Dolly (Part three-Max Mitchell series)

FOURTEEN

"Maxine Delilah! What happened to you?" My mother shrieked, looking at my bloodied nose and lip.
"Brittany Hess. That's what happened." I said, as I kicked my dirty boots off and left them on the porch.
"You need a stitch or two there, you know?" she had already produced her first aid kit, and was motioning for me to come to the kitchen. One of the perks of having a doctor for a mother, less ER trips.
"Fine. Can I go change first?"
She nodded and I bounded up to my bedroom, with Tom following close behind.
"Dolly, are you alright? I've never seen anything like that before."
"You have too, you've seen me fight with Tina at the theater." I said, as I pulled off the t-shirt I'd worn, which had been spattered with blood. To the garbage it went. Pity too, it was one of my favorites.
"Yeah. But this was for real...it was kind of sexy, if I'm honest." he put his hands on my hips, and pulled me close to him. My adrenaline was pumping, and I was having a hard time not shoving him back onto the bed and having my way with him.
"Between this and my gunshot wound, I'm starting to look like quite a bad ass, don't you think?" I asked, as I puckered up my bloodied lips.
"Normally I'd happily give you a kiss, but I think I'll wait till you get all stitched up." He settled for giving me a peck on the cheek.

"MAX!" My mother yelped from downstairs.
I broke away from the moment we were having and pulled on a tank top, then went downstairs.

***

Tom, Wendy and my sister sat like birds on a perch watching as I laid on the kitchen table, getting my face stitched up.
"Did you see the way Max punched her, then knocked her onto her stupid fucking ass??" My sister emoted drunkenly, between swigs from her beer.
"Tab, language!"
"Yeah, and how she pinned her down by the neck, and looked like she was about to pummel her?" Tom joined right in on the rehashing of my fight scene.
"Could someone get me a drink?" I thought a little bit of whiskey might take the place of any painkillers that I certainly didn't have on hand.
"Sure thing, boss." Wendy said, as she slid off of the chair she'd been occupying. She poured a hefty shot's worth of Bushmills into a coffee mug and put it into my waiting hand.
"Wait! You can't sip that! It'll kill you!" Tom shouted, sounding overly concerned. He bounded to the liquor cabinet to retrieve a tiny stir straw, and triumphantly placed it in the mug, as if he'd just solved all the world's problems.
"Thanks, sugar." I said, as I sat up and hopped off of the table. A quick peek in the mirror told me I'd gotten quite a slice on the left side of my upper lip. My mother had put me back together with three neat little stitches.
"Nicely done, Mom." she nodded, looking very proud.
"Can I go back to bed now?" She asked.
"Of course, mother dearest." I pulled her into a tight squeeze, and with that, the three drunk birds from the perch flocked over to join.
"Group hug!" Tom shouted, and made my mom laugh so hard I thought she'd split in two.

"I think it's bedtime for everyone, right?"
One look at my three inebriated companions and it was plain to see. The morning would surely be a rough one for them.

I followed Tom up the stairs, mostly to make sure he wouldn't take a tumble down. The last thing we needed was another injured houseguest. Tom peeled off his jeans and tshirt and belly flopped onto the bed.
"I'm going to go take a shower, ok?"
"I'll be right here, waiting for you, my love." He smirked at me, pie-eyed and adorable as ever.

When I'd gotten back from the shower, my bedmate was fast asleep and sprawled out, taking up a rather large portion of the mattress with his tall frame. I pulled the covers out from under him, and he didn't even budge. Somehow, I was able to maneuver his long limbs out of the way so I'd have space enough to get some rest myself.
"Goodnight sweet Sugar. I love you." I whispered in his ear, and kissed his cheek.

***

"Where's Tom?" I asked my Mom, as I sat down to breakfast and coffee the next morning. Wendy and Tab were still sleeping off their partying from the night before.
"He went out in the field with your Dad. Who knows where they've ended up."
I took a sip of my coffee, and you'd have thought I got punched in the face all over again.
"Shit!" I screamed and my mug shattered in a million pieces on the floor. Hot coffee and fresh stitches in the lip definitely do not mix. I scrambled to pick up the shrapnel and my mother chose that moment to smack talk.
"Maybe some iced coffee would be better for that fat lip, huh?"
"Yeah, mom. I'll just go right out to the Starbucks two corn fields over."
"Smart ass child." Laughing hysterically, she threw her biscuit at me.
"Mom. Language."
"What are you going to do today, Maxine?"
"I was going to give Tom a little ride around town, show him the sights."
"He's really wonderful, Dolly. We're all so pleased you've found each other."
"Thanks, Mom. He is something else, isn't he?"

I put my dishes in the sink to wash them, and spotted the two Brits standing together in the field, just about one hundred yards from the house. I pondered for a split second what it would be like if our careers didn't demand access to us constantly. What would it be like to live together forever on our own little farm in the middle of nowhere? I shook the thought away quickly, though because there's no way I could ever give up New York and I didn't think he'd ever give up acting to be a farmer. But living together forever? That's an idea I wanted to keep with me awhile longer.

I pulled on a pair of my most favorite, ripped up blue jeans and a plain, white tank top. Upon further examination in the bathroom mirror, I noticed that my lip was a bit swollen and very sore. I pulled up the hem of my top, and took a look at the marks on my stomach that were still bright pink, even after weeks of healing. I ran my fingertips over the scar, an upside down T shaped mark, just under my bra line. The memory of that night attempted to creep into my thoughts but I mentally swiped it away. There was no reason to dwell on something that couldn't be changed, scary as it was.

I carefully washed my face and tied my slept in hair up into a messy pile on top of my head. The nice thing about visiting my home was that I had to put forth zero effort in the dressing up department. Messy hair, and ripped up jeans were perfectly acceptable.

Quiet as a mouse, Tom had come upstairs and was suddenly right there, just outside of the bathroom.
"Good morning, Dolly. How are you feeling today?" He asked, and snuck in a quick peck on my cheek.
"Not too bad. I came back from the shower to ravage you last night, but you were out cold." I laughed, and hugged him, laying my head on his chest.
"Your dad gave me a little lesson in farming. There's so much more to it than folks realize."
"Agreed. Want to go for a drive today?"
"I'd love to. Should we wake up the party girls?"
"Nah. Let them sleep."

I grabbed the keys off of the peg and stepped outside with Tom in tow. He went to the truck, and looked confused when I walked on past it.
"Come on." I gestured for him to follow me, and headed to the shed. "Ready to meet my baby?"
"Your baby, huh?"

I pulled open the shed and Tom stepped in behind me.
"What's under there?"
"That's my baby." I said, as I proudly pulled the cover off of my very own '62 Jaguar MKII. Tom's jaw literally dropped. Without a word, he circled the car and took in every little detail before he finally spoke.
"This car is identical to mine, Dolly." He marveled.
"I know." I said with a smirk.
"You never told me about it! Why?"
"I didn't want to brag, considering this one's probably faster than yours...now get in, Sugar."