Dolly (Part three-Max Mitchell series)

TWELVE

"I don't think we're going to be able to leave on Sunday." I grumbled to Wendy. She and I were sitting out on the front porch of my parent's house in the late morning sun, just after Tab and I returned from obtaining "my" new farm.
"What are you going to do?" She was sitting next to me, legs drawn up to her chest.
"That's the ultimate question right now, isn't it?" I said, with a little snark.
"Well, are you going to keep it? You're not exactly the farming type."
"I just don't know. What in the hell am I going to do with one hundred-plus acres of farm land?"
"Sell it to me, Dolly." my dad said, as he made an appearance on the porch, balancing three mugs of coffee.
"You're going to end up monopolizing the farming community of Alliance, Dad."
"Bollocks! There's thousands upon thousands more to be had out there." He waved a hand, dismissively.
"You should probably call your lawyer, Max." Wendy said. She sounded rather bossy, or maybe I just misread her, but it made me feel a bit bristly.
"I know. I'll call him on Monday. He's usually out of office on Fridays."
"When are we going back to New York anyway?"
"Once all of this shit settles..." I could feel my pot starting to boil.
"Well, we're going to have to push off some recording...I'll have to move your whole schedule out two more weeks."
I had just started easing back into work and now I was going to have to push it out further.
Annoying.
At least I could still write and lay tracks remotely.
"Yeah. Just do whatever you have to do, Wendy." "Hopefully the artists understand." She added.
Hopefully.
That stupid, familiar panic began to rise inside of me and I wasn't sure if I could control it on that particular day. Of course, my dad had to pick that moment to ask the question.
"How's Tom, Dolly?" He asked, innocently enough, but it was just enough to set me off. Wendy shot him a wide eyed look, like she was scared for his life.
"If he would talk to me, I would know, Dad." I snarled and stormed off of the porch, got into my car and sped off.
"God damn it." I cursed, to myself, as I drove down I-87 well over the speed limit, letting my hair whip and swirl around my head. After a few miles, I pulled over, put it in park, hung my head and let the frustrated tears roll. Sometimes life just piled too much up, and I felt like I couldn't handle it. That was one of those moments. I knew I'd just been a total bitch to Wendy, and to my Dad. They meant well, but I took it the wrong way. I felt like I wasn't as strong when Tom wasn't there to support me...him being angry or whatever he was, was affecting me.

I turned the car around, to go back and apologize to the two poor souls I'd just reamed on the front porch. When I got back, after pulling into the shed, they were just where I'd left them, having coffee together on the rocking chairs, as if nothing had happened. They were still alive and well, so I guess I hadn't completely slain them. Like a dog with her tail between her legs, I approached, cautiously.

"I'm sorry." I dropped my hands to my sides. "I'm just really overwhelmed right now."
"It's ok, Dolly. We forgive you." My Dad, the jovial British farmer said, then patted the rocking chair next to him. "Come finish your coffee."
Now you know where my nature of acceptance comes from. Fussy like my Mother and kind like my Father.

***

The sun was starting to hang heavy in the sky, and the late afternoon warmth washed over me as I plodded down the road, kicking rocks and making a cloud of dust in my wake. I was trying to keep busy and wear off some stress by going for a walk. I still hadn't heard from Tom, and I was beginning to wonder if he was a lost cause. The very thought of that made my guts twist up, even more than they already were.

About two or three miles down from my parent's farm sat the acclaimed "Carhenge", a tourist trap that drew road tripping families from miles around. Just for kicks, I detoured to visit the old relic for the millionth time in my life. It was exactly the same as I remembered...the skeletons of classic cars, stacked and posed to look like Stonehenge. I'd seen the original too, and as far as mimics go, it was pretty decent. As a child, my favorite place to sit was under the shadow of a giant Cadillac, with no tires, that was spray painted bubble gum pink. It stood on its nose, sticking straight out of the ground. I sat down, cross legged and pressed my back to the undercarriage of the big, pink car and closed my eyes...trying desperately to find some peace. When peace didn't come, I called the next best thing...Stef. I had no idea where she was or if she'd even answer. I just hoped she would.

She picked up after the first ring, and there was quite a ruckus in the background.
"Max! Oh my god, Max! Hang on a sec!"

"Dude! Shut up! I have to take this!"

After a moment, there was quiet on the line.
"Nebraska. How are you?"
"Well, I'm literally in Nebraska right now."
She gasped.
"Lay it on me Max. I can tell you're upset."
Her voice got very serious.

I proceeded to verbally vomit on her through the phone about every detail from the couple weeks prior. I told her about Paul, about the lawyer, the farm, the life insurance and lastly about how Tom flipped shit when I told him I had to go to Nebraska.

"I'm so overwhelmed that I went bitch-mode on my Dad and Wendy earlier because I didn't like the way they were asking me questions."
That made her and me both erupt into laughter.
"Oh, Max. Everything is going to be ok. I'm sure Tom will come around. That man is silly over you."
"I hope so. I just feel like I'm so much stronger when he's around. The stressed out, fussy, freak version of me just goes away."
"I know it does. Just wait it out...and as for the farm and all the acreage you've just acquired...get rid of it. Sell it to someone who actually wants it and then get the hell out of there."
"My Dad wants the land."
"So let him buy it, and sell the house too."
"You're right. There's no reason for me to hang onto it."
"Exactly. Close that book Max. Put the money from the sale into your business, or pay me for the therapy I provide you."
"Oh, you're hilarious!"
"I know I am. Now go blow off some steam for the weekend and call your lawyer on Monday."
"I love you Stef."
"I love you too."
"Where are you, anyway?"
"Norway, but I'll be at Madison Square garden in no time, babe."
"Bye Stef."

"You know, this place is a pretty close second to the real thing."
I sucked in a sharp breath...I'd know that voice anywhere. He crouched down in front of me, and took my hands
"Tom--" my eyes immediately welled up.
"Before you say anything, I want to say I'm sorry."
"You are?"
"I so am. I should have been far more understanding, but all I could think of was what that evil bastard did to you."
I nodded, with tears rolling down my cheeks.
"I kept seeing flashbacks of the aftermath in your home, and it's beyond...its beyond upsetting. The very thought of you having to deal with anything related to him...it made me scared and very angry."
I understood then, that it wasn't about me. It was about him, and his own fears.
"You're right. I just didn't think I had a choice."
"You probably didn't. You did the right thing, coming here."

Weight lifted. Knotted stomach, gone.

"Oh, Sugar. I feel so relieved right now."
"I get really tangled up in my emotions sometimes, and I just flip my lid. I'm sorry, Max."
"You know I understand that, and I forgive you."