Page 102 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?
“It’s not exactly an engagement,” Max said with a wink. “Not that I wouldn’t marry her. I would. Just so you know.”
“These jeans are very sexy.”
Max smiled and placed a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “You’re trying so very hard, but you don’t have to call me sexy. I relieve you of any obligation.”
“Oh, good,” she said, relaxing. “I’m learning still. I rentedThe L WordDVD from the library.”
“People still have DVDs? The library hasThe L Word?”
“We do,” her mother said. “And they do. Your father’s favorite is Alice.”
Max winced, imagining them watching some of those spicier scenes, now wondering if it was better when they pretended she was straight. Nope. Wasn’t. She tried to lean in. “Alice does have a lot of great lines.”
Her mother patted her arm. “You’re more of a Bette.”
“Is this happening right now?” Max asked, tilting her head and slamming her eyes closed.
“Yes.” Her mother grabbed her purse and stalked out of the house to the Range Rover. “And I’m the wingwoman. Dr. Wingwoman.” She paused on the sidewalk. “Did I tell you I’m seeing patients again next week? Dr. Rivera cleared me to return to work, provided I monitor my energy levels. I’m going to begin with half days.”
“That’s fantastic,” Max said, trailing her mom to the car. “Are you sure you’re up for it?”
“I’m more than ready. I’m at my best when I’m with patients who need me. I can’t think of a faster way to heal.”
Max paused. It was the first time since her initial diagnosis that her mother had alluded to getting better. It was more than wonderful to hear that she was on board and ready to tackle this illness fully, punch it in the face, and get back to life as originally scheduled. “Now that’s more like it. I like the fire in your eyes. Let’s keep it.”
“I’m using it for you today. Let’s go see a book club about a girl. You drive.”
“You sure you want to do this?”
“Does Bette Porter look good in a business suit?” She offered a playful wink and looked straight ahead, waiting for the car to whisk them away.
Max blinked, harnessing her newfound respect for her mom, who was trying hard to make up for lost time. “I could get used to this version of you.”
“I know. Maybe I’ll lead a group.”
“I recognize project mode when I see it.”
“But less about me, more about our mission.” She rubbed her hands together. “I’m ready.”
Max put the car in reverse and took a deep breath. “Then let’s do this.”
TWENTY-NINE
The Rewrite
The book club selection that week had been exceptionally hard-hitting. The couple had reminded Ella so much of her and Max. Not just in the broad strokes, but in the quiet ache between them. That instant attraction, but the delay in fully admitting what they were feeling. The stubborn main character who refused to be knocked off their ways, paired with someone who saw themself as an underdog. Was the universe trying to tell her something? Even the pivotal fight, where it all came crashing down, landed a little too close for comfort.
“What did you think of the book?” Stevie asked Ella. “You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet through all of our debating.”
“I didn’t like it.” Ella looked around the room at raised eyebrows and understanding nods.
“Rare for you,” Ariana said, squinting. “Does this new, more critical gaze have anything to do with Max, who is suspiciously not in attendance?” She stared straight at the chair Max usually occupied.
Stevie took a bite of a cracker. “She said she’d be late tonight and not to wait.”
“Maybe. Probably. I don’t know,” Ella said. She was on edge. Max wasn’t here, which meant everything felt less shiny. They were in limbo, and she couldn’t take it anymore. She was on the precipice of taking the official leap and giving them that chance Max was asking for, but she needed one more tiny shove. She thought that maybe seeing her again, talking to her, and looking into those beautiful brown eyes might give her the reassurance she needed. And now … she was just mad at the world.
Just then, a car horn sounded.
