Page 6 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?
“I’m going to need your ab routine,” Amanda said. “Yours are popping today.”
“Don’t get too excited. They always look their best in the hour after my workout, and then I watch them slowly fade into oblivion again.”
“You downplay everything, you know that? Own the stellar abs. Take the compliment, at least temporarily.”
“Fine. Thank you,” she said, pointedly. “I’m a queen, and this is my fleeting reign. By lunchtime, the throne will be empty and the kingdom ruled once again by carbs.”
“See? Much better.” Amanda shifted her weight. “Please tell me you’re not taking a male date.”
“No. Never. But she’d love that.” It was true her mom was excessively concerned about Max bringing a woman to dinner and had flat out asked her to bring a man, likely any man she could find.
“It doesn’t have to be someone you’re in love with,” her mom had said. “Make him cute and successful. We’ll spend an evening together and call it a day.” She’d added a laugh to soften the sentiment. In the end, masquerading wasn’t something Max would ever do. She’d attend the dinner alone and answer absolutely every question about herself truthfully, feeling uptight and counting the moments until the party was over. Why? Because it seemed to be built within her to keep her mother happy.
She wasn’t seeing anyone right now, and if she ever was again, maybe she’d handle the situation differently. It wasn’t even about her mother’s own values. Her mom was a champion of the LGBTQ community and their quest for equal rights. Unfortunately, appearances mattered most to Dr. Mayumi Wyler. Optics toppled everything. When her mother had married Max’s very white father, the decision seemed to have fulfilled the quota for family scandal, leaving no room for Max to be a happy lesbian in their shocked midst. At least, that’s what her mother chose to believe. Max, being a no-drama individual, chose not to force the issue. Yet.
Amanda turned to her. “Well, just know that if you want to vent, or grab a drink, or any other kind of stress release youcan come up with,” she took a healthy pause to let that last part settle, “I’m your girl.”
“Thanks, Amanda. I appreciate that more than you know.” Taking her up on that very overt offer wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Those no-strings-attached hookups used to be her favorite. Was she aging out of them at thirty-five? She wanted more than just a quick night with someone these days. Life had to come with a larger meaning, right? At the same time, she had little interest in love and the idea of “always and forever until the end of time.” Nope. Everything had an expiration date. Even perfectly chilled champagne loses its sparkle eventually. “Maybe we could grab lunch sometime soon? Catch up.”
Amanda smiled. “I’d love to, Wyler, and I’m holding you to it.” She offered Max a gentle shoulder bump and headed for the lockers, likely to retrieve her wayward clothes. As if summoned by the mere mention of emotional complexity, Max’s phone vibrated. Her mother.
“Hey,” she said after sliding onto the call. “Just finished at the gym.”
Her mother sighed. “It’s late, Maxine. You shouldn’t be at the gym alone, a woman. It’s not safe.”
“They have security guards, cameras everywhere, and the parking lot is fully lit.” She dropped her brush into her bag and reached for her clean shirt. “Plus, I still have the pepper spray you gave me for Christmas. Haven’t even had to break into the bulk pack of replacements.”
“You have to make better choices.”
“I will. Starting first thing tomorrow.” She offered a grin as if her mom could see it. Anything to keep things light on what was a stressful week for them. The conditions were perfect for a full-on argument she wanted desperately to avoid. Those never went well, and Max always lost. With her mom as primary caregiver and her dad as the cheerleader way in the background,her childhood hadn’t always been easy. She’d learned how to sidestep potential land mines, and this week was full of them. Maybe that peacekeeper quality was the reason she’d gravitated so readily toward mediation. She knew how to avoid an argument, and now she was getting paid to help others do the same.
“The reason I’m calling,” her mother said, “is that I need you to pick up your Lola from the airport at 2 p.m. tomorrow. Do not be late. She’s incredibly nervous about this trip. Do you understand?”
“Of course.” She’d have to move some things around, but this was her grandmother, so she’d figure it out.
“But before that, please swing by the little grocery store on Burrow and MacMillan and grab several bags of ice and bring them to the house. You probably already want to be dressed by then.”
Max paused. The dinner was scheduled for seven, and she knew she would also be expected to help with the final preparations. “Mom, I just want to remind you that it’s still a workday for me. I have a variety of client meetings that have been scheduled for months. These people have rearranged their lives to both be available.” Max’s services were in high demand, and her mediation clients booked out far in advance. “Unfortunately, I can’t cancel the day before.”
“You can if you want to,” she said without hesitation. “I have important patients, too. And when I need the time, they’re rescheduled by Audrey. Or does it not matter to you that Lola is coming to town?” She said the final sentence as if she just couldn’t believe that would be the case. She was a woman who knew how to drive home a point.
Max closed her eyes and paused. “Of course it matters to me. I’ll talk to Sonya and see if we can move some things around.”
“Thank you, Maxine. We’re going to have a fun night.”
She pulled in air because the chances of that were so slim.Steady now. “Yes, we are. Send me that flight information, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Max clicked off the call and stared down at her phone, stealing a moment to regroup, then picked it right back up again. “Sonya, hi. Don’t murder me.” Her assistant and friend never failed to answer her calls. Even after hours.
“Oh, no.”
“Yeah. I need you to work your scheduling magic. Can you take my entire afternoon tomorrow and shove it into the morning? Move the Sandersons to next week. They’re not urgent. That should help.”
“They’re going to bethrilled,” Sonya said, extra precious with that last word.
“If they’d compromised a bit more in our first two sessions, we wouldn’t even need this next one.”
“Sure. They’ll listen to reason. The Sandersons are so levelheaded.” Dry delivery was Sonya’s superpower and one of the reasons Max had met her salary demands years before. Her wit and organizational skills got her that first raise. The two of them had grown closer with each day they’d worked together, having developed a shorthand and communication style that was straightforward and humor-laced. That earned her a second. “I’ll sprinkle legal fairy dust and make it happen.”
