CHAPTER 8
“Oh no, mister, you want to live here, you’ll have to do you share of everything and I mean; cooking, cleaning, washing…” she counted the endless list of household chores on her fingers.
Max stood there with puppy eyes and his bottom lip sticking out like a child.
“I’m not joking, Max I’m not washing your sweaty socks!”
“Hey, my socks do not smell!” he said, throwing a sock over in her direction. She ducked and they giggled as he run over to her and bear-hugged her, sweeping her off her feet and twirling her around.
He took hold of her hands and leaned in to kiss her; she leant back and took in the sweet scent of his kiss; it was hypnotizing. He moved her hands above her head and kissed her from the bottom of her neck to the top of her ear. He whispered seductively, “God I’ve missed you. I thought I had lost you forever. Promise me you won’t ever do that again.”
He let go of her hands and she placed them on either side of his face. “I promise.” She sealed it with a kiss.
Susan stretched her arms out above her head and opened her eyes slowly. Max had left for work early, leaving Susan to get herself up and ready for her meeting with Dr. Holt. After waking herself up with a cup of coffee, she ran herself a relaxing bubble bath, after which she went to sit in the garden and wait for Beth to pick her up.
Dr. Holt greeted Susan with a friendly smile and a handshake before leading Susan over to the desk and instructing her to take a seat. She asked Susan a series and how she wanted to sessions to help her, making Susan feel more in control than she imagined she would.
“My advice, Susan is that for the moment you should keep a daily diary. Try to focus on one key factor we have discussed and then when you come in again, we can look through it together. How does that sound to you?” Susan flashed a smile and nodded.
Dr. Holt folded her arms across her chest. “Now, one more thing before you go, you briefly spoke about how you use alcohol to steady your emotions; I really feel you need to find something else to help you control your emotions. Do you have any hobbies? If you’re interested, we have some wonderful social groups; you could join in the cooking group, or we have an art group – anything that will help you take back the control.”
Susan thought for a moment before surprisingly opening up about her passion for art, explaining how her grandmother had taught her a selection of art techniques from a young age. Dr. Holt asked her to give it a try and see if it helped.
After finishing her afternoon coffee with Beth and shopping for supplies, she set up her canvas stand up in the sitting room. Before she knew it, she found herself passionately drawing the afternoon ocean setting. Pulling out the charcoal, she invoked herself into the paper, her fingers franticly rubbing over the image.
Max arrived home to Susan standing in front of the drawing, smiling.
“Hey baby, what have you been up to?” He walked up behind her, placing a kiss on her cheek. His eyes fell on the drawing. “Susan, did you do that?”
“Dr. Holt thought it might help, you know give myself a hobby.”
“Susan that’s amazing; I didn’t know you could draw like that.” The drawing took him by surprise, distracting him from what he set out to ask her.
The week past with more counselling sessions, dates with Max and watching boxsets curled up on the sofa everything felt new and fresh, and Suzanne thought it time that they start to build their home together. Looking at the tired paint on the walls, she excitedly called Max from the kitchen and informed him that they were going to the DIY store. She had decided on a cheery yellow for the kitchen and a warm and cozy chocolate for the living room. Max convinced her to frame the drawing she had done and put it up in the living room.
“Susan, do we really need to all this stuff? We only came in for paint.” Max frowned, loading his car with the new kitchen accessories.
“Of course, I need to get all this; when a woman decorates a room, she needs new accessories to go with the new color; it’s the same with a new dress, you’ve got to buy new shoes and a handbag to match,” Susan teased, as she leant out the car window. Max shut the boot shaking his head. “I’ll never understand the woman’s mind!” “Stop trying to,” she said giggling.
As Max unloaded all the new items from the car, Susan packed the old kitchen away into boxes. She had managed to convince Max that they needed a new kettle and toaster along with new cups, plates, pans and canisters. She dragged the dining table to the other end of the kitchen and began painting, concentrating around the door and window frame.
Max turned the music on and pulled a cold beer out the fridge. Leaning on the counter, her watched her, admiring the view of her working the brush up and down the wall. “My, my Miss Birch, you do look very sexy holding a brush in your hand.”
Susan didn’t answer, she took the brush and flicked it in his direction, spattering yellow droplets all over his crisp white t-shirt. “Now you’re covered in paint, you can grab the roller and help.”
Max walked over to the paint tray with a devilish look on his face. He picked the dripping roller up.
“Max! No!” she dropped the paintbrush into the tray and backed away from him.
Max drew closer. “But you don’t have any paint on you!” He backed her into the corner of the kitchen until she was unable to escape the roller.
“Max! Don’t you dare, I mean it!” She held up her hands to stop him, but it was too late, he ran the roller all the way down the front of her shirt. “Max! I’m going to kill you!”
He turned and ran up the stairs, pulling his t-shirt off as he reached the top step. “Come and get me then.” He wore a seductive smile.
Susan stood on the bottom step slowly unbuttoning her shirt. She reached Max at the top step and pulled him to her until their lips met. Max lifted her up, curling her legs around his waist as he carried her into the bedroom.
“Come on Susan we are going to be late,” Max shouted up the stairs. Max was going to Jessop’s to play snooker and Susan had asked if she could come and watch.
“I’m coming now!” Dressed in black skinny jeans and a vest to with her curls falling over her shoulders. Max couldn’t resist letting out a low whistle.
“Wow! Do we really have to go out?” He wanted to take her back upstairs and make love to her.
“You promised you would take me to watch.”
“Are you sure you want to go?” he asked as he stroked her hair.
Susan pressed the keys into the palm of his hands. “Yes, I’m sure. We have plenty of time for that later, Max.”
“I’ll hold you to that”
*
Susan spent her afternoon watching Max in the garden as he cut the grass; she pretended to be reading but he knew she was checking him out. Just as he was about to hose her down with garden hose, Beth’s car pulled up outside.
“Hey, you two” she waved before grabbing a paper-bag full of patisseries from the bakery. “Beautiful day,” she said pushing her sunglasses onto her head. ‘It sure is!’ Susan thought. ‘About as perfect as it could get.’
Max packed away the lawnmower and Beth followed Susan into the kitchen.
“SOOO, how does it all feel?” Beth asked, sitting down at the table and unpacking the goodies. Susan turned from checking the chicken pie in the oven and flashed a look of confusion in Beth’s direction.
“I mean how does it feel playing house?” Beth said smiling. Susan laughed. “Let’s just say we are settling in just fine.”
“Good – you both look so happy. It’s good to see.”
As the three of them sat down to eat, Beth told Susan about her next appointment and how she felt confident enough to make the trip on her own, although it would still be nice to meet up after lunch. Beth smiled, taking it as a positive sign that Susan was beginning to take control over things.
After tea, Beth and Max cleared the table as Susan headed to the wine rack with the thought of opening a bottle to drink in the garden. Max was
behind her like a shot and whispered, “I’m not sure that is a good idea.”
Susan fired him a look and muttered angrily, “Excuse me!” But she was angrier with herself than Max – he had a point, but she didn’t want to admit it.
“Why don’t I make us some coffee instead?”
“I don’t want coffee!” she replied with gritted teeth. “I want a glass of wine with your mother in the sunshine.” Beth glanced in their direction and continued wiping up. Susan wasn’t finished, “I’m not going to go off the rails and drink the whole fucking bottle you know.”
Max kept his voice lowered, “I know. I know. It’s just that …” With that Susan stormed off into the living room.
She could hear Beth and Max talking in the kitchen in muted tones and she felt a flush of embarrassment. Max deserved better.
Beth came in to thank Susan for lunch, and to say that Max was walking her home. She kissed Susan on the cheek before heading out of the door and leaving her alone. Susan headed upstairs for a shower and a nap. When she came back downstairs Max still wasn’t back. She sent him a text asking what was taking him so long, but she didn’t get a reply.
She sat on the sofa and watched the sea from the window. It was so peaceful; she lost herself in the horizon. The day faded and the house became dark. Still he wasn’t home. She made herself a cup of tea, tried to read, thought about opening the bottle of wine, but didn’t. In the end she headed upstairs. She woke in the morning to an empty bed; her nerves shot with the thought that maybe he wasn’t coming back. She crept along the landing and saw that the door to the spare room was open. Max was tucked up under the covers, fast asleep.
She crept in to the room and climbed into the bed beside him, wrapping her hand around his. She felt his arms come around her waist and he opened his eyes and looked at her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, giving him a small smile and leaning her head on his shoulder.
“I know.”
“You’re right. I know that you’re right,” she said.
He shook his head. “You’re a grown up, you’ve got to make your own choices.”
“I choose you.”
He smiled and stroked her head.
“Good.”
They kissed and before they could think, their hands and bodies took over. Their lovemaking was tinged with anger – which felt good in its own way.
The next morning, Max left for work without waking her to say goodbye and she knew that he was still mad with her. She sent him a text to say, ‘good morning’ and went downstairs to make some breakfast. She had a few hours before her therapy session, and she needed moral support. She phoned Polly.
As ever, Polly was full of wisdom and sense. She told her to relax, and that they were going through a period of adjustment, there were bound to be moments of tension. She told her to stop moping around and fix it – take charge. It was just the thing she needed to hear.
“Thanks, Polly – I’ve got a great idea.”
They finished their conversation with arrangements to meet up for dinner in a couple of days. After finishing the call, she flipped through the photos on her phone and found one of the two of them on the beach together smiling.
She set off early to give herself time to stop off at the chemist to print out the photos. On the walk to the doctor’s office, she passed a little shop and saw just what she was looking for, a lovely photo-frame. She went inside and asked if they had anymore, the women went to look in the back and came back carrying a box.
Pleased, Susan said, “I’ll take the box please, how much?”
Confused the women answered, “Well, ah, let me see, thirty pounds please.”
Susan handed her the money and checked her watch. She had just enough time to swing into the supermarket and grab something nice for dinner. She’d truly screwed up last night and she needed to make it up – big style.
It was her second visit to see Dr Holt. She was also a GP and so as well as a lot to think about, she came out clutching a green prescription slip. She felt uneasy; she didn’t know what to think about being prescribed medication. She wasn’t depressed – she felt happier than she had in a long time.
The meetings with the counsellor were going better than Susan had expected and they agreed that weekly ongoing meeting would be the best option. In their sessions, they would address each aspect of her life with a clear focus point, breaking it down so that it didn’t seem so overwhelming. She felt good afterwards; it helped to know she wasn’t been judged. They also decided Susan should keep a diary of each day and take it with her each week; it was intended to help her overcome the emotions she felt.
On the way to the car park was a small jeweler shop, which pulled her in like a magnet. Staring out from a little velvet cushion was the ring. “It’s perfect,” she said to herself, smiling and feeling like a giddy schoolgirl. It was a simple white gold ring with two diamonds. “Almost perfect.” She pushed the door open and jostled her bags in.
After discussing her idea with the jeweler, they arranged for her to pick it up in a couple of weeks.
At home, Susan put dinner on. Max would be home in an hour, so she had plenty of time to get the rest of the surprise ready. Pulling the photos out, she then pulled out the six photo frames. She smiled with satisfaction. They were gorgeous, silver plated with rose-vines entwined around the frame. She set them all in a row on the table and picked which pictures to put in them. She found the one of the two of them at the beach pulling a silly face, and the one of them in Paris. A nice woman had taken it for them. She also found the one of her that Max had taken as a joke when she was asleep in bed. She put them all in the frames and put them out on the dresser in the living room, before heading upstairs to get changed. She slipped on the purple dress; the one that he couldn’t wait to get her out of last time. She headed over to the mirror and let her curls drop over her shoulders before applying a bit of lipstick. “Ready!” she said, taking in a deep breath.
She heard Max came into the kitchen. “Something smells good,” he called. He was waiting at the bottom of the stairs and gave her a small smile when he saw her.
“Do I have time for a quick shower before dinner?”
Susan looked at him hurt, he hadn’t said anything about her dress or how much effort she had gone too. She nodded and carried on to the kitchen, watching him over her shoulder as he went upstairs. “Take charge!” she whispered, remembering Polly’s words. She turned off the oven and followed him upstairs. Creeping into the bathroom, she let the dress slip to the floor before opening the shower door.
“What the hell are you doing?” Max asked whipping the water off his face. “You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack.”
She stepped into the shower and wrapped her arms around him. “I just wanted to join you,” she said as she kissed his back.
Max spun, wrapped his arms around her and kissed her head chastely. It wasn’t the reaction she’d been hoping for – she’d kind of hoped to be ravished.
“Sweetie, do you mind if I take a shower on my own? I'm tired. I'll be down in a minute.”
He knew that he was pushing her away and being unkind, but his head was crammed full of thoughts; he loved her more than anything – but it wasn’t easy. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to carry her, even though he desperately wanted to.
She climbed out of the shower, stepped over her dress and went to the bedroom to put on her sweat pants. She really couldn’t understand why he was being so distant.
Max joined her in the living room. On seeing the photos, he asked, “Where did all these come from?”
His question had an edge about it – it wasn’t the glee she’d hoped for. She didn’t reply but walked through the kitchen to the garden. She needed fresh air. Max stood alone in the living room staring at the pictures; each told its own story. He smiled at the one of them on the beach; it was the night she had run laughing. Then he saw the picture of her sleeping, he picked it up he carried it with him to the garden �
��Can we talk?” he asked.
She’d been crying. Her beautiful, blue eyes were now all red and puffy – her cheeks rosy with the cold.
“Whatever you have to say, Max, just say it. I’m not playing games anymore and
I’m tired.”
Max held the picture up. “I love this picture of you. Want to know why?” She shrugged.
“I took this the first night we slept together. You looked so peaceful, like an angel. I couldn’t stop watching you. In that moment I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.” He took hold of her face before continuing, “I love everything about you; your eyes, your smile. I love to twirl my fingers in your hair. I love every bit of your body. However, your mind scares me. When I found you drunk in the park, I thought you were dead for fuck’s sake, and then I get you home and you go for the bottle of wine… I just don’t know what to do. Things are a bit of a mess.” He let go of her face and ran his fingers through his hair.
“I understand,” she muttered. Susan looked at him. Since he’d found her, he has been walking on eggshells; they couldn’t live like this. She stood up and held out her
hand. “But things are different. Can I show you something?” Max nodded and she guided him into the house.
When they got in the living room, she took the photo out of his hand and put it back on the dresser then stood back. “I picked these photos for a reason. I know they all mean something to you. I didn’t do this for me, I did it for you.” She walked over to the window and crossed her arms taking in a deep breath.
“Max, I can’t change anything that has happened – I wish you hadn’t found me like that – I wish we could just be normal, but we, I mean I’m not. I’ve got baggage and you know that. I’m trying to deal with it, but I can’t do it alone. The bottle was a mistake. I kid myself that I can have a drink like a ‘normal’ person, and mostly I can, but often I take it to numb the pain – and maybe I have lost sight of the difference.
Max walked over and put his finger on her lips. “You don’t have to explain.”
Something Missing (The True Love Series Book 1) Page 6
