Page 23 of WASP

Max shot Lynn an incredulous look, laughing. “Damn right I do,” she agreed, moving away from the mirror to begin their next set of exercises.

After the gym and the mandatory frozen yogurt stop Max insisted on even at ten thirty in the morning, they arrived back at the house, each peeling off to their respective spaces to shower and change. Then Max was once again in Lynn’s company, set up at her dining room table with a brand new paint-by-numbers set. Lynn sat opposite her, her latest miniature project set up in front of her—a little bakery scene she had been working on assembling.

Max loved their Saturday morning routine. And barring the occasional exception where she was forced to pick up a shift here and there, Max always prioritized Saturday mornings for Lynn.

“How’s the bakery coming along?” she asked as she worked the tiny plastic paint pots free from the box her kit had come with, setting each material on the table in front of her.

“Good. Everything’s painted and now it’s about assembling.” Lynn glanced at her over the rim of her glasses. “Can you pass me those tweezers please?”

Max reached for the tool sitting to her left, handing it off to Lynn before settling into her own project. They worked in a cozy quiet; every so often, one of them would get up to change the record playing on the old Victrola in the connected parlor. About an hour into their work, Lynn got to her feet.

“Time for tea and a stretch. Do you want a cup?” she asked, gently squeezing Max’s shoulder as she passed.

“If it’s your special lavender blend, absolutely,” Max said, not taking her eyes off her painting as she moved the blue paint-dipped bristles across their corresponding numbered blob.

Lynn rolled out a light purple yoga mat in the kitchen, stretching her hips and shoulders as she waited for the kettle to boil, and after a few minutes, a high-pitched whistle filled the bottom floor of the house. Max wiped her brush clean as she squinted at the board in front of her, trying to decipher the blobs as she searched for the little 1E, her next color.

“Is this a three or the letter e?” she asked Lynn when she set her mug of tea on a coaster beside her. Lynn leaned over, studying the board as Max inhaled the comforting scent of clean linen.

“It’s an e. When was your last eye exam? I keep telling you you need to get them checked.”

Max nudged Lynn, gently pushing her away. “Shut up, my eyes are fine. There’s always been something about threes and Es that fucks with my brain.”

It wasn’t until Lynn slid onto her chair again that Max noticed a stack of papers in her hand.

“I think we need to talk about this.” Lynn’s voice was soft and apologetic as she slid the packet across the table toward her. Max reached for it, scanning the contents, her stomach dropping with realization.

Her body straightened as her natural inclination to defend herself began to creep in. “Oh, uh, why do you have this?”

“I didn’t mean to open it,” Lynn said. “The letter must have gotten mixed in with my mail, and I didn’t notice it wasn’t meant for me until I started reading it. But Max, I need to ask, are you in some kind of financial trouble? Do you need help?”

Max took a deep breath, wrestling with how much she should tell Lynn. But this was Lynn—her best friend. Lynn, who in the time Max had known her had only ever acted from the most well-intentioned places. Lynn, who always wanted to be helpful. So why was she having such a hard time opening up to her?

“Yes and no,” she answered, trying to figure out a way to succinctly explain that the issue at hand was under control…sort of. “It’s not like imminent danger or anything. There’s just an annoying problem I need to figure out what to do with.”

Lynn gave her a skeptical look, clearly not buying her reasoning.

“It’s nothing major,” Max continued, keeping her tone light. “I found out a few years ago that my grandparents left me some land. There’s a trust that manages it, but it’s set to dissolve soon and now I need to figure out what my options are and what the plan is.”

Max didn’t want to get into the weeds of this. Not today, not when they were having such a relaxing day—a rarity for her. The thought of talking about how her grandparents, whom she barely had any memory of, dropped this problem in her lap without warning was enough to sour her mood instantly.

Lynn gave her a long, assessing look, one that held her care and worry. “You don’t owe anyone money, correct?”

“No money is presently owed. Like I said, there’s a trust that manages everything, but depending on what I decide to do with the land, it has the high potential to become a money pit or a money maker,” she added, trying to lighten the conversation.

Lynn picked up the small metal tweezers, her gaze returning to her miniature bakery scene coming together. “I know you’re someone who likes to keep everything close to you, but remember you have people you can lean on when things get big and scary.”

Max smiled softly, touched by Lynn’s care for her. She picked up her own brush and returned to her painting. “If they ever get too big or scary, you’ll be the first to know. I promise.”

They worked in a quiet rhythm. The old Earth, Wind & Fire record they had been listening to had long since reached the end, but in the midst of their conversation neither had taken the time to flip it to the next side. Max shifted uncomfortably in her chair, bringing one leg up to tuck under her before promptly deciding that the position was uncomfortable. She knew this would happen. This is exactly why she hated talking about her problems; now that they were out there, now that someone else knew, she couldn’t settle. Couldn’t sit still with the weight of it.

She popped to her feet, moving towards the little stand in the parlor that housed the record player. Lynn’s home was filled with all kinds of cool things. From photos of Lynn and her late husband, Dan, all over the world to trinkets and treasures collected through a lifetime of experience. Each with a story of how it came to be there. Max approached the long, low cabinet along the far wall that housed Lynn’s extremely specific audio setup.

She set the needle in place, the accompanying scratchy sound tickling her brain in the absolute best way, when her phone buzzed in her pocket with a new text.

Jack 1:28 PM

Sup nerd. Drew and I decided to do a bonfire night tonight. Dani’s coming. You and Lynn should come too. We’re getting started around seven. If you do show up, it’s bring-your-own-snacks. Love you.