Page 76 of Off Court Fix

A minute later, Crosby’s head pops through the ajar door. “Come,” he tells me, and I push off from the wall, looking at the hand he offers me before taking it. “Mom. This is Maxine. Maxine, my mother, Judy.”

I find a woman sitting on the edge of the bed, brushing her hand repeatedly over the quilt beneath her. She stops stroking the fabric and looks at me but says nothing, her green eyes hollow and empty in a way that makes me uncomfortable.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

She still says nothing.

I look at Crosby, who keeps his eyes on the ground.

I press my lips together, dropping Crosby’s hand and stepping forward. “I like your quilt,” I say. “It reminds me of one my grandmother made me when I was little.”

Immediately her eyes lock on mine. “Did she teach you?”

“No, sadly she didn’t.”

“Shame,” Judy says softly, looking back down at the quilt. “It’s a lost art. But I understand. Quilting takes a lot of patience. I never had it in me to teach my Crosby. Not that he would’ve had interest. That boy. Always with a ball in his hand and on the go, go, go.”

Judy’s voice and eyes trail off, sweeping the room before she snaps her head, circling back to Crosby. “Crosby,” she nearly gasps. “Tuck in your shirt, for god’s sake. There’s a lady present.”

Crosby’s mouth, which had been tightly clamped closed, now hangs open. “W-what?”

It’s a one-word response packed with emotion, and I want to reach back and take Crosby’s hand in mine. I want to squeeze it tightly, so he knows this moment isn’t a dream. It’s real—for both of them.

“Yourshirt,” Judy practically seethes before looking at me. “Who are you, dear?”

I bite my lip for a moment. “I’m—”

“Mom,” Crosby says, stepping closer hesitantly, tucking his white knit polo into his khaki shorts. “Mom, this is Maxine. She’s my girlfriend.”

Now it’s my turn to hang my mouth open. It’s been an unspoken word, one I didn’t know how much I wanted—and needed—to hear. Until now. It’s a truth spoken out loud to someone else. And it doesn’t do any harm to share it with Judy. In fact, it does good, for all of us. Because her eyes light up at me.

“Girlfriend? Oh, you should’ve told me. I would’ve fixed my hair!” Judy moves to get off the bed. Crosby offers her a hand, but she ignores the help and steps to me. “Aren’t you just lovely! Crosby, why didn’t you tell me you were bringing her home? Oh, finally you’ve settled onone. And she’s beautiful.”

I raise an eyebrow at Crosby, and he breaks out of his shock just enough to shrug at me.

“Come, Maxine.” Judy takes my hand and pulls me to the loveseat at the window. “Crosby, make some tea. And maybe go and get a pie from the bakery. Blueberry, I think. But make sure Mrs. Jones doesn’t cheat you. Don’t let her give you the crap from the back made yesterday.”

Crosby looks between us.

“Go,” Judy says. “I want to hear all about Maxine.”

I flash him a small smile.It’s okay, I mouth.

“I’ll... go see if there’s something in the kitchen,” Crosby says, scratching the back of his head.

Judy doesn’t have the chance to hear much about me because she can’t stop talking about Crosby. And I don’t mind, not one bit. She has me reach for all the frames on the dresser—and I don’t know if the memories Judy recalls from the photos are accurate. But she believes they are, and that’s what’s most important.

I open my tote bag, pulling out the frame. “I love this one,” I tell her, showing her the picture taken of them at the carousel.

“Wasn’t he just adorable?” she asks with an admirable sigh. “Oh, such a cute, sweet boy. He loved carousels. I loved taking him to this one by the water. We’d look at all the boats after.”

I tongue my cheek as Crosby enters, hesitantly holding a tray with cups of steaming tea.

“We should look at the boats today,” I say to him before looking at Judy. “Don’t you think?”

* * *

It took almost an hour of discussion, but we managed to get the sign-off from the doctor and Rolling Meadows administration to take Judy on day leave—with one of her aids, as everyone insisted.

---