Читать книгу Mad About Max - Penny McCusker - Страница 10

Sara took down the rest of the papier-mâché turkeys her students had made, looping the strings that had attached them to the ceiling around her fingers as she went about the task. She really should have done it earlier in the week, so the children would have their handmade decorations to grace their tables for the big day tomorrow. Instead, she’d kept putting it off so she wouldn’t have to think about the holiday looming like a big question mark at the end of the week.

But there were paper Santas, stuffed with cotton batting and stapled at the edges, to be hung. Life went on, time passed and memories weren’t supposed to hurt as much. But they did.

Despite the ray of hope it had provided, the argument with Max haunted her. Here it was, the day before Thanksgiving, and for the first time in six years, she didn’t know if she’d be cooking a turkey with all the trimmings for Max and Joey, or eating a solitary meal in a lonely house. She didn’t like being on bad terms with anyone, and when it was Max…well, it felt as if somebody was ripping her heart out, and the pain of it was giving her second thoughts.

She’d tried to forget about the difficult path she’d chosen by focusing on the destination, but she really wasn’t all that eager for things to change if that change might mean leaving Max for good. Still, being alone couldn’t be any worse than being in love alone.

“Look who I found.”

Sara gasped in surprise, and slapped a turkey-festooned hand over her suddenly racing heart. “Jeez, Janey, I hate it when you sneak up on me like…” She spun around to confront her best friend, but her focus immediately shifted to the boy standing so uneasily under Janey’s casually slung arm. “Hey, Joey, what’s up?”

He shrugged, burying his mittened hands deep in the pockets of his coat.

Sara looked at Janey.

Janey made a face and gave a slight you-got-me shake of her head.

“Did you miss the bus?” Sara asked Joey as she unstrung her hand and laid the turkeys on her desk.

“No. Dad’s picking me up.”

Sara peered out her window, which faced the street and the parking lot. There wasn’t a car or truck in sight. “I think he might have forgotten.”

“He didn’t forget. He’s just late.” Joey ducked out from under Janey’s arm and went to the window. He crossed his arms on the sill and dropped his chin to rest on them, staring out at the empty road.

Sara’s heart broke for him. She knew how he felt—oh, not that Max had ever forgotten about her. It was more a case of not thinking of her at all. She could be his boots or his coat: not to be given another thought as long as she fit his life. And perhaps to be just as easily replaced now that she didn’t. But that was too dismal and self-serving a thought to be having while there was a child in pain.

She grabbed a chair and carried it across the room, sitting next to Joey. He sidled a couple of steps away.

So, there was more going on here than simply Joey being upset that his dad had forgotten him. “What’s wrong, Joey?”

“Nothing.” But he hunched his shoulders, concentrating very hard on the view out the window.

If he’d shouted at her to go away, she couldn’t have gotten the message any clearer. She wasn’t about to back off. “Why didn’t you let me know your dad hadn’t come? You know I’ll drive you home.”

“No—I mean, Dad’s in town, helping put up the Christmas decorations.”

“And it’s been snowing on and off all day, so he probably didn’t finish in time,” Sara mused.

“I was gonna walk into town and find him, but she—” he jerked his head toward Janey “—brought me down here instead.”

Janey rolled her eyes, spun on her heel and left.

“You know the rules, kiddo. You’re not allowed to leave school property unless you’re on the bus or an adult comes for you.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Rules.”

“Well, I’m an adult, and it’s only a few blocks into town. Since you don’t want me to drive you home, how about we walk into town and find your dad?”

Joey stared at the hand she held out, so patently miserable that Sara couldn’t bear it. She gathered him close, shutting her eyes and sighing out a breath when he threw his arms around her neck. Oh, how she’d missed hugging that compact little body, smoothing her hand over his unruly hair. “Want to tell me what I did wrong?” she asked, lifting his face when he refused to look at her. “Why don’t you want me to take you into town?”

“Dad told me to leave you alone. He said you needed space.”

Sara went hot and cold all at once. That Max would say such a thing to an eight-year-old, give him the impression she didn’t want him around.

She looked down at her aching hands, surprised to find them curled into fists. “Did he tell you why?” she asked, grating the words a little as she forced her hands to open.

“I asked him, but he said he doesn’t know.” Joey stared up at her, his blue eyes wide and confused. “There’s practically nothing but space in Montana, Sara, so why do you want more?”

“I…You won’t understand until you’re grown-up.”

Joey snorted. “That’s what adults say when they don’t want to explain something. Like when it has to do with sex.”

Sara’s first reaction was shock at hearing that word out of Joey’s mouth. Her second reaction was that he’d hit the nail square on the head. It was about sex, since that was just about the only role she didn’t play in Max’s life, and if she got her wish, that would be the only thing added to their relationship. That and love.

“You’re right, Joey, and so is your dad. I need some time to myself right now, and it’s not something I can really explain to you.”

“Does that mean you can’t come over and watch a movie with me, or play Scrabble, or bake cookies, or…anything?”

“It means I won’t be doing any of those things at your house.” His face fell, the cute little boy copy of Max’s features crumpling on the verge of tears. Sara gathered him close once again, then cupped his chin and looked him square in the eyes. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you, Joey, I promise you that. You and I are always going to be best friends. If you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask. Besides, just because I won’t be spending a whole lot of time at your house doesn’t mean you can’t come over to mine.”

“But I like it when you come to our house, Sara. It’s like…” He turned away, his cheeks heating.

“I know what you mean.” She had to swallow back her tears. “You’ll always be my family, no matter what. Deal?”

He took the hand she stuck out, shook it solemnly. “Deal.”

“Now, how about we go find that father of yours?”

He started toward the coat closet with her, but his feet were dragging. “Maybe I should go by myself.”

“Maybe we can stop at the Five-and-Dime on the way, see if they have a sale on ice cream.”

His face brightened immediately. Sara wished ice cream could cure all his hurts. He’d never let on that he was aware of the tension between the two adults in his life, but for the first time she got an inkling of how deeply Joey might be hurt if she didn’t handle this situation exactly right.

Max wasn’t helping. When she thought of him telling Joey that she didn’t want to see him, the oddest feeling began to build inside her. The anger she recognized, but it was unlike anything she’d felt before. This anger was a heat that filled her from the soles of her feet to the roots of her hair, made her head throb and red crowd in at the edges of her vision. She followed Joey out of the school and into the kind of blue-sky cold that cut to the bone. She didn’t even feel it, though her coat was unbuttoned; she just shaded her eyes against the glare of the sun on the snowdrifts and set off toward the main part of town.

She barely noticed how beautiful Erskine looked, the false-fronted buildings outlined in tiny lights that glowed against the gray clouds and purply white-capped mountains off in the distance. Or how festive the light poles were, half of them already twined with evergreen boughs, red and white ribbons and more lights. She strode down Main Street, shooting a glance over her shoulder every now and again to make sure Joey was keeping up with her. The fact that he had to trot didn’t seem to bother him, so she didn’t let it bother her. He obviously wasn’t winded enough to keep him from chattering nonstop.

“Can we stop in the toy store?” he asked for at least the third time.

“Not today. We need to find your dad.” Oh, did they ever, she added silently, before she lost this head of steam. “Maybe he’ll take you to the toy store later.” If he could still stand to show his face in town after she got through with him.

“Look, Sara, there’s the feed store. I want to see if the kittens are ready to go home. And I need fish food.”

“Not right now.” By the time she got done cutting Max into little pieces, fish food wouldn’t be a problem.

“Can I—”

“No, Joey.” She caught his sleeve, checked the flow of pedestrian and automobile traffic, and shepherded him across the street, all without changing stride, causing a car accident or tripping anyone—including herself. The satisfaction was enormous, even with a layer of temper blurring it.

She hit the door of the Five-and-Dime with the heel of her palm, Joey still in tow, and weaved her way through the displays without so much as setting one of the card carousels spinning. “Hey, Lucy,” she said in greeting to the girl behind the dinette counter. “Can you keep an eye on Joey for a little while? I need to find Max.”

“Aw, jeez, I want to come and watch,” the girl muttered.

Sara’s temper spiked dangerously. She wrestled it down with a reminder that this teenager wasn’t the one responsible for it. Neither was the general populace of Erskine; they merely got a heap of entertainment out of it. Well, those days were over. “No one’s winning the pool today, Lucy, so you can stay right here and do your job. Give Joey whatever he wants and I’ll be in to get him in a little while. Or Max will, just as soon as I track the—” She looked at Joey, poring happily over the menu, and censored herself. “One of us will pick him up later.”

She turned on her heel, leaving a gleeful eight-year-old and a whining teenager at the old-fashioned soda fountain in the Five-and-Dime. She marched down Main Street, plunging through the preholiday crowds like a Boston steel plow through the rich Montana soil. It helped that people scurried out of her way, some even crossing the street, shopping bags rattling and swinging as they hurried their Christmas purchases out of the path of the town’s klutz. Of course, about half of them fell in behind her on the chance they could liven up their Christmas shopping—and maybe pay off their credit cards.