Eats, Shoots & Leaves (ML/Adult) AN 13Dec (WIP)

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LairaBehr4
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Post by LairaBehr4 »

Hello, everyone!

Well, I'm posting. I had a lousy day - my dog in California had to be put to sleep today. Those of you who were paying attention might remember that my cat died on Mother's Day last year as well. Sad, sad sadness.

So I'm posting to cheer myself up.

Yeah.

Here you go.




Eats, Shoots & Leaves;

Or,

Looking for a Prince in a World Full of Frogs


Chapter Twenty – The Courage to Embrace the New



The last Saturday in October stopped being “cool” or “brisk” and had moved on to being merely cold. Plain ol’ boring run-of-the-mill cold. Liz was shivering just from the breeze floating in through the doorframe of the front door of her building before she’d even stepped outside.

Yep, it was gonna be an interesting winter.

It had now been five days since Liz had last seen Serena; they hadn’t crossed paths since the past Monday when Liz had caught her sneaking in. They’d talked on the phone once, and Serena had left a note for her on Wednesday when she’d gone to the apartment to pick up some clothes and some toiletries, but other than that, Liz was beginning to realize that this is what it felt like to live alone. It wasn’t so bad; at least she didn’t have to watch hours upon hours of ‘Law and Order’ … though she did end up watching one or two episodes just out of habit. But if things were going to continue the way they were now, Liz knew she might have to find herself looking for a new roommate. And since Serena was the only roommate she’d had since she was twenty, that seemed a rather daunting undertaking.

And so, by the time Saturday came around, Liz found herself in desperate need of some sympathy, and she knew just the place to get it. She took her long wool winter coat out of storage, found a green lace scarf and a matching green hat, donned her leather gloves and began the trek through the Philadelphian tundra towards South Street.

Liz could feel some of her tension loosening as she neared Joe's store. Somehow the place always managed to make her feel comfortable ... well, not including the first time she'd gone inside. But there was something about the place that made it feel like a second home to her, and right now that was exactly what she needed. She happily skipped up the steps to the door, pushed it open to the chimes of the overhead bells, and ... stopped short in her tracks at the crowd assembled inside. Standing together in a circle amidst dust-covered furniture and junk were Max, his sister, Ben, Serena, Maria, and another man and woman Liz recognized as also being members of the band. From the looks on their faces, she immediately knew that she'd walked in on something.

Max looked over his shoulder when he heard the door open, wondering who could possibly be coming in so early on a Saturday morning. He gasped out loud when he saw Liz there, looking bewitching with her green hat and scarf, her cheeks blushing from the early winter frost. He turned around to face her. "Hey," he said.

Liz scanned the strange and familiar faces in front of her. She could sense the many different reactions that each of them had. The sister's eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched; that was okay, Liz didn't like her either. Serena looked at her with none of the excitement that Liz would have hoped she'd have at seeing her again; instead, she seemed concerned and sympathetic. Ben too looked worried, and slightly apprehensive, which Liz put down to the fear of meeting the best friend of the girl he was dating. Maria too looked saddened and concerned; the other two looked at her with curiosity that could have been almost gleeful if it hadn't been for the dark cloud hanging over all of them. "Uh, what's going on here?"

Max took a deep breath. "Joe is gone."

Liz's chest suddenly felt heavy. "What?" she cried out in a grieved voice.

Serena immediately knew her friend's assumption and rushed to reassure her. "No, no, Liz," she ran forward and took Liz's arm. "Not that kind of gone."

Max cursed himself for scaring her like that. He stepped forward and handed a piece of paper out to her. "I found this taped on the door to the apartment upstairs." Liz took the paper from him and read it to herself.


Dear Max,

Moved to Lancaster, joined a nudist colony (don’t tell Phil).

Try not to sell the store while I'm gone.

- Joe

PS Don’t forget to feed my cat.

PPS Where's my Fender?



Liz had to read the note several times before her mind could wrap itself around the words.

Meanwhile, Isabel started taking charge. "I still say we drive out to Lancaster and get him."

"Oooh, no," Kyle said. "No way am I going anywhere near a naked Joe."

"He's not in Lancaster," Ben said, locking eyes with Max in a silent discussion. Max nodded his head.

"What do you mean, he's not in Lancaster?" Isabel nearly screamed. "You read the note! You know what it says!"

"Isabel, there's nothing in Lancaster but Amish people and an outlet mall. He's not in Lancaster," Max impatiently told her.

"Plus, that county's so Republican it's practically on Bush's Christmas card list," Serena piped up. "No way would anyone out there allow a nudist colony."

"That's what the note said!"

"The note is WRONG, Isabel!" Max yelled. "Joe's not in a nudist colony. He took off for someplace where he doesn't want to be found. That's why he wrote what he did. It wasn't meant to be taken literally."

Isabel’s cold demeanor cracked a little bit. “But why?” she said softly. “Why would he do that?”

Max ran his hands through his hair. He hadn’t meant to snap at her, but damn, for an intelligent woman, she really could be rather dumb sometimes. “I don’t know, Is. All I can say is that if he pulled a stunt like this, he just doesn’t want to be found right now. There’s nothing we can do about it.” He sighed. He really wasn’t good with this sort of thing. Needing an escape, he started walking towards the stairwell. “I’m going to go look around upstairs.”

Isabel sniffled. “Why wouldn’t he want to be found? We’re his family.”

Tess walked up to her to try to give her some comfort. She wrapped her arms around Isabel’s waist – the height difference between them was so great that it would be too ambitious to reach for her shoulders. “It’s okay, hon,” she said soothingly. “Joe can take care of himself. He probably just needed a vacation or something. Can you even remember the last time he took a break from this place?” Isabel shook her head as she struggled to keep the tears inside. “Any of you?” Tess asked the others, who all looked at each other awkwardly. “There you have it. He probably needed to do something that was just for him for a little while. He’ll be back.”

Max’s heavy footfalls sounded down the stairs. “Well, if he really did join a nudist colony, I’d say he’s going to be a bit overdressed. About half his clothes are missing.” As he reached the bottom of the stairs, a dash of black and white shot out from behind him, almost causing him to trip and fall. “Ah! Shit!” Max had to grab onto the wall to regain his balance. “Stupid fucking cat,” he muttered.

Paul The Cat flew like lightening over to where Liz and Serena were standing. Liz bent down and stretched her arms out, and he bounded into them. She held him tightly to her. How long had he been alone? He seemed starved for company, pressing his head against her cheek as she ran her hand up and down his spine. He let out a blissful purr.

“Anything else missing?” Maria inquired.

Max forced his gaze away from Liz and Paul. How’d the damn cat get so lucky? “A few small things. Nothing too significant. Except …” Max looked back up the stairs, trying to remember.

“What?” asked Isabel.

“I think his computer’s gone.”

“He took that honkin’ dinosaur with him?” Kyle asked disbelievingly.

“Not that one. He got rid of it earlier this week. Bought a laptop. Got wireless installed in the place and everything.”

Everyone but Liz and Serena cried out in dismayed tones, almost simultaneously, “Joe got wireless?!”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Isabel admonished.

“I didn’t think he knew what wireless was!” Maria gaped.

“I didn’t think he knew what the internet was!” Kyle clamored with a laugh.

“Me, either,” Ben concurred.

“Joe and internet porn,” Tess smiled, then shuddered. “Ooooh, the imagery!”

“Ew!” Isabel howled. By now they were all talking over each other until Max roared, “QUIET!!!!”

Everyone silenced. Paul was so surprised at the shouting, he leaped out of Liz’s arms, finding refuge hiding behind her legs.

“Thank you,” Max clipped, his control regained. “Now, we’ve got to figure out what to do with the store. Isabel, is there any way to put off the tour?”

Tour? Liz’s mind jumped into alert mode. Everyone seemed to have forgotten that she and Serena were there. She looked at Serena, who still had a hand on her arm. Her face was calm, even … serene. Ben must have told her the truth already. Good. Now she wouldn’t have to kill him.

Isabel shook her head. “There’s nothing we can do about that. The tickets have already been sold, openers arranged, hotels booked, endorsements made. We’re locked in November through February.”

“We can’t leave the store that long,” Max worried. “If anything goes wrong, there’s no one here to take care of it.” Isabel looked like she wanted to say something, but held back. “What?” prompted Max.

“We could … always … tell Dad.”

“No, Isabel.”

“But Max, he lives right here, and—”

“No!”

“Max, you’re not thinking ab—”

“Isabel,” Ben interrupted, “the note specifically says ‘don’t tell Philip’.”

“Actually,” pointed out Kyle, “it says ‘don’t tell Phil’.”

“Yeah, why does it say that?” Tess asked. “I thought your dad hated being called ‘Phil’.”

“He does,” answered Max.

“Oh.”

Isabel tried to make her point again. “I still say we tell Dad.”

Max looked around. “All in favor?”

Silence reigned.

“All opposed?”

Four voices said in unison, “Nay.”

“Motion failed. Philip Evans doesn’t hear a word about this.” Isabel looked ready to protest again, but Max cut her off. “Not a word.”

“So what are you guys going to do?” Maria ventured. “I mean, I can drop in from time to time, but I can’t be here every day while you guys are gone.”

“I know,” said Max. “I guess we’ll have to find someone to take over the store for a little while. I mean, even if it’s only open three or four days a week, it has to keep generating some revenue. And even I don’t know how Joe does all the accounting for this place, or if he has a separate bill for the apartment upstairs, or what.”

Isabel tried to be helpful. “I guess we could offer free room and board. The apartment upstairs is furnished. It’s not ideal, but it might make it easier to find somebody.”

“I’d be willing to put up some money for the person to spend. That way, it’d be like paying a salary. Plus, after the bills for the store are paid, they could keep the leftover profits. But who knows what the income and expenses and profit margins are on this place?” offered Max.

“Yeah, but do we really want a stranger taking over Joe’s store and living in Joe’s apartment?” Ben wondered. “I mean, even if the store is only a few days a week, it’s not like there’ll be anyone here to check with if something goes wrong, or to make sure the guy’s honest. None of us wants to come back from tour and find the place stripped bare.”

“Not to mention, if there’s any sort of emergency at all, there’s no one on site who really knows what they’re doing,” Maria pointed out.

As they talked, Liz looked around this store that she had come to love. Paul started walking around and between her feet, rubbing up against her happily. Liz thought about her hellish week at work, and all the awful weeks before that. She was overworked, underpaid, and too exhausted at the end of the day to pursue the things she really wanted in her life. Up till now, she hadn’t had any other options if she wanted to keep having a roof over her head and food in her stomach. But now, she found herself saying … “I’ll do it.”

She said it so softly at first, only Serena could hear her. “What did you say?”

Liz looked at her. “I’ll do it.”

The others heard her now. “What was that?” Ben asked.

“I said, I’ll do it.”

Serena was flabbergasted. “Liz, are … are you sure?”

Liz turned to her again. “Our apartment is month-to-month, and you’re practically living at Ben’s already. No,” she said when Serena tried to deny it, “you know you are. I don’t want to look for another roommate. You’ve spoiled me.”

“Well,” Serena shrugged her shoulders as if that the spoiling was to be expected.

Liz turned to Max. “You’re serious about paying a small salary?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

Liz thought about it out loud. “I can quit my job and get medical coverage for eighteen months. After that … well, I’ll cross that bridge when I get there. I could freelance more and supplement my income that way.” She looked back at Serena again. “I could really do this.”

Serena smiled genuinely. “You really could, Liz.”

Liz turned back to the rest of them. “I’ll do it.”

Max met eyes with Ben, Maria, Kyle and Tess, and saw acceptance and even encouragement in all their faces. Finally he turned to his sister. “Isabel?”

Isabel kept her expression neutral as she looked from Max to Liz, then back again, finally nodding her approval.

Max faced Liz again. “It’s yours.”

Paul the Cat, as if understanding what was going on before him, leapt back into Liz’s arms.

Liz hadn’t felt so free since she’d graduated college.

~*~*~

“So,” Ben said as he walked up to Serena. “Looks like you’re homeless now.”

“Looks that way,” she smiled.

“I suppose this means you’ll be wanting to move in with me,” Ben slid an arm around her waist.

“Hmm, hadn’t really thought about it.” Serena picked at some imaginary lint on his dark green long-sleeved shirt.

“Guess it’s no big deal, then.” He sucked her earlobe into his mouth lightly.

“Guess not.” Serena struggled to keep the moan out of her voice.

“It’s not like you’ve said you’ve wanted to.” Ben began leaving butterfly kisses on her neck.

“Not like you’ve offered.” She slid one hand under his shirt and around his waist.

“Not like you’ve hinted.”

“Not like you’ve hinted that you wanted me to hint.”

“Not like you’ve hinted that you wanted me to hint that I wanted you to hint.”

“This could go on for a while,” Serena pointed out. Ben started laughing. “What?” she said.

He pulled back. “That was way too easy. A week ago you would never have given in so soon.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t gotten much sleep this week, thanks to you. I can’t argue with my usual stamina.”

“Good thing you’re not moving in, then.”

“That’s right.”

Ben leaned in, cupped her jaw, and gave her a long, deep kiss, taking the time to savor her taste. When he felt her struggling for breath, he ended the kiss. “When can you be packed?”

“Next weekend.”

“Perfect. And baby?”

“Hmm?”

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with your stamina.”

~*~*~

“So just let me know when you want to move in, and I’ll make sure to have an extra set of keys ready for you then.”

“I’ll need help moving my …” Liz began uncertainly. Oh dear Lord, what had she done?

“We’ll move you in,” Ben reassured her before she even finished her sentence.

“We will?” Kyle guffawed.

“Yes,” Ben stated in a tone that left no room for questioning. “We will.”

“Damn right you will,” said Serena.

“Hey! Aren’t we doing you the favor here?” Ben smiled at her, holding her hand under the table the group was sharing at the Melrose Diner at 15th Street and Snyder Avenue.

Serena squared her shoulders and tilted her head upwards. “If you want me there when you come home every night, the least you can do is sweat a little for the privilege.”

“I already do,” Ben pointed out. That comment earned him a slap on the chest from Serena and a few lewd comments from Kyle, who was rewarded with some choice words from Tess himself.

One half of the table – Ben, Serena, Tess and Kyle – were all smiling, happy couples with a comfortable ease and an intimate manner. They made a startling contrast to the other four members. Max found himself stuck between a sister who was clearly upset and unhappy with the day’s events (and it wasn’t even eleven o’clock yet), a personal assistant that he hadn’t entirely forgiven for her breach of protocol, and a woman that he barely knew. Normally, the latter wouldn’t bother him at all, except that this woman wasn’t swooning all over herself. Which, unfortunately, left Max with the short end of the stick conversation-wise.

“So, uh, when do you want to move in?” ‘Nice opener there, Evans,’ Max thought to himself. ‘Real smooth.’

“Well, as soon as possible, I guess.” Liz honestly hadn’t thought about it seriously, but she supposed that if she was going to give her two weeks’ notice to the office on Monday, it would be better to get moved sooner rather than later.

Max looked up. “Hey Ben! Kyle!”

“Yeah?” they turned to face him, neither too pleased to have their attention taken away from the woman on their respective arms.

“What are you guys doing for the rest of the day?”

Ben looked pointedly at Serena and grinned. Kyle said, “I like his idea!”

“Hey!” Tess exclaimed.

“I meant with you, baby.”

“You guys wanna help move Liz into Joe’s place?”

“Today?!”

“Liz,” Serena said sadly, “today?”

“Oh, well, I …” Liz had been thinking of more like next weekend. Today … today was so soon.

“Right, of course,” Max wanted to hit himself for being so stupid. “You’re not even packed or anything. How about tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Liz parroted. “But … we have to give at least one month’s notice to our landlord.”

“So you give him notice. Doesn’t mean you still have to live there.”

Isabel watched them both with a clenched jaw, not at all sorry when her cell phone started to ring and she had to excuse herself from the table to answer it.

“Hey Liz,” said Serena, “I got an idea. How about tonight we buy, like, five bottles of tequila and sangria and we have a little party while we pack everything up? Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah, come on! We can buy gallons of bubble wrap and boxes and make a girl’s night out of it. What do you say?”

“Hey, can I help? I wanna have a girl’s night!” Tess smiled widely. She hadn’t had many girlfriends growing up. Most of the girls she’d known had been either unbearably insipid, or were convinced that Tess was out to steal their boyfriends. It was very unfair; after all, it wasn’t Tess’s fault that she had blonde hair and blue eyes with a petite waist and a C-cup, and talented besides. But since meeting Serena that morning, she hadn’t once felt any of the maliciousness she usually encountered from other women. And if Liz was her best friend, that was recommendation enough for now.

“You don’t wanna spend tonight with me?” Kyle asked, pursing his lips and making a convincing puppy-dog face.

“You need to save your strength. You’re moving Liz into Joe’s apartment tomorrow,” Tess justified.

“And we gotta move Joe’s stuff down to the basement,” Ben pointed out.

“Sure!” Serena agreed. “Maria?”

“Oh, um,” Maria looked down into her coffee cup. “I don’t think I can make it.” From the way she conspicuously avoided looking at Liz, the latter suspected that she had some plans with Michael.

“Well, come by if you can,” Serena invited. Isabel returned to the table. Hesitant, but not wanting to be rude, Serena looked up at her. “You want to come, too?” she asked, feigning enthusiasm.

“Can’t,” Isabel looked pointedly at Max. “That was Mom on the phone. She wants us to come over for dinner tonight.”

Max sighed. “I don’t imagine you told her I was having a lobotomy?”

“No.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Max,” Isabel sat down with an exasperated thump. “They’re our parents. We’re leaving down until after Christmas. You can spend a few hours with them.”

“Two,” Max grumbled. “Two hours. Then I’m out.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

“Fine.”

“Hey, guys,” Ben came to the rescue of his friend, “Did you know I can touch my nose with my tongue?”

“Ladies and gentlemen, my boyfriend,” Serena deadpanned.

~*~*~

“I don’t want to be here,” Max grumbled.

“Suck it up,” Isabel told him sternly.

“I don’t want to be here!”

“You’ll live.”

“I don’t want to be here.”

“Max, they’re our parents. Get over it.”

Max sighed. “Ring the damn doorbell.” Isabel complied. The door was gracefully opened almost at once, and the maid smiled, welcomed them, and offered to hang up their coats. Max pushed a small button on the side of his watch, and the digital face lit up with the numbers 2:00:00 before beginning its agonizingly slow (or, so it seemed to Max) countdown.

The maid led them into the living room, which had large bay windows facing eastward towards the front yard. Without thinking, Max walked immediately to the polished wooden bar against one wall. “What can I get you?” he asked his sister.

“White wine.” Max found a glass and an opened bottle. He pulled out the stopper and poured a glass, then handed it to Isabel over the arm of the couch where she had taken a seat. Then he went in search of the vodka for himself, pouring a healthy amount into a tumbler and adding a few cubes of ice. “Really, Max,” Isabel sighed. Muttering a curse, Max poured his concoction into a larger glass, and added some Canada Dry.

A tall middle-aged woman with blonde hair sailed into the room wearing an impeccably tailored skirt suit in a classy charcoal gray. “Hello, Isabel,” she said pleasantly as she leaned down to kiss her daughter.

“Hi, Mom.”

Diane Evans then walked over to her son and kissed him on the cheek. “Hello, Max.”

“Hi, Mom. How are you?”

“I’m doing well. How are you?”

“I’m fine.” Max sighed for a moment. He thought about Ben and the way he was with his parents. The Campbells were an extremely small, tight-knit family, and whenever Ben had the chance to see them these days the exchanges were loud, rambunctious and heart-felt. The brief words Max had just exchanged with his mother seemed empty by comparison. And yet, Max knew that in about five minutes, emptiness would be preferable to what likely awaited him when his father joined them.

“Where’s Dad?” asked Isabel.

“He’s on the phone with a client. He should be back soon.”

‘Yip-pie,’ Max thought.

“So Isabel, what happened to that young man you were seeing?”

Max checked his watch. Four minutes and thirty-eight seconds they’d lasted in the house before their mom had asked about their love lives. Diane had started hassling her children on this matter after they’d turned twenty-five, in an effort to try to have grandchildren before she was sixty. She was now four months past her fifty-sixth birthday, and in her opinion, time was running out.

“Jesse?” Isabel asked, mystified. “Jesse and I haven’t seen each other since August, Mom. I told you that.”

“Oh, well, I thought perhaps the two of you might have gotten back together. You know you two were so close …”

“We went out on three dates, Mom.”

“Well, you never know. Max, dear, what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you still seeing the young woman I always see on television? The one with all the leopard print?”

“Pam?”

“Is that her name?”

“Yes, that’s her name.”

“How is she doing.”

“I actually haven’t seen her for a few weeks.”

“Is everything all right between you too?” Diane asked, worriedly.

“I don’t know,” Max answered in some bizarre fit of honesty. He would have to remember to make a doctor’s appointment before he went on tour. Preferably someone with a deep knowledge of Freud.

“You don’t know? Have you asked her?”

“No, I haven’t asked her. We’ve both been busy lately.”

“Dear, you know you should make time for the special people in your life.”

“Well, you’ll be glad to know I have plans to get myself cloned in the near future.”

“That’s not funny, dear,” she said gently.

Max could almost feel the temperature in the room drop about twenty degrees. He turned towards the open entrance from the other side of the house, closer to where his father’s office was. Sure enough, there stood his father, making a daunting picture with his tall stature, large frame (larger than Joe’s) and wearing a dark blue suit.

“Philip!” Diane exclaimed. She walked over to him and put her hand on his arm. “Everything okay with Henry and Jo?”

“They’ve got some problems with their tenant,” he said with a dark overtone. “I told them they could come over for dessert to discuss it.” Max had to hand it to his dad; for all their differences, he was available for his clients with whatever they needed, whenever they needed it.

“So,” Philip asked, “what’s for dinner?”

“Braised lamb shanks, garlic roasted potatoes, brussel sprouts, butternut squash soup.”

Max turned to his sister. “Think it’s autumn?”

“Your mother worked hard cooking this dinner, Max.”

“You guys have a private chef. Mom just gave out the menu.” Isabel shot him a withering look. Max sighed. “It all sounds delicious.”

The room lapsed into a potent silence. After a few minutes, Max noticed his mother giving his father a similar look to the one Isabel had given him moments ago. Well, well. Looked as if the Evans women were in a conspiracy.

“So,” Philip cleared his throat, “how’s business?” He looked as if he’d swallowed an entire orchard of lemons on that last word.

“You mean, the band?” Max clarified. “It’s good. We’re going on tour in a month.”

Philip groaned. “This is how you want to earn a living? Traveling around the country in a bus?”

“I earn my living doing something I love, and that I’m talented at.”

“You could have been talented at lots of things, if you’d only given them a chance.”

“I didn’t want to finish school, Dad,” Max told him, seeing straight through his father’s thinly veiled comment.

“How do you know that? You barely even started!” Philip raised his voice.

The maid came in and announced, “Dinner is served.”

“Wonderful!” Diane said, a little over enthusiastically. “Let’s all go and have a nice, civilized” she glared once more at her husband, “meal.”

Max looked at his watch as the rest of his family filed out the door towards the dining room. Still one hour, forty-eight minutes and sixteen seconds to go.

‘Oh, shucking fit,’ he thought.

~*~*~

Dinner consisted of several more sparring matches between Max and his father, all interceded upon by either his mother or sister. He tried to keep it civil, if only for their sakes, since family dinner wasn’t exactly the right place to rehash old business. But when Philip made a comment that Max would never have dreamed of starting a band if it hadn’t been for his slacker, lazy, hippie older brother, Max flew from the table with a barely concealed distaste, scarcely taking the time to excuse himself. He walked quickly outside to the veranda, where he kicked the wall several times in frustration, each time emitting a heavy cry. This day was just becoming too much. Between Joe’s disappearance, and the store, and … Liz, his nerves had been on edge since long before he’d stupidly agreed to attend this dinner. What the hell had he been thinking? He wasn’t going to get his father to change his opinions about Max’s life choices.

But, damn it, he wanted to. Because maybe if he could just get his father to see that he wasn’t all bad, maybe there was still some hope. Maybe he could convince a couple of other people, too.

Not that he had anyone in particular in mind.

Muttering a string of curse words, Max looked at his watch for about the thirty-seventh time that evening. He’d made it through one hour, nine minutes. In other words, drinks, appetizers, salad and entrée course. Maybe he’d get lucky and his father’s clients would show up early, and he could excuse himself from this disaster.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Max pulled it out of his pocket and stared at the name displayed on the front screen. After debating with himself for a few seconds, he flipped it open and answered the call. “Hi, Pam. Yeah, I know I haven’t called you back in a while. I’m kinda dealing with some shit here.” He paused to listen as Pam spoke. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. See you in an hour and a half.”

As he hung up the phone, Max couldn’t help but think that having plans with one’s – for lack of a better word – girlfriend shouldn’t make one feel so … disappointed.

~*~*~

A pile of books crashed to the floor at Serena’s feet. “Oops!”

Liz put her arms around her stomach and laughed. “You … you arrrww so,” she howled, “so dwunk!”

“Uh, Liiiz?” Tess put her hand on her shoulder. “I zink we’re aallll drunk.”

“Nu-huh. Not mee!” Serena smiled.

“Yeah. Right. Gujob wizza books dere,” Liz said.

Serena put her hands on her hips. “I’m perfectly fine!” she proclaimed with a concentrated effort.

“Pick up zose books and puthem in the box,” challenged Liz. Serena succeeded in bending down and picking up four books before they fell on her foot and she went crashing, all five-foot-eight inches of her, to the floor. “Das whadday thought.”

“Oh, fuggedid. Whadr da boys fer eff notta pack up ar stuff fer us?” Serena picked herself up from the floor and dropped onto the couch next to Liz. She immediately spread out and put her head in Liz’s lap. “I’mma gonna miss you.”

Liz smoothed her hair with her hand. “I’m gonna miss you, too, Ser.” Serena wrapped her arms around Liz’s waist. Liz bent over so that she could wrap her arms around Serena’s waist as well.

“How long’ve ya guys lived togetha?” Tess asked from her spot on the papasan chair, feeling a little bad for interrupting the moment.

“Five yee-ahs,” answered Liz.

“Since we wah twenty,” Serena added.

“Juniah yee-ah o' college.”

“Wow.” Tess was awed. Five years was a long time. She hadn’t lived with Kyle for half that length of time, and sometimes it already felt like an eternity to her.

“Yeah,” sighed Serena. She snuggled more deeply into Liz’s lap. “Hmm, I’m sleepy.”

“Whaddime is it?” Tess yawned.

“Umm, …” Liz strained around to see the clock on the counter between the living room and the kitchen. “Two-thirdy.”

“How much havee had to drink?” Tess asked. Liz shuddered at the thought – the last time she’d gotten up to go into the kitchen, it had looked like an Attack of the Fancy Red Plastic Party Cups. Lime rinds, empty bottles of various kinds of alcohol, and of course used cups littered the area. The floor was covered with small paper Winnie-The-Pooh cups that had at one point held the strongest jello shots that Liz had ever ingested.

“I lossss count.”

“Okay.”

Liz took in a deep breath. Serena looked up at her. “Wassa matter?”

She shook her head. “Whatha hell have I gotten m’self into?”

“Whadya mean?”

“Dis mornin’ when I wok up, I had a job an’ an ‘partment an ma own life. Now, I dun’ even rec’nize that life anymowa.”

“Lizzie … you still got an apartment an’ a job. Iz just diffwent.”

“Yeah,” chimed in Tess. “It’s just daunting now ‘cause it’s so sudden.”

“Za woman speaks sense,” said Serena. “Izz gonna be okay. You’ll get used ta dis, too. An’ it’ll be better ‘cause you won’t hafta put up with those assholes atcha office.”

“Ser!”

“Iz twoo. You don’ lak ‘em.”

“No, but I don’ like dis guy, eeder. An’ now I’m puttin’ my whole life inis hands.”

“You don’ like Max?” Tess asked. Liz shook her head. “Daz too bad.”

“Why?”

“’Cause he likes you,” Tess said in all seriousness. “He trusts ya. He woodna let you move into Joe’s place if he didn’t like you.” Her head rolled back on the sofa chair. “Aw gawd, I’m drrrrunk.”

Liz unconsciously chewed her lip as she thought over what Tess had just said. Max liked her? Evil, Narcissistic, Misogynistic, Paul-The-Cat-Hating Stranger liked her?

Oh, God.

“Sewena,” Liz tried to shake her friend awake, but Serena was fast asleep in Liz’s lap. “Tess?” Liz looked up, but the blonde too had fallen asleep in the comfort of the easy chair.

The last thought that Liz had before sleep claimed her too, was that, clearly, the world had gone insane.

~*~*~
TBC

Had you guys fooled with the whole 'nudist colony' thing, didn't I? :D
Last edited by LairaBehr4 on Tue Sep 25, 2007 9:14 am, edited 6 times in total.
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Post by LairaBehr4 »

Well, I'm back ... sort of. Most of this part was written before last week, but I've finished it entirely now and I wanted to post it for all you guys. I wish I could say for certain when I'll be back with another part for this or any of my stories, but ... I actually start grad school in two weeks, and before that happens I have to say goodbye to all my friends and family here, and pack, and move, and settle into my new apartment in Syracuse. All this while continuing my 40-hr per week job and trying to recover from the cold I caught while I was at a family funeral earlier this week.

Fun, fun, fun.

But I wanted to reassure all of you that I am NOT leaving my stories unfinished. I resent it when other authors do that, and I do not intend to be one of them.

So, thank you to everyone for your patience and support during these last couple of weeks, which have not been easy. I really appreciate the way all of you have come forward with your kindness and good wishes. I can't say how grateful I am for all of you.

And so, without further ado, I present ...

Eats, Shoots & Leaves:

Or,

Looking for a Prince in a World Full of Frogs


Chapter Twenty-one – Huh?


“Well, you all seem to have taken your crabby pills this morning,” Ben noted sullenly.

Isabel quipped nastily, “Pot, have you met kettle?”

“Will you guys please keep it down?” Serena barked in as loud a tone as she could take. “Some of us are nursing wounds here.”

“You’re not wounded,” Isabel logically pointed out. “You’re hung over. There’s a difference.”

“Fuck you, Princess.”

Isabel shook her head. “Why am I even here again?”

“I don’t know, why are you here?” Serena narrowed her eyes.

Isabel breathed in angrily, her nostrils flaring. “I don’t know,” she said as the grabbed her purse and stomped towards the front door.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Ben took her by both her shoulders. “You’re here because no one organizes things like you do. And we need your help.” He lowered his voice and tilted his head towards her. “Please, Iz, She’s hung over and she’s tired and she’s losing her roommate of five years today. Please, just give her a break.”

After taking a moment to consider it, Isabel fumed as quietly as she could, “If she says one more thing, Ben, I swear to God, I’m leaving.”

“Okay.” He watched Isabel square her shoulders and turn back around. Well, that was one crisis averted. But the whole group of them seemed to be in one hell of a foul mood. Everyone seemed on the precipice of losing their tempers, and Ben had stepped into the role of moderator, putting his own bad mood on hold as much as he could and trying to keep everyone else from flying off the deep end.

Something about the day told him he was fighting a losing battle.

“Beeeeeen?” Tess called out in a whiney tone from her spot on the easy chair. “Where’s my boyfriend?”

“He’s at the store, moving Joe’s stuff into the basement.”

“By himself?!” she shrieked, bolting up in the seat.

“Ow! Tess!” Serena hissed with her hands over her ears.

Tess by now had raised her own hand to her forehead, her hangover apparently irritated by her exclamation. She settled back down. “Sorry.”

“I was over there earlier today and told him what needed to be done,” Isabel snapped. “Maria’s there with him.”

“Okay.” Tess closed her eyes and nodded, too ill and tired to think about it anymore.

Max’s footfalls came through the hallway and entered the front door. Liz noticed that his trademark smirk had been absent all day, replaced by the sourest of scowls. He stood silently and looked around the room for a moment. Finally he said sarcastically, “Don’t everybody rush to help out at once.”

Isabel cried out, “What the hell is wrong with you today? We’re all here and doing what we can.”

“Looks to me like you’re all just sitting around.” He lifted up a large box from the floor near the doorway, grunting with effort. “Don’t mind, I’ll just move all this shit myself.”

“Lay off, Max.”

Max shook his head and ground his teeth together. Ben, sensing a storm about to break loose, picked up another box nearby. “I’ll help you load these up,” he told Max and followed him down the hallway to the elevator.

As soon as they were in the elevator and descending to the lobby, Ben asked as gently as he could, “Man, what is up with you?”

Max looked down. “Don’t know what you mean,” he grumbled.

“You know damn well what I mean. What’s the matter?” Max looked unseeing at the elevator walls as Ben looked over at him. “Was dinner that bad?”

Max shrugged but still didn’t meet his friend’s gaze. “Usual.”

“Is it this thing with Joe? I mean, we could probably find him if we put some effort into it. He couldn’t have gotten too far.”

“Joe’s doing what he needs to do. He’ll come back when he’s ready.”

“Is it Liz? Do you want to talk some more about her moving into the store? We could work something out if you wanted to change the deal or find someone else to run--”

Max cut him off. “It’s not that.” The elevator bell rang, signaling their arrival at the lobby.

Ben let Max step out first. “Then what is it?” he asked again as he followed him through the lobby.

Max still stayed silent. He peered over to the doorman, an African-American man with a nametag which read “Sam” whom Max estimated to be around Joe’s age, or maybe a little older. He’d been watching them like a hawk ever since they’d arrived and said what apartment they were visiting. Max wondered what it was about those two girls that made everyone just jump over to their side. And judging from the glare that Sam was giving them even now as they headed towards the door, Max wasn’t about to risk his overhearing what he needed to tell Ben. The man might be twice Max’s age, but he looked capable of doing some serious damage.

Sam had come through on one point, though – he’d allowed them to park their moving truck in front of the building in the zone reserved for resident parking. That way, they wouldn’t have to trek around the corner to load Liz’s belongings. Somehow Max knew this was more for Liz’s benefit than for his and Ben’s, and again he pondered her ability to wrap so many people around her finger without even seeming to put forth an effort.

Once they were out the door, Ben put his box on the ground and worked on opening up the back of the truck. “Come on,” he encouraged, “talk to me.”

Max put his box down on the sidewalk next to Ben’s, and lifted one foot up to the running board of the truck before leaning an elbow upon his bent knee. He sighed. “I was with Pam last night.”

“Okay,” Ben nodded as he used the crank to lift the back of the truck open. A moment later he shook his head. “I don’t get it. Isn’t seeing your girlfriend supposed to put you into a good mood?”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Max muttered loud enough for Ben to hear.

“Okay, your fuck buddy, whatever.”

“No, I mean,” Max caught his eye, “she’s not my girlfriend.”

Ben’s eyes lowered as comprehension dawned. “Oh.” He finished with the truck and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry, man.”

“Don’t be. It’s not a big deal.” Max shrugged.

Ben wondered if Max knew how pathetic that actually sounded. Opting not to inquire, he asked instead, “So what happened?”

Max shrugged as he leaned back down to pick up his box. “We were hanging out at her hotel room and … stuff, and … I, uh … I didn’t …” he lowered the box onto the bed of the truck and pushed it towards the back. “I couldn’t, um …”

“Dude, that sucks.” Ben decided to spare his friend from having to articulate the problem specifically. “That ever … happen, like, before?”

Max gave him a look that clearly said, ‘what the fuck do you think?’

"Sorry. Stupid question."

"You're only human."

"How magnanimous of you. Okay, so you and Pam are broken up now. Officially."

"Yup."

“And you’re not sorry about it.”

“Nope,” Max said confidently.

“You’re sure?” Ben asked, though it came out sounding more like a statement than a question. He leaned back from the truck and started lowering the back again.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay, then.

“Okay.”

“So tell me something, then.” The back of the truck lowered with ease, thanks to gravity, and Ben slid the lock through the hook to secure the truck until their next trip down.

“Ben, you’re cute and all, but I don’t think it’d be a good idea. Serena kinda scares me. Plus with the whole band mates thing …”

“Shut up,” Ben shoved him lightly in the shoulder as they headed back inside. “Seriously, though. If you’re broken up with her and you’re not sorry and you don’t feel bad about it, then what’s with the shitty mood?”

Max nodded at Sam the door man as they made their way across the lobby towards the elevator. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t.”

“Nope.”

Seeing that one route of getting Max to talk was closed, Ben tried another. “So what was going on? Were you just tired or something? ‘Cause that happens to everyone. And especially with dinner at your folks’ house, it’s not really that big of a deal. Pam should understand that.” He reached over to call the elevator.

“She doesn’t.”

“Maybe if you say it in a Mickey Mouse voice?”

Max smiled in spite of himself as the elevator doors opened. “Shut up.”

“Okay,” Ben laughed, “bad idea. But honestly, it’s not that big of a deal.” Both men stepped inside the elevator, and Max pushed the button corresponding to Liz’s floor.

“It wasn’t that,” Max said dejectedly. “I just … had some stuff in my head that I couldn’t get out of it.”

“Tour stuff?”

“No.”

“Joe?”

“No.”

“And not your dad, you said.”

“Look, forget about it,” Max snapped without any venom in his voice as the doors opened once again. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Okay,” Ben said. He paused a moment as they walked down the hall towards the apartment. Then, at the last possible second before they got within earshot of the open door, he quickly commented, “Liz is looking very pretty today, don’t you think?” Then he jogged the few remaining steps to the door, leaving Max stunned in his wake.

“Hey, guys! Got any more boxes for us?”

“How the hell are you so damn cheerful?” Isabel asked, her voice laced with annoyance.

“Same way you’re so damn hot – it’s just the way I am,” Ben saccharinely said as he kissed her cheek.

“Oi!” Serena exclaimed at the same instant that Max called out, “Hey!”

“My god, it’s the PDA police!” Ben shot both his hands up into the air. “I’m innocent, officer!”

“Loser man,” Serena joked as she gingerly moved from the couch.

“Thanks, baby. I’m really feeling the love here. Why am I letting you move in again?”

“Because you can’t imagine your life without me.”

Ben pretended to think for a moment. “Nah, that’s not it.”

“Has anyone ever told you guys that you bicker like an old married couple?” Liz asked with a wicked smile. Serena and Ben visibly blanched, which made Liz and Tess to giggle in response. Tess, though, cringed again shortly thereafter. “Enough with the laughing. I’m getting a killer fucking headache.”

“I thought you already had a headache,” Isabel commented sharply. Tess closed her eyes and imagined squishing Isabel’s head.

Two successive knocks came from the hallway. “Um, hello?” Alex stepped inside slowly, trying to avoid stepping on or bumping into any of the boxes.

“Hey, Alex,” Serena said.

“Hi,” Liz too said as softly as she could.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I had class this morning.” Alex looked around, surveying the mess around him. Plastic shopping bags were everywhere, filled with anything and everything – some were trash bags, some were filled with things for Serena, and some had things for Liz in them. Scraps of bubble wrap littered the floor. Boxes both open and closed took up space as far as the eye could see. Plastic furniture bags and tarps were opened but not being used. In short, the apartment looked like a disaster area. “Um, what have you guys been doing, exactly?”

“Trying to reinvent the great American past time,” quipped Liz as she smiled. Max immediately wanted to beat the hell out of this guy.

“How’s that going for ya?” Alex smiled back. Max started counting the man’s life by seconds.

“Oh, splendidly.”

“Hey, Alex, you haven’t met everyone yet,” Serena suddenly said, effectively changing the subject. “This is Tess, Isabel and Max.” She pointed to each person as she said their names. “And this,” her voice emphasized as she lay a palm against Ben’s chest, “is Ben.”

“Hi,” Alex waved at Tess, who was still on the couch, and shook hands everyone else. “Nice to meet you all.”

“Hey,” Max said deeply when Alex stretched out his hand to him. He shook it, squeezing as hard as he could. Alex furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if he’d inadvertently stepped on Max’s toes, but couldn’t think of anything. If this was the Evil Stranger Man from the shop that Liz had told him about, it was probably better to try to just lay low. He turned to Ben as soon as he could politely do so. “Hey, how’s it going,” he said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Yeah, me too,” Ben replied with his usual easy manner and charm. “Serena’s told me about you.”

“All lies, I assure you,” Alex smiled.

“Really? Even the part about the trip to Vegas?”

Alex’s jaw dropped. “Ser! I can’t believe you told him about that!”

“Not my fault!” Serena defended. “He was saying that his friends partied harder than mine. What was I supposed to do?”

“You and your damned competitive instinct,” Alex shook his head. “Can’t you let some of them go? Just once in a while?”

“Well,” Serena blushed, “we might have had a bet on it.”

“I want half,” Alex said seriously.

Serena showed all of her teeth in a feline grin. “It wasn’t that kind of a bet.”

“Oh, God.” Alex turned away from her. “I can’t believe you’re using stories of my humiliation to spice up your sex life. That is just so …”

“Helpful?” Serena supplied.

“Disturbing,” he corrected.

“What’s this about Vegas?” Isabel asked.

“Nothing,” Alex, Serena, Ben and Liz all said at once. Isabel and Max shared a look of wonder, while Alex shot Ben a look of relief. At least the guy was on his side, he thought.

While he was looking at Ben, though, Alex noticed that there was something familiar about him. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but he’d definitely seen him before. But Alex had been so engrossed in his hotel and restaurant management courses at Philadelphia College and managing the restaurant four nights a week, having a life had fallen through the cracks. This packing scheme was the most social thing he’d done in weeks.

“Okay,” Alex rubbed his hands together, ready to get down to business. “What can I do?”

Isabel stepped forward. “Do you have a car?”

“It’s parked outside.”

“Then you can take me to the Staples on Chesnut. We need some more supplies.” She grabbed her purse from the floor next to the couch. “We’ll pick up lunch on our way back.” With that she marched straight out the door, clearly expecting Alex to follow her.

“Uh … bye, I guess.” Alex shook his head and headed out in Isabel’s footsteps. He hadn’t known her long, but from her erect posture and the way she presented herself, she didn’t strike him as the type of person that you wanted to piss off. If this was the sister who’d come here the day Liz had shown up at the restaurant, he had to hand it to her. It clearly took a damned courageous person to stand up to this woman.

The rest of the group fell a bit shiftless with the departure of their fearless leader, packing with more leisure and less intensity than they’d done previously. Some of the tension that had reigned earlier began to dispel as each of them pursued their own individual tasks.

Tess followed Liz into the kitchen to help pack up their things there, but on the condition that she’d be given something for her hangover. Three Advils later, Tess was still in misery, her head resting on the table as Liz wrapped pots and pans in bubble wrap and newspaper and placed them into boxes. There wasn’t much there, since both Liz and Serena had gotten by with the bare essentials for so long due to their hectic lives and skyrocketing student loans. It was about half an hour later that Liz returned to the living room, sans Tess. Ben and Serena were both there, packing up books from the shelf and trying to determine which books belonged to whom. Liz looked around when she noticed a missing person. “Um, where’s Max?”

Ben looked up. “He just finished bringing down the coffee table to the truck, and then he said something about a lamp.”

Liz turned and walked towards her bedroom, half expecting to see Max peering through her things as he’d done once before, on the day he came to deliver the lamp with Joe. Instead, though, he stood with his back to her as he removed the screws from the glass shade which held it in place on the stand. Tissue paper and bubble wrap were waiting, folded open in a large rectangle on the bed, next to an open box. The light bulb was on Liz’s makeshift desk. With a practiced care, his large hands cautiously lifted the shade and carried it to the bed, then wrapped it with care, making sure to leave no area exposed. Then he placed it into the box and grabbed a newspaper from off the floor. He tore it piece by piece, crumbling each one into a lopsided ball before stuffing it into the box to create more cushioning. Liz watched him with more fascination than she’d have liked to admit. The way his arms and back muscles shifted with every movement under his black shirt gave lots of inspiration for Liz’s imagination, which at that moment was more fertile than it had been in a while.

When he’d finished packing the box, he reached for the packing tape that was also on the bed, and with a few quick jerks had the box sealed and shut. Without turning around, he said, “Enjoying the view?”

Liz’s eyes grew as wide as saucers. “How did you know I was here?”

Max grinned at her over his shoulder. “The mirror there.” He beckoned to the mirror attached to her antique dressing table. “I saw you out of the corner of my eye. That’s a good vanity, by the way. The wood’s in really good condition, considering how old it is. It’s got to be at least, what, eighty years old?”

“The guy we bought it from said it was made in 1923,” she answered as she entered the room.

“Eighty-three years, then. I was right,” he grinned again.

“Lucky guess.”

“Guess? I’ve been working in the store since I was twelve. I’ve done more repairs and buying and selling of antique furniture than most. It wasn’t a guess.”

Welcome back, Mr. Moody, Liz thought. “It wasn’t meant as a criticism.”

Max walked back into the hallway behind her. “Hard to tell sometimes,” he muttered as he headed back towards the living room.

Liz sighed and rolled her eyes. So much for trying to be nice.

“Liz!” Serena yelled from the living room. “You have a visitor!” Liz turned and followed the path that Max had so recently taken. When she looked towards the door, she couldn’t help but give a wry smile. “Well, well, well,” she said, “look what the cat dragged in.”

“Good to see you, too.” Michael held out his arms to give Liz a hug. He knew that, despite her brave face, she was probably close to breaking down inside. When she’d called him the day before and told him that she was quitting her job and moving out of her apartment to run a store and pursue more freelancing jobs, she hadn’t been able to keep a small tremor out of her voice that probably would have gone unnoticed by anyone who didn’t know Liz as well as he did. But Michael was her family, and he could tell that she was frightened and excited and nervous and terrified all at once. The least he could do was be there. Liz easily stepped into his arms and stayed there for several moments. Michael lowered his head to hers and brushed his lips against her forehead.

Max pictured himself beating this man into a bloody pulp.

“I didn’t think you were going to make it,” Liz said.

“Figured I owed you,” Michael replied.

“Got that right,” snickered Serena. “Good to see you, Michael.”

Michael nodded in her general direction. “Serena.” After years of knowing Michael, Serena knew better than to be offended by the seemingly off-handed salutation. At least he wasn’t just saying “hey” anymore.

“Michael, this is Ben and Max,” Liz introduced.

“Hey, man. How’s it going?” smiled Ben.

“Hey.”

Max only glared at him.

“Tess is in the kitchen. Come on, you can help me pack up some more in there.” Liz led Michael through the beaded doorway into the kitchen.

“How many other people do you expect to show up here?” Max asked Serena.

~*~*~

“Can you guys pack up the beads next? Sounds like a fucking thunderstorm.” Tess still sat with her head resting against the table in apparent misery.

“Hung over?” Michael asked.

Tess looked up through hooded eyes. “Who are you?”

“Michael.”

“Oh. Hello. And yes.”

Without a word, Michael headed to the fridge and opened it. After gazing over the contents, he took two eggs and placed them on the counter. Then he rummaged through the cupboards, taking out a can of tomato soup, a can of New England clam chowder, a bottle of Tabasco sauce and a bottle of Worchester sauce. “Got any vodka?” he asked Liz, who pointed him to the very last bit of a bottle of Smirnoff. “Bowls.” Liz pointed to a cupboard where Michael found the bowls. He took down two of them. First he opened the tomato soup and poured it into the first bowl, and after he added water to it he placed it into the microwave. While waiting for it to be warmed up, he took a tall glass from another cupboard which Liz directed him to, and cracked the two eggs into it, along the last of the vodka, three drops of Tabasco and a generous amount of the Worchester. The microwave beeped, signaling its finish. Michael poured about half of the tomato soup into the glass and stirred it all together with a fork. Then he carried it over to Tess. “Are you pregnant?” he asked bluntly.

“You know, if I was feeling better, I’d kick your ass for saying that.”

Liz translated, “That’s a ‘no.’”

“I only asked because raw eggs aren’t good for a pregnant woman. Course, neither is drinking.” He placed the glass on the table next to her. “Drink up.”

Tess lifted her head over the rim and carefully sniffed the contents of the glass. Her face scrunched up and she stuck her tongue out. “Smells like garbage.” Still, she lifted the glass and took a sip. She had to cover her mouth to keep from spitting it out. “Tastes like it, too.”

“Wash it down with clam chowder,” Michael told her from the counter, where he was already working on stirring water and the canned chowder into a bowl. “It works.”

“I hope so. Otherwise, you’ve got some serious sadistic issues to deal with.” Tess continued to work on drinking Michael’s interesting take on a bloody mary, taking larger sips as she got used to the taste. By the time Michael brought her the soup, she was done. “Thanks,” she told him, then looked up at him curiously. “Who are you again?”

“This is Michael,” Liz reminded her. “He’s my cousin.”

“Oh. Hi.”

“Hey.”

“He’s very eloquent,” Liz told Tess with a smile, “don’t you think?”

~*~*~

“So what’s this about a trip to Vegas?”

Alex whipped his head to the side in shock. Isabel was sitting in the passenger seat of his car. “Um, what do you know?”

“That there was a trip to Vegas. And that your face slightly resembles a tomato right now.”

Alex cussed silently as he tried to keep the heat from rushing to his face. “It wasn’t anything, really.”

“Then tell me.”

Though he didn’t usually tell this story to anyone, and had actually sworn Liz, Michael and Serena to secrecy, something inside of Alex told him that it would be okay, maybe even a good thing, to share the story with the beautiful woman sitting next to him. “Well, a few years ago, Michael’s mom passed away. She’d been living in Florida, but Liz’s parents had the body brought back to New Mexico to be buried. It was around Thanksgiving, and I was home in Arizona at the time anyway, and Serena cashed in some air miles for us and bought all of us tickets to Las Vegas for a couple of days. The three of us decided to cheer him up by getting him into this really exclusive club that he’d heard about at a party he’d bartended for once. He mentioned the name to Liz, and she and Serena sent me to check out the place. Only it wasn’t a club.”

“What was it? A strip joint?” Isabel said matter-of-factly, wondering why he’d be embarrassed by that.

“Well, … no.”

“Then what?”

“It was more like a, um … lodging house for … fallen women.”

“‘Fallen women?’” Was this guy for real? “You mean it was a whorehouse.”

Alex cringed. “Do you have to say it like that?”

“Okay, it was a brothel. A nunnery. A, er … you know, I think those are the only synonyms for whorehouses that I know.”

“Well, anyway, it was just this really horrible experience. I still think Michael did it on purpose.”

“I don’t get what the problem is. Everybody has needs. And it’s legal in Vegas.”

“Yeah, I know, but it was really humiliating. I walk in and they were talking in these euphemisms, and I had no idea what was going on until they offered to take me into the V.I.P. room and there were all these whips and chains and stuff.”

“You’re not into bondage?” Isabel asked as coolly as she could.

Alex’s jaw dropped. “I, um … well, I just …”

Isabel couldn’t take it anymore and threw her head back with laughter. “Man, you gotta lighten up.”

“You know,” Alex chuckled, “that may be the first time in my life that someone’s told me that.”

“Maybe not to your face,” Isabel told him, still smiling.

“What about you?” he challenged. “Anyone ever tell you to lighten up?”

Isabel’s smile faded almost immediately. “It may have been said once or twice.”

“Well maybe we can help each other out then.”

“Oh, ‘help each other out’?” Isabel said suggestively, raising her eyebrows and giving him a crooked smile.

Alex blushed again. “That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it.”

“Yeah, but it’s worth it to see your face go from normal to scarlet in less than six seconds. I wonder if that’s a new record.”

“We’ll have to call Guinness and see,” Alex said as he pulled into a car park near the Staples. “So what are we getting here again?”

“Packing supplies. And I told them we’d get lunch, too. What do you think, Pat’s or Gino’s?”

Alex hit his head against his hand. The Great Philadelphia Cheesesteak Debate continued.

~*~*~

Hours later, when the packing was finished and all of Liz’s items were loaded into the truck, a small caravan made its way from Cherry Street to South Street. Michael, though, opted out of the trip to the store, staying behind to clean up some of the mess before Serena came back. Before they left, though, Tess asked him for his cell phone number, saying that the next time she had a hangover, she would definitely be calling on him. The man was a miracle worker!

The group parked their cars as close to Joe’s store as they could, and went inside to check out the progress Kyle had made before they started unloading. Max was the first one to make it up the front steps, stomping every step of the way. He barged through the front door of the store as the others trailed behind him along the sidewalk. He heard unfamiliar voices lumbering down the stairs and immediately stopped, using his body to block the doorway in case of any danger.

Momentarily, two teenage boys came into view from the stairwell, carrying an old wooden headboard that Max recognized as belonging to Joe’s bed. “Hey!” he yelled with as much authority as his voice could muster. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“Oh, holy shit!” the boy carrying the end of the frame closest to Max dropped it as his eyes fixed on Max’s face. “You’re Max Evans!”

“And who the fuck are you?!”

“Dude,” the other boy said, “pick it up, man. This shit is heavy.”

“Hold on,” Max demanded again. By now Isabel, Ben, Serena, Liz, Alex and Tess were all standing behind him, spilling out onto the front steps. Ben moved his way forward to stand with Max. “What the FUCK are you guys doing here?”

“Oh, we’re, uh,…” the first boy said as he picked up the frame again. “We’re moving the bed frame.” They moved away from the stairs with a practiced partnership and started heading towards the basement door.

“Yes, I can see that. What I don’t know is why you’re moving that bed frame or where you’re moving it to.”

The boys smiled at each other, then looked back at Max. The second boy answered. “We’re moving it down to the basement. He asked us to.”

“Who asked you to?” Ben demanded.

“Oh, hell,” the first boy said. “Ben Campbell!”

“What the fuck is going on?!”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Tess mumbled as she pushed her way forward and marched towards the stairwell. The boys’ jaws dropped as she passed them by. “KYLE!” she screamed.

“Oh, holy fuck!” the second boy said, getting star-struck for the first time. He stared after her with a watery mouth as she stomped up the stairs. Isabel followed her shortly thereafter, followed by Alex, then Liz and Serena. Ben looked at Max, shrugged his shoulders, and followed them upstairs.

Max groaned, then looked at the boys as menacingly as he could. “Don’t fucking go anywhere.”

The two kids looked absolutely thrilled to have been given a direct order from THE Max Evans.

“KYLE!!!” Max heard Tess screaming up in the apartment. Max hurried up the stairs.

“… believe you did that, Kyle! What the hell were you thinking?!” Tess continued to yell. Max turned at the top of the stairs and walked through the door that led into the apartment. Over the heads and shoulders of the others, he saw Kyle, sitting on the couch with his feet up. Various pieces of furniture and knick-knacks were missing from the room and walls and shelves.

“I was thinking that I could never get all this done by myself,” he defended with wide eyes. His arms motioned about the room, as if to say that moving Joe’s Spartan possessions to the basement would keep him there for years.

“You’re not doing ANYTHING, Kyle! You suckered those boys into doing all the work for you!”

“Hey! It’s all about economics, right? I mean, what’s one Sunday to them … and what’s a hundred bucks to me?”

“A hundred bucks?” Ben asked. “You’re paying those kids a hundred bucks each to move this stuff for you?”

“Not each,” Kyle smirked.

Tess sighed impatiently. “I’m going to kill you, Kyle, I swear. Didn’t we just say yesterday that we didn’t want strangers in here?”

“I thought that was living in here. This is just them moving stuff to the basement.”

“Where did you even find those guys? They look like they’re about fourteen,” Ben asked.

“Hey!” one of the boys responded as they came up the stairs. “We’re sixteen,” he huffed. Then he turned to Kyle. “What do you want us to get next, Mr. Valenti?”

Kyle shuddered. “Dude. Mr. Valenti is my father. It’s just ‘Kyle’. And what else is there?”

“Well, we’ve got all the furniture and stuff out of the bedroom, so now we just need to do the kitchen and the rest of what’s in here.”

Kyle looked at Liz with a lazy smile. “Liz, you want to look around and see if there’s anything here you want to stay?”

“Oh, well, I …” Liz was taken somewhat by surprise. Since Serena planned to move in with Ben, Liz had gotten practically everything – all the kitchen appliances, most of the furniture, … basically everything she was going to need.

But any response from Liz was rendered superfluous as Tess spoke up first. “Where do you guys even come from?”

“We live in your building,” the second boy answered with a proud grin on his face.

Tess shot a death glare at Kyle. “We’re moving.”

“Hey! They were glad to do it!”

“Get your lazy ass off of that sofa and start moving this stuff downstairs yourself,” Tess ordered.

“Where is Maria?” Isabel groaned. “I left her here so that she could prevent something like this from happening.”

“I sent her out on a few errands,” said Kyle.

“Dude, why?” Ben asked.

“Well we needed tape and bubble wrap and …” Kyle trailed off.

“And?” Tess demanded.

“Maybe some food … and beer…”

“BEER?!” Tess was shrieking again. “You were going to give a couple of underage kids beer? KYLE!!!”

“They’ve been working hard! They deserve a break!”

“Kyle, it’s ILLEGAL to serve alcohol to minors!”

“No one is going to know!”

“That’s right,” Tess stated, “because there is no way in hell that those two kids are getting beer.”

“Aw, man!” the first kid dejectedly exclaimed.

“Shut up,” Max, Ben, Tess and Isabel all instructed him in unison.

“What’s going on, guys?” Maria spoke up from the stairwell, behind everybody else. She carried several heavy paper grocery bags, one of which was carried lower than the other.

Tess pushed her way past everyone else and grabbed the heavy bag from Maria. “Please tell me you didn’t buy them beer,” she muttered angrily as she started rummaging through it.

“Are you kidding? They’re, like, fourteen.”

“We’re sixteen!”

Maria rolled her eyes. “Regardless, I bought non-alcoholic beer.”

“Oh, thank God,” said Isabel.

“See? Maria’s all right,” Alex told her.

Isabel narrowed her eyes. “How do you know Maria?”

“Liz introduced me.”

She turned to Liz next. “How do you know Maria?”

“Bit her head off, then knocked her down in the street.”

“Is that usually how you go about making new friends?”

~*~*~
TBC
Last edited by LairaBehr4 on Wed Aug 15, 2007 9:03 am, edited 5 times in total.
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Post by LairaBehr4 »

You didn't think I was going back on my promise now, did you? :)

Thanks, everyone, for all the support the last few months, through grad school and my family stuff and ... everything.

And as always, many, many thanks to Spray.

And, here you go.




Eats, Shoots and Leaves:

Or,

Looking For A Prince In A World Full of Frogs


Chapter Twenty-two – What Have You Done?


Liz shook her head, wondering if she was cursed for life. Somehow, for the first time, the party was following her. Last night, it had been at her old apartment; now, it was at her new one.

At least everyone seemed to be having a good time.

Kyle and Tess seemed to have made up from their earlier difficulties and were curled together on one corner of the sofa in a deep lip-lock. Ben was sitting on the floor with his back resting against another armchair and Serena in his lap. Michael and Maria were standing in the kitchen, which openly faced the living room where the rest of the group was gathered. They stood close to each other, talking in low voices and sometimes stealing kisses as gracefully as they could while both holding a drink in one hand. Michael’s spare hand grasped Maria’s waist, and Maria’s extra hand played with the hem of his Metallica T-shirt. Even Alex and Isabel were sitting at the window seat, speaking softly to each other and leaning in so they could hear. Sometime during the course of the evening, someone had put on some soft, sultry music, and now Six Under Ground was setting the mood for everyone quite nicely.

Liz herself was sitting uncomfortably in a sofa chair trying to ignore the sounds of lips smacking all around her. She had just one coherent thought in her head.

This. Is. So. Annoying.

At least she didn’t appear to be the only one bothered by all the coupling in the apartment. Max sat with his back against a wall and a sour expression on his face. If anyone seemed less pleased with the outcome of this evening, it was definitely him.

And Liz couldn’t stand that it was bothering him as much as it was bothering her. What right did he have to be bothered, anyway?

“Okay, that’s it,” Liz said firmly as she stood up with as much authority as she could muster. “Everybody out!”

“Aww, Lizzie,” Serena half-whined, half-moaned as Ben nibbled on her neck.

“No, I mean it,” Liz opened the door that led to the stairs to emphasize her seriousness.

“But cuz, it’s such a great party,” Michael said as he walked back into the living room, Maria’s hand in his.

“Save it for the preacher, Guerin.”

“Come on, Parker,” Kyle cajoled as he leaned up from Tess’s face.

“Out! Out! Get out!” Liz said in her best military dictator voice, pointing towards the stair well as she spoke.

“Think she’s serious?” Ben asked Serena.

“Don’t push me, Campbell,” threatened Liz, “or I’ll go to the papers with those pictures on my camera.”

Max’s head snapped up. The papers?

Serena gasped. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Don’t use my camera next time.”

“I couldn’t find mine!”

“Then save the nookie photos for another time! And for God’s sake, get a camera phone. Geesh.”

“Serena, naked?” Michael asked.

“Ah!” Maria exclaimed, hit him on the shoulder, and stormed down the stairs.

“Oh, shit,” Michael muttered as he followed her. He stopped in the doorway and faced Liz, one hand grasping the frame. “See you later, Liz. Come by the bar sometime this week.”

“Yeah, okay,” Liz said. Michael barely waited until she’d finished speaking before he flew down the stairs after Maria.

Isabel was the next to the door. She gave a small, brief smile that to Liz was a truly momentous step up from the way she’d treated her before. Liz looked over at Alex, wondering what he’d told her to inspire such a change on Isabel’s part.

“Thanks again for taking this place, Liz. If you need anything, just let me know.”

It was on the tip of Liz’s tongue to point out that she had no way of getting directly in touch with Isabel, but she decided to let it pass. She was pretty independent and if anything came up that she couldn’t handle by herself, she could always try Ben or Maria first.

Isabel stood waiting while Alex and Liz hugged and he wished her luck in the new place. Liz noticed that his hand held the small of Isabel’s back as they walked down the stairs together. She made a mental note to ask him how he’d managed to thaw out Isabel’s glacial personality later on.

Serena and Ben were standing up now, straightening each other’s clothes and not doing a very good job of it. Liz sensed that Serena was stalling, so she turned her attention to Kyle and Tess who were back to business as usual. “Valenti, you and your girlfriend want to take it back to, oh, say, your own apartment?” Lips still attached to Tess’s, Kyle waved his hand back and forth in a way that demonstrated his disinterest in the plan. Trying another approach, Liz said, “Hey Tess, don’t you have a couple of sixteen-year-old neighbors whose parents you wanted to have a nice, long chat with?”

Like magic, Tess sat straight up on Kyle’s lap before scrambling off. “Oh, baby, come on,” Kyle whined.

“Shut it, Valenti, that’s all the action you’re going to get tonight. I still can’t believe that stunt you tried to pull with those boys. Of all the stupid – see you later, Liz, good luck in the new place – bull-headed, ILLEGAL things to do. I mean, my God, Kyle!” Tess continued her diatribe as she made her way out the door and down the stairs. Kyle muttered a long string of swear words under his breath as he got up and started to follow her, stopping at the door to say, “That was cold, Parker.”

“Tell it to the judge.” Liz nodded in the direction of the stair well, from where they could still hear Tess’s scolding. Sighing in acceptance of his fate, Kyle followed.

Serena slowly walked up to Liz, trying to think of what she could possibly say to someone who’d meant so much to her for so long. After a moment of looking at each other, Liz finally said, “Don’t bother. I know.” Silently they hugged each other tightly as they prepared to face their first night not being roommates in six years.

As soon as they broke their hug, Ben stepped up behind Serena and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, giving her his support. Absently she leaned against him while her hands still held Liz. Liz noticed the gestures on both sides, and was struck by how well the two fit together. It was truly amazing to her. At that moment, her grief at losing a roommate was eclipsed by the joy she felt for her friend.

Ben spoke. “Liz, if you need anything, you know you can call us, right?”

Liz smiled at his use of the word “us.” “I know,” she said. “I will.” Ben smiled and quickly hugged her before taking Serena’s hand and leading her slowly down the stairs.

Liz looked at their departing forms until they moved out of the stair well. After that she followed them yet with her ears until their footsteps moved out of the store and through the front door. Liz sighed. Now she was truly alone.

She turned around, sighing, preparing to clean up a messy apartment for the second time that day. She bent down from the waist to take an empty cardboard box and fill it with trash when from behind her a distinct choking sound caught her attention. Startled, she stood up again and looked behind her. Max was standing with his shoulders hunched and his eyes intently fixed on her behind. Liz shook her head as she turned around, pointedly glaring to show she didn’t appreciate his gaze. “I thought you’d left.”

Knowing he’d been caught, Max tried to shrug it off as best he could. “Thought you could use some help cleaning up.”

“That’s okay, I’ve got it,” Liz said as politely as she could. She was tired and rather cranky and just wanted a chance to unwind and get used to her new digs. So when Max grabbed another box and started depositing used bubble wrap, mangled tape and other miscellaneous trash items into it, her hand clenched a fist. “I said, I’ve got it.”

“And I ignored you. This place is a mess, and you haven’t had a chance to really unpack yet.”

“I’m perfectly capable of unpacking my stuff by myself.”

“But it’ll go so much quicker with help. Especially the help of someone taller and stronger than you.”

“And who takes direction so damn well.”

Max grinned. “Hey, anytime I’m doing something wrong, you can feel free to speak up.”

Liz groaned, “This is me speaking up.”

“What is your problem?” Max snapped, stepping towards her, letting his agitation show. “I’m trying to do something nice for you here. You’ve never been up here before, you don’t know where everything is,--”

Liz interrupted him, getting her fighting face on. “I can figure this stuff out on my own. And if not, you’ve clearly shown that you have no problem barging in here when you’re not wanted, so I’m sure it won’t be that hard to find you.”

“News flash, sweetheart. I’m your landlord.”

“Joe’s my landlord,” Liz lowered her eyes for a moment, knowing that her statement wasn’t entirely true and that he would most likely call her on it. But she’d be hanged if she’d let him walk all over her privacy so easily. “And don’t call me ‘sweetheart.’”

Sure enough, Max’s growled as he moved closer so that she had to look up at him, “Joe’s not here, sweetheart, and he left this place in my care. You can’t stop me from coming onto what is, in effect, my own property.”

“Tenants have rights too,” Liz snarled, hands on her hips, “and they include a right to privacy.”

“Fucking Christ,” Max shouted, “I’m trying to do you a favor here! To do something nice and help you get settled after my band mates left this place a sty and walked out without even offering to help you clean up their mess. Why are you giving me such a hard time about this?”

“Because I told you I had it covered and yet you’re still here!” Liz responded, matching him in both tone and temper. “Why can’t you just—”

She was silenced by Max’s lips crashing down on hers.

He hadn’t been able to stop himself any longer. She was just so damn sexy when she was angry. She looked fierce and powerful with her long, dark hair hanging dark around her shoulders like the curtain she kept around her, keeping other people out. Max didn’t want to be kept out anymore.

And oh Lord, he was so glad he hadn’t. Her lips were so warm and soft, not greasy from gloss, but just right. His tongue was darting just between her luscious lips, tasting only the tip of what she had to offer. He was holding her body loosely and could smell her perfume, like apples and spring even in the late autumn. He knew she was surprised, because she was standing limply and letting herself be guided by him. But when she wound an arm around his neck and began kissing him back, all bets were off. His arm tightened around her waist and one hand crept to cradle her neck with his thumb brushing back and forth against the soft skin of her cheek. He tilted her head upwards and probed deeper with his tongue, running it along hers, tasting the sunshine and musk emanating from her sweet mouth.

Liz had no idea how they’d gone from fighting and shouting to kissing. She was still trying to figure it out, her mind buzzing with what she should do, when she suddenly realized … he was a really, really good kisser. He tasted like spices and forests. She’d had plenty of kisses before, but this one was so different than anything she’d felt before this. She felt dizzy and light, as though she could float away from his light, sensual touch. In an attempt to anchor herself, she wrapped an arm around his neck, and when he began to kiss her with more force, she could have sworn her feet left the ground.

Wait a minute … her feet had left the ground. Max had picked her up by her waist and was carrying her … well, actually, she didn’t know where he was carrying her. She’d only lived here a few hours.

“Wait,” Liz pushed her hands against Max’s shoulders. “Wait!”

“What?” Max asked softly, breathless from kissing her. His hands cradled her jaw delicately. “What’s the matter?”

“YOU!” Liz shouted, pushing him away with more force this time. “YOU’RE what’s the matter! God, why can’t you just go away and leave me alone?”

“Leave you alone?” Max’s hands dropped from her face as he started clenching fists. “You were kissing ME too, you know!”

“S-so? You kissed me first!”

Max smirked. “That’s a winning argument there, sweetheart. Really. Top notch.”

Liz screamed through clenched teeth. “How many times have I told you not to call me that? God, surely there are tougher things than getting you to leave me alone!”

“Yeah, like trying to give you a hand with ANYTHING! Just because you accept some help from someone doesn’t make you weak.”

Liz stepped close to him, eyes glaring and unblinking. “I. Don’t. Want. Your. Help.”

Max’s temper was hanging on by a string. Seeing her there, her body language just daring him to take her on, was causing the string to fray. “What the hell is so fucking repulsive about MY help?! You take Joe’s, Ben’s, even Kyle’s and Tess’s. You’ve known me longer than you’ve known them. You don't give me even half the time that you give any of them!”

“Joe and Ben and Kyle are all nice guys.”

Max grinned again, certain he could win this argument if that was all she had. “I’m a nice guy,” he smiled.

“Your girlfriend might not think so if she knew you were kissing me just now.”

Max’s confidence deflated. He hadn’t been expecting that one.

Liz noted the shock on his face and saw that she’d hit a sore point.. “Yeah, that’s right. I know about you and Pam Troy and about Infiltration and everything. You must have thought I was a real idiot if you didn’t think I’d be able to put two and two together like that. And someone really ought to call Pam and let her know what an ass she’s got for a boyfriend.”

“You shut up about me and Pam,” Max seethed, leaning in and pointing a finger at her. “You don’t know a thing about it.”

“I know that you were kissing me while you’re dating her. Shocking as this may be for you, not everyone takes sex as lightly as you do.”

“Oh, you think I just wanted a quick fuck because I’m a musician and I just can’t help myself?” Max angrily asked. “That’s what all this has been about, isn’t it? You think anything I say or do is just so I can get you into bed? Did you ever even stop to think that maybe not everybody can be broken down and categorized into these neat little labels you’ve constructed for yourself?”

“It’s not a label if it’s true,” Liz calmly clipped, eyeing him down.

Max looked at her for a long time, fuming. Liz wasn’t sure what to do, but she wasn’t going to give way a single inch.

They fiercely glowered at each other in silence until, without warning, Max turned on his heel and fled the room.

It was only after she heard the front door slam and the wheels of his car peel away that Liz let out the breath she’d been holding.

~*~*~*~

Serena abruptly sat straight up in the bed. Silently she waited until she heard the loud thumping once more. “Ben,” she whispered, shaking him. “Ben!”

“Huh?” Ben said, rolling over on his shoulder away from her.

“Ben, wake up!”

“Wha?” Ben yawned.

“Ben, wake up! There’s someone outside the door.”

Ben opened his eyes to mere slits and waited a few short seconds before closing them again. “Yer craishy,” he mumbled, then turned over onto his chest and slid one arm under his pillow as he drifted into sleep again.

A third noise echoed through the dark apartment. “Ben!” Serena hissed. “I heard it again! Get up and go see what it is!”

Ben propped his head up on one elbow and used the other to caress Serena’s naked stomach, easing toward her breasts. “How is it that you’re even still awake, anyway?” he yawned. “I thought I tired you out.”

“That was the other way around, and I’m serious! There’s someone out there.” Another bump against the door was heard. “See?”

“Yeah, I heard it,” Ben said, more alert this time. He crawled to the foot of the bed and placed his feet on the floor. Serena watched as he grabbed a pair of boxers and a T-shirt from the dresser against the opposite wall. Then he reached into the back of the closet and pulled out a baseball bat. “Stay here,” he whispered to her before he walked out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

Step by step Ben crept towards the front door. When he was only a few feet away, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around, raising the bat higher over his head. Serena, dressed in a pair of Ben’s sweats and one of his T-shirts, recoiled back until he realized it was her and lowered the bat once more. “I told you to stay in the bedroom,” he said.

“What, like a hooker?” she snapped back.

“I was thinking more like someone who doesn’t want to risk their neck.”

“Yeah, like I’m going to just wait for whatever’s out there to deal with you and then come for me.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Ben said, but even in the dark Serena could tell he was joking. He took a deep breath, then instructed in all seriousness, “Just stay behind me.”

“Now that I’ll do.”

Careful to stay out of swinging range of the bat, Serena followed Ben to the door. Her breath caught in her throat as he reached for the deadbolt, then swiftly turned it and opened the door.

Max fell backwards with the opening door, his head landing with a loud thump. The contents of his nearly full vodka bottle splashed onto the floor as a second, empty bottle rolled into the apartment through the open doorway.

“Max, what the fuck are you doing?” Ben asked as he turned on the light.

Max chucked drunkenly. “I’m heer ta say hello ta ma friendzzzz,” he said as he looked up at them from the floor. His eyes squinted. “You have a weird hallway ceiling.”

Ben handed the bat to Serena. “Gee, thanks, buddy,” he said as he leaned down to help Max up.

“I’m sewious, it’s weird from dis angle.”

Ben handed the bat and Max’s bottle of vodka to Serena, then lifted Max over his shoulder with a grunt and carried him to the nearby couch, setting him down with no delicacy. Max groaned in pain. “Why’dja do that?” he whined.

“You deserved it. It’s 4:30 in the morning, Max. What the fuck are you doing up at this hour?”

Max signed. “Cand sleep. Dontja know? I cand sleep alone. Ama sushesh … suchecks …,” Max struggled with the word, “suck-sess-ful rock star. I haffta find some woman I donn care about and get her into bed with me. That’s the only thing I know how ta do. It’sh part of the label.”

Ben looked at Serena pointedly. Taking a hint, she went to dispose of the vodka bottles in the kitchen so Ben and Max could talk.

“Is this about Pam?” Ben asked. “I thought you didn’t care about that. She was never good enough for you anyway. I’ve seen Vegas dancers with more class.”

Max laughed as though Ben had said the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “Hahaha, Vegas dancers,” Max wheezed with laughter.

Ben chortled, “Okay, take it easy, buddy. Don’t hurt yourself or anything.”

Max continued laughing. “No, you …” he struggled to catch his breath, “you said Pam wasn’t good enough for me.”

“That’s right, she isn’t,” Ben said.

“Do you know who is?” Max asked, pleadingly.

Ben was confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Max said as he squirmed a little on the couch, “how did you get Serena? I mean, a girl like that …”

“Easy on, mate,” Ben said, firm yet casual. “Serena’s spoken for.”

“I know, but … how’d you do it? I mean, I try to do something nice for her. She needs a place to live, I let her stay in Joe’s apartment for free. She needs help movin', I help move her in. We make a mess of the place, I stay an help her clean up. I kiss her, and … oh fuck, she’s such a good kisser. I like kissin’ her.”

“You kissed Liz?” Ben asked. Max nodded. Before he could say anything else, Ben he heard Serena walking from the kitchen behind him towards the hall that led to the bathroom and the music room. He kept his gaze on her, suspecting she’d heard everything, but she didn’t turn around to look at them once. After she’d disappeared around the corner down the hallway, Ben whispered, his head in his hands, “Good God, Max, what have you done?”

A frown marred Max’s face. “She didn’t wanna kiss me. She said I just wanded to fuck her.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes … no … I dunn want juzz that. I want more’n that, too.”

Serena came back from the hallway carrying a pillow and afghan blanket. Ben stood up and took the pillow from her, and then lifted Max’s head to put the pillow behind it. When Max was settled again, he unfolded the blanket from Serena’s arms and laid it out over Max. “Get some sleep, Max,” Ben advised, “you’ll be needing it. I guarantee you that.”

Max’s eyes were already closed. “Mmkay,” he sighed, “I’ll go ta sleep and dream of kissing.”

Ben laughed. “That’s the twelve-year-old I know and love.” He took Serena’s hand and led her back towards the bedroom, turning out the living room light along the way.

Once the door was closed behind them, he turned to her. “So, how much did you hear?”

“What do you mean?” Serena asked, too quickly.

“I mean, when you were listening in. How much did you hear?”

Flabbergasted, Serena stuttered, “I, I wasn’t trying to listen in.”

“Sure you weren’t. So come on now,” he smiled, “’fess up. What did you hear?”

“Oh,” she shrugged innocently, “not much.”

“Not much, huh?”

“Yeah, you know … bits and pieces.”

“Bits and pieces.”

“Blurbs, really.”

“Blurbs.”

“That’s right.”

“So basically, the whole thing?”

“Basically, yeah.”

Ben sighed. “He’s not a bad guy, you know.”

Serena, in a rare moment of complete and utter seriousness, nodded. “I know.”

“You do?” Ben said, surprised. He squinted his eyes at her as they both laid back down on the bed. “How?”

Serena curled herself into Ben’s arms. “He’s friends with you. That’s good enough for me.”

Ben chuckled and kissed her on the forehead. “You really are amazing, you know.”

Serena closed her eyes and smiled as she fell back into sleep. “Thank you for noticing.”

~*~*~
TBC
Last edited by LairaBehr4 on Wed Aug 15, 2007 9:05 am, edited 4 times in total.
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Post by LairaBehr4 »

Who's there?

It's me!

Sorry about the lack of updates. School and all. You guys understand. But the PHENOMENAL Blue October concert this past weekend has done wonders for my relaxation, and so, here I am!!

Thanks to:
Sprayadhesive (x2) - yeah, I liked the hooker line, too. :D
Futuremrsmcdreamy (x2)
Ms_BuffyAnneSummers
Cocogurl (x2)
Elci
Alien_Friend (x2)
Michelle In Yonkers (x4) -
What can I say? Liz is tough. Oh, and wait until you see what Pam does next ... Sorry you had to resort to begging.
Orangesky (x2) - yeah, well, it's all about the growth. And, there was a reason why I chose 'Jesse's Girl' for Max to sing at a concert in an earlier chapter. Oi, update something, will ya?
Katydid (x2)
thetvgeneral (x2)
Rowedog
Dreamsatnight
Alien614
Clueless (x2)
Begonia9508
Emz08m
Guelbebek
Maya
Raemac (x4)
BehrObsession
Roswell3035
Raychelxluscious
Arianneleigh
Behrluv32
Cereth
pookie76 (x3)
Synera -
welcome!
Nicoletta


Eats, Shoots & Leaves:

Or,

Looking for a Prince in a World Full of Frogs


Chapter Twenty-three – The Impulse to be Musical


Max’s eyes were shut tight as he rested peacefully in a deep, dreamless slumber. He felt as though he was floating freely and sweetly through a dark, starless sky.

CLANG!!!!!

He practically crawled over the back of the couch, his eyes wide and his jaw open in shock.

Serena stood next to the sofa wearing a charcoal pinstripe suit with large cymbals in her hands and a smile on her face. “Good morning, star shine,” she said cheerfully.

Max grumbled something indiscernible and closed his eyes as he slumped back down on the sofa.

The cymbals rang loud, over and over again. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!” Serena yelled.

“Fucking Christ, Serena,” he whined as he turned over onto his back. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“Well, among other things, I got a very bad night’s sleep. Huh. Wonder why that is.” She gave him a pointed look which Max avoided as best he could. “And I have to be at work in half an hour. Which means you’ve got,” she looked at her watch, “eight minutes to convince me that you have some legitimate reason for acting the way you do.”

“Don’t know what you mean,” Max said as he rubbed his eyes. Subconsciously he licked his lips, looking for any left-over trace of Liz’s taste. He let out a groan when all he found was stale alcohol.

“Riiiight,” Serena smirked, as though she knew exactly what he’d been doing. “Keep trying that one on me, and I might just get overcome with the impulse to be musical again.”

“What have I done to deserve this?” he sighed dramatically.

“Darling, I’m not the one who showed up here at MY apartment at three in the morning, drunk out of my mind.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Max rubbed his eyes again as he sat up. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Remember that moving job we did today? That’s my old roommate living in your uncle’s apartment, which leaves me homeless. Your idea, as I recall,” Serena told him as she placed the cymbals down on a table on the other side of the room.

“No,” Max said. “Not mine.”

Serena walked back towards him, frowning. “You sound as though you don’t want her there.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think it’d be like this.”

“Don’t even pretend that you weren’t thrilled with this plan.”

Max snorted through his nose. “You’d think that’d be fairly obvious, wouldn’t you? Christ, I got my mates to move her for free, I tried to help her settle in. What does she expect?”

Serena laughed. “What were you expecting? A bloody welcome mat outside the bedroom?”

“No!” Max shouted, astonished. He tried to get off the couch, but his protesting head stopped him. Groaning, he settled back onto the couch. “She’s not like that.”

“You’re damned right she’s not. But I already know that. What I want to know is, are you like that?”

Max opened his mouth to answer, but found that nothing would come out.

“I thought so.”

He sighed. “I’m not the jackass you’re making me sound like, you know.”

“You have a girlfriend,” Serena said matter-of-factly, without judgment.

“No, I don’t.”

“I saw her picture on the cover of Us Weekly.”

“We broke up.”

Serena paused. ‘When?”

“Couple days ago.”

“What brought that on?” Serena asked, not to be fooled.

Max shrugged. “S’ time.”

Serena shook her head. “Max, Max, Max …” she said as she sat down on the couch next to him. “You do remember I’m a lawyer, right? I can spot the bullshit a mile away. Now, why don’t you try telling Auntie Serena the truth.”

Max breahed in deeply. “It’s not a lie. We hardly saw each other, and it’s not like we were ever really committed. We were there, and … that was that.”

“Okay, that’s something. Now, why do you go around deliberately trying to piss Liz off?”

“I don’t try.”

“I wouldn’t go around bragging about that.”

“Don’t you have to go to work?” Max bit out.

Serena looked again at her watch. “I still have three minutes.”

“You know, even the rudest interviewers at least pay for coffee.”

“I’m only a poor little thing.”

“Serena, Serena, Serena,” Max patted her knee. “You do remember I’m an entertainer, right? I know the lawyer’s cut that comes out of my paycheck. Now, why don’t you try telling Uncle Max the truth?”

They sized each other up for a moment, until Serena said solemnly, “Liz is my friend. She’s my best friend. She’s one of the best people in the world. She deserves more than just a guest spot in your revolving door of women.”

“She’s not,” Max told her.

“Good.” Serena got up and went to the front door, picking up her purse and briefcase that were waiting next to it. “Try not to burn the place down while I’m gone,” she said in farewell.

Utterly depressed with the course of the morning, Max laid back down and tried to fall asleep again.

~*~*~

“You’re what?!”

“I’m quitting.”

“You’re quitting?”

“That’s right.”

“You’re quitting?”

Liz wondered if her boss was suffering from sudden hearing loss. “Yes, I’m quitting.”

“Liz ... why?” Thomas Hunter asked, confounded. Liz was a former student with loans to repay. He’d expected her to be here for another two or three years at least.

“I’ve had another offer, and I’m taking it.”

“UPenn press?” Thomas grumbled. Those guys were always stealing his best workers.

“No.”

“National?”

“Nope.”

“North American?”

“No.”

Thomas sighed. “I give up.”

“Joe’s Antiques on South Street.”

Thomas’ jaw dropped.

“I’ll be out in two weeks, then?”

“An antique shop?!”

“That’s right.”

“I’m confused.”

“That makes two of us,” Liz murmured as she walked out of his office.

When she got back to her desk, she clonked her elbows on the desk and cradled her head in her hands. What the hell was she thinking? She had to be insane to take this “job,” such as it was, from Max. Not to mention that kiss the night before … What could she possibly be thinking?

This deal she and Max had concocted had to be the most stupid thing she’d ever agreed to. She was starting a job she’d never had before and didn’t know anything about. Her parent’s café, the Crashdown, only sold merchandise during the holidays, like New Year’s or the anniversary of the Roswell crash, and it wasn’t usually difficult to get people to buy. Selling food wasn’t the same thing – after all, you pretty much knew as soon as people sat down that you had a sure sale. If she didn’t run the shop into the ground within three months, it’d be a miracle.

And who knew how long she’d be in this position? Joe was gone, and no one knew where he was or when he’d be back. What if she was still in the shop in ten years?

And when did she think she was going to do her freelancing? Articles like that took a lot of time and research, and usually some pretty dogged reporting and follow-ups since people were reluctant to talk if you weren’t a credited member of the press.

And Max … that was the worst part of the whole thing. She had placed her trust in him to provide enough money for her to be able to take care of the shop and pay the necessary bills, but her faith in him had never been very great. And after last night, she just had no idea what to think.

That wasn’t true, actually. She did have one thought that kept going through her head.

She had to be insane.

Her office phone rang. She looked up and eyed her computer screen and was shocked to discover that nearly 20 minutes had passed since she first sat down at her desk.

“Editing, Parker.”

“Sleeping, Guerin.”

Liz smiled. “Michael, it’s ten-fifteen in the morning. Why are you still asleep?”

“Late night.”

Liz could almost see the grin on his face. “Spare me the details. What’s up?”

“Thought you’d want to celebrate your last two weeks at the office with me.”

“Where and when?”

“How about the bar at twelve thirty? I’ll have ‘em open up early for us.”

“Isn’t it bad luck to eat where you work?”

“With the low, low, low employee discount, I consider it bad luck to eat anywhere else.”

A laugh escaped from Liz’s throat. “Okay, you’re on.”

“Great, see you then.” There was a soft rumbling on the other end of the line. Michael quickly said, “By the way, Maria’s joining us,” before he hung up the phone, leaving Liz, slack-jawed, holding the receiver.

~*~*~

“Hello?” Isabel cooed sleepily into her cell phone.

“Hi, um, Isabel?”

“Who’s this?”

“It’s Alex, from yesterday. You gave me your card.”

Isabel sighed. It was too early for phone calls. “Yeah, hi, Alex,” she said, while her mind raced thinking, who’s Alex?

“Yeah. Uh, hey, I was wondering, do you want to get some coffee sometime?”

Isabel closed her eyes and sleep began to claim her again. “Like when?”

“Maybe towards the end of the week?”

Isabel groaned, knowing she’d never remember this later on. “Can you call me in about five hours and ask me again?” she said.

“Five hours?” asked Alex, sounding confused and disappointed.

“Yeah.”

“Um, … okay.”

“Thanks. Good night,” Isabel said as she hung up the phone.

On the other end of the line, Alex glanced at his watch. It was eleven-seventeen in the morning. “Good night?” he asked aloud.

~*~*~*

If Isabel had been hoping for more time to catch up on her beauty sleep, she was doomed to disappointment. It was less than fifteen minutes after she’d hung up with Alex and just as she was beginning to fall into a deep sleep that her cell phone once again began chiming to the tune of ‘Mr. Big Stuff.’ Her mined jumped into panic mode as she realized exactly who was calling.

“What’s wrong?” she said after she flipped open the phone.

“Isabel,” said the stern, commanding voice on the other end of the line. “Have you happened to stop by a news stand today?”

~*~*~

“Do you think, if I go back to the office intoxicated, they’ll fire me and I’ll get severance pay?” Liz asked.

“It’s worth a shot,” Maria smiled as she raised her pint glass.

“Hear, hear,” Michael echoed her movement.

“Here’s to shots in hell, then,” toasted Liz.

“To shots in hell,” echoed Maria.

“Hear, hear,” Michael said again.

“Will you be expanding your vocabulary to more than one word today?” Maria asked.

“No, no,” Michael said, his mouth turning upwards. Liz stifled a grin behind her beer.

“You’re impossible.”

“Yes, yes.”

Maria rolled her eyes and turned back to Liz. “Let’s ignore Monosyllabic Boy and get back to the important stuff. What did your boss say?”

“He kept trying to guess what company I was moving to.”

Maria smirked. “I’m guessing Evans Antiques Incorporated wasn’t on the list.”

“Definitely not.”

“You keeping your medical care?”

Liz blanched as she mentally added that to the list of things she needed to take care of before quitting her job. “Do I need to? I mean, do you even get health insurance?” Even as the words left her lips, Liz wondered if she even wanted to give Max access to that kind of information.

“Oh yeah I do, it’s wonderful! It covers everything. Since it’s a small business, I just give Max or Isabel a copy of all my bills and receipts and stuff, and they cut me a check.” Maria continued to gush over how great her coverage was, and Liz’s fears were comforted a little.

“I still need to talk to him about what stuff he’s going to pay for and what he’s not. For the store, you know?”

Maria noted Liz’s frown. “You don’t seem too happy about it.”

“Well,” Liz said, “every time we try talking, we just end up snapping at each other.”

Maria threw Michael a look that he ignored and Liz didn’t notice.

“Well, I’d do it soon,” Maria said. “He’ll be leaving town at the end of this week.”

“He will?”

“Yeah,” Maria furrowed her brow. “They’re going on tour just before Thanksgiving. Didn’t you know?”

Liz shook her head, stunned. “No,” she said, though somehow she seemed to recall something mentioned about that somewhere. But she couldn’t remember hearing any details.

“Another three weeks, and they’ll be gone until Valentine’s Day,” Maria continued. “I think they have a short break around Christmas and New Years’, but other than that, they’re on the road in U.S . and Canada. I think Isabel’s trying to arrange a couple of shows in Europe towards the end of the tour, too.”

“They’ll be gone for four months?” Liz asked.

Before Maria could answer, her phone started ringing with the ominous tune of Brahm’s Hungarian Dance. Eyes wide, Maria picked up the phone. “Yeah? … What?! … You’re kidding… Yeah, I’ll be right there.” She hung up and hurriedly gathered her things. “Sorry, guys, I gotta go. Work emergency.” She pecked Michael on the lips as she flew out of the bar. “I’ll call you later,” she said, and then she was gone.

“What was that all about?” Liz inquired.

Michael shrugged. “They don’t call her Hurricane Deluca for nothing.”

~*~*~

“Where IS he!” Isabel shouted.

“I don’t know!” Maria shouted back as she dialed numbers into her phone.

“Do you realize how bad this is?” Jonah, a tall, imposing man in his late 30’s said. He wore a pinstripe suit that screamed of power and authority. “It’s already all over the web. By the end of this week, they’ll have these pictures on the front page of every tabloid in the country.”

“She’s stalking him!” Isabel exclaimed.

“That’s not what it looks like here,” Jonah retorted.

Meanwhile, Maria impatiently tapped her foot while listening to the mechanical sound of Ben’s ringing cell phone.

“’Lo,” Ben answered.

“Ben, Maria. Family emergency. Have you seen Max?”

“Max?” Ben asked.

“Yeah, Max. Tall guy. Black hair. Big ears. Usually stands to your left with a big spotlight shining on him.”

“Oh, that Max,” Ben lazily responded.

“BEN! This is serious! Where is he?”

“I just left him with some major nausea and a headache at my apartment,” Ben answered. “Is somethi-”

Maria didn’t wait to hear the rest before flipping the phone shut. “I found him!” she yelled at Isabel and Jonah. “He’s at Ben’s.”

“What’s he doing at Ben’s?”

“Nursing a hangover.”

Isabel sighed. “Everyone in the car.”

~*~*~

The banging on the door was so loud that Max began to wonder if the entire world was against him today. He shouldn’t have sent Ben out on that errand for him. At least, if Ben was there, he wouldn’t have to try to navigate his way from the couch to the door, which was proving much more difficult than it sounded.

“What the hell?” he asked when he opened the door to the hazy figures of his sister, his personal assistant, and his public relations manager.

“Pam Troy was arrested in your apartment building last night,” Isabel said with no hint of a smile.

“More specifically, early this morning,” Jonah added.

“What?! Why?”

“Apparently she went to visit you at your apartment. The security guard wouldn’t let her up,” Isabel kept glaring into his eyes, clearly furious that he hadn’t kept her in the loop with all that was going on. “When he tried to take the key back from her, she started screaming and throwing things in the lobby.”

“She what? Is everybody okay?”

“Everyone but Pam,” Jonah said, handing Max a tabloid as he made his way into the apartment. Isabel and Maria followed him in.

Max stared at the cover in a state of shock. There was Pam, in handcuffs, her clothing torn, her eyes red and make-up smeared all over her face. Several red marks trailed up and down her arms as though she’d been grabbed and roughly handled by the numerous police officers who surrounded her.

“This is insane! We broke up a couple of days ago.”

“Thanks for keeping us in the loop, Max,” Isabel sarcastically said.

“I was going to tell you when it came up,” he defended.

“Yeah, well, it didn’t come up, and now it looks like you ordered them to treat her like this!”

“All I did was tell the front desk people that she wouldn’t be a guest of mine anymore, and that if she came, to please ask for the key back!”

“Well,” Jonah said,” they did a hell of a job.”

“Right before we leave on tour, Max?” Isabel pointed out. “This makes you look like you’re abusive! She’s claiming YOU gave her those marks on her arm!”

“WHAT!” Max yelled for the first time. “That is ENTIRELY untrue!”

“A picture is worth a thousand words, Max,” Jonah plainly said.

“Well, this one is worth a thousand too many. Why were they so violent with her?”

“She punched one of the security guards and threw the log-in book at the other,” Jonah said.

“Oh, fucking Christ,” Max muttered. “Maria, can you please find out from the management at the building whether the guards need any medical care, and please let them know that I want to pay for it if they do?”

“I’m on it,” Maria said as she pulled out her cell phone again. Briefly she wondered it if was possible to get these things surgically attached to your ear.

“We’ll have to do a press conference before we head out on tour, Max,” Isabel told him. “All the major gossip sites already have Pam’s version of the story. Perez Hilton is having a field day.”

“I thought he hated Pam?” Max inquired.

“He does. He’s got a picture of you with a drawing of supportive banners all around, and another one of Pam that’s not very flattering.”

“Fucking Christ,” he said again. More than anything he wished he could go over to Joe’s and talk things over with him in a place that still felt safe from the rest of the world. But Joe wasn’t there anymore. And after last night, Max doubted Liz would be willing to hear him out, either.

“You guys kick off the tour here on Saturday. That afternoon, after the sound check, we’ll have a press conference at the Hilton,” Jonah stated, calmly and plainly. “Depending on how the wind’s blowing by then, we might need the rest of the band to come too, to show some solidarity. In the meantime, I’ll release a statement on your behalf saying that you were unaware of Pam’s intention to visit that evening, that you weren’t home, that you two had broken up before Sunday and that you have no idea why she acted the way she did, but that you’re sure the police responded only with what force was necessary to restrain her and keep her from harming others.”

Max flicked his eyes at Isabel, silently checking with her whether the statement was acceptable. She nodded. “Write it up,” he told Jonah.

“Good. And in the meantime,” Jonah said, standing to leave, “stay out of trouble. Don’t go out in public any more than you absolutely have to. No drinking, no women with big mouths. And absolutely, absolutely no cameras. Get a wig if you have to, but don’t you dare let yourself be recognized. Until this blows over, it’ll be news if you do so much as buy a candy bar.

“I’ll email you some statements by Friday night. You should have them memorized before the conference. Don’t talk to anybody, don’t even pick up your phone unless you recognize the number. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good.” Jonah made his way past Max again and towards the front door.

Isabel stood up from the couch too. She looked serious, but not angry or stern. “You should probably stay here for a while. Your building is surrounded by paparazzi. If you need anything, let me or Maria know and we’ll go and get it for you.”

“Thanks, Iz.” They hugged.

Isabel pulled back to look at him. “Are you feeling okay?”

“As good as I can be, under the circumstances, I guess.” Max tucked his head down.

“You still hung over?”

“Nah, just tired. Though this whole thing now has given me a headache.”

“Take some Advil and get some sleep. Call me if you need me.”

“I will.”

Isabel stepped out as Maria hung up the phone and addressed Max. “The two guards from your building were checked out by the paramedics last night. They’re a bit bruised, but they’re all right.”

“Find out their addresses for me. I want to send ‘em a fruit basket or something.”

“You got it.”

“Thanks, Maria.”

“No prob.”

With a final round of goodbyes, the trio left Max alone with his thoughts again. He lied down on the couch, his head spinning with thoughts of Pam and what the hell she could have been thinking. All things considered, it probably could have been a lot worse than it was. At least he hadn’t been there when she’d stopped by: the papers were making enough of his involvement by his conspicuous absence, so he could only imagine the stories they’d have concocted if he’d been at home.

Twenty minutes later, Ben walked in.

“Hey,” he said. “You know, Maria was looking for you.”

“Yeah. She found me.”

“Everything all right?”

“Pam’s a psychotic bitch.”

“Wasn’t that why you broke up with her?” Ben joked.

“No, I mean, she’s really a psychotic bitch. She went to my building last night and attacked the security guards when they wouldn’t let her up to my apartment. It’s all over the fucking news.”

“No fucking way,” was Ben’s stunned reply.

Max handed him the photograph he still held in his hand. “Way. She’s claiming I ordered them to do it or something. She’s fucking nuts.”

“Christ … What’s Isabel going to say?”

“She’s already been here. Jonah, too. It’s such a goddamned mess.”

Sensing his friend’s distress, Ben asked, “You need to stay here for a while?” even though he already knew the answer.

“Can I?”

“Yeah, I think we can make do.”

“Thanks, man,” Max said. A moment of silence passed before he thought of something else. “Hey, did you get to the bank?”

“Yeah. Dude, you would not believe how fucking difficult it is to open one little business account.”

“Today,” Max said wearily, “I’m surprised at nothing.”

“I can understand that. Anyway, it’s all done. Twenty grand into the account. Only you and her have access.”

“Thank you,” Max said, taking the paperwork from the bank that Ben had handed to him. As he looked it over, he wondered how it would even be possible for him to get to Joe’s to give her the information. Would she even open the door for him? Would she even want the money now?

“Dude,” Ben laughed as he stood up to go to the kitchen, “stop thinking so hard. You’re making me tired just by looking at you.”

“Try being on this side of things,” groaned Max.

~*~*~*
TBC
Last edited by LairaBehr4 on Sun Nov 11, 2007 9:29 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Thought I wouldn't be back in time for Christmas? Ha!

My thanks to the following:
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I am continually amazed by the feedback which this story gets. Every time I post a new chapter, some new person has left feedback, and I know it's because of the great word of mouth you've all given me. It's awesome and humbling at the same time. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I would have finished this earlier, but I had some health problems and then some internet troubles ... but they seem to have been resolved for the most part, and I hope it was worth the wait for all of you.

MWAH!!





Eats, Shoots, & Leaves

Or

Looking for a Prince in a World Full of Frogs


Chapter Twenty-four – You’re Gonna Miss Me When I’m Gone


Liz groggily succumbed to the muffled knocking that was pulling her out of sleep and into awake. She grumbled loudly as she turned over in bed to look at the bright green numbers of her alarm clock, currently glowing 3:26 a.m.

Again the knocking came from the outside door downstairs. Her brain put two and two together, and she sat up straight in bed with alarm. Someone was trying to get into the building at 3:30 in the morning! Through the back door, off of the main street. In South Street! She was no longer in her cushy apartment off of the Ben Franklin Parkway, with public lighting and a security guard at the desk. She didn’t even have Serena anymore. Paul the Cat was awake, at the foot of the bed, giving her a look of utter inconsequentiality; Liz knew immediately that he would be no help to her. For all intents and purposes, she was all alone, in a two-hundred-year-old building, and someone was trying to get in.

Taking a deep breath, she got out of bed. Paul stood up and immediately sprang into the closet, an action which did not reassure Liz in the slightest. She tiptoed as quietly as she could over to one of the windows that overlooked the street. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, she pulled back the blinds and tried to look down at the stoop below. When she recognized the person standing below leaning on the door with one elbow and pounding on it with his other fist, she rolled her eyes. Without hesitating she pulled up the shades and the glass to lean outside of it. “Well, that explains the cat,” she said, just loud enough for him to hear.

“What?” he asked, baffled at the statement.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed, thoroughly annoyed and pissed off.

“Look, I know you don’t want to see me right now, but I can’t,” Max pressed his lips together in rage, “I can’t spend another goddamned second at Ben’s place. I’ll never get any sleep again.”

“Don’t you have someplace else you can go to?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I did,” he groaned.

Liz sighed as she pulled the glass back down. She took her fleece robe out of the closet where it hung on a hook and tied it around her waist. As she walked down the stairs, she considered exactly how angry she should be with him. Yeah, it was 3:30 on a Tuesday morning, and she had to be up in three hours for work. And it’s true that she wasn’t exactly happy with him after the weekend. But she also knew that news about how he’d allegedly hit Pam Troy was plastered over every news website on the web, even the more reputable ones. Her soon-to-be-ex-coworkers had spent the whole afternoon gossiping about it. They’d gathered at a co-worker’s cubicle, huddling around a computer to look at the top-page spread of some online tabloid earlier this afternoon.

The picture was of Pam Troy, wearing a black pinstripe jacket and pants with no shirt underneath and a fedora, hand cradling her face just enough to let the cameras see that she was sporting a black eye. The headline read that Max had hit her, though Liz’s perusal of more legitimate news sites had stated that no one besides Ms. Troy confirmed Max’s presence at the building, and that the security guard and doormen stated that she’d sustained the black eye attacking them when they wouldn’t allow her up to his apartment. One of them even had scratches on his face and hands.

She sighed as she pulled the glass back down and put on a robe and some flip-flops to head downstairs. When she got to the door, she opened it just wide enough so she could stick her head outside while leaning on the door frame. “No place else, huh?”

Max pursed his lips. “I’m a sad, lonely orphan.”

Liz had to fight to keep from smiling at how cute he looked when he begged. She shook her head and tried to look annoyed. “Come on in.”

It was on the tip of Max’s tongue to tell her not to do him any favors, but he really couldn’t afford to alienate anyone right now. “Thanks,” he said, sounding as sincere as he could, even though it was evident that she took no joy in seeing him there. He definitely wasn’t used to that kind of reaction.

To be honest, he was afraid that Liz’s behavior would be indicative of things to come for him. He had no idea how on earth Jonah and Isabel would spin this sack of bull that Pam was selling, and he could be wrong, but he suspected that being a woman abuser wouldn’t be the best thing for his career, and consequently for the band’s. What he really needed right now was to just be some place where he could be assured that it would all be all right. Normally he’d come to Joe, but since Joe was gone, this place was the next best thing.

“You coming?” Liz asked, a tone of snarkiness hiding behind her voice. He realized he hadn’t moved from the doorway. Jarred back into reality, he reached behind him to lock the deadbolt in the door and followed Liz into the hallway and up the stairs.

Besides being irritated at her literal rude awakening, Liz felt confused about how she was supposed to act with him right now. After all the things she’d said about him and Pam the last time he was there – which had only been two days ago – she was insecure and unsure about how to proceed.

If there was one thing Liz hated, it was being unsure about anything. It irritated her. And given her pre-existing irritation, she wasn’t exactly in the right frame of mind to be a very hospitable host.

“You can sleep on the couch,” she said as she walked straight to a chest in one corner of the living room. She lifted the lid and pulled out a pillow, pillowcase and a couple of spare blankets. “Isabel’s not around?”

“Working,” was Max’s response.

“This late?”

“She’s got a lot to do.”

Clearly he was in as good a mood as she was, Liz thought as she closed the chest again. When she turned around, she saw that Max was already happily seated on her bright red sofa, arms outstretched along the back as he looked around, undoubtedly noting the changes from Joe’s interior décor and her progress in unpacking, which even she had to admit was considerable. Liz wasn’t sure what annoyed her more; the fact that he seemed so at home there, or the fact that she didn’t entirely dislike it.

She walked to the far end of the couch from where he was sitting and put the bedding down. “There’s another blanket in there if you get cold.”

“Thanks.”

Liz nodded, unsure about how to respond to his thanks. He seemed oddly serious and sincere, but closed off and annoyed at the same time. Her nice, warm bed had never seemed more inviting and yet further away at the same time. “I’m going to try to get back to sleep. Night.”

“Night,” Max said back. Trying to make as little movement as possible, he turned his head and followed her body as she walked down the hallway and disappeared into the master bedroom without giving him a second glance.

Damn, that woman was annoying. Joking one minute, pissed off the next, and most of all, closed off to anything. He had to admit that he liked the fact that she was honest about what she thought and didn’t take any bullshit, but at the same time, it was so hard to get her to open up to any new ideas. She had him neatly wrapped up into this nice little package that she could stick a label on and file away, without even bothering to see what else there could be.

Somewhere in his mind, the thoughts sounded awfully familiar.

~*~*~

At 4:43, Liz rolled over and closed her eyes again, desperate to try to get some sleep again. A voice in her head told her that she probably shouldn’t bother since she would have to be up in a little less than two hours anyway, but even two hours was better than nothing. It probably wouldn’t bear too well for her to fall asleep at work when she only had a handful of working days left.

But she couldn’t sleep. She felt restless and anxious. And it didn’t help that she could hear Max tossing and turning on the sofa, either.

With a frustrated grunt, Liz flipped her warm comforter away and headed into the bathroom. It was significantly smaller than the one in the apartment she’d shared with Serena, but it was functional and charming. Exposed brick ran along one side, where a wooden cabinet, bearing the homey signs of hand-made construction, hung from the wall. A mirror above the sink hid another, smaller, generic cabinet. A free-standing tub, fed by exposed pipes, sat neatly in the back next to a radiator. It reminded Liz of a story she’d read as a child where a little girl used to play hide-and-seek with her older brothers. Her favorite hiding spot was a small closet with exposed bricks walls. The girl could hear her brothers moving around the house when she hid. As an only child, Liz had always felt a little lonely. She used to wonder what a house filled with the sounds of other children would sound like. Living with Serena in college had given her a hint of what that might have been like, but now she was living alone again. It had only been two days, and Liz already missed the sounds of someone else in the next room.

Liz turned on the water in the sink and gave it a few seconds to warm up before splashing some of it on her face and twisting the water off again. She met her own eyes in the mirror as she patted the water away with a towel. A part of her felt like she wanted to kick Max out again, to draw the lines of her own space clearly and succinctly. She wasn’t worried; she’d taken care of herself for a long time, and she wasn’t afraid of living alone. But as she heard the padded footsteps of Max walking from the couch to the kitchen, she had to admit that she was glad to have somebody there with her. Even if they’d barely spoken to each other.

And at least she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t get to sleep.

~*~*~

It had been a choice of lesser evils for Max: He could stay at Ben’s, and try to ignore the sounds coming from the bedroom that left little to this imagination; he could go to Isabel’s and hope that she’d calmed down enough to let him get some sleep, but knowing Isabel, that didn’t seem very likely; or he could try to find a hotel and hope that nobody would tip off the press.

So, he opted for Door Number Four: Go to Joe’s.

Only thing was, Joe wasn’t there anymore. Liz was there. And while she was infinitely less welcoming, she was also infinitely more distracting. And Max definitely needed a distraction.

And the problem with that was, that distraction was now standing in the bathroom forty feet away.

Max hadn’t expected to sleep with Liz when he’d shown up tonight. He considered getting past the front door to be an accomplishment worthy of front page news (not literally, of course, since there was more than enough of that going on already.)

On the one hand, Liz’s brusque attitude towards him was refreshing and endearing, and just what he needed on a time like this, when people were making a much bigger deal over him than he would have wanted. On the other hand, though, it was a bit annoying. He wasn’t used to exerting himself for people he barely knew. He’d been able to charm most people without spending too much effort on it. He’d exert himself for Joe, for Isabel, for Ben and the band, but that was about it. He didn’t even feel the need to exert himself for his parents, mainly because he always felt like everything he did for them took him just a step further away from the person he was and wanted to be, and that no matter what he did for them, it was never going to be enough anyway, so he might as well make himself happy and please at least one person in the bargain.

Liz was turning into a cross between these three distinct groups. Like most people, she seemed to have a reaction to his general charm; only that reaction was very different than the usual one. He was willing to try to exert for her because something told him it’d be worth it. But, like his parents, it didn’t seem like it would make much of a difference.

Max got up and went into the kitchen, pouring water from the faucet into his cupped hands for him to drink. Since when had women gotten so complicated?

~*~*~*~

“So we never really talked about what’s going to happen,” Serena said off-handedly as she zipped up her knee-high boots.

“What’s going to happen when?” Ben asked from the bathroom doorway through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“When you leave for your tour.”

“Is something supposed to happen?” Ben teased flippantly.

“Well, to start, what do I do, pay your rent for you?” Serena stood up, fully dressed in a brown skirt suit with gold pinstripes and a navy shirt that set her long auburn hair off to perfection.

Ben spit out his toothpaste and turned back around to look at her. “Good God, you look sexy in that outfit.”

“Don’t try any of your smooth-talking tricks with me.”

“Tricks? I don’t know of any tricks.”

“Good, because if you think I’m going to sit here and pay your rent and your bills for you, then you’ve got—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ben went over to her and motioned for her to sit down on the bed again. “Who said anything about paying the rent?”

Serena looked at him as though he was wearing a dunce cap on his head. “Well, the rent does have to get paid, you know.”

“I know, but I just figured, since you’re living here and all, …” Ben smiled as Serena reached for a pillow. “I just thought you’d,” he held his arm up to shield his head from the mighty thwack, “want to help out around here and all.” Serena’s arm brought her weapon around again. “I mean, I’ve paid rent in this building for four years now,” they were both laughing now, even as Serena prepared for a much weaker blow. “It’d be nice to have some help, you know what I mean?”

“You know, I’d think you’d be a little more grateful,” Serena told him.

“To have you messing up the bed that I worked so hard to make beautiful and perfect while you were in the shower?”

“Not where I was going.”

“Sorry. Do carry on.”

“Thank you. Where was I?”

“I’m supposed to be grateful for something.”

“Yes, that’s right. I’m sitting here, delving into my five minutes of the day where I’m willing to be serious outside of work, and I’m giving those five minutes to you. And what do I get in return? Sarcasm and the honor of being a sugar mama to the great Ben Campbell.”

Ben had tried to look contrite while she talked, but now his lips curled into a devious grin. “Say ‘sugar mama’ again.”

Otvali,” Serena muttered as she began to stand up and walk away.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ben slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her back down. “Baby, you know I was just teasing you,” he murmured, placing soft kisses behind her ear. “Now listen, the rent is all taken care of, it gets taken out of my account every month. You can just let me know when the other bills show up and I’ll pay them from the road.”

“Well, that’s not fair,” Serena said. “You won’t even be here. I’m the one who’ll be living here.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t like the idea of being a ‘kept woman,’” Ben joked.

“I’m too young for that,” she flippantly replied. “I was hoping to wait until I was at least 40 before resigning myself to that title.”

Ben offhandedly said, “You’ll live,” before kissing her fully.

Serena let herself get lost in the kiss for a moment before she pulled away. “No, seriously, I have to help out somehow.”

“You can pay the cable and electric bills.”

“Done. Shake on it?”

“I’d rather do something else,” Ben said, and then he kissed her again.

~*~*~

“It’s been a rough couple of days for you, yes?”

Isabel looked up from her coffee. “What are we doing here again?”

“I have a class in twenty minutes around the corner, and you’re helping me caff up for it,” Alex smiled. “Truth be told, you look like you could use a little caffeine yourself.”

“Yeah, well,” Isabel yawned, “I was up all night with Max’s publicist trying to figure out how to handle this thing.”

“And what did you come up with?”

“Well, besides a complete and utter denial, which just makes it sound like we’re trying to hide something, we’re providing the building staff that were there to do some interviews for a couple of the sites and shows and such. They’re going to tell them that Max wasn’t even in the building at the time.”

“Is that true?”

Isabel glared at him. “Are you insinuating that my brother hits women?”

“It was just a question.”

“Of course it’s true! I know he’s not perfect, but he’s not a violent man. I can’t believe you.”

“It was just a question,” Alex repeated patiently. “It wasn’t an attack or anything. I was just asking.

She groaned. “I’m sorry. It’s just been an extremely long twenty-four hours.”

“I can understand that,” he smiled. They drank their coffee in silence for a few moments before Alex spoke again. “You know, you working so hard and all, some might say you deserved a break.”

“I’m taking a break now,” she said.

“Well, maybe a bigger break, then.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Have dinner with me,” he said casually.

Isabel looked at him carefully. “Dinner, eh?”

“Yeah, you know. We sit, we eat, we drink. We pretend to have a good time.”

“Remarkably similar to what we’re doing right now.”

“Exact- hey!” Isabel laughed as Alex realized what she’d just said.

“Come on, what do you say?”

Isabel’s face fell. “I can’t,” she said sadly. “I’m getting ready to go back on the road with the band until February.”

“When does that happen?”

“End of this week.”

Alex frowned, “That’s too bad.” His watch began to beep. He pushed a quick button, stopping the beeping, and looked up at Isabel with regret in his eyes. “You have to go, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yeah, I gotta get to class.”

“What are you going to school for again?”

“Hotel management at the Art Institute,” he said while gathering his things and putting on his coat.

“What made you want to go into that?” she asked.

“Process of elimination.” Alex walked over to Isabel’s chair and bent his knees until he was at eye-level with her. He kissed her quickly on the cheek. “I’ll be here when you get back from your tour.”

Isabel watched him leave the café and continued to gaze at him through the windows as he turned the corner and began walking down Chesnut Street.

~*~*~

“Did you see people.com?”

Liz rolled her eyes as her co-workers gossiped behind cubicle walls.

“It’s the security desk people from the apartment. He wasn’t even in the building!” someone else whispered.

“I knew he didn’t do it,” a third woman, whom Liz recognized as Gloria, chimed in.

“What do you think’s gonna happen with them?”

“I say they’re through,” the first woman, Tammy, said. “No way would he stay with her after this stunt.”

Donna, the second woman, chuckled. “Maybe we should go and ‘conveniently slip and fall’ outside his building. After all, we all know where he lives now.”

For a moment, Liz froze with panic.

“You know?” Gloria asked.

“It’s in the papers, Gloria,” Tammy said impatiently. “His address. It’s right there.”

“Oh, yeah.” Gloria wasn’t the brightest light on the Christmas tree.

Liz relaxed her shoulders; for a moment she’d been petrified that the media had followed Max to the store, and had printed her address.

“We should, you know,” Donna said secretly. “Provide the man with some comfort in this very difficult time.”

Liz ignored the rest of their conversation and the slight sense of discomfort she felt at their words.

~*~*~

Tuesdays always seem the longest day of the week. No matter what happens, the time just stretches on into infinity. Minutes last for hours; hours last for days; the day lasts an eternity. By the time you head home, you could swear it was Friday already.

It’s simply the nature of Tuesdays to last forever. They last even longer when you’re hosting the most talked about man in the city in your apartment.

Liz walked in through the back door of her apartment, silently hoping with her entire being that Max, if he was still there, would at least be tolerable today. It was true that public opinion was swinging back in his favor, but Liz just wasn’t sure that would be enough to ensure Max’s good mood. The man seemed extremely moody, and Liz just didn’t know enough about him to determine what the day’s events would do to Max. She honestly was a bit sick of dealing with his emotional roller coasters; after all, he was her guest, not her baby or pet. And she didn’t even like him, anyway.

As she headed towards the stairs, Liz noticed that the air was thick with the smell of food. She eagerly climbed the stairs and opened the door to her apartment. Through the doorway that led into the kitchen, she saw Max standing next to the stove. The sounds of food cooking in a pan were unmistakable.

She didn’t even try to pick her jaw off the floor. When the door slammed behind her, she didn’t even notice.

“Hi!” said Max, looking over at her after hearing the door slam.

“Hi,” Liz said, though it came out sounding more like a question than a greeting. “What are you doing?”

“Cooking. You like chicken?”

“You cook?”

Max laughed. “Believe it or not.”

“Not,” Liz said as she hung up her coat, scarf, and hat in the closet.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“Can’t argue with the truth.” Liz came into the doorway and leaned against the frame, watching Max move with ease around the kitchen. “How did you even find this stuff? I thought all I had in my fridge was milk and an apple.”

Max gave his trademark smirk. “It’s nice having a personal assistant. I asked Maria to go.”

“Remind me to thank Maria,” Liz said. “So what are you making here?”

“Chicken marsala with fried mushrooms and onions,” he said, pointing to one pan where two pieces of chicken were cooking, “cooked spinach and carrots, and I’m going to melt some parmesan cheese on that in a minute, and there are some dinner rolls keeping warm in the oven. They’re not mine, but we’re having them anyway.”

“There better be homemade butter.” Max grinned at her as he grabbed an open bottle of beer from the counter and took a swig. “You’re drinking my beer!” Liz exclaimed angrily.

Max held the bottle away, looked at it, then looked back at her. “Uh, yeah. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“You didn’t think I’d mind?” She repeated.

“Well, yeah. After all, it was one of only four items in your fridge. Now you’ve got enough groceries to last a week, and I’ve gone and cooked dinner. Seemed like a fair exchange to me,” Max told her. He was more than just a tad offended. Was she honestly going to begrudge him one beer?

As she was about to fly off the handle, Liz felt the small tug of something that sounded amazingly like a conscience. The man had a point; after all, he’d filled her fridge, cooked her dinner, and hadn’t said anything offensive in the entire 15 hours that he’d been there. Perhaps one single beer wasn’t so bad. “Yeah, but … it was the last one,” she finished weakly.

Max chuckled at the metaphorical diffused bomb. “We’re in South Street. Truly we’ll never be able to find beer again.”

Liz smiled. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one who has to find a distributer and carry a case of it back here.”

“You can buy them from the bars, you know,” he said.

“It’s such a rip-off, to pay for six individual bottles of beer, though.”

“I can replace the beer if you want.”

“No, it’s fine, really,” Liz told him. She didn’t want to break the tentative peace they’d struck. “I’m gonna go change out of my work clothes.” She smiled, then walked to the bedroom and changed into a maroon sweater and jeans.

When she came back out, Max had set out a couple of plates and some silverware. The rolls were sitting on a tray on top of the stove. “You’re right on time,” he said to her. “Get it while it’s hot.”

“I never realized how corny you can be,” Liz teased.

“Me? I am not corny. I abstain from the corn.”

Liz rolled her eyes while she served herself from the stove. “So what did a girl do to deserve this, anyway?” she asked.

Max cocked his head to the side and pretended to think about it. “I don’t know, actually.”

Liz shook her head. “Forget I asked.”

“Would you believe me if I said I was bored?” Max said as Liz took her plate and silverware to the table in the living room, which stood between the couch that Max had slept on last night and the open doorway into the kitchen.

“No.”

“Worth a shot.” Liz looked at him quizzically, and finally he said, “I just wanted to say thanks for letting me stay. Since you were working all day, I thought this might be better than flowers.”

Liz was reminded immediately of the ornate bouquets he’d sent her, and later the more expensive gifts that had made her the subject of office gossip for weeks. “Good thinking,” she said.

They ate in silence for a while, until Liz heard a gentle plop across from her. Paul had jumped up onto one of the chairs, then into the table, and was eyeing the chicken on her plate with interest.

“Get down, you damn flea-bitten rag,” Max said, waving his arm at the animal.

“Oy, leave the cat alone,” Liz said. “He does not have fleas.”

“Well, he used to,” Max grumbled.

“He’s not hurting anybody. He can sit on the table if he likes.”

“You’ll be singing a different tune when he takes that chicken right off your plate,” Max warned.

“Believe it or not, I think I can manage the cat.” Liz cut another piece of chicken into her fork. “I’m surprised, with the two of you locked in here together the whole day, that the place is still standing.”

“We struck a temporary truce.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. I locked him in your room, he stayed there. Everybody’s happy.”

“No wonder he’s restless,” Liz said as Paul tore off a piece of chicken and ran off with it.

~*~*~

“Well, I guess that’s it,” Max said after he’d finished drying the dishes. Since he’d cooked, he’d insisted it was only fair for her to wash the dishes. She agreed, on the condition that he dry. “I guess I’m off.”

“You are, huh?” Liz asked. “I noticed the blankets were all folded on the couch.”

Max scratched his ear. “I mentioned I was bored, right?” They laughed. “Well, Isabel scoped out my house out in Edgemont. The vultures have abandoned their posts and gone to stalk Pam instead, and good riddance.”

“So the coast is clear for you to go home.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll even get a chance to prep for the tour.”

“When do you guys leave again?”

“We kick off in Atlantic City on Friday, and then we’re going until February.”

“Wow … that’s a long time.”

“Yeah … I guess.” Max looked around, scratching his ear again. “So, um, if you need anything for the store or anything, you know you can go to Maria, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay. So … thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Liz said.

With a small wave, Max walked out the door. For the second time in less than five days, she listened to the sound of his footsteps going down the stairs and leaving the building. The lingering feelings, though, were much different this time around.


~*~*~
TBC
Last edited by LairaBehr4 on Sun Jan 27, 2008 12:58 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: Eats, Shoots & Leaves (ML, Mat.) Ch10 p10. AN p.17 25Feb08

Post by LairaBehr4 »

Hi guys,

I'm so sorry! I honestly have been working on this part for weeks and weeks, and I haven't heard back from my Beta about this part. By my count, I'm one day late on the Scribbling rivalry (remember, I was out of the country!) so I'm only slightly late, right? Not so bad. Not really ...

So now, for the thanks:

Ellie
Michelle In Yonkers
Alien_Friend
TheTVGeneral
- Steph, where are you? I miss you.
Cassie
Believer_Evans
Omwf
Begonia9508
Emz80m
RiceKrispy
Pinkslipper
Natalie36
Arianneleigh
Raemac
Synera
Cocogurl
Clueless
Flyawayraven
Max and Liz Believer
Rowedog
Ladylou
Aurorabee
Behrluv32
Lorastar
Cereth
Bettylove8
Raychelxlucious
Katydid
DreamerMaxBehrian
- I love you darling!
Nicoletta
Pookie76
Pandas2001
Roswell3035
Elci
ForeignLoveMonkey
Drogyn
LizMichael 4 Ever
Moon_Sprite
Lurkers


Thank you, everyone!

Man, I wish my beta would come back! :(



Eats, Shoots & Leaves;

Or,

Looking for a Prince in a World Full of Frogs


Chapter Twenty-five - The Scratch Marks To Prove It


Liz sat at the table that doubled as the cash register and counter. One hand was on the table in front of her, the other one propped up her cheek. Her legs were folded under the table, with one swinging back and forth in the air.

Her posture alone said it all. Liz Parker was bored.

With a capital B and that rhymes with P, her mind sang at her in Robert Preston’s voice.

Not only was she bored, she was more than a little bit disappointed. After offering her freelancing services at every paper in town from the Philadelphia Inquirer to the Main Line Times, she’d been told kindly, but firmly, that her regular services would likely not be required. Perhaps they might call on her once in a while, when some of their staff writers were on vacation, but it was not to be counted on.

So instead, Liz turned to the only source of income she had: The store. But it didn’t take long for her to realize that, not only did she not know a damn thing about running a store, but the store was hardly making ends meet, let alone earning a profit. Today was Tuesday, the fourth day since Liz had stopped working at the publishing company. There hadn’t been a customer in the store since Sunday. It was two days before Thanksgiving! Weren’t people supposed to be in a shopping frenzy before the holidays?

This was not good.

And not only that, but Max, that flake, hadn’t helped her out by giving her any idea of how she should price the items in the store. How the hell did she know what a couch should cost? Especially one that was practically caked in dust and cat hair.

The grandfather clock chimed two chimes, one right after another. Two o’clock. She’d been sitting like this since ten in the morning, and the store was scheduled to stay open until seven.

The day was less than half way over. Liz wanted to tear her hair out with frustration.

Part of what made the experience of just sitting there for hours on end was that, charming though she found the store, it was hardly customer-friendly. Hadn’t she herself nearly given herself a concussion tripping over all the junk littering the floor? Even if a customer came in with a specific object in mind, they’d never find it in this mess.

Without even bothering to lock up the cash box, Liz stood from the table and purposely made her way towards the kitchen in the back. After looking around for a few moments, she found what she was looking for; a shallow plastic bin with a handle, containing bottles of Old English, Windex, All-Purpose 409, and some rags. All of these items looked as if they hadn’t been used since the dawn of the twenty-first century, but they’d have to do.

First, she washed the rags in the sink as best as she could, then wrung all but one out to dry. That one she took, along with the cleaning bottles and a roll of paper towels, back to the front.

The job was daunting, to say the least, but at least she worked uninterrupted. The afternoon sun moved shadows across the room until shining oranges and reds marked sunset. Liz paused to turn the internal lights on and pull down the shades, then went straight back to work. At seven o’clock, she locked the door and flipped the sign from “Open” to “Closed”.

At eight o’clock, someone knocked on the door. Liz ignored it. A minute later, her phone began to ring in the pocket of her jeans.

“’Lo.”

“Open up,” Serena said. Three more knocks came.

“Is that you?” Liz asked.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Liz hung up and went to unlock the door.

“Whoa! Liz!” Serena held her nose with one hand and waved the air in front of her with the other.

“What?” she asked.

“The fumes are about to knock me back ten feet, Liz!”

Liz looked around, puzzled. “They are?”

“Okay, that’s it. You’re coming with me.” Serena grabbed her hand and dragged her up the stairs.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you upstairs. You’re going to change and pack enough clothes for a few days. Including an outfit for a nice dinner.”

“Nice dinner? Serena, I’m working here!”

“Not anymore you’re not.”

By now Serena had gotten Liz upstairs and was shooing her into the bedroom. “Come on, Ser. I’m trying to clean up the store down there.”

“Liz, if you stay in that room a minute longer, you’re going to start losing brain cells. Now go pack! Do you need me to get your bag down from the shelf in the closet, Shorty?”

Liz rolled her eyes. “I’m not that short …”

“Sure you’re not, honey. Rock that Napoleon complex!”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Go pack!”

Liz smiled and closed the door to the bedroom. She made sure that Serena wasn’t about to walk in the door, then took out the stool that she kept in the closet. After all, the building was old, and had been built in a classic style with tall ceilings, and Liz couldn’t reach. But she’d be damned if she was going to admit that to Serena.

It only took her a few minutes to pack some pajamas and clean clothes for the next day. She returned the stool to its hiding place and walked out with her overnight bag over her shoulder.

“See? That wasn’t so hard,” Serena said.

Liz put some dried cat food out in Paul’s dish. “Why am I packing for a few days? I’ve got to be back here in the morning anyway.”

“Yeah, but you don’t want to stay here alone. It’s depressing.”

“I’m not depressed.”

“That’s exactly what I would expect somebody who is depressed to say!”

“You’re crazy,” Liz said. “Let’s get out of here before you decide you don’t like my kitchen towels.”

“The ones with the paisley on them? Liz, honey, I’ve always hated those.”

~*~*~

“So what was the reason you came over to see me, anyway?” Liz asked.

Serena flung her arm around Liz’s shoulders. “Can’t a girl just miss her roommate?”

“What, not enough channels in the premium deluxe super cable package over at Ben’s for ya?”

“Liz, I swear, I’ve never been more bored in my life.”

“So you think of boredom and you think of me. That’s so sweet of you. I don’t know how I keep from just falling all over myself with happiness.”

“You love it.”

“I’m serious, though,” Liz said. “Why’d you come?”

“I was serious, too. The apartment is so …” Serena struggled for the right adjective.

“Big? Spacious? Glamorous? Monstrously large?”

“Spooky.”

“Spooky?”

“Like the House on Haunted Hill spooky.”

“Halloween was last month, Ser.”

“I don’t care, it’s still spooky. And, you know, the cable thing.”

Liz shook her head. “You are unbelievable.”

~*~*~

Maria looked at the clock. It was past eleven; kinda late, and not too early. She leaned over and picked up her ringing cell phone from the table on the other side of the couch. She stole a glance and recognized the 215 area code as the number of the call box downstairs.

“’Lo.”

“Let me up,” she recognized Michael’s voice.

“Gimme one good reason why I should.”

“You really want your neighbors to hear?”

Maria pushed the button to open the door. A few moments later when he knocked on the door, she opened it through the door chain.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” he asked.

“Why should I let you in?” She crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows.

“Because … I’m … asking you to?”

“Try again.”

“Hmm,” Michael pretended to think, then pulled a bottle of tequila from behind his back. “Because I have some of the best Mexican shit you’ll ever drink, and I really don’t think I should be forced to drink it all alone. Bad luck.”

“Bad luck,” Maria repeated.

“Yup. A bartender knows.”

Maria looked at the bottle, then back up to him. “You better be right about the quality of this tequila,” she said. She closed the door and unlatched the chain.

“Thanks,” he said. “Got anything we can mix it with, or you wanna just do some shots?”

“Let’s start with the shots and work our way down.”

“Good plan.”

“You’re cutting up the lemons,” she ordered as she followed him into the kitchen.

“I like it when you’re bossy.”

“Stick around,” Maria smiled.

~*~*~

Max had been sitting with his feet up on top of the seat in front of him strumming on his guitar for the last forty minutes.

“What’s that?” Kyle asked from the seat across the bus aisle.

“What’s what?”

“What you’re playing.”

“Nothing.”

“Okay.”

“Why? Does it have to be something?” Max asked defensively.

“Dude, chill. It was just a question.”

“Well, lay off the questions, then,” he snipped.

Kyle huffed. “Well somebody’s got his boxers in a twist.”

“Fuck you, Valenti.”

“Boys,” Tess raised her head over the back of the seat in front of Kyle’s to look at them both, “don’t make me get off this seat.”

“Yeah, we get that you guys are both frustrated and all, but try to keep it to yourselves, will ya? Some of us are sleeping,” said Ben, who sat in the seat in front of Max.

“Screw all of you,” Max mumbled. He stood up and took his guitar closer to the front of the bus.

“What’s up his ass?” Kyle asked. “Usually he doesn’t get like this until the second month.”

“Leave him alone, Kyle, no one else in the band gets to bring their girlfriends along on tour,” Ben told him.

“Thank God, too. It’s bad enough when Pam shows up unannounced.”

Ben and Tess looked at each other and rolled their eyes. Ben knew, and he knew Tess suspected, that Max’s bad attitude had nothing to do with Pam.

~*~*~

Alex smiled when he recognized the number on his caller ID. “Home Depot,” he said.

“Oh, um,” the voice on the other end stuttered, “I’m sorry; I think I have the wrong number.”

Alex laughed. “Hi, Isabel.”

“Alex?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I was just messing with you.”

“That was kind of messed up,” she said, affronted.

“I’m sorry.”

“I mean, I’m calling you up for a perfectly normal conversation, and you immediately start out making me think that you’re the Home Depot?”

“I didn’t mean anything by it, Isabel. I told you right away that it was me.”

“I don’t care that you told me.”

“Aw, come on. There’s no harm, no foul.”

“Says you. There goes my good mood.”

“This is you in a good mood?”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“No, Isabel, wait…” but the line was already dead.

~*~*~

“Hey,” Isabel flipped her phone shut as Max sat down across from her. He grunted in response.

As Isabel frowned and wondered what was wrong with Max, her cell phone started ringing. She smiled as she recognized the number.

“Thank you for calling Lowe’s. How may I direct your call?”

“Does that mean you forgive me?”

“I can’t talk right now.”

“You forgive me.”

“Good-bye.”

“Who was that?” Max asked after she hung up.

“No one important. What’s going on with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the bad mood. We’ve only been on the road for three days. Are you sick of it already?” she asked in her very best sister tone.

“No.”

“Then what is it? Worried about Joe?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then try to lay off the rest of the group, will you? They’re not just your band mates, they’re your friends. And they don’t need their heads snapped off every minute.”

“What did we do last Thanksgiving?”

“Huh?” Isabel was taken off-guard. “Where did that come from?”

“I was just trying to think about what we did for Thanksgiving last year. I couldn’t remember.”

“Ben’s parents were in town and they all came over for dinner at Mom’s and Dad’s.”

“No, that was Christmas.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Yes, it was,” Max insisted. “Don’t you remember? Mrs. Campbell was wearing those earrings with the little Christmas bells on them.”

“Oh, yeah,” laughed Isabel. “Mom practically fawned all over them. She wanted to get a pair for herself.”

“And Jim made a joke about them joining a bell chorus, and every time it’s their turn they just tug on their ears.”

“You’re right. My God, how much booze did we have that night?” They both laughed. Isabel said, “Wait, if that was Christmas, then what was Thanksgiving?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Wait, was … was it last year that we went out to dinner for Thanksgiving?”

Max gasped. “Yeah, that was it. Out in Valley Forge. Dad thought that if we were in public he could try to strong-arm me and I wouldn’t say anything.”

“Well, the man’s delusional. What are you going to do?”

“Thanks. I just could not remember that.”

“Why were you thinking about it?”

“I don’t know,” Max sighed. “Just feels like we’ve been on the road a lot this year. It’s bugging me.”

“Max, you know we have that big concert in Chicago on Thanksgiving. We can’t …”

“I know.”

“Why don’t you go try to get some sleep? We won’t be in Columbus for a few hours yet.”

“I don’t feel sleepy. I feel restless.”

“Take some Advil PM or something. You need to go to sleep.” Max looked up at her. “Before the rest of the band decides to kick you out onto the road or something.”

“Yeah.” Max stood up and headed towards the back of the bus. “Good night.”

“Night,” Isabel said. She flipped open her cell phone once more and looked at the last incoming call. She thought about calling Alex again, but decided against it. Make the man sweat a little.

~*~*~

The first half of the bus was a standard bus – three-foot cushioned benches across from each other. The back half of the bus had a bathroom and three bunk beds set up, one on the same side as the bathroom, two on the other side. Each person – Max, Ben, Kyle, Tess, Isabel, and David the bus driver – had their own bed for their personal space, with an empty space beneath the bunks for suitcases. Max climbed up onto his bunk, above Isabel’s, and closed his eyes to try to sleep.

But sleep didn’t come. He could hear the others chatting, hanging out, laughing. He didn’t want to join them for once, but he felt like a loser sitting there by himself.

Suddenly touring seemed a lot less fun than it used to.

~*~*~

In the middle of ‘Amelie’, Serena had to step into the other room to pick up her cell phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, gorgeous.”

“Who is this?”

“It’s Ben.”

“Ben who?”

“Ben Campbell. The guy whose apartment you’re staying in.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I know any Ben Campbell.”

“Okay. Clear out, then.”

“What?”

“If you don’t know me then I don’t think you should be staying in my apartment. Especially when I’m not there and still paying all the bills.”

“Hey! I pay the cable bill!”

“So you do know me,” Ben smiled.

“You might be ringing a bell.”

“Ringing a bell.”

“Yeah, you know. Stirring up a vague memory.”

“’Oh, Ben! Right there! Yes! Don’t stop!’” Ben said in a high falsetto voice.

“That was you?”

“I’ve got the scratch marks to prove it.”

“Nice to hear from you.”

“You, too. What are you up to?”

“Dinner and a movie with my better half.”

“Say hi to Liz for me.”

“Will do. Where are you guys?”

“I think we’re still in Pennsylvania …”

“You think?”

“Maybe West Virginia. Or Ohio. I’m not sure.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, the glamorous world of sex, drugs, and rock & roll.”

“Accept no substitutes.”

“So what are you wearing?”

“Miss Maripova, are you coming on to me?”

“Me? I am all things innocent and pure. Just had a mild curiosity is all.”

“Good, because privacy on a bus is pretty much non-existent. Don’t think I bought the pure and innocent line, though.”

“You love me.”

“You love me.”

“That I do,” Serena said. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

When Serena came back into the room, Liz asked, “How’s Ben?”

“How did you know?

“You wouldn’t have left the room for almost anyone else.”

Serena smiled. “He’s doing good. He says hi.”

“Hello, Ben. How’s the tour?”

“Eh.”

“Oh yeah, going all over the world is totally ‘eh.’”

“It’s only just started! They’ve only done Allentown and Pittsburg so far. I think he’s still just getting used to it.”

“How about the rest of them?”

“Didn’t ask.”

“You’re a nice one.”

“Hey, I’m only sleeping with one of them.”

“You’re completely soulless.”

“You love me.”

“That I do.” They settled back into the movie and watched as Audrey Tautou traversed Paris’s subways with a garden gnome under her sweater.

Serena asked again, “So what’s with you and the cleaning?”

Liz thought about it for a moment, and then she shrugged. “Just felt like it.”

“So you’re not, like, lonely or anything.” Liz didn’t say anything. “Yeah. Me, either.”

“What’s Pete doing for Thanksgiving?” Liz asked.

“I think he was talking about going back up to Boston to see my folks, but I didn’t find out if he’s actually doing that or not. You?”

“I don’t know. Eating a turkey sandwich and watching the parade on TV.”

“We should to Thanksgiving!”

“What, just the two of us?”

“We could see what Alex is up to. I’ve got my uncle’s card, we could put the groceries on him. In the name of an American tradition, I think it’s a justifiable expense.”

“You really are lonely, aren’t you?”

“I can’t help it!” Serena whined. “I’ve never lived alone. And look at you! Anyone would think you didn’t care for me at all.” She turned her head back to the TV, tucked her chin down and pouted her lips.

“Oh, stop it,” Liz laughed. “We’ll do Thanksgiving.”

“Yay!” Serena shrieked as she jumped up and down. “I’ll get the turkey and the stuffing. You make the salad and potatoes and we can buy some rolls and a pie! Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”

“Easy, Ser, you’re going to have a stroke.”

“Pshaw. Have you seen this body? God wouldn’t be that cruel,” she called as she sauntered into the kitchen.

“You’re insane!” Liz called after her. A moment later she started hearing the banging of cupboard and cabinets – undoubtedly Serena was rummaging to see what Ben had in his kitchen – and she had to laugh. At that moment she felt like she was home. At that moment, at long last, she felt like everything was going to be all right.


TBC
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Re: Eats, Shoots & Leaves (ML/Adult) Ch.26 Pt.1 p.11 6Jun

Post by LairaBehr4 »

Eats, Shoots & Leaves:


Or,

Looking for a Prince in a World Full of Frogs


Chapter Twenty-Six – Over the River and Deck the Halls



“One more time!” Serena gleefully exclaimed.

“NO!” Liz and Alex shouted in unison.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“Serena, we’ve listened to that damn song all damn day. You play it again, I might just kill you,” Liz snapped between clenched teeth.

“Geesh, cranky much?”

“She’s got a point, Ser,” Alex said. “It’s not exactly a classic.”

“Yes it is! It’s a folk classic!” protested Serena.

“Even so, ‘Over the River and Through the Woods’ gets annoying after the fourteenth or fifteenth time you hear it. Pete, side with me here.”

Peter smiled. “Hey, don’t look at me. I’ve never heard it before.”

“Well do you have any other Thanksgiving songs we can listen to?” Liz and Alex looked at each other blankly. “Okay then. Here we go again.”

“Aaarrrggh!” Liz started banging her head on the table.

“Careful, you’ll give yourself a headache,” Alex said.

Liz peeked up at him. “You say that like I don’t already have one.”

“All right, time for turkey!” Serena appeared from the kitchen carrying a turkey breast on a fancy serving plate. She paused in pose for a moment, a grand smile on her face. Liz and Alex looked at each other, then back at her. “What, no applause?” she asked.

“I think the effect is better when you actually have a whole turkey, Ser,” Liz said.

“And not one that you picked up pre-cooked from the Whole Foods this morning,” Alex added.

“Along with the stuffing.”

“Oh, shut up, Miss Scalloped-Potatoes-In-A-Box,” Serena stuck her tongue out at Liz.

“At least I cooked the asparagus,” Liz said.

“I turned on the oven to heat the turkey.”

“I cut up the onions and tomatoes and cucumbers and mushrooms and shredded cheese for the salad.”

Serena retorted, “I opened the wine.”

“And then proceeded to drink half the bottle,” Alex snickered.

“While stuffing your face on Alex’s bruschetta and the rolls from Bertucci’s.”

“Well, what can I say? I’m a whore for Bertucci’s rolls.” Serena smiled glibly as she put the turkey down onto the table.

“Oh!” Alex slapped his hand over his eyes. “Mental image! I’ll never be able to look at the kitchen in that place the same way again.”

“You’re telling me,” said Peter. “You’re not related to her.”

“Shut up, all of you, and eat your Thanksgiving dinner,” said Serena.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat again,” Pete snickered.

“Oh, goody,” Serena smiled, “more for me.”

“Are you guys five?” asked Liz.

“Yes,” they said together.

Alex, his face red from trying to hold it in, laughed so hard his chair tilted back. “You people are better than reality TV any day.”

“Like that’s hard to do,” Liz shook her head. “Pass me that bottle of wine.”

“Careful, you’ll give yourself a headache.”

“I already have one from that damn song. Didn’t we do this already?”

“Hey, who wants to change the subject?” Alex said. “Liz, how’s the store going?”

“Dear God, don’t get me started,” mumbled Liz. “Fucker didn’t leave me any kind of price list or anything. All I’ve got are bills for heat and water and electricity and the internet. Thank God Joe owns the place. Already it’s barely worth keeping the store open. I don’t see how he’s possibly making a profit.”

“I think he probably does all right just by being Joe Evans,” Alex said.

“What?” Serena said.

“Wait a second,” Pete said, “did you say Joe Evans?”

“Yeah, he owns the shop that Liz is running these days,” Serena informed him.

Pete turned to Liz, his mouth open in gaping admiration. “Liz, you have to get me an introduction.”

“What?”

“Joe Evans.” Peter said the name slowly, as if he were explaining to a child. “Didn’t you know? He was in this band called Franklin & Temple. Kind of like CCR meets the Allman Brothers. In fact, I think he toured with the Allman brothers after the band broke up.”

“I’m sorry,” said Serena, “how do you know so much about American music from 40 years ago?”

“I’m a genius.”

“Well, we know that. You’re related to me.” Serena smiled proudly. “But that still doesn’t explain how you learned all this stuff.”

“iTunes.”

“Of course.”

“It’s Steve Job’s world and we’re all just living in it.”

“Ain’t it the truth.”

“He mentioned he was in a band once,” Liz said.

Pete scoffed. “He mentioned he was in a band? That’s like if Mozart mentions to his baker that he wrote a short lullaby once. The guy helped shape American music in the 60’s and 70’s.”

“I’m not hearing enough compliments on my cooking,” preened Serena from the head of the table.

“That’s because you didn’t cook,” Liz pointed out.

“Here we go again,” Alex mumbled as he filled up his wine glass. Catching his eye, Peter slid his glass over, and Alex wordlessly filled his, too.

~*~*~

“Yes, Mom. Yes. Yes. Yes, Mom.”

Ben shifted in the seat behind him and looked through the gap between the seat and the window. Max looked up and met his smiling eyes, and gave a little chuckle before turning back to his notebook.

“I wish we were there, too, Mom. Yes, he’s here. Hold on, I’ll ask. Max,” she said, turning her cell phone in towards her shoulder and leaning across her seat towards him, “do you want to talk to Mom and Dad?”

“I’m working,” he said without looking over at her.

“He’s busy working, Mom, but he says Happy Thanksgiving to you guys, too,” Isabel only half-covered for her brother. She knew he had his own issues with them and they weren’t unfounded. If he didn’t want to talk to his parents, she wasn’t going to force the issue.

“Yeah, okay. Okay. Uncle Joe?” This time Max looked over at her. Isabel was looking at him with panic in her eyes. Max shook his head urgently. “No, I haven’t heard from him in this week. I’m sure he’s fine. Sure, if I hear from him I’ll let him know. Happy Thanksgiving, Mom. I love you, too. Bye.” Isabel flipped her phone shut. “Fucking Christ, where is he?!” she yelled out.

Every head in the bus whipped towards Isabel.

“Whoa,” Kyle said in his best Keanu Reeves impression, “Isabel said ‘fuck’!”

“Isabel said ‘Christ,” Tess said, equally astonished.

“Buckle up, boys, Armageddon is here,” joked Ben.

“Shut up,” Isabel snapped as she stood up and walked, with as much authority and anger as she could manage on a moving bus, through the door at the back of the bus that separated the beds from the rest of the bus. She slammed the door shut so hard that the bus driver swerved a little in surprise.

The group stared at each other for a few moments in silence before Kyle chirped, “Aunt Flo?” Tess knocked him over the head. “What? What do you think it is, then?”

Max flipped his notebook shut, put it on the seat, then stood up and walked back through the door where his sister had just gone through. Without saying a word.

The remaining three looked as he closed the door behind him. “Maybe it’s genetic,” Kyle quipped.

~*~*~

Isabel was laying down on her usual bottom bunk with her head facing the wall. “I don’t want to talk,” she mumbled. Max didn’t say anything, just knelt down next to the bunk and reached under it for one of his bags. He and Isabel shared one bunk together, with Max getting the top. Kyle and Tess shared the bunk opposite, and the bunk that rested against the back of the bus was Ben’s to sleep on, with some of the guitars and suitcases resting on the bottom bunk and underneath the beds. A small fridge with a cabinet on top fit snugly into the corner.

Isabel stiffened her body in annoyance as she smelled Max’s aftershave nearby and heard him rustling under the bed. After a minute she heard the distinctive sound of glass bottles clanging against each other. When Max finally sat down on the side of the bed next to her, she finally turned around. “What?” she bit out. Max lifted the corner of his mouth and held out a small canvas bag for her to look into. Inside were about thirty travel-size bottles of booze, many with the distinguishable Smirnoff label in different colors.

She looked up at him. “There’s no booze allowed on tour.”

“Iz,” Max said, “It’s Thanksgiving. We’re not playing again until tomorrow. We’re going to have dinner at a truck stop that’s still two hours away. And nobody knows where the fuck Joe is. You couldn’t ask for a better situation to break some of your rules in.”

Isabel thought for a second, then took the bag from Max. “There’s some orange juice in the fridge,” she said as she started digging through bag. Max sat back with an amused look on his face. “What?” she snapped again.

“Just waiting for the magic words, your highness.”

Isabel stared dumbly for a couple of seconds before she said in a guessing tone, “Now,” before going back to her search.

Max chuckled, stood up and walked over to the fridge. “Oh, score!” Isabel exclaimed. “You got the Strawberry flavor. This makes the best screwdrivers.”

“Yep,” Max said so low that only he could hear, “must be Thanksgiving.”

~*~*~

Thanksgiving ended, as all Thanksgivings must. Alex managed to make it home at the end of the night, but Peter and Liz had absolutely no qualms about crashing in Ben’s flat. After enjoying some leftovers for lunch the following day, Liz eventually stumbled back to the store. Pete stuck around for the rest of the weekend, happy for the chance to escape the dorms for a few days.

At the shop, Liz first stood back to admire her work thus far. She had to admit, it hadn’t felt like she’d accomplished much the other day, but she couldn’t deny that the shop looked a lot better with the windows cleaned and the floor polished – where you could see it, anyway.

The next step was to move the furniture aside so that she could clean the rest of the floors, then clean each piece of furniture as she put it back. Or rearranged it.

Moving the furniture alone was going to take days for someone her size.

With a shake of her head, Liz sat back and got to work.

~*~*~

It took two weeks of hard work, sometimes ten hours a day or more, to get the shop up to snuff. Liz even rented a small sander to sand and re-finish the floors. By the end of it, she had to wash the windows and dust all the furniture again. But at the end of it, the store looked shiny and gleaming and clean. It almost reminded Liz of the upper floor of the Crashdown Café, where she’ lived with her family.

The remembrance made her smile; in another two weeks she was going home again, for the first time in a year. And she could hardly wait. But before that happened, she was going to have to face the worst nightmare of anyone in retail.

Christmas shoppers.

Already Liz had seen an increase in customers coming into the shop – meaning that there actually were customers coming into the shop. With her face mask and torn jeans, her hair in a ponytail and covered with a paisley scarf, the front room cleared while furniture, covered in sheets and towels, stacked up in the back doorway, it was hardly a sight that inspired the Christmas (shopping) spirit.

So even after all her work and progress, she worked twice as hard to get the shop back to the way it was, or the way it ought to be, which weren’t necessarily the same thing. She started by placing the bookshelves against the back wall, with the tallest shelves closest to the back door so that the room seemed larger and roomier towards the front and side wall with the glass panes. This, she reasoned, would draw customers away from the back, allowing a sense of privacy. Then she placed some of the nicer tables, armoires and nightstands by the windows, some facing the windows and some facing the interior of the shop. She was sure to space them a few feet apart so that people could walk around them and look at each piece. But in the back corner she put the desk she wanted, far away from prying eyes. She knew that if someone came in and wanted it, she wouldn’t be in a position not to sell it. But she could do her best to keep that day from coming for as long as she could.

Joe had kept cardboard boxes all over the store, some opened and some not. She piled them onto the desk, taking only one down at a time and going through them. One had a set of plates, mostly mismatched, but the quality was good and they weren’t chipped. Liz found some putty and used it to display the plates standing up on the shelves of one of the book cases. In another she found some glass figurines that looked like French antiques. Praying that Joe would forgive her, she went to Home Depot and bought some wall shelves, installed them herself and placed the figures on them. Other boxes held glasses, another old books, another several sets of tablecloths and napkins that, upon Liz’s careful inspection, she found were hand-made. Two or three of the items had holes or stains, but most were sell-able, and Liz displayed them decoratively on the tabletops, folding them up into sets and letting one napkin hang open to show the patterns and colors of each set.

Almost as soon as the store came to resemble a store, people began to come in. Most didn’t buy much, but Liz still managed to get rid of most of the glasses and plates and almost half the table settings.

The last two days before Christmas saw the most marked difference. Liz sold one of the armoires to a woman who was decorating her guest room before her in-laws came for New Year. She felt a bit bad that she had to knock off almost $100 from the price because she had no way of delivering the armoire, but it was still a good sale, and the first piece of furniture she’d sold in the shop. Liz also sold the last of the tablecloth sets – made out of white lace, which she had priced higher than the others – to an older woman with silver hair who wore a Chanel suit and looked just as out of place in the dingy street as a herd of elephants would have.

Finally, at 7 p.m. on the night of December 24th, Liz locked the door to the shop, and flipped the sign on the door from “Open” to “Closed.” Unable to keep the joy from her step, she grabbed her suitcase, which she’d kept in the back room all day in anticipation of the moment she’d finish with the day. She hurried into the street through the back door, turning out all the lights as she went and setting the little-used security system. It took her a few minutes to hail a taxi, but when she finally did he was playing Bing Crosby on the radio. For the first time, Liz let herself relax and feel the Christmas spirit. As they drove down the block, small white flakes began to fall. Liz leaned her head against the window, smiled, and let her exhaustion claim her for the brief ride to the airport.

A few minutes before 7:30, a second taxi pulled up to the store. A tall, lithe man in a black pea coat exited, a duffel bag over his shoulder and a grey wool beanie pulled down over his forehead. He knocked on the front door several times, and when there was no response, he knocked again. He walked around to the back entrance and rang the doorbell and knocked again. Again he tried, and again. Finally he gave up and walked back around to the front. After several minutes of trying, he found a taxi, and gave another address in Rittenhouse Square.

~*~*~

TBC
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