Page 19 of Falling Again
Max nodded, satisfied with Anthony’s explanation. “Then I’m in. That all sounds good to me. Do I attend the next council meeting for the vote?”
“Yep. I’ll have Trudy email you the details. They’ll want a brief bio for the meeting packet, in case no one knows who you are.”
Both men laughed at that, considering Max fed most of the residents of Buckeye Falls at least once a week. Max reached across the table to shake Anthony’s hand. “Thanks, Anthony.” He slid out of the booth and paused. Glancing once more to ensure they were still alone, Max asked, “Is there anything you want to talk about? You seem a little tense.”
Anthony coughed. “I’m fine. Thanks though.”
Max shrugged but didn’t look convinced. “I’m not saying we need to gossip like our wives, but you know I’m here if you need anything. I’d like to think we’re friends.”
Under any other circumstance, Anthony would roll his eyes and pull back from a potential bro-hug situation. Instead, he swallowed the last of his coffee and studied Max and his eager expression. Here was a man who had worked hard and got his wife back into his life. He certainly wasn’t a guru, but Max might have some answers.
“Can I ask you a personal question?” Anthony started, not quite meeting Max’s gaze.
“S-sure. Anything,” Max replied.
“How did you get Ginny back?”
The question surprised both men equally, and Max sat back in his seat. “Wow. Uh, well. I was persistent, but that doesn’t mean I was good at communicating. Communication was––is––a big hurdle for us. Even now, and trust me things are going well, we need to make sure we’re communicating all the time.”
“Huh,” Anthony said, realizing it was a horrible response. “I mean, thanks.” Needing something to occupy his trembling fingers, Anthony spun his mug around in his hands. He still couldn’t look Max in the eye.
Lowering his voice even further, Max asked, “Is everything okay with you and Natalie?”
“Fine!” Anthony exclaimed, a little too fast and loud, causing half the diners in a ten-foot radius to jump at his voice. Anthony offered them a bland smile in apology and turned back to fidgeting with his coffee mug.
“Okay, no worries. But know that if you need to talk, I’m here.”
Anthony was about to respond, to tell Max that he didn’t need to talk to anyone, didn’t need the help, when Helen appeared with a plastic bag. “Here you go,” she said as she hefted the bag in front of him. “Turkey club with sweet potato fries for Trudy, and a chicken salad melt on rye for you, hold the pickle.”
Anthony was stunned. “Are you a mind reader, Helen? That’s amazing.”
Max and Helen both laughed. “No,” Helen chuckled. “I’m friends with Trudy, and I know she’ll rip you to pieces if you don’t bring back her lunch.”
“No argument there.” Anthony stood and pulled his wallet from his pocket.
“On the house,” Max said as he waved away Anthony’s attempts to pay. “Trust me. Buckeye Falls will be a better place if Trudy is fed and happy.” Helen nodded her agreement and went back to the kitchen.
“And seriously, let me know if you need anything,” Max said, rapping his knuckles on the table before following Helen.
Anthony picked up his bag, careful to address diners he recognized on the way out. During the short walk back to town hall, Anthony mulled over Max’s suggestion for help. Was talking it out what they needed? Could it really be that simple? For someone whose job it was to talk and play political hot potato, Anthony suddenly felt like a fish out of water.
