by Angel Smits
He led the way to the front room, not Maxine’s usual place. It was a room primarily for show. He paused at the doorway, gently touching Lauren’s arm and waving her a few steps into the hall.
He shocked her by signing, quite proficiently. “She and Wakefield were lovers a long time ago.” He paused, a bright blush on his cheeks. “Bad of me to tell you.”
Lauren wasn’t sure which shocked her more. Hudson’s signing or Maxine’s history with her attorney. “You sign?”
The older man looked chagrined. “How do you think I kept up with you two all these years?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“My secret weapon.” He looked entirely too pleased with himself. They stared at each other for a minute, the world shifting around them. “She’s very hurt.” He pointed to the open doorway. “Help her.”
“I’ll try,” she signed and turned to join her foster mother, still feeling a bit off-kilter.
Maxine looked up as soon as Lauren’s heels hit the wooden floor. “Oh, there you are, dear,” she said so Lauren could read her lips. The older woman’s eyes were red and her normally perfect makeup was badly disturbed. A large hat box sat on the sofa beside her, the lid open, showing a stack of papers. Moving closer, Lauren saw cards, letters, photographs and other memorabilia. One of the photos was of Maxine and Wakefield, both of them much younger.
It looked like an innocent photo, and Lauren remembered seeing it somewhere before. But now, after what Hudson had said, she saw it differently. It wasn’t just a candid cocktail party shot. There was a glint in their eyes, a secret wafting between them.
Lauren settled on the other end of the couch and waited. Maxine’s tears began anew, and she grabbed for another tissue. A pile of the white fluffy things already lay scattered across the tabletop.
“I’ll miss him,” was all Maxine said, as tears flowed down her cheeks.
Lauren moved the hat box and scooted next to Maxine, slipping her arms around the woman’s thin shoulders. Maxine laid her head on Lauren and let herself cry.
How many times had Maxine been the one to comfort Lauren, when kids made fun of her, when her heart was broken, when she lost a part in a ballet production? She couldn’t remember Maxine ever crying or being this upset. Angry, yes, but never this.
“Thank you,” Maxine signed. She sat there a moment, then pulled away, but not ready to let go of the comfort yet, she curled her fingers around Lauren’s.
Maxine picked up another photo and showed it to Lauren. This one she’d never seen before. Someone had managed to take a photo of Maxine and Wakefield in a very hot and heavy embrace. Shocked, she tried to look away, but couldn’t help staring. That was here. In this room. Was that why Maxine was in this room now?
“My graduation party.”
Lauren recognized the decorations in the background. Maxine blushed. “He was good to you.”
Maxine nodded and wiped at her tears again. When she looked at Lauren, hurt filled her eyes. “I miss him. I don’t want to do this.”
“I know.” Putting her fingertips to her forehead, slowly tapping the sign, Lauren was reminded of Hudson’s furrowed brow. Once again, she felt the world shift. She wasn’t the kid, hurt and crying—she was the comforter now.
Just then, Hudson came in and announced that lunch was ready, speaking and in sign. Then he did something else totally out of character. He came over to the couch and offered his hand to Maxine, assisting her up and escorting her to the dining room.
Lauren sat there and stared. Everything around her was changing. And she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.
* * *
“UH, BOSS?” SUSAN poked her head around the door frame.
When Jason looked up, she started to speak. “There’s a—”
An elderly woman swept into his office just then, cutting off Susan’s words and filling the room with her personality.
Petite, with perfectly coiffed hair, and nails the color of blood, the woman strolled right up to the edge of his desk as if she owned the world. She extended one of those claw-tipped hands. “I’m Maxine Nightingale.”
Jason shot to his feet, his mama’s manners drilled in too deep to deny. “Hello, ma’am.” He had no idea who she was, but the look she gave him said he should.
Susan shuffled across the office, coming up beside him. She cupped her hand along her face and whispered loudly, “The ballerina. You know. She’s famous.” The last word came out so loud, even he winced.
“Ah,” he took the woman’s hand and gently shook it. “Another ballerina.” The other one had haunted his waking and sleeping hours ever since that sweet kiss. He was tired today, having tossed and turned every night since.
He nodded toward the door, indicating to Susan that she could leave. His normally obtuse assistant stepped toward the door, but didn’t leave, just stared at the older woman with wide, awe-filled eyes.
“Susan, you can get back to work now.”
“Uh, yeah, I...” Susan turned to go then hastily went back to the woman. “Can I, uh, get an autograph?”
“Susan.” Jason was fairly certain he would have to shove her bodily out of the room.
“No problem, dear. I’ll stop at your desk on the way out.” Maxine’s smile could only be described as benevolent.
“Thank you.” To him Susan said, “I’m leaving.” She even remembered to close the door behind her. Miracle, that.
“What can I do for you, Ms. Nightingale?”
“Call me Maxine.” She settled in one of the chairs facing his desk, gracefully crossing her legs and meeting his stare.
He didn’t have time for a meeting right now. “I only have ten minutes, then I must leave for court.”
“Oh, this won’t take long.” She looked up at him. “You see, my attorney has—” She faltered and had to clear her throat. “Recently passed away, and I find myself in need of your services.”
“I’d be glad to set up another meeting—”
“Oh, we’ll do that, my dear, in due time. I needed to meet you before we get to business. And—” She looked around. “I never discuss such things in offices. Too sterile.” She actually shuddered.
Jason took a long look at the woman seated before him. He was definitely missing something here. He just wasn’t sure what.
“Why did you choose me?” Maybe her answer would tell him something.
“Lauren has mentioned your name. A couple of times actually.” The silence was thick. He got the impression she wasn’t telling him everything.
“Lauren Ramsey? Do you work with her?” Though Susan had identified Maxine as a ballerina, that didn’t mean it was the only way she knew Lauren.
“Oh, no.” Maxine laughed and fidgeted with her purse handle, not because she was nervous, but as an obvious ploy to make him wait. “Not for years anyway. She hasn’t needed me for some time.”
Her voice suddenly sounded wistful. Jason settled in the desk chair, not relaxed, but on the edge of the seat. He waited. She had more to say.
“Lauren is my daughter.” She fidgeted more. “Excuse me, foster daughter. I’m here to make sure she’s not making any mistakes, if nothing else.”
He leaned back in the chair, watching Maxine with a less than trusting eye.
“She said you handled her father’s estate, and helped with Dylan.” Maxine smiled. “Surely, she has told you about me?” Her hope was obvious.
Lauren hadn’t mentioned a thing, but that didn’t mean much. They’d merely had one “official” date and he’d only been taking ASL classes for a few weeks. “We haven’t had that many in-depth conversations,” was all he told Maxine.
Her eyes dimmed a bit. “I see. Do you know sign language?”
“I’m learning. Slowly.” He wouldn’t lie.
She nodded,
her expression brightening. “Do you have any idea of who I am?”
He wasn’t sure what this was about, and he didn’t have time to find out. He stood and gathered the files he’d been working on when Maxine had barged in. “I’m afraid the ballet world is as new to me as sign language. But I’m learning. And I really do need to leave.”
“I understand.” She stood as well, waiting until he led the way to the door. “I’ll be at the Scarlett Tea House tomorrow afternoon at four.” She walked out into the lobby. “I’d like to invite you to join me. They have the best high tea. We can discuss details then.”
Despite her lack of stature, the woman intimidated him. “I— Details? Of what?”
“Why, your representing me, of course. Now that Wakefield has made the unfortunate journey to the great beyond I need someone to handle my estate.”
“Oh, what good timing,” Susan piped up from her desk. “You don’t have any appointments tomorrow after two. I’ll put that in your calendar,” she offered and started typing.
“Why, thank you.” He choked out the words and wondered what they’d really discuss if he went to that meeting. He headed toward the elevator, indicating that Maxine could precede him.
“Oh, thank you, dear.” Maxine smiled too brightly. “But I did promise this lovely young lady an autograph. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Jason took the opportunity to escape, sending up a silent prayer that he’d have a practice left when he got back. He fully intended to have a chat with Susan.
He sighed. He needed to focus. He had a hearing to get through, and then he hoped to talk with Lauren tonight. He didn’t have time to worry about what this woman really had in mind.
But Lauren didn’t answer any of his texts that evening and he felt like a stalker when he drove by the darkened studio on his way home.
Despite his reluctance to go to the meeting, he found himself driving to the Scarlett Tea House the next afternoon. If nothing else, he was curious about Maxine and her relationship with Lauren.
New experiences were becoming the norm in Jason’s life. First the ballet. And now? High tea? He seriously needed to book a flight home soon and schedule some beer and ranch time with his brothers.
The front doors of the Scarlett Tea House were as frivolous as he expected. According to the internet the Victorian house had never actually been a home. It had been built in this style specifically to be a tea house a hundred years ago.
He strode inside, purpose in his step and as much swagger as he could muster.
The Scarlett Tea House had been a well-known celebrity hangout a decade ago. It was still an elegant place where wheeling and dealing happened, but not with the younger set.
Lacy curtains, white tablecloths and dainty furniture made him wince. It was one thing to envision himself as the bull in a china shop—it was totally different to be one.
Maxine sat near the largest picture window, clearly showcased in the afternoon light. The elderly woman sat regally in one of those tiny chairs, wearing a bright red suit, as if she were part of the decor, with a floral-decorated teapot at her elbow. He made his way—carefully—through the maze of tables until finally reaching her side. “Maxine. Hello.”
“Oh, Jason. Please, have a seat.” She waved across the table toward a chair that didn’t look big enough for his nephew, Tyler, to perch on, much less him. He carefully sat.
“Can I pour you some tea?”
He nodded, dreading the idea of trying to drink from one of the dainty cups and not fall off the chair he was so precariously perched on. But he couldn’t think of any way to politely decline. They probably didn’t serve whiskey here.
He sipped the brew from the paper-thin china cup, and once he’d done his due diligence, he carefully put the cup back on the saucer.
He had only met Maxine the one other time, yet he liked her. Liked the fact that she cared enough about Lauren to be curious about him. But while he liked her, trust had to be earned.
Movement at the doorway suddenly caught Jason’s eye. He glanced over, surprised to see Lauren standing there, her gaze intense. She strode through the delicate tables without any evidence of the trepidation he’d felt.
“What are you doing?” She faced Maxine, signing with broad angry movements, which made it easier for him to read her sign.
Maxine wasn’t fazed. “Interviewing my new attorney,” she said. “How did you know where we were?”
“H-u-d-s-o-n. He has no secrets now.”
Maxine sighed and carefully set the fragile teapot down. “Join us.”
Lauren waved at the waiter as she pulled a chair from the next table. She picked up a place setting and made room for herself. She sat down with a thump.
If he hadn’t been stuck in the middle of what looked like two very headstrong women, Jason might have sat back and enjoyed the show. Growing up with three sisters, he knew better than to say a word right now.
The waiter brought a second teapot and settled a dainty cup and saucer in front of Lauren.
Lauren signed quickly to Maxine. The older woman looked over at Jason then spoke as she signed. “I know it’s only been three days. But if Wakefield taught me nothing else, it was that business comes before pleasure.” Pain flashed across the woman’s features, but was quickly masked.
“Unless there’s something urgent, we can wait—” Jason began, pausing when Maxine glared at him.
Lauren faced him, and while her frown was less angry, she was struggling. “She may h-i-r-e you. She’d be stupid not to.” Lauren glared at Maxine. “But she’s really checking up on me.”
“I am not,” Maxine said. “But since you brought it up, is there anything I should know?”
“No,” Jason said and Lauren signed at the same time. Maxine’s knowing smile made the color rise in Lauren’s cheeks.
To ease Lauren’s discomfort, Jason reached out and covered her hand with his. He squeezed Lauren’s hand gently, then withdrew it so he could sign and speak to Maxine. “We only recently met. I enjoy her company. I’m not going to do anything to hurt her.”
Maxine took her time sipping her tea. She glanced at them both before setting her cup down to speak and sign. “I am worried. Lauren is as close to a daughter as I have.”
“I’m a grown woman.”
“Who takes unnecessary risks. Building a studio in the ghetto. Staying out late with strange men. No offense.” She nodded to Jason.
Maxine’s tone was lost on Lauren, but Jason heard the disapproval mixed with motherly caring in it. It sounded a lot like his mom, and a stab of grief caught him off guard. He missed her.
“I’m sure she knows you’re capable,” Jason spoke, facing Lauren. “It’s normal to worry.” He wouldn’t say anything against the studio—he knew how much she loved it.
Lauren sat for a minute, then took more time pouring her tea. It reminded Jason of Maxine playing with her purse yesterday to stall. Interesting.
“The studio is doing well.” He understood her sign this time.
“And I’m proud of that, dear.” Maxine reached out to pat Lauren’s hand. “But that doesn’t stop the worry.”
“Why did you bring Jason here?” Lauren signed quickly.
Maxine smiled. “To check him out.” When she got the knee-jerk reaction she must have known Lauren would make, she laughed. “And honestly, to hire him. I’m serious. I need to get this taken care of.” Jason wondered if they even remembered he was there. He didn’t remind them.
“Why?” Concern hastened Lauren’s fingers. “Is something wrong?”
Maxine shook her head. “Nothing new. You know how many people I’ve lost lately. What if—” Her voice broke and her fingers paused. “What if I go like Wakefield? Just go to sleep...”
“That won’t happen.” Lauren shook her head.
&nb
sp; “It could.”
The silence and stillness stretched out. As if on cue, the waiter came over with a tray of tiny sandwiches and cakes. Jason just stared. They weren’t even big enough for a full bite. The man took his time explaining the selection with practiced hand waves toward each. Both women sat waiting, neither signing nor asking for an interpretation. The way Lauren selected specific ones told him she was familiar with them.
Jason stared at the food. Lauren’s hand on his arm made him look at her. She pointed at a couple. “Try these.” Using the dainty server, she put several on the plate and handed it to him.
He had to admit they were tasty, but the entire serving tray wouldn’t even fill him up.
Once they finished and the empty tray was whisked away, Lauren faced her foster mother. Maxine tried to pretend she hadn’t noticed, but she couldn’t ignore Lauren tapping her arm.
Jason sat to the side, so reading her sign was a challenge, but he’d done better today.
“You can’t keep interfering. I’m a grown woman. I know what I’m doing.”
“I know that, but—”
“No buts.” Lauren wasn’t budging. “Trust me.”
Maxine fidgeted with the remaining silverware on the table, straightening the mess. The bluster and strong facade wavered for an instant, then she took a deep breath and looked up. The world-class ballerina was back. “Very well.” Maxine slowly stood, gathering her purse. She looked at him, then said. “I’ll be in touch.”
Jason was surprised to see an elderly gentleman appear. After handing Maxine a receipt, he signed a greeting to Lauren, then took Maxine’s arm and led her out of the room.
“That’s H-u-d-s-o-n,” Lauren explained. “Her b-u-t-l-e-r.”
Who had a butler in this day and age?
“I’m worried about her,” Lauren signed. “I can’t give in to her need to m-e-d-d-l-e. Took too long to get this far.” She stared after the couple until they were gone out the front door. Then she stood to go.
“Need a ride?” he asked as he stood as well.
