Page 47 of WASP

“Sixty-one years in May,” she said, a sadness to her words, one Max was positive the others wouldn’t pick up on because they didn’t know Lynn as well as she did.

“Technically, Drew and I left Wellington Point,” Jack pointed out, nibbling on the cookie he had picked up.

“Moving thirty-five miles away while each of you is still working for your parents probably doesn’t count,” Dani countered, taking a bite. “Lynn, I don’t know what the fuck you put in your cookies, but these are amazing.” Lynn grinned at the compliment.

“You have no room to talk, Miss I’m-taking-over-the-family-dental-business,” Drew teased, which earned him a pillow tossed in his direction.

Max set her empty glass down on the edge of the fire pit, got to her feet, and let the blanket fall beside her as she stretched. “Anyone else need a refill?”

Everyone held out their empty glasses. As Max collected them, Drew got to his feet to help. Inside it was just the two of them in the small galley kitchen.

“I hope I wasn’t prying too much, you know, about the family stuff,” Max said quietly, recognizing that sometimes her tendency to ask a lot of questions might feel invasive to others.

Drew shrugged, a grin spreading across his stubbled cheeks. “All good. I know my family can be…off-putting.”

“They’re not that bad.”

“You’re right. And that’s what makes it that much more challenging. My parents are good people, but they’ve always struggled to make space in their lives for things that make them uncomfortable or challenge them to think beyond the very small box they’ve built their belief systems in.” He reached for the two glasses, turning to head back out to the fire, then pausing. “Hey Max, do me a favor. Don’t go too hard on Annie for how she acts around my family. This place has always been hard on her, but she’s one of the strongest people I know.”

Max leaned back against the counter, taking a long sip from the bottle of cabernet franc they had been working through, then dumping the remainder into her glass. Tonight had given her more to think about than she had expected.

That evening, after she had driven herself and Lynn back home, Max curled up on the couch with a stack of mail and other documents about the trust her grandparents had left her. Finally giving in to the fact that it was time to stop ignoring things she didn’t want to deal with. She was determined to start making progress on figuring out what to do.

She started sorting everything into piles as she read through each piece of paper. The first pile was for documents about the trust. The second for financial paperwork, then letters from interested land developers, and finally letters from the other local vineyard owners in the area. Max decided to tackle the trust documentation first and was halfway through the second letter, trying to decipher the legal jargon, when her phone rang, Annie’s name on the screen.

Max shot up, sending the stack of papers on her lap flying as she shoved her laptop to the side, frantically answering the call. “Annie, hey, wh-what’s up?” She cringed at the way her voice sounded a bit too eager, but this was Annie, and Max was excited to hear from her.

“Hey, sorry for the late call. I didn’t wake you up, did I? I had a feeling you might be a bit of a night owl and there was a decent chance I’d catch you. I really hope I didn’t wake you.”

Max glanced at the time on her laptop; it was a little after eleven. Not too late, but she understood Annie’s concern. “Nope, I’m up. Just working on some—um, stuff.”

“Oh, I’m interrupting,” Annie said apologetically. “You know what, I’m sorry. Want to grab coffee or breakfast or something tomorrow morning at a more reasonable hour?”

Something was off. Annie’s voice was different, lacking the usual playfulness Max had come to know and listen for.

“You okay?” A long pause followed her question. “Annie?” she asked softly, wanting to make sure the call hadn’t dropped.

Annie sniffled, her voice cracking. “Been better,” she joked weakly.

A tug ripped through Max’s chest at the sound of the sadness in Annie’s words. She wanted to fix it immediately. “Wanna come over? I think I’ve got some ice cream in the freezer we can work through. We can talk or not talk or whatever you need,” she offered, hoping Annie could hear the sincerity in her voice.

Annie sighed. “I was hoping you’d ask. I’m already outside.”

Max stilled. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, I was on my way home from my friend Leah’s… I’ll explain. Be up in a sec.”

The call ended. Max’s gaze flicked around the room in a panicked flash as her hands hurriedly attempted to collect the papers in some semblance of an ordered way, setting them precariously on the coffee table. She hurried down the hall and through the tiny kitchen into her bedroom, slipping out of the sweatshirt she’d been putting off washing for days and picking out a clean one that still carried that fresh linen scent.

There was a knock at the door. And Max couldn’t help but be impressed by Annie’s speed up all the steps. She hurried into the kitchen, stopping for a minute to assess her appearance in the mirror. She mussed her hair before pulling open the door, revealing Annie on the other side, bathed in the glow of the porch light above them.

“I’m probably going to cry. So let’s get that out of the way,” Annie said, stepping over the threshold and into the tiny receiving area, the proximity of their bodies instantly exciting Max. “Thanks for wanting to chat.”

Annie’s eyes shone with tears ready to fall, Max fully intending to catch each and every one of them. She paused for a moment, the idea of wrapping Annie in a hug flashing through her mind, but she found herself hesitating, given that Annie had asked for more time.

“Anytime,” she said softly, leading Annie into the kitchen. “Wanna grab two spoons from the drawer in the island and I’ll grab the ice cream?”

Max turned to the freezer, rummaging around, producing a pint of Baked and Blasted ice cream. “Hope this is okay.” She held the pint out to Annie. Judging by the smile, the flavor was to her liking.