“Steve and I did some searching,” Mom said softly to Barb and Brody. “There’s a rape crisis center a couple of towns over. We contacted them, they said they do callouts and they’re waiting for you to phone.” When Barb nor Brody said anything, Mom went on, “Now’s the time to call, to get her some help. I know it goes against the grain to push her after yesterday but it’s the right thing to do.”

“She didn’t call when we asked her to call them before,” Barb whispered.

Mom set the last cup on the counter, got close to Barb and took her hand.

“Then make her,” Mom whispered, “or, better yet, do it for her.”

Barb looked in Mom’s eyes, anxiety, uncertainty and fear in her own then slowly she nodded.

Mom looked to Steve. “Darling, will you give me that number we wrote down?” Steve pulled it out of his pocket, gave it to Mom and Mom asked Steve as she led Barb away, “Can you finish the coffees?”

Steve nodded, let me go and moved to the coffeepot.

I stood swaying, hoping that my gamble would pay off and also hoping that Max would take over for Steve.

He didn’t. Instead, to my surprise, Brody came close, grabbed my hand and walked me to the kitchen table. He sat in a chair and I stood uncertain in front of him with my hand in his. Then he tugged my hand so hard my arm jerked in its socket and with a soft gasp I went down into his lap where both his arms came around me in an embrace so tight it forced the breath right out of me. His face went into my neck, my body stiffened in his arms and my eyes flew to Max who was staring at us with a muscle jerking in his jaw.

Now what did I do?

I pulled in a breath, turned my head and positioned my mouth at Brody’s ear.

“Brody,” I called.

He didn’t answer.

Hesitantly, I put my hand to his hair. “Brody, darling, look at me.”

He did, pulling his face out of my neck and tipping it back, he looked at me and spoke.

“Owe you the world,” he whispered.

I forgot my discomfiture, settled into him and put my hand to his neck. “Brody –”

“She’s my world, my baby sister,” he said. “She’d not be here, if not for you. Owe you the world.”

I didn’t know what to say to that because essentially it was true.

So I decided to change subjects. “Promise me we’re going to have this moment and you’re going to let it go.”

“I’ll never forget,” Brody vowed.

I nodded and said, “Yes, I know, you’ll never forget, I’ll never forget, Max won’t ever forget but after this, will you promise to let it go?”

His eyes held mine for several long moments before his lit and he asked, “If I don’t, will you arrange an intervention for me?”

I felt my mouth move into a mini-smile. “Probably.”

“I won’t have to hug Max, will I?” he went on.

“Maybe, if you don’t let it go,” I threatened. “Cotton, Mick, Jeff and Pete too, since they’re the only men I know in town. Oh wait, today I met George Nielson, I’ll have to invite him along.”

Brody gave me a small grin before it faded but the light in his eyes grew more intense and he whispered, “Then I’ll let it go.”

“Good,” I whispered back.

“Coffee,” Max grunted from close.

I looked up at him to see he was, indeed, close and he was holding a cup to me. I also realized that I was still in Brody’s lap and I mostly realized this because Max was staring at my behind in a way that communicated a good degree of displeasure.

I scooted off Brody’s lap, took the cup of coffee Max was offering with a murmured thanks and made my way to the safe haven of Steve.

No one spoke, even when Mom and Barb came back. Max didn’t get close. Instead, he seemed lost in his thoughts as he stared out the kitchen window to the backyard.

I tried not to look at him doing this but I couldn’t keep my eyes from going to him as I sipped my coffee feeling, for the first time since I walked up the steps to his A-Frame, lost and alone.

I felt this way until Steve got close, slid an arm along my waist and put his lips to the side of my head.

“That couldn’t have been easy, with Charlie and all,” he murmured to me. “Proud of you, doll.”

“Thanks,” I murmured back and Max must have heard, for his eyes came to us, that muscle jerked in his jaw again before he turned back to his intense perusal of the backyard.

***

At Bitsy’s request, I stood in the sliding door of the van that brought her to Barb and Darren’s house. The man I hadn’t met who I saw in the house (his name, I found out, was Burt) was her driver.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Thanks, Nina,” she answered and my head jerked at her words.

“I thought you’d be mad at me, putting you on the spot in there, um –”

“Nope,” Bitsy told me, smiling but there was something sad about it. “You know, all these years in this chair, people still handle me like I’m made of glass. It sucks. Everyone’s always taking care of me. That sucks too. Not once, not even once that I can remember for ten years, did anyone need me, make me feel like I still had something to give.” She reached out a hand to me and I took it before she finished. “In there, I had something to give. You knew my day was shit but you trusted me to do it, you trusted me to be strong enough, you knew Mindy’s problems were bigger than mine and you treated me like a normal person instead of someone made of glass. So, thanks.”

“Um… you’re welcome?” I said on a question, she laughed softly and even her laughter did nothing to lessen the sadness in her features.

The laughter died away, her eyes went funny and she whispered, “Wish you’d come here ages ago.”

I studied her then asked quietly, “You okay?”

She pulled in a breath through her nose, seemed to shake off whatever had hold of her and she nodded. Then her eyes slid over my shoulder before they swiftly shot back to me.

Then for some reason, she whispered urgently, “Take care of Max.”

Her mood had shifted yet again and surprised at her tone, her words and the fervor behind them, I started to turn but heard Max’s deep voice asking, “Ready?”

I nodded to him and then looked back at Bitsy, leaned in, gave her a kiss on the cheek and then moved away. Max moved in, slid the door closed then pounded on the roof twice with his open palm.

When the counselor from the rape crisis center had arrived, Mom and Steve left (this was also in order that Mom could get ready for The Rooster). Shortly after that, Max and I said our good-byes to Mindy, Brody and Barb and we went out with Bitsy and Burt to the van.

Now it was time to go back to the A-Frame.

Max stood by me and watched Bitsy’s van pull away and she and I waved at each other when it did. Max didn’t move, just watched silently. Then without looking at me he walked to the Cherokee. I followed.

He didn’t open my door, just bleeped the locks and I climbed in, buckled up and Max had the SUV out of the drive before I got myself situated in my seat.

We were in town when I hazarded words.

“Everything okay?”

“We’ll talk when we get home,” was Max’s alarming answer.

I wanted to push it, in fact, my palms were itching and words were on the tip of my tongue, I wanted so badly to push it. Something was wrong and I didn’t know what it was. I didn’t even know if I wanted to know what it was. I just knew I had to know. With effort, I kept silent all the way to the house.

Snow had started gently falling by the time we turned into the road that would turn into the other road that led to his house.

Max parked and jumped down. I did too.

He hit the front door far faster than me mainly because he wasn’t wearing high-heeled boots but this could also be attributed to the fact that his legs were a lot longer than mine.

I followed through the open door Max didn’t close. I closed it and my eyes went to him as I shrugged off my coat. He was in the kitchen heading to the fridge. I hooked my coat on a dining room chair and heard the hiss of a cap coming off a beer. I turned to the kitchen and saw him with his head back, taking a drink.

I stopped at the edge of the counter and watched as he dropped his beer hand and leaned into his other hand on the counter.

I pulled up the courage to start. “Max –”

But Max spoke over me.

“I know the situation was extreme but is it too fuckin’ much to ask you not to sit in another man’s lap when I’m standin’ in the room? Scratch that. Is it too fuckin’ much to ask it even if I’m in another fuckin’ state?”

I felt my mouth drop open and my stomach pitch.

“Sorry?” I whispered.

“For what?” Max asked.

Unnerved, I didn’t know what to say, so I stammered, “I… but… but it was Brody.”

“Don’t give a fuck who it was.”

“But –”

“Don’t give a fuck why you did it either, Nina, just don’t do it again. Yeah?”

“He… Max, he pulled me in his lap,” I reminded him. “Under the circumstances, I could hardly pull away.”

“No circumstances are the right circumstances for you to have your ass in another man’s lap.”

I shook my head, those short, quick shakes again.

“Are we… are we really talking about this?” I asked in disbelief.

“Positions reversed, Nina, you were in a room and I had a woman in my lap, would you like that?”

My stomach pitched again at the thought he planted in my head and at the fact he kept calling me Nina.

“No, of course not,” I told him.

“Point made,” he replied curtly.

“Unless it was Mindy or something,” I added.

“I fed Mindy baby food. You’ve known Brody a coupla days. That’s hardly the same fuckin’ thing.”

“In a way, it is.”

“What it is, is, I’ve known you a week and you’re fuckin’ me. You’ve known Brody –”

I lost my incredulity at our conversation and my mild confusion and the fear that I felt whenever he was angry at me and that red film covered my eyes again.

“Don’t you finish that!” I warned.

“Again, point made,” Max shot back.

I leaned in and snapped, “You’re impossible!”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that.”

I glared at him and he held my glare. Neither of us spoke, neither of us moved. I wanted to throw something at him but nothing was in reach and if I had to reach for something I could swear at that moment my entire body would shatter.

Regrettably, I was unable to hold his clear, angry gray eyes so I turned my head, looked into the house and realized there was really nowhere to go to escape him. Except one place. So I went there.

I stomped across the room, my boots loud against the wood floors. Then I stomped up the stairs. Then I stomped to the armchair to see my bag was gone and I stopped, staring at the chair. Then I stomped to the closet, threw open the door and turned on the light inside. I saw my limited amount of clothes hanging next to Max’s, my sweaters tidily folded on the fitted shelves again next to Max’s and my shoes lined up on the tilted rods also next to Max’s. My suitcase was folded up and tucked into a corner. All of my clothes had been laundered and, those that needed it, ironed and so had Max’s.

Caroline was good at her job.

I turned out the light, slammed the door and stomped to the bathroom. I opened the medicine cabinet and saw my toiletries tucked neatly away. Then I opened a drawer in the vanity and saw my makeup. So I stomped back to the door, saw my robe was on a hook at the back and I felt like shouting with glee when I saw it. Then I slammed the door and locked it.

Then I drew a bath and started the long, complicated procedure of giving myself a facial.

What I wanted to do was leave Max’s presence, his house and the state in which he currently resided.

Something else I wanted to do was walk downstairs and scream in his face.

Since I didn’t have a car and since I was so angry I couldn’t trust my own mouth and since my Mom and Steve worshipped the ground Max walked on and they’d planned a romantic dinner a deux at The Rooster thus I couldn’t call them to come and get me, I was stuck with the facial.

So I gave myself the longest facial in the history of me giving myself facials.

The water in the tub was cool but even after the facial, I had not cooled down when I climbed out and toweled off. I lotioned my body like I’d be graded for the endeavor and then I wrapped myself in my robe, grabbed my clothes and boots and walked out.

The house was lit downstairs and up with both lights illuminated on both nightstands but I could see and hear no Max.