Chapter Fifty-Nine
Max watched Liz’s breasts jiggle beneath the thin, silky material of her nightshirt as she skipped to and fro across the kitchen preparing brunch. Every time she moved her breasts would bounce just slightly, drawing attention to their newfound fullness. And if the alluring roundness of her blossoming breasts weren’t enough taunting Max was also afforded with a smorgasbord of creamy thighs and shapely calves because all she wore was that silky scrap of material and a pair of ankle socks. Max’s reaction to the display was instantaneous. He buried his nose deeper into his book, pretending to ignore the sudden tent in his shorts. They had been living together for only a week and already she was killing him.
Liz hummed a little cheery tune under her breath as she gathered prep materials to make them both omelets, completely unaware of Max’s avid attention. “I love Saturday mornings, don’t you?” she chirped happily as she whisked the eggs.
Max noted how her nightshirt would ride up slightly as she worked, exposing just a peek of her hot pink panties. Damned if she didn’t have one helluva sassy ass! His mouth went dry. “Yuh…” he grunted absently, “Gotta love Saturdays.”
“And Saturday mornings in Florida are just the best,” she piped. She took out an onion for the fridge and positioned it on her cutting board for slicing. “This is the most beautiful weather I’ve ever seen in my life,” she remarked.
“It’s hot,” Max grumbled. What he really wanted to say was, “I’m hot.” And he was. A fever had started in his blood, localized in the general area of his lap. He brought the book even closer to his face.
“It’s no hotter than it was in New Mexico,” Liz argued, unaware that each time she bent forward Max sneaked a glance at her scantily clad bottom over the top edge of his book.
“But that’s dry heat,” Max protested absently, swallowing hard when she bent to throw the onionskin in the trash. The desire to reach out and touch her was so strong he actually bit his hand to keep from doing it. By the time she straightened he had composed himself, but the teeth grooves in his skin were pretty deep. Desperately trying to hang onto some semblance of dignity, Max forced himself to resume their conversation. “The heat here is humid and muggy…stifling. It’s like it sticks to your skin.” He swallowed again, swiping his forearm across his perspiring brow. “Is the air on? I’m suddenly burning up.”
Liz slanted him a puzzled glance. “Of course the air is on,” she replied lightly, “It’s already well into the high nineties.”
“Hmm…great,” Max droned mockingly.
She looked around at him fully after she’d poured the egg mixture into a pan coated with sizzling hot butter. “Are you sure you feel alright?” she asked worriedly, “You look a little flushed. Maybe you should have that follow-up appointment with the doctor after all.”
“No, no, a thousand times no,” he replied firmly, “Doctors visits take money and without insurance the price is outrageous. I’m still paying for having the frelling staples removed.”
“You’re such a hardhead,” Liz told him, turning slightly to reduce the stove’s heat and cover over the omelet with a lid. When she faced him again her features were stony with disapproval. She folded her arms over her chest. “It’s always about money with you.”
“That’s because I like having a place to stay,” Max tossed back glibly, returning his attention to his book, “I’m quirky that way.”
“You know I’ll help you,” Liz reassured him, taking the seat at the kitchen table adjacent to his, “Your pride is the only thing stopping you.”
“Well, forgive me if I have no desire to live off my best friend’s charity.”
Liz shrugged nonchalantly. “What’s the big deal?” she insisted, “It’s your money anyway.”
Max compressed his lips in a derisive smile. “That’s one way to look at it.” He started to once again return his attention to his book but Liz flattened her hand against the page, obstructing his view.
“You’ve had your nose in that book for over a month,” she said crossly, “I swear you’re doing more research on this pregnancy than I am and I’m the one who’s actually going to have the kid.”
“I wanna be prepared,” was Max’s brief defense as he tried, unsuccessfully, to pry Liz’s fingers from the page, “You could learn something from that.”
“What’s to learn?” Liz demanded airily, “The doc says push, I do and the kid pops right out.” Max just completely ignored her this time, not even a glower. She had to bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud when he gave up the task of removing her hand and began trying to read around her fingers. “What are you reading about anyway?” she snickered.
“Miscarriages.”
The teasing smile dropped from Liz’s face immediately. “Is there any reason why you’re reading about miscarriages?” she asked shakily.
Max focused carefully on the pages of his book. “I wanted to find out why they happened,” he confessed gruffly, “And if they can be prevented.”
“And can they be prevented?” Liz prodded in an aching whisper.
“Well, the majority of miscarriages happen because the fetus isn’t viable and so the body’s way of dealing with that is spontaneous abortion. It says in most cases the fetus wouldn’t have been carried to term in the first place.” He expelled a heavy, shuddering sigh. “It also says that a fall can’t cause a miscarriage, at least not so early in pregnancy. Apparently, the baby has a great deal of cushion within the amniotic sac and it would take repeated trauma to cause a miscarriage.”
Liz scooted her chair over next to his so that they sat shoulder to shoulder. “So now you know for sure that you didn’t cause Tess’ miscarriage,” Liz concluded softly.
“Yeah…now I know,” Max whispered. He raised his eyes to hers, eyes swimming with relief and regret, but resolve as well. “I just needed to know for my own peace of mind, you know? And I needed you to know that I would never hurt you…no matter what happens. I promise I will never put you or our baby in jeopardy.”
She cupped his cheek, sliding her fingers along the back of his ear lobe. “I never doubted that, Max,” she replied earnestly, “I know you’ll protect us both with your last breath.”
“I will,” he vowed.
They stayed that way for a while, nuzzling slightly, breaths mingling, as something fundamental between them changed once more. They had gone from friends to lovers to enemies to friends again and now the time had come to step onto the next level. But as Max started to meld his lips to hers, he was overcome again with the fear that going further would be the ruination of them. He’d lost her once and he was terrified of it happening again. He’d never survive a second time. And so he pulled back, his expression torn and fearful. “I should go and get the mail,” he whispered suddenly. His statement accomplished what he wanted, however. It broke the mood.
“The mail?” Liz answering frown of puzzlement became one of outright disbelief when he pushed himself from the table and started to leave. She snagged hold of his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. He stared down at her with a woebegone expression. “You were about to kiss me,” Liz accused him.
He didn’t put any effort forth to deny it. Max was certain the truth was written all over him. “I was.”
“So why didn’t you?” His lack of answer didn’t discourage Liz. She knew exactly why he hadn’t kissed her without his saying a word. The fear in his eyes was quite evident. Liz sighed. “You can’t be afraid forever,” she advised him patiently, “Sooner or later you’re going to have to take a chance on us, Max. Nothing in life is guaranteed. I can’t tell you we’ll work out like a fairytale, that we’ll never fight or argue or have a moment’s misery but I can tell you that if you decide to take this step with me…you’ll never regret it.”
His eyes glittered at her declaration and he quickly averted his head in an effort to hide the tears her ardent words had evoked. “I’ll think about what you said,” he replied gruffly, “I’ll…I’ll just go and get that mail.”
Liz didn’t run after him this time. She knew that Max’s retreat was based on a very real fear of failure and she didn’t want to negate his fear. In his mind, he was responsible for their break up and pulling back from her was just his way of trying not to hurt her. He’d figure out for himself, soon enough, that his fear was irrational. In the meantime, Liz had learned enough in the last few weeks to understand that she couldn’t push him into doing anything he wasn’t ready to do. She, herself, had needed to take life at her own pace so she could understand the reason for Max’s caution.
She pushed herself from the chair and shuffled back over to the stove to sneak a quick peek at the loaded ham omelet. As she loosened the golden edges of the egg from the sides of the pan Liz’s mind wandered over that almost kiss. He had been so close. Liz held her breath as his mouth drew a feathery, meandering line down her cheek towards the corner of her mouth. She missed the taste of him so much that she ached with it. She wondered if Max felt that same ache she did. Those two days they’d shared during Spring Break hadn’t been nearly enough. If anything, the memory merely fanned the flames of Liz’s desire. Liz was still brooding over her thoughts when Max returned a few minutes later just as she was setting the table.
“You got another letter from your mom,” he announced, tossing the small envelope onto the table.
“My mom?” Liz lifted the letter carefully, a happy smile of excitement curving her lips. It was a marked difference from the angry dismay she’d felt in the beginning. That first letter her mother had sent her more than a month ago had gone unopened for three days. Liz had been torn between the mad desire to burn it and the equally mad desire to read it. She couldn’t decide if she was angry over the fact her mother had dared to contact her or overjoyed because she was obviously still very much a part of Nancy Parker’s thoughts. In the end Liz’s curiosity got the better of her and she gave into the latter and resignedly read her mother’s words. By the time she was finished Liz had a clearer picture of exactly what had motivated her mother into pushing for the betrothal.
Nancy Parker had only been eighteen years old when she was married off to Jeff Parker, who was ten years her senior. She knew firsthand what it felt like to be the product of an arranged marriage. The only difference between her and Liz was that Liz was in love with her husband while Nancy had not been. Back then Nancy had been in love with someone else, but the boy’s background was so unacceptable to her parents that they wouldn’t even consider him for a husband. At eighteen, Nancy had lacked the courage to defy her parents and stay with the man she loved. Instead had abided her parents’ wishes and married Jeff. And, where she had never wholly regretted her decision to do so, she couldn’t stop asking herself “what if” either.
That was the exact reason she pushed for the marriage. She knew that Liz was in love with Max and she suspected that Max felt the same for Liz. Nancy had wanted them both to have the opportunity to marry for love. She had been so afraid that Max would run off with Tess before he realized he was in love with Liz that she had pushed for the marriage, even going so far as to bring Jeff into the deal by dangling the prospect for profit beneath his nose. Whereas her husband’s actions had been motivated partly by greed, Nancy’s actions had been wholly motivated by love. She hadn’t wanted her daughter to wonder “what if.” She hadn’t wanted Liz to harbor any regrets.
Learning her mother’s feelings had helped Liz to overcome much of her anger and resentment. Ever since that letter she and Nancy had been growing increasingly closer. Her mother wrote at least twice a week and they spoke on the phone with each other every Sunday night. The healing of their mother/daughter relationship had even motivated Liz to heal the rift with her father and brother, too. Even now she was entertaining the notion of visiting her parents for the fourth of July. Liz felt heartened by the knowledge that her family was working their way back to each other…they were finally healing…
However, when Liz looked at Max and saw the secret yearning in his eyes, that desire to have his parents reach out to him in the same manner hers had Liz’s joy gave way to bittersweet anguish. He pretended as if he didn’t care, that he would probably reject any overtures his family might attempt but Liz knew otherwise. She knew he wanted more than the secondhand conversations he’d enjoyed with his mother through Isabel. She knew that he wanted to break through the wall of miscommunication and misunderstanding, but it was important that Max NOT be the one to make the first move. His family had been the one to strain their bond with him…they had to be the ones who made efforts to repair it.
Max flicked sad eyes at the letter in Liz’s hand. “I’ll just give you some privacy,” he offered dully, already turning to leave the kitchen.
“But Max!” Liz protested, “What about brunch? You haven’t eaten.”
He shook his head. “I’m not hungry anymore,” he said, “You can have it.”
Liz let him leave, knowing he would be better after he’d been given some time to brood. She resumed her seat at the table and tore open the letter eagerly. The letter from her mother was brief. She indicated that there was a letter for Max from his mother enclosed inside and, because Diane Evans did not know Max’s address, Liz was to give it to him. The letter told Liz two things: that her parents had respected her wishes and kept her living arrangement with Max to themselves and that Diane Evans was finally ready to reconcile with her son. Liz couldn’t get the letter to Max fast enough.
Liz hopped up from the table and quickly rushed back to Max’s bedroom. She found him doing push-ups. “This is for you,” she told him with a happy smile.
Max pushed himself to his knees, already reaching to take the paper from her extended hand even as his brow was crinkling with confusion. “Your mom wrote me a letter?” he wondered, “Why?”
“Not my mom,” Liz clarified, “Your mom.” The look on his face almost moved Liz to tears. He might have well been handling pure gold for the reverence that darkened his eyes. Suddenly it seemed that letter was the most precious possession he owned. “You should read it,” Liz urged in a whisper.
Max nodded and beckoned her forward as he moved to fold himself down onto his bed. “Come sit beside me,” he coerced sweetly, “I want to hold your hand while I do.” Her throat aching with emotion, Liz did as he asked and curled herself up against his side. They were both holding their breath as he unfolded the crisp sheets of paper.
His voice trembling slightly, Max began to read…
When Love Isn't Enough (ML / Adult) (Complete)
Moderators: Itzstacie, Forum Moderators
-
Deejonaise
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2002 12:48 am
- Location: On my rusty dusty...
-
Deejonaise
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2002 12:48 am
- Location: On my rusty dusty...
Chapter Sixty
Max,
This is probably the coward’s way of breaking this silence between us but the prospect of hearing the hurt I’ve caused you in your voice is too much for me to bear and so I’ve written this letter instead.
So I will admit it right here before I write another word: your father and I wronged you. I know that saying so does nothing to heal the damage that was done, but you needed to know how truly sorry we both are. To say that we thought our actions in your best interest seems so trite now. It definitely doesn’t excuse what we did and so I won’t even try and salve my conscience by explaining the reasons. No reasons were good enough or justified enough to put you through the hell we did.
I had two choices, my love. I could have been a good mother and stood up for my son or I could have been a good wife and trusted that my husband knew what he was doing. I chose the latter and in the process I lost you. You must understand that I never wanted you to suffer, neither of us did, but your father insisted that a dose of tough love would be the only way to knock some sense into you. We only wanted you to be happy…to open your eyes and see what a gem you had for a wife. Max paused there and regarded Liz with a tender smile. That was one of the good things that had come out of his parents’ apathy; he had opened his eyes to what a precious treasure Liz truly was. He tucked her even closer against his body before continuing. I had imagined that after a few months on your own you wouldn’t be so quick to take your blessings for granted.
You must believe that I would have never allowed you to starve or go without for long, Max. That money that Isabel was always pressing into your hands…I was the one who had given it to her, but I made her promise to never let you know. I thought that you would reject it completely if you knew where it really came from. However, it made little difference in the end though since you weren’t willing to take it from Isabel either. I only wanted you to learn to be strong, Max, to stand on your own and become a man. I never meant for you to suffer the indignities you did.
That night you were shot Isabel came to us and told us how sick Tess really was. She said she thought the girl was a threat to you. I turned to your father right then and demanded he end it immediately, that I wanted to bring you home immediately. Your father didn’t need much convincing. He was just as concerned as I was. I think at that point we were both beginning to realize that we had made a mistake. But we acted too late. I regret that our lapse in judgment nearly cost you your life. When I think of how close I came to losing my baby and all because I acted too late, too foolishly… I will always carry the guilt, Maxwell, always.
I wonder if it’s too much for me to hope that you would let me be a mother to you now. You probably hate me. I know I hate myself. I keep asking myself what kind of mother was I to put you through such hell… It’s still hard to look in the mirror these days but I can’t help my hope that you can find a way to forgive me even though I can’t forgive myself. Perhaps when you’re ready, you can let me be your friend. It is probably a fitting punishment that I lose you forever after the cowardice I’ve shown but, Max, I couldn’t bear it if I did lose you. I couldn’t bear it if you cut me out of your life forever. It would surely kill me.
I’ve been going crazy with worry for you since you left the hospital. I hate to think that you’re out there somewhere struggling on your own with no one to help you. I know from Isabel that you and Liz have decided to make your peace and I can only pray that you find the friend and confidant in her that you didn’t find in us.
But know this, I love you. Nothing I did was motivated out of spite or malice, but love. Misguided and misspent it may have been, but Max, you are my son, my firstborn… If you live one hundred years you will never understand just how much I love you or just how it tore me apart to watch you suffer. Again Max had to pause there because the thick ball of emotion in his throat was garbling his words terribly. Reading his mother’s heartfelt words Max was moved with pity. How could he possibly hate her when she was tearing herself to pieces with guilt already? And besides that, Max learned what had really been gnawing away at his heart since this all began. His mother did still love him and, truthfully, she had never stopped. That knowledge went further in healing his broken heart than anything else so far. He curved his lips in a bittersweet smile and continued to read. However, the next words sent a trill of cold shock straight to his heart.
Max, your father isn’t well. He had a stroke shortly after you left and, though he’s working his way to recovery, he’s unable to move his left side. Max had to stop reading once more, the warmth he was beginning to feel suddenly replaced with chilling fear. A violent shaking took hold of his hand as he held the letter. His father had suffered a stroke? A stroke and no one had told him? Max started to feel some resentment rise up in his chest when Liz laid her head against his shoulder and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Finish it,” she urged softly.
With a trembling sigh of trepidation Max heeded her tender command: He’s in physical therapy four times a week and it’s helping but the recovery time is slow. We’ve managed to keep his condition from the media for some time now, but I know that won’t last. I asked Isabel not to tell you. I knew you were still dealing with the trauma from the shooting as well as the bitterness our abandonment caused. I didn’t want you running back to Roswell to be by his side out of pity or obligation. You needed time to heal and I wanted to give you that…especially after we had already taken so much away. And your father is getting stronger just as you are dearest and he’s finally realized just how much he’s alienated you, Max, and he’s so incredibly sorry. This stroke was very probably a blessing in many ways. I know when you see him again he will be a better man, we will all be better people and, God knows, you deserve that.
Nancy has told me that Liz plans to visit for the fourth of July. I don’t want you to feel pressured or obligated but, my darling, we would be overjoyed if you decided to come home. You don’t have to answer right away…just please think about it.
I love you very much.
Mom
By the time Max refolded the letter tears were streaming down his face. He allowed the letter to flutter to his lap, his breath wheezing form his lungs in harsh pants. “My dad’s sick,” he murmured in a daze, his eyes glittering with fresh tears, “I gotta go home.” He started to roll away but Liz hooked his arm and held him down against the bed.
“I don’t think that’s what your mom wants right now, Max,” she advised softly.
Max glared at her as if he thought she’d gone insane. “You heard the letter, Liz! My dad’s had a stroke. Of course, my mom wants me to come home.”
“No, she wants you to take some time for yourself,” Liz clarified gently, “She’s not expecting you to hop on a plane and leave right now, okay.”
“I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
“Max, your mom doesn’t want you going back home for the wrong reasons,” Liz told him reasonably, “That’s why she waited so long to tell you what happened with your dad. She wants you to sort out your feelings before you see them again.”
The hurt in Max’s eyes suddenly gave way to accusation. “Did you know?” he demanded sharply, “Did you know my dad was so sick?”
“I found out just when you did,” Liz replied earnestly.
Max instantly regretted his accusatory tone but he’d just learned his father was seriously ill and suddenly his world no longer made sense. “I’m sorry for snapping at you, Liz,” he sighed, “Of course, you didn’t know.”
Liz massaged his back in small, comforting circles. “What are you going to do?”
“I feel like I should go home.” He sounded so confused and bereft that Liz couldn’t help but pull him against her so that his head was cradled against her breasts. Max stretched out lengthwise so that he could lay his head in her lap. She stroked his hair away from his temples. “Are you ready to go home?” she whispered.
Max shook his head, unconsciously rubbing his cheek against the swell of her breast as he did so. “Part of me wants to leave right now,” he confessed in anguish, “And part of me is just not ready to see them at all. I don’t know what to do.”
Liz twirled one thick strand of hair about her index finger. “Why don’t you call instead?” she suggested gently, “That way you don’t commit yourself to something you’re not ready for, but you can talk to your dad and see how he’s doing.”
There was an extended pause as he considered the option. And then she felt him lift her hand in his to brush his lips over her knuckles. “Will you stay with me while I do?”
She kissed his forehead along his hairline because she couldn’t stand not to. “I won’t go anywhere,” she promised.
Max seemed to hold onto that promise like a lifeline. He didn’t let go of her hand as he wiped the tears from his face or when he reached for the phone or when he dialed his parents phone number. In fact, with their hands still loosely linked, Max looped his arm about her neck and huddled close. Liz stared up into his face, watching the flickers of anxiety dance across his face as he awaited the much dreaded and much anticipated moment when his parents answered the phone.
A moment later she heard him say. “Hello, Mom? Yeah, yeah, it’s me…I know it’s a surprise…Mom…Mom, don’t cry…don’t, please…I got your letter today…I know Dad is sick. No, no, I’m not mad…I just wish you had told me sooner…can he talk to me? I mean…is he up to it? Yeah…I’d like that.” There was another lengthy pause of silence and then Liz heard, “Hey Dad, how are you feeling? Yeah, yeah, Mom wrote me a letter…no, you sound so good…really good…” But the tears pouring from his eyes belied his words. Max was trying very hard to keep the sobs from his tone. “So I was thinking about visiting you…yeah, but the fourth’s a month away…I don’t think we should talk about that now…no, why does it matter? You’re sick…I’m your son, of course I should be there.” Max sighed deeply. “I don’t hate you…no, it’s okay…I know you’re tired…lemme talk back to Mom.
“He wants me to wait,” Max told his mother, “I don’t understand when I’m willing to leave today if it’s necessary…I can afford it, Mom…I’ve got a good job…why is it so important to wait? He wants to be at his best? Mom, come on…I know he’s doesn’t want me to see him that way, but he needs his family… Don’t give me that crap about it not being as bad as I think…I know what a stroke does! Fine, you want me to think about it…Okay, okay, but I’m coming anyway…yes, I’ll make sure it’s for the right reasons…okay, I gotta go. G’bye.” He clicked off the phone with a frustrated huff. “Well, that was completely fruitless,” he muttered.
“What did they say?”
“They don’t want me to rush back home,” Max recounted in exasperation, “They want me to take time to sort out my feelings before I see them again.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. “How am I supposed to wait nearly four weeks to see him, Liz?” he wondered rhetorically, “He sounded so weak…his words were slurred…I could barely understand him… My mom says he doesn’t want me to see him that way. He wants to face me as a whole man…whatever that means.”
“Maybe you’ve just got to ride it out,” Liz counseled gently, “You still have so much anger towards him, Max. That’s not just gonna go away because he’s sick. You need to deal with it and move on before you see him again.”
“I hear what you’re saying,” Max acknowledged, “But I have to see him.” He stared into her eyes beseechingly. “I know you think I’m rushing myself but I need to do this, Liz. Please…please understand. I promise I can handle this.”
“Max, it’s okay,” Liz said softly, “Yeah, I understand. You don’t have to make explanations to me.”
“Yes, I do,” he insisted softly, “We’re together now, Liz. It’s important that I get your input on all the decisions I make because they affect you, too.”
Her tummy dipped at his words and Liz almost simpered in giddy delight. “Is that what we are?” she murmured in wonder, “Are we together?”
Now it was Max’s turn to blush awkwardly. “Yeah…I mean…I think so,” he stuttered lamely, “I consider you my girlfriend even though we haven’t taken the official steps or anything.”
Her stomach flipped yet again and filled with a warm, fluttery sensation. “You consider me your girlfriend?” Liz knew she was repeating everything he said like some big, dumb idiot but she was helpless to stop herself. It was like her mind had gone to pure mush. She couldn’t form a coherent thought if she wanted to. All she could focus on was his amazing eyes boring down into hers, a breathtaking mix of green and brown and gold and…heaven. Liz felt like she was falling into those eyes.
Max skated his fingertips over her chin, her lips, the graceful jut of her cheekbone. “Liz, you know how much you mean to me,” he whispered.
“Sometimes I forget,” Liz whispered back. She dipped her eyes deliberately to his mouth before lifting them to his gaze once again. “Maybe you could give me a refresher.”
He didn’t think about kissing her this time. Max just did it. Sliding his fingers into the silken length of her hair to cradle her face, Max brushed his lips against hers gently, his breath feathering her mouth in wispy forays. Their eyes connected for a brief, telling moment before lids sank closed once more. Max swept his thumb along the pouty fullness of her lower lip before replacing his fingers with his mouth, angling his head so that he could enjoy a more thorough taste of her. As he slanted his mouth across hers the kiss invariably deepened, blossomed from tentative exploration into gentle insistence.
Their kiss wasn’t untamed or overwhelming but it was thick with passion all the same. Liz bunched her fingers into the soft material of his t-shirt, pulling him closer, sucking him deeper. She felt dizzy, exhilarated, her senses flooded with his taste and scent and touch. She never wanted it to end, this nibbling, sucking…devouring of her soul.
But it did end. The feel of her delicate fingers creeping beneath his shirt jarred Max like an electric shock and he reared back with a heavy gasp. His eyes were swirling pools of desire and need as he stared down into her gaze.
Liz nuzzled against his mouth and chin. “Please, don’t say it shouldn’t have happened,” she implored sweetly.
Max tucked her head beneath his chin and stroked the shiny, dark length of her hair. “I wasn’t going to say that,” he replied gruffly.
“You…you don’t regret it?” Liz inquired cautiously. She was still basking in the floating afterglow of that kiss and her heart would just crumble completely if he regretted a single part of it.
“It’s the best damned thing that’s happened to me in a long time,” Max declared deeply, “Aside from the baby I mean.”
Liz tossed him a dazzling smile. “Really?”
He kissed her again, brief but sizzling with electricity. “God, what took me so long,” he murmured to himself, his eyes skimming over her beautiful features in reverent awe. Their mouths found each another yet again, making slow, breathless love. By the time they broke apart Max’s breathing was so serrated he could hardly form words, but still he found the wherewithal to lay his heart bare to her. “I love you, Liz.” She wanted to say the words in return but found her throat was so constricted that she could do little more than reply with a jerky nod. Understanding the emotion overtaking her at the moment Max seized the opportunity to speak the words that were ten years in coming. “I’ve loved you since I was a boy, Liz…back when I thought girls were icky and gross. But I never thought you were icky and gross. You were my haven, my home. You were the first person I would run to when something went down with my dad. Not Michael…you. You’re the only person who ever really knew me.”
Her tears spilled over then, dampening the front of his t-shirt. She splayed her hand across his heart, marveling at how his heart beat in time with her own. The sound was marvelous, mesmerizing…symbolic of what they were becoming: one heart, one soul…forever. Liz rubbed her cheek against his chest. “What are you going to do about your dad?” she asked. Liz felt him smile into her hair at the question. She did know him better than anyone else. There was no way Max would wait an entire month to see Philip Evans.
“I was thinking I would ask my boss for off on next weekend so that I could fly down and visit him,” Max said and then there was a beat of silence before he added, a thread of hope sewn into his tone, “I was wondering if you’d go with me.”
The smile she favored him with was glamorous, laughing, and so full of love it almost hurt to look at her. “You didn’t even have to ask.”
Max,
This is probably the coward’s way of breaking this silence between us but the prospect of hearing the hurt I’ve caused you in your voice is too much for me to bear and so I’ve written this letter instead.
So I will admit it right here before I write another word: your father and I wronged you. I know that saying so does nothing to heal the damage that was done, but you needed to know how truly sorry we both are. To say that we thought our actions in your best interest seems so trite now. It definitely doesn’t excuse what we did and so I won’t even try and salve my conscience by explaining the reasons. No reasons were good enough or justified enough to put you through the hell we did.
I had two choices, my love. I could have been a good mother and stood up for my son or I could have been a good wife and trusted that my husband knew what he was doing. I chose the latter and in the process I lost you. You must understand that I never wanted you to suffer, neither of us did, but your father insisted that a dose of tough love would be the only way to knock some sense into you. We only wanted you to be happy…to open your eyes and see what a gem you had for a wife. Max paused there and regarded Liz with a tender smile. That was one of the good things that had come out of his parents’ apathy; he had opened his eyes to what a precious treasure Liz truly was. He tucked her even closer against his body before continuing. I had imagined that after a few months on your own you wouldn’t be so quick to take your blessings for granted.
You must believe that I would have never allowed you to starve or go without for long, Max. That money that Isabel was always pressing into your hands…I was the one who had given it to her, but I made her promise to never let you know. I thought that you would reject it completely if you knew where it really came from. However, it made little difference in the end though since you weren’t willing to take it from Isabel either. I only wanted you to learn to be strong, Max, to stand on your own and become a man. I never meant for you to suffer the indignities you did.
That night you were shot Isabel came to us and told us how sick Tess really was. She said she thought the girl was a threat to you. I turned to your father right then and demanded he end it immediately, that I wanted to bring you home immediately. Your father didn’t need much convincing. He was just as concerned as I was. I think at that point we were both beginning to realize that we had made a mistake. But we acted too late. I regret that our lapse in judgment nearly cost you your life. When I think of how close I came to losing my baby and all because I acted too late, too foolishly… I will always carry the guilt, Maxwell, always.
I wonder if it’s too much for me to hope that you would let me be a mother to you now. You probably hate me. I know I hate myself. I keep asking myself what kind of mother was I to put you through such hell… It’s still hard to look in the mirror these days but I can’t help my hope that you can find a way to forgive me even though I can’t forgive myself. Perhaps when you’re ready, you can let me be your friend. It is probably a fitting punishment that I lose you forever after the cowardice I’ve shown but, Max, I couldn’t bear it if I did lose you. I couldn’t bear it if you cut me out of your life forever. It would surely kill me.
I’ve been going crazy with worry for you since you left the hospital. I hate to think that you’re out there somewhere struggling on your own with no one to help you. I know from Isabel that you and Liz have decided to make your peace and I can only pray that you find the friend and confidant in her that you didn’t find in us.
But know this, I love you. Nothing I did was motivated out of spite or malice, but love. Misguided and misspent it may have been, but Max, you are my son, my firstborn… If you live one hundred years you will never understand just how much I love you or just how it tore me apart to watch you suffer. Again Max had to pause there because the thick ball of emotion in his throat was garbling his words terribly. Reading his mother’s heartfelt words Max was moved with pity. How could he possibly hate her when she was tearing herself to pieces with guilt already? And besides that, Max learned what had really been gnawing away at his heart since this all began. His mother did still love him and, truthfully, she had never stopped. That knowledge went further in healing his broken heart than anything else so far. He curved his lips in a bittersweet smile and continued to read. However, the next words sent a trill of cold shock straight to his heart.
Max, your father isn’t well. He had a stroke shortly after you left and, though he’s working his way to recovery, he’s unable to move his left side. Max had to stop reading once more, the warmth he was beginning to feel suddenly replaced with chilling fear. A violent shaking took hold of his hand as he held the letter. His father had suffered a stroke? A stroke and no one had told him? Max started to feel some resentment rise up in his chest when Liz laid her head against his shoulder and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Finish it,” she urged softly.
With a trembling sigh of trepidation Max heeded her tender command: He’s in physical therapy four times a week and it’s helping but the recovery time is slow. We’ve managed to keep his condition from the media for some time now, but I know that won’t last. I asked Isabel not to tell you. I knew you were still dealing with the trauma from the shooting as well as the bitterness our abandonment caused. I didn’t want you running back to Roswell to be by his side out of pity or obligation. You needed time to heal and I wanted to give you that…especially after we had already taken so much away. And your father is getting stronger just as you are dearest and he’s finally realized just how much he’s alienated you, Max, and he’s so incredibly sorry. This stroke was very probably a blessing in many ways. I know when you see him again he will be a better man, we will all be better people and, God knows, you deserve that.
Nancy has told me that Liz plans to visit for the fourth of July. I don’t want you to feel pressured or obligated but, my darling, we would be overjoyed if you decided to come home. You don’t have to answer right away…just please think about it.
I love you very much.
Mom
By the time Max refolded the letter tears were streaming down his face. He allowed the letter to flutter to his lap, his breath wheezing form his lungs in harsh pants. “My dad’s sick,” he murmured in a daze, his eyes glittering with fresh tears, “I gotta go home.” He started to roll away but Liz hooked his arm and held him down against the bed.
“I don’t think that’s what your mom wants right now, Max,” she advised softly.
Max glared at her as if he thought she’d gone insane. “You heard the letter, Liz! My dad’s had a stroke. Of course, my mom wants me to come home.”
“No, she wants you to take some time for yourself,” Liz clarified gently, “She’s not expecting you to hop on a plane and leave right now, okay.”
“I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
“Max, your mom doesn’t want you going back home for the wrong reasons,” Liz told him reasonably, “That’s why she waited so long to tell you what happened with your dad. She wants you to sort out your feelings before you see them again.”
The hurt in Max’s eyes suddenly gave way to accusation. “Did you know?” he demanded sharply, “Did you know my dad was so sick?”
“I found out just when you did,” Liz replied earnestly.
Max instantly regretted his accusatory tone but he’d just learned his father was seriously ill and suddenly his world no longer made sense. “I’m sorry for snapping at you, Liz,” he sighed, “Of course, you didn’t know.”
Liz massaged his back in small, comforting circles. “What are you going to do?”
“I feel like I should go home.” He sounded so confused and bereft that Liz couldn’t help but pull him against her so that his head was cradled against her breasts. Max stretched out lengthwise so that he could lay his head in her lap. She stroked his hair away from his temples. “Are you ready to go home?” she whispered.
Max shook his head, unconsciously rubbing his cheek against the swell of her breast as he did so. “Part of me wants to leave right now,” he confessed in anguish, “And part of me is just not ready to see them at all. I don’t know what to do.”
Liz twirled one thick strand of hair about her index finger. “Why don’t you call instead?” she suggested gently, “That way you don’t commit yourself to something you’re not ready for, but you can talk to your dad and see how he’s doing.”
There was an extended pause as he considered the option. And then she felt him lift her hand in his to brush his lips over her knuckles. “Will you stay with me while I do?”
She kissed his forehead along his hairline because she couldn’t stand not to. “I won’t go anywhere,” she promised.
Max seemed to hold onto that promise like a lifeline. He didn’t let go of her hand as he wiped the tears from his face or when he reached for the phone or when he dialed his parents phone number. In fact, with their hands still loosely linked, Max looped his arm about her neck and huddled close. Liz stared up into his face, watching the flickers of anxiety dance across his face as he awaited the much dreaded and much anticipated moment when his parents answered the phone.
A moment later she heard him say. “Hello, Mom? Yeah, yeah, it’s me…I know it’s a surprise…Mom…Mom, don’t cry…don’t, please…I got your letter today…I know Dad is sick. No, no, I’m not mad…I just wish you had told me sooner…can he talk to me? I mean…is he up to it? Yeah…I’d like that.” There was another lengthy pause of silence and then Liz heard, “Hey Dad, how are you feeling? Yeah, yeah, Mom wrote me a letter…no, you sound so good…really good…” But the tears pouring from his eyes belied his words. Max was trying very hard to keep the sobs from his tone. “So I was thinking about visiting you…yeah, but the fourth’s a month away…I don’t think we should talk about that now…no, why does it matter? You’re sick…I’m your son, of course I should be there.” Max sighed deeply. “I don’t hate you…no, it’s okay…I know you’re tired…lemme talk back to Mom.
“He wants me to wait,” Max told his mother, “I don’t understand when I’m willing to leave today if it’s necessary…I can afford it, Mom…I’ve got a good job…why is it so important to wait? He wants to be at his best? Mom, come on…I know he’s doesn’t want me to see him that way, but he needs his family… Don’t give me that crap about it not being as bad as I think…I know what a stroke does! Fine, you want me to think about it…Okay, okay, but I’m coming anyway…yes, I’ll make sure it’s for the right reasons…okay, I gotta go. G’bye.” He clicked off the phone with a frustrated huff. “Well, that was completely fruitless,” he muttered.
“What did they say?”
“They don’t want me to rush back home,” Max recounted in exasperation, “They want me to take time to sort out my feelings before I see them again.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. “How am I supposed to wait nearly four weeks to see him, Liz?” he wondered rhetorically, “He sounded so weak…his words were slurred…I could barely understand him… My mom says he doesn’t want me to see him that way. He wants to face me as a whole man…whatever that means.”
“Maybe you’ve just got to ride it out,” Liz counseled gently, “You still have so much anger towards him, Max. That’s not just gonna go away because he’s sick. You need to deal with it and move on before you see him again.”
“I hear what you’re saying,” Max acknowledged, “But I have to see him.” He stared into her eyes beseechingly. “I know you think I’m rushing myself but I need to do this, Liz. Please…please understand. I promise I can handle this.”
“Max, it’s okay,” Liz said softly, “Yeah, I understand. You don’t have to make explanations to me.”
“Yes, I do,” he insisted softly, “We’re together now, Liz. It’s important that I get your input on all the decisions I make because they affect you, too.”
Her tummy dipped at his words and Liz almost simpered in giddy delight. “Is that what we are?” she murmured in wonder, “Are we together?”
Now it was Max’s turn to blush awkwardly. “Yeah…I mean…I think so,” he stuttered lamely, “I consider you my girlfriend even though we haven’t taken the official steps or anything.”
Her stomach flipped yet again and filled with a warm, fluttery sensation. “You consider me your girlfriend?” Liz knew she was repeating everything he said like some big, dumb idiot but she was helpless to stop herself. It was like her mind had gone to pure mush. She couldn’t form a coherent thought if she wanted to. All she could focus on was his amazing eyes boring down into hers, a breathtaking mix of green and brown and gold and…heaven. Liz felt like she was falling into those eyes.
Max skated his fingertips over her chin, her lips, the graceful jut of her cheekbone. “Liz, you know how much you mean to me,” he whispered.
“Sometimes I forget,” Liz whispered back. She dipped her eyes deliberately to his mouth before lifting them to his gaze once again. “Maybe you could give me a refresher.”
He didn’t think about kissing her this time. Max just did it. Sliding his fingers into the silken length of her hair to cradle her face, Max brushed his lips against hers gently, his breath feathering her mouth in wispy forays. Their eyes connected for a brief, telling moment before lids sank closed once more. Max swept his thumb along the pouty fullness of her lower lip before replacing his fingers with his mouth, angling his head so that he could enjoy a more thorough taste of her. As he slanted his mouth across hers the kiss invariably deepened, blossomed from tentative exploration into gentle insistence.
Their kiss wasn’t untamed or overwhelming but it was thick with passion all the same. Liz bunched her fingers into the soft material of his t-shirt, pulling him closer, sucking him deeper. She felt dizzy, exhilarated, her senses flooded with his taste and scent and touch. She never wanted it to end, this nibbling, sucking…devouring of her soul.
But it did end. The feel of her delicate fingers creeping beneath his shirt jarred Max like an electric shock and he reared back with a heavy gasp. His eyes were swirling pools of desire and need as he stared down into her gaze.
Liz nuzzled against his mouth and chin. “Please, don’t say it shouldn’t have happened,” she implored sweetly.
Max tucked her head beneath his chin and stroked the shiny, dark length of her hair. “I wasn’t going to say that,” he replied gruffly.
“You…you don’t regret it?” Liz inquired cautiously. She was still basking in the floating afterglow of that kiss and her heart would just crumble completely if he regretted a single part of it.
“It’s the best damned thing that’s happened to me in a long time,” Max declared deeply, “Aside from the baby I mean.”
Liz tossed him a dazzling smile. “Really?”
He kissed her again, brief but sizzling with electricity. “God, what took me so long,” he murmured to himself, his eyes skimming over her beautiful features in reverent awe. Their mouths found each another yet again, making slow, breathless love. By the time they broke apart Max’s breathing was so serrated he could hardly form words, but still he found the wherewithal to lay his heart bare to her. “I love you, Liz.” She wanted to say the words in return but found her throat was so constricted that she could do little more than reply with a jerky nod. Understanding the emotion overtaking her at the moment Max seized the opportunity to speak the words that were ten years in coming. “I’ve loved you since I was a boy, Liz…back when I thought girls were icky and gross. But I never thought you were icky and gross. You were my haven, my home. You were the first person I would run to when something went down with my dad. Not Michael…you. You’re the only person who ever really knew me.”
Her tears spilled over then, dampening the front of his t-shirt. She splayed her hand across his heart, marveling at how his heart beat in time with her own. The sound was marvelous, mesmerizing…symbolic of what they were becoming: one heart, one soul…forever. Liz rubbed her cheek against his chest. “What are you going to do about your dad?” she asked. Liz felt him smile into her hair at the question. She did know him better than anyone else. There was no way Max would wait an entire month to see Philip Evans.
“I was thinking I would ask my boss for off on next weekend so that I could fly down and visit him,” Max said and then there was a beat of silence before he added, a thread of hope sewn into his tone, “I was wondering if you’d go with me.”
The smile she favored him with was glamorous, laughing, and so full of love it almost hurt to look at her. “You didn’t even have to ask.”
-
Deejonaise
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2002 12:48 am
- Location: On my rusty dusty...
Chapter Sixty-One
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Max asked in concern as he ushered Liz through the airport terminal, “You look really pale.” Before she could answer he was already steering her over to a nearby bench where she could sit down.
“Max, stop mad cowing,” Liz admonished, swatting him away, “I’m just a little dizzy.”
“Maybe you should eat something,” he suggested worriedly, “You’re exhausted. You slept the entire time on the plane.”
Liz cupped his cheek, as inordinately pleased by his protective concern as she was annoyed by it. “That’s what pregnant women do, Max…they sleep. Besides, I’ve been eating all day, Max,” she replied gently, “Really, I’m fine. I got a little dizzy coming off the plane…that’s all.”
“I don’t know,” he debated, “Maybe we should call Dr. Bedford just to be sure.” He brushed sweet kisses across her forehead, her eyes, cheeks and mouth, his expression full of regret and worry. “God, I knew I shouldn’t have asked you along on this trip,” he muttered under his breath, “It was too much.”
She clamped her hand over his mouth to silence his self-deprecating ramble. “Max, I’m fine,” she stressed firmly, “You’ve got to stop worrying so much…otherwise you’ll have a head full of gray hair before you’re even twenty.” She slid her hand from his mouth, but quickly replaced it with her lips to staunch his reply. But her efforts to shut him up quickly became something passionate when Max plunged his fingers into the hair at her nape and pulled her closer for a deeper kiss.
Liz felt a new wave of dizziness assail her, but this time for a completely different reason. Just the feel of Max’s lips caressing her own made Liz lightheaded. Had she not been sitting in the first place she might her legs would have folded from beneath her. Max’s kisses had the power to tilt her world…literally. Liz couldn’t understand her reaction at all.
There had been plenty of times when she and Max had kissed, especially in those days during Spring Break. But those kisses were nothing compared to the ones they shared now. The kisses they shared now were deeper, needier, one hundred times more meaningful. Perhaps because this time they had entered into the relationship of their own accord…this time they were ready for total commitment. And that was exactly what Max’s kisses symbolized to Liz; total commitment. Liz didn’t have a single doubt that she alone claimed Max’s heart. He told her so with every look, every touch…every kiss.
An eternity seemed to crawl by as the two of them sat there, wrapped in one another’s arms just kissing and kissing like there was no tomorrow. But then time rarely mattered anymore when they were together…not lately anyway. It didn’t even matter that they hadn’t yet made love. For both Liz and Max that lack of physical intimacy was but a small detail. They were so in love with each other, so eager to make up for lost time and lost opportunities that the fact they weren’t yet sleeping together seemed rather minor. They had plenty of time, the rest of their lives really and they acted like it.
When they finally broke apart from one another their lips were swollen, wet, and quivering with enamored smiles. “You’ve got to stop kissing me like that in public,” Liz admonished Max breathlessly between feathery kisses.
“You’ve got to stop making me want to kiss you in public,” Max countered, pushing her hair from her eyes, “Besides you kissed me, remember?”
“Yeah, but that was just to shut you up,” she replied. Liz nuzzled against his cheek, which quickly earned her another thorough kiss. “Stop,” she laughed into his mouth a moment later when she felt him playing at the plunging neckline of her shirt. She batted his hands away. “You’re being bad.”
“Glad to see you two are getting along so well.” Max and Liz whipped apart at the unexpected sound of Isabel Evans’ laughing voice above their heads. Neither could quite suppress their blushes of dismay as they stood to greet her. They both caught glimpses of Isabel’s laughing brown eyes as they did. “When you said you wanted to surprise Mom and Dad with a visit I didn’t expect you were bringing a friend with you,” Isabel told her brother as she enfolded her brother in a hug.
“Liz and I are together now.” There was no flourish to his words, no apology or excuse. He stated it as mere fact and in a tone that dared her to contradict him or say anything remotely negative.
“I think I figured out that much on my own,” Isabel returned wryly.
“Are you okay with it?” Liz asked tentatively, unable to read Isabel’s expression. She couldn’t tell if her former best friend was happy or…disappointed. “It’s not a problem, is it?”
“It doesn’t really matter what I think, does it?” Isabel evaded.
“That’s right…it doesn’t,” Max agreed but without any real harshness. He reached forward and took hold of Liz’s hand. “If you can’t be happy for us then kindly keep your opinions to yourself, Isabel.”
Isabel rolled her eyes. “Well, of course I’m happy for you, Max,” she sighed wearily, “I just wonder how this news is going to hit the parental units, that’s all.”
“They’ll just have to deal with it, too,” Max muttered stubbornly.
“O…kay,” Isabel puffed out and then, because she didn’t want heavy conversation to overcast her brother’s homecoming, she added lightly, “So is this all your stuff?” She nodded to the small carry on Max held at his side.
“No, we’ve got two more bags at the baggage claim,” Max told his sister, “We had to sit down because Liz felt dizzy.”
Isabel’s eyes widened immediately when she remembered the reason that Liz might be dizzy. In an automatic reaction her eyes traveled down the length of Liz’s body, zeroing in on the nearly imperceptible swell of her belly. “You’re hardly showing at all,” she whispered, “It’s almost easy to forget you’re pregnant.” Her facial expression became reverently humble as she crept closer. “Do you mind?” she asked Liz, already pressing her hand towards Liz’s abdomen. Liz nodded in answer, holding her breath as Isabel laid a trembling hand against her belly. The three of them stood that way together for a long time, Isabel with her hand pressed against Liz’s stomach and Max beaming over the two of them.
Finally, Isabel croaked, “Oh my God…it’s really true, isn’t it? I’m going to be an aunt.” She lifted her shining eyes to Liz. “Have you felt it kick yet?”
“Dr. Bedford says she’s still too small,” Max answered, “She says a few more weeks though and Liz should be able to feel her.”
“Her?” Isabel removed her hand with great reluctance. “It’s a girl?”
“No, we don’t know yet,” Liz explained, favoring Max with an eye-rolling smile of reprimand, “We want a girl but we won’t know the sex for sure until the ultrasound.”
“When is that?” Isabel wondered.
“At about twenty weeks,” Liz told her, “That means we have about six more to go.” She patted her belly affectionately. “Not much longer now.”
It wasn’t until after they had reclaimed their bags and made it to Isabel’s car that Liz’s initial happiness over arriving back in Roswell began to give way to dread. Liz didn’t want to be a pessimist but she couldn’t stop herself from reflecting on how past conversations with Max’s father hadn’t always gone smoothly. Max had taken quite a bit of time to claw his way up from that pit of self-despair he’d fallen into after Tess’ attack. He had finally learned to like himself again. However, Liz knew it would take only one callous remark from his father to knock him right back in again. Her heart thundering with trepidation, Liz settled into the back seat and listened to Max and Isabel’s conversation up front.
“So how is he?” Max asked with false casualness.
“Much better than before,” Isabel replied cheerfully, “He’s regained some use of his left side but he still has a long way to go in therapy. Dad’s pretty much confined to the bed right now.”
“That must be driving him crazy,” Max muttered. Liz knew he was remembering all those times when he was younger and Philip Evans had always been too busy to stand still, much less lie down. Too busy to play, too busy for homework, too busy for a hug…always too busy.
“At first it did,” Isabel answered honestly, “Right after his stroke he couldn’t even talk at all and then, when he could, all he did was rant and curse.”
“That sounds more like the dad I know,” Max commented acridly.
“He’s calmed down since,” Isabel told him. Max’s response was a disbelieving snort. Isabel tried again. “He asks about you all the time…you and the baby.” He didn’t respond to that comment at all. Isabel heaved a defeated sigh. “So tell me about you and Liz,” she inquired gamely, “What happened?”
Max swiveled in his seat to favor Liz with a soft smile. Liz smiled back, blushing a little under his intense stare. “We fell in love,” he whispered in answer.
Isabel swallowed back her answering chuckle. “I wasn’t aware that you two had fallen out of it,” she remarked wryly.
His eyes were still locked with Liz’s when Max replied, “I guess you’re right about that, Isabel…I never did fall out of it.” Max and Liz were still exchanging sappy smiles of love when Isabel pulled into their parents’ six-car garage. She was reluctant to interrupt their silence conversation and so Isabel cleared her throat very softly. However, that small sound was still enough to redirect Max and Liz’s attention. “We’re here,” she announced inanely.
The moment the words were voiced aloud Max found himself frozen with fear. Suddenly, the notion to drop in on his parents so unexpectedly didn’t seem as good an idea as before. Perhaps he should have called first…perhaps his mother had been right when she suggested he wait…perhaps--. Max caught himself in mid-thought. He hadn’t even taken a step from the car and already he was second-guessing his decision to come to Roswell unannounced.
“Max, are you okay?” Liz asked softly, placing a comforting hand against his shoulder, “I’ll be with you, baby.” He reached up and squeezed her fingers, a smile touching the corners of his eyes. “I know,” he whispered before pressing an ardent kiss to her fingertips. He sucked in a fortifying breath. “Let’s do this.”
Max was wholly unprepared to see his mother after so much time. He hardly even recognized her at first. Her once wheat blond locks were streaked through with enormous clumps of gray now. She seemed to have aged twenty years in the last two months. The moment she turned to face them when they entered the sunroom Max had to blink back the tears of guilt and sadness that sprang to his eyes at the sight of her.
Diane actually swayed when she saw him. With one trembling hand she gripped the back of a nearby chair while the other fluttered to her mouth in order to stifle her sobs. “Oh my God…” she uttered thickly.
“I…I know you weren’t expecting me,” Max stammered out nervously as his mother drifted towards him. In a reflex action he groped out blindly for Liz’s hand and held onto her fingers in a crushing grip. Isabel hung back, sensing the emotional moment and endeavoring not to intrude. “Is…is it okay that I’m…I’m here?” Max asked haltingly.
“Oh my God,” Diane Evans whispered again in pure shock. She started to raise her hand to caress her son’s stubbled cheek but let her fingers drop at the last minute when she glimpsed the panicked expression in his eyes. Max was evidently not ready for her touch. Diane pressed her fists into her mid-section, forcing a wobbly smile. “You look different,” she remarked gruffly, “You need a haircut.”
“So Liz has been telling me,” Max replied with an awkward smile.
Diane’s eyes lit on Liz then. She noticed immediately how closely Liz was pressed against her son’s side as well as their clasped hands. It was readily apparent that the two of them were together but after the hell she and Philip had put them through Diane didn’t feel quite free to express her delight or impose her curiosity. Instead she kept her features carefully neutral as she offered Liz a nod of greeting. “It’s good to have you here, Liz,” Diane said sincerely.
Liz chanced an uncertain look at Max before replying, “Thank you, Mrs. Evans…I…I wanted to be here for Max…”
“Of course, you did, dear,” Diane agreed quietly. An awkward moment followed as Diane openly and hungrily studied the son she had not seen in more than a month. He was much thinner than she remembered but he appeared healthy nonetheless. Very tanned and very toned….very happy. And with his five o’clock shadow and shaggy dark hair he hardly resembled her baby boy anymore. It was the first time Diane could ever remember seeing him as a man. She supposed it was long past time that she started treating him like one. “I assume you’ve come to see your father,” she surmised quietly.
“If that’s okay,” Max said.
“It’s absolutely okay,” Diane reassured him, “I know he’ll be glad to see you.”
“Can I see him now?”
“Well, actually he’s napping at the moment.” However, at Max’s crestfallen expression Diane quickly added, “I can wake him if you want.”
“No,” Max protested, “I know he needs his rest and it kinda works out for the better anyway. Liz and I still haven’t found a hotel for the night.”
“A hotel?” Diane echoed, “You don’t have to stay in a hotel, Max! You’re welcome to stay right here at the house.” But then she noticed the look of unease that passed over Max’s face. “Or maybe you’d prefer not to stay here,” she amended sadly.
That wasn’t the reason for Max’s reluctance at all. At present he was more concerned about the sleeping arrangements than the prospect of spending the night in his parents’ home. Max knew that it hadn’t escaped his mother’s notice that he and Liz were a couple again. That being the case she might assume that they would prefer one bedroom instead of two. Though Max was more than ready to take that step with Liz he wasn’t quite sure if she felt the same. Before Liz had been rather aggressive about her feelings and desires but since he’d asked her to go slow she had cooled down considerably. Max couldn’t help but wonder if her desire to sleep with him had cooled down as well. And if that were the case the situation would be made even more awkward if they had to share a room together.
On the other hand, if his mother didn’t put them in the same room and Max made no fuss over it Liz might mistakenly assume that he didn’t want to sleep with her at all. It wasn’t that this trip with her had remotely anything to do with seduction but they had progressed so much as a couple in the last few weeks and Max had no desire to regress. He didn’t want Liz doubting his feelings for her in the slightest.
With all those different thoughts tumbling through his mind, Max earnestly asked his mother, “Can you give me a little time to talk things over with Liz and see how she feels about it?” Diane nodded her consent and she and Isabel faded off into the far corner of the sunroom while he and Liz shared a private word.
“So what do you think?” Max asked Liz anxiously when his mother and sister were out of earshot.
“Do you want to stay here?” Liz countered, “I mean if this is awkward for you…”
“I’m more worried if it’s awkward for you,” he interrupted gently, “My mom’s probably gonna put us in my old room, you know.”
It only took Liz a few moments to realize the implication of what he was saying and that was only a millisecond after she understood that he was consulting her before making his decision. She was still reeling from that realization as it dawned on her that she and Max would be sharing one room; specifically one bed. His statement, she understood, was his way of asking if she had a problem with that. Liz almost burst out laughing at the thought. A teasing smile playing at the corners of her lips, Liz lightly fingered the lapels of Max’s shirt. “I think I’d be perfectly fine sleeping in your old room,” she replied demurely.
Max bent his head to brush Liz’s lips with a relieved kiss, his eyes locking with hers briefly as he pulled away. Both of them realized that, whether they made love during their stay or not, their relationship had deepened irrevocably and for the better. “I’ll just tell Mom that we’re staying then,” he said quietly.
Liz’s appreciative gaze slid over Max’s hips and buttocks as he sauntered over to his mother and sister, a concupiscent smile curving her mouth. Just watching him talk softly with his family made Liz wish she could freeze that moment for all eternity just so she could stare at him until her heart’s content. He was that beautiful to her right then. And he was hers. After waiting for so long…Max Evans was finally hers.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Max asked in concern as he ushered Liz through the airport terminal, “You look really pale.” Before she could answer he was already steering her over to a nearby bench where she could sit down.
“Max, stop mad cowing,” Liz admonished, swatting him away, “I’m just a little dizzy.”
“Maybe you should eat something,” he suggested worriedly, “You’re exhausted. You slept the entire time on the plane.”
Liz cupped his cheek, as inordinately pleased by his protective concern as she was annoyed by it. “That’s what pregnant women do, Max…they sleep. Besides, I’ve been eating all day, Max,” she replied gently, “Really, I’m fine. I got a little dizzy coming off the plane…that’s all.”
“I don’t know,” he debated, “Maybe we should call Dr. Bedford just to be sure.” He brushed sweet kisses across her forehead, her eyes, cheeks and mouth, his expression full of regret and worry. “God, I knew I shouldn’t have asked you along on this trip,” he muttered under his breath, “It was too much.”
She clamped her hand over his mouth to silence his self-deprecating ramble. “Max, I’m fine,” she stressed firmly, “You’ve got to stop worrying so much…otherwise you’ll have a head full of gray hair before you’re even twenty.” She slid her hand from his mouth, but quickly replaced it with her lips to staunch his reply. But her efforts to shut him up quickly became something passionate when Max plunged his fingers into the hair at her nape and pulled her closer for a deeper kiss.
Liz felt a new wave of dizziness assail her, but this time for a completely different reason. Just the feel of Max’s lips caressing her own made Liz lightheaded. Had she not been sitting in the first place she might her legs would have folded from beneath her. Max’s kisses had the power to tilt her world…literally. Liz couldn’t understand her reaction at all.
There had been plenty of times when she and Max had kissed, especially in those days during Spring Break. But those kisses were nothing compared to the ones they shared now. The kisses they shared now were deeper, needier, one hundred times more meaningful. Perhaps because this time they had entered into the relationship of their own accord…this time they were ready for total commitment. And that was exactly what Max’s kisses symbolized to Liz; total commitment. Liz didn’t have a single doubt that she alone claimed Max’s heart. He told her so with every look, every touch…every kiss.
An eternity seemed to crawl by as the two of them sat there, wrapped in one another’s arms just kissing and kissing like there was no tomorrow. But then time rarely mattered anymore when they were together…not lately anyway. It didn’t even matter that they hadn’t yet made love. For both Liz and Max that lack of physical intimacy was but a small detail. They were so in love with each other, so eager to make up for lost time and lost opportunities that the fact they weren’t yet sleeping together seemed rather minor. They had plenty of time, the rest of their lives really and they acted like it.
When they finally broke apart from one another their lips were swollen, wet, and quivering with enamored smiles. “You’ve got to stop kissing me like that in public,” Liz admonished Max breathlessly between feathery kisses.
“You’ve got to stop making me want to kiss you in public,” Max countered, pushing her hair from her eyes, “Besides you kissed me, remember?”
“Yeah, but that was just to shut you up,” she replied. Liz nuzzled against his cheek, which quickly earned her another thorough kiss. “Stop,” she laughed into his mouth a moment later when she felt him playing at the plunging neckline of her shirt. She batted his hands away. “You’re being bad.”
“Glad to see you two are getting along so well.” Max and Liz whipped apart at the unexpected sound of Isabel Evans’ laughing voice above their heads. Neither could quite suppress their blushes of dismay as they stood to greet her. They both caught glimpses of Isabel’s laughing brown eyes as they did. “When you said you wanted to surprise Mom and Dad with a visit I didn’t expect you were bringing a friend with you,” Isabel told her brother as she enfolded her brother in a hug.
“Liz and I are together now.” There was no flourish to his words, no apology or excuse. He stated it as mere fact and in a tone that dared her to contradict him or say anything remotely negative.
“I think I figured out that much on my own,” Isabel returned wryly.
“Are you okay with it?” Liz asked tentatively, unable to read Isabel’s expression. She couldn’t tell if her former best friend was happy or…disappointed. “It’s not a problem, is it?”
“It doesn’t really matter what I think, does it?” Isabel evaded.
“That’s right…it doesn’t,” Max agreed but without any real harshness. He reached forward and took hold of Liz’s hand. “If you can’t be happy for us then kindly keep your opinions to yourself, Isabel.”
Isabel rolled her eyes. “Well, of course I’m happy for you, Max,” she sighed wearily, “I just wonder how this news is going to hit the parental units, that’s all.”
“They’ll just have to deal with it, too,” Max muttered stubbornly.
“O…kay,” Isabel puffed out and then, because she didn’t want heavy conversation to overcast her brother’s homecoming, she added lightly, “So is this all your stuff?” She nodded to the small carry on Max held at his side.
“No, we’ve got two more bags at the baggage claim,” Max told his sister, “We had to sit down because Liz felt dizzy.”
Isabel’s eyes widened immediately when she remembered the reason that Liz might be dizzy. In an automatic reaction her eyes traveled down the length of Liz’s body, zeroing in on the nearly imperceptible swell of her belly. “You’re hardly showing at all,” she whispered, “It’s almost easy to forget you’re pregnant.” Her facial expression became reverently humble as she crept closer. “Do you mind?” she asked Liz, already pressing her hand towards Liz’s abdomen. Liz nodded in answer, holding her breath as Isabel laid a trembling hand against her belly. The three of them stood that way together for a long time, Isabel with her hand pressed against Liz’s stomach and Max beaming over the two of them.
Finally, Isabel croaked, “Oh my God…it’s really true, isn’t it? I’m going to be an aunt.” She lifted her shining eyes to Liz. “Have you felt it kick yet?”
“Dr. Bedford says she’s still too small,” Max answered, “She says a few more weeks though and Liz should be able to feel her.”
“Her?” Isabel removed her hand with great reluctance. “It’s a girl?”
“No, we don’t know yet,” Liz explained, favoring Max with an eye-rolling smile of reprimand, “We want a girl but we won’t know the sex for sure until the ultrasound.”
“When is that?” Isabel wondered.
“At about twenty weeks,” Liz told her, “That means we have about six more to go.” She patted her belly affectionately. “Not much longer now.”
It wasn’t until after they had reclaimed their bags and made it to Isabel’s car that Liz’s initial happiness over arriving back in Roswell began to give way to dread. Liz didn’t want to be a pessimist but she couldn’t stop herself from reflecting on how past conversations with Max’s father hadn’t always gone smoothly. Max had taken quite a bit of time to claw his way up from that pit of self-despair he’d fallen into after Tess’ attack. He had finally learned to like himself again. However, Liz knew it would take only one callous remark from his father to knock him right back in again. Her heart thundering with trepidation, Liz settled into the back seat and listened to Max and Isabel’s conversation up front.
“So how is he?” Max asked with false casualness.
“Much better than before,” Isabel replied cheerfully, “He’s regained some use of his left side but he still has a long way to go in therapy. Dad’s pretty much confined to the bed right now.”
“That must be driving him crazy,” Max muttered. Liz knew he was remembering all those times when he was younger and Philip Evans had always been too busy to stand still, much less lie down. Too busy to play, too busy for homework, too busy for a hug…always too busy.
“At first it did,” Isabel answered honestly, “Right after his stroke he couldn’t even talk at all and then, when he could, all he did was rant and curse.”
“That sounds more like the dad I know,” Max commented acridly.
“He’s calmed down since,” Isabel told him. Max’s response was a disbelieving snort. Isabel tried again. “He asks about you all the time…you and the baby.” He didn’t respond to that comment at all. Isabel heaved a defeated sigh. “So tell me about you and Liz,” she inquired gamely, “What happened?”
Max swiveled in his seat to favor Liz with a soft smile. Liz smiled back, blushing a little under his intense stare. “We fell in love,” he whispered in answer.
Isabel swallowed back her answering chuckle. “I wasn’t aware that you two had fallen out of it,” she remarked wryly.
His eyes were still locked with Liz’s when Max replied, “I guess you’re right about that, Isabel…I never did fall out of it.” Max and Liz were still exchanging sappy smiles of love when Isabel pulled into their parents’ six-car garage. She was reluctant to interrupt their silence conversation and so Isabel cleared her throat very softly. However, that small sound was still enough to redirect Max and Liz’s attention. “We’re here,” she announced inanely.
The moment the words were voiced aloud Max found himself frozen with fear. Suddenly, the notion to drop in on his parents so unexpectedly didn’t seem as good an idea as before. Perhaps he should have called first…perhaps his mother had been right when she suggested he wait…perhaps--. Max caught himself in mid-thought. He hadn’t even taken a step from the car and already he was second-guessing his decision to come to Roswell unannounced.
“Max, are you okay?” Liz asked softly, placing a comforting hand against his shoulder, “I’ll be with you, baby.” He reached up and squeezed her fingers, a smile touching the corners of his eyes. “I know,” he whispered before pressing an ardent kiss to her fingertips. He sucked in a fortifying breath. “Let’s do this.”
Max was wholly unprepared to see his mother after so much time. He hardly even recognized her at first. Her once wheat blond locks were streaked through with enormous clumps of gray now. She seemed to have aged twenty years in the last two months. The moment she turned to face them when they entered the sunroom Max had to blink back the tears of guilt and sadness that sprang to his eyes at the sight of her.
Diane actually swayed when she saw him. With one trembling hand she gripped the back of a nearby chair while the other fluttered to her mouth in order to stifle her sobs. “Oh my God…” she uttered thickly.
“I…I know you weren’t expecting me,” Max stammered out nervously as his mother drifted towards him. In a reflex action he groped out blindly for Liz’s hand and held onto her fingers in a crushing grip. Isabel hung back, sensing the emotional moment and endeavoring not to intrude. “Is…is it okay that I’m…I’m here?” Max asked haltingly.
“Oh my God,” Diane Evans whispered again in pure shock. She started to raise her hand to caress her son’s stubbled cheek but let her fingers drop at the last minute when she glimpsed the panicked expression in his eyes. Max was evidently not ready for her touch. Diane pressed her fists into her mid-section, forcing a wobbly smile. “You look different,” she remarked gruffly, “You need a haircut.”
“So Liz has been telling me,” Max replied with an awkward smile.
Diane’s eyes lit on Liz then. She noticed immediately how closely Liz was pressed against her son’s side as well as their clasped hands. It was readily apparent that the two of them were together but after the hell she and Philip had put them through Diane didn’t feel quite free to express her delight or impose her curiosity. Instead she kept her features carefully neutral as she offered Liz a nod of greeting. “It’s good to have you here, Liz,” Diane said sincerely.
Liz chanced an uncertain look at Max before replying, “Thank you, Mrs. Evans…I…I wanted to be here for Max…”
“Of course, you did, dear,” Diane agreed quietly. An awkward moment followed as Diane openly and hungrily studied the son she had not seen in more than a month. He was much thinner than she remembered but he appeared healthy nonetheless. Very tanned and very toned….very happy. And with his five o’clock shadow and shaggy dark hair he hardly resembled her baby boy anymore. It was the first time Diane could ever remember seeing him as a man. She supposed it was long past time that she started treating him like one. “I assume you’ve come to see your father,” she surmised quietly.
“If that’s okay,” Max said.
“It’s absolutely okay,” Diane reassured him, “I know he’ll be glad to see you.”
“Can I see him now?”
“Well, actually he’s napping at the moment.” However, at Max’s crestfallen expression Diane quickly added, “I can wake him if you want.”
“No,” Max protested, “I know he needs his rest and it kinda works out for the better anyway. Liz and I still haven’t found a hotel for the night.”
“A hotel?” Diane echoed, “You don’t have to stay in a hotel, Max! You’re welcome to stay right here at the house.” But then she noticed the look of unease that passed over Max’s face. “Or maybe you’d prefer not to stay here,” she amended sadly.
That wasn’t the reason for Max’s reluctance at all. At present he was more concerned about the sleeping arrangements than the prospect of spending the night in his parents’ home. Max knew that it hadn’t escaped his mother’s notice that he and Liz were a couple again. That being the case she might assume that they would prefer one bedroom instead of two. Though Max was more than ready to take that step with Liz he wasn’t quite sure if she felt the same. Before Liz had been rather aggressive about her feelings and desires but since he’d asked her to go slow she had cooled down considerably. Max couldn’t help but wonder if her desire to sleep with him had cooled down as well. And if that were the case the situation would be made even more awkward if they had to share a room together.
On the other hand, if his mother didn’t put them in the same room and Max made no fuss over it Liz might mistakenly assume that he didn’t want to sleep with her at all. It wasn’t that this trip with her had remotely anything to do with seduction but they had progressed so much as a couple in the last few weeks and Max had no desire to regress. He didn’t want Liz doubting his feelings for her in the slightest.
With all those different thoughts tumbling through his mind, Max earnestly asked his mother, “Can you give me a little time to talk things over with Liz and see how she feels about it?” Diane nodded her consent and she and Isabel faded off into the far corner of the sunroom while he and Liz shared a private word.
“So what do you think?” Max asked Liz anxiously when his mother and sister were out of earshot.
“Do you want to stay here?” Liz countered, “I mean if this is awkward for you…”
“I’m more worried if it’s awkward for you,” he interrupted gently, “My mom’s probably gonna put us in my old room, you know.”
It only took Liz a few moments to realize the implication of what he was saying and that was only a millisecond after she understood that he was consulting her before making his decision. She was still reeling from that realization as it dawned on her that she and Max would be sharing one room; specifically one bed. His statement, she understood, was his way of asking if she had a problem with that. Liz almost burst out laughing at the thought. A teasing smile playing at the corners of her lips, Liz lightly fingered the lapels of Max’s shirt. “I think I’d be perfectly fine sleeping in your old room,” she replied demurely.
Max bent his head to brush Liz’s lips with a relieved kiss, his eyes locking with hers briefly as he pulled away. Both of them realized that, whether they made love during their stay or not, their relationship had deepened irrevocably and for the better. “I’ll just tell Mom that we’re staying then,” he said quietly.
Liz’s appreciative gaze slid over Max’s hips and buttocks as he sauntered over to his mother and sister, a concupiscent smile curving her mouth. Just watching him talk softly with his family made Liz wish she could freeze that moment for all eternity just so she could stare at him until her heart’s content. He was that beautiful to her right then. And he was hers. After waiting for so long…Max Evans was finally hers.
-
Deejonaise
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2002 12:48 am
- Location: On my rusty dusty...
Chapter Sixty-Two
The bedroom was horribly dim as Max crept inside. “Dad?” he whispered into the darkness, “Dad, are you awake?”
He and Liz had spent the last two hours with his mother and sister. Talking with his mother hadn’t been quite as uncomfortable as Max had imagined it would be. He had thought that he would spend much of his trip skating over his emotions or suppressing them altogether. Max received the shock of his life when his mother actually encouraged him to speak what was on his mind. He hadn’t even been aware of the depth of rage within him until all the words came flying out of his mouth.
When it was over he felt spent, trembling, but strangely at peace as well. He could look at his mother without resentment simmering in his blood. And his mother’s humble acceptance of every thing he said and felt definitely made it easier to let go of the pain. True to her word Diane Evans didn’t try and make excuses for herself or rationalize her behavior in any way. Max was grateful for that. In his mind, nothing would ever justify their turning away from him. It would be much easier for Max to simply forgive and forget and move on. With his mother the decision had been almost alarmingly simple, however, Max feared that forgiving his father would prove ten times more complicated.
That was the very thought whirring through his mind as he approached his father’s hospital cot. He almost gagged at the smell in the room. Where once his parents’ bedroom had smelled of his father’s spicy aftershave now the scent hovering in the air was medicinal, astringent, completely abhorrent. But the smell was only the tip of it, seeing his father so gaunt, so broken in that hospital bed caused a bubble of sorrow to lodge in Max’s chest.
He fell to his knees beside the bed, his anger inexplicably forgotten, and swept up his father’s limp hand. “Dad?” he whispered again, “Dad, can you hear me?”
Philip Evans rolled open his eyes at the whispered sound of his name. However, his eyes misted over immediately when he realized who exactly was calling him. “I didn’t…think you would…come,” he slurred out tiredly.
“I thought about it,” Max admitted thickly, “But it just seemed wrong.”
Philip gave his son’s hand a feeble squeeze. “Glad you’re here,” he panted, “I have…a lot to explain to you…”
“Dad, don’t think about it,” Max scolded him gently, “I want you to rest…”
“You…deserve an…explanation…”
“Dad, please. I didn’t come in here to do this with you--,”
“I…hated…my dad,” Philip pressed on doggedly, “He was…always riding me…always on my back… I pushed…my way through school…through college…just to get away from the son of a bitch--,”
“Why are you telling me this?” Max wondered quietly. He couldn’t remember ever hearing his father speak about his grandfather. Phillip Maxwell Evans Senior had died when Max was only four years old. Max had learned rather early not to ask questions about his late grandfather but he couldn’t quite remember when or from whom. He only knew that no one in the Evans household ever spoke about Philip Evans Senior. For Max it hadn’t been too terrible a loss. He’d hardly known his grandfather in the first place so his death hadn’t left a great, gaping whole in Max’s life. But obviously it wasn’t the same for his father. Philip Evans was still struggling with his father’s ghost.
Philip stared up at Max with cloudy eyes. “He was always a hard ass,” Philip said thickly, “Never treated me like a son…but like an invention…a machine…” His words created an abundance of conflicting emotions churning right beneath the surface then, but he sensed his father was about to reveal something quite important to him and so he kept silent. “It…it wasn’t until after the stroke…” his dad whispered, “that I realized…I had done the same thing to you.”
“If you hated your dad for treating you like he did, why you turn around and treat me the same way?” Max demanded but without any real heat. He was more hurt and torn apart by his father’s revelation than angry.
“It…was…the only way I knew,” Philip mumbled, “Though I hated the bastard…he’s the reason I’m who I am today…he’s the reason…”
“You say that like it’s a good thing, Dad, and it’s not! You sucked!” Max snapped. Despite his harsh words, however, Max continued to hold onto his father’s hand. That was the moment Max realized that despite all the angry betrayal he felt he still loved his father a great deal. He was still secretly yearning that his father could love him in return. But now that he’d taken the first step towards honesty it was impossible to staunch the flow of truth from his lips. “You were a lousy husband to Mom and an even lousier father to us!” he accused, “You never made any time for any of us because you were always too busy with work! And then you turn around and expect me to make a good husband to Liz and then punish me because I didn’t? Look at the fucking example I had!”
“I…I was thinking about my company,” Philip explained, “There was so much money at stake, Maxwell. I wanted you to understand that I couldn’t carry you forever.”
“That’s bullshit. You didn’t give a damn about me,” Max concluded acidly. He almost started to pull his hand away, but Philip caught his fingers in a surprisingly strong grip.
“You’re right,” Philip rushed out restlessly, “There’s no excuse for what I did. I was blinded by the money and…that was wrong. I understand that now…I want be here for you. I want to make it up...”
Max pried his hand from his father’s grasp and pushed away from the bed. “I’m a fucking grown man, Dad, with a child of my own on the way!” he cried, beginning to pace in small circles, “I needed you to be a father to me back then!”
“Didn’t you have clothes!” his father demanded gruffly, “A roof over your head? Food in your stomach? The best money could buy of everything! I provided all that, Max, because I loved you! You, Isabel and your mother had everything you could possibly want!”
“Except you,” Max intoned bitterly, “We never had you.” He laughed to himself, turning his face up towards the ceiling so that he could keep his tears from spilling over. “No wonder I identified with Tess so much,” he muttered, “I had her fucking life.”
“That girl was sick inside,” Philip remarked quietly, “You couldn’t help her.”
Max glared down at his father’s emaciated form, torn between aching pity and boiling anger. Even now while he was expressing genuine regret over what had happened Philip Evans still didn’t realize just how much he’d damaged his family with his indifference. “That’s right…I couldn’t, but do you know why I couldn’t, Dad? Do you know why Tess was sick?” Max asked his father softly, “It was because her father saw her as nothing more than a commodity…the same way you saw us.”
“Don’t say that,” his father reprimanded thickly, “I’m nothing like that man…”
“Aren’t you?”
“No!” Philip cried with amazing force, “He didn’t even care that his daughter was dead…he was too concerned with preserving his image and slandering yours. That man is cold inside, Maxwell…and I’m not like that. I thought I was but when you were shot…I had felt like my world had stopped.” Max watched as twin tears leaked from the corner of his father’s eye, rolling down his temple before absorbing into the pillow beneath his head. He looked away, unable to handle the bare emotion of his father’s face. “Despite what you think…I do love you.”
“You never acted like it,” Max whispered, “Now you want to have a second chance? You never even appreciated the first one.”
“If errors were what you watched for, oh God, who could stand?” Philip quoted softly.
Max whipped around to glare at his father. “What?” he hissed in a burning whisper.
“The Bible says that God doesn’t watch for our faults, Max,” he clarified softly, “Thank God…thank God,” he wept, “because I wouldn’t be able to stand.” He turned dark beseeching eyes toward his son. “I know I don’t deserve it, Max…but I need you to forgive me…please…”
For the moment Max ignored his father’s plea because he wasn’t at all sure if he was near the point of forgiveness. “You quoting the Bible to me?” he scoffed derisively, “What are you now? A born again Christian?”
His question actually made Philip smile a little. “I’m in this bed day in and day out,” he declared softly, “There’s little else to do.”
“And so you read the Bible?” Max demanded in disbelief.
“From cover to cover,” Philip confirmed, “And I’ve started again.”
“And what spiritual epiphany has come from all this reading,” Max asked tightly.
Philip sighed. “I learned God is forgiving,” he answered, “I learned that if you go to Him in prayer and you’re repentant…He will forgive you. I’ve asked God for His forgiveness, Max…now I’m asking for yours.”
Again Max had to look away for the emotion choking him. This Philip Evans was wholly unfamiliar to him, nothing at all like the belligerent and calculated man he’d grown to know. In his place was the soft-spoken, gentled old man begging for Max’s forgiveness, begging for his love. But Max wasn’t certain that he could give either. He was by no means as magnanimous as God though he should probably strive to be. The truth was that part of him wanted to be petty and selfish, to deny Philip the love and forgiveness he craved just as he had denied Max.
“Why should I forgive you?” Max queried aloud, “You were nothing to me the entire time I was growing up. You turned my mother against me. You took away my home, ruined my chances for school, took away my every security…and now you actually have the nerve to ask me for forgiveness?”
“I can never tell you how sorry I am,” Philip wept harshly, his words even more slurred and garbled by his tears. But Max understood his words anyway and they made him even more furious.
“Sorry?” he snorted, raking all ten fingers though his hair, “You’re sorry? Is that the magic band-aid word, Dad? Is all the hurt supposed to disappear now because you’re sorry, you bastard!”
“I deserve your hatred,” Philip whispered in reserve.
“You deserve more than that, old man!” Max countered, resuming his frantic, pacing circles, “But you know what’s ironic? After all, you’ve done you haven’t lost a single thing! Not your wife, not your daughter or your company, not even me! I actually still love your sorry ass!”
“Maxwell--,”
The tender, loving quality with which his father uttered his name stopped Max in his tracks. “I don’t want to love you,” Max said in a quivering tone, “I could have gone the rest of my life pretending you didn’t exist.”
“Is that really what you want?” his father asked him.
“What do you want?” Max demanded, answering his father’s question with a question, “Why the sudden change now? Why does your family matter so much to you now? Did you have a near death experience or something?”
“Yes,” Philip croaked emotionally. He lifted sparkling eyes up to his son’s irate ones. “Yours. That day you were shot was like a wake up call for me. When the doctor told us that he didn’t expect you to make it through the night…I felt like someone had crushed my heart.
“I tried to reach out to your mother,” he recounted, “But for the first time in our marriage she turned me away. I had never seen her look so cold.” Philip shuddered slightly with the memory. “She…she told me that…if you died she’d see me in hell… That’s when I finally understood what I had done…I had destroyed my own family…just like my dad destroyed his.”
Fresh tears pour from Philip’s eyes. “I didn’t want to die alone like my father,” he sobbed, “I didn’t want to lose what really mattered. My father died a wealthy man…but none of his children even attended his funeral. I don’t want that, Max…I don’t want that…”
Max plucked a tissue from the nearby nightstand and began sponging his father’s tear dampened face. “Let’s not talk about this anymore,” he urged Philip tenderly, “You don’t need to be upset like this.”
“You needed to hear these things,” Philip insisted weakly, “And so did I.”
“That might be true,” Max conceded neutrally, “But if we can’t talk about something else I’m going to have to leave you, Dad. You shouldn’t be upset.”
That was the last thing Philip wanted. He had been craving to see his son for so long he was unwilling to do anything that might drive Max away. “We’ll talk about something else,” Philip agreed quickly, “How have you been?”
“I’ve got a job bartending,” Max told his father.
“Bartending?”
“It’s good money,” Max said, “I can make $300 a night easy and I only work like four days a week.”
“Is that what you want for yourself,” Philip wondered, “To serve people drinks? What about med school?”
“I can’t afford med school,” Max answered succinctly.
“I can help y--,”
“I don’t want your help,” Max interrupted before his father could finish the sentence. But the hurt lurking in his father’s rheumy eyes soothed much of Max’s harshness. “Look, I don’t even know if med school was for me,” he sighed, “I wanted it mostly because I knew how much you hated it. I’m still figuring out what I want to do with my life.”
Philip digested his confession. “What about Liz and the baby?” he asked, “How will you support them bartending alone?”
“I’m doing a good job so far.” Philip’s gaze zigzagged to his face sharply. “Liz and I are living together,” Max clarified softly.
“Living together?” Philip echoed.
“We are together,” he amended flatly, “I’m not interested in your commentary on my personal life, Dad. Those days are over. This is just something you’re going to have to accept.”
“One of many things, hmm?” Philip prodded with a touch of regret.
“I guess so.”
The bedroom was horribly dim as Max crept inside. “Dad?” he whispered into the darkness, “Dad, are you awake?”
He and Liz had spent the last two hours with his mother and sister. Talking with his mother hadn’t been quite as uncomfortable as Max had imagined it would be. He had thought that he would spend much of his trip skating over his emotions or suppressing them altogether. Max received the shock of his life when his mother actually encouraged him to speak what was on his mind. He hadn’t even been aware of the depth of rage within him until all the words came flying out of his mouth.
When it was over he felt spent, trembling, but strangely at peace as well. He could look at his mother without resentment simmering in his blood. And his mother’s humble acceptance of every thing he said and felt definitely made it easier to let go of the pain. True to her word Diane Evans didn’t try and make excuses for herself or rationalize her behavior in any way. Max was grateful for that. In his mind, nothing would ever justify their turning away from him. It would be much easier for Max to simply forgive and forget and move on. With his mother the decision had been almost alarmingly simple, however, Max feared that forgiving his father would prove ten times more complicated.
That was the very thought whirring through his mind as he approached his father’s hospital cot. He almost gagged at the smell in the room. Where once his parents’ bedroom had smelled of his father’s spicy aftershave now the scent hovering in the air was medicinal, astringent, completely abhorrent. But the smell was only the tip of it, seeing his father so gaunt, so broken in that hospital bed caused a bubble of sorrow to lodge in Max’s chest.
He fell to his knees beside the bed, his anger inexplicably forgotten, and swept up his father’s limp hand. “Dad?” he whispered again, “Dad, can you hear me?”
Philip Evans rolled open his eyes at the whispered sound of his name. However, his eyes misted over immediately when he realized who exactly was calling him. “I didn’t…think you would…come,” he slurred out tiredly.
“I thought about it,” Max admitted thickly, “But it just seemed wrong.”
Philip gave his son’s hand a feeble squeeze. “Glad you’re here,” he panted, “I have…a lot to explain to you…”
“Dad, don’t think about it,” Max scolded him gently, “I want you to rest…”
“You…deserve an…explanation…”
“Dad, please. I didn’t come in here to do this with you--,”
“I…hated…my dad,” Philip pressed on doggedly, “He was…always riding me…always on my back… I pushed…my way through school…through college…just to get away from the son of a bitch--,”
“Why are you telling me this?” Max wondered quietly. He couldn’t remember ever hearing his father speak about his grandfather. Phillip Maxwell Evans Senior had died when Max was only four years old. Max had learned rather early not to ask questions about his late grandfather but he couldn’t quite remember when or from whom. He only knew that no one in the Evans household ever spoke about Philip Evans Senior. For Max it hadn’t been too terrible a loss. He’d hardly known his grandfather in the first place so his death hadn’t left a great, gaping whole in Max’s life. But obviously it wasn’t the same for his father. Philip Evans was still struggling with his father’s ghost.
Philip stared up at Max with cloudy eyes. “He was always a hard ass,” Philip said thickly, “Never treated me like a son…but like an invention…a machine…” His words created an abundance of conflicting emotions churning right beneath the surface then, but he sensed his father was about to reveal something quite important to him and so he kept silent. “It…it wasn’t until after the stroke…” his dad whispered, “that I realized…I had done the same thing to you.”
“If you hated your dad for treating you like he did, why you turn around and treat me the same way?” Max demanded but without any real heat. He was more hurt and torn apart by his father’s revelation than angry.
“It…was…the only way I knew,” Philip mumbled, “Though I hated the bastard…he’s the reason I’m who I am today…he’s the reason…”
“You say that like it’s a good thing, Dad, and it’s not! You sucked!” Max snapped. Despite his harsh words, however, Max continued to hold onto his father’s hand. That was the moment Max realized that despite all the angry betrayal he felt he still loved his father a great deal. He was still secretly yearning that his father could love him in return. But now that he’d taken the first step towards honesty it was impossible to staunch the flow of truth from his lips. “You were a lousy husband to Mom and an even lousier father to us!” he accused, “You never made any time for any of us because you were always too busy with work! And then you turn around and expect me to make a good husband to Liz and then punish me because I didn’t? Look at the fucking example I had!”
“I…I was thinking about my company,” Philip explained, “There was so much money at stake, Maxwell. I wanted you to understand that I couldn’t carry you forever.”
“That’s bullshit. You didn’t give a damn about me,” Max concluded acidly. He almost started to pull his hand away, but Philip caught his fingers in a surprisingly strong grip.
“You’re right,” Philip rushed out restlessly, “There’s no excuse for what I did. I was blinded by the money and…that was wrong. I understand that now…I want be here for you. I want to make it up...”
Max pried his hand from his father’s grasp and pushed away from the bed. “I’m a fucking grown man, Dad, with a child of my own on the way!” he cried, beginning to pace in small circles, “I needed you to be a father to me back then!”
“Didn’t you have clothes!” his father demanded gruffly, “A roof over your head? Food in your stomach? The best money could buy of everything! I provided all that, Max, because I loved you! You, Isabel and your mother had everything you could possibly want!”
“Except you,” Max intoned bitterly, “We never had you.” He laughed to himself, turning his face up towards the ceiling so that he could keep his tears from spilling over. “No wonder I identified with Tess so much,” he muttered, “I had her fucking life.”
“That girl was sick inside,” Philip remarked quietly, “You couldn’t help her.”
Max glared down at his father’s emaciated form, torn between aching pity and boiling anger. Even now while he was expressing genuine regret over what had happened Philip Evans still didn’t realize just how much he’d damaged his family with his indifference. “That’s right…I couldn’t, but do you know why I couldn’t, Dad? Do you know why Tess was sick?” Max asked his father softly, “It was because her father saw her as nothing more than a commodity…the same way you saw us.”
“Don’t say that,” his father reprimanded thickly, “I’m nothing like that man…”
“Aren’t you?”
“No!” Philip cried with amazing force, “He didn’t even care that his daughter was dead…he was too concerned with preserving his image and slandering yours. That man is cold inside, Maxwell…and I’m not like that. I thought I was but when you were shot…I had felt like my world had stopped.” Max watched as twin tears leaked from the corner of his father’s eye, rolling down his temple before absorbing into the pillow beneath his head. He looked away, unable to handle the bare emotion of his father’s face. “Despite what you think…I do love you.”
“You never acted like it,” Max whispered, “Now you want to have a second chance? You never even appreciated the first one.”
“If errors were what you watched for, oh God, who could stand?” Philip quoted softly.
Max whipped around to glare at his father. “What?” he hissed in a burning whisper.
“The Bible says that God doesn’t watch for our faults, Max,” he clarified softly, “Thank God…thank God,” he wept, “because I wouldn’t be able to stand.” He turned dark beseeching eyes toward his son. “I know I don’t deserve it, Max…but I need you to forgive me…please…”
For the moment Max ignored his father’s plea because he wasn’t at all sure if he was near the point of forgiveness. “You quoting the Bible to me?” he scoffed derisively, “What are you now? A born again Christian?”
His question actually made Philip smile a little. “I’m in this bed day in and day out,” he declared softly, “There’s little else to do.”
“And so you read the Bible?” Max demanded in disbelief.
“From cover to cover,” Philip confirmed, “And I’ve started again.”
“And what spiritual epiphany has come from all this reading,” Max asked tightly.
Philip sighed. “I learned God is forgiving,” he answered, “I learned that if you go to Him in prayer and you’re repentant…He will forgive you. I’ve asked God for His forgiveness, Max…now I’m asking for yours.”
Again Max had to look away for the emotion choking him. This Philip Evans was wholly unfamiliar to him, nothing at all like the belligerent and calculated man he’d grown to know. In his place was the soft-spoken, gentled old man begging for Max’s forgiveness, begging for his love. But Max wasn’t certain that he could give either. He was by no means as magnanimous as God though he should probably strive to be. The truth was that part of him wanted to be petty and selfish, to deny Philip the love and forgiveness he craved just as he had denied Max.
“Why should I forgive you?” Max queried aloud, “You were nothing to me the entire time I was growing up. You turned my mother against me. You took away my home, ruined my chances for school, took away my every security…and now you actually have the nerve to ask me for forgiveness?”
“I can never tell you how sorry I am,” Philip wept harshly, his words even more slurred and garbled by his tears. But Max understood his words anyway and they made him even more furious.
“Sorry?” he snorted, raking all ten fingers though his hair, “You’re sorry? Is that the magic band-aid word, Dad? Is all the hurt supposed to disappear now because you’re sorry, you bastard!”
“I deserve your hatred,” Philip whispered in reserve.
“You deserve more than that, old man!” Max countered, resuming his frantic, pacing circles, “But you know what’s ironic? After all, you’ve done you haven’t lost a single thing! Not your wife, not your daughter or your company, not even me! I actually still love your sorry ass!”
“Maxwell--,”
The tender, loving quality with which his father uttered his name stopped Max in his tracks. “I don’t want to love you,” Max said in a quivering tone, “I could have gone the rest of my life pretending you didn’t exist.”
“Is that really what you want?” his father asked him.
“What do you want?” Max demanded, answering his father’s question with a question, “Why the sudden change now? Why does your family matter so much to you now? Did you have a near death experience or something?”
“Yes,” Philip croaked emotionally. He lifted sparkling eyes up to his son’s irate ones. “Yours. That day you were shot was like a wake up call for me. When the doctor told us that he didn’t expect you to make it through the night…I felt like someone had crushed my heart.
“I tried to reach out to your mother,” he recounted, “But for the first time in our marriage she turned me away. I had never seen her look so cold.” Philip shuddered slightly with the memory. “She…she told me that…if you died she’d see me in hell… That’s when I finally understood what I had done…I had destroyed my own family…just like my dad destroyed his.”
Fresh tears pour from Philip’s eyes. “I didn’t want to die alone like my father,” he sobbed, “I didn’t want to lose what really mattered. My father died a wealthy man…but none of his children even attended his funeral. I don’t want that, Max…I don’t want that…”
Max plucked a tissue from the nearby nightstand and began sponging his father’s tear dampened face. “Let’s not talk about this anymore,” he urged Philip tenderly, “You don’t need to be upset like this.”
“You needed to hear these things,” Philip insisted weakly, “And so did I.”
“That might be true,” Max conceded neutrally, “But if we can’t talk about something else I’m going to have to leave you, Dad. You shouldn’t be upset.”
That was the last thing Philip wanted. He had been craving to see his son for so long he was unwilling to do anything that might drive Max away. “We’ll talk about something else,” Philip agreed quickly, “How have you been?”
“I’ve got a job bartending,” Max told his father.
“Bartending?”
“It’s good money,” Max said, “I can make $300 a night easy and I only work like four days a week.”
“Is that what you want for yourself,” Philip wondered, “To serve people drinks? What about med school?”
“I can’t afford med school,” Max answered succinctly.
“I can help y--,”
“I don’t want your help,” Max interrupted before his father could finish the sentence. But the hurt lurking in his father’s rheumy eyes soothed much of Max’s harshness. “Look, I don’t even know if med school was for me,” he sighed, “I wanted it mostly because I knew how much you hated it. I’m still figuring out what I want to do with my life.”
Philip digested his confession. “What about Liz and the baby?” he asked, “How will you support them bartending alone?”
“I’m doing a good job so far.” Philip’s gaze zigzagged to his face sharply. “Liz and I are living together,” Max clarified softly.
“Living together?” Philip echoed.
“We are together,” he amended flatly, “I’m not interested in your commentary on my personal life, Dad. Those days are over. This is just something you’re going to have to accept.”
“One of many things, hmm?” Philip prodded with a touch of regret.
“I guess so.”
-
Deejonaise
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2002 12:48 am
- Location: On my rusty dusty...
Chapter Sixty-Three
“How’d it go?” Liz asked Max the moment he entered the bedroom and closed the door behind him.
Max fell back against the door and proceeded to slide down to the floor. “Some things I expected,” he sighed, hooking his arms about the tops of his knees, “and some things I didn’t.”
Liz rolled from the bed with the dejected note she heard in his tone. Cocking her head to one side, she regarded him in open sympathy. “Do you need a hug?”
He glanced up at her with a crooked smile. “From you?” Max held out his arms to her. “Always.” Liz folded herself down beside him for an awkward embrace. Max buried his face in the fragrant softness of Liz’s hair. “Where the hell would I be without you?” he murmured sweetly.
“In the nuthouse?” Liz joked shakily.
Max pursed his lips in ironic consideration. “There might actually be some truth to that,” he said as Liz settled down next to him.
“Was the talk with your dad that bad?”
“I wouldn’t necessarily describe it as bad,” Max hedged.
“But you wouldn’t describe it as good either, huh?”
“It was interesting,” Max replied carefully, “It was like talking to a completely different person.”
“Was that a good thing?” Liz pressed.
Max scratched his forehead thoughtfully. “I think I’m still trying to decide.” However, seeing that his vague answer wasn’t at all satisfying to Liz, Max added, “He wants me to forgive him. I don’t know if I’m at that point yet but I can’t hate him for what he’s done either. I feel more confused now than before we came here.”
Liz patted his thigh. “Give yourself some time to sort it through,” she advised quietly.
Max lifted one amused brow. “Haven’t you given me this advice before?”
“It was good then and it’s good now,” Liz replied unapologetically, “Besides it must be working…you were with your dad almost three hours.”
“I stayed until he fell asleep,” Max said, “I could tell he was fighting it because he didn’t want me to leave. If he weren’t so exhausted I might still be in there with him.”
“You must be exhausted yourself,” Liz half stated, half asked. She threaded her fingers through his hair, massaging the pads of her fingers into his scalp. As she looked into his eyes, however, the exhaustion she saw there was gradually replaced by something darker.
Max plucked at the neckline of her shirt. “I’m not that tired,” he countered with a wicked smile. He dipped his head to taste the underside of her jaw. “Did you have a good day?” he asked, nuzzling his lips lower to nibble at the base of her throat.
“Well…I hung out with Isabel for a while,” Liz gasped, her words faltering a little when she felt his hot tongue dart over her sensitive skin, “And…and I took a nap…and…and I called my parents…”
Max’s mouth came to rest at the top swell of her breast. He didn’t look up at her when he repeated her words back to her. “You called your parents?”
“Your mother told them I was here.”
He reared back with an appalled sigh. “I’ll go talk to her.” Obviously his mother still hadn’t completely learned her lesson about meddling and a refresher was in order. Liz pushed herself to her feet right along with Max.
“Don’t go making trouble,” Liz scolded, hooking his arm, “She didn’t know I wanted to keep my visit quiet.” When that didn’t soften Max’s belligerent expression Liz tacked on, “It was wrong of me to avoid them in the first place. We’ve been getting along great for the last few weeks and--,”
“You were doing it for me,” Max concluded, cutting off her explanation, “You thought it might be awkward for me to see your family again and so you decided to avoid them for my sake.”
“I thought you had enough to deal with confronting your own parents.”
“Lizzie, Lizzie,” Max admonished, pulling her back into his arms and hugging her hard, “Stop trying to protect me, baby. I’m not gonna break…and that’s because of you.”
“I just get scared, Max,” she mumbled into his chest, “I saw how broken you were a few months ago. I don’t ever want you to go back to that place.”
Max buried his face into the crook of her neck. “I love you, Liz,” he whispered thickly, “Please don’t avoid your family on my account.” He pulled away so that he could stare down into her eyes. “You should go and see them.”
“They actually asked me over for dinner tonight,” Liz confessed.
“You should go,” Max rallied.
“They want you to come with me.” Max snapped his mouth shut as uncertainty clouded his features. “Will you?” Liz prodded when he continued silent.
“What did you tell them?” Max asked, shrugging from her loose embrace and walking over towards the bed.
“I said I’d talk to you and see how you felt about it,” Liz replied. She watched as his back went rigid while he considered her question. His silence was nerve-wracking and so Liz finally said, “We don’t have to do it, you know.”
“Do you want to?” Max asked as he rubbed the back of his neck. He flopped onto the bed and stared ahead to consider the adjacent wall.
“I’m not going without you,” Liz declared stubbornly.
“And I don’t want you to stay here on my account,” Max tossed back.
Liz crossed her arms over her chest. “Where exactly does that leave us?”
He glanced up at her miserably, reluctance and dread stamped all over him. “I guess we go to dinner,” he sighed crossly.
Liz plopped down beside him on the bed. “You don’t have to sound like you’re about to face the guillotine, Max,” she teased wryly.
“I kinda feel like I am,” Max replied, “I haven’t seen your father or brother since they had me locked up. I’ve got an assault charge on my record because of them.”
“That will be expunged in one year if you successfully complete your community service,” Liz reminded him. The judge in charge of Max’s case had been gracious enough to arrange for Max to begin his community service in Florida after he had informed her of his intention to move. She’d even taken his surgery into consideration, mandating that his court appointed service did not have to begin until two months after his sentencing date. In approximately two weeks Max would begin that community service, donating two hours of his time, five days a week to a Florida youth center for disabled children.
“We can start over tonight,” Liz whispered in reassurance, “This can be a new beginning for both of us. We can show my parents and your parents that we’re finally adults making our own life decisions.”
Max grunted a laugh. He knew that Liz was right. “I guess I should go and hit the shower then,” he said wryly. And then he did something unexpected. He held out his hand to Liz as he stood, his eyes hooded and speculative when he asked, “You wanna come with?”
Liz slid her gaze deliberately from his face to his outstretched hand and back again before curling her fingers around his. After Liz put in a quick call to her parents to let them know that she and Max would indeed make it for dinner Max and Liz walked hand and hand to the bathroom together with the leisurely pace of lovers. Neither of them felt at all frantic over what may or may not happen between them but utterly content to be in the moment. Instead they laughed and teased one another on the way and casually discussed their departure the next day.
Once they were alone in the bathroom and the door was safely closed behind them Liz started to whip her shirt over her head. She had only reached for the hem when Max stopped her. “No,” he protested softly, his eyes like melting pools of green and gold as he watched her, “Let me do it.”
Swallowing past the sudden lump in her throat, Liz nodded mutely and let her hands fall away. Max took a step closer, his hands loosely encircling her waist as he bent his head to nuzzle the rim of her ear. “You smell so good,” he whispered gruffly as his hands slid inexorably from her waist and began creeping up the expanse of her smooth back beneath her cotton tee. He strummed his fingers along the delicate ridge of her spinal column simultaneously dragging his lips across her jaw.
Liz’s eyes fluttered closed at the exact moment their mouths met in a tender kiss. Max had only to touch his lips to the corner of her mouth and Liz turned into him fully, wrapping her arms about his neck and surrendering to his will completely. Before she knew what was happening she was pulled flush against his body.
Max angled her back against the wall, holding her body captive there with his own as he slanted his mouth fiercely over hers again and again. He couldn’t get enough of her taste and, the deeper he kissed her the more he craved. In the back of his mind he knew his passion might be overwhelming for her, perhaps even frightening. Max told himself to slow down, to gentle his kiss, to stop the driving, insistent plunges of his tongue but he couldn’t. Liz was like a drug and he was the addict. Now that he’d been allowed a taste he desperately needed more.
But Max needn’t have worried about frightening Liz with his ardor. She was just as hungry, just as desperate for his touch and taste. Liz stroked her tongue along the sensitive inner skin of Max’s lower lip before provocatively taking the tender flesh into her mouth to suck. Max moaned in response to her bold caress, pushing his hands higher up her shirt in order to bring her body even closer.
They broke their kiss only long enough for Max to whip Liz’s t-shirt up her torso and over her head. And then their mouths fused once more and Max brought his questing hands around Liz’s body to cup the tantalizing fullness of her breasts. He hadn’t touched her that way in a long time, in months really. The feel of her aroused nipples scrapping against his palms sent a shaft of indescribable pleasure streaking through Max’s body. He ground his lower body against Liz, nearly shivering in delight when she brought her legs up to encircle his waist and mimic his sexual undulations. Max groaned into her mouth, overcome with the burning desire not only to touch Liz but to see her as well.
He reared back from her with a hitching gasp, his heart slamming like a trip hammer in his chest. Staring up at him with brown eyes made glassy with desire, her lips dewy and swollen and incredibly pink, Liz asked breathlessly, “What is it?”
Max brushed his lips across her forehead, the bridge of her nose. “I want to see you,” he told her in one serrated breath.
Liz didn’t I need to ask what he meant. Never taking her eyes from his face Liz tenderly took hold of Max’s hands and brought them up to the front clasp of her bra. “Do what you want,” she invited huskily.
He surprised her yet again and, instead of unfastening her bra as she expected, he walked her over to the edge of the sink and propped her there, easily stepping between her spread thighs. Only after sharing another long, thorough kiss did Max allow his attention to refocus on her quivering breasts. By that time the fever was racing in their blood all anew.
The first thing Max did was to trace the translucent blue veins meandering close to her skin’s surface. There was something oddly fascinating about those lines, definitely arousing. He remembered reading that a woman’s body increased the blood supply to her breasts in preparation for her milk. Her body was preparing itself for the birth of their child, his child. The knowledge sparked a frenzy of desire inside Max like he had never known.
With one last deliberate look into Liz’s shuttered eyes Max undid her bra clasp. In near reverent joy he gently peeled back the lacy cups, laying her bare to his hungry eyes. The sheer beauty of her was beyond breathtaking. Her skin was a warm peach, peppered over with alluring freckles. Max felt his erection throb painfully against the fly of his denims.
Her breasts were fuller than he remembered. He cupped their aching heaviness, gasping in delight at Liz’s answering moan of pleasure when he slid the pads of his thumbs over the aroused nubs of her nipples. They too seemed different, Max noted fuzzily, darker, harder…God, definitely more sensitive. He rolled her nipples expertly between his fingers, his caresses becoming ever more insistent with Liz’s ardent response. She arched her back, inadvertently pushing her breasts against his palms, moaning again and again. Max swallowed, unable to bear the torment any longer. He had to know what she tasted like…
His mouth had only just begun its descent down the graceful column of her throat when the doorknob rattled suddenly, jarring them apart. “Liz?” came Isabel’s tentative voice. Their eyes rebounded from the door to each other, brimming over with frustrated desire. Max stared down at his hands still covering the alluring fullness of her breasts. He nudged between her legs even closer and whispered one beseeching word, “Please?” Liz started to let him kiss her again, started to let him finish what they both were so hungry for but Isabel’s voice sounded again. “Liz? Liz, are you in there?”
“I’m here, Izzy,” Liz called out, pushing Max away a little so that she could regain her head. She wondered if her voice sounded as shaky to Isabel as it did to her own ears. “What’s the matter?”
“I was just talking to Michael on the phone,” Isabel answered, “He said you’re going over there for dinner tonight. I just wanted to offer you a ride since I’m going to. I tried to find Max to tell him but he seems to have disappeared.”
Max rolled his eyes at how transparent his sister sounded. She knew damned well he was in there and damned well what he was doing too! But then again it could just be the massive sexual frustration rolling through his body at the moment that was making him paranoid. He leaned his forehead against Liz’s bare shoulder and forced his breathing to even out.
“I’ll be leaving in about twenty minutes if you guys want to go with me,” Isabel said, “Tell Max for me when you see him.”
“Thanks, Isabel.” Liz waited until she heard her foots steps receding from the door before she spoke again. “Maybe we should continue this at a more convenient time,” she suggested softly. Liz fingered the silky tendrils of Max’s hair, trying valiantly to ignore the plucking caresses he was ministering to her aching breasts.
“We could always just blow off dinner,” Max moaned as he licked a wet trail over her shoulder and collarbone.
Liz gently grasped the back of his head so that he was forced to halt in his bold descent and meet her eyes. “You know we need to do this, Max,” she reasoned quietly.
Max expelled a disgusted sigh and leaned his forehead against hers. “I hate it when you’re sensible,” he muttered wryly.
“Well, in this instance, baby,” Liz told him somewhat miserably, “so do I.”
“How’d it go?” Liz asked Max the moment he entered the bedroom and closed the door behind him.
Max fell back against the door and proceeded to slide down to the floor. “Some things I expected,” he sighed, hooking his arms about the tops of his knees, “and some things I didn’t.”
Liz rolled from the bed with the dejected note she heard in his tone. Cocking her head to one side, she regarded him in open sympathy. “Do you need a hug?”
He glanced up at her with a crooked smile. “From you?” Max held out his arms to her. “Always.” Liz folded herself down beside him for an awkward embrace. Max buried his face in the fragrant softness of Liz’s hair. “Where the hell would I be without you?” he murmured sweetly.
“In the nuthouse?” Liz joked shakily.
Max pursed his lips in ironic consideration. “There might actually be some truth to that,” he said as Liz settled down next to him.
“Was the talk with your dad that bad?”
“I wouldn’t necessarily describe it as bad,” Max hedged.
“But you wouldn’t describe it as good either, huh?”
“It was interesting,” Max replied carefully, “It was like talking to a completely different person.”
“Was that a good thing?” Liz pressed.
Max scratched his forehead thoughtfully. “I think I’m still trying to decide.” However, seeing that his vague answer wasn’t at all satisfying to Liz, Max added, “He wants me to forgive him. I don’t know if I’m at that point yet but I can’t hate him for what he’s done either. I feel more confused now than before we came here.”
Liz patted his thigh. “Give yourself some time to sort it through,” she advised quietly.
Max lifted one amused brow. “Haven’t you given me this advice before?”
“It was good then and it’s good now,” Liz replied unapologetically, “Besides it must be working…you were with your dad almost three hours.”
“I stayed until he fell asleep,” Max said, “I could tell he was fighting it because he didn’t want me to leave. If he weren’t so exhausted I might still be in there with him.”
“You must be exhausted yourself,” Liz half stated, half asked. She threaded her fingers through his hair, massaging the pads of her fingers into his scalp. As she looked into his eyes, however, the exhaustion she saw there was gradually replaced by something darker.
Max plucked at the neckline of her shirt. “I’m not that tired,” he countered with a wicked smile. He dipped his head to taste the underside of her jaw. “Did you have a good day?” he asked, nuzzling his lips lower to nibble at the base of her throat.
“Well…I hung out with Isabel for a while,” Liz gasped, her words faltering a little when she felt his hot tongue dart over her sensitive skin, “And…and I took a nap…and…and I called my parents…”
Max’s mouth came to rest at the top swell of her breast. He didn’t look up at her when he repeated her words back to her. “You called your parents?”
“Your mother told them I was here.”
He reared back with an appalled sigh. “I’ll go talk to her.” Obviously his mother still hadn’t completely learned her lesson about meddling and a refresher was in order. Liz pushed herself to her feet right along with Max.
“Don’t go making trouble,” Liz scolded, hooking his arm, “She didn’t know I wanted to keep my visit quiet.” When that didn’t soften Max’s belligerent expression Liz tacked on, “It was wrong of me to avoid them in the first place. We’ve been getting along great for the last few weeks and--,”
“You were doing it for me,” Max concluded, cutting off her explanation, “You thought it might be awkward for me to see your family again and so you decided to avoid them for my sake.”
“I thought you had enough to deal with confronting your own parents.”
“Lizzie, Lizzie,” Max admonished, pulling her back into his arms and hugging her hard, “Stop trying to protect me, baby. I’m not gonna break…and that’s because of you.”
“I just get scared, Max,” she mumbled into his chest, “I saw how broken you were a few months ago. I don’t ever want you to go back to that place.”
Max buried his face into the crook of her neck. “I love you, Liz,” he whispered thickly, “Please don’t avoid your family on my account.” He pulled away so that he could stare down into her eyes. “You should go and see them.”
“They actually asked me over for dinner tonight,” Liz confessed.
“You should go,” Max rallied.
“They want you to come with me.” Max snapped his mouth shut as uncertainty clouded his features. “Will you?” Liz prodded when he continued silent.
“What did you tell them?” Max asked, shrugging from her loose embrace and walking over towards the bed.
“I said I’d talk to you and see how you felt about it,” Liz replied. She watched as his back went rigid while he considered her question. His silence was nerve-wracking and so Liz finally said, “We don’t have to do it, you know.”
“Do you want to?” Max asked as he rubbed the back of his neck. He flopped onto the bed and stared ahead to consider the adjacent wall.
“I’m not going without you,” Liz declared stubbornly.
“And I don’t want you to stay here on my account,” Max tossed back.
Liz crossed her arms over her chest. “Where exactly does that leave us?”
He glanced up at her miserably, reluctance and dread stamped all over him. “I guess we go to dinner,” he sighed crossly.
Liz plopped down beside him on the bed. “You don’t have to sound like you’re about to face the guillotine, Max,” she teased wryly.
“I kinda feel like I am,” Max replied, “I haven’t seen your father or brother since they had me locked up. I’ve got an assault charge on my record because of them.”
“That will be expunged in one year if you successfully complete your community service,” Liz reminded him. The judge in charge of Max’s case had been gracious enough to arrange for Max to begin his community service in Florida after he had informed her of his intention to move. She’d even taken his surgery into consideration, mandating that his court appointed service did not have to begin until two months after his sentencing date. In approximately two weeks Max would begin that community service, donating two hours of his time, five days a week to a Florida youth center for disabled children.
“We can start over tonight,” Liz whispered in reassurance, “This can be a new beginning for both of us. We can show my parents and your parents that we’re finally adults making our own life decisions.”
Max grunted a laugh. He knew that Liz was right. “I guess I should go and hit the shower then,” he said wryly. And then he did something unexpected. He held out his hand to Liz as he stood, his eyes hooded and speculative when he asked, “You wanna come with?”
Liz slid her gaze deliberately from his face to his outstretched hand and back again before curling her fingers around his. After Liz put in a quick call to her parents to let them know that she and Max would indeed make it for dinner Max and Liz walked hand and hand to the bathroom together with the leisurely pace of lovers. Neither of them felt at all frantic over what may or may not happen between them but utterly content to be in the moment. Instead they laughed and teased one another on the way and casually discussed their departure the next day.
Once they were alone in the bathroom and the door was safely closed behind them Liz started to whip her shirt over her head. She had only reached for the hem when Max stopped her. “No,” he protested softly, his eyes like melting pools of green and gold as he watched her, “Let me do it.”
Swallowing past the sudden lump in her throat, Liz nodded mutely and let her hands fall away. Max took a step closer, his hands loosely encircling her waist as he bent his head to nuzzle the rim of her ear. “You smell so good,” he whispered gruffly as his hands slid inexorably from her waist and began creeping up the expanse of her smooth back beneath her cotton tee. He strummed his fingers along the delicate ridge of her spinal column simultaneously dragging his lips across her jaw.
Liz’s eyes fluttered closed at the exact moment their mouths met in a tender kiss. Max had only to touch his lips to the corner of her mouth and Liz turned into him fully, wrapping her arms about his neck and surrendering to his will completely. Before she knew what was happening she was pulled flush against his body.
Max angled her back against the wall, holding her body captive there with his own as he slanted his mouth fiercely over hers again and again. He couldn’t get enough of her taste and, the deeper he kissed her the more he craved. In the back of his mind he knew his passion might be overwhelming for her, perhaps even frightening. Max told himself to slow down, to gentle his kiss, to stop the driving, insistent plunges of his tongue but he couldn’t. Liz was like a drug and he was the addict. Now that he’d been allowed a taste he desperately needed more.
But Max needn’t have worried about frightening Liz with his ardor. She was just as hungry, just as desperate for his touch and taste. Liz stroked her tongue along the sensitive inner skin of Max’s lower lip before provocatively taking the tender flesh into her mouth to suck. Max moaned in response to her bold caress, pushing his hands higher up her shirt in order to bring her body even closer.
They broke their kiss only long enough for Max to whip Liz’s t-shirt up her torso and over her head. And then their mouths fused once more and Max brought his questing hands around Liz’s body to cup the tantalizing fullness of her breasts. He hadn’t touched her that way in a long time, in months really. The feel of her aroused nipples scrapping against his palms sent a shaft of indescribable pleasure streaking through Max’s body. He ground his lower body against Liz, nearly shivering in delight when she brought her legs up to encircle his waist and mimic his sexual undulations. Max groaned into her mouth, overcome with the burning desire not only to touch Liz but to see her as well.
He reared back from her with a hitching gasp, his heart slamming like a trip hammer in his chest. Staring up at him with brown eyes made glassy with desire, her lips dewy and swollen and incredibly pink, Liz asked breathlessly, “What is it?”
Max brushed his lips across her forehead, the bridge of her nose. “I want to see you,” he told her in one serrated breath.
Liz didn’t I need to ask what he meant. Never taking her eyes from his face Liz tenderly took hold of Max’s hands and brought them up to the front clasp of her bra. “Do what you want,” she invited huskily.
He surprised her yet again and, instead of unfastening her bra as she expected, he walked her over to the edge of the sink and propped her there, easily stepping between her spread thighs. Only after sharing another long, thorough kiss did Max allow his attention to refocus on her quivering breasts. By that time the fever was racing in their blood all anew.
The first thing Max did was to trace the translucent blue veins meandering close to her skin’s surface. There was something oddly fascinating about those lines, definitely arousing. He remembered reading that a woman’s body increased the blood supply to her breasts in preparation for her milk. Her body was preparing itself for the birth of their child, his child. The knowledge sparked a frenzy of desire inside Max like he had never known.
With one last deliberate look into Liz’s shuttered eyes Max undid her bra clasp. In near reverent joy he gently peeled back the lacy cups, laying her bare to his hungry eyes. The sheer beauty of her was beyond breathtaking. Her skin was a warm peach, peppered over with alluring freckles. Max felt his erection throb painfully against the fly of his denims.
Her breasts were fuller than he remembered. He cupped their aching heaviness, gasping in delight at Liz’s answering moan of pleasure when he slid the pads of his thumbs over the aroused nubs of her nipples. They too seemed different, Max noted fuzzily, darker, harder…God, definitely more sensitive. He rolled her nipples expertly between his fingers, his caresses becoming ever more insistent with Liz’s ardent response. She arched her back, inadvertently pushing her breasts against his palms, moaning again and again. Max swallowed, unable to bear the torment any longer. He had to know what she tasted like…
His mouth had only just begun its descent down the graceful column of her throat when the doorknob rattled suddenly, jarring them apart. “Liz?” came Isabel’s tentative voice. Their eyes rebounded from the door to each other, brimming over with frustrated desire. Max stared down at his hands still covering the alluring fullness of her breasts. He nudged between her legs even closer and whispered one beseeching word, “Please?” Liz started to let him kiss her again, started to let him finish what they both were so hungry for but Isabel’s voice sounded again. “Liz? Liz, are you in there?”
“I’m here, Izzy,” Liz called out, pushing Max away a little so that she could regain her head. She wondered if her voice sounded as shaky to Isabel as it did to her own ears. “What’s the matter?”
“I was just talking to Michael on the phone,” Isabel answered, “He said you’re going over there for dinner tonight. I just wanted to offer you a ride since I’m going to. I tried to find Max to tell him but he seems to have disappeared.”
Max rolled his eyes at how transparent his sister sounded. She knew damned well he was in there and damned well what he was doing too! But then again it could just be the massive sexual frustration rolling through his body at the moment that was making him paranoid. He leaned his forehead against Liz’s bare shoulder and forced his breathing to even out.
“I’ll be leaving in about twenty minutes if you guys want to go with me,” Isabel said, “Tell Max for me when you see him.”
“Thanks, Isabel.” Liz waited until she heard her foots steps receding from the door before she spoke again. “Maybe we should continue this at a more convenient time,” she suggested softly. Liz fingered the silky tendrils of Max’s hair, trying valiantly to ignore the plucking caresses he was ministering to her aching breasts.
“We could always just blow off dinner,” Max moaned as he licked a wet trail over her shoulder and collarbone.
Liz gently grasped the back of his head so that he was forced to halt in his bold descent and meet her eyes. “You know we need to do this, Max,” she reasoned quietly.
Max expelled a disgusted sigh and leaned his forehead against hers. “I hate it when you’re sensible,” he muttered wryly.
“Well, in this instance, baby,” Liz told him somewhat miserably, “so do I.”
-
Deejonaise
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2002 12:48 am
- Location: On my rusty dusty...
Chapter Sixty-Four
He was in hell, pure and simple.
Max couldn’t remember ever sitting through a dinner so tense. Not even that fiasco they had shared with their parents after the study debacle could compare to the uncomfortable dining experience Max endured presently. It wasn’t necessarily the conversation that was causing Max to feel ill at ease either because that was relatively nonexistent. No, what was making him squirm like a fish on dry land was the pitying glances that had been directed towards him all evening. Mrs. Parker was especially bad. She kept watching Max as if she expected him to take the steak knife to his wrists right there at the dinner table. And he had traded a night of vigorous lovemaking for this?
“So, Max,” Jeff Parker drawled tentatively as he laid his knife and fork aside, “How has the job been treating you?”
“I serve drinks for a living,” Max replied a tad cantankerously, “I haven’t found the cure for the common cold.” Beneath the table Liz administered a wicked pinch to his forearm. “Ow!” he hissed out in surprise, swiveling about to glare at her. But some of his annoyance drained when he glimpsed the silent pleading in her eyes.
Max wasn’t blind to how much she wanted this dinner to work. Here she was experiencing one of the most miraculous and tumultuous times in a woman’s life and it was completely understandable that she would want to share it with her parents. Like him, Liz had also grown tired of nursing resentment and carrying around grudges. As Alex had told him long ago…you couldn’t pick your family. Liz wanted them all to put past pain and hurt behind them and move on. After all she had sacrificed and endured on his part Max felt that was the least he could do for Liz.
Setting his teeth hard he turned back to Jeff and amended with a grumble, “My job is going very well. Thank you for asking, sir.” Surprisingly, however, Max didn’t find his attempt at civility the least bit galling. Truthfully, he felt some of the tension ease at the table with his halting response. From the look on Jeff Parker’s face he had been waiting for a crack in Max’s icy façade. It seemed he didn’t want to continue on with bitter recriminations anymore than his daughter did.
But Jeff’s seeming acceptance of his future grandchild’s father went much further than the desire for familial peace. He felt guilty and, because he did, it never entered into Jeff’s head to resent Max’s curt indifference at all. Indeed, he recognized the young man’s chilly demeanor as his due. The very fact that Max had accepted his invitation to dinner when it was obvious that his feelings of anger were still present educed a great deal of respect from Jeff. If Jeff had possessed any lingering feelings of uncertainty over Max’s commitment to his daughter those doubts had been quelled entirely when Max walked into the dining room with Liz, his hand clasped in hers. Nothing less than love would have compelled Max to come to their house tonight and Jeff knew it. The knowledge only served to double his guilt and his desire to make amends tenfold.
He cleared his throat, once again attempting to strike up conversation with his taciturn dinner guest. “Liz says that you make good money as a bartender,” Jeff prodded.
“It’s decent,” was Max’s laconic reply, “I do alright.”
“He does better than ‘alright,’ Daddy,” Liz bragged with a beaming smile of pride, “Max, can pull in almost two grand a week. He’s got loads of regulars and they just love him.”
“Two…Two grand?” Michael sputtered, choking on his water. Though he tried to cover his discomfiture everyone at the table heard him mutter something under his breath like, “Damn, I gotta get me a job like that.”
“I don’t make that kinda money on a regular basis…only if I have a really good week,” Max corrected softly, “Mostly it’s just a little over a grand and that’s only been recently since I’ve gotten the hang of bartending. In the beginning my tips pretty much sucked.”
Isabel snickered behind her napkin at his blunt reply. Jeff and Michael seemed at a loss as to how to respond, but fortunately Nancy was able to persevere. “Somehow I can’t quite picture you as a bartender, Max,” she observed softly, “Every time I look at you I keep expecting to see that little boy who used to put bullfrogs in my Lizzie’s bed.”
Max ducked his head, feeling a wave of bittersweet remorse sweep through his heart. He could remember those days too, but now they seemed more like a far off dream than something that had ever been reality. “Yeah…well, that was a long time ago,” he mumbled quietly.
“Yes, it was,” Nancy agreed with a somber smile, “She’s not my Lizzie anymore, is she? She’s yours.” A quiet hush fell over the table following her words. Nancy took that opportunity to say what she and her husband had been aching to say all night. “Max, Jeff and I owe you a sincere apology--,”
“Please, don’t,” Max interrupted, holding up his hand for silence, “It really doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve had just about all I can take of emotional confrontations for one day.”
Liz laid a gentling hand against his thigh. “Max, let her finish,” she urged gently, “You deserve to hear this and so do I.” Max stared at her for an extended moment of indecision before finally bobbing his head in consent.
After favoring her daughter with a silent smile of gratitude Nancy continued. “That day Jeff had you arrested I knew it was wrong but I did nothing to stop him. I was just so angry over the way you’d hurt Liz that I…I wanted you to be hurt, too. And I guess I wanted to blame you for Liz’s unhappiness because I didn’t want to take the responsibility upon myself.
“I looked at Liz that day, so miserable and lost and scared, and I looked at you, equally miserable and lost and I realized that it was all my fault. I was the one who pushed for your marriage. I was the one to set the plans in motion and convinced your mother to go along with it,” Nancy confessed brokenly, “She was hesitant at first, but I told her that we would make the two of you happy in the long run and the end would justify the means. All I could think of was how much Liz adored you and how in sync the two of you were. I honestly believed that you would make a good marriage…I thought you were ready.”
“But we weren’t ready, Mom,” Liz replied softly, “You realize that now, don’t you?”
Nancy jerked her head in an emotional nod. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to fully understand the extent of the damage I caused,” she whispered mournfully, her words thick with tears, “Especially in light of the fact you two have seemingly found your way to each other despite my interference. I’m sorry my foolishness very nearly cost you both your friendship.”
Both Max and Liz blushed at her blunt reference to their relationship, something they hadn’t yet verbally admitted to Liz’s family despite the common knowledge that they were living together. They chanced each other surprised looks before noting the knowing expressions on Jeff and Nancy Parker’s faces. Evidently, Liz’s parents already knew that Liz and Max were much more than just roommates.
Liz traced the delicate embroidery on her napkin. “How long have you known?” she asked in a thoughtful whisper.
“Since you informed us that you were going back to Florida and that you were taking Max with you,” her father stated matter-of-factly.
“But there was nothing between us then!” Liz protested and then, because she didn’t quite like the sound of that statement, she quickly amended, “What I meant was we weren’t involved romantically then. Max was barely even speaking to me!”
“We suspected it was only a matter of time,” Jeff commented quietly, “but your mother and I realized the wisdom of keeping our noses out of your relationship this time.”
“Thank you for that,” Max replied brusquely, “I just wish you had considered all this three months earlier and maybe none of this would have happened.”
“You have every right to be angry,” Jeff conceded meekly.
Max had to swallow back his scoffing laugh. “You know that’s almost exactly what my father told me earlier this afternoon and, surprisingly, it doesn’t make one damned thing better,” he declared flatly, “I can’t blame you for my mistakes or how unhappy I made Liz while we were married because that was completely my fault. But I do blame you for putting me in that position in the first place.
“I don’t hate either of you. For most of my life, you and Mrs. Parker were like second parents to me. Especially you, Mr. Parker, because you knew my dad and I weren’t close. I looked up to you, which is why I have an even harder time forgiving you for what happened but not for me…for the way you treated Liz. You made her feel like she was nothing to you…just the same way my father always made me feel and that was so wrong. That’s what I can’t forgive or forget.
“And I know it’s important to Liz to mend fences with you. Her heart’s so big and so open…the thought of shutting you out forever is devastating to her. I guess I should be grateful for that, too, because her generosity of spirit is the only reason I’m sitting here with her today otherwise she would have shut me out of her life a long time ago. A lot of people might think it’s weak or flawed that Liz cares so much about others that she puts their needs before her own even to the exclusion of herself, but for me, I thank God everyday for blessing me with her. I thank God everyday that she’s the mother of my child because I know…I’m absolutely certain that she would never do to our child what you did to her. That’s not in her…it never has been.”
By the time Max had finished his eloquent monologue tears were streaming down his face. Liz, also, was in tears, touched beyond description not only for the profound way he’d expressed his admiration for her but the fierce protectiveness he expressed towards her as well. He had thrown her for a loop once again. Just when Liz was sure that she knew Max inside and out he revealed some new, hidden depth to himself that made her love him all the more. And she wasn’t the only one he had stunned into tears and silence. Her mother and Isabel wept openly as well.
Finally, Jeff Parker cleared his throat and whispered, “I don’t know quite how to respond except to reiterate what Nancy has already said and…” his voiced cracked terribly as he choked back his own tears, “…and that’s to say I’m sorry. I wish I could erase the past but I can’t.” He cleared his throat again. “Will you excuse me?” Jeff scraped his chair back from the table and hastily vacated the dining room.
“I’ll just go and check on him,” Nancy said, awkwardly excusing herself to follow him.
When Max looked over at Liz he saw the yearning in her eyes as she watched her parents leave. Though Jeff and Nancy Parker had hurt her appallingly with their controlling ways it hurt her even more to see them in pain. “Go after them,” he urged her softly, “I’ll understand if you do.”
“I won’t be long,” Liz promised, giving his hand a fleeting squeeze before she disappeared from the dining room as well.
That left only Isabel, Michael and Max at the dinner table, a cloud of thick tension hanging heavily over their heads. It was evident that no one had the appetite to eat anymore or make inane conversation either. Isabel watched as her brother and Michael alternately exchanged muted looks. She and Michael had made their peace with one another weeks ago, but to Isabel’s knowledge Max hadn’t yet had the opportunity to hash out his feelings with Michael. She decided to give him that chance now.
“I’m going to go and call Alex,” she announced suddenly, pushing herself away from the table, “Why don’t you two talk for once?”
Even after she’d gone and left them Michael and Max stubbornly refused to say a word to one another for the first few minutes. However, when faced with the prospect of ever thickening tension Michael decided to break his self-imposed silence. “So I suppose you feel the same way about me that you feel about my parents,” he began brusquely, “You think I treated Liz like nothing?”
“Actually, I think you were looking out for her as a brother,” Max contradicted dryly, “You didn’t want her to be hurt…I know that. Lying to her was a bad move though.”
“So that’s it,” Michael bleated in surprise, “No hard feelings or anything?”
“I didn’t say that,” Max countered, “I said I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with it.”
“Look, Max, you’re not the only one who knew how fragile Liz was,” Michael argued, “So did I. She was so in love with you that she couldn’t see straight but you couldn’t see far enough past Tessa Harding to notice.”
“Did you ever think to tell me?” Max demanded harshly.
The accusation smarted. Michael actually winced in response. “It wasn’t my place to tell you,” he muttered lamely.
“Then why the hell were we friends, Mikey?” Max fired, “If you thought I was capable of screwing Liz over like that why would you have anything to do with me? God, you should have known me better!”
“All I knew was that you got my baby sister drunk and took her virginity!” Michael flung back, “What the hell was I supposed to think, man! I was scared you were gonna break her heart. I would have done anything to keep that from happening.”
“Even lie to her,” Max concluded bitterly.
“What? And you never lied to her?” Michael snorted in disbelief.
“No, I didn’t.”
Michael’s features twisted into an ironic smile, but Max could see he was hiding a great deal of remorse behind his façade of bitterness. “Well, we all can’t be fucking saints, Maxwell!”
“I’m not a saint,” Max returned calmly, “I never claimed to be. But I love Liz…I’ve never set out to hurt her intentionally and I never will. All I want is to make her happy.”
“Well, I love her, too!” Michael cried, “All I wanted to do was protect her! That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Then we’re in agreement,” Max replied quietly, “We both have Liz’s best interests at heart so there shouldn’t be any reason for you and I to clash in the future, right?”
Max’s flinty tone was not lost on Michael but he made a valid point and Michael thought it useless to argue. “I guess not,” he grumbled.
“Good.”
A few minutes later Liz crept back into the dining room and encircled Max’s shoulders in a hug from behind. “I think we should probably get going,” she whispered into his neck, “My mom and dad need a little time for themselves. Isabel’s waiting for us out in the car.”
“Yeah, we should definitely go,” Max agreed, kissing her hand before rising to his feet, “Why don’t you say your good-byes to Michael. I’ll wait for you in the foyer.”
“How long were you standing outside listening?” Michael asked her when Max was gone.
“Long enough to hear everything you two said,” Liz replied, not even bothering to deny that she had been eavesdropping, “I…I just wanted you to know that I’m not mad at you anymore about what you did. I know why you did it…cuz you love me and you didn’t want my heart to get broken.”
“I really wasn’t trying to hurt you, Liz,” Michael insisted gruffly.
“I know.”
“But Max doesn’t,” Michael replied, “He still resents me.”
“You broke his heart, Mikey,” Liz whispered, “He thought that you were his friend and you betrayed him.”
“He betrayed me first.”
“No, that’s where you’re wrong,” Liz corrected, “Because what happened between Max and me was between Max and me. Not you or Mom or Dad, but us. It was private. You should have never interfered. And as for Max getting me drunk…he didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to, okay? If you’re going to blame him for being stupid that night you have to blame me as well.”
“You’re still protecting him,” Michael spat out in accusation.
“The same way he protects me,” Liz countered softly. But to show that she felt no animosity toward his candid admission she stepped forward and enfolded him in a tight hug. “I love you anyway,” she whispered, “even though you can be a butt munch sometimes.”
“Same here,” Michael choked, lamenting the loss of his little sister. He couldn’t deny any longer that Liz had become a woman, capable of making her own life choices and sticking with them. “Will we see you again?” he asked tremulously when she pulled out of his arms.
“I’ll visit for the July 4th weekend just like we talked about,” Liz promised, “I can’t guarantee that Max will be with me though.”
She saw regret flash in her brother’s eyes before he turned away completely. “He’s never going to forgive me, is he?” Michael wondered despondently.
“Maybe someday, Michael,” Liz whispered sympathetically, “We’ll just have to wait and see.”
He was in hell, pure and simple.
Max couldn’t remember ever sitting through a dinner so tense. Not even that fiasco they had shared with their parents after the study debacle could compare to the uncomfortable dining experience Max endured presently. It wasn’t necessarily the conversation that was causing Max to feel ill at ease either because that was relatively nonexistent. No, what was making him squirm like a fish on dry land was the pitying glances that had been directed towards him all evening. Mrs. Parker was especially bad. She kept watching Max as if she expected him to take the steak knife to his wrists right there at the dinner table. And he had traded a night of vigorous lovemaking for this?
“So, Max,” Jeff Parker drawled tentatively as he laid his knife and fork aside, “How has the job been treating you?”
“I serve drinks for a living,” Max replied a tad cantankerously, “I haven’t found the cure for the common cold.” Beneath the table Liz administered a wicked pinch to his forearm. “Ow!” he hissed out in surprise, swiveling about to glare at her. But some of his annoyance drained when he glimpsed the silent pleading in her eyes.
Max wasn’t blind to how much she wanted this dinner to work. Here she was experiencing one of the most miraculous and tumultuous times in a woman’s life and it was completely understandable that she would want to share it with her parents. Like him, Liz had also grown tired of nursing resentment and carrying around grudges. As Alex had told him long ago…you couldn’t pick your family. Liz wanted them all to put past pain and hurt behind them and move on. After all she had sacrificed and endured on his part Max felt that was the least he could do for Liz.
Setting his teeth hard he turned back to Jeff and amended with a grumble, “My job is going very well. Thank you for asking, sir.” Surprisingly, however, Max didn’t find his attempt at civility the least bit galling. Truthfully, he felt some of the tension ease at the table with his halting response. From the look on Jeff Parker’s face he had been waiting for a crack in Max’s icy façade. It seemed he didn’t want to continue on with bitter recriminations anymore than his daughter did.
But Jeff’s seeming acceptance of his future grandchild’s father went much further than the desire for familial peace. He felt guilty and, because he did, it never entered into Jeff’s head to resent Max’s curt indifference at all. Indeed, he recognized the young man’s chilly demeanor as his due. The very fact that Max had accepted his invitation to dinner when it was obvious that his feelings of anger were still present educed a great deal of respect from Jeff. If Jeff had possessed any lingering feelings of uncertainty over Max’s commitment to his daughter those doubts had been quelled entirely when Max walked into the dining room with Liz, his hand clasped in hers. Nothing less than love would have compelled Max to come to their house tonight and Jeff knew it. The knowledge only served to double his guilt and his desire to make amends tenfold.
He cleared his throat, once again attempting to strike up conversation with his taciturn dinner guest. “Liz says that you make good money as a bartender,” Jeff prodded.
“It’s decent,” was Max’s laconic reply, “I do alright.”
“He does better than ‘alright,’ Daddy,” Liz bragged with a beaming smile of pride, “Max, can pull in almost two grand a week. He’s got loads of regulars and they just love him.”
“Two…Two grand?” Michael sputtered, choking on his water. Though he tried to cover his discomfiture everyone at the table heard him mutter something under his breath like, “Damn, I gotta get me a job like that.”
“I don’t make that kinda money on a regular basis…only if I have a really good week,” Max corrected softly, “Mostly it’s just a little over a grand and that’s only been recently since I’ve gotten the hang of bartending. In the beginning my tips pretty much sucked.”
Isabel snickered behind her napkin at his blunt reply. Jeff and Michael seemed at a loss as to how to respond, but fortunately Nancy was able to persevere. “Somehow I can’t quite picture you as a bartender, Max,” she observed softly, “Every time I look at you I keep expecting to see that little boy who used to put bullfrogs in my Lizzie’s bed.”
Max ducked his head, feeling a wave of bittersweet remorse sweep through his heart. He could remember those days too, but now they seemed more like a far off dream than something that had ever been reality. “Yeah…well, that was a long time ago,” he mumbled quietly.
“Yes, it was,” Nancy agreed with a somber smile, “She’s not my Lizzie anymore, is she? She’s yours.” A quiet hush fell over the table following her words. Nancy took that opportunity to say what she and her husband had been aching to say all night. “Max, Jeff and I owe you a sincere apology--,”
“Please, don’t,” Max interrupted, holding up his hand for silence, “It really doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve had just about all I can take of emotional confrontations for one day.”
Liz laid a gentling hand against his thigh. “Max, let her finish,” she urged gently, “You deserve to hear this and so do I.” Max stared at her for an extended moment of indecision before finally bobbing his head in consent.
After favoring her daughter with a silent smile of gratitude Nancy continued. “That day Jeff had you arrested I knew it was wrong but I did nothing to stop him. I was just so angry over the way you’d hurt Liz that I…I wanted you to be hurt, too. And I guess I wanted to blame you for Liz’s unhappiness because I didn’t want to take the responsibility upon myself.
“I looked at Liz that day, so miserable and lost and scared, and I looked at you, equally miserable and lost and I realized that it was all my fault. I was the one who pushed for your marriage. I was the one to set the plans in motion and convinced your mother to go along with it,” Nancy confessed brokenly, “She was hesitant at first, but I told her that we would make the two of you happy in the long run and the end would justify the means. All I could think of was how much Liz adored you and how in sync the two of you were. I honestly believed that you would make a good marriage…I thought you were ready.”
“But we weren’t ready, Mom,” Liz replied softly, “You realize that now, don’t you?”
Nancy jerked her head in an emotional nod. “I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to fully understand the extent of the damage I caused,” she whispered mournfully, her words thick with tears, “Especially in light of the fact you two have seemingly found your way to each other despite my interference. I’m sorry my foolishness very nearly cost you both your friendship.”
Both Max and Liz blushed at her blunt reference to their relationship, something they hadn’t yet verbally admitted to Liz’s family despite the common knowledge that they were living together. They chanced each other surprised looks before noting the knowing expressions on Jeff and Nancy Parker’s faces. Evidently, Liz’s parents already knew that Liz and Max were much more than just roommates.
Liz traced the delicate embroidery on her napkin. “How long have you known?” she asked in a thoughtful whisper.
“Since you informed us that you were going back to Florida and that you were taking Max with you,” her father stated matter-of-factly.
“But there was nothing between us then!” Liz protested and then, because she didn’t quite like the sound of that statement, she quickly amended, “What I meant was we weren’t involved romantically then. Max was barely even speaking to me!”
“We suspected it was only a matter of time,” Jeff commented quietly, “but your mother and I realized the wisdom of keeping our noses out of your relationship this time.”
“Thank you for that,” Max replied brusquely, “I just wish you had considered all this three months earlier and maybe none of this would have happened.”
“You have every right to be angry,” Jeff conceded meekly.
Max had to swallow back his scoffing laugh. “You know that’s almost exactly what my father told me earlier this afternoon and, surprisingly, it doesn’t make one damned thing better,” he declared flatly, “I can’t blame you for my mistakes or how unhappy I made Liz while we were married because that was completely my fault. But I do blame you for putting me in that position in the first place.
“I don’t hate either of you. For most of my life, you and Mrs. Parker were like second parents to me. Especially you, Mr. Parker, because you knew my dad and I weren’t close. I looked up to you, which is why I have an even harder time forgiving you for what happened but not for me…for the way you treated Liz. You made her feel like she was nothing to you…just the same way my father always made me feel and that was so wrong. That’s what I can’t forgive or forget.
“And I know it’s important to Liz to mend fences with you. Her heart’s so big and so open…the thought of shutting you out forever is devastating to her. I guess I should be grateful for that, too, because her generosity of spirit is the only reason I’m sitting here with her today otherwise she would have shut me out of her life a long time ago. A lot of people might think it’s weak or flawed that Liz cares so much about others that she puts their needs before her own even to the exclusion of herself, but for me, I thank God everyday for blessing me with her. I thank God everyday that she’s the mother of my child because I know…I’m absolutely certain that she would never do to our child what you did to her. That’s not in her…it never has been.”
By the time Max had finished his eloquent monologue tears were streaming down his face. Liz, also, was in tears, touched beyond description not only for the profound way he’d expressed his admiration for her but the fierce protectiveness he expressed towards her as well. He had thrown her for a loop once again. Just when Liz was sure that she knew Max inside and out he revealed some new, hidden depth to himself that made her love him all the more. And she wasn’t the only one he had stunned into tears and silence. Her mother and Isabel wept openly as well.
Finally, Jeff Parker cleared his throat and whispered, “I don’t know quite how to respond except to reiterate what Nancy has already said and…” his voiced cracked terribly as he choked back his own tears, “…and that’s to say I’m sorry. I wish I could erase the past but I can’t.” He cleared his throat again. “Will you excuse me?” Jeff scraped his chair back from the table and hastily vacated the dining room.
“I’ll just go and check on him,” Nancy said, awkwardly excusing herself to follow him.
When Max looked over at Liz he saw the yearning in her eyes as she watched her parents leave. Though Jeff and Nancy Parker had hurt her appallingly with their controlling ways it hurt her even more to see them in pain. “Go after them,” he urged her softly, “I’ll understand if you do.”
“I won’t be long,” Liz promised, giving his hand a fleeting squeeze before she disappeared from the dining room as well.
That left only Isabel, Michael and Max at the dinner table, a cloud of thick tension hanging heavily over their heads. It was evident that no one had the appetite to eat anymore or make inane conversation either. Isabel watched as her brother and Michael alternately exchanged muted looks. She and Michael had made their peace with one another weeks ago, but to Isabel’s knowledge Max hadn’t yet had the opportunity to hash out his feelings with Michael. She decided to give him that chance now.
“I’m going to go and call Alex,” she announced suddenly, pushing herself away from the table, “Why don’t you two talk for once?”
Even after she’d gone and left them Michael and Max stubbornly refused to say a word to one another for the first few minutes. However, when faced with the prospect of ever thickening tension Michael decided to break his self-imposed silence. “So I suppose you feel the same way about me that you feel about my parents,” he began brusquely, “You think I treated Liz like nothing?”
“Actually, I think you were looking out for her as a brother,” Max contradicted dryly, “You didn’t want her to be hurt…I know that. Lying to her was a bad move though.”
“So that’s it,” Michael bleated in surprise, “No hard feelings or anything?”
“I didn’t say that,” Max countered, “I said I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with it.”
“Look, Max, you’re not the only one who knew how fragile Liz was,” Michael argued, “So did I. She was so in love with you that she couldn’t see straight but you couldn’t see far enough past Tessa Harding to notice.”
“Did you ever think to tell me?” Max demanded harshly.
The accusation smarted. Michael actually winced in response. “It wasn’t my place to tell you,” he muttered lamely.
“Then why the hell were we friends, Mikey?” Max fired, “If you thought I was capable of screwing Liz over like that why would you have anything to do with me? God, you should have known me better!”
“All I knew was that you got my baby sister drunk and took her virginity!” Michael flung back, “What the hell was I supposed to think, man! I was scared you were gonna break her heart. I would have done anything to keep that from happening.”
“Even lie to her,” Max concluded bitterly.
“What? And you never lied to her?” Michael snorted in disbelief.
“No, I didn’t.”
Michael’s features twisted into an ironic smile, but Max could see he was hiding a great deal of remorse behind his façade of bitterness. “Well, we all can’t be fucking saints, Maxwell!”
“I’m not a saint,” Max returned calmly, “I never claimed to be. But I love Liz…I’ve never set out to hurt her intentionally and I never will. All I want is to make her happy.”
“Well, I love her, too!” Michael cried, “All I wanted to do was protect her! That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Then we’re in agreement,” Max replied quietly, “We both have Liz’s best interests at heart so there shouldn’t be any reason for you and I to clash in the future, right?”
Max’s flinty tone was not lost on Michael but he made a valid point and Michael thought it useless to argue. “I guess not,” he grumbled.
“Good.”
A few minutes later Liz crept back into the dining room and encircled Max’s shoulders in a hug from behind. “I think we should probably get going,” she whispered into his neck, “My mom and dad need a little time for themselves. Isabel’s waiting for us out in the car.”
“Yeah, we should definitely go,” Max agreed, kissing her hand before rising to his feet, “Why don’t you say your good-byes to Michael. I’ll wait for you in the foyer.”
“How long were you standing outside listening?” Michael asked her when Max was gone.
“Long enough to hear everything you two said,” Liz replied, not even bothering to deny that she had been eavesdropping, “I…I just wanted you to know that I’m not mad at you anymore about what you did. I know why you did it…cuz you love me and you didn’t want my heart to get broken.”
“I really wasn’t trying to hurt you, Liz,” Michael insisted gruffly.
“I know.”
“But Max doesn’t,” Michael replied, “He still resents me.”
“You broke his heart, Mikey,” Liz whispered, “He thought that you were his friend and you betrayed him.”
“He betrayed me first.”
“No, that’s where you’re wrong,” Liz corrected, “Because what happened between Max and me was between Max and me. Not you or Mom or Dad, but us. It was private. You should have never interfered. And as for Max getting me drunk…he didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to, okay? If you’re going to blame him for being stupid that night you have to blame me as well.”
“You’re still protecting him,” Michael spat out in accusation.
“The same way he protects me,” Liz countered softly. But to show that she felt no animosity toward his candid admission she stepped forward and enfolded him in a tight hug. “I love you anyway,” she whispered, “even though you can be a butt munch sometimes.”
“Same here,” Michael choked, lamenting the loss of his little sister. He couldn’t deny any longer that Liz had become a woman, capable of making her own life choices and sticking with them. “Will we see you again?” he asked tremulously when she pulled out of his arms.
“I’ll visit for the July 4th weekend just like we talked about,” Liz promised, “I can’t guarantee that Max will be with me though.”
She saw regret flash in her brother’s eyes before he turned away completely. “He’s never going to forgive me, is he?” Michael wondered despondently.
“Maybe someday, Michael,” Liz whispered sympathetically, “We’ll just have to wait and see.”
-
Deejonaise
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2002 12:48 am
- Location: On my rusty dusty...
Chapter Sixty-Five
“That had to be the most tension filled dinner party I have ever attended!” Isabel announced flatly on the drive back to her parents’ house. “I don’t know why Michael thought my being there would help things go smoothly. I was little more than a bystander, just sitting there with my mouth hanging open like everybody else.”
“Come on, Izzy, it wasn’t that bad,” Liz laughed from the backseat.
“Max made your father cry, Liz!” Isabel cried in incredulous exasperation, “I’m talking like real tears here! I kept praying that the floor would yawn open and swallow me whole.”
“Well, I think what he said was amazingly sweet,” Liz cooed, leaning into Max to nuzzle his neck.
“Yeah, I always like it when my boyfriends reduce my family to tears,” Isabel snorted, “Such a turn on!” She and Liz shared another burst of irreverent humor.
Max felt the tips of his ears redden. Now that some of his adrenaline-fueled indignation had cooled he found himself wincing in remembrance of his harsh reaction at dinner. Max did not at all regret anything that he had said to Liz’s parents, but he was beginning to realize that his reaction might not have been completely appropriate.
Jeff Parker had treated him with an amazing amount of civility despite the fact that Max had broken his daughter’s heart into a billion pieces. It didn’t particularly matter that Max hadn’t set out to hurt Liz; his thickheaded blindness had caused her droves of unnecessary pain. Max knew that night she’d given him back his ring she must have been devastated. No doubt that was the memory Jeff Parker carried in his head when Max came barging onto his property two days later. It was little wonder he’d reacted the way he had.
And yet, tonight, he had welcomed Max, accepted his daughter’s decision to take Max into her life again and how had Max reacted to such benevolence…by humiliating the man at his own dinner table. That had never been Max’s intention at all, but once the words had left his mouth he had been unable to call them back. Before he knew what had happened three months of pent up resentment and anger had spewed from his mouth and Mr. Parker was visibly rocked.
Now Max found himself second-guessing the wisdom of his actions and anxious over the possibility that Liz might secretly offended by what he had done. It was true that she seemed quite easy about the incident, even laughing it all off casually with Isabel but her dismissive demeanor could easily be a pretense she’d erected for Isabel’s sake. Perhaps, in reality, she was seething and just waiting for a moment alone where she could tell Max exactly what she thought of him. Feeling his stomach churn at that upsetting possibility Max knew he couldn’t wait until they got back to the house to discover how Liz really felt. He jostled her hand, which was loosely entwined with his own. “Are you mad?” he whispered so that only Liz could hear.
“About what?” Liz whispered in return.
“You know…about upsetting your dad.”
Liz gave his hand a reflexive squeeze. “Max, I told you it was okay,” she said gently, “In a way I’m glad it happened. My dad was upset but not because you confronted him but because he knew that every word you said was true. Tonight was the first time I really saw regret in his eyes…it was the first time I ever believed he was sorry for what he did to me…and what he did to you.”
“So you don’t think I was out of line?” Max fretted.
“I think you were perfect,” Liz declared, framing his face between her hands so that she could take his lips in a tender kiss, “I love you for it.” They hovered within inches of one another; eyes fused together in tumultuous stare…one full of longing and promise, too.
“You both have gotten awfully quiet all of a sudden,” Isabel remarked laughingly, “You’re not talking about me, are you?”
Reluctantly glancing away from Liz’s expressive, brown eyes Max grinned at his sister. “Why? Are your ears burning?” he teased.
“No whispering while I’m in the car and I can hear you,” Isabel admonished playfully, “It’s a pretty long walk back to Philip and Diane’s.”
“Mmm, no whispering,” Liz promised in mock seriousness.
The spurt of laughter they shared helped to dispel any lingering tension from dinner. “So what time are you guys leaving tomorrow?” Isabel asked when things had settled down.
“Our flight doesn’t leave until six o’clock in the evening,” Liz told her.
“That’s perfect,” Isabel squealed.
“Perfect for what?” Max demanded cautiously, already recoiling inwardly over what his sister might have planned for them. He didn’t think he could stomach an entire day dedicated to chick power. “What are you planning?”
“Well…” Isabel clarified, “Alex and I are heading out to the lake tomorrow morning and he’s been dying to see you and Liz so I thought that maybe the two of you could join us.”
Max relaxed a little with the knowledge that he wouldn’t be the only male and since he and Liz had already planned on visiting Alex the plan worked out very well. “What time are you leaving?”
“Around 10 o’clock. You interested?”
Max chanced Liz a speculative glance. “You wanna go?”
“Definitely,” Liz said without any hesitation, “We could definitely use some relaxation time after the drama we’ve dealt with in the last day.”
“Sweet!” Isabel trilled, “I’ll call Alex and tell him tonight. Hey…so now that we know what we’re doing tomorrow what do you guys wanna do tonight? I could stop and rent a movie or something.”
Again Max and Liz exchanged silent looks. “Uh…no offense to you, Izzy, but Liz and I are kinda planning on spending the rest of our evening alone,” Max replied pointedly, “You know…alone.” Liz’s mouth fell open at his unaccustomed boldness and she buried her burning face in his shoulder with a mortified squeak.
It took Isabel less than a nanosecond to decipher what her brother’s definition of alone meant. “Eww,” she cried with a mock shudder of revulsion, “I guarantee you that I won’t be within a fifty mile radius of your bedroom door tonight!”
“Good,” Max replied concisely, “Maybe you can pass the word along to Mom as well and whoever else might take it into their head to knock.”
By the time they made it back to his parents’, however, and Max had said goodnight to his family he found that much of his boldness had given way to nervousness. He stood facing Liz in his old room, his palms dampened with sweat, his heart racing as if he’d just run a marathon. He wanted to touch her, wanted to yank her into his arms and kiss her all over. There was nothing to stop him now save for his own fear. The thought of disappointing her now was almost crippling.
“So…here we are,” Liz drawled out in a whisper when Max made no move to approach her. She favored him with a suggestive look. “What do we do now?”
Max rubbed his sweaty hands against the thighs of his khakis. “I…uh…well…um…I…” He knew he needed a verb but his vocabulary just suddenly became nonexistent as he was consumed in the sensual haze of Liz’s luminous stare. She took a step towards him and Max had to check the reflexive desire to take a step back. He swallowed hard when she lifted her hands and splayed them wide across his chest, leaning into his body. In pure instinct his own hands fluttered up to cradle her face against his chest and stroke her dark, heavy hair. “Liz, I’m so scared right now,” he whispered shakily.
“Why?” Liz wondered, “We’ve done it before.”
“That time doesn’t count.”
He made the statement with such flat, brutal honesty that Liz jerked her head up in surprise. “You don’t think it counts?” she queried.
“Liz, we were drunk,” Max told her as if it were a point she had missed the first time around, “That time wasn’t about us or our love for each other. It was a copout, a lapse in judgment…the exact opposite of how our first time together should have been.”
“But we made our baby that night,” Liz reminded him tremulously.
“Sometimes I wonder if that was the only good thing to come out of that night,” Max sighed, “I can’t erase what happened between us back then, Liz, but maybe I can replace that night with one you’ll never forget.” Liz smiled up at him, her eyes fluttering in breathless pleasure as he traced his fingertips over her mouth, chin and throat. “That’s why I’m so scared right now,” he confessed in a burning whisper, “I want this time to be perfect. No interruptions, no misunderstandings…I want this time to magic for us, Liz.”
“It will be,” Liz replied with enamored certainty.
“And how can you be so sure?” Max teased with a low laugh.
“Because it’s you,” was Liz’s simple answer. She took a step back from him then and deftly pulled her shirt up and over her head before tossing it aside. While Max was still speechless over that unexpected development Liz hooked her fingers in the elastic waistband of her capri pants and pushed them down her hips. After she’d kicked her pants away, Liz straightened to face him once again, trembling slightly. She stood before him in only her bra and panties…vulnerable, silent and waiting.
His breath suspended in his chest as he took in the full onslaught of her glorious body, covered only with lacy scraps of pink and white. This was the first time he’d seen her so bare in over two months. As his eyes slid appreciatively, reverently, hungrily down her quaking length Max realized that Liz hadn’t exaggerated at all. She had started to show. Her belly was no longer flat but now alluringly convex, just a slight swell beginning just beneath her navel. He uttered her name in a ragged breath of wonder.
With his gaze on her body growing ever passionate Liz suddenly had the impulsive urge to cover herself. Did he find the changes repulsive? Her stomach was hardly swelled at all, still there was a marked difference from the taut flatness it had once had. “I…I told you that I looked different,” she stuttered out nervously.
“God, Liz,” he whispered, “you look so beautiful.” Her reaction to his candid admission was to shyly duck her head so she didn’t immediately notice Max’s gradual advance. “Can I…can I touch you?” he asked humbly.
Liz lifted her head again and nodded, only to discover that Max had closed the short distance between them. Her gaze captured by his in a silent stare, Liz leaned into Max and allowed him to turn her in his arms and pull her body back against his. As she molded herself against the length of his body, Max slid his arms beneath her own, smoothing his hands down the trim sides of her waist. He caressed her hips lightly before spreading his hands wide across her midriff to press her body even closer against him.
Max dipped his head to taste her shoulder, creeping his hands lower so that he could tenderly caress the gentle rounding of her abdomen. Max found her flesh was surprisingly firm, not at all what he expected. She hadn’t grown very large at all yet that small change in her body still seemed amazingly dramatic to Max. A wondrous peace washed over him as the understanding dawned anew that his child was growing and thriving right beneath his hand. “Oh, Liz,” he murmured thickly, his throat closing off with emotion, “I love you so much.” Max burrowed his face against her neck, hugging her hard as tears stung the backs of his eyes.
She shuddered, both from the resonant quality of his words as well as the sensual way his breath stirred against her flesh. Her skin tingled where he stroked her abdomen, his fingertips only inches from the waistband of her panties. She yearned for him to take his exploration lower, to touch the most secret part of her. The thought alone tore an audible moan from Liz’s throat. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, gasping brokenly as he slid his tongue along the delicate rim of her ear before plunging it inside. All the while his fingers continued their maddening strumming, smoothing over her belly in small circles, but never creeping lower.
Unconsciously, Liz rose onto her tiptoes in an attempt to force Max’s hand to descend. She was so caught up in wicked swirls he was making against her ear with the tip of his tongue that Max’s answering chuckle barely registered on her eager senses. Having received her unspoken invitation to proceed further, Max nuzzled Liz’s temple and dipped his fingers inside the waistband of her panties.
At first, he only sifted his fingers through the crinkly dark hair at the apex of her thighs, reacquainting himself with the coarse texture. He played with her, feinting dipping lower before retreating only to return seconds later and caress again. His teasing caresses were driving Liz insane. She stroked her hands up and down the length of his arms, urging him on, desperately trying to push his fingers lower. And then, without warning, he plunged his hand into her panties and cupped her aching sex, simultaneously sweeping his free hand up the length of her body to take hold of her breast.
Liz gurgled a moan of mindless pleasure, her knees turning completely to jelly as Max began stroking her weeping center with one hand and fanning one distended nipple with the other. She turned her head fitfully against his shoulder, unconsciously mewling his name in gasping delight. Liz undulated against his sliding fingers, not only aroused by the burning pleasure his fingers created as they slid in and out of her silky, hot body, but also the insistent rigidity of his erection pressing boldly into her backside. “Max,” Liz gasped, grabbing hold of his hand in an attempt to coax his fingers back inside her, “Max…Max, please…”
“Shh…Liz, we don’t have to rush,” he whispered, slipping his hand from her breast down her quivering belly to still the spasmodic jerking of her hips, “All night, baby…we’ve got all night.”
“Let’s…let’s lie down,” Liz murmured in a staccato breath. The moment the words left her mouth Max swept her up into his arms and began bearing her towards the bed. “You’ve done this before,” she whispered vaguely as he lay her down against the cool sheets, “That night…in your room…”
Max stared at her in mute surprise. “You remember?” he asked, his eyes anxious with hope.
“Only some things,” Liz said softly, “Others are still a blur though.” She reached up to caress his jaw, sliding her fingers around to his nape to bury them in his hair. “Help me remember, Max,” she urged as she pulled him down beside her, “Help me…”
Max took her lips in a torridly, his tongue tangling with hers in a hungry duel for dominance, fueling the desire burning between them from a flickering flame to a raging inferno. It wasn’t merely enough to kiss, to sweep his tongue inside her mouth again and again. Max wanted to Liz to absorb him into her body, he wanted her to feel him aching in her blood much the way he felt her aching in his. He gathered her up against his length, his mouth and hands wild and frenzied.
They tangled together, grasping, gripping, undulating, rumpling the sheets hopelessly as they sought to ease the lust pounding in their groins. Max pulled Liz atop his body, his hands sweeping up her spine to quickly unfasten her bra. Liz reared back only long enough for Max to slide the bra from her shoulders and toss it aside before her lips hungrily found his once more.
Max sandwiched his hands between their bodies, kneading the rounded fullness of her breasts. He rotated the pads of his thumbs against her nipples in small, maddening circles and swallowed each of Liz’s pleasured whimpers with eager fervor. The more she moaned the more demanding Max’s caresses and the sensual rolling of his hips became.
The delightful friction he was creating between her legs was nearly too much, too intense. Liz needed to see him, to touch his fevered skin just as he was touching hers. With the intention of kissing every naked inch of his body, Liz broke away from his kiss to drag her open mouth in a wet trail down his throat. She nimbly unfastened the buttons of his shirt in her descent; pressing open mouth kisses to every flash of flesh she revealed. When Liz reached the final button she sat back, straddling over Max so that she could spread the shirt wide.
Her fingers skated over his naked skin, tracing over corrugated muscle and sinew. Liz carefully watched Max’s face as she scraped her nails over his nipples, smiling to herself when he twitched and gasped beneath her. And then she began to trace over the jagged line of his surgical scar with her fingertip, her expression becoming forlornly wistful.
Seeing the look on her face, Max swept up her hand and brought it to his lips. “It’s all better,” he whispered sweetly, “I’m all better…because of you.” He didn’t want her rehashing old regrets or thinking about anything negative at that moment. For Max, the past was just that and from that moment onward he had no intention of looking back. Hoping to dispel the gloomy cloud darkening her countenance Max brushed his lips across her knuckles and asked softly, “Do you know what I remember most about being shot?”
Lulled by the soft, rich timbre of his voice as well as the nibbling kisses he pressed to her fingertips, Liz let a slow, bittersweet smile spread across her lips. “No…what?”
“You,” Max murmured thickly, “I remember waking up and feeling the most excruciating pain of my life and then…then I saw you. In that moment I knew everything would be okay because you were there beside me and I wasn’t worried anymore.”
“Really?” Liz prodded hopefully. She leaned down against his chest so that their noses were only inches from one another.
Max brushed her hair back over her shoulder, smiling over how the silken strands slipped through his fingers. “I’d be dead if it weren’t for you, Liz,” he told her in solemn earnestness, “You gave me a reason to fight, baby. So don’t blame yourself for what happened to me…don’t ever. You brought me to life.”
The combination of his sweet words and tender caresses was intoxicating to Liz. She bent her head to brush her lips across the fevered skin of his chest, kissing lower to gingerly kiss his scar, lightly laving it with her tongue. Her ministrations became bolder when she heard a pleasured moan rumble from his chest and felt his fingers fisting in her hair. She scraped her teeth across his nipple, sucked it hard so that he bowed off the bed with a soundless gasp.
Liz burned a wet trail of kisses down his corrugated abdomen, plunging her tongue into his navel briefly before kissing lower. When she came to the snap of his waistband, Liz paused and lifted her gaze to Max’s. His eyes were dark, ravenous and full of silent appeal.
In one slow, deliberate move, Liz unsnapped his waistband button, nuzzling his rigid erection through the straining material of his khakis as she did. Max jerked beneath her and gasped out her name. Spurred on by his response Liz decided to take her exploration to the next level. However, when she would have unzipped his fly and kissed him through the thin cotton of his boxers Max tangled his fingers in her hair and dragged her back up against his chest.
Their bodies an indiscernible twist of tongues and arms and legs, Max and Liz fought to free each other of their remaining clothing, awkwardly touching and kissing in desperate need. By the time they fell back against the pillows together, their bodies naked and fevered, both were gasping and laughing, their eyes sparkling with uncontained joy and riotous desire. “I love you, Liz Parker,” Max whispered, running his fingers over the gentle curve of her cheek.
Liz took his lips in a sweet kiss, rolling onto her back and pulling him with her so that he could settle eagerly between her spread thighs. “I love you, too,” she whispered back in a sigh, her eyes rolling shut when she felt the burning tip of his erection pressing demandingly into her center. “Make love to me, Max.”
Her words had the power of an aphrodisiac. It took every ounce of Max’s willpower not to lose his composure right then. “God, I’ve waited for this for so long,” he groaned as he eased inside her. He gritted his teeth at the earth-shattering pleasure of being slowly surrounded by her slippery heat. “Let me know if I hurt you,” he told her, dropping his head forward to rest against her shoulder.
Liz dug her fingernails into his forearms, biting her lip as he filled her with his throbbing length inch by maddening inch. He wasn’t hurting her. In fact it was probably one of the most amazing moments she had ever experienced. She was connected to him in every sense now, not just spiritually and emotionally any longer, but physically as well. They were finally complete. Man, woman and child. A family. Just like she’d always wanted. The realization brought tears of joy to Liz’s eyes.
Max pulled back in preparation of thrusting fully inside when he suddenly felt wetness dampening his temple. He lifted his head to find Liz weeping softly beneath him. “I’m hurting you,” he ground out fiercely with the full intention of rolling away, but Liz locked him between her thighs.
“Only if you stop,” Liz countered intensely.
“But you’re crying,” he insisted quietly.
“Because I want this moment could go on forever. I always want to be like this with you, Max.” She lifted her hips to his then, rubbing herself against the blunted tip of his erection. “Please, baby,” she implored, “Come inside me…”
He needed to further invitation. With one hard thrust he buried himself deep within her body, whimpering aloud at the intense rush he felt as her vaginal walls conformed around his rigid length. Bracing his weight onto one elbow so that he wouldn’t crush her, Max swept one hand down her body to cradle her hips, holding her captive against him as he began rhythmically pumping inside her.
Liz met the pounding demands of his body, digging the heels of her feet into the mattress and angling her hips upward to bring his length deeper within her. She pumped against him shamelessly, her passionate hunger obliterating her reason. Inside her she could feel something building, burning…poised for explosion.
Burying his face into the curve of her neck Max hammered into her, his buttocks clenching and unclenching with every hard, deep thrust as he milked the silken walls of her creamy wet center. Their breathing became harsh and loud as their hips strained against one another, undulating, grasping, frantic, driving towards the goal…yearning for it. As their moans began to blend together in a disjointed melody the world began to splinter apart, the edges blurring with the blazing ache building inside them both.
Max’s thrusts came faster and harder causing the force of their impending orgasm began to build within them both to a holocaust of turbulent need. Liz clasped Max’s body closer, wrapping her legs around his pumping hips as her climax washed over her in blinding sensation. Her breath escaped her in a long, loud serrated moan. Max followed her over the precipice quickly after, a burst of searing liquid exploding from his body that left him shaky and weak.
He rolled from her shaking, so overwhelmed by the level of intimacy they had shared that he could barely speak. After gathering her against his body, Max could only lay there, staring down at her in wonderment and amazement, his body just trembling and trembling.
Liz reached forward to brush away the sweaty tendrils of hair from his forehead, smiling softly at the expression of pure, shattered ecstasy written all over his face. “I know,” she whispered drowsily, snuggling against his side as sleep claimed her, “It was that way for me, too.”
“That had to be the most tension filled dinner party I have ever attended!” Isabel announced flatly on the drive back to her parents’ house. “I don’t know why Michael thought my being there would help things go smoothly. I was little more than a bystander, just sitting there with my mouth hanging open like everybody else.”
“Come on, Izzy, it wasn’t that bad,” Liz laughed from the backseat.
“Max made your father cry, Liz!” Isabel cried in incredulous exasperation, “I’m talking like real tears here! I kept praying that the floor would yawn open and swallow me whole.”
“Well, I think what he said was amazingly sweet,” Liz cooed, leaning into Max to nuzzle his neck.
“Yeah, I always like it when my boyfriends reduce my family to tears,” Isabel snorted, “Such a turn on!” She and Liz shared another burst of irreverent humor.
Max felt the tips of his ears redden. Now that some of his adrenaline-fueled indignation had cooled he found himself wincing in remembrance of his harsh reaction at dinner. Max did not at all regret anything that he had said to Liz’s parents, but he was beginning to realize that his reaction might not have been completely appropriate.
Jeff Parker had treated him with an amazing amount of civility despite the fact that Max had broken his daughter’s heart into a billion pieces. It didn’t particularly matter that Max hadn’t set out to hurt Liz; his thickheaded blindness had caused her droves of unnecessary pain. Max knew that night she’d given him back his ring she must have been devastated. No doubt that was the memory Jeff Parker carried in his head when Max came barging onto his property two days later. It was little wonder he’d reacted the way he had.
And yet, tonight, he had welcomed Max, accepted his daughter’s decision to take Max into her life again and how had Max reacted to such benevolence…by humiliating the man at his own dinner table. That had never been Max’s intention at all, but once the words had left his mouth he had been unable to call them back. Before he knew what had happened three months of pent up resentment and anger had spewed from his mouth and Mr. Parker was visibly rocked.
Now Max found himself second-guessing the wisdom of his actions and anxious over the possibility that Liz might secretly offended by what he had done. It was true that she seemed quite easy about the incident, even laughing it all off casually with Isabel but her dismissive demeanor could easily be a pretense she’d erected for Isabel’s sake. Perhaps, in reality, she was seething and just waiting for a moment alone where she could tell Max exactly what she thought of him. Feeling his stomach churn at that upsetting possibility Max knew he couldn’t wait until they got back to the house to discover how Liz really felt. He jostled her hand, which was loosely entwined with his own. “Are you mad?” he whispered so that only Liz could hear.
“About what?” Liz whispered in return.
“You know…about upsetting your dad.”
Liz gave his hand a reflexive squeeze. “Max, I told you it was okay,” she said gently, “In a way I’m glad it happened. My dad was upset but not because you confronted him but because he knew that every word you said was true. Tonight was the first time I really saw regret in his eyes…it was the first time I ever believed he was sorry for what he did to me…and what he did to you.”
“So you don’t think I was out of line?” Max fretted.
“I think you were perfect,” Liz declared, framing his face between her hands so that she could take his lips in a tender kiss, “I love you for it.” They hovered within inches of one another; eyes fused together in tumultuous stare…one full of longing and promise, too.
“You both have gotten awfully quiet all of a sudden,” Isabel remarked laughingly, “You’re not talking about me, are you?”
Reluctantly glancing away from Liz’s expressive, brown eyes Max grinned at his sister. “Why? Are your ears burning?” he teased.
“No whispering while I’m in the car and I can hear you,” Isabel admonished playfully, “It’s a pretty long walk back to Philip and Diane’s.”
“Mmm, no whispering,” Liz promised in mock seriousness.
The spurt of laughter they shared helped to dispel any lingering tension from dinner. “So what time are you guys leaving tomorrow?” Isabel asked when things had settled down.
“Our flight doesn’t leave until six o’clock in the evening,” Liz told her.
“That’s perfect,” Isabel squealed.
“Perfect for what?” Max demanded cautiously, already recoiling inwardly over what his sister might have planned for them. He didn’t think he could stomach an entire day dedicated to chick power. “What are you planning?”
“Well…” Isabel clarified, “Alex and I are heading out to the lake tomorrow morning and he’s been dying to see you and Liz so I thought that maybe the two of you could join us.”
Max relaxed a little with the knowledge that he wouldn’t be the only male and since he and Liz had already planned on visiting Alex the plan worked out very well. “What time are you leaving?”
“Around 10 o’clock. You interested?”
Max chanced Liz a speculative glance. “You wanna go?”
“Definitely,” Liz said without any hesitation, “We could definitely use some relaxation time after the drama we’ve dealt with in the last day.”
“Sweet!” Isabel trilled, “I’ll call Alex and tell him tonight. Hey…so now that we know what we’re doing tomorrow what do you guys wanna do tonight? I could stop and rent a movie or something.”
Again Max and Liz exchanged silent looks. “Uh…no offense to you, Izzy, but Liz and I are kinda planning on spending the rest of our evening alone,” Max replied pointedly, “You know…alone.” Liz’s mouth fell open at his unaccustomed boldness and she buried her burning face in his shoulder with a mortified squeak.
It took Isabel less than a nanosecond to decipher what her brother’s definition of alone meant. “Eww,” she cried with a mock shudder of revulsion, “I guarantee you that I won’t be within a fifty mile radius of your bedroom door tonight!”
“Good,” Max replied concisely, “Maybe you can pass the word along to Mom as well and whoever else might take it into their head to knock.”
By the time they made it back to his parents’, however, and Max had said goodnight to his family he found that much of his boldness had given way to nervousness. He stood facing Liz in his old room, his palms dampened with sweat, his heart racing as if he’d just run a marathon. He wanted to touch her, wanted to yank her into his arms and kiss her all over. There was nothing to stop him now save for his own fear. The thought of disappointing her now was almost crippling.
“So…here we are,” Liz drawled out in a whisper when Max made no move to approach her. She favored him with a suggestive look. “What do we do now?”
Max rubbed his sweaty hands against the thighs of his khakis. “I…uh…well…um…I…” He knew he needed a verb but his vocabulary just suddenly became nonexistent as he was consumed in the sensual haze of Liz’s luminous stare. She took a step towards him and Max had to check the reflexive desire to take a step back. He swallowed hard when she lifted her hands and splayed them wide across his chest, leaning into his body. In pure instinct his own hands fluttered up to cradle her face against his chest and stroke her dark, heavy hair. “Liz, I’m so scared right now,” he whispered shakily.
“Why?” Liz wondered, “We’ve done it before.”
“That time doesn’t count.”
He made the statement with such flat, brutal honesty that Liz jerked her head up in surprise. “You don’t think it counts?” she queried.
“Liz, we were drunk,” Max told her as if it were a point she had missed the first time around, “That time wasn’t about us or our love for each other. It was a copout, a lapse in judgment…the exact opposite of how our first time together should have been.”
“But we made our baby that night,” Liz reminded him tremulously.
“Sometimes I wonder if that was the only good thing to come out of that night,” Max sighed, “I can’t erase what happened between us back then, Liz, but maybe I can replace that night with one you’ll never forget.” Liz smiled up at him, her eyes fluttering in breathless pleasure as he traced his fingertips over her mouth, chin and throat. “That’s why I’m so scared right now,” he confessed in a burning whisper, “I want this time to be perfect. No interruptions, no misunderstandings…I want this time to magic for us, Liz.”
“It will be,” Liz replied with enamored certainty.
“And how can you be so sure?” Max teased with a low laugh.
“Because it’s you,” was Liz’s simple answer. She took a step back from him then and deftly pulled her shirt up and over her head before tossing it aside. While Max was still speechless over that unexpected development Liz hooked her fingers in the elastic waistband of her capri pants and pushed them down her hips. After she’d kicked her pants away, Liz straightened to face him once again, trembling slightly. She stood before him in only her bra and panties…vulnerable, silent and waiting.
His breath suspended in his chest as he took in the full onslaught of her glorious body, covered only with lacy scraps of pink and white. This was the first time he’d seen her so bare in over two months. As his eyes slid appreciatively, reverently, hungrily down her quaking length Max realized that Liz hadn’t exaggerated at all. She had started to show. Her belly was no longer flat but now alluringly convex, just a slight swell beginning just beneath her navel. He uttered her name in a ragged breath of wonder.
With his gaze on her body growing ever passionate Liz suddenly had the impulsive urge to cover herself. Did he find the changes repulsive? Her stomach was hardly swelled at all, still there was a marked difference from the taut flatness it had once had. “I…I told you that I looked different,” she stuttered out nervously.
“God, Liz,” he whispered, “you look so beautiful.” Her reaction to his candid admission was to shyly duck her head so she didn’t immediately notice Max’s gradual advance. “Can I…can I touch you?” he asked humbly.
Liz lifted her head again and nodded, only to discover that Max had closed the short distance between them. Her gaze captured by his in a silent stare, Liz leaned into Max and allowed him to turn her in his arms and pull her body back against his. As she molded herself against the length of his body, Max slid his arms beneath her own, smoothing his hands down the trim sides of her waist. He caressed her hips lightly before spreading his hands wide across her midriff to press her body even closer against him.
Max dipped his head to taste her shoulder, creeping his hands lower so that he could tenderly caress the gentle rounding of her abdomen. Max found her flesh was surprisingly firm, not at all what he expected. She hadn’t grown very large at all yet that small change in her body still seemed amazingly dramatic to Max. A wondrous peace washed over him as the understanding dawned anew that his child was growing and thriving right beneath his hand. “Oh, Liz,” he murmured thickly, his throat closing off with emotion, “I love you so much.” Max burrowed his face against her neck, hugging her hard as tears stung the backs of his eyes.
She shuddered, both from the resonant quality of his words as well as the sensual way his breath stirred against her flesh. Her skin tingled where he stroked her abdomen, his fingertips only inches from the waistband of her panties. She yearned for him to take his exploration lower, to touch the most secret part of her. The thought alone tore an audible moan from Liz’s throat. She leaned her head back against his shoulder, gasping brokenly as he slid his tongue along the delicate rim of her ear before plunging it inside. All the while his fingers continued their maddening strumming, smoothing over her belly in small circles, but never creeping lower.
Unconsciously, Liz rose onto her tiptoes in an attempt to force Max’s hand to descend. She was so caught up in wicked swirls he was making against her ear with the tip of his tongue that Max’s answering chuckle barely registered on her eager senses. Having received her unspoken invitation to proceed further, Max nuzzled Liz’s temple and dipped his fingers inside the waistband of her panties.
At first, he only sifted his fingers through the crinkly dark hair at the apex of her thighs, reacquainting himself with the coarse texture. He played with her, feinting dipping lower before retreating only to return seconds later and caress again. His teasing caresses were driving Liz insane. She stroked her hands up and down the length of his arms, urging him on, desperately trying to push his fingers lower. And then, without warning, he plunged his hand into her panties and cupped her aching sex, simultaneously sweeping his free hand up the length of her body to take hold of her breast.
Liz gurgled a moan of mindless pleasure, her knees turning completely to jelly as Max began stroking her weeping center with one hand and fanning one distended nipple with the other. She turned her head fitfully against his shoulder, unconsciously mewling his name in gasping delight. Liz undulated against his sliding fingers, not only aroused by the burning pleasure his fingers created as they slid in and out of her silky, hot body, but also the insistent rigidity of his erection pressing boldly into her backside. “Max,” Liz gasped, grabbing hold of his hand in an attempt to coax his fingers back inside her, “Max…Max, please…”
“Shh…Liz, we don’t have to rush,” he whispered, slipping his hand from her breast down her quivering belly to still the spasmodic jerking of her hips, “All night, baby…we’ve got all night.”
“Let’s…let’s lie down,” Liz murmured in a staccato breath. The moment the words left her mouth Max swept her up into his arms and began bearing her towards the bed. “You’ve done this before,” she whispered vaguely as he lay her down against the cool sheets, “That night…in your room…”
Max stared at her in mute surprise. “You remember?” he asked, his eyes anxious with hope.
“Only some things,” Liz said softly, “Others are still a blur though.” She reached up to caress his jaw, sliding her fingers around to his nape to bury them in his hair. “Help me remember, Max,” she urged as she pulled him down beside her, “Help me…”
Max took her lips in a torridly, his tongue tangling with hers in a hungry duel for dominance, fueling the desire burning between them from a flickering flame to a raging inferno. It wasn’t merely enough to kiss, to sweep his tongue inside her mouth again and again. Max wanted to Liz to absorb him into her body, he wanted her to feel him aching in her blood much the way he felt her aching in his. He gathered her up against his length, his mouth and hands wild and frenzied.
They tangled together, grasping, gripping, undulating, rumpling the sheets hopelessly as they sought to ease the lust pounding in their groins. Max pulled Liz atop his body, his hands sweeping up her spine to quickly unfasten her bra. Liz reared back only long enough for Max to slide the bra from her shoulders and toss it aside before her lips hungrily found his once more.
Max sandwiched his hands between their bodies, kneading the rounded fullness of her breasts. He rotated the pads of his thumbs against her nipples in small, maddening circles and swallowed each of Liz’s pleasured whimpers with eager fervor. The more she moaned the more demanding Max’s caresses and the sensual rolling of his hips became.
The delightful friction he was creating between her legs was nearly too much, too intense. Liz needed to see him, to touch his fevered skin just as he was touching hers. With the intention of kissing every naked inch of his body, Liz broke away from his kiss to drag her open mouth in a wet trail down his throat. She nimbly unfastened the buttons of his shirt in her descent; pressing open mouth kisses to every flash of flesh she revealed. When Liz reached the final button she sat back, straddling over Max so that she could spread the shirt wide.
Her fingers skated over his naked skin, tracing over corrugated muscle and sinew. Liz carefully watched Max’s face as she scraped her nails over his nipples, smiling to herself when he twitched and gasped beneath her. And then she began to trace over the jagged line of his surgical scar with her fingertip, her expression becoming forlornly wistful.
Seeing the look on her face, Max swept up her hand and brought it to his lips. “It’s all better,” he whispered sweetly, “I’m all better…because of you.” He didn’t want her rehashing old regrets or thinking about anything negative at that moment. For Max, the past was just that and from that moment onward he had no intention of looking back. Hoping to dispel the gloomy cloud darkening her countenance Max brushed his lips across her knuckles and asked softly, “Do you know what I remember most about being shot?”
Lulled by the soft, rich timbre of his voice as well as the nibbling kisses he pressed to her fingertips, Liz let a slow, bittersweet smile spread across her lips. “No…what?”
“You,” Max murmured thickly, “I remember waking up and feeling the most excruciating pain of my life and then…then I saw you. In that moment I knew everything would be okay because you were there beside me and I wasn’t worried anymore.”
“Really?” Liz prodded hopefully. She leaned down against his chest so that their noses were only inches from one another.
Max brushed her hair back over her shoulder, smiling over how the silken strands slipped through his fingers. “I’d be dead if it weren’t for you, Liz,” he told her in solemn earnestness, “You gave me a reason to fight, baby. So don’t blame yourself for what happened to me…don’t ever. You brought me to life.”
The combination of his sweet words and tender caresses was intoxicating to Liz. She bent her head to brush her lips across the fevered skin of his chest, kissing lower to gingerly kiss his scar, lightly laving it with her tongue. Her ministrations became bolder when she heard a pleasured moan rumble from his chest and felt his fingers fisting in her hair. She scraped her teeth across his nipple, sucked it hard so that he bowed off the bed with a soundless gasp.
Liz burned a wet trail of kisses down his corrugated abdomen, plunging her tongue into his navel briefly before kissing lower. When she came to the snap of his waistband, Liz paused and lifted her gaze to Max’s. His eyes were dark, ravenous and full of silent appeal.
In one slow, deliberate move, Liz unsnapped his waistband button, nuzzling his rigid erection through the straining material of his khakis as she did. Max jerked beneath her and gasped out her name. Spurred on by his response Liz decided to take her exploration to the next level. However, when she would have unzipped his fly and kissed him through the thin cotton of his boxers Max tangled his fingers in her hair and dragged her back up against his chest.
Their bodies an indiscernible twist of tongues and arms and legs, Max and Liz fought to free each other of their remaining clothing, awkwardly touching and kissing in desperate need. By the time they fell back against the pillows together, their bodies naked and fevered, both were gasping and laughing, their eyes sparkling with uncontained joy and riotous desire. “I love you, Liz Parker,” Max whispered, running his fingers over the gentle curve of her cheek.
Liz took his lips in a sweet kiss, rolling onto her back and pulling him with her so that he could settle eagerly between her spread thighs. “I love you, too,” she whispered back in a sigh, her eyes rolling shut when she felt the burning tip of his erection pressing demandingly into her center. “Make love to me, Max.”
Her words had the power of an aphrodisiac. It took every ounce of Max’s willpower not to lose his composure right then. “God, I’ve waited for this for so long,” he groaned as he eased inside her. He gritted his teeth at the earth-shattering pleasure of being slowly surrounded by her slippery heat. “Let me know if I hurt you,” he told her, dropping his head forward to rest against her shoulder.
Liz dug her fingernails into his forearms, biting her lip as he filled her with his throbbing length inch by maddening inch. He wasn’t hurting her. In fact it was probably one of the most amazing moments she had ever experienced. She was connected to him in every sense now, not just spiritually and emotionally any longer, but physically as well. They were finally complete. Man, woman and child. A family. Just like she’d always wanted. The realization brought tears of joy to Liz’s eyes.
Max pulled back in preparation of thrusting fully inside when he suddenly felt wetness dampening his temple. He lifted his head to find Liz weeping softly beneath him. “I’m hurting you,” he ground out fiercely with the full intention of rolling away, but Liz locked him between her thighs.
“Only if you stop,” Liz countered intensely.
“But you’re crying,” he insisted quietly.
“Because I want this moment could go on forever. I always want to be like this with you, Max.” She lifted her hips to his then, rubbing herself against the blunted tip of his erection. “Please, baby,” she implored, “Come inside me…”
He needed to further invitation. With one hard thrust he buried himself deep within her body, whimpering aloud at the intense rush he felt as her vaginal walls conformed around his rigid length. Bracing his weight onto one elbow so that he wouldn’t crush her, Max swept one hand down her body to cradle her hips, holding her captive against him as he began rhythmically pumping inside her.
Liz met the pounding demands of his body, digging the heels of her feet into the mattress and angling her hips upward to bring his length deeper within her. She pumped against him shamelessly, her passionate hunger obliterating her reason. Inside her she could feel something building, burning…poised for explosion.
Burying his face into the curve of her neck Max hammered into her, his buttocks clenching and unclenching with every hard, deep thrust as he milked the silken walls of her creamy wet center. Their breathing became harsh and loud as their hips strained against one another, undulating, grasping, frantic, driving towards the goal…yearning for it. As their moans began to blend together in a disjointed melody the world began to splinter apart, the edges blurring with the blazing ache building inside them both.
Max’s thrusts came faster and harder causing the force of their impending orgasm began to build within them both to a holocaust of turbulent need. Liz clasped Max’s body closer, wrapping her legs around his pumping hips as her climax washed over her in blinding sensation. Her breath escaped her in a long, loud serrated moan. Max followed her over the precipice quickly after, a burst of searing liquid exploding from his body that left him shaky and weak.
He rolled from her shaking, so overwhelmed by the level of intimacy they had shared that he could barely speak. After gathering her against his body, Max could only lay there, staring down at her in wonderment and amazement, his body just trembling and trembling.
Liz reached forward to brush away the sweaty tendrils of hair from his forehead, smiling softly at the expression of pure, shattered ecstasy written all over his face. “I know,” she whispered drowsily, snuggling against his side as sleep claimed her, “It was that way for me, too.”
-
Deejonaise
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2002 12:48 am
- Location: On my rusty dusty...
Chapter Sixty-Six
Liz awakened the following morning to find Max singing softly to her belly. She bit back a laughing smile as his husky voice, slightly off key, drifted up to her ears:
I’ve got so much honey
The bees envy me
I’ve got a sweeter song
Than the birds in the trees
I guess you’d say
What can make me
Feel this way
My girls…my girls…my girls…
Talking bout my girls…
My girls…
A large knot of emotion had formed in Liz’s throat by the time his voice had trailed away and she reached her hand forward to tenderly finger his rumpled hair, hoping to transmit every ounce of feeling she could into that simple caress.
Max jerked upright at her unexpected touch, his eyes wide and sheepish like a child caught in the midst of naughtiness. “I…I wasn’t trying to wake you,” he stammered out in mortified explanation.
“Obviously,” Liz observed with a knowing smile.
Max’s face bloomed with a full blush. “You think I’m really lame, don’t you?” he predicted flatly.
“I think you’re magnificent,” Liz replied softly, “Are you gonna sing to the baby once she gets here?”
“Definitely,” Max answered without hesitation, “All the books say that they can hear your voice even in the womb so I thought I’d start early. She’ll have a love for the Temptations once she gets here, that’s for sure.”
“And what if she’s not a girl,” Liz prodded teasingly, “You might just have to pick a new song.”
“Oh, I’m absolutely certain she’s a girl,” Max said smugly as he stretched out beside her and patted her abdomen affectionately, “I’ve got a sense about these things.”
She shifted onto her side to face him. “Oh really?” Liz challenged with a lift of her brows.
“Yes, really,” Max confirmed, pecking her lips.
Liz crinkled her nose in disdain as the minty freshness of Max’s breath wafted against her face. “Hey, no fair,” she accused, bringing the comforter up over her mouth, “You brushed already!”
“I love you, Liz,” Max teased, gathering her body flush against his, “morning breath and all!” But when he tried to kiss her Liz shoved his face away.
“Don’t even try it,” she warned a second before rolling from the bed, “No kisses until I’ve at least gargled.”
He watched as she sashayed across the room nude to find something to wear, studying the subtle changes that had taken place in her body with salacious hunger. “Do you have a robe or anything?” she asked him while simultaneously rummaging through her suitcase for a change of clothing and her toothbrush. A few seconds later the balled up remnants of his discarded shirt smacked the side of her head. Liz leveled Max with a sour look. “You’re so not funny,” she told him tartly as she shrugged into the shirt but there was a smile on her face in spite of her severe tone. Liz didn’t think she could stop smiling at that moment if she wanted to.
Max watched as she started to leave, his lower lip pulled down in a regretful, boyish pout. “You won’t be gone long, will you?” he asked sweetly.
Liz turned back to face him, desire flickering within her anew, to discover that Max had moved the center of the bed. The sheets were pooled down around his lap, leaving his muscled chest bare and golden in the coming dawn. His bed hair, which shot in all directions and was flattened to one side of his head, only seemed to add to his sexy appeal rather than distract from it. “Oh, enough with the look,” she laughed with an eye-rolling look of exasperation, “You can come, too!” Max’s face broke out in a wide grin and he threw back the covers.
That was what he’d been hoping for all along.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Max sat on the shore with Alex watching as Liz and Isabel frolicked laughingly in the lake before them, a small, unconscious smile touching his lips.
He’d had a full morning. After awkwardly making love to Liz that morning in the cramped confines of the shower stall he had shared breakfast and a bittersweet good-bye with his parents. He hadn’t promised them that he’d be returning though he did have every intention of coming back. However, it was important to Max to progress on his on terms. The fact that he was actually contemplating a visit was proof that he was moving towards forgiveness. He just wasn’t quite ready to admit that fact aloud.
Afterwards he, Liz and Isabel scrambled to load Isabel’s car with their luggage so that they could pick up Alex. Max had needlessly prepared himself for seeing Tess’ home again, however, because Isabel picked Alex up from the pizza joint where he worked. Isabel, Max learned after that, was no more welcome at the Harding estate than he was. Still, despite his uncle’s obvious disdain for Isabel and her family, the friendship she shared with Alex seemed to be thriving. The four teens spent most of their morning laughing and joking with one another, hardly weighed down by their real life issues at all.
“So you and Liz, huh?” Alex prodded with a grin, noting the besotted expression on Max’s face as he watched Liz and Isabel splash around.
“Huh?” Max grunted, jerking his head around at Alex’s question.
“You two have been smiling and staring at each other all morning,” Alex clarified, “Isabel told me you guys were living together, but that it was just a roommate arrangement. But I’ve been watching you both ever since Izzy picked me up and you seem like a helluva lot more than roommates.”
Max hooked his forearms around his up drawn knees and squinted up into the sun, careful to keep his expression neutral. “How do you feel about it?” he inquired tentatively. He casually slid on his sunglasses, hoping to cover his nervousness over Alex’s possible reactions.
“She laughing a lot…it’s obvious she’s happy, maybe happier than I’ve ever seen her,” Alex commented, “I have to assume that’s because of you.”
Max expelled a relieved sigh. “Well, she makes me happy, too,” he replied but even saying that seemed an inadequate way to describe what Liz meant to him. She was the other half of his soul and she had always been. “I think it might actually work out for us this time,” he told Alex, the corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile.
“Good to know,” Alex grumbled good-naturedly, “I couldn’t take another round of drama with you two.” He and Max shared a round of manly chuckles. “Seriously, dude,” Alex said when some of his mirth had subsided, “I really hope things go smoothly for you this time.”
“They will,” Max declared for a certainty, “Liz and I belong together.”
Alex regarded Max in thoughtful surprise. “I really think you might,” he agreed quietly, “I didn’t always think so but now…you’ve definitely convinced me.”
Just that small vote of approval from Alex made Max feel as if he’d accomplished something profound. The longer he knew Alex the more he grew to respect him. “So how about you and Isabel?” Max asked, effortlessly switching their conversation to a lighter topic, “I’ve got eyes, too, Alex. You two seem pretty close,” he added in clarification when Alex blushed.
“Well, we’re friends,” he replied carefully, tracing out an “I” in the dirt with the tip of a stick, “We’ve gotten to know one another really well in the last month.”
“You’re friends?” Max echoed in disbelief, “That’s all.”
Alex shrugged. “That’s all Isabel wants it to be,” he said dryly, “She got a little relationship shy after everything went down with you and Liz and then your parents teetering on the edge of divorce didn’t help matters either.”
“I guess I can understand that,” Max replied, glancing back to where his sister and girlfriend were engaged in a mock water fight, “I wouldn’t give up on her though.”
“Oh, I don’t plan to,” Alex laughed, “I actually planned to try and convince her of the reasons why she should give us a chance while we were together today, but we ended up with some unexpected company.”
“Damn, Alex!” Max cried, quickly catching the wry edge to Alex’s tone, “I didn’t know that Liz and I were crashing your plans! Do you want us to go?”
“Get a grip, man!” Alex cried, grabbing hold Max’s forearm when he started to roll to his feet, “If you leave now your sister will hand me my head on a plate. It’s fine…really.”
“Are you sure?” Max prodded, “Liz and I can still make ourselves scarce.”
“And how do you propose to do that?” Alex demanded dryly.
Max flicked his gaze to a small boat tethered no so far away. “We could go out on the lake and give you two a moment.” Alex looked to be seriously thinking over Max’s proposal when Max added on for further emphasis, “Hey, this works out for me, too. I’m wanting a little alone time myself.”
Alex finished nodding his consent just as the girls came tripping up to them, dripping wet and giggling.
“You two are so boring,” Isabel scolded in exasperation, plunking her hands onto her generous hips, “Neither one of you have been in the water yet.”
“Don’t wanna get wet,” Max replied, pushing his sunglasses up on his nose, “At least, not the way you’re thinking.” He wiggled his brows lasciviously at Liz. He nudged Alex’s shoulder who, in turn, favored Isabel with a knowing wink.
“Ugh!” Isabel grunted with a mock shudder of revulsion, “Can you be more disgusting?”
“What?” Max cried in feigned innocence.
“Seriously, Max, are you gonna get in the water or not,” Liz pouted with a smile, “If Mohammed won’t come to the mountain then…”
“Actually,” Max drawled, cutting Liz off in mid-threat by grabbing her arm and pulling her down into his lap, “I was thinking we could go out on the water together.” He pointed over at the small boat hovering near the shore. “On that.”
It took some work but Max finally managed to convince Liz of the romantic merits of taking the impromptu boat ride. However, her expression continued to hold a heavy degree of skepticism as he leisurely rowed the boat through the water. They were out in the middle of the lake when Liz asked, “So why are we really out here risking life and limb in this rickety old boat, Max?”
“This boat is not rickety!” Max protested with an impish grin, “I’ll have you know that my dad has this boat checked for damages annually!” Liz sang out his name between clenched teeth, curling her fingers in the universal sign of choking as if to say, “Tell me or that’s it, buddy.” Max released an inward sigh. “Alex wanted some time alone with Izzy,” he admitted.
Liz slapped her thigh loudly. “I just knew this was a set up,” she said, wagging her index finger at him, “There were too many secret looks going back and forth between you and Alex.”
“It’s not completely a set-up,” Max countered, grabbing hold of her hand so that he could pull her into his lap, “I had some plans of my own.” The boat rocked precariously as he did and Liz couldn’t help but release a shriek of terror. “Relax,” he soothed as she settled down over him, “We’re not gonna tip over.”
Her body only losing some of its rigidity Liz positioned herself in a full straddle over Max’s lap, bringing up her knees so that they rested near his armpits. They shifted a little more in order to adjust their positions more comfortably, so that Liz could fold her knees beneath her body. Their movements caused the boat to bobble on the water before they finally found a position they could live with. Once they were settled Liz crumpled against Max’s chest with a shuddering sigh of relief. He smiled over her dramatic reaction and pressed a kiss to her temple. “See?” he laughed, “I told you we wouldn’t tip over.”
“Maybe we should move as little as possible,” Liz suggested in uncertainty, obviously not the least bit reassured by the fact they hadn’t capsized. She braced her small hands against the sides of the boat as if that minute action would help to keep the boat upright. As Max watched her he noted how her skin had suddenly taken on a pale green cast.
“I see not much has changed since we were kids,” he observed dryly.
“What?” Liz croaked in disinterest. At present she was trying very hard not to throw up or pass out. Both scenarios seemed very likely at the moment.
“You still get seasick,” Max accused flatly, “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”
“I thought I was fine. You paddled all this way and I didn’t feel a thing,” Liz protested weakly, “But all the boat rocking made me feel nauseous and dizzy.”
“We should go back,” Max whispered, much of the admonishment in his tone replaced with gentle concern.
“No,” Liz moaned, “We need to stay here and give Alex and Isabel more time. Izzy needs this but…but she’s just too scared to admit it.”
“We shouldn’t interfere, Liz,” Max warned her gently, cradling her face between his hands, “Iz needs to decide for herself if this is what she wants.”
“I’m not influencing her decision, Max,” Liz replied, “I’m just giving her the time she needs to make up her mind.” Her gaze became probing as she tacked on, “After what our parents did to us I would never interfere in someone else’s life that way, Max. You do know that, right?”
“Yes, I know it,” Max whispered tenderly, “I guess I just needed to be sure.” They rested their foreheads against one another, the only sound passing between them consisting of their breathing and the water lapping against the sides of the boat. Liz clenched her fingers into Max’s bare shoulders as another wave of dizzy spilled over her. “We can’t stay out here,” he said, noting the subtle change in her body, “You’re sick, Liz.”
“Distract me,” Liz suggested wildly, “Just take my mind off this boat’s awful rocking and I’ll be fine.”
“Somehow I don’t think it works that way, Liz,” Max argued sardonically.
“Please, Max,” Liz pleaded in a weak whisper, “I don’t want to go back just yet…not yet, okay?” Max reluctantly agreed despite his better judgment. “Thank you,” Liz replied sincerely, which only produced a round of disjointed grumbling from Max. “I love you,” she added for emphasis. More grumbling. “Max, come on,” Liz coaxed in a whine.
“You’re sick, Liz,” he emphasized again, a little impatiently this time, “What do you want me to do?”
“Hold me, Max,” Liz murmured, “Kiss me.”
Max expelled a long, serrated sigh and did as she asked. The kiss, which began with much reluctance on Max’s part, slowly became something more intimate as Liz opened her mouth over his and fed him her tongue. By the time Liz came up for air she had forgotten, for the moment, that she had felt ill at all. Obviously, so had Max. He tunneled his fingers through her hair, his eyes darting over her features as if seeing her for the first time in his life. “God, you’re so damned beautiful,” he whispered reverently.
“So are you,” Liz returned, her own fingers on a hungry exploration of their own. She touched his hair, his face, his bare shoulders. Wherever she could caress, touch, taste…she did. She murmured his name into his throat, moaning a little as she felt his hands curve up her back to pull the thin, spandex straps of her bathing suit from her shoulders.
“Tell me if you need to stop,” Max urged as he pushed the clinging material down completely around her waist, baring her sun kissed breasts to his hot eyes. He pressed his open mouth against her neck, his lips meandering a moist path down her chest. “Is this okay,” he asked even as he began licking her exposed skin hungrily.
Liz couldn’t even answer. His lips and tongue were making her lightheaded. “Max…Max,” she moaned, her body going absolutely boneless when he latched onto one aching nipple. She arched her back, pushing herself deeper into the warm vortex of his mouth. “Oh…oh…oh,” Liz gasped as he began to suck, “Oh…Max…oh god….”
“You taste so sweet,” Max murmured against her skin, his desire fanned by her guttural moans of ecstasy. He opened his mouth wider over her nipple, bathing the turgid peak with his tongue before showering the other breast with the same diligent attention. He snaked his tongue between the valley of her breasts where he nuzzled her, breathing in her scent like a starving man. She tasted like sunshine and salt and sex. Needing to be closer, Max leaned back slightly, taking Liz with him. Their shift caused the boat to bob gently once more but neither of them noticed the movement.
Liz braced herself above Max’s body, her hair falling around them like an inky curtain. She allowed him to feast on her breasts with his eyes and hands and mouth while she rocked her lower body against his hardening cock. His hands raced up and down her back with fiery urgency before he hooked his fingers into her bikini bottoms and began tugging them down her hips. Liz reared back in surprise, her eyes wide and wild when she realized that he wanted to make love right there in the boat, not merely make-out as she’d first assumed.
“Take them off,” Max ordered gruffly, his eyes dark and hooded as he regarded her. She quickly did as he commanded, averting her eyes as he shimmied free of his own swim trunks. Once they were both naked Liz scrambled back into Max lap and their mouths crashed together in a sizzling kiss. Max didn’t bother with preliminaries. He reached down between their straining bodies and used the tip of his arousal to probe for Liz’s wet center. They both released coinciding moans of pleasure when Max finally pushed his way inside.
Their movements were constricted due to the confines of the boat, but fluid and passionate nonetheless. Liz pressed Max’s thighs hard between her own as he began to rock inside her. She met each of his thrusts by grinding down against him, surging downward each time he surged forward. The boat began to sway precariously with the gaining momentum of their lovemaking.
The boat’s swinging hardly bothered Liz however. She had her eyes closed, refusing to focus on anything beyond the profound connection of their bodies, the sensation of Max’s filling her up again and again. She tightened her slick, vaginal muscles around him, wanting to draw his hardened length even deeper.
But for Max it was too much. Already sheathed in the tight, creamy cavity of her body, having slick walls contract around his cock shattered the remains of his tenuous self-control. He became frenzied with the need to finish it, to reach the goal and to take her with him. He drove into her hard, deep, fast, over and over, his hips bucking in no discernible rhythm, his body driven by pure need. “Oh shit…oh…oh fuck…oh…oh my god…oh my god…oh god…fuck…fuck!” he chanted mindlessly as he strained and grasped for the finish that was just beyond his reach.
Liz’s entire body jerked with pleasured pain as Max lifted his hips high and hard, burying himself deeper than ever before when he felt the cascading rush of her climax bathe his cock. The feeling was more than enough to prompt Max’s own tumultuous orgasm. Their cries of mutual sensation were long and loud, bouncing off the surface of the water before reverberating into the air and dissipating into the treetops.
Her head was thrown back, her features still contorted in a grimace that was part bliss, part ache when Max opened his eyes again. “God, did I hurt you?” he whispered in uncertainty, the satiated desire he’d felt moments earlier instantly replaced with regret. She wasn’t in pain, but Liz didn’t get the opportunity to tell him that. His sweet question full of boyish concern suddenly sparked a plethora of memories that had been heretofore hidden in Liz’s mind:
“Does it hurt? Do you want me to stop?”
“Go deeper, Max… Please…”
“Max…Max…please…please…don’t stop…don’t ever….”
“Perfect. You feel so perfect. Mine…my Lizzie…my girl.”
“Come for me, baby… Come…come…”
The entire night did not come back to her, but for Liz what she did remember was more than enough. That one moment, that one brilliant moment when Max joined his body with hers…when he made them one had suddenly become crystallized in Liz’s head. She could remember with vibrant clarity how wonderful he had smelled that night, an intoxicating combination of whiskey, his cologne and her body spray. She could remember how astonishing it felt to have him so deep inside her, painful, but breathtaking, too. She could remember that very moment when he took her over the edge and joined her there and how he had whispered her name over and over.
She could remember the feeling of finally being complete, whole…for the first time in their marriage, even their entire relationship. It was perhaps the first time she had ever seen all of Max, not just physically, but really had seen his soul…just as he had seen hers in return. That night the liquor had stripped away all not only their inhibitions, but their public facades, those hidden feelings they hadn’t even admitted to themselves, much less each other. There had been nothing left but naked, soul-destroying truth.
Max had loved her then. He hadn’t been able to hide it. It had been plain in his eyes that night they had made love. Liz had seen it. She had felt it and she had forgotten. Had she remembered that night, had she remembered that look of absolute rapture in his eyes what would she have done differently? She doubted she would have left his bed so quickly afterwards if at all. Perhaps she would always wonder…
The memory was so overwhelming for Liz, so sudden that she actually began to cry. All the “what if” possibilities just seemed like too much to contemplate. Helpless to the emotion streaking through her right then, Liz wrapped her arms around Max’s neck and wept brokenly into his shoulder.
“Liz, Liz, what’s wrong, baby?” Max asked urgently, his words hoarse with tears of worry, “Did I hurt you, Liz? Did I hurt the baby? Please talk to me…”
“You…you…l-love…m-me…” Liz hiccupped against his shoulder.
Once he realized that her tears weren’t the result of some pain he might have caused Max felt some of the tension ease from his body. He framed her face with his hands, gently bringing her tearful gaze to his. “Of course I love you,” he half laughed, half cried, “Isn’t that the point?”
“But for a long time,” Liz sniffled, “Not just since you were shot, right?”
“Yeah…I’ve loved you for a while,” Max confessed softly, wholly unsure of where their conversation was going, “I think I did probably even before we got married but I didn’t want to admit it to myself.”
“Would things have been different if I had told you how I felt about you way back then?” Liz wondered quietly.
“I don’t know…maybe. Maybe not,” Max answered, “We can’t go back in time and change things. And besides…it doesn’t matter anymore. We’re together now…we’ll always be together.”
“I still wish I had done things differently,” Liz whispered regretfully.
“Why?” Max charged, “Everything that happened between us brought us to this moment, right? We’re better people for the experience…I know I am. I know I can give you the love you deserve now and I’m grateful for that. I’m grateful for you…in a way that I probably wouldn’t have been before. I love you, Liz…not like a boy loves a girl, but how a man loves a woman. Do you understand?”
“I think so,” she murmured, her eyes stinging anew at the combination of his gentle words and fervent expression.
“Good,” Max said solemnly, “Because I never want you to doubt my love for you. I want you to taste it, touch it…feel it everyday for the rest of our lives. You’re the only one I want, Liz. You always have been and you always will be. I could never be with anyone else.”
“Are you sure about that?” Liz joked shakily, licking at the tears gathering at the corners of her mouth, “Cuz you’re gonna be stuck with me for awhile…probably forever. Because, after such an incredibly sweet speech, I’ll definitely never let you go again.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Max whispered, leaning forward to brush her lips in a tender kiss, “For the rest of your life...”
Liz awakened the following morning to find Max singing softly to her belly. She bit back a laughing smile as his husky voice, slightly off key, drifted up to her ears:
I’ve got so much honey
The bees envy me
I’ve got a sweeter song
Than the birds in the trees
I guess you’d say
What can make me
Feel this way
My girls…my girls…my girls…
Talking bout my girls…
My girls…
A large knot of emotion had formed in Liz’s throat by the time his voice had trailed away and she reached her hand forward to tenderly finger his rumpled hair, hoping to transmit every ounce of feeling she could into that simple caress.
Max jerked upright at her unexpected touch, his eyes wide and sheepish like a child caught in the midst of naughtiness. “I…I wasn’t trying to wake you,” he stammered out in mortified explanation.
“Obviously,” Liz observed with a knowing smile.
Max’s face bloomed with a full blush. “You think I’m really lame, don’t you?” he predicted flatly.
“I think you’re magnificent,” Liz replied softly, “Are you gonna sing to the baby once she gets here?”
“Definitely,” Max answered without hesitation, “All the books say that they can hear your voice even in the womb so I thought I’d start early. She’ll have a love for the Temptations once she gets here, that’s for sure.”
“And what if she’s not a girl,” Liz prodded teasingly, “You might just have to pick a new song.”
“Oh, I’m absolutely certain she’s a girl,” Max said smugly as he stretched out beside her and patted her abdomen affectionately, “I’ve got a sense about these things.”
She shifted onto her side to face him. “Oh really?” Liz challenged with a lift of her brows.
“Yes, really,” Max confirmed, pecking her lips.
Liz crinkled her nose in disdain as the minty freshness of Max’s breath wafted against her face. “Hey, no fair,” she accused, bringing the comforter up over her mouth, “You brushed already!”
“I love you, Liz,” Max teased, gathering her body flush against his, “morning breath and all!” But when he tried to kiss her Liz shoved his face away.
“Don’t even try it,” she warned a second before rolling from the bed, “No kisses until I’ve at least gargled.”
He watched as she sashayed across the room nude to find something to wear, studying the subtle changes that had taken place in her body with salacious hunger. “Do you have a robe or anything?” she asked him while simultaneously rummaging through her suitcase for a change of clothing and her toothbrush. A few seconds later the balled up remnants of his discarded shirt smacked the side of her head. Liz leveled Max with a sour look. “You’re so not funny,” she told him tartly as she shrugged into the shirt but there was a smile on her face in spite of her severe tone. Liz didn’t think she could stop smiling at that moment if she wanted to.
Max watched as she started to leave, his lower lip pulled down in a regretful, boyish pout. “You won’t be gone long, will you?” he asked sweetly.
Liz turned back to face him, desire flickering within her anew, to discover that Max had moved the center of the bed. The sheets were pooled down around his lap, leaving his muscled chest bare and golden in the coming dawn. His bed hair, which shot in all directions and was flattened to one side of his head, only seemed to add to his sexy appeal rather than distract from it. “Oh, enough with the look,” she laughed with an eye-rolling look of exasperation, “You can come, too!” Max’s face broke out in a wide grin and he threw back the covers.
That was what he’d been hoping for all along.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Max sat on the shore with Alex watching as Liz and Isabel frolicked laughingly in the lake before them, a small, unconscious smile touching his lips.
He’d had a full morning. After awkwardly making love to Liz that morning in the cramped confines of the shower stall he had shared breakfast and a bittersweet good-bye with his parents. He hadn’t promised them that he’d be returning though he did have every intention of coming back. However, it was important to Max to progress on his on terms. The fact that he was actually contemplating a visit was proof that he was moving towards forgiveness. He just wasn’t quite ready to admit that fact aloud.
Afterwards he, Liz and Isabel scrambled to load Isabel’s car with their luggage so that they could pick up Alex. Max had needlessly prepared himself for seeing Tess’ home again, however, because Isabel picked Alex up from the pizza joint where he worked. Isabel, Max learned after that, was no more welcome at the Harding estate than he was. Still, despite his uncle’s obvious disdain for Isabel and her family, the friendship she shared with Alex seemed to be thriving. The four teens spent most of their morning laughing and joking with one another, hardly weighed down by their real life issues at all.
“So you and Liz, huh?” Alex prodded with a grin, noting the besotted expression on Max’s face as he watched Liz and Isabel splash around.
“Huh?” Max grunted, jerking his head around at Alex’s question.
“You two have been smiling and staring at each other all morning,” Alex clarified, “Isabel told me you guys were living together, but that it was just a roommate arrangement. But I’ve been watching you both ever since Izzy picked me up and you seem like a helluva lot more than roommates.”
Max hooked his forearms around his up drawn knees and squinted up into the sun, careful to keep his expression neutral. “How do you feel about it?” he inquired tentatively. He casually slid on his sunglasses, hoping to cover his nervousness over Alex’s possible reactions.
“She laughing a lot…it’s obvious she’s happy, maybe happier than I’ve ever seen her,” Alex commented, “I have to assume that’s because of you.”
Max expelled a relieved sigh. “Well, she makes me happy, too,” he replied but even saying that seemed an inadequate way to describe what Liz meant to him. She was the other half of his soul and she had always been. “I think it might actually work out for us this time,” he told Alex, the corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile.
“Good to know,” Alex grumbled good-naturedly, “I couldn’t take another round of drama with you two.” He and Max shared a round of manly chuckles. “Seriously, dude,” Alex said when some of his mirth had subsided, “I really hope things go smoothly for you this time.”
“They will,” Max declared for a certainty, “Liz and I belong together.”
Alex regarded Max in thoughtful surprise. “I really think you might,” he agreed quietly, “I didn’t always think so but now…you’ve definitely convinced me.”
Just that small vote of approval from Alex made Max feel as if he’d accomplished something profound. The longer he knew Alex the more he grew to respect him. “So how about you and Isabel?” Max asked, effortlessly switching their conversation to a lighter topic, “I’ve got eyes, too, Alex. You two seem pretty close,” he added in clarification when Alex blushed.
“Well, we’re friends,” he replied carefully, tracing out an “I” in the dirt with the tip of a stick, “We’ve gotten to know one another really well in the last month.”
“You’re friends?” Max echoed in disbelief, “That’s all.”
Alex shrugged. “That’s all Isabel wants it to be,” he said dryly, “She got a little relationship shy after everything went down with you and Liz and then your parents teetering on the edge of divorce didn’t help matters either.”
“I guess I can understand that,” Max replied, glancing back to where his sister and girlfriend were engaged in a mock water fight, “I wouldn’t give up on her though.”
“Oh, I don’t plan to,” Alex laughed, “I actually planned to try and convince her of the reasons why she should give us a chance while we were together today, but we ended up with some unexpected company.”
“Damn, Alex!” Max cried, quickly catching the wry edge to Alex’s tone, “I didn’t know that Liz and I were crashing your plans! Do you want us to go?”
“Get a grip, man!” Alex cried, grabbing hold Max’s forearm when he started to roll to his feet, “If you leave now your sister will hand me my head on a plate. It’s fine…really.”
“Are you sure?” Max prodded, “Liz and I can still make ourselves scarce.”
“And how do you propose to do that?” Alex demanded dryly.
Max flicked his gaze to a small boat tethered no so far away. “We could go out on the lake and give you two a moment.” Alex looked to be seriously thinking over Max’s proposal when Max added on for further emphasis, “Hey, this works out for me, too. I’m wanting a little alone time myself.”
Alex finished nodding his consent just as the girls came tripping up to them, dripping wet and giggling.
“You two are so boring,” Isabel scolded in exasperation, plunking her hands onto her generous hips, “Neither one of you have been in the water yet.”
“Don’t wanna get wet,” Max replied, pushing his sunglasses up on his nose, “At least, not the way you’re thinking.” He wiggled his brows lasciviously at Liz. He nudged Alex’s shoulder who, in turn, favored Isabel with a knowing wink.
“Ugh!” Isabel grunted with a mock shudder of revulsion, “Can you be more disgusting?”
“What?” Max cried in feigned innocence.
“Seriously, Max, are you gonna get in the water or not,” Liz pouted with a smile, “If Mohammed won’t come to the mountain then…”
“Actually,” Max drawled, cutting Liz off in mid-threat by grabbing her arm and pulling her down into his lap, “I was thinking we could go out on the water together.” He pointed over at the small boat hovering near the shore. “On that.”
It took some work but Max finally managed to convince Liz of the romantic merits of taking the impromptu boat ride. However, her expression continued to hold a heavy degree of skepticism as he leisurely rowed the boat through the water. They were out in the middle of the lake when Liz asked, “So why are we really out here risking life and limb in this rickety old boat, Max?”
“This boat is not rickety!” Max protested with an impish grin, “I’ll have you know that my dad has this boat checked for damages annually!” Liz sang out his name between clenched teeth, curling her fingers in the universal sign of choking as if to say, “Tell me or that’s it, buddy.” Max released an inward sigh. “Alex wanted some time alone with Izzy,” he admitted.
Liz slapped her thigh loudly. “I just knew this was a set up,” she said, wagging her index finger at him, “There were too many secret looks going back and forth between you and Alex.”
“It’s not completely a set-up,” Max countered, grabbing hold of her hand so that he could pull her into his lap, “I had some plans of my own.” The boat rocked precariously as he did and Liz couldn’t help but release a shriek of terror. “Relax,” he soothed as she settled down over him, “We’re not gonna tip over.”
Her body only losing some of its rigidity Liz positioned herself in a full straddle over Max’s lap, bringing up her knees so that they rested near his armpits. They shifted a little more in order to adjust their positions more comfortably, so that Liz could fold her knees beneath her body. Their movements caused the boat to bobble on the water before they finally found a position they could live with. Once they were settled Liz crumpled against Max’s chest with a shuddering sigh of relief. He smiled over her dramatic reaction and pressed a kiss to her temple. “See?” he laughed, “I told you we wouldn’t tip over.”
“Maybe we should move as little as possible,” Liz suggested in uncertainty, obviously not the least bit reassured by the fact they hadn’t capsized. She braced her small hands against the sides of the boat as if that minute action would help to keep the boat upright. As Max watched her he noted how her skin had suddenly taken on a pale green cast.
“I see not much has changed since we were kids,” he observed dryly.
“What?” Liz croaked in disinterest. At present she was trying very hard not to throw up or pass out. Both scenarios seemed very likely at the moment.
“You still get seasick,” Max accused flatly, “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”
“I thought I was fine. You paddled all this way and I didn’t feel a thing,” Liz protested weakly, “But all the boat rocking made me feel nauseous and dizzy.”
“We should go back,” Max whispered, much of the admonishment in his tone replaced with gentle concern.
“No,” Liz moaned, “We need to stay here and give Alex and Isabel more time. Izzy needs this but…but she’s just too scared to admit it.”
“We shouldn’t interfere, Liz,” Max warned her gently, cradling her face between his hands, “Iz needs to decide for herself if this is what she wants.”
“I’m not influencing her decision, Max,” Liz replied, “I’m just giving her the time she needs to make up her mind.” Her gaze became probing as she tacked on, “After what our parents did to us I would never interfere in someone else’s life that way, Max. You do know that, right?”
“Yes, I know it,” Max whispered tenderly, “I guess I just needed to be sure.” They rested their foreheads against one another, the only sound passing between them consisting of their breathing and the water lapping against the sides of the boat. Liz clenched her fingers into Max’s bare shoulders as another wave of dizzy spilled over her. “We can’t stay out here,” he said, noting the subtle change in her body, “You’re sick, Liz.”
“Distract me,” Liz suggested wildly, “Just take my mind off this boat’s awful rocking and I’ll be fine.”
“Somehow I don’t think it works that way, Liz,” Max argued sardonically.
“Please, Max,” Liz pleaded in a weak whisper, “I don’t want to go back just yet…not yet, okay?” Max reluctantly agreed despite his better judgment. “Thank you,” Liz replied sincerely, which only produced a round of disjointed grumbling from Max. “I love you,” she added for emphasis. More grumbling. “Max, come on,” Liz coaxed in a whine.
“You’re sick, Liz,” he emphasized again, a little impatiently this time, “What do you want me to do?”
“Hold me, Max,” Liz murmured, “Kiss me.”
Max expelled a long, serrated sigh and did as she asked. The kiss, which began with much reluctance on Max’s part, slowly became something more intimate as Liz opened her mouth over his and fed him her tongue. By the time Liz came up for air she had forgotten, for the moment, that she had felt ill at all. Obviously, so had Max. He tunneled his fingers through her hair, his eyes darting over her features as if seeing her for the first time in his life. “God, you’re so damned beautiful,” he whispered reverently.
“So are you,” Liz returned, her own fingers on a hungry exploration of their own. She touched his hair, his face, his bare shoulders. Wherever she could caress, touch, taste…she did. She murmured his name into his throat, moaning a little as she felt his hands curve up her back to pull the thin, spandex straps of her bathing suit from her shoulders.
“Tell me if you need to stop,” Max urged as he pushed the clinging material down completely around her waist, baring her sun kissed breasts to his hot eyes. He pressed his open mouth against her neck, his lips meandering a moist path down her chest. “Is this okay,” he asked even as he began licking her exposed skin hungrily.
Liz couldn’t even answer. His lips and tongue were making her lightheaded. “Max…Max,” she moaned, her body going absolutely boneless when he latched onto one aching nipple. She arched her back, pushing herself deeper into the warm vortex of his mouth. “Oh…oh…oh,” Liz gasped as he began to suck, “Oh…Max…oh god….”
“You taste so sweet,” Max murmured against her skin, his desire fanned by her guttural moans of ecstasy. He opened his mouth wider over her nipple, bathing the turgid peak with his tongue before showering the other breast with the same diligent attention. He snaked his tongue between the valley of her breasts where he nuzzled her, breathing in her scent like a starving man. She tasted like sunshine and salt and sex. Needing to be closer, Max leaned back slightly, taking Liz with him. Their shift caused the boat to bob gently once more but neither of them noticed the movement.
Liz braced herself above Max’s body, her hair falling around them like an inky curtain. She allowed him to feast on her breasts with his eyes and hands and mouth while she rocked her lower body against his hardening cock. His hands raced up and down her back with fiery urgency before he hooked his fingers into her bikini bottoms and began tugging them down her hips. Liz reared back in surprise, her eyes wide and wild when she realized that he wanted to make love right there in the boat, not merely make-out as she’d first assumed.
“Take them off,” Max ordered gruffly, his eyes dark and hooded as he regarded her. She quickly did as he commanded, averting her eyes as he shimmied free of his own swim trunks. Once they were both naked Liz scrambled back into Max lap and their mouths crashed together in a sizzling kiss. Max didn’t bother with preliminaries. He reached down between their straining bodies and used the tip of his arousal to probe for Liz’s wet center. They both released coinciding moans of pleasure when Max finally pushed his way inside.
Their movements were constricted due to the confines of the boat, but fluid and passionate nonetheless. Liz pressed Max’s thighs hard between her own as he began to rock inside her. She met each of his thrusts by grinding down against him, surging downward each time he surged forward. The boat began to sway precariously with the gaining momentum of their lovemaking.
The boat’s swinging hardly bothered Liz however. She had her eyes closed, refusing to focus on anything beyond the profound connection of their bodies, the sensation of Max’s filling her up again and again. She tightened her slick, vaginal muscles around him, wanting to draw his hardened length even deeper.
But for Max it was too much. Already sheathed in the tight, creamy cavity of her body, having slick walls contract around his cock shattered the remains of his tenuous self-control. He became frenzied with the need to finish it, to reach the goal and to take her with him. He drove into her hard, deep, fast, over and over, his hips bucking in no discernible rhythm, his body driven by pure need. “Oh shit…oh…oh fuck…oh…oh my god…oh my god…oh god…fuck…fuck!” he chanted mindlessly as he strained and grasped for the finish that was just beyond his reach.
Liz’s entire body jerked with pleasured pain as Max lifted his hips high and hard, burying himself deeper than ever before when he felt the cascading rush of her climax bathe his cock. The feeling was more than enough to prompt Max’s own tumultuous orgasm. Their cries of mutual sensation were long and loud, bouncing off the surface of the water before reverberating into the air and dissipating into the treetops.
Her head was thrown back, her features still contorted in a grimace that was part bliss, part ache when Max opened his eyes again. “God, did I hurt you?” he whispered in uncertainty, the satiated desire he’d felt moments earlier instantly replaced with regret. She wasn’t in pain, but Liz didn’t get the opportunity to tell him that. His sweet question full of boyish concern suddenly sparked a plethora of memories that had been heretofore hidden in Liz’s mind:
“Does it hurt? Do you want me to stop?”
“Go deeper, Max… Please…”
“Max…Max…please…please…don’t stop…don’t ever….”
“Perfect. You feel so perfect. Mine…my Lizzie…my girl.”
“Come for me, baby… Come…come…”
The entire night did not come back to her, but for Liz what she did remember was more than enough. That one moment, that one brilliant moment when Max joined his body with hers…when he made them one had suddenly become crystallized in Liz’s head. She could remember with vibrant clarity how wonderful he had smelled that night, an intoxicating combination of whiskey, his cologne and her body spray. She could remember how astonishing it felt to have him so deep inside her, painful, but breathtaking, too. She could remember that very moment when he took her over the edge and joined her there and how he had whispered her name over and over.
She could remember the feeling of finally being complete, whole…for the first time in their marriage, even their entire relationship. It was perhaps the first time she had ever seen all of Max, not just physically, but really had seen his soul…just as he had seen hers in return. That night the liquor had stripped away all not only their inhibitions, but their public facades, those hidden feelings they hadn’t even admitted to themselves, much less each other. There had been nothing left but naked, soul-destroying truth.
Max had loved her then. He hadn’t been able to hide it. It had been plain in his eyes that night they had made love. Liz had seen it. She had felt it and she had forgotten. Had she remembered that night, had she remembered that look of absolute rapture in his eyes what would she have done differently? She doubted she would have left his bed so quickly afterwards if at all. Perhaps she would always wonder…
The memory was so overwhelming for Liz, so sudden that she actually began to cry. All the “what if” possibilities just seemed like too much to contemplate. Helpless to the emotion streaking through her right then, Liz wrapped her arms around Max’s neck and wept brokenly into his shoulder.
“Liz, Liz, what’s wrong, baby?” Max asked urgently, his words hoarse with tears of worry, “Did I hurt you, Liz? Did I hurt the baby? Please talk to me…”
“You…you…l-love…m-me…” Liz hiccupped against his shoulder.
Once he realized that her tears weren’t the result of some pain he might have caused Max felt some of the tension ease from his body. He framed her face with his hands, gently bringing her tearful gaze to his. “Of course I love you,” he half laughed, half cried, “Isn’t that the point?”
“But for a long time,” Liz sniffled, “Not just since you were shot, right?”
“Yeah…I’ve loved you for a while,” Max confessed softly, wholly unsure of where their conversation was going, “I think I did probably even before we got married but I didn’t want to admit it to myself.”
“Would things have been different if I had told you how I felt about you way back then?” Liz wondered quietly.
“I don’t know…maybe. Maybe not,” Max answered, “We can’t go back in time and change things. And besides…it doesn’t matter anymore. We’re together now…we’ll always be together.”
“I still wish I had done things differently,” Liz whispered regretfully.
“Why?” Max charged, “Everything that happened between us brought us to this moment, right? We’re better people for the experience…I know I am. I know I can give you the love you deserve now and I’m grateful for that. I’m grateful for you…in a way that I probably wouldn’t have been before. I love you, Liz…not like a boy loves a girl, but how a man loves a woman. Do you understand?”
“I think so,” she murmured, her eyes stinging anew at the combination of his gentle words and fervent expression.
“Good,” Max said solemnly, “Because I never want you to doubt my love for you. I want you to taste it, touch it…feel it everyday for the rest of our lives. You’re the only one I want, Liz. You always have been and you always will be. I could never be with anyone else.”
“Are you sure about that?” Liz joked shakily, licking at the tears gathering at the corners of her mouth, “Cuz you’re gonna be stuck with me for awhile…probably forever. Because, after such an incredibly sweet speech, I’ll definitely never let you go again.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Max whispered, leaning forward to brush her lips in a tender kiss, “For the rest of your life...”
-
Deejonaise
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2002 12:48 am
- Location: On my rusty dusty...
Epilogue
Max cradled his sleeping six-month-old daughter in his arms, crooning softly into the baby’s dark curly hair as he danced her in gentle circles about the living room. She’d fallen asleep long ago still Max felt compelled to continue on in his lullaby simply because he was loathe to lay her down again. The baby seemed content with that option, snuggling close into her father’s chest and snuffling softly.
Life had served him a mountain of surprises in the last year. Some of those changes had sent him over the moon with joy, while others he was still sorting out. Isabel and Alex becoming a couple…that was a good thing. They were both even discussing college choices in Florida, which just made a good thing even better. Liz preparing to attend college in the Fall herself…equally good thing. His parents becoming a full time fixture in his life once again via his daughter and girlfriend…ah, the jury was still out on that one.
The biggest change, however, had definitely been the much-anticipated birth of his daughter. Noelle Alexandra Evans had been born on Christmas Day just as her father predicted, at 5:23 a.m. Liz had spent a total of nineteen hours in labor. One of the most excruciating times of her life…and Max’s. At one point during the delivery he’d actually had to turn away and cry because he couldn’t stand Liz being in so much pain while he stood aside helpless. But in the end, all the pain, cursing and crying was forgotten. Max had taken one look at the red, squalling infant and had fallen in love with her on sight. She had shared co-ownership of his heart with her mother ever since.
He and Liz had fallen into a comfortable family routine despite the hectic pace of their schedules. Somehow they managed to set aside time for one another even with the heavy responsibilities of parenthood, school, work, and simple day-to-day living. Fortunately, they had a reliable friend and eager babysitter in Maria, who was more than happy to give the exhausted couple a break when they needed alone time.
And, of course, Noelle’s grandparents were more than happy to lend their support as well. Liz’s mom had actually come to stay with them the week Noelle was born. His mother had joined Nancy during the last three days of her visit. To say the least, their tiny two-bedroom apartment had been hectic. And between his mother trying to “mother” him and Mrs. Parker giving him advice on how he should care for his daughter Max had felt more than a little frustrated during their visit. He and Liz had actually fought over it, an argument that ended quickly when Max realized just how important it was to Liz to have their mothers supporting her. For her sake, Max held his tongue.
For the most part Max, on the one hand, continued to be very neutral in his feelings toward the Parkers and his parents as well while Liz, on the other hand, seemed to welcome them back into her life with open arms. She seemed to view Noelle’s birth as a bridge between their families and since that time her relationships with both sets of parents had flourished.
Max, however, tended to be a bit more reserved in his own feelings. Though he made no efforts to stifle the growing relationship between his daughter and both sets of her grandparents, Max continued to keep his distance for himself. He was slowly working his way back to a functional relationship with them all, even Michael, but it was very important that Max do so at his own pace. And while he still hadn’t reached the point where he could have an easy relationship with either set of parents he was grateful that, at least, his daughter would.
So lost was he in his private thoughts that Max didn’t immediately hear Liz creep up behind him until she had already slipped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his naked back. “Why didn’t you wake me?” she whispered, “I missed you beside me.”
Max used his free arm to bring her around to his side so that he could give her a long, thorough kiss. “You’ve been so exhausted the last few days with Noe teething and all…I wanted you to get some rest.”
“Hmm…and what about you,” Liz argued, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s curly head, “You only just got home from work two hours ago. You must be asleep on your feet. Here let me take her,” she offered, carefully lifting the baby from his arms. Liz cooed softly to her daughter, brushing away the soft sweaty tufts of hair that clung to her forehead. “I’ll put her down and be back in a minute,” she told Max a few seconds later.
When Liz returned to the living room a few minutes later Max was sprawled out across the sofa, one arm thrown across his forehead while he was apparently lost in thought. Liz climbed up over his body so that she could lie flush against him. She smiled to herself when Max’s arms automatically banded around her, opening his legs so that she could slip between them. Resting her chin upon her folded arms, Liz studied him with hooded, speculative eyes. “Whatcha thinking about?” she wondered softly.
Max favored her with a faint smile, absently twirling tendrils of her silky hair about his index finger. “You and me.”
“What about you and me?” Liz asked lightly, drawing small, enticing circles in his naked chest. She dipped her head to nip and nibble at his corrugated side.
“Only how happy we are together and how much I love you and how I want to be with you always and make dozens of babies with you…”
Liz had to smile over that one, her eyes crinkling at the corners with just the thought. “Dozens?” she chuckled, “Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive?”
“Well, Noe needs playmates, doesn’t she?” Max charged with an impish smile, “Besides I kinda want our future children to be born in wedlock.”
Liz glanced at him sharply, the hairs at the back of her neck prickling with his words. “Wedlock?” she echoed carefully, “Wait…what are you saying?”
“That I want you to be my wife,” Max answered casually.
Liz froze in dumbfounded shock, pushing herself up from his chest and scooting to the far end of the sofa. Her reaction couldn’t have been more flabbergasted than if he’d suddenly jumped from the sofa and begun clucking like a chicken. After over a year of living together Liz had assumed that Max had given up the idea for marriage entirely. “Are you serious?”
“What? Do I need to make it official,” Max teased softly, “Okay, then.” He slid down to the floor, dropping to one knee. And then, seemingly from nowhere, he produced a small velvet box and presented it to Liz on the palm of his hand. “Claudia Elizabeth Parker…love of my life…mother of my child,” he began solemnly, “will you marry me…again?”
Liz clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, Max,” she uttered because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“I’ve been trying to wait for the right moment to ask you for an entire week now,” Max explained, “But it seems like something is always coming up with the baby or with work so I just decided to take the plunge tonight while you put Noe down. I mean, why wait any longer? We love each other, right? It seems like the next natural step.”
Liz nibbled at her lip in uncertain joy. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she prodded, “I mean things have been going so well between us and…” She trailed off into silence.
A year ago her hesitant response might have sent Max to the conclusion that she didn’t want to marry him at all. But by now he had learned to look beneath what Liz presented on the surface. He saw past her hesitancy straight to her fear. Max understood that Liz’s cautious attitude sprang, not from lack of desire, but apprehension that this marriage might turn out like their last. Max smiled at her in gentle reassurance. “Liz, this time will be different because we are different,” he promised sweetly, acknowledging her unspoken fear, “Say yes and I swear I’ll make you happy for the rest of our lives.” He flipped back the lid to the velvet box, revealing the gleaming diamond ring inside.
Liz gasped aloud when she saw it, the ring he had given her over a year before back when they were still married. She could remember distinctly throwing it to the ground and thinking with an aching heart that she would never see it again. Tears of incredulous joy began streaming down her cheeks. “Oh my god,” she whispered again as she plucked the ring from its bed of velvet with a shaking hand, “I thought you got rid of this a long time ago.”
“Not a chance,” Max laughed in return, his own eyes beginning to burn with tears, “I always planned on giving it back to you someday.” He fought back a wave of nervousness as Liz continued to stare at the ring and cry. “So are you going to give me an answer or what, woman?” he demanded shakily, “Will you marry me or not? I’m dying here, baby. What do you say?”
Liz lifted eyes gleaming with love to his hopeful gaze, her heart blooming forth with a joy that surpassed anything she’d ever felt in her life, save for Noe’s birth, and smiled.
“I say yes.”
Max cradled his sleeping six-month-old daughter in his arms, crooning softly into the baby’s dark curly hair as he danced her in gentle circles about the living room. She’d fallen asleep long ago still Max felt compelled to continue on in his lullaby simply because he was loathe to lay her down again. The baby seemed content with that option, snuggling close into her father’s chest and snuffling softly.
Life had served him a mountain of surprises in the last year. Some of those changes had sent him over the moon with joy, while others he was still sorting out. Isabel and Alex becoming a couple…that was a good thing. They were both even discussing college choices in Florida, which just made a good thing even better. Liz preparing to attend college in the Fall herself…equally good thing. His parents becoming a full time fixture in his life once again via his daughter and girlfriend…ah, the jury was still out on that one.
The biggest change, however, had definitely been the much-anticipated birth of his daughter. Noelle Alexandra Evans had been born on Christmas Day just as her father predicted, at 5:23 a.m. Liz had spent a total of nineteen hours in labor. One of the most excruciating times of her life…and Max’s. At one point during the delivery he’d actually had to turn away and cry because he couldn’t stand Liz being in so much pain while he stood aside helpless. But in the end, all the pain, cursing and crying was forgotten. Max had taken one look at the red, squalling infant and had fallen in love with her on sight. She had shared co-ownership of his heart with her mother ever since.
He and Liz had fallen into a comfortable family routine despite the hectic pace of their schedules. Somehow they managed to set aside time for one another even with the heavy responsibilities of parenthood, school, work, and simple day-to-day living. Fortunately, they had a reliable friend and eager babysitter in Maria, who was more than happy to give the exhausted couple a break when they needed alone time.
And, of course, Noelle’s grandparents were more than happy to lend their support as well. Liz’s mom had actually come to stay with them the week Noelle was born. His mother had joined Nancy during the last three days of her visit. To say the least, their tiny two-bedroom apartment had been hectic. And between his mother trying to “mother” him and Mrs. Parker giving him advice on how he should care for his daughter Max had felt more than a little frustrated during their visit. He and Liz had actually fought over it, an argument that ended quickly when Max realized just how important it was to Liz to have their mothers supporting her. For her sake, Max held his tongue.
For the most part Max, on the one hand, continued to be very neutral in his feelings toward the Parkers and his parents as well while Liz, on the other hand, seemed to welcome them back into her life with open arms. She seemed to view Noelle’s birth as a bridge between their families and since that time her relationships with both sets of parents had flourished.
Max, however, tended to be a bit more reserved in his own feelings. Though he made no efforts to stifle the growing relationship between his daughter and both sets of her grandparents, Max continued to keep his distance for himself. He was slowly working his way back to a functional relationship with them all, even Michael, but it was very important that Max do so at his own pace. And while he still hadn’t reached the point where he could have an easy relationship with either set of parents he was grateful that, at least, his daughter would.
So lost was he in his private thoughts that Max didn’t immediately hear Liz creep up behind him until she had already slipped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his naked back. “Why didn’t you wake me?” she whispered, “I missed you beside me.”
Max used his free arm to bring her around to his side so that he could give her a long, thorough kiss. “You’ve been so exhausted the last few days with Noe teething and all…I wanted you to get some rest.”
“Hmm…and what about you,” Liz argued, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s curly head, “You only just got home from work two hours ago. You must be asleep on your feet. Here let me take her,” she offered, carefully lifting the baby from his arms. Liz cooed softly to her daughter, brushing away the soft sweaty tufts of hair that clung to her forehead. “I’ll put her down and be back in a minute,” she told Max a few seconds later.
When Liz returned to the living room a few minutes later Max was sprawled out across the sofa, one arm thrown across his forehead while he was apparently lost in thought. Liz climbed up over his body so that she could lie flush against him. She smiled to herself when Max’s arms automatically banded around her, opening his legs so that she could slip between them. Resting her chin upon her folded arms, Liz studied him with hooded, speculative eyes. “Whatcha thinking about?” she wondered softly.
Max favored her with a faint smile, absently twirling tendrils of her silky hair about his index finger. “You and me.”
“What about you and me?” Liz asked lightly, drawing small, enticing circles in his naked chest. She dipped her head to nip and nibble at his corrugated side.
“Only how happy we are together and how much I love you and how I want to be with you always and make dozens of babies with you…”
Liz had to smile over that one, her eyes crinkling at the corners with just the thought. “Dozens?” she chuckled, “Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive?”
“Well, Noe needs playmates, doesn’t she?” Max charged with an impish smile, “Besides I kinda want our future children to be born in wedlock.”
Liz glanced at him sharply, the hairs at the back of her neck prickling with his words. “Wedlock?” she echoed carefully, “Wait…what are you saying?”
“That I want you to be my wife,” Max answered casually.
Liz froze in dumbfounded shock, pushing herself up from his chest and scooting to the far end of the sofa. Her reaction couldn’t have been more flabbergasted than if he’d suddenly jumped from the sofa and begun clucking like a chicken. After over a year of living together Liz had assumed that Max had given up the idea for marriage entirely. “Are you serious?”
“What? Do I need to make it official,” Max teased softly, “Okay, then.” He slid down to the floor, dropping to one knee. And then, seemingly from nowhere, he produced a small velvet box and presented it to Liz on the palm of his hand. “Claudia Elizabeth Parker…love of my life…mother of my child,” he began solemnly, “will you marry me…again?”
Liz clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, Max,” she uttered because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“I’ve been trying to wait for the right moment to ask you for an entire week now,” Max explained, “But it seems like something is always coming up with the baby or with work so I just decided to take the plunge tonight while you put Noe down. I mean, why wait any longer? We love each other, right? It seems like the next natural step.”
Liz nibbled at her lip in uncertain joy. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she prodded, “I mean things have been going so well between us and…” She trailed off into silence.
A year ago her hesitant response might have sent Max to the conclusion that she didn’t want to marry him at all. But by now he had learned to look beneath what Liz presented on the surface. He saw past her hesitancy straight to her fear. Max understood that Liz’s cautious attitude sprang, not from lack of desire, but apprehension that this marriage might turn out like their last. Max smiled at her in gentle reassurance. “Liz, this time will be different because we are different,” he promised sweetly, acknowledging her unspoken fear, “Say yes and I swear I’ll make you happy for the rest of our lives.” He flipped back the lid to the velvet box, revealing the gleaming diamond ring inside.
Liz gasped aloud when she saw it, the ring he had given her over a year before back when they were still married. She could remember distinctly throwing it to the ground and thinking with an aching heart that she would never see it again. Tears of incredulous joy began streaming down her cheeks. “Oh my god,” she whispered again as she plucked the ring from its bed of velvet with a shaking hand, “I thought you got rid of this a long time ago.”
“Not a chance,” Max laughed in return, his own eyes beginning to burn with tears, “I always planned on giving it back to you someday.” He fought back a wave of nervousness as Liz continued to stare at the ring and cry. “So are you going to give me an answer or what, woman?” he demanded shakily, “Will you marry me or not? I’m dying here, baby. What do you say?”
Liz lifted eyes gleaming with love to his hopeful gaze, her heart blooming forth with a joy that surpassed anything she’d ever felt in her life, save for Noe’s birth, and smiled.
“I say yes.”