Friday Night 11PM The Crashdown Café
The café had been closed for two hours and the lights were off in the dining area as Jeff Parker sat with his wife in the dimly lit booth. His hand still clasped the cup half full of coffee, coffee that had grown cold an hour ago. Mechanically he took a sip, gazing out at the lights of downtown Roswell beyond the windows.
“It’ll be OK, honey,” said Nancy Parker. “She’ll get over it. Someday she’ll even understand. We’re doing what is necessary. We did it because we love her.” She leaned against her husband, wishing it were different, wishing her family wasn’t in such great pain.
“I’ve never seen her that hurt, Nancy…” His mind went back to the moments that afternoon when they’d called Liz into the birthday room and explained with the help of Ms. Frederickson why they were not allowing her to see Max anymore. Jeff hadn’t really expected his daughter to be happy about the restriction, but he’d been caught by surprise by the depth of her reaction.
She’d looked them in the eye and refused to accept the restriction, and in 16 years Liz had never defied her parents, not even in the terrible twos. When the rape counselor had mentioned that they’d considered getting a restraining order against the boy, and that this was a compromise worked out by the two fathers (one that she personally didn’t entirely approve of), Liz’s face had turned to him and he saw her look at him with that expression of pain......, no worse, much worse, betrayal. She didn’t say it. She didn’t need to say it. Her body language screamed it at him. ‘Dad, How COULD you???’
He’d seen anger then in those eyes, more anger than he’d ever seen Lizzie have about anything. More anger than he would have believed existed in her. She’d gone to her room and locked the door, not even finishing her shift. Her mother had knocked, called to her, and she hadn’t replied. She stayed in the room, saying nothing. He’d knocked on the door asking her to open it. He’d heard her inside, sobbing quietly, but she hadn’t answered him. A half hour before closing he’d sent Maria up to Liz’s room with a tray of food. She’d let Maria in and the two had talked quietly for an hour. Maria had come back down to the closed restaurant, the tray in her hands, the food uneaten and cold.
Jeff had tried to ask Maria how Liz was doing but the anger in Maria’s eyes had driven him back. Maria, the girl who had no hesitation about telling off the justice system in front of the Sheriff and half the county SWAT team had shaken her head, not trusting herself to be able to speak to her best friends father. Finally she had looked at him and said in anger and in sorrow, “You have no idea what you’ve done to her.”
“God, I’ve never seen anyone that mad before,” he said aloud.
“It’s that Stockholm syndrome thing she told us about. Jeff, Lizzie still loves us. She’s just confused.”
“I was really thinking about Maria, but more and more I’m wondering if Lizzie ever will forgive us….forgive me.” ..” said Jeff Parker, thinking of the warning from the Sheriff that he’d ignored, remembering a grim sounding Phillip Evans who’d called back regretting the deal that he’d made, but passing the message from Max that he’d drop the two classes.
“We have to protect her dear, we can’t take any chances. Maybe in six months when this all calms down a little, maybe if we are careful, if we can control the situation, maybe we can let them meet together. Maybe when we know more about the boy, get to know him a little bit. Maybe Ms. Frederickson is over-reacting, but that’s not a chance we can take right now. We need to protect Lizzie right now.”
“I suppose you’re right dear,” Jeff Parker said, sipping the cold bitter dregs of his coffee. ‘But who was there protecting her in that vault?’ he thought to himself. ‘Who put himself between Lizzie and a bullet? Who was there to slay two monsters that would have delighted in her pain, destroyed her, and laughed about it later?’
It sure hadn’t been Jeff or Nancy Parker.
He remembered then what Jim Valenti had said earlier in the day, begging him not to get the court injunction.
‘I’m talking about crossing a line you may never be able to put right with your daughter,’ Jim had said.
Had he done that? He’d scoffed at the Sheriff’s fears when he’d first made the comment, not taking it seriously. He couldn’t believe his daughter had become so attached to this boy, so quickly. But what if the Sheriff had been right? What if Maria had been right? What if Liz’s feelings for Max were much, much deeper than he’d believed.
Tears welled up in Jeff Parker’s eyes and rolled silently down his cheeks to drop quietly on the tabletop below. The couple held each other closely, trying to comfort one another. But Jeff Parker found little comfort.
More and more, he was starting to realize that he had crossed that line.
The Vault (M/L, Mature) (COMPLETE)
Moderators: Itzstacie, Forum Moderators
Saturday 1AM The alley behind the Crashdown Café.
‘Dang, I don’t see how Max manages this fire escape,’ Liz Parker told herself. ‘particularly in the dark.’
Finally, she was at the extension ladder and she found that her full weight was enough, barely, to roll the ladder down to the ground. As she stepped off it, it sprang back into the platform overhead. She had five blocks to go, and she started walking north up the alley, into the darkness.
The man in the GMC Tahoe watched the girl, shaking his head sadly. As she turned around the corner and into the street at the end of the alley, he started the vehicle’s engine and moved slowly to a side street going two blocks before turning north and accelerating to get ahead of the walking girl.
Saturday 1:20 AM The Evans Residence.
It was silent in Max’s bedroom.
The Counting Crows marathon had ended when he’d gotten up to use the toilet. He’d returned to find that his “This Desert Life” CD had been partially melted, along with part of the top of his CD player. He suspected that his sister had gotten tired of hearing Hanginaround or Amy hit the Atmosphere. He’d been laying there since that time, fully dressed, just staring at the ceiling.
And then he felt her presence. She was near, a whole lot closer than five blocks. Quickly, he was out of his window and into the night.
Max knew his night vision was a little better than that of most humans, and he was not surprised when he found her first. But as he came near, she sensed his closeness and turned toward him, spotting him almost immediately. They quickly closed the distance between them, and he held her in his arms, kissing the top of her head. “Let’s get out of here and go somewhere we can talk.”
As the pair walked toward the nearby park they passed a parked Tahoe, their eyes seeing only each other. Suddenly a voice came from behind them.
“Now what does this say about the US education system? Here we have two honor students, one of whom is likely going to be the valedictorian of their class, doing something this incredibly dumb.”
Liz Evans didn’t look back, and didn’t break stride as she responded, “Shouldn’t you be home with Kyle, Sheriff?”
“If you’d been in school this week instead of goofing off at home, Miss Parker, you’d know the football team is in Santa Fe getting ready for the state playoff.”
“I haven’t been goofing off, I’ve been convalescing from my injuries, Sheriff.”
“It must have worked, you didn’t seem to have any trouble coming down that fire escape.”
Both teenagers turned to face the Sheriff, Max looking somewhat cautious, Liz with a half-smile on her face.
“What do you want, Sheriff?,” asked Max Evans. “We haven’t done anything, we aren’t hurting anyone.”
“Well let’s set aside the fact that we have a curfew on minors in this town, and that we’re an hour past it. We’ll even set aside the fact that neither of your folks know you are out here. But it’s hard to pass up the fact that what you are doing is going to cause trouble for everyone, lots of trouble for everyone. I’d like to avoid that. Both of you get in the car.”
“Are we under arrest, Sheriff?”
“No Miss Parker, you are not under arrest. We are going to take a ride to my office, sit down and have a cup of what is likely the world’s worst coffee, since Officer Chavez is on tonight, and have a talk.”
“What happens if I don’t care to get in the car, Sheriff?”
“Well then Miss Parker, I’m probably going to take this Taser and shoot Max there in the butt with it.”
“Why me, Sheriff?”
“Because you’ll probably let me get away with shooting you, Max. If I were to shoot her in the butt I have a hunch I’d wind up as dead as Garber and McMillan.”
It’d been a bad day for both of the teenagers. The humor helped, as did the obvious concern. Both of them got in the back of the Tahoe.
1:40 AM Roswell Sheriff’s Office.
“Well Sheriff, you were honest about the coffee,” said Liz Parker, swallowing and making a face.
“It’s not all that bad,” said Max Evans, adding two packets of sugar and thinking that it tasted a little bit like habanero sauce. “OK Sheriff, we’re here. We’ve got our coffee. So what’s next.”
“Next is that we sit down and talk some sense into you.”
“Sheriff, you can’t believe what my parents and that woman are accusing Max of doing is true! This whole thing is so totally unfair. He did absolutely nothing improper in that vault, and I told you that myself. How could you let my parents do something like that? How could you excuse their actions?”
“Calm down Liz, I’m not the enemy here. And to tell you the truth, I’m not even sure there is an enemy. First of all, your parents are threatening a civil action, not a criminal action. I wouldn’t even get involved unless your parents got the injunction and then your parents convinced a judge that Max violated it.”
“Sheriff, you can’t possibly believe I would hurt Liz.”
“Yes Max, I can believe you’d hurt Liz. I did believe you’d hurt her, less than a week ago.” He reached into his desk and pulled out a folder. “Here is the file I have on you. Saturday morning, one week ago, I was working on this report, trying to figure out why she was so scared of you, how you were threatening her. And I know now I was wrong. I don’t believe that at all today, but I damn sure did then.
You two seem to like to have secrets. Maybe you need to have those secrets, I don’t know. I can’t tell, because I don’t know your secrets. But there are always costs to keeping secrets. Tell me Max, have you really loved Liz since the third grade?”
Max’s jaw dropped open, and he turned toward Liz, who was blushing and pretending to study a picture on the wall. He turned back toward the Sheriff, looked him in the eye, and said “Yes Sheriff, I have.”
“Oh, and you told her that? And her parents? And your parents?”
“Well, no, not exactly, but you see…”
“And you Miss Parker, you’ve loved him since the seventh grade? Did you tell anyone? Anyone at all?”
“Well, Maria guessed….”
“Well that’s great. So to the two of you this has been going on for seven years. To your parents, well, ….neither really knew anything about it. So something happens in the Crashdown four weeks ago, something that you both are still covering up, and all they know, Hell, all I knew was that two people who had apparently never had anything to do with each other were now experiencing some type of intense angst.
It’s a scary world out there, kids. Date rape, domestic abuse, battered woman syndrome, that kind of stuff happens all the time. You bet I was worried that you might harm Liz, Max. So were her parents. And when you conceal how you feel about Liz for seven years, don’t get mad at your dad because he makes a deal with Jeff Parker to avoid legal headaches for his son by keeping him away from a girl he doesn’t even know his son cares about. There’s a price to be paid for keeping secrets.”
“Sheriff, I told them that Max wouldn’t ever hurt me. They should have believed me.”
“You went through what was probably the most traumatic event of your life, Liz, and came out of it telling them that you had total and complete confidence and trust in a kid they didn’t think you hardly knew, someone who was a total stranger to them. That didn’t convince them that Max was OK, Liz, it just convinced them the trauma had left you a couple bubbles off of level.
And then let’s talk about your parents. Where were you two six days ago? In the vault, sure, but by that time you knew the situation was under control. Ok, you had a few broken bones Miss Parker, but you were alive and knew you were going to make it. Max was alive and going to make it. So what did you do then?..., you had a little picnic, told a few jokes, maybe sucked a little face for all I know or care, and waited for the door to open Monday morning.
Let me tell you, I didn’t get two hours sleep from Saturday morning until we got you two out of there on Monday, and I’d be surprised if any of your parents got that much. They were doing exactly what I was doing, fantasizing every gory horror-filled scenario in the world, and dying inside every minute. They were feeling guilty as Hell, because they saw it as their job to protect you kids from harm, and they’d failed to do that job. Trust me, I was feeling that way myself.
You don’t think your father was kicking himself for sending you to make that deposit rather than going himself Miss Parker? It was tearing him apart.”
The Sheriff took a deep breath, took another sip of the coffee. He grimaced as he looked at the cup, shaking his head and putting it down on his desk. ‘Chavez has no idea what coffee is supposed to taste like, none at all.’ Then he looked back at the two teenagers.
“Maybe what they did today was irrational, even stupid, but they’ve been through so damn much this last week that they are entitled to be irrational and stupid for a little bit and maybe it’s time for you two to be the adults and cut them a little slack.”
Jim Valenti could see the two teenagers looking at each other, and it almost seemed like some kind of silent communication was going back and forth between them.
Finally Max Evans looked up at the Sheriff and said, “So what do you think we should do now, Sheriff?”
“Well Max, Liz, what I’d recommend is that you go back home before you are missed, be a little patient, and not do something stupid like running away together that’ll cause more stress for everyone. Your folks need some time to adjust to things, some time to get over their fear and you both need to start being more open with them. I don’t care how shy either of you are, you can’t keep them in the dark and expect them to make informed decisions.
But the choice is yours. You want to go back home, I’ll take you there. You want to leave, there’s a Greyhound bus that comes through here at 3:30 that’ll take you up to Gallup. You can catch Amtrak there.
As far as I’m concerned, you proved you were adults in that vault when you took care of each other. You want to go I won’t stop you. But it’ll crush your folks, and however much you might be mad at them right now, they’re good people who love you. If you do that to them, you’ll be the ones being unfair, and when you finally realize that you aren’t going to forgive yourselves for doing it to them.”
Max looked at Liz, watching her lower lip tremble slightly, feeling through the connection what she was feeling.
“Let’s take Liz home first, Sheriff, she lives the closest,” said Max, looking at Liz. She moved over beside him and held him close. Then she looked up and slowly nodded.
“We’ll give it a try, Sheriff.”
As Liz Parker was straining to pull herself up the fire escape to the rooftop outside her bedroom Max Evans and Jim Valenti were watching from the Yukon down the alley.
“I think I’d better go give her a hand, Sheriff.”
“Max, that would be an incredibly bad idea.”
“Really Sheriff, I’ll just be a minute.”
“Max, if you get out of this car and take one step toward the Parker residence, I’m going to take out my pistol and shoot you.”
“Shoot me? Whatever happened to ‘Protect and Serve,’ Sheriff?”
“That is protecting you, Max. I issued Jeff Parker a concealed weapons permit over five years ago. I’ll shoot to wound you. You’ll heal. Somehow people around you seem to heal real fast from their wounds, like that little lady’s ribs there did.
I somehow think being shot dead by an angry father would be more difficult for you to handle.”
Max looked at the Sheriff sitting next to him in the vehicle. He knew that he should feel threatened by what Valenti had implied, but he saw nothing but good natured amusement in the man’s eyes.
Maybe he should be more trusting. He knew he’d misjudged the Sheriff after Liz was shot four weeks ago, at least as badly as the Sheriff had misjudged him. He didn’t really trust Jim Valenti yet, because old habits die hard. But he could at least contemplate the possibility of trusting him. That was a change. For Max Evans, that was a big change.
‘Dang, I don’t see how Max manages this fire escape,’ Liz Parker told herself. ‘particularly in the dark.’
Finally, she was at the extension ladder and she found that her full weight was enough, barely, to roll the ladder down to the ground. As she stepped off it, it sprang back into the platform overhead. She had five blocks to go, and she started walking north up the alley, into the darkness.
The man in the GMC Tahoe watched the girl, shaking his head sadly. As she turned around the corner and into the street at the end of the alley, he started the vehicle’s engine and moved slowly to a side street going two blocks before turning north and accelerating to get ahead of the walking girl.
Saturday 1:20 AM The Evans Residence.
It was silent in Max’s bedroom.
The Counting Crows marathon had ended when he’d gotten up to use the toilet. He’d returned to find that his “This Desert Life” CD had been partially melted, along with part of the top of his CD player. He suspected that his sister had gotten tired of hearing Hanginaround or Amy hit the Atmosphere. He’d been laying there since that time, fully dressed, just staring at the ceiling.
And then he felt her presence. She was near, a whole lot closer than five blocks. Quickly, he was out of his window and into the night.
Max knew his night vision was a little better than that of most humans, and he was not surprised when he found her first. But as he came near, she sensed his closeness and turned toward him, spotting him almost immediately. They quickly closed the distance between them, and he held her in his arms, kissing the top of her head. “Let’s get out of here and go somewhere we can talk.”
As the pair walked toward the nearby park they passed a parked Tahoe, their eyes seeing only each other. Suddenly a voice came from behind them.
“Now what does this say about the US education system? Here we have two honor students, one of whom is likely going to be the valedictorian of their class, doing something this incredibly dumb.”
Liz Evans didn’t look back, and didn’t break stride as she responded, “Shouldn’t you be home with Kyle, Sheriff?”
“If you’d been in school this week instead of goofing off at home, Miss Parker, you’d know the football team is in Santa Fe getting ready for the state playoff.”
“I haven’t been goofing off, I’ve been convalescing from my injuries, Sheriff.”
“It must have worked, you didn’t seem to have any trouble coming down that fire escape.”
Both teenagers turned to face the Sheriff, Max looking somewhat cautious, Liz with a half-smile on her face.
“What do you want, Sheriff?,” asked Max Evans. “We haven’t done anything, we aren’t hurting anyone.”
“Well let’s set aside the fact that we have a curfew on minors in this town, and that we’re an hour past it. We’ll even set aside the fact that neither of your folks know you are out here. But it’s hard to pass up the fact that what you are doing is going to cause trouble for everyone, lots of trouble for everyone. I’d like to avoid that. Both of you get in the car.”
“Are we under arrest, Sheriff?”
“No Miss Parker, you are not under arrest. We are going to take a ride to my office, sit down and have a cup of what is likely the world’s worst coffee, since Officer Chavez is on tonight, and have a talk.”
“What happens if I don’t care to get in the car, Sheriff?”
“Well then Miss Parker, I’m probably going to take this Taser and shoot Max there in the butt with it.”
“Why me, Sheriff?”
“Because you’ll probably let me get away with shooting you, Max. If I were to shoot her in the butt I have a hunch I’d wind up as dead as Garber and McMillan.”
It’d been a bad day for both of the teenagers. The humor helped, as did the obvious concern. Both of them got in the back of the Tahoe.
1:40 AM Roswell Sheriff’s Office.
“Well Sheriff, you were honest about the coffee,” said Liz Parker, swallowing and making a face.
“It’s not all that bad,” said Max Evans, adding two packets of sugar and thinking that it tasted a little bit like habanero sauce. “OK Sheriff, we’re here. We’ve got our coffee. So what’s next.”
“Next is that we sit down and talk some sense into you.”
“Sheriff, you can’t believe what my parents and that woman are accusing Max of doing is true! This whole thing is so totally unfair. He did absolutely nothing improper in that vault, and I told you that myself. How could you let my parents do something like that? How could you excuse their actions?”
“Calm down Liz, I’m not the enemy here. And to tell you the truth, I’m not even sure there is an enemy. First of all, your parents are threatening a civil action, not a criminal action. I wouldn’t even get involved unless your parents got the injunction and then your parents convinced a judge that Max violated it.”
“Sheriff, you can’t possibly believe I would hurt Liz.”
“Yes Max, I can believe you’d hurt Liz. I did believe you’d hurt her, less than a week ago.” He reached into his desk and pulled out a folder. “Here is the file I have on you. Saturday morning, one week ago, I was working on this report, trying to figure out why she was so scared of you, how you were threatening her. And I know now I was wrong. I don’t believe that at all today, but I damn sure did then.
You two seem to like to have secrets. Maybe you need to have those secrets, I don’t know. I can’t tell, because I don’t know your secrets. But there are always costs to keeping secrets. Tell me Max, have you really loved Liz since the third grade?”
Max’s jaw dropped open, and he turned toward Liz, who was blushing and pretending to study a picture on the wall. He turned back toward the Sheriff, looked him in the eye, and said “Yes Sheriff, I have.”
“Oh, and you told her that? And her parents? And your parents?”
“Well, no, not exactly, but you see…”
“And you Miss Parker, you’ve loved him since the seventh grade? Did you tell anyone? Anyone at all?”
“Well, Maria guessed….”
“Well that’s great. So to the two of you this has been going on for seven years. To your parents, well, ….neither really knew anything about it. So something happens in the Crashdown four weeks ago, something that you both are still covering up, and all they know, Hell, all I knew was that two people who had apparently never had anything to do with each other were now experiencing some type of intense angst.
It’s a scary world out there, kids. Date rape, domestic abuse, battered woman syndrome, that kind of stuff happens all the time. You bet I was worried that you might harm Liz, Max. So were her parents. And when you conceal how you feel about Liz for seven years, don’t get mad at your dad because he makes a deal with Jeff Parker to avoid legal headaches for his son by keeping him away from a girl he doesn’t even know his son cares about. There’s a price to be paid for keeping secrets.”
“Sheriff, I told them that Max wouldn’t ever hurt me. They should have believed me.”
“You went through what was probably the most traumatic event of your life, Liz, and came out of it telling them that you had total and complete confidence and trust in a kid they didn’t think you hardly knew, someone who was a total stranger to them. That didn’t convince them that Max was OK, Liz, it just convinced them the trauma had left you a couple bubbles off of level.
And then let’s talk about your parents. Where were you two six days ago? In the vault, sure, but by that time you knew the situation was under control. Ok, you had a few broken bones Miss Parker, but you were alive and knew you were going to make it. Max was alive and going to make it. So what did you do then?..., you had a little picnic, told a few jokes, maybe sucked a little face for all I know or care, and waited for the door to open Monday morning.
Let me tell you, I didn’t get two hours sleep from Saturday morning until we got you two out of there on Monday, and I’d be surprised if any of your parents got that much. They were doing exactly what I was doing, fantasizing every gory horror-filled scenario in the world, and dying inside every minute. They were feeling guilty as Hell, because they saw it as their job to protect you kids from harm, and they’d failed to do that job. Trust me, I was feeling that way myself.
You don’t think your father was kicking himself for sending you to make that deposit rather than going himself Miss Parker? It was tearing him apart.”
The Sheriff took a deep breath, took another sip of the coffee. He grimaced as he looked at the cup, shaking his head and putting it down on his desk. ‘Chavez has no idea what coffee is supposed to taste like, none at all.’ Then he looked back at the two teenagers.
“Maybe what they did today was irrational, even stupid, but they’ve been through so damn much this last week that they are entitled to be irrational and stupid for a little bit and maybe it’s time for you two to be the adults and cut them a little slack.”
Jim Valenti could see the two teenagers looking at each other, and it almost seemed like some kind of silent communication was going back and forth between them.
Finally Max Evans looked up at the Sheriff and said, “So what do you think we should do now, Sheriff?”
“Well Max, Liz, what I’d recommend is that you go back home before you are missed, be a little patient, and not do something stupid like running away together that’ll cause more stress for everyone. Your folks need some time to adjust to things, some time to get over their fear and you both need to start being more open with them. I don’t care how shy either of you are, you can’t keep them in the dark and expect them to make informed decisions.
But the choice is yours. You want to go back home, I’ll take you there. You want to leave, there’s a Greyhound bus that comes through here at 3:30 that’ll take you up to Gallup. You can catch Amtrak there.
As far as I’m concerned, you proved you were adults in that vault when you took care of each other. You want to go I won’t stop you. But it’ll crush your folks, and however much you might be mad at them right now, they’re good people who love you. If you do that to them, you’ll be the ones being unfair, and when you finally realize that you aren’t going to forgive yourselves for doing it to them.”
Max looked at Liz, watching her lower lip tremble slightly, feeling through the connection what she was feeling.
“Let’s take Liz home first, Sheriff, she lives the closest,” said Max, looking at Liz. She moved over beside him and held him close. Then she looked up and slowly nodded.
“We’ll give it a try, Sheriff.”
As Liz Parker was straining to pull herself up the fire escape to the rooftop outside her bedroom Max Evans and Jim Valenti were watching from the Yukon down the alley.
“I think I’d better go give her a hand, Sheriff.”
“Max, that would be an incredibly bad idea.”
“Really Sheriff, I’ll just be a minute.”
“Max, if you get out of this car and take one step toward the Parker residence, I’m going to take out my pistol and shoot you.”
“Shoot me? Whatever happened to ‘Protect and Serve,’ Sheriff?”
“That is protecting you, Max. I issued Jeff Parker a concealed weapons permit over five years ago. I’ll shoot to wound you. You’ll heal. Somehow people around you seem to heal real fast from their wounds, like that little lady’s ribs there did.
I somehow think being shot dead by an angry father would be more difficult for you to handle.”
Max looked at the Sheriff sitting next to him in the vehicle. He knew that he should feel threatened by what Valenti had implied, but he saw nothing but good natured amusement in the man’s eyes.
Maybe he should be more trusting. He knew he’d misjudged the Sheriff after Liz was shot four weeks ago, at least as badly as the Sheriff had misjudged him. He didn’t really trust Jim Valenti yet, because old habits die hard. But he could at least contemplate the possibility of trusting him. That was a change. For Max Evans, that was a big change.
Last edited by greywolf on Mon Aug 14, 2006 3:36 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Saturday 0530 The Crashdown Café
'I’m talking about crossing a line you may never be able to put right with your daughter'
Jim Valenti’s statement had haunted the restless night of Jeff Parker. He’d gotten little sleep, and most of that tormented by dreams of the pain and anger in Lizzy’s eyes.
As he went down to the café to start preparing for opening, Jeff Parker was surprised to encounter the smell of fresh brewed coffee and to find much of the prep work for the grill already done. Sitting in the nearest booth was his daughter, a cup of coffee in her hands, another empty one sitting across from her. She was eying him warily, as she poured coffee into the other cup, and pushed it toward him. He sat down across from her, lifting the cup with both hands while looking at her. He took a sip from the cup and put it down.
“So have you finally come to your senses?”
Jeff Parker’s heart sank as he saw the hurt and anger flare again in his daughter’s eyes, and instantly regretted his choice of words. Then her face seemed to soften and she took a deep sip of her coffee before looking back at him and saying, “I was never out of my senses, Daddy. I’m still angry, and still hurt, and I haven’t really forgiven you, not yet at least. But I had a long talk with Sheriff Valenti this morning, and he reminded me that you make allowances for the people you love.”
“Jim Valenti was here already? It’s only 5:30.”
“Actually Dad, it was about 2:00 when he dropped me off. I needed to get away from here to think, so I took a walk this morning. He picked me up when he saw me walking over by Anders Park.”
“You were walking out on the streets alone at night? My God, Lizzie, what’s gotten in to you? You know better than that. And why didn’t he call us when he arrested you?”
“He didn’t arrest me, Dad, he just wanted to talk to us. We went back to his office and we had some of the worst coffee I’ve ever tasted. I still can’t believe Max drank it.”
“Max Evans was there?”
“Yes Dad, Max was there. It’s kind of funny how much he’s like you sometimes. He was upset that I was out walking alone too.
So he walked with me. Yeah, Max was there. Max has always been there for me. He was there in the fourth grade when I fell from the overhead bars. He held my arm straight while Maria went to get the teacher, because I thought I’d broken it.”
Liz smiled and shook her head at the memory, suddenly realizing that she probably had broken it, and 10 year old Max had fixed it, without her even knowing. ‘Max, Max,’ she thought, ‘What am I going to do with you?’
“And he was there in the sixth grade, Dad, at the spelling bee that I won, he was runner-up, and you know what? I think he probably tanked his last word on purpose. He was there in seventh grade science class when I needed a lab partner, and I wanted so badly for him to invite me to the sock hop, and he almost did until I let his sister break us up.
And he was right over there, Dad, sitting in that booth when those two guys argued and the gun got fired that day, and he was the first one to my side to see that I was OK after I fell.
And he was in the vault, Dad. Not in there because he had to be, not in there because he was trying to hurt me, he was in there because a friend was in trouble, and he was willing to give his life to help her.
That’s the kind of person Max is, Daddy. He’s no stranger to me. I’ve known him since the third grade. Even if you don’t know him enough to trust him, you should trust my judgment about him.”
The words of anger on Jeff Parker’s tongue about her leaving the house at that hour, about seeing Max Evans after he had forbidden it, froze there as Jim Valenti’s words again went through his head.
'I’m talking about crossing a line you may never be able to put right with your daughter.'
That hadn’t been a walk last night, he knew suddenly. Lizzie had left. She’d walked off all right, but with no intention of coming back. Jim Valenti had calmed her down, made her take a second look at what she was doing. Hell, maybe the Evans kid had too.
There were, he decided suddenly, only two possibilities. Either Max truly was a monster, some kind of a Rasputin who had totally taken control of Lizzie’s emotions, or he, Jeff Parker, had terribly wronged the kid, and terribly wronged his own daughter.
“Lizzie, I wish I knew the truth. I wish to God I knew what really happened in there in those hours you can’t remember. But I can’t take any chances not knowing that,” said Jeff Parker, although part of his mind screamed out to him that he was taking a chance, taking a terrible chance of losing his daughter, losing her forever.
“I promised the Sheriff I’d give you and Mom time, Dad. Like I said, you make allowances for the people you love.”
She sipped her coffee and looked up at him, continuing, “Sheriff Valenti told me how frightened you and Mom were, all Sunday and Monday morning, how frightened everyone was. I’m so sorry you went through that time, so sorry we couldn’t make a phone work or do something to tell you what was going on. Do you want to know what I was doing Sunday morning, Dad?”
Not really sure he wanted to know, Jeff Parker said, “What….?”
“Max and his dad had been headed out to the Arroyo north of town to go fossil-hunting, his dad’s hobby. He’d had the backpack on him when he’d come over to help me, come over to shield me from those two men. He’d packed lunches for the fossil-hunting trip. So we had a picnic, Dad.
My ribs were broken, and my face was a little battered. He wouldn’t hardly let me move, waiting on me hand and foot. He gave me his dad’s corned beef sandwich and even a nibble off of his. That’s what we were doing then, Dad, me and this guy you think is a monster. We were having a picnic together.......
I’m trying to give you time, Dad. I really am. But just a few things. Max can’t transfer out of pre-Calculus and AP Biology, he needs those classes just as much as I do. If you are really forcing this, I’m the one who is going to transfer out. I won’t do that to him.”
“Well maybe......, maybe both of you can stay in the classes together, but you can’t be lab partners, and I don’t want you talking to him except on class business.”
As Jeff Parker looked at his daughter he saw again the pain and anger in her eyes.
“I’m sorry Lizzie, but the problem is that you don’t know what happened before that picnic, you can’t remember it. And that’s just exactly like what Ms Frederickson says happens after someone has been…..sexually assaulted.”
Liz Parker was trying her best to hold her temper in check. She loved her parents, and had taken Jim Valenti’s lecture to heart, but she was enraged that her parents would do things that would hurt Max like this. If it had only been her, it wouldn’t have been so bad.
“Is that what this is all about, Daddy," she asked as her face went red, not from embarassment but from anger.
"You think Max had sex with me?”
“Lizzie, I can’t take the chance he ….did something to you, I won’t take the chance.”
“I’ve got to get ready to open now Dad. I promised the Sheriff to give you and Mom time, but there’s something I’ve got to tell you. I can’t give you forever to understand, Dad. I can’t give you forever to come to your senses.”
And then he saw anger come again into her eyes as she looked back at him and said, “And Dad, …when I have sex with Max Evans, it won’t be because he forced me to do it and I guarantee you he and I will damn sure both remember it a week later.”
Jeff Parker’s eyes grew wide as she walked away. Had that comment been flung out just to hurt him, to shock him? Could his little girl possibly really love this boy that much?
He had so many questions and so few answers, but he knew with certainty that a clock was ticking somewhere, that his time to find those answers was running out.
'I’m talking about crossing a line you may never be able to put right with your daughter'
Jim Valenti’s statement had haunted the restless night of Jeff Parker. He’d gotten little sleep, and most of that tormented by dreams of the pain and anger in Lizzy’s eyes.
As he went down to the café to start preparing for opening, Jeff Parker was surprised to encounter the smell of fresh brewed coffee and to find much of the prep work for the grill already done. Sitting in the nearest booth was his daughter, a cup of coffee in her hands, another empty one sitting across from her. She was eying him warily, as she poured coffee into the other cup, and pushed it toward him. He sat down across from her, lifting the cup with both hands while looking at her. He took a sip from the cup and put it down.
“So have you finally come to your senses?”
Jeff Parker’s heart sank as he saw the hurt and anger flare again in his daughter’s eyes, and instantly regretted his choice of words. Then her face seemed to soften and she took a deep sip of her coffee before looking back at him and saying, “I was never out of my senses, Daddy. I’m still angry, and still hurt, and I haven’t really forgiven you, not yet at least. But I had a long talk with Sheriff Valenti this morning, and he reminded me that you make allowances for the people you love.”
“Jim Valenti was here already? It’s only 5:30.”
“Actually Dad, it was about 2:00 when he dropped me off. I needed to get away from here to think, so I took a walk this morning. He picked me up when he saw me walking over by Anders Park.”
“You were walking out on the streets alone at night? My God, Lizzie, what’s gotten in to you? You know better than that. And why didn’t he call us when he arrested you?”
“He didn’t arrest me, Dad, he just wanted to talk to us. We went back to his office and we had some of the worst coffee I’ve ever tasted. I still can’t believe Max drank it.”
“Max Evans was there?”
“Yes Dad, Max was there. It’s kind of funny how much he’s like you sometimes. He was upset that I was out walking alone too.
So he walked with me. Yeah, Max was there. Max has always been there for me. He was there in the fourth grade when I fell from the overhead bars. He held my arm straight while Maria went to get the teacher, because I thought I’d broken it.”
Liz smiled and shook her head at the memory, suddenly realizing that she probably had broken it, and 10 year old Max had fixed it, without her even knowing. ‘Max, Max,’ she thought, ‘What am I going to do with you?’
“And he was there in the sixth grade, Dad, at the spelling bee that I won, he was runner-up, and you know what? I think he probably tanked his last word on purpose. He was there in seventh grade science class when I needed a lab partner, and I wanted so badly for him to invite me to the sock hop, and he almost did until I let his sister break us up.
And he was right over there, Dad, sitting in that booth when those two guys argued and the gun got fired that day, and he was the first one to my side to see that I was OK after I fell.
And he was in the vault, Dad. Not in there because he had to be, not in there because he was trying to hurt me, he was in there because a friend was in trouble, and he was willing to give his life to help her.
That’s the kind of person Max is, Daddy. He’s no stranger to me. I’ve known him since the third grade. Even if you don’t know him enough to trust him, you should trust my judgment about him.”
The words of anger on Jeff Parker’s tongue about her leaving the house at that hour, about seeing Max Evans after he had forbidden it, froze there as Jim Valenti’s words again went through his head.
'I’m talking about crossing a line you may never be able to put right with your daughter.'
That hadn’t been a walk last night, he knew suddenly. Lizzie had left. She’d walked off all right, but with no intention of coming back. Jim Valenti had calmed her down, made her take a second look at what she was doing. Hell, maybe the Evans kid had too.
There were, he decided suddenly, only two possibilities. Either Max truly was a monster, some kind of a Rasputin who had totally taken control of Lizzie’s emotions, or he, Jeff Parker, had terribly wronged the kid, and terribly wronged his own daughter.
“Lizzie, I wish I knew the truth. I wish to God I knew what really happened in there in those hours you can’t remember. But I can’t take any chances not knowing that,” said Jeff Parker, although part of his mind screamed out to him that he was taking a chance, taking a terrible chance of losing his daughter, losing her forever.
“I promised the Sheriff I’d give you and Mom time, Dad. Like I said, you make allowances for the people you love.”
She sipped her coffee and looked up at him, continuing, “Sheriff Valenti told me how frightened you and Mom were, all Sunday and Monday morning, how frightened everyone was. I’m so sorry you went through that time, so sorry we couldn’t make a phone work or do something to tell you what was going on. Do you want to know what I was doing Sunday morning, Dad?”
Not really sure he wanted to know, Jeff Parker said, “What….?”
“Max and his dad had been headed out to the Arroyo north of town to go fossil-hunting, his dad’s hobby. He’d had the backpack on him when he’d come over to help me, come over to shield me from those two men. He’d packed lunches for the fossil-hunting trip. So we had a picnic, Dad.
My ribs were broken, and my face was a little battered. He wouldn’t hardly let me move, waiting on me hand and foot. He gave me his dad’s corned beef sandwich and even a nibble off of his. That’s what we were doing then, Dad, me and this guy you think is a monster. We were having a picnic together.......
I’m trying to give you time, Dad. I really am. But just a few things. Max can’t transfer out of pre-Calculus and AP Biology, he needs those classes just as much as I do. If you are really forcing this, I’m the one who is going to transfer out. I won’t do that to him.”
“Well maybe......, maybe both of you can stay in the classes together, but you can’t be lab partners, and I don’t want you talking to him except on class business.”
As Jeff Parker looked at his daughter he saw again the pain and anger in her eyes.
“I’m sorry Lizzie, but the problem is that you don’t know what happened before that picnic, you can’t remember it. And that’s just exactly like what Ms Frederickson says happens after someone has been…..sexually assaulted.”
Liz Parker was trying her best to hold her temper in check. She loved her parents, and had taken Jim Valenti’s lecture to heart, but she was enraged that her parents would do things that would hurt Max like this. If it had only been her, it wouldn’t have been so bad.
“Is that what this is all about, Daddy," she asked as her face went red, not from embarassment but from anger.
"You think Max had sex with me?”
“Lizzie, I can’t take the chance he ….did something to you, I won’t take the chance.”
“I’ve got to get ready to open now Dad. I promised the Sheriff to give you and Mom time, but there’s something I’ve got to tell you. I can’t give you forever to understand, Dad. I can’t give you forever to come to your senses.”
And then he saw anger come again into her eyes as she looked back at him and said, “And Dad, …when I have sex with Max Evans, it won’t be because he forced me to do it and I guarantee you he and I will damn sure both remember it a week later.”
Jeff Parker’s eyes grew wide as she walked away. Had that comment been flung out just to hurt him, to shock him? Could his little girl possibly really love this boy that much?
He had so many questions and so few answers, but he knew with certainty that a clock was ticking somewhere, that his time to find those answers was running out.
Last edited by greywolf on Mon Aug 14, 2006 3:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Monday 0830 West Roswell High School
The return of Liz Parker to school after her week of convalescence had results that were predictable to any teenager at the High School, as predictable to them as they were totally surprising to the parents of the girl.
Public High Schools take all comers, the saints, the sinners, and everyone in between. The news blackout of the names of the students involved in the bank incident had been complied with by the press, but Roswell was a small town, and there were few students who weren’t aware of the reason for Liz’s absence.
The community of psychologists, counselors and therapists in Roswell was also small, and all knew Ms. Frederickson. She had lost no time in communicating to her professional colleagues her concerns that the boy was brutal, abusive, and potentially unstable.
While she felt obligated to protect the confidentiality of Liz, she felt no obligation to do so for the Evans boy. He was not her client, and he, she was sure, was a threat to public safety. But since everyone knew the story, it took the school authorities little time to decide that if he was the abuser then Liz most certainly was the abused.
Liz’s parents directives to the school removed whatever reasonable doubt might have occurred to many school personnel as to Max’s innocence, and by complying with their parents demands that they not communicate to each other Liz and Max managed to convince a minority but still considerable number of the student body and faculty that horrible things had been done to Liz in the vault, and Max had at least done some of them.
As strange as it may seem, Liz Parker had been a rather polarizing figure for a number of students at West Roswell High. Her academic success had long been an irritation to many of the students who lacked her dedication and determination to academic excellence. She was an extremely attractive girl, but really didn’t consider herself anything special. This not only earned her the enmity of some of those less attractive, but also the enmity of several young ladies who believed very much that they were special, simply because of their appearance.
Clearly, the majority of the student body that knew Liz liked her, but within the student body there were many cliques, many gossip mongers, and the usual few who simply believed that by being cruel or demeaning someone else, they somehow became more important, more attractive, or more virtuous by comparison. And a lot of students, particularly in the upper grades, simply didn’t know her at all, giving license to the gossip-mongers to say almost anything, without chance of immediate contradiction.
The first casualty of the furor that surrounded the return of Liz Parker to school was, strangely enough, Alex Whitman.
In 10 years of public school education Alex had never had a single disciplinary complaint against him. The action began in 1st period gym class locker room where three of the seedier students in the class were commenting on the return of Liz Parker. One made a comment questioning the controversy and suggesting personal knowledge that Liz’s virginity had never been a real issue to begin with. The individual outweighed Alex by 40 lbs, but was in fact losing a fist fight to the hitherto mild-mannered computer club president when the foul-mouthed student’s two friends joined the battle. The fight boiled over into the hallway outside the gym, Whitman clearly getting the worst of it, but unwilling to quit as long as he was dealing out some measure of punishment to the person who had slandered Liz.
At this point three member’s of what was known to the students of West Roswell as the Ice Princess Posse happened by. The lead member, Isabel Evans, quickly sent the other two girls to get assistance from the principal’s office. By the time help arrived, Alex Whitman was the only one of the four combatants still standing, bloody and bruised, but actually not so much as one really might have expected.
His statement, confirmed by Miss Evans, was that when he started to lose he used karate on his opponents, a martial art he had read about in an on-line website. All his opponents could say for sure was that whatever hit them, had hit them hard. Use of martial arts, being the same under the school anti-violence code as use of a weapon, resulted in his immediate suspension for five days.
The return of Liz Parker to school after her week of convalescence had results that were predictable to any teenager at the High School, as predictable to them as they were totally surprising to the parents of the girl.
Public High Schools take all comers, the saints, the sinners, and everyone in between. The news blackout of the names of the students involved in the bank incident had been complied with by the press, but Roswell was a small town, and there were few students who weren’t aware of the reason for Liz’s absence.
The community of psychologists, counselors and therapists in Roswell was also small, and all knew Ms. Frederickson. She had lost no time in communicating to her professional colleagues her concerns that the boy was brutal, abusive, and potentially unstable.
While she felt obligated to protect the confidentiality of Liz, she felt no obligation to do so for the Evans boy. He was not her client, and he, she was sure, was a threat to public safety. But since everyone knew the story, it took the school authorities little time to decide that if he was the abuser then Liz most certainly was the abused.
Liz’s parents directives to the school removed whatever reasonable doubt might have occurred to many school personnel as to Max’s innocence, and by complying with their parents demands that they not communicate to each other Liz and Max managed to convince a minority but still considerable number of the student body and faculty that horrible things had been done to Liz in the vault, and Max had at least done some of them.
As strange as it may seem, Liz Parker had been a rather polarizing figure for a number of students at West Roswell High. Her academic success had long been an irritation to many of the students who lacked her dedication and determination to academic excellence. She was an extremely attractive girl, but really didn’t consider herself anything special. This not only earned her the enmity of some of those less attractive, but also the enmity of several young ladies who believed very much that they were special, simply because of their appearance.
Clearly, the majority of the student body that knew Liz liked her, but within the student body there were many cliques, many gossip mongers, and the usual few who simply believed that by being cruel or demeaning someone else, they somehow became more important, more attractive, or more virtuous by comparison. And a lot of students, particularly in the upper grades, simply didn’t know her at all, giving license to the gossip-mongers to say almost anything, without chance of immediate contradiction.
The first casualty of the furor that surrounded the return of Liz Parker to school was, strangely enough, Alex Whitman.
In 10 years of public school education Alex had never had a single disciplinary complaint against him. The action began in 1st period gym class locker room where three of the seedier students in the class were commenting on the return of Liz Parker. One made a comment questioning the controversy and suggesting personal knowledge that Liz’s virginity had never been a real issue to begin with. The individual outweighed Alex by 40 lbs, but was in fact losing a fist fight to the hitherto mild-mannered computer club president when the foul-mouthed student’s two friends joined the battle. The fight boiled over into the hallway outside the gym, Whitman clearly getting the worst of it, but unwilling to quit as long as he was dealing out some measure of punishment to the person who had slandered Liz.
At this point three member’s of what was known to the students of West Roswell as the Ice Princess Posse happened by. The lead member, Isabel Evans, quickly sent the other two girls to get assistance from the principal’s office. By the time help arrived, Alex Whitman was the only one of the four combatants still standing, bloody and bruised, but actually not so much as one really might have expected.
His statement, confirmed by Miss Evans, was that when he started to lose he used karate on his opponents, a martial art he had read about in an on-line website. All his opponents could say for sure was that whatever hit them, had hit them hard. Use of martial arts, being the same under the school anti-violence code as use of a weapon, resulted in his immediate suspension for five days.
The second casualty occurred only minutes later.
Pamela Troy shared a first period English class with Maria DeLuca. Pamela was one of those who had always felt that she suffered by comparison to Liz parker, academically, aesthetically, and in social acceptance.
She had made several comments to her classmates in first period English concerning Liz Parker alleging that she had “asked for it” by appearing in public in the “skimpy waitress outfit” and that she was “stuck up” and likely “deserved whatever happened to her in that vault.”
Miss DeLuca, who had been best friend to Miss Parker since the second grade and who worked at the same establishment, and wore the same uniform immediately responded and the cries of “chick fight” rang throughout the building.
Miss DeLuca was more than holding her own in this fight until a boyfriend of Miss Troy, at her urging, attempted to intervene and pull Miss Deluca away from Miss Troy. The boy had scarcely touched Miss DeLuca when Michael Guerin, a student with such frequent absences and truancies that no one at first realized he was actually in that English class grabbed the boy by the collar and tossed him against a wall, promising him an “ass kicking” if he ever touched Miss DeLuca again.
The first three students were suspended for three days under the disciplinary code.
It was uncertain exactly what to do with Guerin, who had technically just helped to break up the fight, but since he had made public threats his foster father, a Hank Guerin was contacted by phone. Unfortunately the man appeared intoxicated and apparently somewhat hung over and threatened an “ass kicking” to anyone that called back to bother him about Michael.
It was ultimately decided that, considering his attendance record, Michael Guerin likely found being in school more painful than being suspended, so he was returned to his second period class.
Pamela Troy shared a first period English class with Maria DeLuca. Pamela was one of those who had always felt that she suffered by comparison to Liz parker, academically, aesthetically, and in social acceptance.
She had made several comments to her classmates in first period English concerning Liz Parker alleging that she had “asked for it” by appearing in public in the “skimpy waitress outfit” and that she was “stuck up” and likely “deserved whatever happened to her in that vault.”
Miss DeLuca, who had been best friend to Miss Parker since the second grade and who worked at the same establishment, and wore the same uniform immediately responded and the cries of “chick fight” rang throughout the building.
Miss DeLuca was more than holding her own in this fight until a boyfriend of Miss Troy, at her urging, attempted to intervene and pull Miss Deluca away from Miss Troy. The boy had scarcely touched Miss DeLuca when Michael Guerin, a student with such frequent absences and truancies that no one at first realized he was actually in that English class grabbed the boy by the collar and tossed him against a wall, promising him an “ass kicking” if he ever touched Miss DeLuca again.
The first three students were suspended for three days under the disciplinary code.
It was uncertain exactly what to do with Guerin, who had technically just helped to break up the fight, but since he had made public threats his foster father, a Hank Guerin was contacted by phone. Unfortunately the man appeared intoxicated and apparently somewhat hung over and threatened an “ass kicking” to anyone that called back to bother him about Michael.
It was ultimately decided that, considering his attendance record, Michael Guerin likely found being in school more painful than being suspended, so he was returned to his second period class.
While the two principles involved were the subject of whispers and stares throughout the building it was only after third period AP Biology when their instructor announced immediately upon the start of class that the two were going to be given different lab partners that they became personally involved in the turmoil.
When Liz Parker heard her replacement question under his breath “….why I have to work with the psycho killer?” she started yelling at the young man. A brief exchange of insults left Miss Parker in tears and Max Evans started toward her.
The entire class saw her look at Max Evans and he just stopped, as if she had forbidden him to get anywhere near her. All of this was seen by the counselor who had decided to observe this class due to the concerns raised by Lucy Frederickson. She removed Miss Parker from class taking her to the office where she notified Nancy Parker that she did not feel her daughter was “emotionally ready” to return to class, and probably should stay home at least a few more days.
This event seemed to buttress the belief of many that Max Evans had indeed done something terrible to the girl during the time in the vault, something that obviously could not be proven with legal sufficiency to bring the boy to trial, but something that clearly had terrified the young girl.
The faculty and counseling staff quickly found themselves divided into two groups, those who believed Max guilty, and those who suspected he was guilty but were giving him the benefit of the doubt.
But the word was out, Max Evans was not to be trusted, he was a marked man. At the first sign of trouble, he would be suspended, and he was to be watched closely for that first sign of trouble.
When Liz Parker heard her replacement question under his breath “….why I have to work with the psycho killer?” she started yelling at the young man. A brief exchange of insults left Miss Parker in tears and Max Evans started toward her.
The entire class saw her look at Max Evans and he just stopped, as if she had forbidden him to get anywhere near her. All of this was seen by the counselor who had decided to observe this class due to the concerns raised by Lucy Frederickson. She removed Miss Parker from class taking her to the office where she notified Nancy Parker that she did not feel her daughter was “emotionally ready” to return to class, and probably should stay home at least a few more days.
This event seemed to buttress the belief of many that Max Evans had indeed done something terrible to the girl during the time in the vault, something that obviously could not be proven with legal sufficiency to bring the boy to trial, but something that clearly had terrified the young girl.
The faculty and counseling staff quickly found themselves divided into two groups, those who believed Max guilty, and those who suspected he was guilty but were giving him the benefit of the doubt.
But the word was out, Max Evans was not to be trusted, he was a marked man. At the first sign of trouble, he would be suspended, and he was to be watched closely for that first sign of trouble.
The incident came at a noon victory rally, being given for the football team that had returned from Santa Fe with the state title. The rally had a festive air of celebration with banners, the school band, and free refreshments donated by local businesses.
The problem really started with Ted Johnson, an obese and obnoxious bully who was generally disliked by most of the students, but who hung out with a small circle of sycophants and toadies who considered his vulgar talk and manner to be amusing. He enjoyed embarrassing the girls with vulgar and suggestive remarks and taunting the boys, at least the ones who could be intimidated by his size or his group. Efforts to curtail his activities the previous year by use of the West Roswell High speech code had been stymied by an injunction filed by the local ACLU chapter, an occurrence which seemed to have energized the young man to new heights of vulgarity.
Max Evans was walking through the quadrangle, lost in thought, not really part of the celebration at all, when he was noticed by Ted Johnson. “Hey Evans,” he called out across the quad, “I hear you got some of that sweet stuff from Parker last weekend.”
Max Evans visibly stiffened in mid stride, taking several deep breaths before continuing toward the other side of the quadrangle. Encouraged by the laughs of his group and the obvious reaction he had gotten from the Evans boy, Johnson continued, “Was it fresh, or just sloppy seconds from the other guys?”
As Max Evans turned a hush fell over the entire quadrangle. A rage burned in his eyes as he slowly walked toward Johnson who suddenly remembered whispered stories of two criminals bludgeoned to death by Evans. His toadies faded into the crowd as Evans advanced, Johnson drew himself up, drawing some courage from the presence of the teachers and counselors who were watching Evans’ every move. But he had never seen rage like that in anyone’s eyes and despite having almost a foot of height and 50 lbs on Max, retreated several steps as the boy approached, stopping only when his back met the side of the building.
Whatever Max Evan’s intention was, it was interrupted when the halfback of the West Roswell Football team stepped between the two boys.
“What do you think you’re doing Evans?”
“Get out of my way, Valenti. This doesn’t concern you.”
“Like hell it doesn’t. You touch him, you’ll be bounced out of this school for good.”
“My decision, Kyle. Out of the way. He’s going to pay for what he said about Liz.”
“Well Evans, I’ll give you that one,” said Kyle Valenti as he turned suddenly and caught Johnson with a punch to the jaw, driving the kid back into the wall where he slid slowly down to the ground. Kyle Valenti instantly grabbed his right hand as swelling appeared on the back of it.
“Damn, I think I broke it. Probably should have just kicked the bastard in the balls.”
The problem really started with Ted Johnson, an obese and obnoxious bully who was generally disliked by most of the students, but who hung out with a small circle of sycophants and toadies who considered his vulgar talk and manner to be amusing. He enjoyed embarrassing the girls with vulgar and suggestive remarks and taunting the boys, at least the ones who could be intimidated by his size or his group. Efforts to curtail his activities the previous year by use of the West Roswell High speech code had been stymied by an injunction filed by the local ACLU chapter, an occurrence which seemed to have energized the young man to new heights of vulgarity.
Max Evans was walking through the quadrangle, lost in thought, not really part of the celebration at all, when he was noticed by Ted Johnson. “Hey Evans,” he called out across the quad, “I hear you got some of that sweet stuff from Parker last weekend.”
Max Evans visibly stiffened in mid stride, taking several deep breaths before continuing toward the other side of the quadrangle. Encouraged by the laughs of his group and the obvious reaction he had gotten from the Evans boy, Johnson continued, “Was it fresh, or just sloppy seconds from the other guys?”
As Max Evans turned a hush fell over the entire quadrangle. A rage burned in his eyes as he slowly walked toward Johnson who suddenly remembered whispered stories of two criminals bludgeoned to death by Evans. His toadies faded into the crowd as Evans advanced, Johnson drew himself up, drawing some courage from the presence of the teachers and counselors who were watching Evans’ every move. But he had never seen rage like that in anyone’s eyes and despite having almost a foot of height and 50 lbs on Max, retreated several steps as the boy approached, stopping only when his back met the side of the building.
Whatever Max Evan’s intention was, it was interrupted when the halfback of the West Roswell Football team stepped between the two boys.
“What do you think you’re doing Evans?”
“Get out of my way, Valenti. This doesn’t concern you.”
“Like hell it doesn’t. You touch him, you’ll be bounced out of this school for good.”
“My decision, Kyle. Out of the way. He’s going to pay for what he said about Liz.”
“Well Evans, I’ll give you that one,” said Kyle Valenti as he turned suddenly and caught Johnson with a punch to the jaw, driving the kid back into the wall where he slid slowly down to the ground. Kyle Valenti instantly grabbed his right hand as swelling appeared on the back of it.
“Damn, I think I broke it. Probably should have just kicked the bastard in the balls.”
Twenty minutes later Kyle Valenti and Max Evans were sitting side by side on the bench outside the Vice-principals office awaiting their parents. Kyle had been suspended for three days for fighting. Dianne Evans was coming to remove Max for “being a disruptive influence,” although he would be allowed to return the next day.
As he saw Dianne Evans drive in to the parking lot, Kyle Valenti turned to Max and said, “Hey Max. Thanks for the ice, it really helped.”
“Thanks for stepping in there Kyle. If you hadn’t stopped me I’d have probably made a bad situation a lot worse. I owe you one.”
“Hey Max, you owe me several, stealing Liz away from me and all.”
“Kyle..”
“No, just kidding Max. I’ve made my peace with that, really. I really like Liz, and she’ll always be my friend, even if we didn’t quite click as a couple. My Dad told me that he could tell from the security videos that you went in there on purpose, you put yourself between Liz and the bullets flying around in there. I don’t care what you did to those two bastards, I just wish I could have been there to help. And I know you’d never hurt Liz. Whatever problems you and I have had, that’s one thing I know for sure. I’m glad you were there to protect her Max, glad you were there for her when she needed you.”
“Thanks Kyle, that means a lot to me,” said Max holding out his hand. The two shook hands and as Max walked over to a stern-faced Diane Evans, Kyle looked down at his hand, first making a fist and then wiggling his fingers. “Dang, that ice pack of Max’s really worked.”
Ten minutes later, when Kyle Valenti explained why he was suspended to a chagrined Sheriff Valenti he mentioned the damage to his hand and how it had improved almost as an afterthought. Kyle was surprised as his normally stern disciplinarian father started to chuckle.
“Well what’s going to happen to me because of the fight, Dad?”
“Well son, I hope you learned a valuable lesson from this. Next time just kick him in the balls. Come on, I’ll buy you lunch.”
On the way out to his father’s car Kyle stopped by the pep rally and talked to the All-State offensive guard and All-Conference fullback on the West Roswell team, both nice guys but both with bad learning disabilities. Liz Parker had volunteered to tutor both of them as they had attended summer school to repeat math courses that would have left them academically ineligible. Both of the young men knew that they would not have played football this year without the help of Liz Parker, and both were more than eager to go explain to Johnson and his cronies that they’d best not say another word, not a single word about the young lady. The message was understood.
As he saw Dianne Evans drive in to the parking lot, Kyle Valenti turned to Max and said, “Hey Max. Thanks for the ice, it really helped.”
“Thanks for stepping in there Kyle. If you hadn’t stopped me I’d have probably made a bad situation a lot worse. I owe you one.”
“Hey Max, you owe me several, stealing Liz away from me and all.”
“Kyle..”
“No, just kidding Max. I’ve made my peace with that, really. I really like Liz, and she’ll always be my friend, even if we didn’t quite click as a couple. My Dad told me that he could tell from the security videos that you went in there on purpose, you put yourself between Liz and the bullets flying around in there. I don’t care what you did to those two bastards, I just wish I could have been there to help. And I know you’d never hurt Liz. Whatever problems you and I have had, that’s one thing I know for sure. I’m glad you were there to protect her Max, glad you were there for her when she needed you.”
“Thanks Kyle, that means a lot to me,” said Max holding out his hand. The two shook hands and as Max walked over to a stern-faced Diane Evans, Kyle looked down at his hand, first making a fist and then wiggling his fingers. “Dang, that ice pack of Max’s really worked.”
Ten minutes later, when Kyle Valenti explained why he was suspended to a chagrined Sheriff Valenti he mentioned the damage to his hand and how it had improved almost as an afterthought. Kyle was surprised as his normally stern disciplinarian father started to chuckle.
“Well what’s going to happen to me because of the fight, Dad?”
“Well son, I hope you learned a valuable lesson from this. Next time just kick him in the balls. Come on, I’ll buy you lunch.”
On the way out to his father’s car Kyle stopped by the pep rally and talked to the All-State offensive guard and All-Conference fullback on the West Roswell team, both nice guys but both with bad learning disabilities. Liz Parker had volunteered to tutor both of them as they had attended summer school to repeat math courses that would have left them academically ineligible. Both of the young men knew that they would not have played football this year without the help of Liz Parker, and both were more than eager to go explain to Johnson and his cronies that they’d best not say another word, not a single word about the young lady. The message was understood.
Nancy Parker noticed her daughter trying hard not to cry as she drove her home from school. When they reached the Crashdown, she told Liz to go up to her room to rest. But she didn’t, she changed in to her waitress uniform saying that as long as she was home she might as well work.
Nancy asked her daughter what her new lab partner had said to her and was told only, “You don’t want to know.”
As Liz went into the café Nancy checked the answering machine for messages. There was just one:
“Will someone please tell Liz Parker that the homework for AP Biology for this week is chapter 9, and she will need to do the odd questions at the end of the chapter by Thursday. There will be a class quiz Friday morning covering both chapters 8 and 9. Thank you.”
Nancy Parker realized that she had never really met the person who had left that message, but she’d seen him about three times. He was Max Evans.
Sometimes it was the little things, she thought. Lizzy had fought so hard with her parents to keep Max Evans in that class. Max had fought so hard with his parents to keep her in it. She had confiscated Liz’s cell phone, to keep him from trying to contact her. This was a work phone, Max wouldn’t have expected Liz to hear the message, wouldn’t have expected her to ever know who called it in. But he called anyway so someone would let her know what she needed to know.
Jeff had told her about Lizzy’s talk with him, her ....threat to him Saturday morning, after she had walked off into the night, after the Sheriff had brought her home. Liz had said Max had been there for her, that he had always been there for her.
It had frightened Nancy when she’d first heard it, as if Max had been stalking Liz all of her childhood. But then Jeff had described the things Liz had said, all of the small kindnesses Liz remembered, all the way back to third grade. And here was another small kindness, one Liz would likely never know about.
Nancy Parker suddenly found her heart in her throat, facing a logical dilemma. She could not bring herself to hope that her daughter had been assaulted by the boy, had been…violated by him. But the alternative to that was that she and her husband had done great harm to a kind friend of Liz’s, someone who had never harmed their daughter and who she knew had saved Liz’s life at least once. And her heart ached at either possibility. And time was running out on the Parker’s, Liz had made that plain.
Whatever had really happened, they were alienating their daughter, they were losing her.
Why had they never met this boy? How could he have been part of Lizzy’s life for so long, how could Lizzy have such good memories of someone her parents didn’t even know?
A few days ago listening to Lucy talk she’d decided that she never wanted to see this boy, never wanted him to have anything to do with their family. Lucy had presented this course as the prudent thing to do, the cautious thing, and Nancy had embraced it thinking that it had little cost and no risk. If the boy had done what Lucy claimed, of course he should never see Liz again. If he had not, well the boy certainly was not that important to Liz anyway.
Only he was, it appeared.
The stakes were too high to just accept Lucy’s plan to keep the kids apart. They needed to find out more about Max, needed to be sure that they had to do what they were doing, because there was cost and risk to this plan, costs and risks that Nancy had never anticipated.
Jeff had told her about Jim Valenti’s statement, “I’m talking about crossing a line you may never be able to put right with your daughter” When she had first heard what Jim had said, she thought he was crazy, that he should mind his own business.
But Jeff had convinced her that if Jim hadn’t intervened, Liz might already be gone.
And Max would be with her, she realized. Because Max was always there for her? Or for something more sinister? She wished to God she knew.
They could no longer afford to be ignorant about Max Evans, because ignorance might cost them Liz.
Nancy asked her daughter what her new lab partner had said to her and was told only, “You don’t want to know.”
As Liz went into the café Nancy checked the answering machine for messages. There was just one:
“Will someone please tell Liz Parker that the homework for AP Biology for this week is chapter 9, and she will need to do the odd questions at the end of the chapter by Thursday. There will be a class quiz Friday morning covering both chapters 8 and 9. Thank you.”
Nancy Parker realized that she had never really met the person who had left that message, but she’d seen him about three times. He was Max Evans.
Sometimes it was the little things, she thought. Lizzy had fought so hard with her parents to keep Max Evans in that class. Max had fought so hard with his parents to keep her in it. She had confiscated Liz’s cell phone, to keep him from trying to contact her. This was a work phone, Max wouldn’t have expected Liz to hear the message, wouldn’t have expected her to ever know who called it in. But he called anyway so someone would let her know what she needed to know.
Jeff had told her about Lizzy’s talk with him, her ....threat to him Saturday morning, after she had walked off into the night, after the Sheriff had brought her home. Liz had said Max had been there for her, that he had always been there for her.
It had frightened Nancy when she’d first heard it, as if Max had been stalking Liz all of her childhood. But then Jeff had described the things Liz had said, all of the small kindnesses Liz remembered, all the way back to third grade. And here was another small kindness, one Liz would likely never know about.
Nancy Parker suddenly found her heart in her throat, facing a logical dilemma. She could not bring herself to hope that her daughter had been assaulted by the boy, had been…violated by him. But the alternative to that was that she and her husband had done great harm to a kind friend of Liz’s, someone who had never harmed their daughter and who she knew had saved Liz’s life at least once. And her heart ached at either possibility. And time was running out on the Parker’s, Liz had made that plain.
Whatever had really happened, they were alienating their daughter, they were losing her.
Why had they never met this boy? How could he have been part of Lizzy’s life for so long, how could Lizzy have such good memories of someone her parents didn’t even know?
A few days ago listening to Lucy talk she’d decided that she never wanted to see this boy, never wanted him to have anything to do with their family. Lucy had presented this course as the prudent thing to do, the cautious thing, and Nancy had embraced it thinking that it had little cost and no risk. If the boy had done what Lucy claimed, of course he should never see Liz again. If he had not, well the boy certainly was not that important to Liz anyway.
Only he was, it appeared.
The stakes were too high to just accept Lucy’s plan to keep the kids apart. They needed to find out more about Max, needed to be sure that they had to do what they were doing, because there was cost and risk to this plan, costs and risks that Nancy had never anticipated.
Jeff had told her about Jim Valenti’s statement, “I’m talking about crossing a line you may never be able to put right with your daughter” When she had first heard what Jim had said, she thought he was crazy, that he should mind his own business.
But Jeff had convinced her that if Jim hadn’t intervened, Liz might already be gone.
And Max would be with her, she realized. Because Max was always there for her? Or for something more sinister? She wished to God she knew.
They could no longer afford to be ignorant about Max Evans, because ignorance might cost them Liz.
The Crashdown was short two waitresses who normally worked the daytime noon shift, one was on vacation, the other, a new grandmother, in Gallup helping her son-in-law care for her daughter and the newborn. Nancy Parker was surprised but gratified to see Maria come in the door. “Why aren’t you in school, Maria?”
“Well, I got a three day ‘vacation’ for fighting with Pamela Troy. I knew you were short this week, so figured I might as well help.”
“You were in a fight? But why?”
“The girl said something I didn’t like, Mrs. P, and before you ask,..you don’t want to know.”
“Maria, before you change, can I talk to you in private?” said Nancy Parker, motioning her into the “birthday room.”
“What about, Mrs. P?”
“Jeff has told me that you don’t approve of the restrictions we have put on Liz and the Evans boy, and I really don’t want to argue with you about that. But I need some information.”
“Will I’m not real good at avoiding arguments about things that are wrong and unfair, Mrs. P. If I was I’d be in school right now. I think what you and Mrs. P did to Liz and Max was the cruelest thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve been your daughter’s best friend since the second grade, and nothing has ever hurt her as badly as what you did to Max. But if I can give you information that’ll help, I’ll try.”
Nancy Parker was shaking as she sat down across from Maria. She’d believed that Jeff had been exaggerating when he’d mentioned Maria’s reaction to what they’d done. She’d known Maria for most of her life, she and Lizzy had been inseparable as kids. And she certainly had not been in the vault, she certainly hadn’t been brutalized by Max Evans, had she?
“Tell me about Max, Maria. Tell me how this boy has become so important to my daughter, and why I’ve barely met him? How could that have happened, if it wasn’t due to something ….something in the vault.?”
“I’m not sure how long Max has loved Liz, Mrs. P. He’s always been so shy, so introverted. He’s always been nice to her, but of course he’s really always been nice to everybody, just kind of distant, kind of a loner. But I could catch him looking at her, and then quickly looking away, even in the fourth grade.
Liz had a big crush on him in the seventh grade, almost got him to come out of his shell and invite her to the sock hop, but then kind of got scared off somehow. We were all pretty shy when it came to boy-girl stuff back then. Max was real shy.
I used to kid Liz that Max was watching her, that he had a crush on her and I think she really wanted it to be true so bad. She’d say, “Oh Maria, that is sooo in your mind,” but she’d just glow with happiness when I’d tease her about him. And one day it came true. One day Max couldn’t pretend any longer, one day…..well, she really needed his help, and he was there for her. And neither one of them could pretend it wasn’t real any longer.”
“But Maria, when did all this happen?”
“Oh, awhile ago,” said Maria, feeling she’d said just about as much as she could, Liz would never forgive her if she gave away Max’s secret.
“Maria, I know for a fact that the Sheriff was questioning you about this boy just three or four weeks ago. You were afraid of him then, I know you were.”
“Well, Mrs. P, I wouldn’t exactly say that I was afraid of Max, it’s just that I learned he was a little different than I thought he was, not bad or anything, but just a little different, and that just kind of surprised me.”
“Why hasn’t he ever dated Lizzy?”
“That was kind of Max’s fault. He thought he was too …different, that Liz really wouldn’t be able to see past that. He was wrong. She loved him anyway. They were having issues the day she went to the bank. He had told her he didn’t think they should be together, that he really couldn’t give her the kind of life she deserved. She was really down, so was he. It was a fluke that he was there. His Dad’s a lawyer and had to get some papers notarized. Thank God he was there, though.”
Thanking God that Max had been in the vault with her daughter had not recently been on Nancy Parker’s agenda, but she had read the newspaper stories about the two other people in there. “I suppose it was a good thing that he happened to get trapped in there with her, even if what he did to those two was horrible.”
“Horrible? Mrs. P, what on earth do you think they would have done to Liz if Max hadn’t been there? You saw the x-rays of her broken ribs, her face… That was just for the warmup, Mrs. P. Liz wasn’t going to get out of there alive. She probably wouldn’t have even wanted to live after a few hours.
And Max didn’t “happen to get trapped” in there with her.
He was with his dad, way over in the loan section. Liz told me that she was watching him over there, wishing he’d just understand that his being a little different didn’t matter to her. She said that when the guys pulled out their guns and shot Mr. Fillmore, the next thing she knew Max was between them and her. They couldn’t push her into the vault without pushing Max in. He hadn’t given them any choice.”
Nancy remembered the tortured words of Jeff Parker, when he had described to her his conversation with Liz on Sunday morning, the morning after Lizzie almost walked out of their lives. “Yeah, Max was there. Max has always been there for me.”
“Maria, how is he different? Is that what made him beat those men so badly? Why would he do that? Why would he do that in front of Lizzy? Does he have some kind of an impulse control problem? Is he violent? Is he afraid that he’ll hurt her if he dates her normally. Couldn’t Ms. Frederickson be right about him?”
“Mrs P., I’ve told you all I can. Maybe Max could tell you more, but I can’t.
But I can tell you this Mrs. P, Max would never ever hurt Liz. He could never hurt Liz. That boy is seriously in love with your daughter. He’d beat down the gates of Hell itself to keep her from being harmed. I don’t know really if they will ever make it as a couple, they still have issues, he still isn’t sure he’s…good enough for Liz. But I know that whatever happens, Max will always be Liz’s friend. He’ll always be there if she needs him. And I know that Liz is head over heels in love with him.” Maria turned around, and left to go get her uniform on.
Alex Whitman had always said that what Maria said had to be put through “the Maria filter,” and Nancy Parker considered that when she thought about their conversation. Even if Maria was a “drama queen,” she and Liz had been best friends for most of Liz’s life.
Nancy worried about her talk of Max being “different,” and her evasiveness about what that meant. She was sure that Maria meant what she said, that she believed Max loved Liz, but that just made it more confusing. If he didn’t think he was worthy of Liz, if he didn’t…trust himself to be around her daughter, why should she? What was he hiding?
But Maria certainly knew Liz. If she said Liz loved the boy, Liz really did love him. And that raised the ante all that much more. Liz had said that the clock was ticking, that she was giving them time to come to grips with what she viewed as reality. Liz wasn’t agreeing with her parents choice, her every conversation made that clear. She was…what… indulging them? Making allowances for them she called it.
Nancy Parker knew she was bone tired. She’d barely slept while Lizzy was in the vault, and barely slept in the week since, dealing with Lizzy’s injuries, dealing with her nightmares, then dealing with her anger, her uncharacteristic disobedience. She and Jeff needed more information, and they needed more time.
If either of them had any idea that Lizzy might really care for this boy, would they have made the same decision? If they’d talked to Maria first, would they have at least known that there was a potential price to be paid for “erring on the side of caution”? If they hadn’t been so tired, felt so helpless, would they have been so willing to listen to Lucy Frederickson?
“Well, I got a three day ‘vacation’ for fighting with Pamela Troy. I knew you were short this week, so figured I might as well help.”
“You were in a fight? But why?”
“The girl said something I didn’t like, Mrs. P, and before you ask,..you don’t want to know.”
“Maria, before you change, can I talk to you in private?” said Nancy Parker, motioning her into the “birthday room.”
“What about, Mrs. P?”
“Jeff has told me that you don’t approve of the restrictions we have put on Liz and the Evans boy, and I really don’t want to argue with you about that. But I need some information.”
“Will I’m not real good at avoiding arguments about things that are wrong and unfair, Mrs. P. If I was I’d be in school right now. I think what you and Mrs. P did to Liz and Max was the cruelest thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve been your daughter’s best friend since the second grade, and nothing has ever hurt her as badly as what you did to Max. But if I can give you information that’ll help, I’ll try.”
Nancy Parker was shaking as she sat down across from Maria. She’d believed that Jeff had been exaggerating when he’d mentioned Maria’s reaction to what they’d done. She’d known Maria for most of her life, she and Lizzy had been inseparable as kids. And she certainly had not been in the vault, she certainly hadn’t been brutalized by Max Evans, had she?
“Tell me about Max, Maria. Tell me how this boy has become so important to my daughter, and why I’ve barely met him? How could that have happened, if it wasn’t due to something ….something in the vault.?”
“I’m not sure how long Max has loved Liz, Mrs. P. He’s always been so shy, so introverted. He’s always been nice to her, but of course he’s really always been nice to everybody, just kind of distant, kind of a loner. But I could catch him looking at her, and then quickly looking away, even in the fourth grade.
Liz had a big crush on him in the seventh grade, almost got him to come out of his shell and invite her to the sock hop, but then kind of got scared off somehow. We were all pretty shy when it came to boy-girl stuff back then. Max was real shy.
I used to kid Liz that Max was watching her, that he had a crush on her and I think she really wanted it to be true so bad. She’d say, “Oh Maria, that is sooo in your mind,” but she’d just glow with happiness when I’d tease her about him. And one day it came true. One day Max couldn’t pretend any longer, one day…..well, she really needed his help, and he was there for her. And neither one of them could pretend it wasn’t real any longer.”
“But Maria, when did all this happen?”
“Oh, awhile ago,” said Maria, feeling she’d said just about as much as she could, Liz would never forgive her if she gave away Max’s secret.
“Maria, I know for a fact that the Sheriff was questioning you about this boy just three or four weeks ago. You were afraid of him then, I know you were.”
“Well, Mrs. P, I wouldn’t exactly say that I was afraid of Max, it’s just that I learned he was a little different than I thought he was, not bad or anything, but just a little different, and that just kind of surprised me.”
“Why hasn’t he ever dated Lizzy?”
“That was kind of Max’s fault. He thought he was too …different, that Liz really wouldn’t be able to see past that. He was wrong. She loved him anyway. They were having issues the day she went to the bank. He had told her he didn’t think they should be together, that he really couldn’t give her the kind of life she deserved. She was really down, so was he. It was a fluke that he was there. His Dad’s a lawyer and had to get some papers notarized. Thank God he was there, though.”
Thanking God that Max had been in the vault with her daughter had not recently been on Nancy Parker’s agenda, but she had read the newspaper stories about the two other people in there. “I suppose it was a good thing that he happened to get trapped in there with her, even if what he did to those two was horrible.”
“Horrible? Mrs. P, what on earth do you think they would have done to Liz if Max hadn’t been there? You saw the x-rays of her broken ribs, her face… That was just for the warmup, Mrs. P. Liz wasn’t going to get out of there alive. She probably wouldn’t have even wanted to live after a few hours.
And Max didn’t “happen to get trapped” in there with her.
He was with his dad, way over in the loan section. Liz told me that she was watching him over there, wishing he’d just understand that his being a little different didn’t matter to her. She said that when the guys pulled out their guns and shot Mr. Fillmore, the next thing she knew Max was between them and her. They couldn’t push her into the vault without pushing Max in. He hadn’t given them any choice.”
Nancy remembered the tortured words of Jeff Parker, when he had described to her his conversation with Liz on Sunday morning, the morning after Lizzie almost walked out of their lives. “Yeah, Max was there. Max has always been there for me.”
“Maria, how is he different? Is that what made him beat those men so badly? Why would he do that? Why would he do that in front of Lizzy? Does he have some kind of an impulse control problem? Is he violent? Is he afraid that he’ll hurt her if he dates her normally. Couldn’t Ms. Frederickson be right about him?”
“Mrs P., I’ve told you all I can. Maybe Max could tell you more, but I can’t.
But I can tell you this Mrs. P, Max would never ever hurt Liz. He could never hurt Liz. That boy is seriously in love with your daughter. He’d beat down the gates of Hell itself to keep her from being harmed. I don’t know really if they will ever make it as a couple, they still have issues, he still isn’t sure he’s…good enough for Liz. But I know that whatever happens, Max will always be Liz’s friend. He’ll always be there if she needs him. And I know that Liz is head over heels in love with him.” Maria turned around, and left to go get her uniform on.
Alex Whitman had always said that what Maria said had to be put through “the Maria filter,” and Nancy Parker considered that when she thought about their conversation. Even if Maria was a “drama queen,” she and Liz had been best friends for most of Liz’s life.
Nancy worried about her talk of Max being “different,” and her evasiveness about what that meant. She was sure that Maria meant what she said, that she believed Max loved Liz, but that just made it more confusing. If he didn’t think he was worthy of Liz, if he didn’t…trust himself to be around her daughter, why should she? What was he hiding?
But Maria certainly knew Liz. If she said Liz loved the boy, Liz really did love him. And that raised the ante all that much more. Liz had said that the clock was ticking, that she was giving them time to come to grips with what she viewed as reality. Liz wasn’t agreeing with her parents choice, her every conversation made that clear. She was…what… indulging them? Making allowances for them she called it.
Nancy Parker knew she was bone tired. She’d barely slept while Lizzy was in the vault, and barely slept in the week since, dealing with Lizzy’s injuries, dealing with her nightmares, then dealing with her anger, her uncharacteristic disobedience. She and Jeff needed more information, and they needed more time.
If either of them had any idea that Lizzy might really care for this boy, would they have made the same decision? If they’d talked to Maria first, would they have at least known that there was a potential price to be paid for “erring on the side of caution”? If they hadn’t been so tired, felt so helpless, would they have been so willing to listen to Lucy Frederickson?