came to center stage and announced the speaker. A casually dressed middle-aged Chinese man took his place at the podium. The room went quiet and the ‘talk’ began.
Dr. Yingxu Peng-Sheng from the National Sun Yat-sen University in Taiwan was the speaker. Something about the use of electrons and laser beams in bio applications. Max hung with it for a while but it got esoteric fast and it wasn’t long before his eyes began to flutter. Up all night with Maggie, awake at four in the morning, a massive greasy breakfast, a flight, a listless morning, all conspired to take him down. He dozed.
Sketchbook on knees, feet on bed, smirk on face, she watched Cole get naked. This was the first time she’d seen him naked like this in such a plain matter. Usually their times together were hot trysts, rich with forbidden lust; when they undressed Cole was erect, and she had dampened her panties—when she wore them.