Chapter Forty-Nine
“Are you absolutely sure this is how you want to leave things with the family?” Michael asked as he watched his sister pack up the remainder of her belongings into the trunk of her Lexus sedan.
Liz shot him an irritated glance and lifted the last of her boxes into the trunk of her car. “I can’t believe you of all people just asked me that,” she ground out tightly. She shut the trunk door with a reverberating click.
“We all agreed to back off,” Michael argued plaintively, “I don’t understand why you just can’t stay here in Roswell.”
“Florida is my home now,” Liz replied shortly, “Besides the more distance I put between us the clearer I’ll be able to think.”
“Is Max gonna help you think clearer?”
Her lips thinned into a jagged line of bitterness. Liz had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes altogether. Michael seemed ridiculously jealous. Of what? How dare he even attempt to take the high road? Max had not betrayed her or lied to her all in the name of looking out for her best interests. He’d never been anything other than himself, always striving to do the right thing, always looking out for the interests of others rather than his own. Or…at least, he had been. She had no idea what was going on behind Max’s eyes now. Liz was only certain that he had no expectations for her. He would simply let her be and Liz desperately needed that kind of freedom. She’d strangle slowly if she remained in Roswell and she suspected that Michael knew it despite his earnest protestations for her to stay.
Deciding only at the last possible moment to check her temper Liz released a ragged sigh of mounting impatience. “My leaving has nothing to do with Max, Michael,” she replied heavily, “I think you know that.”
“You’re taking him with you,” Michael tossed back in soft accusation. He didn’t want the reality to gall him but it did. Max Evans had broken his sister’s heart, perhaps not intentionally, but he had dashed it to pieces nonetheless and yet Liz’s forgiveness was Max’s bounty. However, when it came to her own family Liz had no mercy to be spared. On the one hand, Michael could understand her reasoning, but on the other hand he was still irritated as hell. “Why does he get to be forgiven and we don’t?” he whined.
“Maybe because Max didn’t deliberately rip my heart out and then hid behind the flimsy excuse that he was doing it because he loved me,” Liz bit out acridly, “Are you going to accept my decision or are you going to insist on giving me a hard time, Michael?”
Michael held out his hands in supplication but his pleading stance did nothing to soften her expression or her heart. He dropped his arms back at his sides with a dejected sigh. “I just wish you could forgive me,” he mumbled sadly.
“But I can’t…not now anyway. It’s still too fresh.”
“I thought you would say that.” He waited though, silently hoping that she would change her mind. His brown eyes sharpened with wordless entreaty. Liz had to turn away from his beseeching gaze. Michael sighed. “I’ll just…leave you to it then,” he muttered, shuffling back towards the house. At the last moment he turned back to her, his heart in his eyes. “Just so you know…Dad and Mr. Evans are suing Mr. Harding for those lies he printed in the paper about Max yesterday. You see? They’re trying to make amends…to both of you.” He blew out a dejected sigh. “Maybe you can find it in yourself to forgive us someday,” he muttered in conclusion before disappearing through the front door. Liz stared after him mournfully, biting down on her tongue to keep from calling him back.
When he disappeared into the house she slumped against the trunk of the car, emotionally exhausted. This was so much harder than she’d imagined. Why had she thought she could simply waltz back into her parents’ house, pack her things and waltz back out as if nothing mattered? But the truth was inescapable: it hurt. She was like any other teenager, even after the highhanded tactics and deliberate cruelty; Liz Parker simply wanted her Mommy and Daddy. She was going through one of the most crucial periods in her life and the one person she could share it with was emotionally closed off from her.
That was the most difficult part of this entire mess, Liz supposed. Here she and Max were expecting this miraculous gift, a child together and there was a wall of tension between them at least a mile wide. She wished she had the courage to simply batter it down and reach the Max she knew was still inside. Once she’d had that type of courage. But now she was afraid. There were so few people in her life she felt she could trust and, perversely, Max was one of those few. Liz was deathly afraid of doing anything that might drive a further emotional wedge between them…but goodness keeping her distance from him was killing her spirit.
With a despondent sigh she shuffled around to the front of the car and slid into the driver’s seat. She looked at her childhood home one last time while debating whether or not she should go in and say a formal good-bye to her family. Liz was sure that they were more than aware she was leaving. Every so often she could see the living room curtains feather. But she had asked for space and they were, finally, respecting her wishes and giving it to her. Liz decided to leave things at that.
After she’d cranked the ignition Liz fished around in her purse for her cell phone and dialed Max’s hospital room. He answered on the first ring.
“Is this a good idea?” he asked anxiously. That was it. No hello, no flippant turn of phrase as greeting, just zinging straight to the heart of the matter. Definitely unlike the Max she remembered. He didn’t even tease her anymore.
“Max, I’m on my way,” Liz told him as she maneuvered the Lexus from the driveway, “Did Isabel bring your stuff?”
“I have everything,” Max replied, “But I’m still not sure this is a good idea.”
“I thought you wanted to move to Florida.”
“I do,” Max insisted.
“Then why the cold feet?”
“I don’t have a place to stay, remember.”
“I told you already,” Liz said with a long-suffering sigh, “I spoke to Maria and she’s cool with you crashing for a while.”
“I don’t want charity,” Max argued stiffly, “My recovery will take six weeks. I can’t just live off her for six weeks.”
“Then you’ll pay her back.” She checked the impulse for impatience and softened her tone to a compassionate whisper. “Everything will work out, Max.”
“Maybe I should just do this on my own,” he countered, shaking off her kind words, “I’ve got some money saved…I can get an apartment on my own.”
“Max, you’re still recovering from a gunshot wound,” Liz argued, “You can’t be by yourself. You don’t have to do this alone.”
“Why not?” he returned sullenly, “I do everything else that way.” And then he hung up the phone.
At the sound of the dial tone Liz expelled a tired sigh. She wanted to scream in frustration. His curt attitude was beginning to rub at her. Though she could understand the reason for it, he’d only nearly died three days earlier, seeing him so cynical and cut off hurt her heart. But Max’s withdrawal didn’t just fill her with pity, but anger as well. He hadn’t been the only one to suffer, so had she and he had caused a healthy part of it, but she wasn’t shutting him out of her heart.
Not even when she’d run had she shut him out of her heart. The entire time the yearning to be near him had been hidden in her soul. Her feelings had become downright chaotic while sitting with him while he recovered. When she thought about how close he’d come to dying… Liz had to fight back tears with just the recollection. She had decided then and there that she didn’t want the rift between them to continue. If Max had died while they were on the outs Liz would have never been able to live with herself. She had done a great deal of soul searching in those hours he’d spent sleeping.
Max had been through hell in her absence. Liz realized that each emotional blow he’d received had chinked away at the broken pieces of his heart, disillusioning him a little more everyday. But the finally straw had come with Tess’ attack and suicide. He had to think that there was no one in the world left who cared about him any longer. No wonder he clung so tenaciously to the idea of their child. He thought the baby was the one and only thing he had to hold onto. Liz had the next three thousand miles to convince him otherwise.
When she arrived at the hospital Max was waiting out on the sidewalk for her just as they’d discussed earlier. He looked…mad. No, livid was the better word. Beneath the pale cast of his skin his cheeks were the only two spots of color, his eyes fairly glittering. Liz coasted the car to a stop in front of him and hopped out. As Max slid gingerly into the passenger’s seat Liz grabbed up his two bags and stuffed them into the trunk. By the time she scooted back behind the steering wheel Max had already reclined his seat backwards and had his forearm thrown over his eyes.
“What is it?” she asked him as she pulled off into traffic.
“Philip just being Philip,” Max bit out cantankerously from beneath his arm.
“What did he do now?” Liz groaned. She wondered if he’d already heard about the lawsuit his father had instituted against Edward Harding, but Liz couldn’t imagine that would upset him.
“He paid my medical bill.”
Liz gaped at him in outward shock. “You’re upset because your dad paid your medical bill?”
Max tore his arm away from his eyes and stabbed Liz with a cold glare. “I never asked him to do it, alright!” he retorted sharply, “I don’t want anything from him…not even his charity.”
Liz supposed she could understand where he was coming from. She, too, had considered taking that same prideful stance with her own parents. But Liz had pondered the wisdom of such action. Would she be hurting her parents or just herself? She’d thought about it long and hard, especially in the face of Jeff Parker’s generous offer to pay her next year’s tuition for school and her medical bills as well. His argument had been that she was still his daughter and legally his ward and he wasn’t doing anything that wasn’t his responsibility anyway.
Really Liz had been reluctant to say no. Her school was specially designed with young mothers in mind. There was a twenty-four hour daycare available for the children while the mothers attended classes or worked. That convenience would come in handy when Liz set out for her own job. And she didn’t even want to think about the daunting prospect of handling all her medical bills on her own. She’d done the research. Having a baby cost a great deal of money without medical insurance. Liz realized she couldn’t very well provide her baby with a good home if she was struggling just to pay her hospital bills and so she accepted her father’s offer. For Liz it had stopped being a matter of pride and instead she thought about what would be best for her baby in the long run. However, Liz wisely drew the line there. She would care for the rest of life’s necessities on her own.
She slid Max another glance, careful to keep her look neutral. If he read pity in her eyes then it would be over completely. He’d end the conversation there. “Maybe your dad is just trying to make amends,” she suggested softly. Liz still carried the picture of that bedraggled Philip Evans from the hospital in her head. It was as if he’d become an old man overnight. To her knowledge, Max hadn’t even seen his father since before the shooting so then he had no idea just how hard his near death had hit his parents.
And, apparently, he didn’t care either. His features crumpled into an embittered scowl. “Who gives a fuck what he wants?”
“I think you do,” Liz countered softly. She was treading on dangerous ground and she knew it, but all Liz could think about was the fact miscommunication and lack of communication had gotten them into this mess in the first place. “Max, I know you’re feeling a lot of anger right now,” she went on gently, “I can empathize, but you’ve got to let yourself feel the love you have for your father as well as the hate. That’s the only way you’ll heal emotionally.”
“Don’t fucking tell me what I need to do,” he snapped out.
“I’m trying to help you.”
“Don’t fucking help me!”
“Why are you being such an asshole?” Liz snapped out impatiently, “I’m trying to be a friend and all you can do is return my kindness with sarcasm and anger.”
“Hey, who the fuck asked you for kindness or your damned friendship, Liz!” Max flung back, “As far as I’m concerned you can take it and this whole Florence Nightingale routine of yours and stick it where the sun don’t shine!” Liz was so stunned his vehemence that for a moment all she could do was sputter. There were a thousand scathing words on the tip of her tongue waiting to be tossed back, but she couldn’t do it. Instead tears of frustration and hurt and pain, tears she’d been holding at bay for days now, began to track down her cheeks. The moment Max saw her tears he felt like a bastard. He dragged both hands down over his face. “Aww…hell, Liz, don’t cry.”
“I know you blame me for what’s happened to you,” Liz wept.
Max released a ragged sigh. “Look, no…I don’t blame you,” he replied lamely, “Just pull over, okay. You shouldn’t be driving upset like this.” Liz jerked her head in a nod and obediently guided the car off onto the road shoulder. Once she’d put the car in park Max reached over and cut the ignition. “Okay, we’ve got to get a few things straight,” he said quietly, “First of all I don’t blame you for what’s happened with me, okay, not any of it. My relationship with my dad was already on the skids before this whole marriage deal went down. Number two; you’re right, I am an asshole…just…just stop trying to push me to talk about things I don’t want to and we’ll get along fine.”
“Max, that’s what got us into this mess to start with,” Liz argued softly. She whisked away her falling tears.
“What?”
“The not talking,” Liz enunciated, “That’s why our marriage didn’t survive…surely you can see that?”
“No,” Max countered with a derisive snort, “Our marriage didn’t survive because we were young and stupid and completely unprepared for that kind of responsibility.”
“Then how do you explain our friendship going to hell, too?”
Max leaned back in his seat with no answer to that charge. He closed his eyes, collecting his thoughts and his emotions before he spoke again. “Liz, there are certain things I don’t like to talk about,” he said calmly, “I don’t think that’s a crime.”
“Maybe not,” Liz conceded with a teary sniffle, “But it’s definitely the reason why you and I aren’t friends anymore.”
Max bit his lip to hide his acerbic smile. “I thought we stopped being friends because you thought I was a lying fuck who had gone back to my ex behind your back.”
“Things had already started downhill way before that point, Max,” Liz protested tiredly, “If there had been any level of trust between us I wouldn’t have jumped to the wrong conclusion so quickly. I would have, at the very least, given you the opportunity to explain.” A moment of palpable silence passed between them as Liz lifted brown eyes so full of hurt and regret to Max inscrutable gaze. “I just want to fix what went wrong, Max…for our baby’s sake, at least,” she whispered brokenly, “Just think about, please.”
When Love Isn't Enough (ML / Adult) (Complete)
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Deejonaise
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- Location: On my rusty dusty...
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Deejonaise
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2002 12:48 am
- Location: On my rusty dusty...
Chapter Fifty
“Max, it’s time for a break.” Liz nudged his shoulder gently, a little reluctant to wake him from his slumber. He had fallen asleep only an hour after their confrontation on the roadside but his nap had not been restful. He had tossed fitfully in his seat, whimpering and moaning while trapped in the throws of a hellish nightmare. Every so often he would mutter her name. Sometimes he would cry. To see him in such pain broke Liz’s heart, to know that she had caused a portion of that pain made her sick.
With just the slightest pressure from her fingers against his shoulder Max bolted upright with wide, staggered eyes. And then he gasped, the sudden movement having caused a dull ache in the center of his chest. He pressed his fingers to the source of the throb, wheezing slightly.
“Are you in pain?” Liz clucked tentatively, but she already knew he was. His lips were compressed in a thin, tight line of agony.
“It’ll pass,” Max grunted after some seconds had passed. He squinted through the windshield in an effort to take his mind off the twinge in his chest and the tears gathering in his eyes. It had begun to drizzle while he was asleep. Outside it was gloomy and overcast, the rain creating a light mist against the car. “Where are we?” he asked when it dawned on him the car was parked.
“I thought we could stop for some lunch,” Liz informed him cheerily. Yet, it was difficult to be cheery when she knew what horrendous pain Max was enduring, both physical and emotional. He refused to let her fill his pain prescription or even do so himself, refusing “to waste money” as he put it. Finally, after he’d fallen asleep, Liz had stopped briefly at a drug store to purchase some over the counter Ibuprofen for him. She didn’t know how much the pills would help, but dulled pain was better than plain pain any day…right?
She reached for the small, plastic bag and passed Max the box of pills. “What’s this,” Max asked in disinterest.
“I thought it would help with the pain,” Liz said quietly, “since you’re being so stubborn about the prescription.”
Max stared between her and the box with unreadable eyes. “Thanks,” he grunted. He’d already popped three of the tiny orange pills by the time they entered the restaurant. The ginger steps he took towards the entrance had not escaped Liz’s notice nor had his flashing grimaces of pain. It took all of her restraint not to help him into his chair, a gesture she knew he would find unwelcome. Instead she watched with an aching heart as he broke out into a cold sweat while attempting to seat himself. When he was done, Max was panting and his face was white with pain.
Liz waited until after the hostess had set their menus before them and then rattled off the daily special before finally voicing her concern. “Maybe we should go ahead and fill your prescription,” she suggested tentatively.
“Too much money,” Max grunted laconically.
“Max, you’re hurting,” Liz argued brokenly, tears of sympathy and compassion swimming in her eyes.
He looked away, unnerved to see her feelings for him made so apparent in her earnest gaze. “I’ll deal,” he mumbled haltingly.
“We left the hospital too soon,” she whispered in remorse.
“Don’t!” Max warned sharply, “I would have left that place with or without you, Liz.”
“I don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn!” she hissed right before their server approached to take their drink orders. By the time she was done and Liz looked at Max again his expression was even more remote than before. “I’m trying to help you, Max,” she insisted in weary exasperation.
“How has the pregnancy been going?” Max asked politely, effectively changing the subject, “Have you been having morning sickness, dizziness, weird cravings…you know, all the regular pregnancy stuff?”
Liz was frustrated by his unrepentant avoidance of her statement, but she was wise enough to realize that she would make no breakthroughs by pushing him either. Expelling a deep sigh of surrender, Liz mumbled, “No, I don’t get morning sickness or dizziness. I feel really great. As for cravings I’ve got this thing for sautéed mushrooms but that’s about it so far.”
“Mushrooms?” Max echoed blankly, his brows knit together in a dubious frown, “But you hate mushrooms. I remember Michael and I used to chase you around the playground with wild mushrooms and you’d scream bloody murder if one even touched you.” He smirked a little at the memory.
“Yeah, well there’s a vast difference between toadstools and sautéed mushrooms, Max,” Liz murmured with a ghost of a smile, but then she abruptly sobered, “But things change…kinda like the fact that we’re not friends anymore.”
The initial gleam of amusement in his gaze faded and was replaced with indifference. “You wanted to end our friendship,” he said flatly, “Remember?”
“I didn’t have all the facts then,” Liz argued furiously, “There was a ton of misunderstanding between us. Now that it has finally been straightened out I just don’t understand why we can’t go back to the way we were before.”
“We can never go back, Liz,” Max replied with a touch of regret.
Liz didn’t know how to respond to him. He sounded as if he’d given up all hope or desire for repairing their friendship. The moment Liz had learned the reasons behind Max’s actions that night a reconciliation between them had been second only to telling Max about the baby. She wasn’t rethinking the divorce, however. Liz still firmly believed that neither she nor Max had reached the maturity level needed to maintain a marriage. But while their marriage could not be salvaged Liz saw no reason to allow their friendship to fizzle away as well. Liz didn’t see a reason to but obviously Max was more than willing to let that happen. The realization hurt.
Shortly after his emotionless decree the waitress came for their food orders. Liz recited what she wanted past the salty ball of sorrow in her throat. She couldn’t even look at the server because she was so afraid the tears in her eyes would spill over right then. So she kept her eyes downcast, focused blindly on the wooden top of the table.
Max stared at her bent head. He knew she was crying, had heard the hoarse quality to her tone when she’d given their server her order. Max felt torn between guilt over having hurt her feelings and the resolve to keep his distance. On the one hand he wanted to give himself over to her tender keeping. Max had felt alone for so long…he missed the feeling of being safe and warm and loved. However, Max had also discovered, and in the most painful manner possible, that the feeling did not last. The risk of opening his heart again and being kicked emotionally for his trouble was too great. Max had reached his threshold for pain and loss…anything more and he was sure he’d go over the edge. And so he allowed an awkward silence to fall between them, stamping down his yearning to tell her all that was in his heart right then.
Yet, Max didn’t say a world. Instead he allowed an awkward silence to fall between them while they ate their meal. Every so often Max would feel Liz’s wounded gaze boring into the top of his skull and he mechanically chewed his food. However, when he would glance up to meet her eyes her gaze would skitter away. She wanted to talk and so did he, but unfortunately, neither one of them knew what they should say.
Max couldn’t give her what she wanted. Liz was looking for the person he’d once been, the one who had teased her and made her laugh. But there was no teasing left inside Max, no laughter either. True joy seemed elusive to him, unattainable… The only times when he could feel the fleeting pleasure was when he thought of his child. His child would love him unconditionally, would never leave him as others had and Max would never leave his baby. He promised himself that. No matter what fell between him and Liz ultimately he would always be a part of his child’s life.
Focusing only on that one driving motivation, Max decided to try and end the tension mounting between them. He threw his napkin down upon the table and appraised her with resignation. “Liz, this can’t be good for the baby.”
“What can’t be good?” Liz mumbled sullenly, never glancing up from her plate.
“This…this stuff between us,” he uttered vaguely, gesturing back and forth between himself and her, “I don’t want for you to be on the verge of tears every time you talk to me.”
“Then maybe you should stop shutting me out,” Liz suggested in soft admonishment.
“I’m not shutting you out,” Max protested. He dug the pads of his fingers into his eyes in a long-suffering gesture. “I…I’m just being cautious.”
“About me?” Liz bleated, a little stung.
“About everyone,” Max confessed in a sigh, “I want to keep my distance. It’s nothing personal…I just want to be left alone.” That statement caused tears to sparkle anew in her eyes and Max had to bite back a curse of frustration when he saw them. “Wait…that didn’t come out right,” he amended, “What I’m trying to say is…I know you want us to be friends and you want things to go back to the way they were before, but I can’t. I just can’t, Liz.”
“Do you hate me?” Liz uttered meekly, “Is that why you don’t want to be my friend anymore?”
Max flinched with the pain her question caused. “No…no,” he denied gently, “I don’t hate you.”
“Then why?” Liz sniffled.
She had her head bent so that he couldn’t clearly see her face but it was impossible to overlook the small puddles her tears were making against the tabletop. Max fought back the urge to reach across the distance and take her hand. Instead he kept his fists pressed in his lap, clenched so tightly that his fingernails were biting into the tender flesh of his palms. “Liz, I can’t be anyone’s friend right now,” he choked hoarsely, “I’m no good…can’t you see?”
“Max, that’s not true,” Liz protested.
“I’m no good for anyone,” he interjected hoarsely, “Even my own baby, probably.”
“Max, God--,” Liz wept thickly, “Did I really hurt you that much?”
Max couldn’t even look at her. “It’s not just you,” he sighed, “Everything…everything just fell apart after you left. I feel like I lost myself…”
“Max--,”
“…I just need to find my way again, Liz,” he continued on haltingly, “I need to be able to like myself again.”
A grating sob ripped from her chest as she dissolved into anguished tears. She hid her face in her hands, knowing she was making a spectacle of herself right there in the restaurant but helpless to staunch her tears. A moment later she felt Max’s arms band around her and Liz buried her face into his chest, just sobbing and sobbing and sobbing until she was empty.
Max stroked her hair, his fingers cascading over her scalp in a feathery touch. Even after her sobs had died down into harsh hiccups he continued to hold her close, his breath stirring warmly against her temple as he whispered gentle reassurances to her. Liz closed her eyes and breathed deep, reacquainting herself with the smell that was uniquely his. It felt so good to be held in his arms again, to feel his comforting warmth surround her. They had hugged billions of times before. Liz knew the feel of Max’s embrace all too well, but never had it meant so much before. At that second Liz couldn’t help herself. She looked up at him and told him the words pounding hard in her chest. “I love you, Max.”
His body went absolutely rigid. Liz felt his emotional withdrawal from her long before the physical one. First his expression closed off into unreadable stone once more and then he dropped his arms from around her. “Don’t,” he warned softly, “Don’t tell me that.” Neither of them seemed aware of the small audience they had drawn or their server hovering nervously in the background.
“Why? It’s true,” Liz insisted tearfully, “I love you, Max. I love you so much. I never stopped.”
He rolled his gaze heavenward. “I can’t talk about this now.”
“Why don’t you want to know how I feel about you?”
“Liz, don’t do this--,”
“I love you,” she said again in stubborn persistence, “I’ve loved you since I was a little girl and I love you now. Don’t you see you’re not alone…that I’ll always be here for you?”
“But I want to be alone,” Max cried unreasonably, stabbing her with golden eyes glazed with sorrow, “I don’t want you to love me! I don’t deserve it, okay!”
A gasping, little breath of pain tore form Liz’s chest with his anguished admission. Max didn’t think he deserved to be loved? No, he couldn’t possibly think that, Liz reasoned wildly. Yet as she stared into wounded eyes Liz could see that he did believe it. Liz didn’t realize until that moment just how deep Max’s pain ran and it was made worse because he shouldered all the blame for himself. He actually believed that he had done something to turn his parents away from him, to turn them all away from him. Max truly believed he was unlovable. Liz wanted to curl herself into a little ball of grief at the realization.
She reached out to finger his cheek, surprised and humbled when he didn’t jerk away. “I love you, Max,” she whispered again with convicted fervor, “I’ll love you til the day I die.” Liz watched his adam’s apple work spasmodically as he searched for a response to her bold honesty and found none forthcoming. Finally, he dropped his eyes and dug into the pocket of his jeans to pull free a wad of crumpled bills. He tossed the money on the table. “I’ll just wait for you out in the car,” he mumbled, scraping back his chair from the table. By the time Liz had reached out to snag a hold of him he was already well beyond her reach.
Liz watched him leave with stinging, mournful eyes.
“Max, it’s time for a break.” Liz nudged his shoulder gently, a little reluctant to wake him from his slumber. He had fallen asleep only an hour after their confrontation on the roadside but his nap had not been restful. He had tossed fitfully in his seat, whimpering and moaning while trapped in the throws of a hellish nightmare. Every so often he would mutter her name. Sometimes he would cry. To see him in such pain broke Liz’s heart, to know that she had caused a portion of that pain made her sick.
With just the slightest pressure from her fingers against his shoulder Max bolted upright with wide, staggered eyes. And then he gasped, the sudden movement having caused a dull ache in the center of his chest. He pressed his fingers to the source of the throb, wheezing slightly.
“Are you in pain?” Liz clucked tentatively, but she already knew he was. His lips were compressed in a thin, tight line of agony.
“It’ll pass,” Max grunted after some seconds had passed. He squinted through the windshield in an effort to take his mind off the twinge in his chest and the tears gathering in his eyes. It had begun to drizzle while he was asleep. Outside it was gloomy and overcast, the rain creating a light mist against the car. “Where are we?” he asked when it dawned on him the car was parked.
“I thought we could stop for some lunch,” Liz informed him cheerily. Yet, it was difficult to be cheery when she knew what horrendous pain Max was enduring, both physical and emotional. He refused to let her fill his pain prescription or even do so himself, refusing “to waste money” as he put it. Finally, after he’d fallen asleep, Liz had stopped briefly at a drug store to purchase some over the counter Ibuprofen for him. She didn’t know how much the pills would help, but dulled pain was better than plain pain any day…right?
She reached for the small, plastic bag and passed Max the box of pills. “What’s this,” Max asked in disinterest.
“I thought it would help with the pain,” Liz said quietly, “since you’re being so stubborn about the prescription.”
Max stared between her and the box with unreadable eyes. “Thanks,” he grunted. He’d already popped three of the tiny orange pills by the time they entered the restaurant. The ginger steps he took towards the entrance had not escaped Liz’s notice nor had his flashing grimaces of pain. It took all of her restraint not to help him into his chair, a gesture she knew he would find unwelcome. Instead she watched with an aching heart as he broke out into a cold sweat while attempting to seat himself. When he was done, Max was panting and his face was white with pain.
Liz waited until after the hostess had set their menus before them and then rattled off the daily special before finally voicing her concern. “Maybe we should go ahead and fill your prescription,” she suggested tentatively.
“Too much money,” Max grunted laconically.
“Max, you’re hurting,” Liz argued brokenly, tears of sympathy and compassion swimming in her eyes.
He looked away, unnerved to see her feelings for him made so apparent in her earnest gaze. “I’ll deal,” he mumbled haltingly.
“We left the hospital too soon,” she whispered in remorse.
“Don’t!” Max warned sharply, “I would have left that place with or without you, Liz.”
“I don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn!” she hissed right before their server approached to take their drink orders. By the time she was done and Liz looked at Max again his expression was even more remote than before. “I’m trying to help you, Max,” she insisted in weary exasperation.
“How has the pregnancy been going?” Max asked politely, effectively changing the subject, “Have you been having morning sickness, dizziness, weird cravings…you know, all the regular pregnancy stuff?”
Liz was frustrated by his unrepentant avoidance of her statement, but she was wise enough to realize that she would make no breakthroughs by pushing him either. Expelling a deep sigh of surrender, Liz mumbled, “No, I don’t get morning sickness or dizziness. I feel really great. As for cravings I’ve got this thing for sautéed mushrooms but that’s about it so far.”
“Mushrooms?” Max echoed blankly, his brows knit together in a dubious frown, “But you hate mushrooms. I remember Michael and I used to chase you around the playground with wild mushrooms and you’d scream bloody murder if one even touched you.” He smirked a little at the memory.
“Yeah, well there’s a vast difference between toadstools and sautéed mushrooms, Max,” Liz murmured with a ghost of a smile, but then she abruptly sobered, “But things change…kinda like the fact that we’re not friends anymore.”
The initial gleam of amusement in his gaze faded and was replaced with indifference. “You wanted to end our friendship,” he said flatly, “Remember?”
“I didn’t have all the facts then,” Liz argued furiously, “There was a ton of misunderstanding between us. Now that it has finally been straightened out I just don’t understand why we can’t go back to the way we were before.”
“We can never go back, Liz,” Max replied with a touch of regret.
Liz didn’t know how to respond to him. He sounded as if he’d given up all hope or desire for repairing their friendship. The moment Liz had learned the reasons behind Max’s actions that night a reconciliation between them had been second only to telling Max about the baby. She wasn’t rethinking the divorce, however. Liz still firmly believed that neither she nor Max had reached the maturity level needed to maintain a marriage. But while their marriage could not be salvaged Liz saw no reason to allow their friendship to fizzle away as well. Liz didn’t see a reason to but obviously Max was more than willing to let that happen. The realization hurt.
Shortly after his emotionless decree the waitress came for their food orders. Liz recited what she wanted past the salty ball of sorrow in her throat. She couldn’t even look at the server because she was so afraid the tears in her eyes would spill over right then. So she kept her eyes downcast, focused blindly on the wooden top of the table.
Max stared at her bent head. He knew she was crying, had heard the hoarse quality to her tone when she’d given their server her order. Max felt torn between guilt over having hurt her feelings and the resolve to keep his distance. On the one hand he wanted to give himself over to her tender keeping. Max had felt alone for so long…he missed the feeling of being safe and warm and loved. However, Max had also discovered, and in the most painful manner possible, that the feeling did not last. The risk of opening his heart again and being kicked emotionally for his trouble was too great. Max had reached his threshold for pain and loss…anything more and he was sure he’d go over the edge. And so he allowed an awkward silence to fall between them, stamping down his yearning to tell her all that was in his heart right then.
Yet, Max didn’t say a world. Instead he allowed an awkward silence to fall between them while they ate their meal. Every so often Max would feel Liz’s wounded gaze boring into the top of his skull and he mechanically chewed his food. However, when he would glance up to meet her eyes her gaze would skitter away. She wanted to talk and so did he, but unfortunately, neither one of them knew what they should say.
Max couldn’t give her what she wanted. Liz was looking for the person he’d once been, the one who had teased her and made her laugh. But there was no teasing left inside Max, no laughter either. True joy seemed elusive to him, unattainable… The only times when he could feel the fleeting pleasure was when he thought of his child. His child would love him unconditionally, would never leave him as others had and Max would never leave his baby. He promised himself that. No matter what fell between him and Liz ultimately he would always be a part of his child’s life.
Focusing only on that one driving motivation, Max decided to try and end the tension mounting between them. He threw his napkin down upon the table and appraised her with resignation. “Liz, this can’t be good for the baby.”
“What can’t be good?” Liz mumbled sullenly, never glancing up from her plate.
“This…this stuff between us,” he uttered vaguely, gesturing back and forth between himself and her, “I don’t want for you to be on the verge of tears every time you talk to me.”
“Then maybe you should stop shutting me out,” Liz suggested in soft admonishment.
“I’m not shutting you out,” Max protested. He dug the pads of his fingers into his eyes in a long-suffering gesture. “I…I’m just being cautious.”
“About me?” Liz bleated, a little stung.
“About everyone,” Max confessed in a sigh, “I want to keep my distance. It’s nothing personal…I just want to be left alone.” That statement caused tears to sparkle anew in her eyes and Max had to bite back a curse of frustration when he saw them. “Wait…that didn’t come out right,” he amended, “What I’m trying to say is…I know you want us to be friends and you want things to go back to the way they were before, but I can’t. I just can’t, Liz.”
“Do you hate me?” Liz uttered meekly, “Is that why you don’t want to be my friend anymore?”
Max flinched with the pain her question caused. “No…no,” he denied gently, “I don’t hate you.”
“Then why?” Liz sniffled.
She had her head bent so that he couldn’t clearly see her face but it was impossible to overlook the small puddles her tears were making against the tabletop. Max fought back the urge to reach across the distance and take her hand. Instead he kept his fists pressed in his lap, clenched so tightly that his fingernails were biting into the tender flesh of his palms. “Liz, I can’t be anyone’s friend right now,” he choked hoarsely, “I’m no good…can’t you see?”
“Max, that’s not true,” Liz protested.
“I’m no good for anyone,” he interjected hoarsely, “Even my own baby, probably.”
“Max, God--,” Liz wept thickly, “Did I really hurt you that much?”
Max couldn’t even look at her. “It’s not just you,” he sighed, “Everything…everything just fell apart after you left. I feel like I lost myself…”
“Max--,”
“…I just need to find my way again, Liz,” he continued on haltingly, “I need to be able to like myself again.”
A grating sob ripped from her chest as she dissolved into anguished tears. She hid her face in her hands, knowing she was making a spectacle of herself right there in the restaurant but helpless to staunch her tears. A moment later she felt Max’s arms band around her and Liz buried her face into his chest, just sobbing and sobbing and sobbing until she was empty.
Max stroked her hair, his fingers cascading over her scalp in a feathery touch. Even after her sobs had died down into harsh hiccups he continued to hold her close, his breath stirring warmly against her temple as he whispered gentle reassurances to her. Liz closed her eyes and breathed deep, reacquainting herself with the smell that was uniquely his. It felt so good to be held in his arms again, to feel his comforting warmth surround her. They had hugged billions of times before. Liz knew the feel of Max’s embrace all too well, but never had it meant so much before. At that second Liz couldn’t help herself. She looked up at him and told him the words pounding hard in her chest. “I love you, Max.”
His body went absolutely rigid. Liz felt his emotional withdrawal from her long before the physical one. First his expression closed off into unreadable stone once more and then he dropped his arms from around her. “Don’t,” he warned softly, “Don’t tell me that.” Neither of them seemed aware of the small audience they had drawn or their server hovering nervously in the background.
“Why? It’s true,” Liz insisted tearfully, “I love you, Max. I love you so much. I never stopped.”
He rolled his gaze heavenward. “I can’t talk about this now.”
“Why don’t you want to know how I feel about you?”
“Liz, don’t do this--,”
“I love you,” she said again in stubborn persistence, “I’ve loved you since I was a little girl and I love you now. Don’t you see you’re not alone…that I’ll always be here for you?”
“But I want to be alone,” Max cried unreasonably, stabbing her with golden eyes glazed with sorrow, “I don’t want you to love me! I don’t deserve it, okay!”
A gasping, little breath of pain tore form Liz’s chest with his anguished admission. Max didn’t think he deserved to be loved? No, he couldn’t possibly think that, Liz reasoned wildly. Yet as she stared into wounded eyes Liz could see that he did believe it. Liz didn’t realize until that moment just how deep Max’s pain ran and it was made worse because he shouldered all the blame for himself. He actually believed that he had done something to turn his parents away from him, to turn them all away from him. Max truly believed he was unlovable. Liz wanted to curl herself into a little ball of grief at the realization.
She reached out to finger his cheek, surprised and humbled when he didn’t jerk away. “I love you, Max,” she whispered again with convicted fervor, “I’ll love you til the day I die.” Liz watched his adam’s apple work spasmodically as he searched for a response to her bold honesty and found none forthcoming. Finally, he dropped his eyes and dug into the pocket of his jeans to pull free a wad of crumpled bills. He tossed the money on the table. “I’ll just wait for you out in the car,” he mumbled, scraping back his chair from the table. By the time Liz had reached out to snag a hold of him he was already well beyond her reach.
Liz watched him leave with stinging, mournful eyes.
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Deejonaise
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- Posts: 385
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Chapter Fifty-One
They stopped at a motel on the Texas/Louisiana border for the night. By the time they had Max was so exhausted and in so much physical pain that he could barely stand. He didn’t even put up a fight when Liz purchased only one room and with her own money, no less. However, he did cling to a measure of stubbornness when stumbling off towards their room. He repeatedly rejected Liz’s offers for help. But when they finally reached their destination and Max’s knees nearly buckled with fatigue Liz ignored his protests and moved to flank him, looping his arm about her neck for support.
“I’ve got it,” Max insisted weakly as she guided him over towards the nearest bed.
“Shut up,” Liz admonished gently. She helped him ease down, noting how his face was colorless with pain. “Do you need some more Ibuprofen,” she urged worriedly.
“They don’t really help,” Max gasped, “Besides, right now, I’m feeling more exhaustion than pain.” His head fell forward wearily. “I feel so damned weak,” he muttered.
“You just had major surgery three days ago,” Liz reminded him tenderly, “You shouldn’t be pushing yourself so hard.”
“I…I know,” he wheezed.
Liz knelt before him, ducking her head so that she could see his face. “What can I do?”
“Nothing,” Max mumbled, “I’m just gonna take a shower--,” He tried to move to his feet then but ended up swaying drunkenly. He fell into Liz’s waiting arms.
“Max, you can barely stand,” Liz scolded him, “Let me help you, okay.”
“I just want a bath,” he panted, “It’s been days… I wanna feel clean.”
“Okay, okay,” Liz consented, easing him back down against the mattress once more. “Wait here and I’ll run you a bath.” She left him lying on the bed and crossed over into the bathroom to draw a bath. There weren’t any fancy soaps or bath oils she could add and Liz regretted that. Max was seriously tense and the bath oils would do a world of good in relaxing him. Liz usually brought such toiletries with her when she traveled but bath soaps and lotions had been the last thing on her mind when she learned that Max was in the hospital. Liz had merely thrown an armful of clothing into a suitcase and hopped a plane. She contented herself with running a steamy bath for him instead and adding a capful of the trial sized baby oil she carried in her purse to the water.
When she was done she crept back out into the main room to find Max lying in the exact same position she’d left him, only his eyes were closed. Liz tiptoed over to his side and leaned over him. “Max?” she whispered tentatively.
Without ever opening his eyes Max commented drowsily, “I’m just resting my eyes.” There was a slight smile in his tone.
Liz felt hope bloom forth in her heart to hear that smile. “Are you sure you still want the bath,” Liz pressed, biting back her answering smile, “Would you rather sleep?”
His eyes fluttered open then, reminding her of glimmering liquid gold. “No, I still want the bath,” he whispered and then there was a long pause of silence before he added hesitantly, “Will you help me?”
Those four words filled Liz with an indescribable joy. It wasn’t so much that he was willing to allow her to help him but that he had asked for it. With a wordless smile Liz helped him ease up from the bed and limp off into the bathroom. However, once she had and he was collapsed onto the toilet seat Liz didn’t leave him then. Instead she fell to her knees and began gingerly removing his shoes and socks.
Max watched her with hooded eyes, his emotions riotous and plainly visible. “You don’t have to do this,” he murmured.
“I want to help you,” Liz said simply when she’d finished. Straightening, she grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and whipped it over his head in a deft, but gentle motion…and then she gasped. His surgical scar was beginning to heal, but it was still very raw in appearance and the flesh surrounding the wound was horribly bruised. Yet that wasn’t what made Liz gasp in horror. It was how dangerously close that scar was situated to his heart. Her eyes flooded with helpless tears.
Seeing her look, Max tried to reassure her softly, “It’s starting to heal, Liz.”
She didn’t answer immediately. At that second Liz didn’t think she could possibly form the words. Instead she lifted her hand, tracing her fingers carefully along the crest of the scar. “Oh, Max…” she uttered.
“There’s one on my back, too,” Max whispered thickly, “from where they had to stitch the exit wound. It’s not as big as this one. I…I know they’re ugly.” Her tears spilled over then. “Why are you crying?” he asked hoarsely.
“I don’t like to think of you in so much pain,” she answered gruffly. She cradled his face in her hands, bringing their foreheads together until they touched.
“You make it better,” Max confessed in a whisper, “I don’t want you to…I don’t want to need you, but I do…” He started to cry then, not the harsh, wracking sobs that she’d expected but quiet tears that tracked down his cheeks like a river. Liz sponged them away with the pads of her thumbs, raining small kisses all over his face, her tears mingling with his.
When her lips found his it was like pure instinct. The touch was brief, breathless and wrought with sweet appeal. For a moment they stayed that way, foreheads nuzzling, exchanging soft puffs of breath in the aftermath of that fleeting but emotional kiss. Still holding his face between her hands Liz crawled into his lap and cuddled close. “Are you tired of fighting me now,” she asked him gently.
“You fight too hard,” Max replied raggedly, “I didn’t stand a chance.” He brushed his lips across the underside of her jaw. “I’m so sorry for the way I’ve been acting, Liz.” He buried his face against her shoulder. “I’m really fucked up.”
“No, Max--,”
“I am,” he insisted, not allowing her to finish out the protest, “I just feel so dead inside but what’s strange is that I want to be, Liz. I want to be…it hurts less that way.”
“Do you want me to stay away?” Liz whispered, cradling him even closer. She held her breath in expectation of his answer because Liz wasn’t sure that she had the strength to uphold his desire if he did.
“Yes…no…” Max wavered, “I don’t know what the hell I want…”
Liz smiled into the soft hair at his temple. “Okay, lets start simple then,” she suggested quietly, “How about that bath?”
She felt him smile against her shoulder, his first genuine smile in days. Liz’s heart warmed in response. She was so jubilant with this newest development that she barely heard him when he whispered, “A bath is highly doable.”
Liz slid off his lap, smiling down at him through her tears. “Can you take off your pants or do you need help?”
Max glanced up at her sharply. “Are…are you staying?”
“Max, you can barely stand,” Liz argued.
“You can’t give me a bath,” Max protested weakly.
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“But you haven’t seen it for a long time,” Max persisted, “It feels too weird.”
“I’ll just help you into the tub then…how about that?” He still appeared hesitant, his eyes wide and unsure. “I won’t do anything to make you uncomfortable,” Liz rushed to add, “And I’ll leave as soon as you’re settled.” He looked pensive for a moment longer before finally bobbing his head in agreement. Liz turned her back obligingly so that he could remove his pants and underwear in some semblance of privacy. In the end, he had to hold onto her just to keep from losing his balance.
“I’m done,” he croaked finally.
Liz turned and hooked her arm around his waist, assisting him carefully into the bath water. She surveyed his body peripherally; unable to ignore his striking weight loss now that he wasn’t fully clothed. Beneath her fingers she could feel how frail and thin he’d become, his ribs jutting into her palm. She shivered, realizing that limited food hadn’t caused that kind of weight loss, but immense depression had.
Max released a staggered moan as he was enveloped into the water. “Is it too hot?” Liz burst out softly, immediately concerned.
“No…no,” Max groaned, hunching forward a little, “It feels good.”
She rubbed his back in small circles, her fingers occasionally cresting over his scar there. Without thinking about it, Liz leaned forward and kissed the raw, puckered flesh. Max moaned again. “Does it hurt,” she whispered. Her warm breath soaked into his skin with every word.
“It’s numb there,” Max panted, “I can’t really feel it… But I know you’re kissing me and--,”
“And what, Max?” Liz prodded, lifting her somber gaze to his.
Max self-consciously dropped his eyes. “That feels good, too.”
Sensing that the moment was growing slightly uncomfortable for him, Liz casually plucked the soap and washcloth from his fingers and offered to wash his back. Again Max appeared torn by indecision before he finally inclined his head in a nod. In that instant something unspoken, momentous changed between them.
With careful precision, Liz washed his back in gentle circles. She started with his shoulders, working her way across his blades and then moving lower to the small of his back. Liz hesitated for only a moment before descending lower down his back, the cloth sweeping the swell of his buttocks just beneath the water’s surface. Her breath was coming in hitching gasps by then, her body suddenly afire with the need to touch him further…more intimately.
Liz looked up into Max’s eyes again to find him watching her in the most penetrating way, his gaze sharp and wary, dark with arousal. She wet her lips in unconscious provocation. “Do…do you want me to wash your chest, too?” she asked in a stuttering whisper, flattening an appealing hand against his heart. Liz leaned forward to nuzzle the rim of his ear, delighting in the sound of his responsive groan.
“What are you doing?” Max gasped.
“You want me to stop?” she murmured into his ear. Before he could answer Liz began sweeping her hand down the expanse of his chest, her palm scraping across the beaded ridge of his nipple. Max moaned again, turning his face into her throat. He whimpered her name in a disjointed prayer. “I won’t hurt you,” Liz promised, taking her exploration a little lower with each breath.
Though they hadn’t even touched one another in a manner that was overtly sexual Liz felt as if she’d been worked into a passionate frenzy. She was almost desperate to touch him, to have him touch her, to lie beneath him and feel his body pulsating within. The desire was like molten lava boiling through her veins. She hadn’t consciously set out to seduce Max at all. Her intentions had truly been altruistic. However, now there was no denying the hunger unfurling in her belly for him. And now, now that she’d realized fully what she was doing to him Liz couldn’t find the strength to stop. She slipped her hand lower, plunging it below the water level to curl her fingers around his rising erection.
Max grabbed hold of her hand before she could complete her intention and brought her fingers to his lips with an anguished cry. He’d moved quickly but not quickly enough for Liz to miss the feel of his rigid, hot skin brushing against her fingertips. “Please,” he pleaded softly, his eyes closed in silent agony, “Please, don’t do this to me.”
“Max, I just want to touch you,” she whispered hoarsely, “I need to touch you.”
Shimmering dark lashes fluttered open to reveal equally shimmering dark eyes. “Will it stop at touching?” Max countered quietly.
Liz shrugged, slightly unnerved by his frank rebuttal. Despite her unease, however, she met his argument with stiff recalcitrance. “I want to make love to you,” she said, meeting his eyes directly when she did, “And you want the same thing…so why shouldn’t we? If it makes us both feel good…why shouldn’t we?”
“Liz, we can’t,” Max insisted. Liz tried to turn away from him but he grabbed tight hold of her arm. It was the surprising strength of his grip that kept Liz from yanking away immediately…and then his words began to penetrate her heart. “Listen to me…” he pressed on urgently, “I’m not rejecting you. Don’t you have any idea how much I want to be inside you right now?” Liz inhaled a jerking breath at his bold confession, which turned into an aroused groan when he continued, “I want that so much, Liz. I want to feel your warm, tight body all around me, stroking me, pulling me in so deep…God, so deep, deeper than I ever imagined... I want to lose myself in you, Liz and forget the last miserable month…but I can’t…”
“Why not?” Liz demanded brokenly.
“Could you be satisfied with just sex, Liz?” Max wondered boldly. She didn’t need to answer verbally. The fact that she looked away the moment he asked the question was answer enough. “Cuz all I can give you right now is my body. I’m not in a place where I can make a commitment and it’s not fair to you to take what you’re offering and give back nothing in return.”
Liz dropped a kiss to his naked shoulder. “Maybe just being with you is enough for me,” she murmured willfully.
“Liz, you know it’s not,” he protested, swallowing back his moan of want as Liz swept her tongue over his skin. It took all his willpower to push her away. “Please, just…just let me work on getting my head straight again and…and being a father to our kid, okay?”
She pressed her heated face into his shoulder. “Did I just make a fool of myself,” she asked gruffly.
Max caressed her hair, inhaling her sweet, clean scent. “No, you didn’t make a fool of yourself,” he reassured her softly, “I promise when we make love again it will be perfect…for both of us.”
Her heart fairly soared at his words. Not because he’d said their lovemaking would be perfect but because if had said when and not if. Max had every intention on coming back to her. He did want to repair their broken relationship. She simply had to be patient and wait for him to do so on his own terms.
They stopped at a motel on the Texas/Louisiana border for the night. By the time they had Max was so exhausted and in so much physical pain that he could barely stand. He didn’t even put up a fight when Liz purchased only one room and with her own money, no less. However, he did cling to a measure of stubbornness when stumbling off towards their room. He repeatedly rejected Liz’s offers for help. But when they finally reached their destination and Max’s knees nearly buckled with fatigue Liz ignored his protests and moved to flank him, looping his arm about her neck for support.
“I’ve got it,” Max insisted weakly as she guided him over towards the nearest bed.
“Shut up,” Liz admonished gently. She helped him ease down, noting how his face was colorless with pain. “Do you need some more Ibuprofen,” she urged worriedly.
“They don’t really help,” Max gasped, “Besides, right now, I’m feeling more exhaustion than pain.” His head fell forward wearily. “I feel so damned weak,” he muttered.
“You just had major surgery three days ago,” Liz reminded him tenderly, “You shouldn’t be pushing yourself so hard.”
“I…I know,” he wheezed.
Liz knelt before him, ducking her head so that she could see his face. “What can I do?”
“Nothing,” Max mumbled, “I’m just gonna take a shower--,” He tried to move to his feet then but ended up swaying drunkenly. He fell into Liz’s waiting arms.
“Max, you can barely stand,” Liz scolded him, “Let me help you, okay.”
“I just want a bath,” he panted, “It’s been days… I wanna feel clean.”
“Okay, okay,” Liz consented, easing him back down against the mattress once more. “Wait here and I’ll run you a bath.” She left him lying on the bed and crossed over into the bathroom to draw a bath. There weren’t any fancy soaps or bath oils she could add and Liz regretted that. Max was seriously tense and the bath oils would do a world of good in relaxing him. Liz usually brought such toiletries with her when she traveled but bath soaps and lotions had been the last thing on her mind when she learned that Max was in the hospital. Liz had merely thrown an armful of clothing into a suitcase and hopped a plane. She contented herself with running a steamy bath for him instead and adding a capful of the trial sized baby oil she carried in her purse to the water.
When she was done she crept back out into the main room to find Max lying in the exact same position she’d left him, only his eyes were closed. Liz tiptoed over to his side and leaned over him. “Max?” she whispered tentatively.
Without ever opening his eyes Max commented drowsily, “I’m just resting my eyes.” There was a slight smile in his tone.
Liz felt hope bloom forth in her heart to hear that smile. “Are you sure you still want the bath,” Liz pressed, biting back her answering smile, “Would you rather sleep?”
His eyes fluttered open then, reminding her of glimmering liquid gold. “No, I still want the bath,” he whispered and then there was a long pause of silence before he added hesitantly, “Will you help me?”
Those four words filled Liz with an indescribable joy. It wasn’t so much that he was willing to allow her to help him but that he had asked for it. With a wordless smile Liz helped him ease up from the bed and limp off into the bathroom. However, once she had and he was collapsed onto the toilet seat Liz didn’t leave him then. Instead she fell to her knees and began gingerly removing his shoes and socks.
Max watched her with hooded eyes, his emotions riotous and plainly visible. “You don’t have to do this,” he murmured.
“I want to help you,” Liz said simply when she’d finished. Straightening, she grabbed the hem of his t-shirt and whipped it over his head in a deft, but gentle motion…and then she gasped. His surgical scar was beginning to heal, but it was still very raw in appearance and the flesh surrounding the wound was horribly bruised. Yet that wasn’t what made Liz gasp in horror. It was how dangerously close that scar was situated to his heart. Her eyes flooded with helpless tears.
Seeing her look, Max tried to reassure her softly, “It’s starting to heal, Liz.”
She didn’t answer immediately. At that second Liz didn’t think she could possibly form the words. Instead she lifted her hand, tracing her fingers carefully along the crest of the scar. “Oh, Max…” she uttered.
“There’s one on my back, too,” Max whispered thickly, “from where they had to stitch the exit wound. It’s not as big as this one. I…I know they’re ugly.” Her tears spilled over then. “Why are you crying?” he asked hoarsely.
“I don’t like to think of you in so much pain,” she answered gruffly. She cradled his face in her hands, bringing their foreheads together until they touched.
“You make it better,” Max confessed in a whisper, “I don’t want you to…I don’t want to need you, but I do…” He started to cry then, not the harsh, wracking sobs that she’d expected but quiet tears that tracked down his cheeks like a river. Liz sponged them away with the pads of her thumbs, raining small kisses all over his face, her tears mingling with his.
When her lips found his it was like pure instinct. The touch was brief, breathless and wrought with sweet appeal. For a moment they stayed that way, foreheads nuzzling, exchanging soft puffs of breath in the aftermath of that fleeting but emotional kiss. Still holding his face between her hands Liz crawled into his lap and cuddled close. “Are you tired of fighting me now,” she asked him gently.
“You fight too hard,” Max replied raggedly, “I didn’t stand a chance.” He brushed his lips across the underside of her jaw. “I’m so sorry for the way I’ve been acting, Liz.” He buried his face against her shoulder. “I’m really fucked up.”
“No, Max--,”
“I am,” he insisted, not allowing her to finish out the protest, “I just feel so dead inside but what’s strange is that I want to be, Liz. I want to be…it hurts less that way.”
“Do you want me to stay away?” Liz whispered, cradling him even closer. She held her breath in expectation of his answer because Liz wasn’t sure that she had the strength to uphold his desire if he did.
“Yes…no…” Max wavered, “I don’t know what the hell I want…”
Liz smiled into the soft hair at his temple. “Okay, lets start simple then,” she suggested quietly, “How about that bath?”
She felt him smile against her shoulder, his first genuine smile in days. Liz’s heart warmed in response. She was so jubilant with this newest development that she barely heard him when he whispered, “A bath is highly doable.”
Liz slid off his lap, smiling down at him through her tears. “Can you take off your pants or do you need help?”
Max glanced up at her sharply. “Are…are you staying?”
“Max, you can barely stand,” Liz argued.
“You can’t give me a bath,” Max protested weakly.
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“But you haven’t seen it for a long time,” Max persisted, “It feels too weird.”
“I’ll just help you into the tub then…how about that?” He still appeared hesitant, his eyes wide and unsure. “I won’t do anything to make you uncomfortable,” Liz rushed to add, “And I’ll leave as soon as you’re settled.” He looked pensive for a moment longer before finally bobbing his head in agreement. Liz turned her back obligingly so that he could remove his pants and underwear in some semblance of privacy. In the end, he had to hold onto her just to keep from losing his balance.
“I’m done,” he croaked finally.
Liz turned and hooked her arm around his waist, assisting him carefully into the bath water. She surveyed his body peripherally; unable to ignore his striking weight loss now that he wasn’t fully clothed. Beneath her fingers she could feel how frail and thin he’d become, his ribs jutting into her palm. She shivered, realizing that limited food hadn’t caused that kind of weight loss, but immense depression had.
Max released a staggered moan as he was enveloped into the water. “Is it too hot?” Liz burst out softly, immediately concerned.
“No…no,” Max groaned, hunching forward a little, “It feels good.”
She rubbed his back in small circles, her fingers occasionally cresting over his scar there. Without thinking about it, Liz leaned forward and kissed the raw, puckered flesh. Max moaned again. “Does it hurt,” she whispered. Her warm breath soaked into his skin with every word.
“It’s numb there,” Max panted, “I can’t really feel it… But I know you’re kissing me and--,”
“And what, Max?” Liz prodded, lifting her somber gaze to his.
Max self-consciously dropped his eyes. “That feels good, too.”
Sensing that the moment was growing slightly uncomfortable for him, Liz casually plucked the soap and washcloth from his fingers and offered to wash his back. Again Max appeared torn by indecision before he finally inclined his head in a nod. In that instant something unspoken, momentous changed between them.
With careful precision, Liz washed his back in gentle circles. She started with his shoulders, working her way across his blades and then moving lower to the small of his back. Liz hesitated for only a moment before descending lower down his back, the cloth sweeping the swell of his buttocks just beneath the water’s surface. Her breath was coming in hitching gasps by then, her body suddenly afire with the need to touch him further…more intimately.
Liz looked up into Max’s eyes again to find him watching her in the most penetrating way, his gaze sharp and wary, dark with arousal. She wet her lips in unconscious provocation. “Do…do you want me to wash your chest, too?” she asked in a stuttering whisper, flattening an appealing hand against his heart. Liz leaned forward to nuzzle the rim of his ear, delighting in the sound of his responsive groan.
“What are you doing?” Max gasped.
“You want me to stop?” she murmured into his ear. Before he could answer Liz began sweeping her hand down the expanse of his chest, her palm scraping across the beaded ridge of his nipple. Max moaned again, turning his face into her throat. He whimpered her name in a disjointed prayer. “I won’t hurt you,” Liz promised, taking her exploration a little lower with each breath.
Though they hadn’t even touched one another in a manner that was overtly sexual Liz felt as if she’d been worked into a passionate frenzy. She was almost desperate to touch him, to have him touch her, to lie beneath him and feel his body pulsating within. The desire was like molten lava boiling through her veins. She hadn’t consciously set out to seduce Max at all. Her intentions had truly been altruistic. However, now there was no denying the hunger unfurling in her belly for him. And now, now that she’d realized fully what she was doing to him Liz couldn’t find the strength to stop. She slipped her hand lower, plunging it below the water level to curl her fingers around his rising erection.
Max grabbed hold of her hand before she could complete her intention and brought her fingers to his lips with an anguished cry. He’d moved quickly but not quickly enough for Liz to miss the feel of his rigid, hot skin brushing against her fingertips. “Please,” he pleaded softly, his eyes closed in silent agony, “Please, don’t do this to me.”
“Max, I just want to touch you,” she whispered hoarsely, “I need to touch you.”
Shimmering dark lashes fluttered open to reveal equally shimmering dark eyes. “Will it stop at touching?” Max countered quietly.
Liz shrugged, slightly unnerved by his frank rebuttal. Despite her unease, however, she met his argument with stiff recalcitrance. “I want to make love to you,” she said, meeting his eyes directly when she did, “And you want the same thing…so why shouldn’t we? If it makes us both feel good…why shouldn’t we?”
“Liz, we can’t,” Max insisted. Liz tried to turn away from him but he grabbed tight hold of her arm. It was the surprising strength of his grip that kept Liz from yanking away immediately…and then his words began to penetrate her heart. “Listen to me…” he pressed on urgently, “I’m not rejecting you. Don’t you have any idea how much I want to be inside you right now?” Liz inhaled a jerking breath at his bold confession, which turned into an aroused groan when he continued, “I want that so much, Liz. I want to feel your warm, tight body all around me, stroking me, pulling me in so deep…God, so deep, deeper than I ever imagined... I want to lose myself in you, Liz and forget the last miserable month…but I can’t…”
“Why not?” Liz demanded brokenly.
“Could you be satisfied with just sex, Liz?” Max wondered boldly. She didn’t need to answer verbally. The fact that she looked away the moment he asked the question was answer enough. “Cuz all I can give you right now is my body. I’m not in a place where I can make a commitment and it’s not fair to you to take what you’re offering and give back nothing in return.”
Liz dropped a kiss to his naked shoulder. “Maybe just being with you is enough for me,” she murmured willfully.
“Liz, you know it’s not,” he protested, swallowing back his moan of want as Liz swept her tongue over his skin. It took all his willpower to push her away. “Please, just…just let me work on getting my head straight again and…and being a father to our kid, okay?”
She pressed her heated face into his shoulder. “Did I just make a fool of myself,” she asked gruffly.
Max caressed her hair, inhaling her sweet, clean scent. “No, you didn’t make a fool of yourself,” he reassured her softly, “I promise when we make love again it will be perfect…for both of us.”
Her heart fairly soared at his words. Not because he’d said their lovemaking would be perfect but because if had said when and not if. Max had every intention on coming back to her. He did want to repair their broken relationship. She simply had to be patient and wait for him to do so on his own terms.
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Deejonaise
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2002 12:48 am
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Chapter Fifty-Two
Liz watched Max as he slept. He’d had no nightmares during the night, but had fallen into a deep, satisfying sleep. After Liz had left him alone to bathe he had come to bed with barely enough strength to pull on his pajamas. In fact, he hadn’t, but had collapsed into bed nude with his bath towel still wrapped around his waist. Not wanting to wake him, Liz wrapped the blanket around him and then curled up alongside him. She had been studying his sleeping form so long, her eyes traveling up and down the length of his blanket-clad form that she actually jumped in surprise when she lifted her eyes to his face once again and found him watching her.
“Hey,” he grunted, his voice husky with sleep.
“Hey,” Liz replied, her tone equally husky, “Sleep well?”
It seemed like a simple enough question, but Max was well aware that Liz knew about the nightmares that had been plaguing him. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Tess and that damned gun, but in his dreams she never missed. But what seriously terrified Max was the gladness he had felt because she didn’t…because he had wanted to die. Before Liz came back, Max had felt as if he was merely drifting through day-to-day life. He got up, he brushed his teeth, he shuffled off to…wherever, but he didn’t feel anything. That night Tess had showed up at his job with that gun a small part of him had been relieved. And after the bullet had torn through his body that part of him had sincerely hoped that he wouldn’t wake up.
But he did wake up…to Liz’s caressing fingers; her beautiful smile and for the first time in a long while Max had felt peace. It wasn’t until later, when he woke up for real, that fury began to replace that peace. He’d been furious over so many things, too. Furious that Liz had left him without giving him the chance to explain himself, furious at his father for being so damned hard and his mother for her acquiescent attitude. Furious at Jeff and Michael for their lack of mercy and even furious with Isabel for not standing up for him and definitely furious with Tess for missing her mark. But mostly, Max was furious with himself, with his stupidity and his foolish choices. He couldn’t help but feel that he’d somehow brought all this misery down on himself.
And then everything began to change when Liz told him about the baby. Max was still angry, but he was indescribably hopeful as well. Gradually, but steadily Liz had been thawing the ice around his heart ever since. He didn’t want to need her or anybody really, but especially not her. She had the power to hurt him worse than anyone. However, Max realized now that he had that same power to hurt her and he had. It dawned on him finally that she was just as wounded as he was and that she needed a friend just as badly as he did. That was the exact moment he decided to stop fighting her.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t anticipated that the situation would take the turn it had last night. She had nearly undone him with her gentle kisses and pleading eyes. He had been so pathetically close to taking her up on her offer. Nothing could have satisfied Max more than losing himself in her body and stifling the pain in his heart, even if for just a little while. Even if he had been unable to finish, and it was quite likely that he would be unable, part of him had still wanted to try. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t use her that way. He’d done so once before, that night they had gotten so drunk and stupid, and look where it had led. Max was determined that he wouldn’t repeat his past mistakes.
He pushed himself upright in the bed, causing the sheets to pool around his waist. “I slept very well, thank you,” he replied politely in answer to Liz’s question, “And you?”
“I watched you mostly,” she said.
A hooded look fell over his eyes at her declaration and Max began nervously plucking at the sheets. “What time is it?” he mumbled.
“A little after 8 a.m.,” Liz told him, “I was thinking we’d be on the road earlier than this, but you looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to wake you.”
“It’s the first decent night’s worth of sleep I’ve had in a while,” Max admitted quietly. And it’s completely because of you, he added silently. But then Max considered why the admission had to be silent. Why couldn’t he just simply tell Liz she was the reason, that the only reason he was still sane was because of the compassion she’d shown him? Max decided then not to leave anything else between them unspoken. Liz had said that their relationship died without communication. Max realized that if he was really going to work with her to fix things he’d have to start telling her how he felt. “Thanks,” he said gruffly, “you know…for sticking by me. It couldn’t have been easy. I know I was a total jerk to you.”
The corner of Liz’s mouth lifted in a crooked smile. “Did it help?” she asked carefully.
“More than you know.” Another discomfited pause fell between them, made even more tense when Max started to push himself from the covers only to belatedly realize that he was naked. Their eyes met for a horrified moment before dancing away in embarrassment. “My…my clothes?” Max stammered out, cheeks aflame.
Liz felt color bloom in her face as well. “They’re…uh…um…in the bathroom,” she stuttered in return, “You…um…left them there.”
“I slept naked?”
“You were tired.”
He studied her through the canopy of his dark lashes. “And you slept beside me?” he prodded.
“On the outside,” Liz quickly reassured him, her face burning hotter, “We didn’t…um…touch or anything…” She closed her eyes in a desperate effort to recollect her thoughts. “Why don’t I just get them for you?” she offered, launching herself from the bed before he even had a chance to answer.
Once she reached the sanctity of the bathroom Liz splashed cold water on her face, mortification rolling through her in humiliating waves. She had seen the look on Max’s face as he recalled last night’s events and the reason his clothes were in the bathroom. His entire face had lit up in a brilliant red. What Liz couldn’t figure out was if he was okay with what had happened or if he regretted it.
For her part, Liz didn’t regret it. She was glad she’d let Max know exactly how she felt about him. There was no way he could mistake her intentions now. He had to know that she didn’t want just friendship and, when the time came; she’d be ready to take their relationship further.
However, where Liz didn’t regret her actions she could also see that she had acted a bit prematurely. Max was still healing from his surgery, a healing they had complicated and slowed when he left the hospital against doctor’s orders. Liz knew that he needed to relax and working him up into a sexual fervor was not helping that goal. It was very likely that, had they made love last night, they could have easily popped his stitches or caused a major setback. That was definitely not part of Liz’s plan. Clearly, she hadn’t been thinking straight at all. Her mad desire to ease the lonely ache within them both had overridden her reason. It just seemed that they had endured so much misery in the last few months Liz had only wanted them both to experience a little joy. Her intentions had been for the best, but horribly ill-timed.
Now, in the harsh reality of the morning, Liz recognized that she’d acted rashly. She hadn’t at all changed her mind about wanting to be with Max but she wisely understood that now was not the time. He was right. He did need time to heal, both emotionally and physically. Liz would just have to learn to live with the intense craving she suddenly had for him.
After she’d composed herself to a satisfactory degree, Liz scooped up Max’s clothes and left the bathroom. “I brought your clothes,” she announced softly, startling Max out of his brooding thoughts. Liz crossed over to lay the bundle on clothing at the foot of the bed. “I’ll just give you a minute,” she whispered, “and go get us some breakfast, okay?”
“Yeah,” Max agreed thickly, “You know what I like.”
She started to turn on her heel and leave then, but the need to explain herself took precedence. Liz didn’t want to leave without saying her piece and hearing his response. “Max, about last night--,”
“Liz, it’s not a big deal. I--,”
“—I’m not sorry,” she finished quickly, “But I realize that it might have been too fast for you…for both of us. I wasn’t meaning to push so hard.”
“You…you didn’t.” His eyes darted away from her face and back again. “I’m glad you can want me.”
Liz suddenly felt the sting of tears prickling at the back of her eyelids. “I’m…I’m glad you could want me, too,” she replied gruffly. She decided to leave quickly after that, not wanting to make a complete idiot of herself by blubbering right there in front of him.
After she was gone Max had to take a few minutes to compose himself before reaching for his clothes and climbing from the bed. As he started to pull on his pants, however, he caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror across the room. With a slight frown, Max padded over to study his reflection at close range. Once he did he couldn’t help but flinch at what he saw.
He was ridiculously thin, his ribs jutting out in the most obscene way. Max smoothed his fingers down his ribcage with a grimace of revulsion. His skin was pasty colored, which only served to make the scar on his chest look ten times as raw. He flexed his arms experimentally, ignoring the slicing pain in his chest as he did. A month without working out had weakened much of his muscle tone and, although he did still have some definition, there was a marked difference between his rangy frame now and the muscular body he’d had before. No wonder Liz had cried last night. He looked like a walking dead man. Max made a mental note to work on his body at his earliest convenience.
With a heavy sigh of resignation Max grabbed up the small tote bag full of his underwear and toiletries and resumed dressing. It took him some time considering how gingerly he moved for his wounds, however, Liz still hadn’t returned by the time he was done. Max took the extra time he had to clip his hair and shave the stubble darkening the lower half of his face. By the time he was finished he was beyond fatigued and shaking with exhaustion, but it was the most human he’d felt in days. Using his last reserves of strength Max hobbled back to the bed and lay down to wait for Liz.
She came back twenty minutes later, her arms loaded down with food, her face wreathed in a smile of greeting. “What took you so long?” Max asked tiredly as he watched her lay the food down on the small wooden table beside the bed.
“These,” Liz replied flippantly. She tossed a small bag marked Walgreens onto the bed. “I got your prescription filled while I was out.”
Max was already tearing open the bag before she’d even finished the sentence. “Thank you, thank you,” he chanted expansively, “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking before.”
“Maybe you were trying to punish yourself,” Liz suggesting quietly as she passed him his Coke so that he could take his pain pill. She eased down beside him, brushing the stray locks of hair from his eyes. “Is that what you were trying to do, Max?” Instead of answering Max took meticulous care to set his Coke on the nightstand but his downcast eyes provided her with an answer. “Max,” she insisted softly, cupping his jaw so that he was forced to look at her, “You didn’t bring this on yourself. You didn’t deserve any of the stuff that happened, especially Tess shooting you.”
“You can say that even after the terrible way I treated you?” Max wondered meekly.
“Max, I’m not completely blameless in all of this,” Liz replied with calm logic, “We both made mistakes. We both hurt each other in unimaginable ways. Now is the time to forgive each other and, most importantly, ourselves and move on with our lives. It’s not just us anymore.” She took hold of his hand and laid it against her tummy, splaying her own hand atop his. “We have to think about our baby now.”
Max curled his fingers into her belly, resting his forehead against her collarbone. “Our baby,” he whispered in tremulous awe, “We actually made a baby together, Liz.”
Liz gently caressed his newly clipped hair. “We actually did,” she murmured in amazed agreement. It wasn’t the first time Liz had reflected on the beautiful reality of her pregnancy but it was the first time she had shared it with Max. She took that time now, holding him close as he pressed his cheek down against her abdomen and brushed sweet butterfly kisses through her t-shirt. She tangled her fingers through his hair, loving him so much in that moment she thought her heart might explode. “Your hair looks good,” she croaked emotionally, unable to think of anything more appropriate to say in the face of such a sensitive moment.
She felt him smile into her stomach. “Is that a nice way of telling me I looked scruffy before?”
Liz laughed aloud at his teasing. “Yeah, well you did, but…it is really nice to see your face again.” He looked up at her with shining eyes. “I missed it.”
“Yeah, me too,” Max agreed quietly. And then, reluctantly, Max broke the moment by pushing upright and hitching his chin off towards the table. “You expecting company or something?” he teased irreverently, “We can’t possibly eat all that.”
“Oh, we aren’t going to eat it,” Liz corrected smugly, “You are.”
“No way!”
“You’re too skinny,” Liz argued.
“Yeah, well if I make a habit of eating like that you’ll have to grease me down just to fit me through the doorways!”
“We won’t have to worry about that for awhile though,” she returned laughingly as she raked him with a once-over that was meant to be mocking but somehow became frank perusal instead. Even with all the weight loss Max still had a damned fine body. She decided to tell him so. Max blushed. “What?” Liz guffawed with feigned innocence, “It’s true.”
“I…I need to work out more,” Max commented self-consciously.
“No, your body’s perfect…you just need to gain a little weight,” Liz protested zealously and then promptly blushed, “Although, I wouldn’t know much about men’s bodies. I’m not an expert or anything but…but I know what I like…I guess… Oh, this isn’t coming out right at all.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Max reassured her a little cautiously. He suddenly studies the spot right above her head. “So you know what you like, huh? Does that mean that Kyle works out, too?” That last part was thrown in much too casually, but Liz could sense the tension in his question despite his bland expression.
“I wouldn’t know what Kyle does,” she replied softly, “I haven’t seen him since I left Roswell…you know…after we broke up.”
“Oh?”
“I talk to him on the phone pretty regularly though,” Liz explained carefully, “But we’re just friends and that’s all. That’s all we’ve ever been.”
Relieved amber eyes sliced over her face brightened with hope. “Really?”
Liz strummed her thumb over the ridge of his cheekbone. “I’ve only ever loved one man, Max Evans,” she avowed sweetly, “and that’s you. It will always be you.” He didn’t say he loved her in return but in that moment Liz didn’t need to hear it. His feelings for her were blazing apparent in his eyes, causing them to darken beautifully. Liz leaned forward to brush his lips in a tender kiss, the contentment flooding her veins leaving her relaxed and absurdly pleased. “Come on, enough talking…let’s eat.”
Liz watched Max as he slept. He’d had no nightmares during the night, but had fallen into a deep, satisfying sleep. After Liz had left him alone to bathe he had come to bed with barely enough strength to pull on his pajamas. In fact, he hadn’t, but had collapsed into bed nude with his bath towel still wrapped around his waist. Not wanting to wake him, Liz wrapped the blanket around him and then curled up alongside him. She had been studying his sleeping form so long, her eyes traveling up and down the length of his blanket-clad form that she actually jumped in surprise when she lifted her eyes to his face once again and found him watching her.
“Hey,” he grunted, his voice husky with sleep.
“Hey,” Liz replied, her tone equally husky, “Sleep well?”
It seemed like a simple enough question, but Max was well aware that Liz knew about the nightmares that had been plaguing him. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Tess and that damned gun, but in his dreams she never missed. But what seriously terrified Max was the gladness he had felt because she didn’t…because he had wanted to die. Before Liz came back, Max had felt as if he was merely drifting through day-to-day life. He got up, he brushed his teeth, he shuffled off to…wherever, but he didn’t feel anything. That night Tess had showed up at his job with that gun a small part of him had been relieved. And after the bullet had torn through his body that part of him had sincerely hoped that he wouldn’t wake up.
But he did wake up…to Liz’s caressing fingers; her beautiful smile and for the first time in a long while Max had felt peace. It wasn’t until later, when he woke up for real, that fury began to replace that peace. He’d been furious over so many things, too. Furious that Liz had left him without giving him the chance to explain himself, furious at his father for being so damned hard and his mother for her acquiescent attitude. Furious at Jeff and Michael for their lack of mercy and even furious with Isabel for not standing up for him and definitely furious with Tess for missing her mark. But mostly, Max was furious with himself, with his stupidity and his foolish choices. He couldn’t help but feel that he’d somehow brought all this misery down on himself.
And then everything began to change when Liz told him about the baby. Max was still angry, but he was indescribably hopeful as well. Gradually, but steadily Liz had been thawing the ice around his heart ever since. He didn’t want to need her or anybody really, but especially not her. She had the power to hurt him worse than anyone. However, Max realized now that he had that same power to hurt her and he had. It dawned on him finally that she was just as wounded as he was and that she needed a friend just as badly as he did. That was the exact moment he decided to stop fighting her.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t anticipated that the situation would take the turn it had last night. She had nearly undone him with her gentle kisses and pleading eyes. He had been so pathetically close to taking her up on her offer. Nothing could have satisfied Max more than losing himself in her body and stifling the pain in his heart, even if for just a little while. Even if he had been unable to finish, and it was quite likely that he would be unable, part of him had still wanted to try. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t use her that way. He’d done so once before, that night they had gotten so drunk and stupid, and look where it had led. Max was determined that he wouldn’t repeat his past mistakes.
He pushed himself upright in the bed, causing the sheets to pool around his waist. “I slept very well, thank you,” he replied politely in answer to Liz’s question, “And you?”
“I watched you mostly,” she said.
A hooded look fell over his eyes at her declaration and Max began nervously plucking at the sheets. “What time is it?” he mumbled.
“A little after 8 a.m.,” Liz told him, “I was thinking we’d be on the road earlier than this, but you looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to wake you.”
“It’s the first decent night’s worth of sleep I’ve had in a while,” Max admitted quietly. And it’s completely because of you, he added silently. But then Max considered why the admission had to be silent. Why couldn’t he just simply tell Liz she was the reason, that the only reason he was still sane was because of the compassion she’d shown him? Max decided then not to leave anything else between them unspoken. Liz had said that their relationship died without communication. Max realized that if he was really going to work with her to fix things he’d have to start telling her how he felt. “Thanks,” he said gruffly, “you know…for sticking by me. It couldn’t have been easy. I know I was a total jerk to you.”
The corner of Liz’s mouth lifted in a crooked smile. “Did it help?” she asked carefully.
“More than you know.” Another discomfited pause fell between them, made even more tense when Max started to push himself from the covers only to belatedly realize that he was naked. Their eyes met for a horrified moment before dancing away in embarrassment. “My…my clothes?” Max stammered out, cheeks aflame.
Liz felt color bloom in her face as well. “They’re…uh…um…in the bathroom,” she stuttered in return, “You…um…left them there.”
“I slept naked?”
“You were tired.”
He studied her through the canopy of his dark lashes. “And you slept beside me?” he prodded.
“On the outside,” Liz quickly reassured him, her face burning hotter, “We didn’t…um…touch or anything…” She closed her eyes in a desperate effort to recollect her thoughts. “Why don’t I just get them for you?” she offered, launching herself from the bed before he even had a chance to answer.
Once she reached the sanctity of the bathroom Liz splashed cold water on her face, mortification rolling through her in humiliating waves. She had seen the look on Max’s face as he recalled last night’s events and the reason his clothes were in the bathroom. His entire face had lit up in a brilliant red. What Liz couldn’t figure out was if he was okay with what had happened or if he regretted it.
For her part, Liz didn’t regret it. She was glad she’d let Max know exactly how she felt about him. There was no way he could mistake her intentions now. He had to know that she didn’t want just friendship and, when the time came; she’d be ready to take their relationship further.
However, where Liz didn’t regret her actions she could also see that she had acted a bit prematurely. Max was still healing from his surgery, a healing they had complicated and slowed when he left the hospital against doctor’s orders. Liz knew that he needed to relax and working him up into a sexual fervor was not helping that goal. It was very likely that, had they made love last night, they could have easily popped his stitches or caused a major setback. That was definitely not part of Liz’s plan. Clearly, she hadn’t been thinking straight at all. Her mad desire to ease the lonely ache within them both had overridden her reason. It just seemed that they had endured so much misery in the last few months Liz had only wanted them both to experience a little joy. Her intentions had been for the best, but horribly ill-timed.
Now, in the harsh reality of the morning, Liz recognized that she’d acted rashly. She hadn’t at all changed her mind about wanting to be with Max but she wisely understood that now was not the time. He was right. He did need time to heal, both emotionally and physically. Liz would just have to learn to live with the intense craving she suddenly had for him.
After she’d composed herself to a satisfactory degree, Liz scooped up Max’s clothes and left the bathroom. “I brought your clothes,” she announced softly, startling Max out of his brooding thoughts. Liz crossed over to lay the bundle on clothing at the foot of the bed. “I’ll just give you a minute,” she whispered, “and go get us some breakfast, okay?”
“Yeah,” Max agreed thickly, “You know what I like.”
She started to turn on her heel and leave then, but the need to explain herself took precedence. Liz didn’t want to leave without saying her piece and hearing his response. “Max, about last night--,”
“Liz, it’s not a big deal. I--,”
“—I’m not sorry,” she finished quickly, “But I realize that it might have been too fast for you…for both of us. I wasn’t meaning to push so hard.”
“You…you didn’t.” His eyes darted away from her face and back again. “I’m glad you can want me.”
Liz suddenly felt the sting of tears prickling at the back of her eyelids. “I’m…I’m glad you could want me, too,” she replied gruffly. She decided to leave quickly after that, not wanting to make a complete idiot of herself by blubbering right there in front of him.
After she was gone Max had to take a few minutes to compose himself before reaching for his clothes and climbing from the bed. As he started to pull on his pants, however, he caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror across the room. With a slight frown, Max padded over to study his reflection at close range. Once he did he couldn’t help but flinch at what he saw.
He was ridiculously thin, his ribs jutting out in the most obscene way. Max smoothed his fingers down his ribcage with a grimace of revulsion. His skin was pasty colored, which only served to make the scar on his chest look ten times as raw. He flexed his arms experimentally, ignoring the slicing pain in his chest as he did. A month without working out had weakened much of his muscle tone and, although he did still have some definition, there was a marked difference between his rangy frame now and the muscular body he’d had before. No wonder Liz had cried last night. He looked like a walking dead man. Max made a mental note to work on his body at his earliest convenience.
With a heavy sigh of resignation Max grabbed up the small tote bag full of his underwear and toiletries and resumed dressing. It took him some time considering how gingerly he moved for his wounds, however, Liz still hadn’t returned by the time he was done. Max took the extra time he had to clip his hair and shave the stubble darkening the lower half of his face. By the time he was finished he was beyond fatigued and shaking with exhaustion, but it was the most human he’d felt in days. Using his last reserves of strength Max hobbled back to the bed and lay down to wait for Liz.
She came back twenty minutes later, her arms loaded down with food, her face wreathed in a smile of greeting. “What took you so long?” Max asked tiredly as he watched her lay the food down on the small wooden table beside the bed.
“These,” Liz replied flippantly. She tossed a small bag marked Walgreens onto the bed. “I got your prescription filled while I was out.”
Max was already tearing open the bag before she’d even finished the sentence. “Thank you, thank you,” he chanted expansively, “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking before.”
“Maybe you were trying to punish yourself,” Liz suggesting quietly as she passed him his Coke so that he could take his pain pill. She eased down beside him, brushing the stray locks of hair from his eyes. “Is that what you were trying to do, Max?” Instead of answering Max took meticulous care to set his Coke on the nightstand but his downcast eyes provided her with an answer. “Max,” she insisted softly, cupping his jaw so that he was forced to look at her, “You didn’t bring this on yourself. You didn’t deserve any of the stuff that happened, especially Tess shooting you.”
“You can say that even after the terrible way I treated you?” Max wondered meekly.
“Max, I’m not completely blameless in all of this,” Liz replied with calm logic, “We both made mistakes. We both hurt each other in unimaginable ways. Now is the time to forgive each other and, most importantly, ourselves and move on with our lives. It’s not just us anymore.” She took hold of his hand and laid it against her tummy, splaying her own hand atop his. “We have to think about our baby now.”
Max curled his fingers into her belly, resting his forehead against her collarbone. “Our baby,” he whispered in tremulous awe, “We actually made a baby together, Liz.”
Liz gently caressed his newly clipped hair. “We actually did,” she murmured in amazed agreement. It wasn’t the first time Liz had reflected on the beautiful reality of her pregnancy but it was the first time she had shared it with Max. She took that time now, holding him close as he pressed his cheek down against her abdomen and brushed sweet butterfly kisses through her t-shirt. She tangled her fingers through his hair, loving him so much in that moment she thought her heart might explode. “Your hair looks good,” she croaked emotionally, unable to think of anything more appropriate to say in the face of such a sensitive moment.
She felt him smile into her stomach. “Is that a nice way of telling me I looked scruffy before?”
Liz laughed aloud at his teasing. “Yeah, well you did, but…it is really nice to see your face again.” He looked up at her with shining eyes. “I missed it.”
“Yeah, me too,” Max agreed quietly. And then, reluctantly, Max broke the moment by pushing upright and hitching his chin off towards the table. “You expecting company or something?” he teased irreverently, “We can’t possibly eat all that.”
“Oh, we aren’t going to eat it,” Liz corrected smugly, “You are.”
“No way!”
“You’re too skinny,” Liz argued.
“Yeah, well if I make a habit of eating like that you’ll have to grease me down just to fit me through the doorways!”
“We won’t have to worry about that for awhile though,” she returned laughingly as she raked him with a once-over that was meant to be mocking but somehow became frank perusal instead. Even with all the weight loss Max still had a damned fine body. She decided to tell him so. Max blushed. “What?” Liz guffawed with feigned innocence, “It’s true.”
“I…I need to work out more,” Max commented self-consciously.
“No, your body’s perfect…you just need to gain a little weight,” Liz protested zealously and then promptly blushed, “Although, I wouldn’t know much about men’s bodies. I’m not an expert or anything but…but I know what I like…I guess… Oh, this isn’t coming out right at all.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” Max reassured her a little cautiously. He suddenly studies the spot right above her head. “So you know what you like, huh? Does that mean that Kyle works out, too?” That last part was thrown in much too casually, but Liz could sense the tension in his question despite his bland expression.
“I wouldn’t know what Kyle does,” she replied softly, “I haven’t seen him since I left Roswell…you know…after we broke up.”
“Oh?”
“I talk to him on the phone pretty regularly though,” Liz explained carefully, “But we’re just friends and that’s all. That’s all we’ve ever been.”
Relieved amber eyes sliced over her face brightened with hope. “Really?”
Liz strummed her thumb over the ridge of his cheekbone. “I’ve only ever loved one man, Max Evans,” she avowed sweetly, “and that’s you. It will always be you.” He didn’t say he loved her in return but in that moment Liz didn’t need to hear it. His feelings for her were blazing apparent in his eyes, causing them to darken beautifully. Liz leaned forward to brush his lips in a tender kiss, the contentment flooding her veins leaving her relaxed and absurdly pleased. “Come on, enough talking…let’s eat.”
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Deejonaise
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2002 12:48 am
- Location: On my rusty dusty...
Chapter Fifty-Three
“Where the hell have you been?” Maria demanded when she pulled open the front door and found a disheveled Max and Liz standing outside on the stoop. She grabbed hold of Liz’s forearm and yanked her close for a fierce, relieved hug. “I have been worried sick!” she cried, squeezing Liz so tight her face began to turn a blazing shade of red. And then, with striking capriciousness, Maria shoved Liz backwards and shook her with scolding concern, “Why didn’t you call me?”
“My cell phone went dead,” Liz answered lamely, “And…and I didn’t have a phone card.”
“You could have dialed 1-800-Collect, hello,” Maria threw back sarcastically. She was about to launch into another tirade when she finally recognized that Max was standing just beyond her friend’s shoulder. He looked about ready to collapse on his feet. “Oh my God,” she uttered, collecting herself enough to usher them inside. “You should sit down,” Maria ordered Max solicitously, all but shoving him into the nearest chair, “You look like shit,” she informed Max succinctly and then whirled on Liz, her expression admonishing, “He looks like shit,” she reiterated to Liz, “Should he even be traveling in his condition?”
“Really, I’m fine,” Max protested wearily, “It’s just nineteen hours confined to a car isn’t exactly conducive to comfort.” He quirked his lips in a derisive half smile and favored Maria with twin thumbs-up signs. “But thanks for telling me I look like shit. It was a real esteem booster.”
Maria clapped her hand over her mouth, completely mortified at the thought that she might have offended him. “I am so sorry,” she apologized profusely, “I have the annoying tendency to speak before I think.”
“Maria, relax,” Liz laughed, “He’s just teasing you.” She looked at Max then, her smile softening considerably. The two exchanged a wordless, poignant moment, their gazes seemingly melded into one.
Maria’s mouth fell open in shock. The secretive look that passed between Max and Liz didn’t escape her notice at all. Just what the hell had happened between the two of them in the last three days? The last she’d heard Max was being a complete ass and now they were trading syrupy looks of infatuation? Something was definitely going on… Carefully masking her curiosity behind a deliberately bland expression, Maria asked, “So did you two have a nice trip?”
“It was exhausting,” Liz answered as she collapsed onto the sofa, “I swear I could sleep for a whole week!”
“Um…yeah,” Maria prodded casually, propping her hip against the arm rest of the couch, “Speaking of sleep, how exactly are we doing the sleeping arrangements here?” Again with the secret looks, only this time they actually blushed. Maria narrowed her eyes suspiciously as Liz favored her with a guileless smile.
“Well, actually I was thinking that Max could take my room,” she explained innocently, “Since he’s still recovering from his surgery I don’t think it would be a good idea for him to bunk on the sofa.”
“And just where are you planning to sleep?” Maria demanded bluntly.
Liz’s face ripened with color once more. “I thought I could stay with you,” she replied somewhat hesitantly, “I mean…if that’s okay?”
Maria relaxed then, giving Liz’s shoulder a playful nudge. “Oh yeah, of course you can stay with me!” she said dismissively, “Sorry, it’s one in the morning and I’m not thinking straight.”
“It’s okay,” Liz told her, “Are you too tired to help me unload the car?”
It took them both ten minutes to empty the trunk of its contents. Max insisted on watching them from the doorway to ensure their safety. It was his way of helping in spite of his limited circumstances. Liz was secretly glad for his presence, not because she feared that something might actually happen to them but because his standing there prevented Maria from firing her with questions. It was a limited reprieve, however. Liz knew that Maria would pounce at her earliest opportunity.
After they had finally brought the last of Max and Liz’s belongings inside Maria shuffled off for her room while Liz went to get Max situated in her bedroom. He emitted a low whistle when he saw it. “You’ve got a nice set up here,” he commented.
“Bought and paid for by my daddy dearest,” Liz replied with an edge of bitterness, “When I think about all the time I was here letting him buy my affection and you were struggling--,”
Max pressed his fingers to her lips, silencing her harsh tirade. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered tenderly, “Remember? You told me that we need to forgive ourselves and move on. Let’s not dwell on the past anymore.”
Liz nibble at her lower lip in chagrin. “It’s just kinda hard sometimes.”
“Yeah, I know it,” Max agreed, turning away from her again to survey the bedroom once more, “It’s different from your room back in Roswell.” He traced his finger over her Sony Playstation. He also noted that she had a DVD player, a wide screen television, which he was willing to guess received the premium channels, and a top of the line stereo sound system. “A lot more distractions in here.”
“Well, I was trying not to think about you,” Liz confessed honestly.
Glancing back over his shoulder, Max favored her with a surprised look. “Did it work?”
“No,” Liz answered bluntly.
“Not for me either,” Max admitted, “I mean the not thinking about you part.” He sank down onto the bed; his gaze sad and resigned all at once. “I tried to put you out of my mind, but I couldn’t. I thought about you everyday, Liz.” He rubbed the back of his neck tiredly, his fatigue showing. “Hey, thanks again for letting me crash here.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Max. I’d do anything for you,” Liz replied softly. A moment of unbounded feeling passed between them, so delicate and perfect that both of them were afraid to breath for fear of breaking it. And then Liz sighed, her eyes finally dropped away from Max’s trenchant stare. “I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning,” she said cautiously, “Do you think you’d like to come?”
Max was surprised by her invitation and it showed. “You…you wouldn’t mind?” he asked tentatively.
“No,” Liz assured him, “I want you to come with me.”
Again the room was permeated with their unspoken connection that had sprung between them. “Then…yeah,” Max agreed breathlessly, “I will.”
Liz smiled and stepped forward to envelop him in an awkward hug, her breath hitching when he buried his face in her belly and murmured good night to their baby. And then he lifted those beautiful golden eyes of his to her face and Liz’s knees became pure jelly. She swallowed hard.
“Goodnight to you, too, Liz,” Max whispered softly.
Liz stepped from his loose embrace, her heart pounding. “Goodnight, Max,” she uttered gruffly. She drifted from the room on shaky legs, only remembering at the last minute to grab some clean pajamas for herself before trudging off to Maria’s room. Liz wasn’t at all surprised to find Maria propped up against the headboard waiting for her.
“So, Gidget, you wanna tell me what’s going on with you and Moondoggie in there?” she demanded pithily.
Liz tried not to roll her eyes but didn’t quite make it. She and Max had shared something monumentally special a moment ago and Liz had no desire to reduce it to idle gossip. “Maria, nothing is going on,” she intoned with, what she hoped was, dry exasperation, “Max and I have made our peace with each other. That’s it.”
“Sure, that’s it,” Maria replied, unconvinced, “And that’s why he was out there in the living room eating you alive with his eyes.”
“Eating me alive?” Liz guffawed as she stripped down to her underwear, “Maria, what are you smoking?”
“I know what I saw,” she insisted stubbornly.
“You didn’t see anything, but two friends being friends,” Liz countered, yanking her pajama shirt down over her head, “Don’t make more out of this than what it is, okay!”
“You wouldn’t be so testy if nothing was going on,” Maria reasoned after Liz had climbed into bed. She wasn’t graced with a response, however. Liz merely flipped onto her side and covered her head with a pillow. “Come on, Lizzie,” Maria whined, “Talk to me here.”
Liz tossed away her pillow and flopped onto her back, scowling with mild annoyance. “We’ve decided to be friends again,” she announced in exasperation, “There’s the big secret! Can I go to sleep now?”
Maria folded her arms over her chest in mute speculation. “You sound kinda irritated by that fact,” she said after a considerable pause.
“Irritated by what?” Liz huffed.
“I don’t know…maybe the fact that you and Max are just friends,” Maria ventured airily.
Liz presented Maria with her back for a second time. “I’m not irritated,” she denied briskly, “I’m just…just…”
“Irritated?” Maria provided irreverently.
She was pinned with a glacial glare for her trouble. “I’m impatient,” Liz corrected with a long-suffering sigh, “I’ve loved Max for half my life and this is the first time that’s he’s returned my feelings. I mean…he actually loves me back. I know he wants to be with me and I want to be with him so much, too--,”
“I’m sensing the but--?”
“But he’s not ready for a serious commitment,” Liz replied regretfully, “He’s really, really skittish about being in a relationship. What happened with me and Tess seriously screwed him up.”
“So the guy has two bad relationships and he completely gives up on love,” Maria scoffed, “That makes absolutely no sense.”
“It does if those two relationships are the only ones you’ve ever had,” Liz countered glumly.
“Oh,” was Maria’s only response.
Liz heaved a dejected groan. “How am I ever going to convince him that he can give himself over to love when I’m one of the women who trampled his heart in the first place?”
“You got me there, babe,” Maria replied with a shrug.
Liz leveled her with a bland expression. “Gee, thanks, Maria,” she said sarcastically, “You’re a fount of wisdom as usual.” She was surprised when, despite her churlish demeanor, Maria laid a comforting hand against her shoulder. It was enough to compel Liz to roll over and regard her friend with uncertain eyes.
“Lizzie, I saw the way he looked at you tonight,” Maria whispered, “He’s already halfway there.”
“I know,” Liz conceded softly, “It’s just I feel like I’ve been waiting for him all my life.” She raised tear-brightened eyes to Maria’s compassionate face. “I couldn’t stand it if I lost him now.”
“Where the hell have you been?” Maria demanded when she pulled open the front door and found a disheveled Max and Liz standing outside on the stoop. She grabbed hold of Liz’s forearm and yanked her close for a fierce, relieved hug. “I have been worried sick!” she cried, squeezing Liz so tight her face began to turn a blazing shade of red. And then, with striking capriciousness, Maria shoved Liz backwards and shook her with scolding concern, “Why didn’t you call me?”
“My cell phone went dead,” Liz answered lamely, “And…and I didn’t have a phone card.”
“You could have dialed 1-800-Collect, hello,” Maria threw back sarcastically. She was about to launch into another tirade when she finally recognized that Max was standing just beyond her friend’s shoulder. He looked about ready to collapse on his feet. “Oh my God,” she uttered, collecting herself enough to usher them inside. “You should sit down,” Maria ordered Max solicitously, all but shoving him into the nearest chair, “You look like shit,” she informed Max succinctly and then whirled on Liz, her expression admonishing, “He looks like shit,” she reiterated to Liz, “Should he even be traveling in his condition?”
“Really, I’m fine,” Max protested wearily, “It’s just nineteen hours confined to a car isn’t exactly conducive to comfort.” He quirked his lips in a derisive half smile and favored Maria with twin thumbs-up signs. “But thanks for telling me I look like shit. It was a real esteem booster.”
Maria clapped her hand over her mouth, completely mortified at the thought that she might have offended him. “I am so sorry,” she apologized profusely, “I have the annoying tendency to speak before I think.”
“Maria, relax,” Liz laughed, “He’s just teasing you.” She looked at Max then, her smile softening considerably. The two exchanged a wordless, poignant moment, their gazes seemingly melded into one.
Maria’s mouth fell open in shock. The secretive look that passed between Max and Liz didn’t escape her notice at all. Just what the hell had happened between the two of them in the last three days? The last she’d heard Max was being a complete ass and now they were trading syrupy looks of infatuation? Something was definitely going on… Carefully masking her curiosity behind a deliberately bland expression, Maria asked, “So did you two have a nice trip?”
“It was exhausting,” Liz answered as she collapsed onto the sofa, “I swear I could sleep for a whole week!”
“Um…yeah,” Maria prodded casually, propping her hip against the arm rest of the couch, “Speaking of sleep, how exactly are we doing the sleeping arrangements here?” Again with the secret looks, only this time they actually blushed. Maria narrowed her eyes suspiciously as Liz favored her with a guileless smile.
“Well, actually I was thinking that Max could take my room,” she explained innocently, “Since he’s still recovering from his surgery I don’t think it would be a good idea for him to bunk on the sofa.”
“And just where are you planning to sleep?” Maria demanded bluntly.
Liz’s face ripened with color once more. “I thought I could stay with you,” she replied somewhat hesitantly, “I mean…if that’s okay?”
Maria relaxed then, giving Liz’s shoulder a playful nudge. “Oh yeah, of course you can stay with me!” she said dismissively, “Sorry, it’s one in the morning and I’m not thinking straight.”
“It’s okay,” Liz told her, “Are you too tired to help me unload the car?”
It took them both ten minutes to empty the trunk of its contents. Max insisted on watching them from the doorway to ensure their safety. It was his way of helping in spite of his limited circumstances. Liz was secretly glad for his presence, not because she feared that something might actually happen to them but because his standing there prevented Maria from firing her with questions. It was a limited reprieve, however. Liz knew that Maria would pounce at her earliest opportunity.
After they had finally brought the last of Max and Liz’s belongings inside Maria shuffled off for her room while Liz went to get Max situated in her bedroom. He emitted a low whistle when he saw it. “You’ve got a nice set up here,” he commented.
“Bought and paid for by my daddy dearest,” Liz replied with an edge of bitterness, “When I think about all the time I was here letting him buy my affection and you were struggling--,”
Max pressed his fingers to her lips, silencing her harsh tirade. “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered tenderly, “Remember? You told me that we need to forgive ourselves and move on. Let’s not dwell on the past anymore.”
Liz nibble at her lower lip in chagrin. “It’s just kinda hard sometimes.”
“Yeah, I know it,” Max agreed, turning away from her again to survey the bedroom once more, “It’s different from your room back in Roswell.” He traced his finger over her Sony Playstation. He also noted that she had a DVD player, a wide screen television, which he was willing to guess received the premium channels, and a top of the line stereo sound system. “A lot more distractions in here.”
“Well, I was trying not to think about you,” Liz confessed honestly.
Glancing back over his shoulder, Max favored her with a surprised look. “Did it work?”
“No,” Liz answered bluntly.
“Not for me either,” Max admitted, “I mean the not thinking about you part.” He sank down onto the bed; his gaze sad and resigned all at once. “I tried to put you out of my mind, but I couldn’t. I thought about you everyday, Liz.” He rubbed the back of his neck tiredly, his fatigue showing. “Hey, thanks again for letting me crash here.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Max. I’d do anything for you,” Liz replied softly. A moment of unbounded feeling passed between them, so delicate and perfect that both of them were afraid to breath for fear of breaking it. And then Liz sighed, her eyes finally dropped away from Max’s trenchant stare. “I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow morning,” she said cautiously, “Do you think you’d like to come?”
Max was surprised by her invitation and it showed. “You…you wouldn’t mind?” he asked tentatively.
“No,” Liz assured him, “I want you to come with me.”
Again the room was permeated with their unspoken connection that had sprung between them. “Then…yeah,” Max agreed breathlessly, “I will.”
Liz smiled and stepped forward to envelop him in an awkward hug, her breath hitching when he buried his face in her belly and murmured good night to their baby. And then he lifted those beautiful golden eyes of his to her face and Liz’s knees became pure jelly. She swallowed hard.
“Goodnight to you, too, Liz,” Max whispered softly.
Liz stepped from his loose embrace, her heart pounding. “Goodnight, Max,” she uttered gruffly. She drifted from the room on shaky legs, only remembering at the last minute to grab some clean pajamas for herself before trudging off to Maria’s room. Liz wasn’t at all surprised to find Maria propped up against the headboard waiting for her.
“So, Gidget, you wanna tell me what’s going on with you and Moondoggie in there?” she demanded pithily.
Liz tried not to roll her eyes but didn’t quite make it. She and Max had shared something monumentally special a moment ago and Liz had no desire to reduce it to idle gossip. “Maria, nothing is going on,” she intoned with, what she hoped was, dry exasperation, “Max and I have made our peace with each other. That’s it.”
“Sure, that’s it,” Maria replied, unconvinced, “And that’s why he was out there in the living room eating you alive with his eyes.”
“Eating me alive?” Liz guffawed as she stripped down to her underwear, “Maria, what are you smoking?”
“I know what I saw,” she insisted stubbornly.
“You didn’t see anything, but two friends being friends,” Liz countered, yanking her pajama shirt down over her head, “Don’t make more out of this than what it is, okay!”
“You wouldn’t be so testy if nothing was going on,” Maria reasoned after Liz had climbed into bed. She wasn’t graced with a response, however. Liz merely flipped onto her side and covered her head with a pillow. “Come on, Lizzie,” Maria whined, “Talk to me here.”
Liz tossed away her pillow and flopped onto her back, scowling with mild annoyance. “We’ve decided to be friends again,” she announced in exasperation, “There’s the big secret! Can I go to sleep now?”
Maria folded her arms over her chest in mute speculation. “You sound kinda irritated by that fact,” she said after a considerable pause.
“Irritated by what?” Liz huffed.
“I don’t know…maybe the fact that you and Max are just friends,” Maria ventured airily.
Liz presented Maria with her back for a second time. “I’m not irritated,” she denied briskly, “I’m just…just…”
“Irritated?” Maria provided irreverently.
She was pinned with a glacial glare for her trouble. “I’m impatient,” Liz corrected with a long-suffering sigh, “I’ve loved Max for half my life and this is the first time that’s he’s returned my feelings. I mean…he actually loves me back. I know he wants to be with me and I want to be with him so much, too--,”
“I’m sensing the but--?”
“But he’s not ready for a serious commitment,” Liz replied regretfully, “He’s really, really skittish about being in a relationship. What happened with me and Tess seriously screwed him up.”
“So the guy has two bad relationships and he completely gives up on love,” Maria scoffed, “That makes absolutely no sense.”
“It does if those two relationships are the only ones you’ve ever had,” Liz countered glumly.
“Oh,” was Maria’s only response.
Liz heaved a dejected groan. “How am I ever going to convince him that he can give himself over to love when I’m one of the women who trampled his heart in the first place?”
“You got me there, babe,” Maria replied with a shrug.
Liz leveled her with a bland expression. “Gee, thanks, Maria,” she said sarcastically, “You’re a fount of wisdom as usual.” She was surprised when, despite her churlish demeanor, Maria laid a comforting hand against her shoulder. It was enough to compel Liz to roll over and regard her friend with uncertain eyes.
“Lizzie, I saw the way he looked at you tonight,” Maria whispered, “He’s already halfway there.”
“I know,” Liz conceded softly, “It’s just I feel like I’ve been waiting for him all my life.” She raised tear-brightened eyes to Maria’s compassionate face. “I couldn’t stand it if I lost him now.”
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Deejonaise
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2002 12:48 am
- Location: On my rusty dusty...
Chapter Fifty-Four
“Are you nervous?”
A beat of silence. “No, are you?”
“Of course not.”
“Not even a little?”
“Well…maybe a little.”
“Me, too.”
Max jiggled his knee simultaneously fidgeting with the thin strap to Liz’s purse. “There’s nothing to read in here,” he complained a moment later.
Liz blew out a laughing snort of vexation and looked up from her magazine in what had to have been the sixth time in a ten-minute span. “There are plenty of magazines, Max,” she informed him, sweeping her hand out towards the many choices in reading materials, “Just pick one and have at it.”
“They’re all geared towards women,” Max whined, “I don’t need to know how to have a healthy pregnancy or how to keep my nipples from becoming sore and cracked when breastfeeding…that’s your department.” He was as bright as a tomato as he finished the last of his grumbling, obviously none too pleased about what he’d found during his innocent perusals.
“You have an entire array of different magazines here, Max,” Liz replied crisply, “There’s a Parenting magazine right over there. That’s for you, too, you know.” She tried to refocus her attention back on the interesting article she’d found about reducing the appearance of stretch marks when Max suddenly began fiddling with the edge of her magazine. “What?” Liz cried with a long-suffering sigh.
“Talk to me,” Max implored boyishly, “I’m anxious.”
It was the pout that did it. She couldn’t resist it, especially when he was batting those lush eyelashes of his in accompaniment. Liz expelled another sigh and dutifully set her magazine aside. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Well, I kinda want to know what this whole check-up is for,” Max said, mildly bewildered, “There’s nothing wrong with the baby, right?”
“No, there’s nothing wrong,” Liz assured him gently, “and I’m just here to make certain of that.” But then a pensive frown wrinkled her brow and she amended, “Actually, if you want to be technical, my appointment today is really to confirm my pregnancy and, I guess, figure out how far along I am.”
“But I thought your pregnancy had already been confirmed,” Max replied blankly.
“Not by a doctor.”
“So what are you saying?” Max wondered with an edge of dread, “That it’s possible you might NOT be pregnant.”
His fearful tone as well as his heartbroken expression elicited a sympathetic smile from Liz. “No, I’m definitely pregnant, Max.”
“How do you know for sure?” he insisted, “I mean if a doctor has to confirm it--,”
Liz attempted to keep her tone blasé despite the warming in her cheeks. “Let’s just say that, aside from the obvious lack of a period, there are other body changes that are a little difficult to ignore,” she answered vaguely.
“Like what sort of body changes?” Max pressed curiously.
“Max, come on!” Liz cried out in acute embarrassment.
“I want to know,” he persisted.
“Max, this is embarrassing,” Liz ground out, pink cheeked.
“Tell me.”
“It’s my breasts, okay!” she hissed, “They’re swollen and…and sensitive…and my nipples are always hard like when I’m on my period only I’m NOT on my period!”
“Oh.”
Having finally found an effective means of shutting him up, however, Liz felt more in the mood for a hearty laugh than a relaxing read. His expression was priceless. He looked so stunned, so speechless, so horrified that she couldn’t resist ribbing him a little. She slanted him a wry glance. “Got any more questions?”
“No, I think you’ve covered everything,” Max replied gruffly.
“You’re sure,” Liz prodded impudently, “You don’t want to know exactly what my sensitive breasts feel like.”
Several images tumbled through Max’s head and none of them innocent. Max coughed to cover over his sudden and unexpected feelings of desire. “No, I’m sure I have a pretty good idea,” he choked as he snatched up a magazine and buried his nose deep.
Liz felt her mood veer crazily. She had gone from mildly irritated to giddily amused in a matter of seconds. Being with Max did that to her. Suddenly, nothing that happened in the last three months mattered anymore. They were friends again, joking and laughing with one another as they always had. She felt relaxed for the first time in…well, she couldn’t remember and Liz from all indications thus far Max felt the same. Liz supposed that it was highly unlikely that Max had felt free to question Tess about her pregnancy so openly, that is if they’d even talked about the baby at all. Liz was felt her curiosity peak at the thought and she nudged Max lightly, deciding to ask him outright.
He looked discomfited by the question, but instead of brushing her off, as she half-expected, he haltingly answered her question with hesitant sorrow. “Mostly when Tess and I talked about the baby it was in terms of whether or not we would keep it,” he recounted sadly, “We never talked about how her pregnancy made her feel or the changes in her body or…anything… Sometimes I feel like it wasn’t even real, you know, because I don’t think I ever really felt it in here.” He tapped his fingers against his heart. “I know it sounds crazy to say.” He shook his head over the realization, as if his feelings had just suddenly dawned on him in that moment. “I don’t know…I just feel completely different about this baby. With Tess I was just resigned to the idea of being a father but this time I actually want to be a father. Does that make sense?”
Liz didn’t know how she was able to speak in that moment her throat was so clogged with tears but somehow she managed a gruff, “That makes perfect sense.” She and Max exchanged tender, tentative smiles but were halted from further conversation when the nurse called for Liz to come back. There wasn’t even a moment of uncertainty for Max. When Liz stood to leave he promptly took her hand and they followed the nurse together.
Max waited patiently throughout all the routine checks, blood pressure, weight, urine sample, his heart thudding as if he’d run a marathon. By the time the nurse took them back to the examination room to wait for the doctor Max thought for sure that he’d collapse on the spot. He was so excited he could barely stand. Max couldn’t wait until they saw the doctor and Liz’s pregnancy was officially confirmed. However, he didn’t begin to rethink his decision to accompany Liz to the examining room until the nurse cheerily indicated that Liz should undress from the waist down and then proceeded to give her some flimsy, paper-thin blanket as covering. At that point, Max couldn’t quite swallow back his groan of apprehension.
“Are you sure I should be back here with you?” he asked uneasily, whipping around at the last minute when Liz began to push her jeans and panties down past her hips.
Liz bit back her amused smile. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”
Max blushed to the roots of his hair. “I just don’t get why you have to be…you know…naked for this.” He hopped nervously from one foot to the other alternately shoving his hands into his pants pockets and removing them.
“I guess she’s going to give me a pelvic exam,” Liz considered aloud, “I suppose that’s a good thing. The last one I had was a week after I turned fifteen.”
Max suddenly remembered that day with stunning clarity. Liz had been skipping all around full of herself because she was having her first woman’s appointment at the doctor. However, when she came back home she refused to utter a single word about it other than stating that it had been the “most humiliating time of her life.” Max had known instinctively not to tease her about it. Now that he knew exactly why Liz had been so taciturn about that appointment Max felt his uneasiness bloom to outright panic. He had no idea what a pelvic exam entailed and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know either. Max started backing blindly for the door.
“I’m just gonna wait out in the lobby for you,” he said quickly. But the moment he spun around to beat a hasty retreat he collided full force with the doctor as she was coming in. “I am so sorry,” Max cried when her papers and charts went flying in all directions. He bent down to hastily retrieve the scattered forms.
Fortunately, the doctor seemed to take no offense at his clumsiness. “Gives a whole new meaning to the expression ‘knocked off your feet’ doesn’t it,” she teased irreverently. Max could only blush in response, mortified over having mowed her down and brimming with anxiety because his escape had been thwarted. The doctor extended her hand in greeting. “I’m Dr. Catherine Bedford,” she said, pumping Max’s hand firmly, “And you are?”
“Max Evans,” Max mumbled in reply.
“It’s good to meet you, Max,” she returned graciously as he passed her back her forms. She came fully into the room then, her gaze falling on Liz who was already seated on the examining table while trying very hard not to laugh. Dr. Bedford had to swallow back her own burst of laughter. “And you must be Liz,” she surmised, treating Liz to the same greeting that she’d given Max. “I suppose you both want to get down to the nitty-gritty,” she declared once the introductions had been concluded. “Come on over, Max,” she invited, coaxing him over from his station near the door. He crept over carefully, coming to stand alongside the examining table to hold Liz’s hand. This time Dr. Bedford didn’t bother to hide her smile. “Congratulations,” she said, “You’re definitely pregnant and judging from the date of your last menstrual cycle I’d say you’re about seven and a half weeks along.”
“Wow,” Max and Liz both uttered simultaneously. And then Max fired out excitedly, “When is she due?”
“December 25th.”
“You’re kidding,” Liz gasped, “I’m due on Christmas Day?”
“That’s just an approximation, Liz,” Dr. Bedford cautioned warmly, “Only about 5% of women actually have their babies on their actual due date.”
However, her words of prudence didn’t deter Max. He squeezed Liz’s hand. “She’s gonna be born on Christmas,” he whispered tremulously, “I just know it.”
“She?” Liz questioned in wonder. She zigzagged her awestruck gaze to the doctor. “Is it a girl? I mean, can you tell now?”
“It’s too soon to determine the sex of the baby just yet,” Dr. Bedford said with an indulgent smile leveled in Max’s direction, “But I guess we know what you’re both hoping for.” Max and Liz slanted one another soft, blushing smiles. “But for now,” the doctor declared, clapping together her hands and drawing the young couple’s attention once more, “We need to take care of the formalities…make sure there aren’t any genetic issues we should be concerned about. But before we do that why don’t we have a listen to your baby’s heartbeat?”
Max and Liz were still reeling at the idea they could actually listen to their child’s heartbeat when the first whirring sounds filled the tiny room. Max jumped at the low whooshing, leveling the doctor with eyes rounded in awe. “Is…is that it?” he asked, his words thick with emotion, “Is that our baby?” He couldn’t believe he was actually listening to the sound of his baby’s heartbeat while she was still tucked away safely inside Liz’s body. Max rapidly blinked back the sudden hot tears of emotion that sprung to his eyes.
Dr. Bedford nodded, smiling a little as she glided the monitor over Liz’s gel slick belly. Liz, too, stared at the doctor in speechless amazement, her heart seeming to thunder in time with her child’s. In that second her pregnancy became astoundingly real to her. There was actually a baby inside her, being nurtured by her body, growing stronger every single day. Liz felt humbled by the realization. Her mothering instincts seemed to kick into high gear, filling her with a fierce maternal need to protect her child. Which was exactly the reason she began to feel burgeoning concern over her baby’s seemingly rapid heartbeat. “It’s not too fast, is it?” she rushed out fretfully.
“No, it’s perfectly normal,” Dr. Bedford assured her, “Sounds very strong, very healthy.” She clicked off the heart monitor and crossed the room to pluck up a tissue for Liz to wipe her belly. “Now how about we go over both your medical histories?” she suggested.
They spent the next twenty minutes going over both Liz and Max’s medical history. The more questions Dr. Bedford asked the more Max and Liz realized just how ignorant they were. Neither of them had considered that their medical history and their family’s medical history might affect their baby in some adverse way.
After Dr. Bedford had secured all the needed information she quickly performed Liz’s pelvic exam. Fortunately for Max, Liz took pity on him and excused him from the room right before the exam began. She did it as much for her own sake as she did it for his. Her opinion of the pap smear hadn’t changed much in the previous year. When she was done Dr. Bedford warned Liz that she might experience some bleeding and discomfort but not to be alarmed unless the blood was bright red and continued on until the next day. She then set up the time for a follow-up appointment and left Liz to get dressed in privacy. The moment the doctor left Max hurried back into the room.
“What happened?” he demanded fretfully.
“She said I should come back in a month,” Liz told him as she resnapped her jeans.
“Why?” Max burst out, “Was something wrong with the baby? Is that why she wants to see you again?”
“No, Max, it’s perfectly routine,” Liz explained calmly, “She said I’ll need to come for a prenatal check-up every month until I’m 30 weeks along and then I should come every two weeks and then once I’m 36 weeks I should come every week.”
“Whoa, whoa,” Max cried, shaking his head in confusion, “What’s with all the weeks?”
Liz laughed softly. “Apparently, a pregnancy is tracked by weeks not months,” she told him wryly, “A full term pregnancy consists of 40 weeks.”
“40 weeks,” Max echoed in awe, “Wow…we’ve got a long way to go, huh?”
“Looks like,” Liz agreed quietly. They shared a look of tender wonderment. “So what do you want to do know?” she asked.
“Lunch,” Max suggested spontaneously, his face wreathed in a 1000-watt grin of joy, “We should go to lunch. I feel like celebrating!”
“Are you nervous?”
A beat of silence. “No, are you?”
“Of course not.”
“Not even a little?”
“Well…maybe a little.”
“Me, too.”
Max jiggled his knee simultaneously fidgeting with the thin strap to Liz’s purse. “There’s nothing to read in here,” he complained a moment later.
Liz blew out a laughing snort of vexation and looked up from her magazine in what had to have been the sixth time in a ten-minute span. “There are plenty of magazines, Max,” she informed him, sweeping her hand out towards the many choices in reading materials, “Just pick one and have at it.”
“They’re all geared towards women,” Max whined, “I don’t need to know how to have a healthy pregnancy or how to keep my nipples from becoming sore and cracked when breastfeeding…that’s your department.” He was as bright as a tomato as he finished the last of his grumbling, obviously none too pleased about what he’d found during his innocent perusals.
“You have an entire array of different magazines here, Max,” Liz replied crisply, “There’s a Parenting magazine right over there. That’s for you, too, you know.” She tried to refocus her attention back on the interesting article she’d found about reducing the appearance of stretch marks when Max suddenly began fiddling with the edge of her magazine. “What?” Liz cried with a long-suffering sigh.
“Talk to me,” Max implored boyishly, “I’m anxious.”
It was the pout that did it. She couldn’t resist it, especially when he was batting those lush eyelashes of his in accompaniment. Liz expelled another sigh and dutifully set her magazine aside. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Well, I kinda want to know what this whole check-up is for,” Max said, mildly bewildered, “There’s nothing wrong with the baby, right?”
“No, there’s nothing wrong,” Liz assured him gently, “and I’m just here to make certain of that.” But then a pensive frown wrinkled her brow and she amended, “Actually, if you want to be technical, my appointment today is really to confirm my pregnancy and, I guess, figure out how far along I am.”
“But I thought your pregnancy had already been confirmed,” Max replied blankly.
“Not by a doctor.”
“So what are you saying?” Max wondered with an edge of dread, “That it’s possible you might NOT be pregnant.”
His fearful tone as well as his heartbroken expression elicited a sympathetic smile from Liz. “No, I’m definitely pregnant, Max.”
“How do you know for sure?” he insisted, “I mean if a doctor has to confirm it--,”
Liz attempted to keep her tone blasé despite the warming in her cheeks. “Let’s just say that, aside from the obvious lack of a period, there are other body changes that are a little difficult to ignore,” she answered vaguely.
“Like what sort of body changes?” Max pressed curiously.
“Max, come on!” Liz cried out in acute embarrassment.
“I want to know,” he persisted.
“Max, this is embarrassing,” Liz ground out, pink cheeked.
“Tell me.”
“It’s my breasts, okay!” she hissed, “They’re swollen and…and sensitive…and my nipples are always hard like when I’m on my period only I’m NOT on my period!”
“Oh.”
Having finally found an effective means of shutting him up, however, Liz felt more in the mood for a hearty laugh than a relaxing read. His expression was priceless. He looked so stunned, so speechless, so horrified that she couldn’t resist ribbing him a little. She slanted him a wry glance. “Got any more questions?”
“No, I think you’ve covered everything,” Max replied gruffly.
“You’re sure,” Liz prodded impudently, “You don’t want to know exactly what my sensitive breasts feel like.”
Several images tumbled through Max’s head and none of them innocent. Max coughed to cover over his sudden and unexpected feelings of desire. “No, I’m sure I have a pretty good idea,” he choked as he snatched up a magazine and buried his nose deep.
Liz felt her mood veer crazily. She had gone from mildly irritated to giddily amused in a matter of seconds. Being with Max did that to her. Suddenly, nothing that happened in the last three months mattered anymore. They were friends again, joking and laughing with one another as they always had. She felt relaxed for the first time in…well, she couldn’t remember and Liz from all indications thus far Max felt the same. Liz supposed that it was highly unlikely that Max had felt free to question Tess about her pregnancy so openly, that is if they’d even talked about the baby at all. Liz was felt her curiosity peak at the thought and she nudged Max lightly, deciding to ask him outright.
He looked discomfited by the question, but instead of brushing her off, as she half-expected, he haltingly answered her question with hesitant sorrow. “Mostly when Tess and I talked about the baby it was in terms of whether or not we would keep it,” he recounted sadly, “We never talked about how her pregnancy made her feel or the changes in her body or…anything… Sometimes I feel like it wasn’t even real, you know, because I don’t think I ever really felt it in here.” He tapped his fingers against his heart. “I know it sounds crazy to say.” He shook his head over the realization, as if his feelings had just suddenly dawned on him in that moment. “I don’t know…I just feel completely different about this baby. With Tess I was just resigned to the idea of being a father but this time I actually want to be a father. Does that make sense?”
Liz didn’t know how she was able to speak in that moment her throat was so clogged with tears but somehow she managed a gruff, “That makes perfect sense.” She and Max exchanged tender, tentative smiles but were halted from further conversation when the nurse called for Liz to come back. There wasn’t even a moment of uncertainty for Max. When Liz stood to leave he promptly took her hand and they followed the nurse together.
Max waited patiently throughout all the routine checks, blood pressure, weight, urine sample, his heart thudding as if he’d run a marathon. By the time the nurse took them back to the examination room to wait for the doctor Max thought for sure that he’d collapse on the spot. He was so excited he could barely stand. Max couldn’t wait until they saw the doctor and Liz’s pregnancy was officially confirmed. However, he didn’t begin to rethink his decision to accompany Liz to the examining room until the nurse cheerily indicated that Liz should undress from the waist down and then proceeded to give her some flimsy, paper-thin blanket as covering. At that point, Max couldn’t quite swallow back his groan of apprehension.
“Are you sure I should be back here with you?” he asked uneasily, whipping around at the last minute when Liz began to push her jeans and panties down past her hips.
Liz bit back her amused smile. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”
Max blushed to the roots of his hair. “I just don’t get why you have to be…you know…naked for this.” He hopped nervously from one foot to the other alternately shoving his hands into his pants pockets and removing them.
“I guess she’s going to give me a pelvic exam,” Liz considered aloud, “I suppose that’s a good thing. The last one I had was a week after I turned fifteen.”
Max suddenly remembered that day with stunning clarity. Liz had been skipping all around full of herself because she was having her first woman’s appointment at the doctor. However, when she came back home she refused to utter a single word about it other than stating that it had been the “most humiliating time of her life.” Max had known instinctively not to tease her about it. Now that he knew exactly why Liz had been so taciturn about that appointment Max felt his uneasiness bloom to outright panic. He had no idea what a pelvic exam entailed and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know either. Max started backing blindly for the door.
“I’m just gonna wait out in the lobby for you,” he said quickly. But the moment he spun around to beat a hasty retreat he collided full force with the doctor as she was coming in. “I am so sorry,” Max cried when her papers and charts went flying in all directions. He bent down to hastily retrieve the scattered forms.
Fortunately, the doctor seemed to take no offense at his clumsiness. “Gives a whole new meaning to the expression ‘knocked off your feet’ doesn’t it,” she teased irreverently. Max could only blush in response, mortified over having mowed her down and brimming with anxiety because his escape had been thwarted. The doctor extended her hand in greeting. “I’m Dr. Catherine Bedford,” she said, pumping Max’s hand firmly, “And you are?”
“Max Evans,” Max mumbled in reply.
“It’s good to meet you, Max,” she returned graciously as he passed her back her forms. She came fully into the room then, her gaze falling on Liz who was already seated on the examining table while trying very hard not to laugh. Dr. Bedford had to swallow back her own burst of laughter. “And you must be Liz,” she surmised, treating Liz to the same greeting that she’d given Max. “I suppose you both want to get down to the nitty-gritty,” she declared once the introductions had been concluded. “Come on over, Max,” she invited, coaxing him over from his station near the door. He crept over carefully, coming to stand alongside the examining table to hold Liz’s hand. This time Dr. Bedford didn’t bother to hide her smile. “Congratulations,” she said, “You’re definitely pregnant and judging from the date of your last menstrual cycle I’d say you’re about seven and a half weeks along.”
“Wow,” Max and Liz both uttered simultaneously. And then Max fired out excitedly, “When is she due?”
“December 25th.”
“You’re kidding,” Liz gasped, “I’m due on Christmas Day?”
“That’s just an approximation, Liz,” Dr. Bedford cautioned warmly, “Only about 5% of women actually have their babies on their actual due date.”
However, her words of prudence didn’t deter Max. He squeezed Liz’s hand. “She’s gonna be born on Christmas,” he whispered tremulously, “I just know it.”
“She?” Liz questioned in wonder. She zigzagged her awestruck gaze to the doctor. “Is it a girl? I mean, can you tell now?”
“It’s too soon to determine the sex of the baby just yet,” Dr. Bedford said with an indulgent smile leveled in Max’s direction, “But I guess we know what you’re both hoping for.” Max and Liz slanted one another soft, blushing smiles. “But for now,” the doctor declared, clapping together her hands and drawing the young couple’s attention once more, “We need to take care of the formalities…make sure there aren’t any genetic issues we should be concerned about. But before we do that why don’t we have a listen to your baby’s heartbeat?”
Max and Liz were still reeling at the idea they could actually listen to their child’s heartbeat when the first whirring sounds filled the tiny room. Max jumped at the low whooshing, leveling the doctor with eyes rounded in awe. “Is…is that it?” he asked, his words thick with emotion, “Is that our baby?” He couldn’t believe he was actually listening to the sound of his baby’s heartbeat while she was still tucked away safely inside Liz’s body. Max rapidly blinked back the sudden hot tears of emotion that sprung to his eyes.
Dr. Bedford nodded, smiling a little as she glided the monitor over Liz’s gel slick belly. Liz, too, stared at the doctor in speechless amazement, her heart seeming to thunder in time with her child’s. In that second her pregnancy became astoundingly real to her. There was actually a baby inside her, being nurtured by her body, growing stronger every single day. Liz felt humbled by the realization. Her mothering instincts seemed to kick into high gear, filling her with a fierce maternal need to protect her child. Which was exactly the reason she began to feel burgeoning concern over her baby’s seemingly rapid heartbeat. “It’s not too fast, is it?” she rushed out fretfully.
“No, it’s perfectly normal,” Dr. Bedford assured her, “Sounds very strong, very healthy.” She clicked off the heart monitor and crossed the room to pluck up a tissue for Liz to wipe her belly. “Now how about we go over both your medical histories?” she suggested.
They spent the next twenty minutes going over both Liz and Max’s medical history. The more questions Dr. Bedford asked the more Max and Liz realized just how ignorant they were. Neither of them had considered that their medical history and their family’s medical history might affect their baby in some adverse way.
After Dr. Bedford had secured all the needed information she quickly performed Liz’s pelvic exam. Fortunately for Max, Liz took pity on him and excused him from the room right before the exam began. She did it as much for her own sake as she did it for his. Her opinion of the pap smear hadn’t changed much in the previous year. When she was done Dr. Bedford warned Liz that she might experience some bleeding and discomfort but not to be alarmed unless the blood was bright red and continued on until the next day. She then set up the time for a follow-up appointment and left Liz to get dressed in privacy. The moment the doctor left Max hurried back into the room.
“What happened?” he demanded fretfully.
“She said I should come back in a month,” Liz told him as she resnapped her jeans.
“Why?” Max burst out, “Was something wrong with the baby? Is that why she wants to see you again?”
“No, Max, it’s perfectly routine,” Liz explained calmly, “She said I’ll need to come for a prenatal check-up every month until I’m 30 weeks along and then I should come every two weeks and then once I’m 36 weeks I should come every week.”
“Whoa, whoa,” Max cried, shaking his head in confusion, “What’s with all the weeks?”
Liz laughed softly. “Apparently, a pregnancy is tracked by weeks not months,” she told him wryly, “A full term pregnancy consists of 40 weeks.”
“40 weeks,” Max echoed in awe, “Wow…we’ve got a long way to go, huh?”
“Looks like,” Liz agreed quietly. They shared a look of tender wonderment. “So what do you want to do know?” she asked.
“Lunch,” Max suggested spontaneously, his face wreathed in a 1000-watt grin of joy, “We should go to lunch. I feel like celebrating!”
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Deejonaise
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2002 12:48 am
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Chapter Fifty-Five
“You serve milk here, right?” Max asked the server when she approached their table.
Liz knew automatically that Max wasn’t asking for his benefit. “Max, I don’t like milk,” she protested before the waitress could even answer.
“It’s good for you,” Max insisted, “See? I have a pamphlet. I picked it up while we were at the doctor’s.” He held up the little booklet with a beaming smile of pride. “Milk is good for the baby, too,” he concluded sagely.
Liz almost snorted with laughter. Two hours of research and already he was talking as if he were an expert in the field. “I have a prescription for prenatal vitamins,” she argued obstinately, “Isn’t that enough?” His superior look clearly said it was not. Liz felt an affectionate smile tug at the corner of her lips. She was secretly pleased to have Max fussing over her despite her outward grumbling. Liz thought it was incredibly sweet. “Okay,” she drawled gamely, “if I have to drink milk then so do you.” She well knew that he wasn’t any fonder of milk than she was.
“But…but I’m not pregnant,” Max stammered in protest, “I don’t need the vitamins.”
“But you are skinny as a toothpick,” Liz countered, “and milk is just what you need to fatten you up!” Max’s answer to her assessment was a good-natured complaining under his breath. Liz smiled up at the waitress. “We’ll start off with two glasses of milk, please.” They were both so lost in grinning at one another afterward that they paid no attention as their server rolled her eyes over their silliness and ambled off. “I can’t believe this day,” Liz sighed wistfully.
“Did we actually just hear our baby’s heartbeat?” Max asked in wonderment.
“There’s no pretending now,” Liz breathed, “She’s really in there.” Liz pressed her hands flat against her stomach. “She’s really real.”
“Don’t you think we should come up with a name for her?”
Liz giggled. “Max, we don’t even know for sure if she is a she!” Liz collapsed back in her chair with a sigh. “I just know that’s what I’m hoping for,” she whispered.
“I think we should name her Noelle,” he suggested quietly, “You know…since she’ll be born on Christmas and everything.” A shaky smile lifted the corners of Liz’s mouth and she felt ridiculously close to tears at his idea. Abruptly, however, the joyful smile faded from Max’s features to be replaced with a somber frown. “Do we really want to bring her up in a broken home, Liz?” he asked suddenly, softly. Liz was startled by the question, obviously blindsided. She sat there for several moments working her mouth but unable to produce a response. Max took advantage of her inability to do so and pressed on to his point. “Doesn’t our baby deserve to be raised by both her parents?”
“Max,” Liz croaked, finally finding her voice, “We both will raise her, okay.”
“I don’t want to be just a part-time dad,” Max replied.
Liz opened her mouth to respond and then quickly snapped it closed when she caught sight of their waitress in her peripheral vision. Once she and Max had placed their orders and achieved some semblance of privacy once again Liz took up the argument where they had left off. “Max, you won’t have to be a part-time dad,” Liz promised, “You know I’ll let you see the baby whenever you want.”
“It’s not the same as being there all the time,” Max countered obdurately.
Liz sensed he was leaving something unsaid. “What are you asking me, Max?”
“Why are we allowing this divorce to go through?” he demanded directly.
Again Liz found herself stunned into silence. “M-Max, come on,” she finally stuttered out, “We can’t stay married just for the sake of the baby.”
“Why not?” Max replied obstinately, “People do that sort of thing all the time.”
“And those marriages never work out,” Liz concluded softly, “I don’t think we should be married unless both of us are really ready. I think deep down you feel that way, too.”
His eyes sparkled with tears at her gentle rebuke before he finally hung his head in unenthusiastic agreement. “I know you’re right, Liz,” he murmured hoarsely, “It’s just…when I heard her heartbeat today…I just wanted us to be a family… I want to be with her all the time.”
Liz reached across the table and grasped his hand tightly. “Max, we are a family,” she said firmly, “Getting divorced is not going to change that…I promise you.”
“It’s a little weird I guess,” Max mused, still clinging lightly to Liz’s fingers as he allowed his thumb to drift in lazy strokes across her palm, “Already we’ve been married, divorced and now we’re expecting a kid and neither of us is out of our teens yet.” He made the comment without lingering bitterness only with an incredible remorse.
The awful reality of their situation settled onto Liz’s shoulders like a leaden weight. “What were our parents thinking?” Liz wondered sadly.
“I wish I knew,” Max muttered.
“Have you ever asked?” Liz ventured carefully. She knew she had wanted to several times herself but had been too afraid of the response. Liz wondered if Max felt the same.
She was surprised and grateful when he didn’t shut down automatically at the question. It was quite evident that he wanted to. He started to pull his hand away from her but when she tightened her grip, refusing to let go, he stopped fighting her.
Max stared down at the tabletop, his jaw like granite. “Honestly, I try not to think about them at all,” he intoned bitterly.
However, Liz could easily see past his embittered words to the anguish he endeavored to mask. Beneath all Max’s rage and hatred was a terribly wounded heart. His parents’ abandonment had scarred him so deeply, so irrevocably that Max’s couldn’t even admit the extent of the damage to himself. Liz’s heart ached for him.
“They hurt you really bad, didn’t they?” she asked him solemnly.
“No worse than your parents hurt you.”
“Max, come on,” Liz implored, her eyes pleading with him not to hide behind some lame attempt at bravado, “You can tell me how you really feel.”
“How I really feel?” Max echoed, lurching back in his seat with a scoffing laugh, “I don’t know how that is! Some days I hate them so much I can’t even breathe and others…I wonder what was so horrible about me that they would just cut me out of their lives that way.” Max sniffled, quickly whisking away the tears that fell down his cheeks. “My dad…I could half understand why he would cuz I don’t think he ever liked me. I mean…I’m his son but I never had the impression that he really gave a damn about me. But my mom… I always knew when things got rough she’d be there for me and then, after everything went down with you, it was like she had decided to just wash her hands of me or something…like I disgusted her.” Once again he fixated his gaze on the table but this time Liz knew it was in an attempt to hide his falling tears.
“Max, we don’t have to talk about this now,” Liz whispered, feeling expressly guilty for pushing him in the first place.
“No, you wanted to know,” he insisted hoarsely. He lifted his injured gaze to her guilt-ridden one. “I do wonder why our parents pushed for us to get married when it was obvious everyone thought I would fuck it up from the start.”
“Max, that’s not true,” Liz protested lamely.
“Don’t patronize me!” he retorted in a hiss, “No one was threatening you with disownment until that day in your father’s study. I had to hear that speech everyday from the moment I learned that you and I were married!” His hurt tone gradually took on an angry pitch filled with self-loathing. “And you know what, Liz?” he fired out harshly, “They were right…they were right about me. I was too blind with loyalty for a girl who would ultimately put a bullet in my chest that I couldn’t see what I was doing to us. You were scared and alone and forced into a horrible situation and I couldn’t even see how it was killing you. I deserved to lose everything for being so stupid!”
“Max, you can’t believe this,” Liz gasped out in horror.
“I do believe it,” he replied tersely. He drew himself back then, his expression becoming remote and stony. “Suddenly, I’m not hungry anymore,” he announced flatly.
Liz only realized his intention to leave when he pushed away from the table and stood. “Max, don’t do this,” she pleaded in a whisper, “We had such a good day…”
There was a near undetectable softening to his expression. “I don’t mean to bring you down, Liz,” he sighed, “I don’t want to do that.”
“Then sit down and have lunch with me,” she beseeched, taking hold of his hand and giving it a gentle tug. But it was fairly evident her effort to coax him back was in vain. Max had already retreated inside himself.
“I just need some time to myself,” he mumbled in excuse, “I’ll find a way back, okay.” After leaving enough money to cover the entire bill and the tip he left the café.
Liz sat there for a moment, debating over whether or not she should let him go and then, at the last moment, sprang from her chair and charged after him. He was nearly a block away before she caught up with him. Liz grabbed his forearm and yanked him around to face her. “No, it doesn’t work like that, Max Evans!” she spat fiercely, “You can’t just walk away from me when the conversation gets too intense!”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Why are you acting like you’re the only one in the world who’s had a shitty road?”
“What the hell do you want me to do, Liz!” he cried.
“I want you to talk to me like you used to, dammit! I want us to be friends again!”
“I told you I can’t be what you want!”
“That’s a fucking lie!” Liz yelled in retort, “You’re being a coward and it’s not fair to me or to the baby! So you messed up when we were married…so did I! But that’s over, Max! You’re feeling sorry for yourself because you didn’t appreciate me then…well, why the hell don’t you try appreciating me now?”
Max gaped at her. It struck him that he and Liz were standing in the middle of a busy crosswalk having a screaming match almost at the very same time that he realized the absolute wisdom of Liz’s words. She was right. He was being a coward, hiding behind his hurt and betrayal because that was easier than actually dealing with it. And then the truth finally hit Max full force. He was tired of being miserable. In fact, he hated it! So he’d had it hard, so had Liz and still she kept smiling. Max realized that he wanted to smile, too. The disappointment and disillusionment he’d suffered in the last month still hurt terribly, but he didn’t want to dwell on it a second longer, not when a brighter future waited for him.
Staring down into Liz’s irate face, Max felt his scowl give way to a wavering grin of affection and pride. “Are you finished screaming at me now?” he teased softly.
Once Liz recognized that Max was no longer angry her own irritation drained away. “I have to scream at you,” she joked shakily, “It’s the only way I can get anything to penetrate that thick head of yours.”
Max pulled her into his arms; hugging her tight despite the mild discomfort it caused him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair, “Forgive me?”
“Only if you forgive me for the horrible things I said to you,” Liz replied, feeling the delayed mortification over the spectacle she’d just made. She buried her heated face into his shoulder. “Did we just have a fight right here on the sidewalk?” she moaned, horrified by the thought.
Max laughed against her temple, his breath sweeping across her skin in a way that caused delightful shivers to quiver down her spine. “Complete with colorful language and all,” he clarified, “You definitely made your point that’s for sure.”
“I did,” Liz queried, tipping back her head, “And what was that exactly?”
“That I should stop feeling sorry for myself.”
“Oh, riiiiight,” Liz said with a rueful grin, “I just remember ranting furiously. I didn’t realize that any of what I said actually made sense.”
“Be serious,” Max scolded softly, “You were right and I needed that. I needed someone who would give it to me straight and not tiptoe around.”
“I’ve always given it to you straight, Max,” Liz reminded him quietly.
“Yeah…I know,” he sighed, “I just forgot for a little while.” He looped his arm over her shoulder and they began trudging back in the general direction of her car. “So now that we’ve probably earned the hatred of every server in that café with our histrionics what do you propose we do about lunch, Parker?” Max drawled.
“Why don’t we go for pizza this time,” Liz recommended flippantly, “We can go home and order in…there’s less opportunity for drama that way.” Max found himself laughing all the way to the car and it felt damned good.
“You serve milk here, right?” Max asked the server when she approached their table.
Liz knew automatically that Max wasn’t asking for his benefit. “Max, I don’t like milk,” she protested before the waitress could even answer.
“It’s good for you,” Max insisted, “See? I have a pamphlet. I picked it up while we were at the doctor’s.” He held up the little booklet with a beaming smile of pride. “Milk is good for the baby, too,” he concluded sagely.
Liz almost snorted with laughter. Two hours of research and already he was talking as if he were an expert in the field. “I have a prescription for prenatal vitamins,” she argued obstinately, “Isn’t that enough?” His superior look clearly said it was not. Liz felt an affectionate smile tug at the corner of her lips. She was secretly pleased to have Max fussing over her despite her outward grumbling. Liz thought it was incredibly sweet. “Okay,” she drawled gamely, “if I have to drink milk then so do you.” She well knew that he wasn’t any fonder of milk than she was.
“But…but I’m not pregnant,” Max stammered in protest, “I don’t need the vitamins.”
“But you are skinny as a toothpick,” Liz countered, “and milk is just what you need to fatten you up!” Max’s answer to her assessment was a good-natured complaining under his breath. Liz smiled up at the waitress. “We’ll start off with two glasses of milk, please.” They were both so lost in grinning at one another afterward that they paid no attention as their server rolled her eyes over their silliness and ambled off. “I can’t believe this day,” Liz sighed wistfully.
“Did we actually just hear our baby’s heartbeat?” Max asked in wonderment.
“There’s no pretending now,” Liz breathed, “She’s really in there.” Liz pressed her hands flat against her stomach. “She’s really real.”
“Don’t you think we should come up with a name for her?”
Liz giggled. “Max, we don’t even know for sure if she is a she!” Liz collapsed back in her chair with a sigh. “I just know that’s what I’m hoping for,” she whispered.
“I think we should name her Noelle,” he suggested quietly, “You know…since she’ll be born on Christmas and everything.” A shaky smile lifted the corners of Liz’s mouth and she felt ridiculously close to tears at his idea. Abruptly, however, the joyful smile faded from Max’s features to be replaced with a somber frown. “Do we really want to bring her up in a broken home, Liz?” he asked suddenly, softly. Liz was startled by the question, obviously blindsided. She sat there for several moments working her mouth but unable to produce a response. Max took advantage of her inability to do so and pressed on to his point. “Doesn’t our baby deserve to be raised by both her parents?”
“Max,” Liz croaked, finally finding her voice, “We both will raise her, okay.”
“I don’t want to be just a part-time dad,” Max replied.
Liz opened her mouth to respond and then quickly snapped it closed when she caught sight of their waitress in her peripheral vision. Once she and Max had placed their orders and achieved some semblance of privacy once again Liz took up the argument where they had left off. “Max, you won’t have to be a part-time dad,” Liz promised, “You know I’ll let you see the baby whenever you want.”
“It’s not the same as being there all the time,” Max countered obdurately.
Liz sensed he was leaving something unsaid. “What are you asking me, Max?”
“Why are we allowing this divorce to go through?” he demanded directly.
Again Liz found herself stunned into silence. “M-Max, come on,” she finally stuttered out, “We can’t stay married just for the sake of the baby.”
“Why not?” Max replied obstinately, “People do that sort of thing all the time.”
“And those marriages never work out,” Liz concluded softly, “I don’t think we should be married unless both of us are really ready. I think deep down you feel that way, too.”
His eyes sparkled with tears at her gentle rebuke before he finally hung his head in unenthusiastic agreement. “I know you’re right, Liz,” he murmured hoarsely, “It’s just…when I heard her heartbeat today…I just wanted us to be a family… I want to be with her all the time.”
Liz reached across the table and grasped his hand tightly. “Max, we are a family,” she said firmly, “Getting divorced is not going to change that…I promise you.”
“It’s a little weird I guess,” Max mused, still clinging lightly to Liz’s fingers as he allowed his thumb to drift in lazy strokes across her palm, “Already we’ve been married, divorced and now we’re expecting a kid and neither of us is out of our teens yet.” He made the comment without lingering bitterness only with an incredible remorse.
The awful reality of their situation settled onto Liz’s shoulders like a leaden weight. “What were our parents thinking?” Liz wondered sadly.
“I wish I knew,” Max muttered.
“Have you ever asked?” Liz ventured carefully. She knew she had wanted to several times herself but had been too afraid of the response. Liz wondered if Max felt the same.
She was surprised and grateful when he didn’t shut down automatically at the question. It was quite evident that he wanted to. He started to pull his hand away from her but when she tightened her grip, refusing to let go, he stopped fighting her.
Max stared down at the tabletop, his jaw like granite. “Honestly, I try not to think about them at all,” he intoned bitterly.
However, Liz could easily see past his embittered words to the anguish he endeavored to mask. Beneath all Max’s rage and hatred was a terribly wounded heart. His parents’ abandonment had scarred him so deeply, so irrevocably that Max’s couldn’t even admit the extent of the damage to himself. Liz’s heart ached for him.
“They hurt you really bad, didn’t they?” she asked him solemnly.
“No worse than your parents hurt you.”
“Max, come on,” Liz implored, her eyes pleading with him not to hide behind some lame attempt at bravado, “You can tell me how you really feel.”
“How I really feel?” Max echoed, lurching back in his seat with a scoffing laugh, “I don’t know how that is! Some days I hate them so much I can’t even breathe and others…I wonder what was so horrible about me that they would just cut me out of their lives that way.” Max sniffled, quickly whisking away the tears that fell down his cheeks. “My dad…I could half understand why he would cuz I don’t think he ever liked me. I mean…I’m his son but I never had the impression that he really gave a damn about me. But my mom… I always knew when things got rough she’d be there for me and then, after everything went down with you, it was like she had decided to just wash her hands of me or something…like I disgusted her.” Once again he fixated his gaze on the table but this time Liz knew it was in an attempt to hide his falling tears.
“Max, we don’t have to talk about this now,” Liz whispered, feeling expressly guilty for pushing him in the first place.
“No, you wanted to know,” he insisted hoarsely. He lifted his injured gaze to her guilt-ridden one. “I do wonder why our parents pushed for us to get married when it was obvious everyone thought I would fuck it up from the start.”
“Max, that’s not true,” Liz protested lamely.
“Don’t patronize me!” he retorted in a hiss, “No one was threatening you with disownment until that day in your father’s study. I had to hear that speech everyday from the moment I learned that you and I were married!” His hurt tone gradually took on an angry pitch filled with self-loathing. “And you know what, Liz?” he fired out harshly, “They were right…they were right about me. I was too blind with loyalty for a girl who would ultimately put a bullet in my chest that I couldn’t see what I was doing to us. You were scared and alone and forced into a horrible situation and I couldn’t even see how it was killing you. I deserved to lose everything for being so stupid!”
“Max, you can’t believe this,” Liz gasped out in horror.
“I do believe it,” he replied tersely. He drew himself back then, his expression becoming remote and stony. “Suddenly, I’m not hungry anymore,” he announced flatly.
Liz only realized his intention to leave when he pushed away from the table and stood. “Max, don’t do this,” she pleaded in a whisper, “We had such a good day…”
There was a near undetectable softening to his expression. “I don’t mean to bring you down, Liz,” he sighed, “I don’t want to do that.”
“Then sit down and have lunch with me,” she beseeched, taking hold of his hand and giving it a gentle tug. But it was fairly evident her effort to coax him back was in vain. Max had already retreated inside himself.
“I just need some time to myself,” he mumbled in excuse, “I’ll find a way back, okay.” After leaving enough money to cover the entire bill and the tip he left the café.
Liz sat there for a moment, debating over whether or not she should let him go and then, at the last moment, sprang from her chair and charged after him. He was nearly a block away before she caught up with him. Liz grabbed his forearm and yanked him around to face her. “No, it doesn’t work like that, Max Evans!” she spat fiercely, “You can’t just walk away from me when the conversation gets too intense!”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Why are you acting like you’re the only one in the world who’s had a shitty road?”
“What the hell do you want me to do, Liz!” he cried.
“I want you to talk to me like you used to, dammit! I want us to be friends again!”
“I told you I can’t be what you want!”
“That’s a fucking lie!” Liz yelled in retort, “You’re being a coward and it’s not fair to me or to the baby! So you messed up when we were married…so did I! But that’s over, Max! You’re feeling sorry for yourself because you didn’t appreciate me then…well, why the hell don’t you try appreciating me now?”
Max gaped at her. It struck him that he and Liz were standing in the middle of a busy crosswalk having a screaming match almost at the very same time that he realized the absolute wisdom of Liz’s words. She was right. He was being a coward, hiding behind his hurt and betrayal because that was easier than actually dealing with it. And then the truth finally hit Max full force. He was tired of being miserable. In fact, he hated it! So he’d had it hard, so had Liz and still she kept smiling. Max realized that he wanted to smile, too. The disappointment and disillusionment he’d suffered in the last month still hurt terribly, but he didn’t want to dwell on it a second longer, not when a brighter future waited for him.
Staring down into Liz’s irate face, Max felt his scowl give way to a wavering grin of affection and pride. “Are you finished screaming at me now?” he teased softly.
Once Liz recognized that Max was no longer angry her own irritation drained away. “I have to scream at you,” she joked shakily, “It’s the only way I can get anything to penetrate that thick head of yours.”
Max pulled her into his arms; hugging her tight despite the mild discomfort it caused him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair, “Forgive me?”
“Only if you forgive me for the horrible things I said to you,” Liz replied, feeling the delayed mortification over the spectacle she’d just made. She buried her heated face into his shoulder. “Did we just have a fight right here on the sidewalk?” she moaned, horrified by the thought.
Max laughed against her temple, his breath sweeping across her skin in a way that caused delightful shivers to quiver down her spine. “Complete with colorful language and all,” he clarified, “You definitely made your point that’s for sure.”
“I did,” Liz queried, tipping back her head, “And what was that exactly?”
“That I should stop feeling sorry for myself.”
“Oh, riiiiight,” Liz said with a rueful grin, “I just remember ranting furiously. I didn’t realize that any of what I said actually made sense.”
“Be serious,” Max scolded softly, “You were right and I needed that. I needed someone who would give it to me straight and not tiptoe around.”
“I’ve always given it to you straight, Max,” Liz reminded him quietly.
“Yeah…I know,” he sighed, “I just forgot for a little while.” He looped his arm over her shoulder and they began trudging back in the general direction of her car. “So now that we’ve probably earned the hatred of every server in that café with our histrionics what do you propose we do about lunch, Parker?” Max drawled.
“Why don’t we go for pizza this time,” Liz recommended flippantly, “We can go home and order in…there’s less opportunity for drama that way.” Max found himself laughing all the way to the car and it felt damned good.
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Deejonaise
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2002 12:48 am
- Location: On my rusty dusty...
Chapter Fifty-Six
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Liz asked Max for the ninth time as she gathered together her schoolbooks. She flopped down onto the bed next to him. “I can take another day off if you need me,” she offered.
“Liz,” Max began patiently, “I’m not on my deathbed here. You’ve already got three days of make-up work to do as it is. I don’t want you missing more school on my account.”
“Max, you’re still recovering,” Liz protested.
“I feel much better,” Max countered firmly, “My incisions are healing and I’m not nearly in as much pain as before. My painkillers are so strong I’m not even completely sure I’m talking to you right now. I’ll be fine.”
Neither of them spoke of the real issue. Today was Tessa Harding’s funeral. Max didn’t want to talk about it. Liz didn’t want to talk about it. Yet neither of them could think of anything else. Of all the emotional confrontations they’d had in the last few days Tess Harding was one subject they hadn’t even attempted to broach. Liz couldn’t quite stamp down the diffidence she felt over that fact either. Even in death Tess continued to plague them, continued to build a wall of silence between them.
Liz didn’t want to push the issue. Max had to be ready to talk about Tess, had to be ready to confront the nightmares that caused him to cry out at night. There would be no forcing him to that point. And even now, as she looked into his hooded gaze knowing the silent agony he was in, Liz forced herself not to pressure him to talk.
She patted his hand gently. “I’m just gonna grab my books and get going,” she told him, “You’re right…I’ve got a ton of make-up work to do.” Max nodded but remained quiet even though it was quite evident he wanted to say more. His expression were fairly begging her to stay. Liz appraised him with a speculative stare that Max refused to meet. “Maria will be home around eleven,” she said, “And you have her pager number if you need anything, right?”
“Liz, I’m not a baby,” Max whispered, “I can handle being here by myself, okay?”
“Okay,” Liz agreed with a reluctant huff.
Not wanting her to leave with the awkward tension between them, Max grinned a bit. “Now it’s my turn to be the nag,” he warned, waggling his brows, “Did you take your prenatal vitamin today?”
Liz wasn’t proof against his boyish smile. “Done.”
“And did you drink a glass of milk?”
“I had orange juice,” she supplied.
“Our baby needs calcium, Liz,” Max reminded her mildly, “Do I need to get the pamphlet?”
“The juice was calcium fortified,” she returned smugly, “You know, if this is what I’ll have to endure for the next 32 and a half weeks I just might beat you with that damned pamphlet before it’s all over, Max.”
“Ditto for me and this gunshot wound,” Max countered, “I’ll stop clucking if you will.”
Liz narrowed her eyes and shook an admonishing finger at him. “Emotional blackmail is so very low, Maxwell.”
“But extremely effective,” he tossed back. He stacked his hands behind his heads and leaned back against his pillows with a large sigh of satisfaction. Liz thumped his forehead. “Ow,” Max cried in exaggerated pain, rubbing at the smarting spot. “What’s with the physical abuse? I’m mending here.”
“You deserved it,” Liz declared as she hopped from the bed, “How can you be so flippant about the care I give you? I only fuss because I care.” Although her tone was appropriately indignant, the sparkle dancing in her eyes belied any real rancor. “I’m going to school now.”
As she flounced from the room Max called after her, “Good…go on to school! Your nursing skills are sorely lacking anyway!”
She stuck her tongue out at him, her heart soaring crazily at the relaxed mood between them. They were bickering with one another just as they always had. “So I’ll see you after school?” she pressed with a beaming smile.
Max grinned in return. “I’ll be here,” he sighed expansively. However, his smile faded a few minutes later when he heard the front door slam as Liz left the house. The urge to go after her was so strong he had to fist his hands into the sheets to keep from jumping from the bed. Max hadn’t wanted her to go to school. He would have gladly spent the day hanging out, engaging in another painful, soul baring conversation, hell, even watching paint dry if need be…anything to keep his mind off the fact that Tess was being buried today.
What Max supposed was hardest about the day was that he didn’t feel any sadness, at least, not the way he should. He thought it was tragic that she hadn’t received necessary help when she needed it. He definitely thought that eighteen was much too young to die, but his feelings seemed abstract in a sense. Max didn’t feel personally impacted by Tess’ death, which was quite alarming because he’d spent four years of his life with her. She might have well been a complete stranger to him for all the grief he felt. Max couldn’t figure out if his apathy was due to the already strained relationship he and Tess had before her death or the fact that she had shot him.
Max would have liked to talk to Liz about how he was feeling. In the last few days their relationship had become something recognizable to him again. Now that he could concentrate on being a friend without some giant cloud of expectation hanging over him Max was gradually beginning to lower his guard. Of course, his friendship with Liz wasn’t exactly as it had been before but for the most part they were both beginning to trust one another again. And with that burgeoning trust came the natural desire to share his feelings, particularly the conflicted ones he had over Tess’ suicide.
However, Max could not, would not share those feelings with her. Whereas before their marriage Max had been completely ignorant of Liz’s feelings for him and her insecurity over Tess, he now had the full story. He couldn’t willingly submit Liz to a conversation he knew would be uncomfortable for her, perhaps even unwelcome.
Liz was the type of person to listen to his problems even when hearing what he had to say caused her pain. He realized that fact more than ever now that he knew the truth about how long Liz had loved him. When he thought of those nights he would spend in her room mooning over Tess Max couldn’t keep from wincing. Liz had been dying inside and yet she had never said a single word, but had selflessly let him lament his angst to her night after night. She had even given him advice about Tess more than once. Never once had Liz encouraged him to dump Tess even though it was obvious that she wouldn’t have been too broken up if he had. Liz had always put his needs before her own and Max desperately wanted to reciprocate.
He was broken and hurt and terribly confused in the aftermath of Tess’ death but Max was determined not to burden Liz with his feelings about it. She had suffered enough over Tess and he didn’t want to add to that. But the decision was difficult, especially when he had so much stored inside his mind and heart that he felt he might go crazy if he didn’t talk to someone. Max considered calling his sister but he knew that Isabel would never understand. She’d only tell him that he shouldn’t feel guilty or that Tess was sick and she wasn’t his responsibility but she would be unable to help him cope with the confusion, the remorse and the rage.
Max stared at the telephone beside the bed. If he called Liz now he didn’t doubt she’d come right back home to be at his side. And he did need someone to talk to… Max snatched up the phone, but instead of dialing out Liz’s cell number as he intended in his weakness Max instead punched in a number he hadn’t dialed in over a month. His heart actually skipped a beat when the ringing stopped and his call was answered. “Hello, Alex?” Max rushed out nervously, “It’s me, Max…you know, Max Evans…Isabel’s brother.”
Alex paused in the task of shrugging into his suit jacket, a bewildered frown creasing his forehead. “Max?” he bleated out in surprise, “Why are you calling me? Did something happen to Liz?”
“No, no…Liz is fine,” Max replied quickly, “I just called to see how you were doing…I mean, if you’re okay because…well since…”
“You mean because my cousin is being buried today,” Alex provided gently.
“Yeah…that,” Max sighed in miserable affirmation.
“I didn’t really know Tess that well, Max,” Alex replied cautiously, “Not like you did.” A lengthy silence passed between them. “Are you sure you called just to make sure I was okay?” Alex prodded after a moment.
“I didn’t want her to do what she did,” Max said gruffly, “I really did try to help her.”
“I understand that now,” Alex replied, “No one realized how sick she was until it was too late to do anything about it.”
“She was sick…I know that,” Max babbled, “I do know that, but she made me so miserable and…and…I don’t want to hate her, okay.”
“Of course you don’t,” Alex agreed gently, still uncertain over the reason for Max’s unprecedented call.
“She wasn’t a bad person, right…just mixed up?”
Though his replies were disjointed and abrupt Alex had finally gained some sense of where Max was coming from. He was still somewhat disconcerted by the call but could feel much of his discomfort begin to ease. “Max, you don’t have to feel guilty about not attending the funeral,” Alex reassured him, “No one expected you to considering…well, what happened. Besides, my uncle would have pitched a holy conniption if you did come, especially in light of the lawsuit--,”
“Lawsuit?” Max queried sharply, “What lawsuit?”
“You don’t know? Your dad and Mr. Parker are suing Uncle Ed for slander--,”
Max groaned aloud. “—Oh please don’t tell me--,”
“—for the libelous article he had printed about you in the paper.”
“God, why couldn’t he just let it go,” Max muttered more to himself than to Alex, “The man’s daughter just died.”
“And yet my dear uncle was more concerned about spinning the media,” Alex countered quietly, “Believe me…if he’s broken up about Tess’ death at all I haven’t seen it.” When Max said nothing in response to his candid admission Alex asked him, “Does Liz know you’re calling me?”
“I doubt she even knows I have your number,” Max told him with grim humor.
“Why did you call me?” Alex wondered.
“I just thought you would understand,” he replied quietly, “Tess told me what happened with your mom.” She had flippantly divulged the information to Max one night when he asked her how long her cousin would be staying with them. Melissa Harding Whitman had been in an exclusive drug rehabilitation center for the last three months for cocaine and heroin addiction. The courts had given Edward Harding temporary guardianship of his young nephew while his sister recovered. “Don’t you ever resent her for what happened?” Max inquired cautiously.
“When I first moved to Roswell I resented her a lot,” Alex confessed softly, “I was really angry because it seemed that the drugs meant more to her than I did, but I never hated her, Max….just like you don’t hate Tess. Even though you might want to.”
“She tried to kill me,” he croaked thickly.
“But she didn’t,” Alex replied, “You’re alive and she’s dead. The score’s even, dude. Live your life.”
“How can you do that?” Max asked in amazement, “How can you just roll through your life that way and not be bitter?”
“Because I’m always thinking something better is just around the corner,” Alex replied simply, “I keep thinking about the day when my mom will get better and we go back to the way we were before the drugs messed her up. I hold onto that hope everyday.”
“Is that what you think I should do?” Max prodded a tad sarcastically, “Look to the positive?”
“I think you should let go of all this shit you’re holding inside,” Alex counseled wisely, “So you’ve been screwed over…we all do at some time in our lives, but then we’ll do our sharing of screwing, too. I know you have. Yeah, Tess fucked you over, but it’s too late to forgive her. It’s not too late for your parents though. Maybe they’ll get better if you give them a chance. You can’t waste your time being bitter. Life’s a crapshoot, Max…you can’t pick your family. I should know. Just make the most with what you’ve got and hold on tight til better times.”
Max began to shake at the intense wisdom in his words. “Why are you telling me all this, Alex?”
“Hey, you called me, remember?” Alex laughed in reply, “I thought I’d take a minute to give you some good advice.”
Max chuckled humorlessly at the reminder. “Yeah…I guess you’re right.” He fell into a thoughtful silence, his mind crowded with all the things Alex had told him. “I should probably let you go…”
“Yeah…her service starts soon,” Alex agreed. Max started to say good-bye, but at the last moment he uttered a heartfelt “thank you” instead. “You want to thank me?” Alex exhorted, “Take care of Liz, alright? Her heart’s so delicate right now… She’s spent so much time trying to do right by everyone else and now it’s time for someone to do right by her. Just try to make her happy…be happy yourself, man.”
“I will,” Max promised sincerely, “I will.”
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Liz asked Max for the ninth time as she gathered together her schoolbooks. She flopped down onto the bed next to him. “I can take another day off if you need me,” she offered.
“Liz,” Max began patiently, “I’m not on my deathbed here. You’ve already got three days of make-up work to do as it is. I don’t want you missing more school on my account.”
“Max, you’re still recovering,” Liz protested.
“I feel much better,” Max countered firmly, “My incisions are healing and I’m not nearly in as much pain as before. My painkillers are so strong I’m not even completely sure I’m talking to you right now. I’ll be fine.”
Neither of them spoke of the real issue. Today was Tessa Harding’s funeral. Max didn’t want to talk about it. Liz didn’t want to talk about it. Yet neither of them could think of anything else. Of all the emotional confrontations they’d had in the last few days Tess Harding was one subject they hadn’t even attempted to broach. Liz couldn’t quite stamp down the diffidence she felt over that fact either. Even in death Tess continued to plague them, continued to build a wall of silence between them.
Liz didn’t want to push the issue. Max had to be ready to talk about Tess, had to be ready to confront the nightmares that caused him to cry out at night. There would be no forcing him to that point. And even now, as she looked into his hooded gaze knowing the silent agony he was in, Liz forced herself not to pressure him to talk.
She patted his hand gently. “I’m just gonna grab my books and get going,” she told him, “You’re right…I’ve got a ton of make-up work to do.” Max nodded but remained quiet even though it was quite evident he wanted to say more. His expression were fairly begging her to stay. Liz appraised him with a speculative stare that Max refused to meet. “Maria will be home around eleven,” she said, “And you have her pager number if you need anything, right?”
“Liz, I’m not a baby,” Max whispered, “I can handle being here by myself, okay?”
“Okay,” Liz agreed with a reluctant huff.
Not wanting her to leave with the awkward tension between them, Max grinned a bit. “Now it’s my turn to be the nag,” he warned, waggling his brows, “Did you take your prenatal vitamin today?”
Liz wasn’t proof against his boyish smile. “Done.”
“And did you drink a glass of milk?”
“I had orange juice,” she supplied.
“Our baby needs calcium, Liz,” Max reminded her mildly, “Do I need to get the pamphlet?”
“The juice was calcium fortified,” she returned smugly, “You know, if this is what I’ll have to endure for the next 32 and a half weeks I just might beat you with that damned pamphlet before it’s all over, Max.”
“Ditto for me and this gunshot wound,” Max countered, “I’ll stop clucking if you will.”
Liz narrowed her eyes and shook an admonishing finger at him. “Emotional blackmail is so very low, Maxwell.”
“But extremely effective,” he tossed back. He stacked his hands behind his heads and leaned back against his pillows with a large sigh of satisfaction. Liz thumped his forehead. “Ow,” Max cried in exaggerated pain, rubbing at the smarting spot. “What’s with the physical abuse? I’m mending here.”
“You deserved it,” Liz declared as she hopped from the bed, “How can you be so flippant about the care I give you? I only fuss because I care.” Although her tone was appropriately indignant, the sparkle dancing in her eyes belied any real rancor. “I’m going to school now.”
As she flounced from the room Max called after her, “Good…go on to school! Your nursing skills are sorely lacking anyway!”
She stuck her tongue out at him, her heart soaring crazily at the relaxed mood between them. They were bickering with one another just as they always had. “So I’ll see you after school?” she pressed with a beaming smile.
Max grinned in return. “I’ll be here,” he sighed expansively. However, his smile faded a few minutes later when he heard the front door slam as Liz left the house. The urge to go after her was so strong he had to fist his hands into the sheets to keep from jumping from the bed. Max hadn’t wanted her to go to school. He would have gladly spent the day hanging out, engaging in another painful, soul baring conversation, hell, even watching paint dry if need be…anything to keep his mind off the fact that Tess was being buried today.
What Max supposed was hardest about the day was that he didn’t feel any sadness, at least, not the way he should. He thought it was tragic that she hadn’t received necessary help when she needed it. He definitely thought that eighteen was much too young to die, but his feelings seemed abstract in a sense. Max didn’t feel personally impacted by Tess’ death, which was quite alarming because he’d spent four years of his life with her. She might have well been a complete stranger to him for all the grief he felt. Max couldn’t figure out if his apathy was due to the already strained relationship he and Tess had before her death or the fact that she had shot him.
Max would have liked to talk to Liz about how he was feeling. In the last few days their relationship had become something recognizable to him again. Now that he could concentrate on being a friend without some giant cloud of expectation hanging over him Max was gradually beginning to lower his guard. Of course, his friendship with Liz wasn’t exactly as it had been before but for the most part they were both beginning to trust one another again. And with that burgeoning trust came the natural desire to share his feelings, particularly the conflicted ones he had over Tess’ suicide.
However, Max could not, would not share those feelings with her. Whereas before their marriage Max had been completely ignorant of Liz’s feelings for him and her insecurity over Tess, he now had the full story. He couldn’t willingly submit Liz to a conversation he knew would be uncomfortable for her, perhaps even unwelcome.
Liz was the type of person to listen to his problems even when hearing what he had to say caused her pain. He realized that fact more than ever now that he knew the truth about how long Liz had loved him. When he thought of those nights he would spend in her room mooning over Tess Max couldn’t keep from wincing. Liz had been dying inside and yet she had never said a single word, but had selflessly let him lament his angst to her night after night. She had even given him advice about Tess more than once. Never once had Liz encouraged him to dump Tess even though it was obvious that she wouldn’t have been too broken up if he had. Liz had always put his needs before her own and Max desperately wanted to reciprocate.
He was broken and hurt and terribly confused in the aftermath of Tess’ death but Max was determined not to burden Liz with his feelings about it. She had suffered enough over Tess and he didn’t want to add to that. But the decision was difficult, especially when he had so much stored inside his mind and heart that he felt he might go crazy if he didn’t talk to someone. Max considered calling his sister but he knew that Isabel would never understand. She’d only tell him that he shouldn’t feel guilty or that Tess was sick and she wasn’t his responsibility but she would be unable to help him cope with the confusion, the remorse and the rage.
Max stared at the telephone beside the bed. If he called Liz now he didn’t doubt she’d come right back home to be at his side. And he did need someone to talk to… Max snatched up the phone, but instead of dialing out Liz’s cell number as he intended in his weakness Max instead punched in a number he hadn’t dialed in over a month. His heart actually skipped a beat when the ringing stopped and his call was answered. “Hello, Alex?” Max rushed out nervously, “It’s me, Max…you know, Max Evans…Isabel’s brother.”
Alex paused in the task of shrugging into his suit jacket, a bewildered frown creasing his forehead. “Max?” he bleated out in surprise, “Why are you calling me? Did something happen to Liz?”
“No, no…Liz is fine,” Max replied quickly, “I just called to see how you were doing…I mean, if you’re okay because…well since…”
“You mean because my cousin is being buried today,” Alex provided gently.
“Yeah…that,” Max sighed in miserable affirmation.
“I didn’t really know Tess that well, Max,” Alex replied cautiously, “Not like you did.” A lengthy silence passed between them. “Are you sure you called just to make sure I was okay?” Alex prodded after a moment.
“I didn’t want her to do what she did,” Max said gruffly, “I really did try to help her.”
“I understand that now,” Alex replied, “No one realized how sick she was until it was too late to do anything about it.”
“She was sick…I know that,” Max babbled, “I do know that, but she made me so miserable and…and…I don’t want to hate her, okay.”
“Of course you don’t,” Alex agreed gently, still uncertain over the reason for Max’s unprecedented call.
“She wasn’t a bad person, right…just mixed up?”
Though his replies were disjointed and abrupt Alex had finally gained some sense of where Max was coming from. He was still somewhat disconcerted by the call but could feel much of his discomfort begin to ease. “Max, you don’t have to feel guilty about not attending the funeral,” Alex reassured him, “No one expected you to considering…well, what happened. Besides, my uncle would have pitched a holy conniption if you did come, especially in light of the lawsuit--,”
“Lawsuit?” Max queried sharply, “What lawsuit?”
“You don’t know? Your dad and Mr. Parker are suing Uncle Ed for slander--,”
Max groaned aloud. “—Oh please don’t tell me--,”
“—for the libelous article he had printed about you in the paper.”
“God, why couldn’t he just let it go,” Max muttered more to himself than to Alex, “The man’s daughter just died.”
“And yet my dear uncle was more concerned about spinning the media,” Alex countered quietly, “Believe me…if he’s broken up about Tess’ death at all I haven’t seen it.” When Max said nothing in response to his candid admission Alex asked him, “Does Liz know you’re calling me?”
“I doubt she even knows I have your number,” Max told him with grim humor.
“Why did you call me?” Alex wondered.
“I just thought you would understand,” he replied quietly, “Tess told me what happened with your mom.” She had flippantly divulged the information to Max one night when he asked her how long her cousin would be staying with them. Melissa Harding Whitman had been in an exclusive drug rehabilitation center for the last three months for cocaine and heroin addiction. The courts had given Edward Harding temporary guardianship of his young nephew while his sister recovered. “Don’t you ever resent her for what happened?” Max inquired cautiously.
“When I first moved to Roswell I resented her a lot,” Alex confessed softly, “I was really angry because it seemed that the drugs meant more to her than I did, but I never hated her, Max….just like you don’t hate Tess. Even though you might want to.”
“She tried to kill me,” he croaked thickly.
“But she didn’t,” Alex replied, “You’re alive and she’s dead. The score’s even, dude. Live your life.”
“How can you do that?” Max asked in amazement, “How can you just roll through your life that way and not be bitter?”
“Because I’m always thinking something better is just around the corner,” Alex replied simply, “I keep thinking about the day when my mom will get better and we go back to the way we were before the drugs messed her up. I hold onto that hope everyday.”
“Is that what you think I should do?” Max prodded a tad sarcastically, “Look to the positive?”
“I think you should let go of all this shit you’re holding inside,” Alex counseled wisely, “So you’ve been screwed over…we all do at some time in our lives, but then we’ll do our sharing of screwing, too. I know you have. Yeah, Tess fucked you over, but it’s too late to forgive her. It’s not too late for your parents though. Maybe they’ll get better if you give them a chance. You can’t waste your time being bitter. Life’s a crapshoot, Max…you can’t pick your family. I should know. Just make the most with what you’ve got and hold on tight til better times.”
Max began to shake at the intense wisdom in his words. “Why are you telling me all this, Alex?”
“Hey, you called me, remember?” Alex laughed in reply, “I thought I’d take a minute to give you some good advice.”
Max chuckled humorlessly at the reminder. “Yeah…I guess you’re right.” He fell into a thoughtful silence, his mind crowded with all the things Alex had told him. “I should probably let you go…”
“Yeah…her service starts soon,” Alex agreed. Max started to say good-bye, but at the last moment he uttered a heartfelt “thank you” instead. “You want to thank me?” Alex exhorted, “Take care of Liz, alright? Her heart’s so delicate right now… She’s spent so much time trying to do right by everyone else and now it’s time for someone to do right by her. Just try to make her happy…be happy yourself, man.”
“I will,” Max promised sincerely, “I will.”
-
Deejonaise
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2002 12:48 am
- Location: On my rusty dusty...
Chapter Fifty-Seven
“So I know this guy who knows this other guy who has a cousin who is looking to hire a bartender for his club.”
Max did a doubletake in Maria’s direction. “Say what?”
“You do want a job, right?” Maria clarified, pausing momentarily in the engrossing task of painting her toenails. She wiggled the newly polished digits experimentally. “I can hook you up.”
Max sighed deeply, closed his book, So You’re Pregnant…Now What?, and regarded Maria with a woebegone expression, suppressing a shudder at her glib offer to “hook him up.” He had been living with her for the last three weeks and he still wasn’t remotely accustomed to her unique brand of communication. Maria could spark a conversation on any given subject with absolutely no precedence whatsoever. He never knew what was going to fly out of her mouth next. In addition Maria also spoke fluent motormouth and, as a result, much of what she said usually went completely over Max’s head. Still, he couldn’t help but find Maria’s quirkiness endearing rather than annoying.
Ever since his enlightening conversation with Alex, Max had been making the conscience decision to seek happiness. His first order of the day had been to lay his feelings bare to Liz. That afternoon when she had come home from school Max had taken her aside and they spent more than an hour settling all the painful misunderstandings between them. By the time they were done more than a few tears had been shed, but they had been left with one, irrefutable truth: they loved each other and they would never, NEVER allow anything to drive a wedge between them again. And what was more Max realized that, after a month of feeling like he had absolutely no one, he suddenly had a friend again…and the list seemed to be growing to include others as well.
Surprisingly enough, he’d actually spoken to Alex several times since that first conversation. The more Max got to know him the more he understood why Isabel and Liz liked him so much. He was like a sixteen-year-old contradiction, on the one hand completely hilarious and fun loving, but on the other hand prudent and wise. He was just the kind of friend Max needed.
Liz seemed inordinately surprised by their newfound friendship but pleased as well. In fact now, whenever Alex called to chat, she would pass the phone to Max and give him some talk time as well. What was even more surprising was that their conversations weren’t just limited to a few minutes only…Max had spoken to Alex on a variety of subjects from deep to frivolous. With each day Max felt his gratitude for Alex swell all the more. After all…Alex had helped him find himself again.
After that day on the phone Max took back his life. He started to smile and laugh more. There were still days when he felt sullen and defeated but those times were coming with less frequency. His nightmares also lessened to the point where he almost barely had them anymore. He had even taken the first tentative steps toward forgiving his mother. Though he had yet to have a conversation with her personally he had engaged in some minimal communication via Isabel.
He couldn’t think about his father at all. That wound ran so much deeper than the last few months…they had years of animosity between them to overcome. He could make the effort to be civil to his father if the need arose but they were a long way off from reconciliation. At present it was the best Max could do. He’d made the decision to be happy, but that didn’t negate the very real anger he continued to feel. But it got better…as the days blended one into another Max found more and more reasons for joy and the angry resentment burning inside died out a little with each one.
He’d even begun looking for a job a week before. Liz, of course, thought it was much too soon for him to be searching for work. If she had her way he’d be on bed rest for the remainder of his life. But Max desperately needed to occupy his time and a job was the perfect solution. It was somewhat difficult finding reasons for happiness when his future was still so uncertain. Acquiring gainful employment would go a long way in putting his life into perspective. He’d already decided to move out at the end of his six week recovery time but Max would feel much better if he had a job by then as well.
Knowing he would garner no support from Liz because he hadn’t yet fulfilled his recommended recovery time Max had gone to Maria for help. Arguing with Liz over how much better he felt didn’t make any waves. Though she could see with her own eyes that he was regaining his lost weight, his color was coming back again and even that he’d begun exercising she still wouldn’t let herself forget he had a healing hole in his chest. When she was home from school she fussed over him like a little mother, shoveling chicken soup down his throat and hovering solicitously. Though Max loved the showered attention he was beginning to yearn for the natural right to do things on his own. Liz couldn’t mother him forever…hence the need for a job.
Maria was quite eager to offer her assistance and, although her recommendations had been somewhat suspect (already she’d sent him to two strip clubs and one nudie bar), Max was grateful for her efforts. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder where the hell she was finding her contact people and her “hook ups” as she termed them. He was almost afraid to believe her description of this latest job find.
“A bartender?” he questioned, his brows knit together in a skeptical frown, “After a week of sending me on the job interviews from hell you’ve got me set up for a gig bartending?”
“Hey!” she cried, screwing the cap back onto her nail polish and fixing him with an offended frown. She jabbed the bottle in his general direction. “I’ll have you know that those interviews I set you up for were perfectly legitimate and good money, too!”
“Whatever gave you the impression I would want to shake my half naked ass for a room full of salivating women in the first place?” Max muttered.
“You’re not a bad looking guy, Max,” Maria commented with a shrug, “I think you would have made one helluva stripper.” She fixed him with earnest green eyes full of mischief. “I would have come to see you.”
“Yeah, I’d just bet,” Max retorted dryly, rolling his eyes, “Now can you retract your tongue and tell me more about this interview you’ve set up.”
“Well, like I was saying,” Maria recounted glibly, “There’s this guy in my Art Appreciation class…Derek…anyway he has this buddy whose cousin is hiring for bartenders at his club. He says the pays pretty good because the place is right on the beach. It’s always busy.”
“I don’t really know anything about bartending,” Max replied unenthusiastically.
“No sweat,” she replied, “I told Derek you were a friend and he said he’d see if he could work it so that you could train on the job. How’s that?”
“He doesn’t even know me. Why is he doing it?” Max demanded suspiciously, “What’s in it for him, Maria?”
“Relax!” she soothed when she recognized that Max was on the verge of a major spaz attack, “I promised I’d go out on a date with him. No biggie. It’s not like it’s gonna hurt or anything. I think he’s kinda hot.”
“Yeah…you thought Michael was kinda hot, too,” Max reminded her with a smirk. He was well aware of the times Michael had called to talk to Maria and the effective way she shut him down each time he did.
“The operative word here is thought,” Maria emphasized sarcastically, “After what he did to Liz though, well…I just didn’t want to deal with that kind of drama. I mean, if the guy lies to his own sister how the hell is he gonna be honest with me?”
Max traced his finger down the spine of his book. “Well, technically he was only trying to protect his sister,” he argued carefully, “He just made a bad judgment call.”
“He lied,” Maria declared flatly.
“He had a good reason is all I’m saying,” Max mumbled.
Maria’s mouth fell wide open and she plunked her nail polish onto the glass coffee table with an audible clink. “You sound like you’ve forgiven him,” she observed in surprise.
Max seemed surprised by the notion as well. “I don’t know,” he murmured to himself, “Maybe I have.”
Just then the front door flew open and Liz shuffled in, loaded down with her schoolbooks, purse, the mail and car keys. Max jumped up from his chair automatically to help her with her load but she waved him away. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” she asked in mild irritation.
“Liz, lay off,” Maria scolded her, “The guy’s been confined to this apartment for almost a month! Let him get out of bed every now and again.” Liz still didn’t know that Max went running every morning after she left for school. Maria definitely wasn’t going to be the one to tell her either.
“He’s recovering from major surgery, Maria,” Liz intoned tartly as she slung her book bag onto the couch. She didn’t see that Maria and Max mockingly mouthed the last of her statement with her. When she whipped around to face them again, however, their faces were properly chastened. “He could easily have a setback and then where would we be, huh?”
“Okay, I’ll go back to bed,” he grumbled, dutifully chastened. Max scooped up his book and started to trudge back towards the bedroom. As he did Liz called behind him, “I’ll make you some chicken soup.” Max had to suppress his answering groan of revulsion.
An hour later Max was well into the fifth chapter of his book and learning quite a bit about the second trimester of pregnancy and what to expect when Liz crept into the bedroom carrying a bed and breakfast tray with her. When he saw her Max smiled and rolled upright so that she could set the tray across his lap. Max was surprised, however, to find the bowl she’d brought him NOT full of chicken soup as she’d promised but Froot Loops instead. Max favored her with a crooked smile of thanks for bringing him his favorite cereal.
“Not that I’m complaining but what happened to the soup?” he asked after a mouthful.
“Maria thought you were just a bowl away from snapping,” Liz replied wryly, scooting down beside him, “I thought the cereal would be a nice change of pace.”
“Thanks,” Max said sweetly, plucking up one fruity loop and popping it into Liz’s mouth. She chewed the crunchy morsel obediently but her eyes seemed shadowed with something more. Max suddenly realized that her cross mood that afternoon might have had more to do with than just his being out of bed. He sat his food tray aside and regarded her directly. “What’s wrong?”
“I got something in the mail today,” she whispered, her eyes fixed into her lap.
“What?” Max prodded gently, his heart already beginning to pound with alarm.
In answer to his question Liz dragged herself from the bed and shuffled over to where she’d laid her backpack earlier. When she returned to the bed she carried with her an express mail envelope. She passed it to Max. “What’s this?” he asked, turning the envelope over in his hands.
“Open it,” Liz instructed gruffly.
More alarmed by the expression on her face than anything else Max tore into the envelope and momentarily stopped breathing at what he found. It was their divorce decree, nice, crisp and processed a little more than a week before. The dissolution of their marriage was now final. Max felt a horrible ache form in his heart at the thought. “So we’re officially divorced now, huh?” he observed hoarsely.
“Looks like,” Liz replied. Her words held a strangled quality, almost as if she were trying very hard not to cry.
Seeing that she was, in fact, very near tears Max set aside the notarized document and pulled her into his arms. “How do you feel about it?” he whispered tenderly.
“I don’t know,” Liz replied with disjointed hiccups of sorrow, “I…I thought I’d be relieved that this whole thing is finally over but…but when I opened that envelope and saw what was inside I just felt…”
“…Empty?” Max queried softly.
Liz raised her wet gaze to his. “How did you know?” she sniffled.
“That’s exactly how I felt,” he confessed.
“I don’t understand,” Liz cried out mournfully, “I thought going through with the divorce was supposed to make us feel better not worse. I still don’t think I’m ready to be a wife but I can’t help but be sad that it’s over between us now.”
He cradled her face against his shoulder, skimming his fingers across her cheek in a feathery caress. “Liz, it’s not over between us,” he said with a rueful chuckle, “We’re still friends, remember?” Max tipped up her chin so that he could look into her eyes. “Nothing is ever gonna come between us again…we promised each other.”
“Okay,” Liz conceded with a pout, “then why do I feel so crummy?”
“Maybe because, like me, you wanted it to work out for us despite the horrible way we were put together,” Max replied sagely, “You wanted to be a good wife and I wanted to be a good husband. I just don’t think either one of us knew how to go about making that happen. When you think about it we were pretty bad at married life.” Liz leveled him with a querulous, scolding frown. “Okay, okay,” Max laughed in amendment, “I was pretty bad at it, you were a paragon of virtue.”
Liz attacked his side with a tickling pinch, which elicited a coughing giggle from Max. “Stop it,” she warned him with a wobbly smile, “I guess I made my share of the mistakes, too.”
“It’s not important who’s more at fault, Liz,” Max told her, “We just need to be careful not to repeat the same mistakes again.”
“You think getting married would be a mistake?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” Max clarified quickly, “I’m just saying there’s a whole other aspect to being a husband that I never even thought about. For instance, it’s not just important to be a good provider to your family…they have to come first. And I realized that, while we were married, I never put you first, Liz. There was always something more important and that was wrong. My first obligation should have been to you.”
“But it was to Tess instead,” Liz provided in a shaky whisper.
“She was only part of it, Liz,” Max said, “If I hadn’t had Tess to take away my focus then it would have been school or some other distraction. Back then I was pretty self-centered, Liz…I didn’t think a whole lot about how what I did affected others, namely you. I’m working on that now, but while we were married…. I wouldn’t have given you 100% then…and you deserved nothing less than that.”
“And now?” Liz prodded.
Max sighed out a disjointed laugh. “I’m still trying to get my life in order,” he explained, “At this point in my life I have nothing to offer you, nothing to offer our child. That’s not 100% either, Liz.”
“And what if I told you that all I needed was to be with you?” she countered softly. His fingers stilled against her cheek. “Max,” she whispered carefully, “You know I’m in love with you, right?” After an extended pause she felt him nod against the top of her head. Her lungs deflated with her sigh of relief. And then she held her breath again in preparation for her next question. “Are you in love with me?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m in love with you, Liz,” he answered without hesitation, “I love you so much it scares me but…I’m not good with relationships. I ruined the only two I’ve ever had while trying desperately to keep them together and…and now that you and I are finally getting back on track with each other I don’t want to take the chance of fucking things up again.”
“So you’re telling me you want to go slow?” Liz surmised with an amused smile.
“As slow as drying paint,” Max clarified wryly and then he added for good measure, “The oil kind.”
Liz choked back a giggle. “I think I can manage that,” she conceded, her eyes sparkling with laughter now instead of tears as she tipped back her head to regard him. “We’re just friends with the potential for becoming something more…right?”
Max stared down into her pretty, glowing face and suddenly lost his train of thought. In that moment, she looked absolutely breathtaking to him, her brown eyes gleaming with cheer and affection, her beautiful, pink mouth curved up into an angelic smile. It had been quite a while since he’d seen her so happy and the realization filled him with joy. He dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Yes, we are that,” he murmured softly, overwhelmed unexpectedly with the desire to kiss her. His feelings were not sexual or explicit, just the burning need to feel her lips beneath his, to seal this deal they had made.
But before he could even begin debating over whether he should give into his temptation to do so or not Liz was already rolling from the bed. “Well, I feel better now,” she announced cheerily, “Thanks, Max. Maybe now I can finally concentrate on my homework.” She flicked her gaze to the bowl of cereal on the other side of him. “Can I get you something else? It looks like the Froot Loops have turned into Froot Mush.”
Max chuckled a bit at her observation, still somewhat distracted by the desire to kiss her. “No, I can take care of it,” he said, “I’ll just make myself a grilled cheese or something.”
“Well, just so you don’t go hungry,” Liz admonished sweetly. She crossed over to where her backpack lay on the floor and hoisted it onto her shoulder. “Well, I guess I’d better go hit the books and get to bed, otherwise I’ll be dragging in the morning,” she said with a small wave, “Night, Evans. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night, Parker,” he replied with a lopsided smile, adding in a whisper once she’d left, “I love you.”
“So I know this guy who knows this other guy who has a cousin who is looking to hire a bartender for his club.”
Max did a doubletake in Maria’s direction. “Say what?”
“You do want a job, right?” Maria clarified, pausing momentarily in the engrossing task of painting her toenails. She wiggled the newly polished digits experimentally. “I can hook you up.”
Max sighed deeply, closed his book, So You’re Pregnant…Now What?, and regarded Maria with a woebegone expression, suppressing a shudder at her glib offer to “hook him up.” He had been living with her for the last three weeks and he still wasn’t remotely accustomed to her unique brand of communication. Maria could spark a conversation on any given subject with absolutely no precedence whatsoever. He never knew what was going to fly out of her mouth next. In addition Maria also spoke fluent motormouth and, as a result, much of what she said usually went completely over Max’s head. Still, he couldn’t help but find Maria’s quirkiness endearing rather than annoying.
Ever since his enlightening conversation with Alex, Max had been making the conscience decision to seek happiness. His first order of the day had been to lay his feelings bare to Liz. That afternoon when she had come home from school Max had taken her aside and they spent more than an hour settling all the painful misunderstandings between them. By the time they were done more than a few tears had been shed, but they had been left with one, irrefutable truth: they loved each other and they would never, NEVER allow anything to drive a wedge between them again. And what was more Max realized that, after a month of feeling like he had absolutely no one, he suddenly had a friend again…and the list seemed to be growing to include others as well.
Surprisingly enough, he’d actually spoken to Alex several times since that first conversation. The more Max got to know him the more he understood why Isabel and Liz liked him so much. He was like a sixteen-year-old contradiction, on the one hand completely hilarious and fun loving, but on the other hand prudent and wise. He was just the kind of friend Max needed.
Liz seemed inordinately surprised by their newfound friendship but pleased as well. In fact now, whenever Alex called to chat, she would pass the phone to Max and give him some talk time as well. What was even more surprising was that their conversations weren’t just limited to a few minutes only…Max had spoken to Alex on a variety of subjects from deep to frivolous. With each day Max felt his gratitude for Alex swell all the more. After all…Alex had helped him find himself again.
After that day on the phone Max took back his life. He started to smile and laugh more. There were still days when he felt sullen and defeated but those times were coming with less frequency. His nightmares also lessened to the point where he almost barely had them anymore. He had even taken the first tentative steps toward forgiving his mother. Though he had yet to have a conversation with her personally he had engaged in some minimal communication via Isabel.
He couldn’t think about his father at all. That wound ran so much deeper than the last few months…they had years of animosity between them to overcome. He could make the effort to be civil to his father if the need arose but they were a long way off from reconciliation. At present it was the best Max could do. He’d made the decision to be happy, but that didn’t negate the very real anger he continued to feel. But it got better…as the days blended one into another Max found more and more reasons for joy and the angry resentment burning inside died out a little with each one.
He’d even begun looking for a job a week before. Liz, of course, thought it was much too soon for him to be searching for work. If she had her way he’d be on bed rest for the remainder of his life. But Max desperately needed to occupy his time and a job was the perfect solution. It was somewhat difficult finding reasons for happiness when his future was still so uncertain. Acquiring gainful employment would go a long way in putting his life into perspective. He’d already decided to move out at the end of his six week recovery time but Max would feel much better if he had a job by then as well.
Knowing he would garner no support from Liz because he hadn’t yet fulfilled his recommended recovery time Max had gone to Maria for help. Arguing with Liz over how much better he felt didn’t make any waves. Though she could see with her own eyes that he was regaining his lost weight, his color was coming back again and even that he’d begun exercising she still wouldn’t let herself forget he had a healing hole in his chest. When she was home from school she fussed over him like a little mother, shoveling chicken soup down his throat and hovering solicitously. Though Max loved the showered attention he was beginning to yearn for the natural right to do things on his own. Liz couldn’t mother him forever…hence the need for a job.
Maria was quite eager to offer her assistance and, although her recommendations had been somewhat suspect (already she’d sent him to two strip clubs and one nudie bar), Max was grateful for her efforts. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder where the hell she was finding her contact people and her “hook ups” as she termed them. He was almost afraid to believe her description of this latest job find.
“A bartender?” he questioned, his brows knit together in a skeptical frown, “After a week of sending me on the job interviews from hell you’ve got me set up for a gig bartending?”
“Hey!” she cried, screwing the cap back onto her nail polish and fixing him with an offended frown. She jabbed the bottle in his general direction. “I’ll have you know that those interviews I set you up for were perfectly legitimate and good money, too!”
“Whatever gave you the impression I would want to shake my half naked ass for a room full of salivating women in the first place?” Max muttered.
“You’re not a bad looking guy, Max,” Maria commented with a shrug, “I think you would have made one helluva stripper.” She fixed him with earnest green eyes full of mischief. “I would have come to see you.”
“Yeah, I’d just bet,” Max retorted dryly, rolling his eyes, “Now can you retract your tongue and tell me more about this interview you’ve set up.”
“Well, like I was saying,” Maria recounted glibly, “There’s this guy in my Art Appreciation class…Derek…anyway he has this buddy whose cousin is hiring for bartenders at his club. He says the pays pretty good because the place is right on the beach. It’s always busy.”
“I don’t really know anything about bartending,” Max replied unenthusiastically.
“No sweat,” she replied, “I told Derek you were a friend and he said he’d see if he could work it so that you could train on the job. How’s that?”
“He doesn’t even know me. Why is he doing it?” Max demanded suspiciously, “What’s in it for him, Maria?”
“Relax!” she soothed when she recognized that Max was on the verge of a major spaz attack, “I promised I’d go out on a date with him. No biggie. It’s not like it’s gonna hurt or anything. I think he’s kinda hot.”
“Yeah…you thought Michael was kinda hot, too,” Max reminded her with a smirk. He was well aware of the times Michael had called to talk to Maria and the effective way she shut him down each time he did.
“The operative word here is thought,” Maria emphasized sarcastically, “After what he did to Liz though, well…I just didn’t want to deal with that kind of drama. I mean, if the guy lies to his own sister how the hell is he gonna be honest with me?”
Max traced his finger down the spine of his book. “Well, technically he was only trying to protect his sister,” he argued carefully, “He just made a bad judgment call.”
“He lied,” Maria declared flatly.
“He had a good reason is all I’m saying,” Max mumbled.
Maria’s mouth fell wide open and she plunked her nail polish onto the glass coffee table with an audible clink. “You sound like you’ve forgiven him,” she observed in surprise.
Max seemed surprised by the notion as well. “I don’t know,” he murmured to himself, “Maybe I have.”
Just then the front door flew open and Liz shuffled in, loaded down with her schoolbooks, purse, the mail and car keys. Max jumped up from his chair automatically to help her with her load but she waved him away. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” she asked in mild irritation.
“Liz, lay off,” Maria scolded her, “The guy’s been confined to this apartment for almost a month! Let him get out of bed every now and again.” Liz still didn’t know that Max went running every morning after she left for school. Maria definitely wasn’t going to be the one to tell her either.
“He’s recovering from major surgery, Maria,” Liz intoned tartly as she slung her book bag onto the couch. She didn’t see that Maria and Max mockingly mouthed the last of her statement with her. When she whipped around to face them again, however, their faces were properly chastened. “He could easily have a setback and then where would we be, huh?”
“Okay, I’ll go back to bed,” he grumbled, dutifully chastened. Max scooped up his book and started to trudge back towards the bedroom. As he did Liz called behind him, “I’ll make you some chicken soup.” Max had to suppress his answering groan of revulsion.
An hour later Max was well into the fifth chapter of his book and learning quite a bit about the second trimester of pregnancy and what to expect when Liz crept into the bedroom carrying a bed and breakfast tray with her. When he saw her Max smiled and rolled upright so that she could set the tray across his lap. Max was surprised, however, to find the bowl she’d brought him NOT full of chicken soup as she’d promised but Froot Loops instead. Max favored her with a crooked smile of thanks for bringing him his favorite cereal.
“Not that I’m complaining but what happened to the soup?” he asked after a mouthful.
“Maria thought you were just a bowl away from snapping,” Liz replied wryly, scooting down beside him, “I thought the cereal would be a nice change of pace.”
“Thanks,” Max said sweetly, plucking up one fruity loop and popping it into Liz’s mouth. She chewed the crunchy morsel obediently but her eyes seemed shadowed with something more. Max suddenly realized that her cross mood that afternoon might have had more to do with than just his being out of bed. He sat his food tray aside and regarded her directly. “What’s wrong?”
“I got something in the mail today,” she whispered, her eyes fixed into her lap.
“What?” Max prodded gently, his heart already beginning to pound with alarm.
In answer to his question Liz dragged herself from the bed and shuffled over to where she’d laid her backpack earlier. When she returned to the bed she carried with her an express mail envelope. She passed it to Max. “What’s this?” he asked, turning the envelope over in his hands.
“Open it,” Liz instructed gruffly.
More alarmed by the expression on her face than anything else Max tore into the envelope and momentarily stopped breathing at what he found. It was their divorce decree, nice, crisp and processed a little more than a week before. The dissolution of their marriage was now final. Max felt a horrible ache form in his heart at the thought. “So we’re officially divorced now, huh?” he observed hoarsely.
“Looks like,” Liz replied. Her words held a strangled quality, almost as if she were trying very hard not to cry.
Seeing that she was, in fact, very near tears Max set aside the notarized document and pulled her into his arms. “How do you feel about it?” he whispered tenderly.
“I don’t know,” Liz replied with disjointed hiccups of sorrow, “I…I thought I’d be relieved that this whole thing is finally over but…but when I opened that envelope and saw what was inside I just felt…”
“…Empty?” Max queried softly.
Liz raised her wet gaze to his. “How did you know?” she sniffled.
“That’s exactly how I felt,” he confessed.
“I don’t understand,” Liz cried out mournfully, “I thought going through with the divorce was supposed to make us feel better not worse. I still don’t think I’m ready to be a wife but I can’t help but be sad that it’s over between us now.”
He cradled her face against his shoulder, skimming his fingers across her cheek in a feathery caress. “Liz, it’s not over between us,” he said with a rueful chuckle, “We’re still friends, remember?” Max tipped up her chin so that he could look into her eyes. “Nothing is ever gonna come between us again…we promised each other.”
“Okay,” Liz conceded with a pout, “then why do I feel so crummy?”
“Maybe because, like me, you wanted it to work out for us despite the horrible way we were put together,” Max replied sagely, “You wanted to be a good wife and I wanted to be a good husband. I just don’t think either one of us knew how to go about making that happen. When you think about it we were pretty bad at married life.” Liz leveled him with a querulous, scolding frown. “Okay, okay,” Max laughed in amendment, “I was pretty bad at it, you were a paragon of virtue.”
Liz attacked his side with a tickling pinch, which elicited a coughing giggle from Max. “Stop it,” she warned him with a wobbly smile, “I guess I made my share of the mistakes, too.”
“It’s not important who’s more at fault, Liz,” Max told her, “We just need to be careful not to repeat the same mistakes again.”
“You think getting married would be a mistake?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying,” Max clarified quickly, “I’m just saying there’s a whole other aspect to being a husband that I never even thought about. For instance, it’s not just important to be a good provider to your family…they have to come first. And I realized that, while we were married, I never put you first, Liz. There was always something more important and that was wrong. My first obligation should have been to you.”
“But it was to Tess instead,” Liz provided in a shaky whisper.
“She was only part of it, Liz,” Max said, “If I hadn’t had Tess to take away my focus then it would have been school or some other distraction. Back then I was pretty self-centered, Liz…I didn’t think a whole lot about how what I did affected others, namely you. I’m working on that now, but while we were married…. I wouldn’t have given you 100% then…and you deserved nothing less than that.”
“And now?” Liz prodded.
Max sighed out a disjointed laugh. “I’m still trying to get my life in order,” he explained, “At this point in my life I have nothing to offer you, nothing to offer our child. That’s not 100% either, Liz.”
“And what if I told you that all I needed was to be with you?” she countered softly. His fingers stilled against her cheek. “Max,” she whispered carefully, “You know I’m in love with you, right?” After an extended pause she felt him nod against the top of her head. Her lungs deflated with her sigh of relief. And then she held her breath again in preparation for her next question. “Are you in love with me?”
“Yes. Yes, I’m in love with you, Liz,” he answered without hesitation, “I love you so much it scares me but…I’m not good with relationships. I ruined the only two I’ve ever had while trying desperately to keep them together and…and now that you and I are finally getting back on track with each other I don’t want to take the chance of fucking things up again.”
“So you’re telling me you want to go slow?” Liz surmised with an amused smile.
“As slow as drying paint,” Max clarified wryly and then he added for good measure, “The oil kind.”
Liz choked back a giggle. “I think I can manage that,” she conceded, her eyes sparkling with laughter now instead of tears as she tipped back her head to regard him. “We’re just friends with the potential for becoming something more…right?”
Max stared down into her pretty, glowing face and suddenly lost his train of thought. In that moment, she looked absolutely breathtaking to him, her brown eyes gleaming with cheer and affection, her beautiful, pink mouth curved up into an angelic smile. It had been quite a while since he’d seen her so happy and the realization filled him with joy. He dropped a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Yes, we are that,” he murmured softly, overwhelmed unexpectedly with the desire to kiss her. His feelings were not sexual or explicit, just the burning need to feel her lips beneath his, to seal this deal they had made.
But before he could even begin debating over whether he should give into his temptation to do so or not Liz was already rolling from the bed. “Well, I feel better now,” she announced cheerily, “Thanks, Max. Maybe now I can finally concentrate on my homework.” She flicked her gaze to the bowl of cereal on the other side of him. “Can I get you something else? It looks like the Froot Loops have turned into Froot Mush.”
Max chuckled a bit at her observation, still somewhat distracted by the desire to kiss her. “No, I can take care of it,” he said, “I’ll just make myself a grilled cheese or something.”
“Well, just so you don’t go hungry,” Liz admonished sweetly. She crossed over to where her backpack lay on the floor and hoisted it onto her shoulder. “Well, I guess I’d better go hit the books and get to bed, otherwise I’ll be dragging in the morning,” she said with a small wave, “Night, Evans. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night, Parker,” he replied with a lopsided smile, adding in a whisper once she’d left, “I love you.”
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Deejonaise
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 385
- Joined: Thu Feb 28, 2002 12:48 am
- Location: On my rusty dusty...
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Liz thrust the flowerpot into Max’s unsuspecting arms. “What the hell is this?” he demanded as she breezed past him right into his apartment.
“It’s a cactus,” Liz provided in flippant distraction, “What does it look like?” She hadn’t expected to find his apartment so bare. Save for the purple beanbag in the middle of his living room the place was completely empty. Liz felt the urge to throw up her hands in exasperation. She just knew this moving out business had been a bad idea from the start! He didn’t even have a place to sit. Liz whirled to face him. “Where’s all your furniture?” she demanded sharply, “I thought you told me you had everything you needed.”
“I do have everything I need. The furniture hasn’t been delivered yet, mein furor,” Max explained dryly. He offered her a snappy salute before following up with a question of his own. “So what’s this plant for?” He stared down at the prickly shrub in distaste.
Liz crept around in the hallway, sneaking surreptitious peaks into the back bedrooms. They were naked of furniture as well. But at least the bathroom had a stock of clean towels, Liz noted ostentatiously, that was better than nothing, she supposed. “The cactus is supposed to be a housewarming present, Max…duh!”
“But didn’t you already give me a coffee maker and dishes,” Max protested, his lip curled with mild revulsion. “I really don’t think that a plant is necessary.” He carefully placed the cactus onto the floor, running his fingers along the prickly spines. It wasn’t exactly the type of thing a person would find in a bachelor pad. “Liz, you know I don’t do plants,” he scolded, “The last time I had a plant it was a bean sprout for Ms. Abernathy’s sixth grade science class and that died after two days.”
Liz skipped back from the hall and crouched down beside him, clapping a reassuring hand onto his shoulder. “Max, this is a cactus,” she told him smugly, “Even you can’t kill it. Besides I think it’ll brighten up the place.” Max didn’t look at all convinced. He wasn’t exactly sure he wanted his place brightened up. That sounded too perky, too girly. He glared down at the cactus as if he expected it to break into song at any moment. Ignoring his look, Liz asked him softly, “So how are you liking your new digs?”
At her inquiry Max finally managed to tear his attention from the unwanted plant. “The neighborhood’s nice,” he admitted, falling back on his haunches, “My next door neighbor brought me a cake this morning. She’s a sweet old lady. I think I might check on her from time to time.”
“I’m not surprised,” Liz commented with a twinge of pride, “You’ve definitely got that Knight in Shining Armor thing down to an art form. And,” she added, quickly changing the subject, “I’d definitely have to agree about the neighborhood though. It’s much nicer than that last place you looked at,” Liz agreed cheekily, “I thought somebody was gonna gut my car while you were in there talking to the resident manager.”
Max rolled his eyes at her comment and pushed to his feet. “Such a comedian,” he groused.
Liz shrugged, straightening as well. “I give it to you straight, remember?”
“Don’t let it go to your head, Parker,” Max snorted with a laugh as he ambled off for the kitchen. He rummaged through the refrigerator. “Do you want some water or soda or something,” he asked, “Maybe a piece of cake? It’s chocolate…I know how you’re going for that right now.”
“Actually I’ve moved on from my chocolate phase,” Liz informed him, a smug grin spreading across her glowing face, “I’m into cherries now. Maraschino cherries, to be exact.”
Max paused in the act of cutting his own slice of cake, swiveling around halfway to face her. “Okay, first it was mushrooms, then chocolate, and now you’ve moved onto cherries?”
“Well, I’m still into the chocolate, but I prefer the cherries.”
“And the mushrooms?”
“That’s over,” Liz replied with a repulsed shudder, “What was I even thinking then?”
Max chuckled at her expression, sucking the dabs of chocolate frosting from his fingertips. “God, you and your cravings,” he laughed ruefully, “I’ll never understand them. So you still haven’t told me…is it yes or no to the cake?”
“Yes, to the cake,” Liz replied excitedly.
“You want a drink, too,” Max prodded wryly, “Or have you sworn those off, as well?”
“Do you have any glasses,” Liz countered glibly.
He tossed a sour glance at her over his shoulder. “You know I do, Parker,” he returned dryly, “You gave them to me.”
“Oh, that’s riiiiight I did,” Liz drawled as she skipped into the kitchen. She slipped onto a barstool and braced her elbows against the countertop, watching Max as he poured both their sodas into tall, iced glasses. “I want you to remember what an exceptional friend I am when I ask you what I have to ask you.”
“I knew you had an ulterior motive for being here,” Max replied laconically, “No way you’d hightail it halfway across town straight from school without wanting something.”
“Now hear me out before you start getting all suspicious,” Liz admonished, throwing up her hands in mock surrender. Max took a sip of his Coke and regarded her with speculative eyes. He pulled up his own barstool and flopped down onto it, waiting patiently for her to begin. “So I know you’re looking for a roommate…”
“…Yeah,” Max agreed slowly, “I thought it might help to defray some of the cost of this place. We talked about this already.”
“That’s right we did,” Liz said, “But we never discussed why you’re looking when you have a perfectly good roommate sitting right in front of you.”
Max threw back his head and expelled a long-suffering sigh. “How did I know you were going to say that?” he moaned.
Subconsciously, he’d been waiting for her to broach the subject since he first informed her he was moving out. Liz had held her tongue when he started his new job, she’d held her tongue when he’d resumed a rigorous exercise regimen, and she’d even held her tongue about his moving out into his own two-bedroom apartment. However, Max should have known she had an ulterior motive for her passivity. She’d been much too quiet when he batted around the idea of a roommate.
A chesire smile curved the edges of Liz’s mouth as she watched Max’s thoughts flicker expressively across his face. “It actually makes perfect sense,” Liz reasoned, “You need a roommate and I need a place to stay.”
“You’re talking about living together, Liz!” Max cried.
“I know,” Liz trilled giddily, “Isn’t it brilliant?”
“You’re completely demented.”
“Max, think about it,” Liz propositioned, “You don’t have to worry about being a part-time dad because the baby and I will be right here. And you won’t miss any of the important moments of this pregnancy…you know, the first kick and watching me grow…you’ll be there firsthand. Don’t you want that, Max? I know I do.”
“Liz, you have to realize that this is the worst idea ever.”
“Why?” she demanded tartly, “It worked for Ross and Rachel on Friends so why can’t it work for us?”
Max contemplated thudding his head against the countertop a couple of times. “First of all,” he explained patiently, “Ross and Rachel are fictional characters. And second of all, Rachel just moved out so that doesn’t even count.”
“Okay, well Ross and Rachel aside,” Liz replied dismissively, “We can do this. We’ve lived together before so we already know what to expect from each other…plus you never have to worry about me leaving you high and dry for the rent.”
Max hung his head forward in exasperation. She was oversimplifying the situation so greatly that Max had to resist the urge to laugh in hysteria. Didn’t she see that her suggestion was doomed to failure? They had only just rediscovered their friendship again and, though Max still had a strong attraction for her, he knew that was all he could offer at the moment. But the fact did remain that his feelings toward Liz weren’t entirely friendly and that truth was difficult to ignore.
Living with her had tested the reins of his restraint but fortunately Maria had been there to serve as a buffer. However, there would be no one to buffer if Liz came to live with him here. His resistance would crumble in a matter of days. There would be absolutely no way he’d manage to keep their relationship purely platonic. But then Max suddenly asked himself why he would even want to.
They were getting along; perhaps better than they had ever before. And he was hoping to progress forward in their relationship so… “You want to move in here with me?” Max questioned just for further clarification.
“I’ll be the best roommate you ever had,” Liz vowed.
“And if we become more than roommates?” Max prodded.
“Isn’t that the point?”
Max shoved his uneaten slice of cake in front of her. “Eat,” he ordered sternly, “The more you talk the more sense you make to me.”
“You know it’s a good idea,” Liz deduced knowingly, “otherwise you wouldn’t be trying to shut me up right now.”
“You don’t think it will be awkward living together considering the circumstances?”
“What circumstances?” Liz wondered blankly.
“We’ve been married and divorced, Liz,” Max reminded her pointedly, “We’re also expecting a baby very soon.”
“Which makes us perfect roommates,” Liz concluded around a mouthful of chocolate cake.
“Don’t you care what people will think, Liz?” Max asked.
Liz shoveled in another forkful of cake. “What? What will people think?”
“They’ll think we’re getting back together,” Max clarified softly, “Doesn’t that bother you?”
“No,” Liz replied without hesitation after swallowing down the cake. She took a sip of her Sprite before asking carefully, “Does it bother you?”
“Only that people will say all sorts of nasty things about you living here with me without us being married,” Max told her solemnly, “I don’t want you to have a hard time.”
“Max,” Liz said, a relieved smile lighting her eyes, “I couldn’t give a rat’s rear end what people think of me. I only care what you think, okay? Do you want me to move in with you or not?” He pretended to think a moment, stroking his chin. If there had been a space available Liz would have kicked him in the shin. She sufficed at flicking a cake morsel at him. “Stop being an asshole and answer my question!”
Max broke out into a happy grin. “Yeah, I’d like you to come live here with me.”
“You do?” Liz queried breathlessly, “Really?”
“You’re my favorite person in the whole world, Liz,” Max whispered, covering her hand with his own, “I couldn’t think of a better roommate and the added bonus is that I get to see you everyday. I’m going to get to watch our baby grow inside you.”
“Yeah, she’s growing alright,” Liz agreed, rubbing an absent hand across the slight swell of her belly.
“Well, you can hardly tell it,” Max replied, “You’re so little still…I’m just all excited about when you actually start to show.”
“I’m showing now.”
“You are not,” Max laughed.
“No, seriously,” Liz insisted, “You can’t see because I’m in clothes but when I’m naked you can definitely tell.” The moment the words left her mouth Liz’s cheeks ripened with color. Her blush prompted Max’s and he dropped his gaze to the countertop, a sudden lump of desire forming in his throat. Just her brief mention of being naked filled Max’s head with a jumble of images he found difficult to shake. He was suddenly overcome with the mad desire to see her, not just her belly but also her entire body. Max wondered what other changes had taken place since the last time he’d seen her nude, what new curves and hollows had emerged for him to caress. He mentally shook himself, realizing the unwholesome direction of his thoughts and cleared his throat expansively. “I’ll…uh…just take your word for it,” he grunted thickly. Neither of them said another word for a long time to come.
Yup, living together was going to be a blast.
Liz thrust the flowerpot into Max’s unsuspecting arms. “What the hell is this?” he demanded as she breezed past him right into his apartment.
“It’s a cactus,” Liz provided in flippant distraction, “What does it look like?” She hadn’t expected to find his apartment so bare. Save for the purple beanbag in the middle of his living room the place was completely empty. Liz felt the urge to throw up her hands in exasperation. She just knew this moving out business had been a bad idea from the start! He didn’t even have a place to sit. Liz whirled to face him. “Where’s all your furniture?” she demanded sharply, “I thought you told me you had everything you needed.”
“I do have everything I need. The furniture hasn’t been delivered yet, mein furor,” Max explained dryly. He offered her a snappy salute before following up with a question of his own. “So what’s this plant for?” He stared down at the prickly shrub in distaste.
Liz crept around in the hallway, sneaking surreptitious peaks into the back bedrooms. They were naked of furniture as well. But at least the bathroom had a stock of clean towels, Liz noted ostentatiously, that was better than nothing, she supposed. “The cactus is supposed to be a housewarming present, Max…duh!”
“But didn’t you already give me a coffee maker and dishes,” Max protested, his lip curled with mild revulsion. “I really don’t think that a plant is necessary.” He carefully placed the cactus onto the floor, running his fingers along the prickly spines. It wasn’t exactly the type of thing a person would find in a bachelor pad. “Liz, you know I don’t do plants,” he scolded, “The last time I had a plant it was a bean sprout for Ms. Abernathy’s sixth grade science class and that died after two days.”
Liz skipped back from the hall and crouched down beside him, clapping a reassuring hand onto his shoulder. “Max, this is a cactus,” she told him smugly, “Even you can’t kill it. Besides I think it’ll brighten up the place.” Max didn’t look at all convinced. He wasn’t exactly sure he wanted his place brightened up. That sounded too perky, too girly. He glared down at the cactus as if he expected it to break into song at any moment. Ignoring his look, Liz asked him softly, “So how are you liking your new digs?”
At her inquiry Max finally managed to tear his attention from the unwanted plant. “The neighborhood’s nice,” he admitted, falling back on his haunches, “My next door neighbor brought me a cake this morning. She’s a sweet old lady. I think I might check on her from time to time.”
“I’m not surprised,” Liz commented with a twinge of pride, “You’ve definitely got that Knight in Shining Armor thing down to an art form. And,” she added, quickly changing the subject, “I’d definitely have to agree about the neighborhood though. It’s much nicer than that last place you looked at,” Liz agreed cheekily, “I thought somebody was gonna gut my car while you were in there talking to the resident manager.”
Max rolled his eyes at her comment and pushed to his feet. “Such a comedian,” he groused.
Liz shrugged, straightening as well. “I give it to you straight, remember?”
“Don’t let it go to your head, Parker,” Max snorted with a laugh as he ambled off for the kitchen. He rummaged through the refrigerator. “Do you want some water or soda or something,” he asked, “Maybe a piece of cake? It’s chocolate…I know how you’re going for that right now.”
“Actually I’ve moved on from my chocolate phase,” Liz informed him, a smug grin spreading across her glowing face, “I’m into cherries now. Maraschino cherries, to be exact.”
Max paused in the act of cutting his own slice of cake, swiveling around halfway to face her. “Okay, first it was mushrooms, then chocolate, and now you’ve moved onto cherries?”
“Well, I’m still into the chocolate, but I prefer the cherries.”
“And the mushrooms?”
“That’s over,” Liz replied with a repulsed shudder, “What was I even thinking then?”
Max chuckled at her expression, sucking the dabs of chocolate frosting from his fingertips. “God, you and your cravings,” he laughed ruefully, “I’ll never understand them. So you still haven’t told me…is it yes or no to the cake?”
“Yes, to the cake,” Liz replied excitedly.
“You want a drink, too,” Max prodded wryly, “Or have you sworn those off, as well?”
“Do you have any glasses,” Liz countered glibly.
He tossed a sour glance at her over his shoulder. “You know I do, Parker,” he returned dryly, “You gave them to me.”
“Oh, that’s riiiiight I did,” Liz drawled as she skipped into the kitchen. She slipped onto a barstool and braced her elbows against the countertop, watching Max as he poured both their sodas into tall, iced glasses. “I want you to remember what an exceptional friend I am when I ask you what I have to ask you.”
“I knew you had an ulterior motive for being here,” Max replied laconically, “No way you’d hightail it halfway across town straight from school without wanting something.”
“Now hear me out before you start getting all suspicious,” Liz admonished, throwing up her hands in mock surrender. Max took a sip of his Coke and regarded her with speculative eyes. He pulled up his own barstool and flopped down onto it, waiting patiently for her to begin. “So I know you’re looking for a roommate…”
“…Yeah,” Max agreed slowly, “I thought it might help to defray some of the cost of this place. We talked about this already.”
“That’s right we did,” Liz said, “But we never discussed why you’re looking when you have a perfectly good roommate sitting right in front of you.”
Max threw back his head and expelled a long-suffering sigh. “How did I know you were going to say that?” he moaned.
Subconsciously, he’d been waiting for her to broach the subject since he first informed her he was moving out. Liz had held her tongue when he started his new job, she’d held her tongue when he’d resumed a rigorous exercise regimen, and she’d even held her tongue about his moving out into his own two-bedroom apartment. However, Max should have known she had an ulterior motive for her passivity. She’d been much too quiet when he batted around the idea of a roommate.
A chesire smile curved the edges of Liz’s mouth as she watched Max’s thoughts flicker expressively across his face. “It actually makes perfect sense,” Liz reasoned, “You need a roommate and I need a place to stay.”
“You’re talking about living together, Liz!” Max cried.
“I know,” Liz trilled giddily, “Isn’t it brilliant?”
“You’re completely demented.”
“Max, think about it,” Liz propositioned, “You don’t have to worry about being a part-time dad because the baby and I will be right here. And you won’t miss any of the important moments of this pregnancy…you know, the first kick and watching me grow…you’ll be there firsthand. Don’t you want that, Max? I know I do.”
“Liz, you have to realize that this is the worst idea ever.”
“Why?” she demanded tartly, “It worked for Ross and Rachel on Friends so why can’t it work for us?”
Max contemplated thudding his head against the countertop a couple of times. “First of all,” he explained patiently, “Ross and Rachel are fictional characters. And second of all, Rachel just moved out so that doesn’t even count.”
“Okay, well Ross and Rachel aside,” Liz replied dismissively, “We can do this. We’ve lived together before so we already know what to expect from each other…plus you never have to worry about me leaving you high and dry for the rent.”
Max hung his head forward in exasperation. She was oversimplifying the situation so greatly that Max had to resist the urge to laugh in hysteria. Didn’t she see that her suggestion was doomed to failure? They had only just rediscovered their friendship again and, though Max still had a strong attraction for her, he knew that was all he could offer at the moment. But the fact did remain that his feelings toward Liz weren’t entirely friendly and that truth was difficult to ignore.
Living with her had tested the reins of his restraint but fortunately Maria had been there to serve as a buffer. However, there would be no one to buffer if Liz came to live with him here. His resistance would crumble in a matter of days. There would be absolutely no way he’d manage to keep their relationship purely platonic. But then Max suddenly asked himself why he would even want to.
They were getting along; perhaps better than they had ever before. And he was hoping to progress forward in their relationship so… “You want to move in here with me?” Max questioned just for further clarification.
“I’ll be the best roommate you ever had,” Liz vowed.
“And if we become more than roommates?” Max prodded.
“Isn’t that the point?”
Max shoved his uneaten slice of cake in front of her. “Eat,” he ordered sternly, “The more you talk the more sense you make to me.”
“You know it’s a good idea,” Liz deduced knowingly, “otherwise you wouldn’t be trying to shut me up right now.”
“You don’t think it will be awkward living together considering the circumstances?”
“What circumstances?” Liz wondered blankly.
“We’ve been married and divorced, Liz,” Max reminded her pointedly, “We’re also expecting a baby very soon.”
“Which makes us perfect roommates,” Liz concluded around a mouthful of chocolate cake.
“Don’t you care what people will think, Liz?” Max asked.
Liz shoveled in another forkful of cake. “What? What will people think?”
“They’ll think we’re getting back together,” Max clarified softly, “Doesn’t that bother you?”
“No,” Liz replied without hesitation after swallowing down the cake. She took a sip of her Sprite before asking carefully, “Does it bother you?”
“Only that people will say all sorts of nasty things about you living here with me without us being married,” Max told her solemnly, “I don’t want you to have a hard time.”
“Max,” Liz said, a relieved smile lighting her eyes, “I couldn’t give a rat’s rear end what people think of me. I only care what you think, okay? Do you want me to move in with you or not?” He pretended to think a moment, stroking his chin. If there had been a space available Liz would have kicked him in the shin. She sufficed at flicking a cake morsel at him. “Stop being an asshole and answer my question!”
Max broke out into a happy grin. “Yeah, I’d like you to come live here with me.”
“You do?” Liz queried breathlessly, “Really?”
“You’re my favorite person in the whole world, Liz,” Max whispered, covering her hand with his own, “I couldn’t think of a better roommate and the added bonus is that I get to see you everyday. I’m going to get to watch our baby grow inside you.”
“Yeah, she’s growing alright,” Liz agreed, rubbing an absent hand across the slight swell of her belly.
“Well, you can hardly tell it,” Max replied, “You’re so little still…I’m just all excited about when you actually start to show.”
“I’m showing now.”
“You are not,” Max laughed.
“No, seriously,” Liz insisted, “You can’t see because I’m in clothes but when I’m naked you can definitely tell.” The moment the words left her mouth Liz’s cheeks ripened with color. Her blush prompted Max’s and he dropped his gaze to the countertop, a sudden lump of desire forming in his throat. Just her brief mention of being naked filled Max’s head with a jumble of images he found difficult to shake. He was suddenly overcome with the mad desire to see her, not just her belly but also her entire body. Max wondered what other changes had taken place since the last time he’d seen her nude, what new curves and hollows had emerged for him to caress. He mentally shook himself, realizing the unwholesome direction of his thoughts and cleared his throat expansively. “I’ll…uh…just take your word for it,” he grunted thickly. Neither of them said another word for a long time to come.
Yup, living together was going to be a blast.