Max and Abby (3)

It was very late when Max got home.  Coffee had been nice, and getting to know Abby had been nicer.  She had given him her number by way of scribbling it on his hand.

“I come in around the lunch shift tomorrow if you don’t make it to the grocery store again.”

“See, I don’t want you serving me meals now… it’s weird.”

“So I’ll send Rhonda.”

“She messes up my orders…”

“Sacrifices Max.”

Max nodded.

When he took her home, he walked her to the door, holding her hand.  She nervously began to say something about coming in but Max cut her off before she offered.

“I had a lot of fun tonight Abby.  As a matter of fact, I don’t remember when I’ve had so much fun.  I don’t know what the rules are for second dates but…”  He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.  Abby blushed.  She couldn’t stop the grin that formed, sprawling from one side of her face to the other.  “… I thought I might be able to get away with that,” he finished.

He leaned back, letting go of her hand.  Abby felt warm.  She felt desire.  She felt… relief.  She had wanted to invite him.  She had wanted to have him, to surround him, to revel in him.  And at the same time she had wanted him to leave… like this.  Her smile grew larger.

“I think I can allow that…  It was our second date after all.”

“Good night, Abby.”

“Good night, Max.”

Max walked back to the truck and waited until she had gone inside before driving away.

—-

His apartment was dark and cold.  The windows were still open and he could hear the wind outside.  It was picking up.  All of a sudden, Max felt alone… more than that, he felt lonely.  More than that, he felt grateful for feeling lonely.  For the first time in a long time, Max was looking forward to another day.  I got her number.  Somehow I got her number.  He took out his phone to save the number.

Before he could, he saw that he had an unread text message.  Oh yeah, I forgot about that.  The message was from John:

“Horse, meet Water.  DRINK!  Lunch at Lou’s tomorrow at noon on you.  Bring details.”

Persistent.  I’ll give him that.

Max put his keys on the table and disposed of the empty beer bottles his guests had left behind.  He yawned.  It was long and telling.  Despite avoiding reality and life in general, Max hadn’t gotten much rest lately.  He decided it was time to fix that and started to wind down.  He brushed his teeth and wiped out the sink when he was finished.  He took off his clothes, being sure to place them where he assumed John would approve, chuckling to himself as he did it.  Flipping the switch in his bedroom he stood frozen in the doorway, wearing only his boxer shorts.

Oh yeah…

The trunk was sitting open on the floor.  A few random files and objects lay around it.  Furthest from the trunk was the large brown file with the gold lettering.  Her file.  The comfort and overall feeling of “normal” drained away from Max and he felt anxious again.  He was angry and lost.  His tidied living room and disinfected bathroom suddenly felt silly to him.  He felt exposed again and unclean.  He remembered the stale, stagnant air and the filth that likely still lingered around him.  He didn’t want to be seen and he didn’t want to talk.  He was now dreading lunch tomorrow.  I don’t know what I was thinking.  I’m not ready for this.  I’m not ready for anything.  I should have just told John to leave.  God dammit, John why couldn’t you just leave me alone?  ‘

His phone buzzed again.  It’s late, John.  Even you can’t be this annoying.  He looked at his phone.  He was right.  John hadn’t sent a message.  His phone was alerting him to its impending demise.

Low battery.

Suddenly his mind flashed to Abby holding his hand.  She had made sure they could reach one another.  She was leaning forward and a few of her curls had fallen over her shoulder.  It was an image that pleased him… an image he would remember.  An arbitrary moment with no real significance beyond what his mind found to be… beautiful… memorable.  She had made him feel good when all else had made him feel bad.  Even John, despite his best intentions and catalyst role in Max’s date(s) with Abby, had made him feel anxious and exposed.  Abby made him feel exposed… but not anxious.  Abby made him feel safe.

He felt like he knew her… as if the few hours of talking over tea and muffins had confirmed a lifetime of half-stories and sporadically learned factoids Max had picked up over the years of Abby bringing him coffee and meatloaf.  He had to remind himself that while they hadn’t just met, there was more to both of them than either of them knew and he would need to take his time.

Max connected the charger to his phone and sighed.  It was a good sigh.  His eyes returned to the trunk.  He shook his head.  I’ll get to you later.  I need my sleep.  Big day tomorrow.  Having planned nothing beyond more couch lounging and potentially a beer run, Max found himself looking forward to lunch.  Dangling over despair, he held onto that feeling… to Abby… to life, and crawled into bed.  He slept deeply despite the sugar and caffeine.  He dreamed of orderlies in white clothes carrying bottles of bleach.  He dreamed of Abby being locked in a trunk.  He dreamed of a diner filled with people eating meatloaf with mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans.  He dreamed he was there with Salisbury steak with macaroni and cheese, and sauerkraut… and Rhonda bringing him a refill on the lemonade he didn’t order.  He dreamed of Abby laughing at him from the cash register.

He dreamed of Abby.

Max was still on a leave of absence so he had no reason to set an alarm.  He slept until the sun had crept into his eyes.  It was irritating and inescapable.

God dammit, John.  The blinds had been pulled the day before.  Today Max would face the morning light whether he wanted to or not.  There was a bird singing on the branch outside his window.  It wasn’t a beautiful melody.  It was more of a squawk mixed with a sliding whistle.  It was tied with the sun for Max’s current most hated thing.

Max groaned and rolled over.  The light on his phone had turned green.  His phone had charged.  Picking it up he looked at the time.  9am.  Haven’t seen that in a while.  Max stretched and sat up in bed.  He yawned.  Not the exhausted yawn from the night before, but a satisfied, rested yawn.  He turned and examined his bedroom in the new light.  It was very bright and despite being tidy, it needed some work.  Max stood up and set about straightening up.  He had deliberately stepped around the trunk, avoiding an urge to gaze into it, not wanting to spoil what might be his resurrection from the festering wallow, bordering on madness, that had consumed him for so many days.

When the room was back in the condition of a person not sunk in a deep depression, he moved to the laundry room, continuing the process John had began the night before.  It was around 11am when he was satisfied with his apartment.  Now he was hungry and sweaty.  Peering into his refrigerator, Max quickly realized he’d only be able to solve one of those issues.  Finding a clean towel, Max showered and got ready for lunch.

He sent a text to John:

“12 is too early, let’s figure closer to 1”

Max was getting dressed when his phone started to buzz as if it were being electrocuted.  He let it buzz, knowing it was just John, and brushed his teeth.  When he checked his phone he found 7 messages in a row:

“No prob.”
“wait… y?”
“IS SHE STILL THERE?!??”
“HOLY SHIT DUDE!!!!”
“i can’t wait until 1 bro i need details!!”
“come on, I handed this to u i deserve the 1st draft!”
“Fine fuck u. c u at 1”

Max laughed and considered leaving him in suspense.  Not really fair I guess.  He responded:

“didn’t happen bro but had a good time.  coffee and muffins.  took her home.  kissed her on cheek.  gonna see her with u at lou’s.”

“not as good as gettin laid, but its a start”

“shut up.  i like her.  she’s great”

“K stop my phone is turning gay”

“fuck you. cu@lous”

“yep”

Max had wanted to be at Lou’s as soon as possible but figured since Abby was likely coming in at the end of the lunch rush, he could wait.  Didn’t want to seem too eager.  His phone buzzed again.  Now what, John?   Only it wasn’t John.

“good morning.  had fun last night.  if you come to lunch i’ll make sure rhonda gets your order right!”  Max quickly added the number to his contact list.  He considered putting it in as “The Waitress” but didn’t think she’d be amused by it if she found out.  He responded:

“wouldn’t miss it.  c u in a bit”

“great!”

Max responded with a sideways smile and finished getting ready.  I should probably get to the store sometime today too.  

In the fog of good feelings, Max was pierced by the reality of the trunk as he entered the bedroom.

“I’m in a good mood, leave me alone.”

The trunk sat open, pleading with him to abandon his temporary joy and wallow in the dust and sorrow of its musty truth and mystery.

“I haven’t been alive in a long time.  I’ll get to you eventually.”

The trunk didn’t move.  Max walked closer to it and peered inside… accidentally, he thought.  It was because I was in a good mood that I had it in me to open this damn thing to begin with.

Max checked the time, decided he could spare a few moments to look through a trunk a bit and knelt beside it.

“Ok fine, you win.  But I’m keeping this mood, deal?”

The trunk didn’t respond.

Under what had been the old file from his mother’s long ago hospitalization Max found a brown paper bag.  It was full.  He touched it with his finger.  The ancient bag crinkled but what lay beneath gave a bit, like fabric.  Carefully removing the bag, Max looked inside and found a small collection of tiny stuffed bears.  They were identical in size and style and only distinguishable from one another by the unique colored ribbons around each of their necks.

Some seemed more worn than others but it was difficult to tell how far apart these plush playthings had been acquired.  He set the small bag of bears on the floor next to the file and noticed the bottom of the bag had a similar gold lettering to the hospital file.  It spelled “Personal Items.”  Max furrowed his brow and dug further into the chest for more bags.  Certainly, he thought, there had to have been more personal items than a tattered collection of cheap bears.  There weren’t.  Or at least there weren’t any more brown bags like this one.  There were other items for sure.

Clothing… mostly robes and pajamas.  A large jar of bolts, screws and assorted change.  Lotions.  An afghan made of orange and brown yarn.  An embroidered handkerchief with initials Max didn’t recognize.

Who is RJ?  

To one side of the trunk was a large stack of opened envelopes… mostly hospital correspondence, financial statements primarily.  Documented evidence that his mother not only received services from the hospital, but resided there for several months.  Max sat back, feeling the overwhelming helplessness and confusion edging his good humor.  He took a deep breath.

“We had a deal.  Remember?”

The trunk groaned slightly as its contents settled.

“Fuck you too.”  Max stood up and set about dressing himself.  He’d had enough of his mother’s madness and his own despair.  We’ll try again later.

—-

The diner was very busy when Max arrived.  John was standing at the door looking at his watch with a disappointed look on his face.  

“Been waiting cupcake.  What took you?”

“I’m not late.”

“You’re not early.”

“You’re not…” Max sighed.  “Can we do this inside?  I’m hungry.”

“Place is packed bro.  Couple seats at the counter though.”

“That’ll do.”

“Jesus Christ, dude, you had one night with this chick and you’re already losing yourself in this relationship”

“It’s a table, John.”

“It’s our table, Max.”

“I’m hungry, John.”

“Yeah I bet you are.”  John snapped his wrist and mocked the sound of a whip.  Max ignored him and walked into the diner.  Abby was at “his” table helping the family of four who had the audacity to order their meal there.  Max wandered to the counter and sat down.  The stool groaned under his weight and shrieked loudly as he turned to the menu board.

“What can I get you, hon?”  Rhonda asked.

“Can I start with coffee?  Not sure what I want yet…”

“Meatloaf is still the special…”  Rhonda, despite her unfortunate waitressing abilities, could always remember what Max ordered, yet somehow never quite got it right.

“I had meatloaf last night.”

“You have meatloaf every night, so what?”

“I do not.  Just when I’m here.  Besides, today I’m thinking I might have something different.  What kind of pie you got today?”

“Seriously?”  Rhonda lifted her head and yelled, “Abby, what did you do to him?  He’s asking about pie!”

From across the diner, Abby turned and smiled.  She quickly waved to Max and turned back to her customers.  

“Apple and cherry.  We also have chili.  I made it.  You order that and I might faint.”

“Cornbread?”

“From a box but it ain’t bad.”

“I’ll take it.  Water with lemon too, please.”  

Rhonda’s eyes widened.  Sarcastically she started fanning her face with her order pad.  “Abby told me not to fuck up your order today.  I’ll do my best.”  She winked at Max and headed to the kitchen.  

“I appreciate it,” he called after her.  You’re still going to fuck it up, but at least you acknowledge it.  Max wasn’t sure how he felt about Abby revealing some of the details of the previous night to the incompetent waitress, but at his core he loved that Abby had talked about him today.  He smiled despite himself.  Abby walked behind him and grazed his back with her hand as she approached the register.

“Hi Max!  Crazy in here today!  Where’s your other half?”

“Outside smoking… possibly planning an assault.”

“They literally just ordered.  He might as well come in.  Kids take forever to eat anyway.”

“In a hurry to see him, are you?”

“Jealous?”

“Not after two dates…”  He paused.  “Ok yeah, a little.”

Abby laughed.  “Well I figure if he comes in and starts running his mouth you guys might be around past the lunch rush and we can talk.  Maybe make plans.”

“Plans?”

“To meet my parents.”  Abby’s delivery was impeccable as evidenced by Max’s genuine surprise and lack of response.  After a moment, Abby’s face revealed her ruse and Max shook his head.

“Not funny.”

“You don’t want to meet my parents?”  Abby was finishing at the register, not looking at Max.

“I mean… I do but just not today.”

Abby was headed to another table with the change in her hands.  She kissed him on the cheek as she passed and whispered in his ear.  “How’s tomorrow sound then?”

“How’s the service across the street?”  He replied.

“Terrible.  And the waitresses there are all married.”  Abby gave the customers their change and thanked them for coming in.  They had been eavesdropping on the back and forth between her and Max and giggled as they left.

Rhonda came back with coffee.  There was no cream nor sugar to be found.  And while it technically did have water, there was no lemon and ultimately Max would have preferred it cold.  Max chuckled to himself and sipped his black coffee.  The door opened and John came in, hopefully peering towards his sacred table in the back.  And then, like a disappointed little boy on Christmas morning, he moped his way to the counter.

“Guess this will have to do.”

“It’s one meal.  You can handle one meal,” Max said encouragingly.  

“I guess I have to!” John raised his voice slightly.  Max closed his eyes and shook his head.

“Order your god damn lunch asshole.”  With that, Max went back to his coffee as John’s focus shifted to the menu board.

“They got pie?”

“Apple and cherry.”

John yelled towards Rhonda who was at the cash register.  “Club and chips, honey.  Sweet tea.”

“Yup.”  Rhonda rolled her eyes.

John looked at Max, “Be lucky to get a sugar packet in this fucking place.”

Max laughed. “Tell me about it.”

“This relationship of yours is ruining my life.  You need to choose bro.”

“Which choice makes you shut the fuck up?”

“Neither.”

“Naturally.  If you eat slow, I’ll ask that our pie be moved to our table when that family leaves.  Truce?”

“I guess.  It’s a good thing I’m so flexible Max.  Not everybody would put up with this shit.”

“I count my lucky stars everyday.”

“Dick.”

“Chili for me, but you help yourself.  I know it’s your favorite.”

John chuckled and muttered something sexual about chili dogs.

When their food arrived they again ate in silence, this time looking at the television from time to time and catching up on current events.  John did a double take at Max’s lunch choice but kept his commentary to himself as Max seemed to be enjoying it.  After all,  John didn’t want to discourage anything that was different from the wallowing that had overcome his friend recently.

Max was so enjoying his food that he didn’t notice the buzz of his phone from his pocket.

“You gonna get that?”

“Get what?”  Max suddenly felt the vibration and reached into his pocket.  It was the same number from the night before.

“Bound and determined to wreck my day…”

“Who?”

“Insurance company.  Hang on.”  Max was already standing and heading towards the door while answering his phone.  Rhonda caught his glance and he shook his head… motioned that he would be right back.

Outside and nearly through the fourth ring, Max answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello, my name is Lisa Sellers, I’m with Quality Life and Liability.  I’m calling to speak with a Mr. O’Keen?

“Yeah, this is Max Upton.”

“Hi Mr. Upton.  I’m calling about the life insurance policy decision for your mother… Patricia?

“That’s her.  What’s going on now?”

“I wanted to let you know that a decision had not been made in light of your recent appeal though there were several items that we require in order to proceed.”

“Ok.  What?”  Max wasn’t hiding his disdain.

“According to her application she stated there was no history of mental health concerns.  However, we were able to recover…”

Max cut her off.  “Records saying at one time or another, mom was pretty nuts and therefore arguably falsified her record making the agreement null and void and leaving me to find the couple grand it took to torch, sweep and bag her on my own.  I heard that part.  What do you need?”

The insurance representative was quiet for a moment.  Max felt a little guilty and almost apologized and then she spoke.  “My apologies Mr. Upton, it appears we will need whatever documentation relating to her previous mental health supports that are available.”

“Right.  I found some stuff last night.  It’s pretty old.”

“That’s fine.  If you could provide that information it would help expedite this process.”

“Let me ask you a question Lisa.  Let’s say I go through all of this stuff and package it up nice and neat for you.  What are the chances that any of that effort helps my case?”

“Mr. Upton, I’m not able to…”

Max cut her off.  “It’s Max.  Just Max.  I’m not asking for Ms. Sellers’ corporate professional response.  I’m asking for Lisa’s personal opinion.  Am I wasting my time?”  Max’s tone had softened.

There was a long pause.  Max assumed she had hung up until there was a brief sigh on the other end of the line.

“Honestly?  I don’t know.  I see a lot of these things.  And I see a lot of these things get held up.  Most of the ones that get paid out are to people who were willing to keep jumping through the hoops.  It’s not a lot of money to this company but it sounds like it is to you.  I don’t know what to tell you.  If it were me, I’d probably keeping pushing a little longer.”

“I appreciate that Lisa.  I’ll see what I can put together and get back to you.”

“Thank you Mr. Up… Max.  The time frame on this is pretty big so take your time, but don’t take too much time, ok?”

“Thanks.”

“Take care.”

“You too.”

Max hung up and took a deep breath.  It wasn’t what he had wanted to hear.  But it was nice to have spoken to a human being as opposed to the electronic voices or the corporate flesh machines.

Wonder if I should send the bears too?

Max walked back into the diner.  John was no longer at the counter.  He was at their table.  To himself, Max hoped the happy family had left by their decision and not his actions but he was glad to have his table back either way.

At his place were two slices of pie, one bowl of vanilla ice cream and another bowl of whipped cream.

“We didn’t know what you wanted for dessert so we figured we’d get it all.  I ate the cake.”  John was half way through his cherry pie a la mode.

“I’d been happy to finish my lunch.  Chili was pretty good.”

“Yeah Rhonda out did herself.”

Max looked puzzled.

“Sorry, I was hungry.”

“Well at least she didn’t take it this time.”

Max felt a hand on his back.  It was Abby.  In her other hand was a tall glass of ice water with a lemon wedge on the side.

“You’re a good sport Max.  Make sure you tell Rhonda how good the chili was.”

“Will do.”  Max stole an extra moment of eye contact before John’s obnoxious disdain for normalcy took over.

“Jesus Christ you two, get a fucking room.”

“Don’t be an asshole John,” Abby laughed.

“Just saying, I’m thirsty too.”

“I’ll send Rhonda right over.”

“Where did we go wrong?  Things used to be so much better before this guy got in the way.”  John poked his thumb towards Max who was now enjoying his apple pie as well as the relatively charming banter between his best friend and…

Girlfriend…?  Easy champ.  

Max shrugged.  “What can I say, I’m meeting needs you just can’t.”

“Never met a woman who needed a morose puppy dog with three legs before.”

“Aww!”  Abby looked at Max in this new image.  Max made a puppy dog face and smiled.

“Jesus Christ.  Rhonda, can I get a water?”

“Car wash is across the street!” Rhonda yelled from the counter.

With that, John threw his hands in the air with a distinct look of what-the-hell-did-I-do-to-deserve-that on his face.

“So… I’m thinking double date tonight,” Max said recognizing the connection Rhonda could make with John, or at least with Max’s funny bone.

Abby’s look of delighted surprise made John’s face fall from annoyed to genuinely antagonized.

“I’ll go tell her to expect one of you to ask her out… god knows who with you two.”  Abby went back to the counter, a small string of customers had entered the diner.

“What did the insurance company want?”

“Ammo.”

“Vultures.”

Max shrugged and set about finishing his pie.

“Go find out when the girls get off tonight.”  John had clearly convinced himself that the notion of a double date was not in jest.

“I’m not done my pie!”

“You got two slices for Christ’s sake!”

Max sighed.  “Fine.  Let me finish this slice and drink some water and I’ll get you a date.  Ok?  God some people are pathetic.”

“Deal.  But hurry up.”

“Yes dear.”

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Dan Jenkins

Dan Jenkins

I'm just like every other parent only you can't blame my genetics.

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