Page 89 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?
“So the stereotype is accurate.”
“Incredibly.” She sighed, the sound of Ella’s voice making her yearn for more time. “How was your day? I hate not seeing you.”
“You will. Soon.” A pause. “And maybe I can come up to the hospital tomorrow and keep you all company, maybe put together a little gift basket of some essentials.”
Max squinted at the road, imagining her mom’s reaction. “Yeah. Maybe so,” she said, knowing that it might not be the best idea for Ella to make an appearance. “I’d better say goodbye. Traffic ahead.”
“Hey, be safe, okay? And make sure you eat something. Are your clothes warm enough?”
Max smiled, touched at the way Ella cared for her. She was a thoughtful and nurturing human. “Thank you. I have my suit jacket.”
“Even better,” Ella said in her playfully sexy voice. She did love Max in her work clothes. “Keep me updated, okay? I’ll be thinking about you all. Oh, and call if you need anything, and I can drive it over.”
“You’re awesome, you know that?”
“No. Say it daily.”
Max laughed and opened her mouth to say more. It was the moment in a call when two people might sayI love youbefore saying goodbye. The truly startling part was how natural it would have felt for Max to take that risk.
She could almost hear herself saying it. No panic, no rehearsal. Just the truth.
And that was the part that caught her off guard. Not the feeling itself, but how easy it suddenly seemed. Howright.It was shocking to realize she was here, reaching for something that she’d just months ago sworn she didn’t want or believe in. She honestly didn’t think it was possible.Not after everything. Not after the way things had unraveled before. And yet, here she was. Wanting to say it. Knowing she could.
She needed a minute. A little more time to get used to the idea that she could want this. That shedid.
So instead, she steadied her voice. “I will,” she said. “Thank you.”
A breath.
“Goodnight, Ella.”
“Goodnight, Max.”
She ended the call and left the AirPod in her ear, the urge to speak still humming through her like static. She hadn’t said it. Not yet.
But the words were there now, waiting. And so was she.
TWENTY-FOUR
The Who Chef
Max hadn’t made it to book club that Tuesday night. Her family had still needed her, and with them, she was 100 percent where she should be. Didn’t mean that Ella didn’t miss her. The discussion that week had been relatively tame. The Weepers rarely agreed, but this week was an exception. The book of the week,Hot Girl, Cold Brew, left them collectively underwhelmed. Without a debate or Max, the book club felt a little tepid. Stevie and Olive spent much of it making eyes at each other, no longer hiding their feelings in front of the others, which made Ella miss Max all the more. She missed their private exchanges, how one would shoot the other a smile when something funny was said, or wide eyes when something surprising was revealed. Those little check-ins had begun to matter to Ella, and she would never take them for granted again.
“So, how is Max’s mom doing?” Ariana asked, as they stood at the sink, rinsing out their glasses so Stevie wasn’t left with all the work.
“Oh. Much better. She’s scheduled to come home later this week.” She placed her glass on the drying rack and frowned, remembering the gift basket she’d meticulously assembled withhandpicked items she’d found at a variety of stores on the main drag. The soft hand towels. The hand-carved bars of soap from a lavender farm in Kansas. The cooling eye mask. Lip balms and much more. She’d hoped very much that Dr. Wyler would find comfort in the array and had been happy to put in the time. But every time she’d tried to bring the basket by the hospital to say a quick hello, Max had a reason it wasn’t the best time. And that was fine. It was normal to monitor visitors. She was getting in her own head about it and wondered if seeking a second opinion might snap her out of it. She paused and turned, hesitating.
“What’s up?” Ariana asked, likely sensing her unease.
“Um. It’s probably nothing, but is it odd that Max doesn’t want me to bring a gift basket to the hospital?”
“No.” Ariana shifted her lips to the side as if pondering further. “Not entirely. Some people prefer their privacy when they are not feeling well. Max’s mom is someone who likes things to a high standard, and Max has always been the little kid wanting to please her.”
Ella nodded, latching onto the logic. It made total sense when she heard Ariana express the sentiment out loud. “You’re right. I’m overthinking all of this, probably because I have a little relationship PTSD. I need to work on my confidence and trusting what we have going.” She leaned her back against the counter. “I think I’ll just drop the basket at the front desk or send it with Max. There’s no reason I need to deliver it personally.”
“I think she’ll love the gesture,” Ariana said, lowering her head to find Ella’s gaze, which had been on the swirly pattern of Stevie’s aqua countertop. “You did a nice thing, and she knows that.”
She met Ariana’s gaze and forced a smile, reminding herself that none of this was about her. “You’re completely right.” The Wyler family was going through something difficult and likely needed space. She could easily provide that for Max and wouldbe ready when she needed something. Not that standing on the outside looking in was easy. She swallowed, hands sliding into the back pockets of her faded blue jeans.
