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The walk is warm and humid as I make my way down the dirt driveway to the brewery. It’s still early, two hours before we open, so I unlock the employee entrance with my key and walk in. The sounds of Taylor Swift echo throughout the brewery. Olive has been playing “Bejeweled” nonstop since it came out last year.
When I arrive at my parents’ office, Olive is strutting, swiping her arm from one direction from another, something she learned from the drag queen brunch I took her to. I can’t help but smile, although my heart is shattered and I’m about shatter hers. Max will leave without saying goodbye.
“Mom, I missed you!” She collides with my stomach, and I let out an “oomph” with her impact. I smooth down her hair and kiss her part, cradling her to me.
“Is he gone?” my mother whispers. I nod over Olive’s head.
I sit down in my dad’s chair and wheel towards Olive. “Baby, come here.”
Olive turns with attitude, and when she sees my face, her cheeks drop. “What is it, Mom?”
I rub my lips together, and I taste the salt from my tears. “Max had to go home to take care of some stuff, but he said he would call you as soon as possible.”
Her forehead creases. “Max is gone?”
“Yes, baby.” My heart breaks into smaller pieces as I watch her process it.
Olive nods once and looks at me with determination. “He’ll come back.”
I grab my heart. Dear God, I hope she’s right.
“Yes, he will,” I say, taking her into my arms, although I’m not sure. Sometimes, I have to lie as a mother. It’s better than breaking her heart.
“Max is a good guy,” my daughter says, sounding older than nine.
“He is,” I say.
Her tiny arms go around my ribcage, pressing into my back like she’s the one comforting me.
“My sweet girl,” I say against her hair as she sniffles against my chest.
My phone pulses in my pocket, and my eyes bulge when I pull it out.
It’s Max.
“Hi,” I say, my voice hopeful.
“Can I talk to Olive?” Max asks.
“Of course.” I hand the phone to Olive. “It’s Max.”
She smiles widely as she take the phone and holds it to her ear. “Hello?”
I can’t hear a word Max is saying on the other end, I just watch Olive’s head nodding as she listens. “I will” is all she says.
After a few more minutes, she says “Bye” and hands the phone back to me.
“What did he say, Olive?” my mom asks before I can.
“I can’t tell,” Olive says. Her face is serene and peaceful as she walks past us, turning, and looking up at me. “Mom, can I use the iPad?”
28
Max
My shirt sticks to my back and the heat is oppressive on my skin, making it difficult to breathe.
I have no idea how long I’ve sat here on this bench in the town’s gazebo. Fifteen minutes, an hour?
