The charming checklist, p.14
The Charming Checklist, page 14
“Oh, Max. You’re not at all who I thought you were.”
“And that would be a hired assassin, right?” His eyes smiled. “I can’t kill you with one finger, but I think you know I can do a lot of other special things with my finger.”
“Wonderful things. I do love that finger of yours.”
“Any other questions for me before I ravish you again?”
Chapter Sixteen
Max spent early Monday morning out on the waves with Cole. As usual, Max had arrived first. Dawn broke as Cole pulled into the parking lot moments later.
“Hey, sorry I’m late.”
Sub bounded ahead of them as usual, eager as always to reach the water. Max nodded to Cole and waded out first, carrying his board, then going on his stomach to swim out to the swell of the waves. Charming wasn’t exactly known for their surfing community, though the numbers had grown in the past year since he and Cole started coming out. At this point, only the diehards were out, trying to catch a wave or two. Max always consulted his nautical wristwatch and gave Cole the full report, often leaving him feeling like a weatherman.
Today the sky was a swirl of blue and gray, the water cooler than normal. The Gulf was usually a bit like a big hot tub. Having been all over the world with the US Navy and his SEAL team, and in every sea and ocean, he preferred the near-arctic temperatures. But he’d made the best of it here and the Gulf had grown on him. At least in the Gulf there was no need for a wet suit.
Max and Cole didn’t much indulge in small talk, the way he preferred it. But after about an hour or so surfing, Max had his fill. Besides, more surfers were arriving, crowding them.
“Valerie wants to have a baby,” Cole said, carrying his board.
Sub followed along happily, ecstatic to simply be included.
“Whoa. No kidding. You’re not even married yet.”
“We’re going to do that part first, even though she says she doesn’t mind walking to the altar already knocked up. She’s going to be thirty-one next month, and she says we better get crackin’.”
“Such a hardship. Getting your woman pregnant.” Max snorted.
Cole grinned. “I’m not complainin’ or anything.”
“Are you ready?”
Cole was almost two years younger than Max, and two years ago Max was nowhere near ready to settle down.
“To be a father? I thought my father screwed me up for good, but with Valerie, I can’t go wrong. She said the best thing I can do for my children is to love their mother. And that’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
“I think it’s going to be a lot harder than that.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Anyway, we’ll figure it out.” Cole hauled his board into his truck bed and smiled. “Is it wrong of me not to want her to get pregnant right away?”
“When getting her pregnant is going to be so much fun?” Max slapped Cole’s back. “Not at all, bro. Not at all.”
Next to his vehicle, Max did the surfer change shuffle, underneath a carefully placed towel. A skill Cole had taught Max years ago. Before Cole, Max hadn’t been much of a surfer. Though he’d been raised not far from the coast in California, where there was a big surf scene, he’d stuck to swimming. The Monterey Bay was freezing, and he’d learned how to swim there. It wasn’t uncommon for him to swim a mile at a time and he’d pushed himself to go farther every time. He’d been the strongest swimmer in the county, which had been a great start to his navy career.
Max normally went home to shower and change, but today he’d brought along his laptop and wanted to work in the office for a few hours before going home to change. Later, he had a Chamber-sponsored networking event with some of the other business owners in town that he made it a point to attend every chance he got.
He and Cole walked down the boardwalk on their way to the bar, Sub following dutifully behind them. The Salty Dog was at the end of the wharf and past the Ferris wheel and storefronts just now opening up. An ice cream shop that served the best waffle cones on the coast was kitty corner to the Ferris wheel. A souvenir gift store next to them sold magnets in the shape of Texas. The Lazy Mazy Kettle Corn storefront on the corner was a favorite with locals.
Sub occasionally barked a greeting to his favorite people, and more to the point, Cole waved at everyone. That was Cole, a friendly person by nature. Max wasn’t much of a waver, but more of a nodder. He now nodded a greeting to Karen, manager of The Waterfront, the fine dining seafood restaurant next to them.
Cole stopped to chat, and when it became clear that he would be engaged in conversation regarding Karen’s turbulent love life, Max went ahead. There was a reason they’d decided early on in this enterprise that Cole would be the on-site manager. He had the gift of gab.
Max unlocked and unrolled the cage that covered their storefront. Switching lights on inside, he made his way to the office. It hadn’t changed much back here since he and Cole saved the Salty Dog from bankruptcy last year by bailing Cole’s father out. The plain office was wood paneled, a real throwback look that didn’t suit Max. Otherwise, there was just a desk, a couple of chairs and a short leather love seat behind a coffee table. Sub’s dog bed and a few chew toys sat in one corner.
First things first. Max opened his laptop and pulled up the spreadsheets he lived by. A P&L report was generated by income and regular expenses. Cole may have wanted to buy the bar to save his father from humiliation, but Max didn’t make warm and fuzzy business decisions. He was a numbers man through and through. Numbers didn’t lie or tell a person what they wanted to hear. Max went to work trimming expenses, switching accounts and moving money around.
Outside, he heard the staff begin to arrive as people called out greetings, dishes clanged, knives chopped the aroma of coffee percolated. What seemed moments later, he looked up to see that Sub was lying on his dog bed. A cup of coffee sat on the edge of the desk. He checked his watch and noted he’d been at work for three solid hours and lost track of time.
“Hey, buddy. What? You don’t even say hi?”
Then he remembered that Cole had taught Sub to sit on his bed while in the office, until he issued a command. Max gave the hand command, and Sub happily rose to meet him for rubs and ear scratches. He went back to his bed when Max pointed to it.
He’d been so engrossed in his work he must not have heard Cole open the door. But the good news was that he’d found the money to give the kitchen staff a well-deserved raise. He’d go ahead and let Cole tell them, because he had more of a need to be the “good guy” than Max did. Cole hired; Max fired.
He also found some wiggle room with their coffee distributor and might just be able to start serving Ava’s coffee instead. He couldn’t distinguish between their different properties, but he had been able to taste the difference between the swill they served here.
His decision had nothing to do with sleeping with Ava. Well, almost nothing. He wouldn’t mind being the recipient of her gratitude. Let’s just say that. But whenever Max came across quality, he would try to make the numbers work. He just didn’t know if Ava was prepared to supply them with all the coffee they needed. She was a one-woman operation.
There was a knock on the office door and Debbie opened it a crack and leaned in. “There’s someone here to see you.”
He gulped his coffee, now lukewarm, and grimaced at the taste. “I’m not expecting anyone. Who is it?”
“I’ve never seen him before.” She shrugged. “Says you know him.”
Before Max could get up, a big, burly figure of a bearded man appeared behind Debbie, startling her. “Don’t let him lie to you. He knows me.”
Adam.
“Holy shit, dude!” Max was up in two seconds and grabbed the big guy in a bear hug. “I thought you were going to call me to pick you up at the airport.”
“I have an app.” He held out his phone and shrugged, then caught a look at Sub. “Hey, you finally got a dog.”
“Nah, he belongs to Cole. Submarine, Sub for short.”
Max gave the hand command and Sub got up and came over to sniff Adam for all his worth. He wagged his tail like he’d found his new best friend.
Adam bent down and let Sub get acquainted. “Took a walk down the boardwalk. Got a few looks.”
And Adam did look a little like a homeless person. His beard was long and unkempt, his clothes disheveled. He looked like he’d just come off a mountain somewhere. Since he’d been working and living in Montana on a goat farm, this probably wasn’t far from the truth. He carried a knapsack on his back, which Max would bet carried all of his worldly possessions.
“It’s a little warmer in Texas,” Max said, taking a look at Adam’s battered leather jacket.
“No wonder I’m sweating.” He snorted. “Montana is freezing. I was ready for a change.”
“Tired of goat farming?”
“It was just a stop.”
And there had been plenty of those along the way over the years. Adam was a young widower. After his wife’s death and the end of his military service, he’d been aimless. Jobless, much of the time. A hero without direction. Max owed nothing less than his life to this man, so he planned on making Charming, Texas, Adam’s last stop.
“Let’s talk about my offer.”
* * *
Normally, Ava attended the monthly town hall meeting where grievances of every type were addressed.
But this afternoon, she had to go home and check on her mother. Since she’d lost her phone and didn’t “do” texting, Ava couldn’t check in with her during the day. Mom had indulged in some retail therapy on Sunday, buying and shipping several prints back to Dallas. Though Ava was beginning to wonder if something deeper was wrong with her mother, she couldn’t discourage her from supporting local Charming artists.
Ava heard the laughter before she’d even gotten out of her car. Through the screened front door next door, she saw her mother sitting at the kitchen table with Susannah.
“I always wanted a family dog, but my insufferable fool of a husband said they carry parasites.”
Insufferable fool?
Ava’s throat tightened. The bitterness in Mom’s voice was unmistakable. She’d never called her father a fool. Far from it. She’d always claimed he was the most intelligent man she’d ever met.
“Hello?” Ava said from the other side of the screened door.
“We’re right in here,” Susannah said from the kitchen. “Come on in.”
Ava opened the door and let herself inside. “I’m glad you two are getting along.”
“I’m having such a great time with your mother. She’s such a kick.”
Dr. Katherine Long? A kick?
Her mother sat at the kitchen table with Susannah, Doodle the cockapoo in her lap. She looked relaxed, happy and...she wore jeans. Jeans. And a... Was that a tie-dyed T-shirt from the local boutique? Her hair was in a ponytail. A ponytail!
Ava blinked. “Mom?”
“Did you have a good day?” She beamed, ruffling Doodle’s fur. “I did a little more shopping and found this incredible boutique.”
“What are you wearing? Jeans?”
Her mother stood, setting Doodle down, and showed off the ensemble. “I’d forgotten how jeans tend to accentuate all my best features.”
They were tight and...well, disturbing. Even when they’d been on vacation as a family, Mom never wore jeans.
“I think she looks great. Honey, listen, I invited your mother to the Almost Dead Poet Society meeting tonight,” Susannah said. “You’re welcome too, of course.”
“We should go, Ava! Are you busy tonight, maybe with Max?”
Max usually hung out with Cole during the poetry meetings that Valerie always attended. One of the few times Valerie and Cole were apart these days.
“I’m usually busy tonight and can’t make it. But I decided to skip the town hall meeting. They don’t need me. I...just try to be supportive.”
“Perfect. This might be the only time you can attend,” Susannah said.
She didn’t want to break it to Susannah, but the poetry club was not where she’d prefer to spend her free time. Valerie had given her the 411 on it, and even she wouldn’t attend except to support her grandmother.
Their poetry supposedly gave new meaning to the word amateur, but if this would get her mother to open up and tell Ava what the hell was going on with her, it would be worth it.
Chapter Seventeen
“Thank you for coming,” Valerie said as she enveloped Ava in a hug. “Finally, someone my age at these meetings.”
“Valerie, meet my mother. Dr. Katherine Long.”
“So nice to meet you,” Mom said, extending her hand. “Please call me Katherine. Susannah invited me to attend.”
For the meeting, Mom had changed into her normal casual attire of slacks and a silky blouse top, giving Ava hope that she hadn’t completely lost her mind. Whatever else was going on, she was still Mom, unable to leave the house wearing more than two colors.
Both Ava and her mother were introduced to the rest of the senior citizen gang. There were people Ava mostly knew through her volunteer work at the senior citizen community center in town. Patsy Villanueva was Valerie’s grandmother, now recovering nicely from a stroke she’d had a few months ago. Etta May Virgil led the group and was Patsy’s neighbor, as were Lois and Roy Finch, the sole man in the group.
There were a few folding chairs arranged to make a circle with the couch. Mom sat next to Susannah.
“The speaker stands in the middle to recite their poem,” Valerie said to Ava. “I just sit here and try to be supportive. Be sure to clap when I do. Here, have a cookie. It makes the minutes bearable. And please, please, please don’t judge me when you hear my grandmother’s poem. I honestly don’t know how we could be related.”
“I often wondered the same about me and my mother,” Ava mused, taking a bite of chocolate chip cookie.
She should have really brought her coffee beans to this meeting and served the group. Maybe if she ever showed up again. She’d already offered to serve her coffee at the senior assisted living center, but too many of them had switched to decaf on doctor’s orders.
They began with Mr. Finch, whose beautiful poem was about Texas. When it came to inanimate objects, Mr. Finch threw his voice to make it sound like the truck was talking.
Valerie clapped, and of course so did Ava.
“It’s going to be tough to beat that one.”
“It always is,” Valerie said.
Mrs. Villanueva was next and as Valerie slunk lower and lower in her chair, Ava listened to a sexy poem about how sex hadn’t ended at seventy. It was filled with alliteration, which was kind of cool.
“Jeez,” Valerie said, covering her face.
“I think that’s beautiful.”
“You might feel differently if that was your mother up there,” Valerie said.
Ava didn’t think so. She clung to the idea of her parents being in love after all this time. It gave her hope. Though they’d never been particularly demonstrative, they were intensely private people. By the fourth poem, recited by the group’s founder, Etta May, extolling the virtues of antibacterial soap, Ava was cringing. Her mother, who attended the ballet and symphony in her spare time, would laugh at these amateur poets. She believed artists should be snobs. Were entitled to be snobs. Then again, she’d purchased a tie-dyed tee from the boutique in town, so maybe Mom was changing. In a good way.
People could change in their sixties, right? Sure, they could. Her mother was close to a retirement she and Dad had planned forever. She was simply opening up to new and interesting possibilities, that’s all. Opening up to where they’d travel when they retired.
Susannah and Lois concluded the evening, Susannah with a rhyming poem about Doodle, and Lois with a sweet poem about second chances. Afterward there was tea, coffee—fair enough quality—and cookies.
“Thank you for your sweet poem,” her mother said to Susannah. “I love how you think Doodle can sometimes read your mind.”
They said their goodbyes after a few more minutes, and on the drive home, Mom didn’t say a nasty or derisive word about the evening.
“Mom, thanks for being so understanding,” Ava said. “I know this isn’t for everyone. Valerie cringes at her grandmother’s poems. But she misses her late husband and I think they’re nice tributes to him. I’m sure you can relate. You and Dad have been in love for so long, after all.”
Her mother snorted. “The man in Patsy’s poems sounds like a true romantic. Far from your father, who thinks it’s romantic to schedule sex.”
“Mom! Please!”
“A little too much information? Well, you asked.”
“Are you and Daddy still fighting? Over me? Do you want me to talk to him?”
“No, honey, that’s sweet. You may as well know now, I’m thinking of divorcing your father.”
Ava nearly drove off the road. A car behind her honked.
“Watch where you’re going!” Mom chided.
Ava pulled off the road, breathing hard. “Are you...are you kidding me?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just sprung this on you.”
“You think?”
“It was bound to happen.”
“Why was it bound to happen? This...tell me it’s not about me. Tell me you’re not divorcing because he’s suddenly supporting my choices.”
“No. That’s not the problem.”
“But why? What went wrong? Did he cheat on you?”
Please, God, no! Not her wonderful father.
“Of course not. Your father has far too much integrity for that sort of thing. We both do.”
