The Weight of Gravity (14 page)

“I didn’t mean to wake up when I did … when you were …”

“Good
god, Max.  Do you think I care if you see me naked? Where in hell did you cultivate so many hang-ups?  Are there a lot of people in the city as tight assed as you?”  She walked past the bed, casually holding her clothes to her chest, and into the bathroom.

“I don’t know.”  Max leaned over the end of the bed, forced both eyes open, and looked into the bathroom.  She was standing in front of a full-length mirror, pulling up her jeans. 
Shit, she doesn’t wear underwear either.

“Thanks, Max.  Nice to know you took a second look.  Makes a girl feel special, you know?”  Mel glanced over her shoulder and smiled – or was it the infamous smirk? 

Max pulled himself back onto the bed.  She was playing with his mind ... again.  “Not fair.  You have me at a disadvantage.”

“Give me a break,” she called from the bathroom.

“No, really.  I’m in a weakened state ... mentally and physically.”

Mel walked back into the room.  To his disappointment she was fully dressed.  “Here’s the plan, Metro Man.  I’m going downstairs to get some breakfast.  Why don’t you take a shower ... towels in the cabinet beneath the sink ... and come down when you’re dressed.”

“Dressed?  You mean you’re the only one who gets to walk around nude?” Max pulled himself up on his elbows.  The blood rushed up behind his eyes and he thought his head would split.  He laid back and put his palm against his forehead.

“Funny man.  Eggs, bacon, toast and coffee do it for you?”  She walked out of the room.

             
The water felt delicious and the pounding in his temples began to subside.  He toweled, dressed and went downstairs.

             
“Hope you don’t mind.  I used one of your razors,” he said, walking into the kitchen.

             
A distinguished looking, older woman stood at the kitchen island, cutting melon wedges.  “I don’t mind at all, Mr. Rosen,” she said, turning around to look at him.

             
“I thought you were Mel.”
              “Yeah, that happens all the time.  We’re twins, you know?”  She threw him a familiar smirkish smile.

             
“You must be her grandmother.  She inherited your
cute
sense of humor.  She likes pulling my chain, too,” he said.

             
She handed Max a glass of orange juice.  “Have a seat, Max.  Mel went down to the stables for a minute.  We have a mare about to drop and she wanted to visit with the vet.”

             
“Mel told you who I am.”

             
“She said you like to stare at her bare ass,” she said.   “I’m Dorothy.”

A few moments later
Mel walked in, poured coffee and leaned against the island counter.  Dorothy had Max seated and working through a plate of eggs and ham.  He was feeling much better.

“See you met Grandma Dot,” she said, then gave her grandmother a hug.  “Eat up, Writer Man.  It’s time to take you home.”

Max thanked Dorothy for breakfast and followed Mel out the back door to the mega-truck.  He caught himself staring at her tight jeans before she climbed into the cab.

“Your family has been in the construction business in Cottonwood for a long time,” he said, wh
en Mel turned onto the highway headed for Danley Ranch.

“Three generations.”

“Business good?” he asked.

“Lately it’s been very good.  There’s a fair amount of new building going on.  Why do you ask?’

“I’m just curious.  I’ve noticed the housing developments, mostly billboards and land that looks like every stick of vegetation has been plowed under.  It’s pretty ugly.”

“I see what you’re going after, Max.  That’s not my family.”

“But your family business is part of this boom?”

“My family wouldn’t cheat people off their land, and then burn everything two inches or higher into the sand.  We’re building new homes, sure, but we also take care to protect the environment.  We’ve never foreclosed on someone’s property, either.  Kristoffersen Contractors is getting business because the locals know we’re not going to engage is shady practices.  Give my family due credit for being sensitive to the people and the land.”

She abruptly turned the truck off the highway and accelerated toward Doris’ property.

“I didn’t mean to hit a nerve.”

“You did.”  The rear end skidded when the wheels hit gravel.  “You could help, you know.”

“How?”

“You’re a writer.  Write some articles for the local press.  Expose these monsters for what they’re doing around here.”  The truck fishtailed in the loose gravel as if to punctuate her words.

“Seems to me everyone already knows about the problem, but no one’s willing to step up and fight them.”

“We’ve tried, Max, but they have the law on their side.”

“They also have the best local attorney, I understand.”

“Yeah, there’s that.”

Time to change the subject.  She’s not the enemy.
  “Listen.  Thanks for everything, Mel.  I hope I wasn’t too much of a burden last night.”

“Look, Max.  I wouldn’t have done what I did last night if I didn’t think you needed help.  I’m a sucker for fall-down drunks who like to stare at my ass.” She smiled.

“Doris could have come and gotten me.”

“Doris saw us leave together.  She knew you were with me,” Mel told him.  “I thought you needed perspective ... maybe a little distance ... from this.”  She g
estured toward the Danley Ranch a half-mile away, but Max knew she meant a much larger picture.  “Sometimes the best way to see something clearly is to stop looking directly at it.”

“Waking up in your bed was a new perspective.”

There was a dark Chrysler parked in front of Doris’ house when they arrived.  Mel pulled up next to it and gave Max an I-don’t-have-any-idea look before they saw three men in suits walking down the front steps.  Doris followed them, waving her hands in the air as if she were swatting at flies.

Max and Mel got out of the truck and started up the walk as the
dark suits approached.

“Company, Doris?” Max asked over their shoulders.

“Scum turds is more like it,” she called back.  “Even worse, local scum turds.”

“Hello, Max.”

The face with the voice looked familiar, but it took a moment for Max to remember.  “Hello, Garner.  Nice of you to come out and personally welcome me home.”

“This isn’t your home, Max,” he said, looking over his shoulder at the house, then back again.  “But it might take your money,” he put his finger on Max’s chest, “to save it.”

“Get your hand off me and your sorry asses off this property,” Max said, leaning into Garner.

Garner followed the other attorneys to the Chrysler.  He opened the rear door to get in, but looked back at Max, standing with Doris and Mel.  “Go find yourself somewhere else.  You don’t belong in Cottonwood anymore.  You’ve been gone too long.  Things have changed around here and you’re not part of it, so don’t get involved.”  Garner got into the car, but said loud enough for all to hear, “How’s your latest bestseller, you schlock writer?”  The Chrysler backed away and then fished-tailed in a flurry of flying sand
and gravel as it sped to the end of the drive.

“Time we talked,” Max said, turning to Doris.

“What was Garner talking about, finding yourself?” she asked.

“He’s been talking to his wife.”

“I have to go, you two,” Melody said, walking toward her truck.  “Say, Max,” she called back over her shoulder, “I’m driving out to Winberg Wells this afternoon.  If you want to see what managed-growth in the construction business looks like, you can ride along?  Kristoffersen Contractors is doing a speculative proposal for a housing project out that way.  I want to check on the progress of the survey crew.”  She climbed into the cab.  “You can do research for your newspaper article.”

“Article?” Doris asked.

“We’ll talk about that, too.”

Chapter 19 - Erika

              “Erika!”  It was Darrell.  He’d followed her down into the basement parking lot.  “Hold up, Sweetheart,” he called, but Erika kept walking.

             
Breep.
  She unlocked her car and was reaching for the door when he caught up to her.

             
“Hey, Sweet-thang, what’s the rush?”

             
“Gotta go, Darrell.  Jay’s waiting.”

             
“No, he’s not.  You’re heading to the cleaners, then the photographers,” he said, grabbing her shoulders.

             
“You were eavesdropping on my conversation with Garner?”

             
“Thin doors, Baby.”

             
“This is not the place,” she said, pulling out of his grasp.

             
“Okay, where … when?”

             
“I told you.  That’s over,” she said, turning to open her car door.

             
Darrell leaned his fist against the frame, blocking her from getting in.  “You and I both know you didn’t mean it, Sweet Cakes.”

             
She faced him again.  Darrell leaned in to kiss her, but she pushed him away.  “I said, it’s over, Darrell.  Put it back in your pants and get away from me.”

             
“You can’t end it like this.”

             
“I ended it days ago.  You weren’t listening.”

             
“How would you like me to have a heart-to-heart with ole Garner?”

             
“Nice try.  You’d be cutting your professional throat. Garner’s connected on the state licensing board.  You’d have a hard time finding another firm to take you in.”

             
“So, why are you breaking up with me?” He wined like a small child after a scolding.

             
“I never should have allowed it to happen in the first place ... for all the obvious reasons.”

             
“Come on, Sweets,” he pleaded, taking her in his arms.

             
“Back off, Darrell, or I’ll march back upstairs and confess to Max!”

             
“Max?  Who’s Max?”  He released her and stepped back.  “Hey, wait a minute.  You mean Max Rosen, that writer guy.  I heard something around the office about you two.  He was your first heart-throb, or something.  That’s what this is about.”  His voice began to rise.  “You got the hots for Max Rosen, your old boyfriend.” 

             
“Keep your voice down.  You’re echoing all over down here.”

             
“No!  You’re dumping me so you can get it on with Max Rosen!  This isn’t about your husband or your family, this is about some hotshot, rich writer asshole who tweaked your clit a thousand years ago and you never got over it!  Yeah, that’s it!”

             
“Shut up, Darrell!”

             
“Nah.  Maybe ole Garner needs to know what you’re thinking about doing.”

             
“Garner already knows that Max Rosen and I talked.”

             
“Maybe, but ole Garner doesn’t know what else you’re thinking about doing with this butt-wipe novelist”

             
“What are you talking about?”

             
“Nah, it figures.  You just pulled what’s called a ‘Freudian slip.’  You subconsciously put Mr. Max Rosen in Garner’s place.  And ... and ...,” she saw his hands begin to shake, “you need it, you need it bad ... we both know that!  Right?  You can’t give it up that easy with me unless you have plans to get it on with someone else.  We both know Garner doesn’t do it for you.  You plan on fucking Max Rosen!  Yeah, now I understand.  A hot slut like you has gotta have it someway.”

             
Erika hit him hard across the face.  Darrell seemed stunned for a moment and took a step backward.  His expression was a combination of shock and anger.  Erika got into her car, but Darrell held the door open.

             
“Let go, Darrell.  I have to go!”

             
“I should have known,” he said through clenched teeth.  “You’ll regret this, Sweetheart!  Just wait!  You’ll see!”

             
She slammed the door.  The tires squealed as she drove up the ramp and out of the garage.  Darrell stood defiant in the rearview until she turned at street level.