To the Max

by Julie Lynn Hayes

  Mother looked up as we approached, rising and greeting us with smiles and hugs, leaving Reverend Fuckface to fend for himself, and told us both how nice we looked—she had to say that to me. She’s my mother, after all. With Richard it’s simply true. “Don’t you just love the decorations? I think Marti’s outdone herself tonight.”

  We concurred, looking about us in tacit approval. There were recreations of some of the pavilions from the Fair in a mural across one wall, with old-fashioned ladies and gentlemen in vintage clothing strolling about the grounds, while overhead could be seen the colorful explosions of fireworks. Very effective. As we oohed and aahed, a liveried waiter bearing a tray full of wine glasses circulated near us, and we managed to snag two for ourselves, one for Mother.

  “Rachel’s here somewhere,” Juliet said, taking her drink from Richard with a smile. “ And that cute little friend of yours, Richard, Maggie. I think she was looking for you.” I flashed her a warning look, intending to nip this in the bud right here right now. No matchmaking. He’s with me; I’m with him. End of discussion. Damn, I hate these things. I’d much rather be at home alone with Richard. Sliding beneath the sheets. Warm oil and play toys. “Are you doing anything Sunday, Max?” Her voice brought me out of my reverie with a blush. She was looking directly at me, as if Richard weren’t even there. Before I could respond, though, Marti was at my side, linking her arm with mine.

  “Mind if I borrow Max for a minute? I have some people who are dying to meet him!” she enthused. What could I do? That’s why I was there after all, so I graciously went with her, glancing back over my shoulder to watch Richard and my mother—they were face-to-face, simply looking at one another. Why did I think of the OK Corral at that moment? I don’t know.

  By the time I had done my duty and hopefully made a good impression on my readers—and not disappointed them in the process—I returned to the spot where I had left my lover and my mother only to find that they had apparently separated. Juliet was back with the man in black, and Richard was I don’t know where. I grabbed another glass of wine as I began to look for him, sipping at it and smiling mindlessly at the people who greeted me as I cased the room, some of them I knew, others complete strangers.

  A hand on my arm caught me unawares, and I turned to find Rachel’s smiling face. “Hello, Rach,” I greeted her. “Mother told me you were here.” I returned her smile. “So, did you come alone?”

  “Not exactly.” She blushed.

  I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that. “What, did you bring Sebastian?”

  “No, actually, Max, I’ve been meaning to tell you. He and I… I mean… we… well, we don’t… we aren’t together any longer.” All of which was a roundabout way of saying that they were no longer fuck-buddies, I presumed. “I’m seeing someone else.”

  “Don’t tell me you finally caught Gary Oldman?” I teased.

  “I so wish!” She laughed. “No, not him. Someone else.” My attention was distracted for a moment by someone calling my name and waving at me—who it was, I wasn’t sure, but I dutifully waved my hand in response—and by the time I turned back, Rachel was beckoning to someone, a tall lean man with light red hair, pale-complected with pale blue eyes, who smiled and came immediately to her side. The first thing I noticed about him was that he had a nice smile, the second that he seemed very smitten with my Rachel. She introduced us, and his eyes lit up in immediate recognition. His name was Mark, by the way.

  “So you’re Max,” he said with that tone of I’ve heard so much about you. “Rachel’s told me a lot about you.”

  “That makes one of us, I’m afraid. She’s kept you a secret.”

  He threw back his head and laughed. It was a pleasant sound, and I found myself liking this man already. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask Rachel what about Sebastian, but it didn’t seem diplomatic under the circumstances. But she seemed to understand my unspoken question as she nodded across the room. I turned in that direction, and what did my wondering eyes behold? Two things actually: there was my Richard, deep in conversation with Maggie, and there was Sebastian himself, with Cat on his arm! Will wonders never cease? I made a mental note to talk to him about her later, even as I smiled at my lover. He caught my eye, smiled back. I heard Rachel’s voice in my ear, laughing.

  “Go on, go on,” Rachel shooed me, “I’m going to introduce Mark around. We’ll catch you at dinner.”

  I didn’t need to be told twice. I probably look like a lovesick schoolboy sometimes, the way I run after Richard. But as I crossed the room I caught a glimpse of my mother and him again, and they were apparently glancing in our direction, and the look on his face spoke volumes while my mother’s mien was unreadable. Defiantly, I threw my arm around Richard’s waist and drew him in to me for a warm kiss. Let them stew over that awhile!

  First round over. Time for dinner.

  Dinner was good. For a grand a plate, it should be. Petit filets. Lobster tails. Swordfish. Chicken Kiev. Fresh asparagus. Saffron rice. Sorbet for a palate cleanser between courses. Very, very nice. Of course the paper was footing the bill for the employees, otherwise none of us would have shown, I suspect, although I wondered at first how Maggie managed to afford it, ’cause she wasn’t on the list of sacrificial goats. And I knew she didn’t have that kind of money. But looking at her face as she looked at Richard, I understood, and I smiled to myself. My generous lover had paid her way, just so that she could be there. Isn’t he sweet?

  I began to relax over the good food and splendid wine. Had a most pleasant conversation with Mark, across and around Rachel, who merely leaned forward or backward as the situation demanded. The more I talked to him, the more I liked him. He and Richard hit it off as well, for which I was grateful. That would make things easier, if we were going to spend time together as couples, which was a natural assumption. Rachel was too big a part of my life not to, after all.

  After dinner, the dancing began, and once more we were in the splendidly decorated ballroom. Richard excused himself to grab a quick smoke. Made me promise him not to dance with anyone else while he was gone, which I did, blushingly. I had to laugh when I noticed that coincidentally Sebastian chose that same moment to do the same thing, seemingly oblivious of one another. I hoped they wouldn’t get into it. Taking advantage of that, though, I approached Cat, probably wearing a shit-eating grin of sorts.

  “Hi, Max.” She smiled at me. “What’s up?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  “Well, the book’s going well, actually, thanks for asking. And work is picking up. I’m getting more hours at the store now.” Cat had gotten a part-time job at a used bookstore. It helped to pay the bills as well as to give her time to write.

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” I arched an eyebrow at her. “I saw who you were with. Spill the beans, woman.”

  Cat laughed softly. I like the way her eyes light up when she does that. She is one of the gentlest souls I know. And the kindest. I’ll kill Sebastian if he hurts her in any way. “Max, I like your cousin,” she said simply. “He asked me if I wanted to go out, and I said yes. That’s really all there is to it.” She looked at me a little anxiously, as if seeking my approval. Of course I gave it. I love Cat, after all. And I love Sebastian. No problem there.

  I hugged her to me. “I think it’s great,” I said. “You’ll be good for him, I think. Try to get him to loosen up, will you? He has the ability to be a real uptight asshole, sometimes.”

  “I’ll do my best, Max,” she promised. “Did you meet Mark yet?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I like him.”

  “Me too.” I saw her eyes flicker past me, but before I could turn to see what or who she was looking at, a pair of hands was over my eyes, and a familiar voice was in my ear, “Guess who?”

  “Hello, Maggie,” I didn’t have to turn to know who it was.

  She laughed and moved her hands. “You guessed, no fair!”

  I grinned. “If you don’t want me to
recognize you, then maybe you should stop wearing Tommy Girl. It’s a dead giveaway.” I turned my head and snickered.

  “Give it up? I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “Where did Richard go?”

  “He’s outside, smoking,” I gestured with my thumb toward the windows. “Hopefully not fighting with Sebastian in the process.”

  “Hopefully,” Cat echoed.

  “Should we check on them?” Maggie sounded worried.

  “No, they’ll be fine. I think they both know better than to start something. At least not here.” I hoped.

  Just then Juliet appeared beside me, greeting the girls with smiles. I could hear the wheels turning now: no sign of Richard and my gay son is talking to two girls, not just one. Mentally I sighed.

  “Mind if I take my son away from you for a few minutes?” she asked, while to me, “Dance with me, Max.” They both demurred, and naturally I agreed. When Richard said no dancing, he meant with other men, women didn’t count, particularly not my mother. I bowed to her most formally, before taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor. And before anyone decides to be cute, yes, I do know how to lead. So stop right there.

  “Having a good time, Mother?” I asked as we danced.

  “Yes, we are.”

  A moment’s silence.

  “Cat’s looking pretty tonight, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, I do. She always does. By the way, did you notice that she’s with Sebastian?”

  “And?”

  “And just wanted to clarify that.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  More silence.

  “Maggie is—”

  “Mother! Don’t start!”

  “I was only going to point out that Maggie is very taken with Richard.” She pretended to pout.

  “Most women are,” I responded, a trifle testily perhaps. “Most men too,” I added in a half-mutter.

  She changed topics quickly, visibly backpedaling. “Have you spoken to Amy tonight?”

  “Amy? Didn’t know she was here.”

  “Oh yes, she’s here. Why wouldn’t she be? She’s part of the paper too.”

  How could I have forgotten? Yes, come to think of it, I had seen her name on the list. But no, I hadn’t seen her. Yet.

  “Oh, there Morgan is. He’s such a lovely boy!” she gushed over the little twerp. I cast a look toward where she was pointing, and there he was, in the flesh. Worse than that, there was Richard, standing next to him, and they seemed to be engaged in conversation. Shitfuck! I felt an immediate greenish tinge over my entire body.

  “What’s he doing here?” I asked even as I tried to diplomatically dance her in that direction.

  “He came with Amy, of course. Max, whatever is wrong with you?” She looked from me to them and back again, and didn’t make any comment, but her thoughts were apparent.

  “Don’t go there,” I warned her. “There’s nothing going on. Nothing.”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “I know. Just telling you.” I gave up my efforts to look anything but jealous and seething, so simply took her by the arm and dragged her after me, rather than strand her on the dance floor. As soon as I came within earshot—earshot for me, that is, which consists of a much larger radius than most people—I began to listen. Well, as well as I could around the music that was playing and the conversational buzz of the people around us. I could hear well enough to hear the words “drinks,” “dinner,” “dancing”—that was enough for me. I dropped Juliet’s hand and staked an immediate claim on what was mine.

  I slipped a possessive arm around Richard, who until then was unaware of my presence. He turned and smiled down at me, while I reached up for a kiss. And received it. And for just a moment, time stood still while we pressed our lips together. ’Til he ruined it. “Max, you should really calm down,” he said in that irritating condescending voice of his. “At your age, you might have a stroke if you get too excited.”

  Only Richard’s restraining hand kept me from leaping at him. Snotty little git. I liked him less and less each time I saw him.

  Morgan gave Richard the most flirtatious smile as he began to walk past him, presumably to look for his aunt, lightly brushing his fingers over my lover’s cheek. “You should try belling him,” he suggested archly. “Talk to you later.” And he was gone before I could fire a shot.

  Damn, damn, damn! I was completely and utterly steamed. And I had forgotten my mother entirely, who was looking at me with something akin to pity in her eyes. How I hate that. But the look she gave to Richard was worse, as if he had done something wrong, which he hadn’t. Without another word, she walked away, showing remarkable restraint for her.

  “Hey, hey.” Richard pulled me closer, wrapped his arms around me. “It’s okay, sweetness, c’mere….” I didn’t say anything, just struggled to regain any semblance of equanimity.

  “Can I have this dance, my love?” Without waiting for a response, he pulled me onto the dance floor, away from most of the other couples, to a more or less secluded part of the floor, and drew my head onto his shoulder as we began to sway together in familiar synchronicity.

  “Is he hitting on you?” I had to know, even though I had sworn I wasn’t going to ask.

  “He asked me out, yes,” Richard admitted, “but I let him know I wasn’t available, and that was it.”

  I wondered how often that little scenario was played out, with other people, other places. With different results. Dammit, I had to quit thinking that way. It only brought pain.

  “Max,” he said, forcing me to raise my eyes to his, “Max, you know I love you. Don’t worry about him, okay? He’s just another client, that’s all. No more, no less.” I gazed in awe into those gorgeously blue eyes.

  “I don’t trust him,” I said at last. And prayed that Richard wouldn’t ask the obvious question, ’cause I wasn’t sure how I would answer that. But luckily he didn’t.

  “Does he have to be your client? Can’t you let him go?”

  “Yes, he does, and no, I can’t.” He kissed the tip of my nose gently. “With any luck, he’ll be out of here before we know it. He said some TV producer is wanting to see his portfolio, so the sooner I get it done the better. Pack him off to Hollywood and out of our lives, eh?” He smiled most warmly at me.

  I couldn’t help but shiver, as if a goose were walking across my grave. There was still something wrong about him, and I just didn’t know what. But I wanted to find out before he caused irreparable damage to the things I cared about the most (read Richard). I merely nodded and stroked his back softly as we danced.

  Which would have been, and should have been, the end of that, but as we were bidding farewell to everyone and preparing to take our leave at the end of the evening—and after I drank a few more glasses of wine to calm my nerves—Richard was approached by one of Daniel’s friends, something about needing a photographer. He kissed me sweetly and said he’d be right back, which was fine. But as I stood there, waiting, lost in thought, I was accosted by none other than the right honorable Reverend Fisher himself.

  “Hello, Max,” he greeted me with a warm smile. I guess it would be considered warm, if given by someone else. “Lovely evening, don’t you think? Everything was splendid!”

  “Uh huh,” I replied noncommittally. “Lovely.”

  “Max, I wanted to talk to you for a minute, if I could, son.” I wanted to bristle but managed to keep it down to a minimum, and he never seemed to notice. “Max, I happen to think the world of your mother, as you might have noticed. She’s a fine woman, a very fine woman.”

  Tell me something I don’t know.

  “I think that she and I together could do good work. I think she would make a perfect wife.”

  What? “You want to marry her?” I asked.

  “Someday, Max, someday, yes. But in my position, I have to be very careful of everything that I say and do, and that goes for my future bride as well. But I hope that soon we will
have every impediment resolved and that we may declare our union.” He smiled most beatifically. I just wanted to punch him.

  Impediment? What impediment? Did he mean me? How could I be resolved? That was making no sense to me.

  “Ah, I see my fair lady now,” he finished, “if you’ll excuse me, Max.” He waved to Mother, who waved back to him, and just as he was about to turn away from me, he leaned in closer and said in a completely different tone of voice, almost sotto voce, “I think you should be at services this coming Sunday, for your mother’s sake, Max, as well as your own.” And then he was gone before I could even think of how to respond to his threat. For that is what I perceived it as: a direct threat.

  “What did that bastard just say to you?” Richard wanted to know, coming up behind me. Finished with his business now, he had just missed the reverend’s exit. “C’mon, I’ll tell you.” I grabbed his hand, headed for the door. “I think we’re going to church Sunday, Richard. It’s time we found out what this is all about.”

  Now it’s the middle of the night, I’m holding on to Richard as tightly as I can, and I know—I simply know—that something bad is coming, and I don’t know how to save us.

  Suspicious, to the max, and going to get to the bottom of things.

  Chapter 17

  In the House of the Enemy

  THE CHURCH OF DIVINE PROVIDENCE does not have a permanent structure yet, but it is well on its way to attaining that goal, thanks to gullible church members like my mother and the patron who donated the land on which the new church will sit. Somewhere in West St. Louis County, I think, which surely can’t be cheap. At the moment, though, they hold their services in the rented hall of a Masonic Temple in North County, where is where we are to meet, our merry little band, which consists of myself and Richard, Rachel and Diana, and Sebastian and Cat. Embarking on our own personal Crusade. Does that make me King Baldwin, then? I wonder. I feel like it sometimes, especially on those nights when the selenic bitch fastens her hold on me and I lose myself in the nature of the beast.