Page 100 of Can We Skip to the Good Part?
Instantly, the tears in Max’s eyes were mirrored in her mother’s. She sat forward and met Max’s gaze. “I loved you so much,” she said emphatically. “Maybe too much. I thought pushing you to be your best self would help you in life. Make you strong.”
“All I needed was for you to believe I was. Once I had that, I would have had everything. I could have moved mountains.”
Her mother exhaled slowly as she reached for a tissue. “I failed you in that,” she said quietly. “And it’s painful to know I can’t go back and fix it. But let me say it now before another minute goes by. I believe in you, Maxine. I always have.”
Max nodded and absorbed the words, or at least attempted to. It would take her time to believe them, but she was willing to try if her mother was. Because they couldn’t go on the way they had. There was too much at stake.
“But, it’s not too late, you know.” She sent Max a wobbly smile, the lines around her eyes more prominent. She appeared older today, smaller. Maybe it was the toll the treatment had taken on her body, or maybe it was because she wasn’t dressedlike Dr. Mayumi Wyler, wearing navy lounge pants and a gray T-shirt without a stitch of makeup to be seen. It crafted an individual who seemed a little less daunting, just a woman across the couch offering what help she could cobble together.
“I hope you’re right,” Max said, her gaze falling to the tan woven rug. Her heart hung heavy, and every part of her held recriminations for how things had gone with Ella on Christmas morning. Correction: how she’d treated Ella that morning. This was all on her.
Her mother reached down the couch and covered Max’s hand with her own, squeezing it tightly. “I have an idea. If you have the time to stay, why don’t I make some hot cocoa? We can watch a few of these family videos and talk about what went wrong between you and Ella.”
Max sat back, struck. “You said her name.”
“Why wouldn’t I say her name?” her mother asked, her brows pulling together.
“You’ve always referred to her as my girlfriend or that woman you’re seeing.”
“I have?”
Max nodded.
“Hmm. Well, it seems I have a few things to work on.”
“Okay, this is too weird,” Max said, holding out her hand like a stop sign. “Now you’re actively admitting you’re not perfect. Is an asteroid about to take us all out?” She feigned looking skyward.
Her mother picked up the remote. “Shhh, and watch the home movies. And after that, I have some ideas about Ella. You have to work in some big moves.”
“Big moves, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
Max smiled, a soft, surprised thing that crept up before she could stop it. Maybe this was what growth looked like. Notgrand gestures or perfect endings, but two people in tough spots, sitting on a couch, watching the past flicker across a screen while figuring out how to show up for an uncertain future.
She settled deeper into the cushions as the tape resumed, the sound of a small voice on the screen calling for her mom. It echoed through the room like a benediction.
They sat on the couch, one cushion between them, letting the story of who they’d been remind them of who they might still become. The ground felt shaky, but for the first time, Max looked over at her mother and wondered if there just might be hope for them.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Books, Blushes, and Whooshes
Ella marveled at the newly installed shelving, slightly less haphazard than the last arrangement, but every bit as packed in as the old store had been. Doug’s Books had come a long way in a short time. The progress was a true testament to the power of the community. It turned out that when people care enough, they can move mountains.
Doug beamed, clearly proud of his new space. “What do you think?”
“You are looking so good, my friend.” She turned in a circle, absorbing the beautiful new touches like the small clock on the wall with numbers made to look like typewriter keys. Due to her unfortunate couch time and self-imposed isolation, she hadn’t been in the store in nearly a week.
“That woman you like is here.”
Ella quirked her head. “The woman I like?”
“With the hair,” he said, swishing his imaginary locks in a sincere method of communication. “She came in a few times to see if you were working on your book covers behind the tablet thingy. You haven’t been here, so she’d buy a book and leave. Sold three so far. Maybe you should stay away.” He offered awink and hefted a box from the floor onto a stepladder. More inventory was beginning to arrive from the distributors, which is one of the reasons she’d forced herself to come in. She’d apparently hired herself as his unpaid employee.
“Max,” she said, peering around a shelf she wasn’t quite familiar with yet. Max knew Ella often opted to work at Doug’s a couple of days a week around this time. Though Ella had no idea she’d been stopping by to see her. A familiar whoosh of excitement hit because she missed Max with every fiber of her being. A second whoosh of nervous energy was right behind it because she didn’t know how to be herself anymore, given her new understanding of how things worked.
“That’s the one. She’s over there next to my new hot titles shelf. I think I’m gonna put a wall of flames around that section, as if the whole thing just ignited from pure heat.”
