Finding X

Chapter One

            I was deep in thought during breakfast, and I must’ve been very obvious about it because when Mom passed me, she bent down close, searched my face and then waved a hand before my eyes.

            “Wow,” she said. “Must’ve been some book you read.”

            I blinked out of my daze. “Book? No. That can’t help me.” I absently stirred my soggy cereal.

            Mom cocked her head at me, soft blond hair falling out of her pony-tail. “Stacey, are you alright?”

            Before answering, I looked around for any sign of Connie. Taking advantage of her absence, I hissed, “I can’t stand this. Connie is acting like a spoiled kid, pouting because she can’t get what she wants.”

            Mom tsked me. “Stacey, don’t talk that way.”

            “You know it’s true. I wish there were some way to snap her and Max out of this.”

            Now she looked suspicious, her delicately plucked eyebrows rising in her trademark expression. “Stacey McAllister, don’t even think about butting into affairs that have nothing whatsoever to do with you.”

            “Perhaps they do,” I smiled slyly. “Perhaps the argument had everything to do with me. Perhaps it was me they were fighting about. Perhaps–”

            Mom rolled her eyes and whispered, “Perhaps you drop the subject before Connie walks in and hears you.”

            I shut my mouth but I couldn’t help feel like she knew more than she let on. I was an expert at interpreting inner-feelings. I’d done it countless times when Connie, dazed and smiling, would come floating home from a date with Max. Right now, as I watched Mom bustle around the kitchen, I could feel it in my bones that Mom knew what was going on.

            My brain was reeling. Mom told me not to butt in and she sounded very serious about it. What did she think I could do? Send a fake, darling-I-am-so-sorry letter to Max in Connie’s hand? Sit on Max’s front steps and start sobbing over this mess, over how much this simply breaks my heart? Or just take Dad’s rubber hammer from the shed and literally knock some sense into their thick heads?

            No, no, and . . . er, no. As much as it pained me to admit it.

           And so I decided on the easy, innocent, who-me sort of way. I’d call Max and ask him to patch it up himself. 

            I called his cell, not his house phone, because he was most likely working, using that huge truck of his to tow cars all around the area. He worked all the time, and I guess I couldn’t blame him because it wasn’t his fault cars decided to break down 24/7. But he often seemed to . . . enjoy working, which made it seem more like his fault.

            “Hey, Max,” I said, trying to sound lighthearted and affect him with my utterly cheerful mood, because most likely he was going to be miserable over Connie’s absence. But when he spoke, he sounded like this was just another ordinary day.

            “Hey, Stacey. What’s up?”

            “’What’s up’?” I repeated incredulously. “Max, your wife is here, or did you not know?”

            He snorted and sounded pretty peeved when he said, “I'm fully aware, Stace.” He paused before saying, “I’m sorry but I’ve really got to–”

            I interrupted. He sounded way too ready to get off the phone, but I wasn’t done talking to him. “Max, Valentine’s Day is tomorrow. You’ve got to apologize.” I spoke quickly for fear he might hang up. I spoke so quickly, in fact, that the sentence just burst out before I could think about it.

            Buggers, I thought. I said it too forcefully when I wanted to just wheedle my way into his confidence. Instead of doing that, I suddenly attacked him and now I’m sure he felt defensive. I could practically envision the huge brick wall ascending in front of him.

            “Apologize?” His voice, muffled over the line, sounded half incredulous and half amused. “Stacey, you are very smart but you shouldn’t start giving advice for things beyond your knowledge.”

            He did have a point there. I didn’t have any idea what the argument was about and I doubted anyone was going to tell me. “Max, please. If you can’t apologize outright, why don’t you do something else, like, buy her a Valentine’s Day present?”

            “Stacey!” He sounded shocked at my butting in. I was disappointed in him. After all those years of knowing this family, he should’ve expected as much from me.

            “Come on, Max!” I pleaded. “What will it hurt? Buy her a teeny tiny Valentine’s Day present, a card maybe, that’ll patch up your argument, sure as anything!”

            He was so silent on the other end before answering, I thought he had hung up. “Believe it or not, Stace, I already had something sent to Target about a week ago.”

            I felt a surge of affection for that big guy. “Max, you rock!”

            “Except that I’ve been so busy, I haven’t been able to pick it up.”

            “Oh,” I said, that feeling sinking down to midpoint. Of course. He was always busy. Urgh. “Well, it’s the thought that counts, I guess,” I said, trying to make the best of this awful mess. So much for Max patching it up himself.

            “Well,” he said. “I was going to ask you if you could pick it up for me.”

            “Oh!” I adored him again. He wasn’t going to let Connie down after all. I felt bad I’d had so little faith in him.

            Gosh, my feelings were going up and down so rapidly, I felt slightly dizzy. I swayed over my cell. “Sure! I’d be glad to.” But just as I said that, I realized, how would I get to Target to do that? It was too late to take back my word, though. Max was already continuing.

            I could hear a smile in his voice when he said, “I was sure you would. They’re holding the present in the jewelry section. You know where that is?”

            “Yup,” I said, trying to sound confident.

            “Thanks. You caught me on my way out the door but I’ll leave some money on the kitchen table so you can pick it up. You have the key, right?” Along with my parents, he gave me a spare key to their house. I found it a huge honor and I kept that key with pride.

            “Of course. I’ll try to get the present to you by tonight.”

            “Sure thing. Thanks, Stacey.”

            “No problem.” But as I kept thinking about it, the more I was realizing that it would be.