Revved To The Maxx

I felt a smirk pull on my lips. I knew he’d left to avoid me. “No, just out exploring.”

“How about a glass of lemonade on my porch instead?”

I paused.

“I’m Mary,” she said, as if that explained everything. “Maxx is like an adopted son to me.” She slid on her sunglasses and peered over the top of them. “A difficult, ornery one most of the time these days.”

Laughing, I stepped into the vehicle. “In that case, then yes, a glass of lemonade would be most welcome.”

“Excellent.”I settled into the porch swing at Mary’s, a tall glass of lemonade in one hand and a cookie in the other. I munched happily, letting the swing move, enjoying the quiet and the vista until Mary came out, carrying a steaming cup of tea. She sat down on the chair and eyed me frankly.

“You are nothing like the last one. Thank god for that.”

I frowned. “Maxx’s last assistant?”

She snorted, lifting her tea. “Sure, we can call that thieving backstabber an assistant. Usually, I simply refer to her as The Tramp.”

I choked on my lemonade, trying not to laugh. “Yowsers.” Swallowing, I cleared my throat. “I take it you know Maxx well?”

“Yes. His mother and I were great friends.”

I was careful as I spoke. “I don’t know much about him, to be honest. I only started working for him yesterday.”

She winked at me. “You certainly arrived with a bang, didn’t you?”

I gaped at her. Then, seeing the amused look on her face, I began to giggle. “That’s one way of putting it.”

She relaxed back in her chair. “I was the one who told Maxx to put an ad on that online site. I use it for lots of things—even hired kids to help out around here.” She sighed. “I told him to be specific. I had no idea how specific he was going to be.”

“I thought he was an old curmudgeon,” I admitted. “But I was desperate.”

“Did you know he thought you were a man?”

“Yes, but as I said, desperate.”

“What’s your story?”

Normally, I would brush a question like that aside, or tell a humorous rendition, the way I did to Maxx on the Friday night. But something about this woman made me feel as if I could tell her the truth. So, I did. I told her about moving to Toronto. Losing my dad. The roommate from hell. The lecherous landlord. She guffawed loudly at my antics with Terry. Frowned over Trish. Patted my hand when I spoke about my dad.

When I told her about the wallets and the money, she smiled. “Heaven looks after those in need, child. Your father was watching over you.”

“I think so too.”

“Did you tell Maxx all this?”

“Some. I glossed over a few details.”

She pursed her lips, not speaking for a moment. “You should tell him the whole story. The two of you have a lot in common.”

I lifted my eyebrows. “The, ah, Tramp?”

“Yes. She did a number on him. She and that asswipe of a friend. Billy,” she spat his name. “I never liked him. He proved me right.”

I nibbled another cookie. “I don’t think Maxx and I will get around to sharing our life stories, Mary. I don’t think he likes me that much.”

Unless he was kissing me—then he seemed to like me a lot. But I refrained from adding that statement.

She waved her hand. “He’s a good man. He was a good son, too—took care of his parents. He refused to allow his father to give him the shop, instead buying it. He knew they’d lost a lot of money, and he wanted them comfortable. He had no desire to live in that house, but he bought it too. Moved back from Lomand and took it over. Fixed it up nice, at least until that cow moved in and mucked it up.”

I thought of the house. The differences in the various rooms. Some, like the kitchen and dining room, were warm and homey. Others, stark and out of place in the setting.

“He’s been hurt and is cautious,” she added, taking another sip of tea.

“And grumpy.”

She agreed. “You’ve sent him into a tailspin, I’ll say that much. He doesn’t know whether he’s coming or going.”

“I just want to do a good job.”

“Maxx was impressed by what you had done yesterday.”

I told her about the invoices and Maxx getting annoyed over my bossiness. That made her laugh all over again.

“Oh, child, you are going to be good for him. Stay strong. He needs that.”

“What did that other woman do to him?”

She shook her head. “That’s for him to decide if he wants to tell you. I hope that he will. I think it would help both of you.”

I wasn’t sure Maxx would ever confide anything in me. He was too busy being grouchy all the time. Or telling me what to do. And, on occasion, that little voice reminded me, kissing me.