Chapter 2 #2
Max knew the likelihood of this woman also being gay was slim to none—Wellington Point wasn’t exactly a bustling queer hotspot—but still, she couldn’t help her natural captivation. She had always had a thing for blondes.
In her distracted state, Max bumped the empty can of tomato juice she had just set down, sending it tumbling over the edge of her work station.
“Crap,” she muttered, bending down to collect the can. At the same time, the woman knelt. Their heads collided with an unpleasant crack, followed by sharp inhales from each of them.
“Oh shoot, I’m so sorry,” Max apologized feverishly, clutching her forehead as her fingers wrapped around the runaway can.
“Are you okay? Let me get you some ice.” They stood.
Max, with her hand still pressed to her head, reached for the ice scoop but stopped at the sight of a smile stretching across the woman’s lips.
She was laughing now, rubbing at a spot above her left eyebrow.
“No need, I’m good, really. I should be the one asking you if you’re okay. My mother always said I was hard-headed.”
It took Max a moment to process her words as she fought through lingering dizziness.
“You good?” the woman asked, now looking at her with concern reflected in the most fascinating eyes Max had ever seen—deep ocean blue with golden bursts in the center, the sun making them sparkle in a surreal, almost enthralling way.
“Annie, you’re up!” a man called from the green, but the woman—Annie, apparently—didn’t move, gaze still fixed on her.
“Yeah. Y-yes. I’m f-fine,” Max stammered, attempting to collect herself. “Uh. Did I charge you yet?”
Annie still had that same concerned expression as she tilted her head to the side, causing her ponytail to swish back and forth, the sun picking up hints of strawberry strands. “Not yet. Are you sure you’re okay? You seem a little…uh…spacey.”
Um, okay, rude. Distracted, maybe, but spacey—never. “Yes. I promise,” Max reassured, diverting her gaze away from Annie and back to the tablet in front of her as she tapped the screen, ringing up the order. “Okay, total is going to be fifty-six dollars. Cash, card, or account?”
“Account, please. Under Dillinger.”
“Andrew senior or Andrew junior?” Max asked, unable to help but wonder about Annie’s relationship.
“We’re waiting, Annie!” the man called from the green again.
“One more minute,” Annie called, looking over her shoulder before turning back to face Max. “Senior, please.”
Max tapped the tablet’s screen once more. “Great, you are all set. Need a hand taking these drinks to your husband and friends?” she asked, holding back her smirk as she waited for a response.
Annie’s eyes went wide, a grimace spreading across her round cheeks. “Husband? Ew, no, try my dad.” She reached for two of the drinks while Max handled the remaining three, following Annie towards the group of men waiting for them.
Max had known it was unlikely that Annie was married to any of these men, but hey, now she knew for sure.
After the drinks had been passed around, Max made her way back to the cart, moving a little further up the pathway to the fourteenth hole, parking the cart far enough past the tee where she could still watch without being obvious.
And she did just that. Max pretended to be busy, checking the cart inventory as her gaze once again strayed to Annie.
Watching as she stepped up to the tee, driver in hand.
A gentle breeze picked up the hem of Annie’s skirt, causing it to dance ever so slightly against her bare thighs, but she didn’t seem bothered.
Instead, Annie bunched up the sleeves of her oversized white V-neck chunky sweater, her grip tightening around the shaft of the driver as she took her stance and lined herself up parallel to the tee, a determined look on her face.
A metallic ting followed the whoosh of the club as it cut through the air with the force of Annie’s swing, her body rotating through the drive in perfect form.
Annie held her stance as she watched the ball sail down the green and Max couldn’t conceal her smile as she turned the beverage cart back on, making her way down the course.
That evening, Max pushed her way through the seafoam green door of Spoon Me, the local frozen yogurt shop that had become a post-workout fixture for herself and Lynn.
The back wall of the shop featured a rotating selection of flavors situated in a self-service style.
In the four years that the shop had been open, Max had yet to see them repeat a flavor (outside of the obligatory plain and chocolate flavors to appease the less adventurous customers).
She and Lynn stood shoulder to shoulder, Lynn a bit shorter than Max, contemplating the flavor selections before them.
“What’s catching your interest?” Lynn asked.
Max reached out, her fingers wrapping around the hot pink waxy take-away containers next to the machines, grabbing one for herself and one for Lynn.
“The black sesame is interesting, but I don’t know if I’m totally feeling it,” she answered contemplatively.
“I can tell you that the French fry flavor is definitely not it.”
Lynn’s lips pressed together in an amused grin. “No, I can’t imagine that would be very good. I’m between strawberry-jalepeno and habanero hot chocolate.”
“Feeling spicy, are we?” Max wiggled her eyebrows, nudging Lynn playfully.
“Exceptionally,” Lynn deadpanned, gray eyes catching her gaze.
On paper, their friendship made absolutely zero sense. Lynn was old enough to be her mother, a near-constant running joke between them.
Their paths had crossed a few years ago when they had each ended up in the same aerobic studio room at the local gym, hoping to find a quiet place to do their respective workouts.
Max had fully intended to stick to her area with her noise-canceling headphones on, saying nothing at all, but after fifteen minutes of sneaking glances in the mirror at Lynn, she had to say something.
Max couldn’t sit and watch her do exercise after exercise incorrectly any longer and risk hurting herself.
Looking back, Max should have minded her own business, but she had never been great at that.
The next time they ran into each other, Lynn made a point to show her that she had indeed taken Max’s unsolicited advice, and as a thank you, asked if Max wanted to grab frozen yogurt—her treat.
Max had no idea why she had said yes, but she did, and now here they were and, as weird as it was to say, best friends.
“I’m thinking avocado,” Max finally decided.
“Really?”
“Yes, really. A little pistachio crumbles, some strawberries. Sounds perfect.” She smirked, hand wrapping around the brightly colored knob of the self-serve lever, positioning her cup beneath.
Out of the corner of her eye, Max watched Lynn battle her indecision—like she did every time they came to Spoon Me. Lynn started out considering the more adventurous flavors, but it always ended the same.
Plain, Max called in her head, and sure enough, a moment later, Lynn approached the machine containing the standard plain frozen yogurt.
“Thought you were feeling spicy?” Max asked, releasing the handle and stopping the flow of green, creamy dessert.
“Maybe another time,” Lynn said off-handedly—her typical answer.
That was the thing about Lynn. Even after all these years, Max felt like there were parts of her she still didn’t really know, which was odd to her considering they had spent the last two Christmases together when Max didn’t have it in her to make the trip back home to Maryland to visit her dad.
Max and Lynn each finished off their frozen yogurts with their desired toppings—pistachio crumbles and strawberries for Max, mixed fruit for Lynn. Max fumbled for a moment at the register, digging in her pockets for her wallet before Lynn beat her to it.
“This one’s on me,” she said quietly, handing her card to the teenage boy working the register.
“No, I’m good, you don’t have to,” Max said quickly. She had always quietly been uncomfortable with gestures like that. She had her own money, and she could pay for her own things.
Lynn didn’t say anything as she landed a look that said, Don’t argue with me, which made Max grin as she collected a napkin and spoon for each of them. She followed Lynn outside and across the street to the park that bordered the inlet leading to the center of town.
The sun was beginning to set as they strolled along the paved pathway running parallel to the waterway. A family of ducks cut across the water, scattering refracted versions of pink hues across the surface.
“How was your shift today?” Lynn asked, taking a bite of her frozen yogurt.