Page 102 of In a Far-Off Land
After they shook hands and said polite words, Papa gave Max a long, thoughtful look. “Let’s go for a walk, son.”
Max glanced back at me like he thought I might run off but followed Papa through the kitchen and out the back door that led to the hay barn, the chicken pen, the little plot of land we still owned. And I was alone. Waiting again.
I couldn’t bear it. What was Max thinking? What was Papa saying? I went to the front porch. A porch swing hung from the rafterson a set of heavy chains. I sat, setting it to creaking and groaning under my weight.
Max wanted to marry me. I knew that, and I knew why. He always pretended he wasn’t the hero, but he was. He really was. Still, nothing had changed since I got on that eastbound bus in Los Angeles. Max deserved more. Better.
He came to find you, a small voice reminded me. That meant something, didn’t it? And he hadn’t been surprised about the baby. I figured that was Lupita’s doing. It was no good telling him the baby wasn’t his, even if I could pull off a lie that big. If Max wanted to do right by me—and I knew he would—he’d leave me here. I’d give the baby his name, if that’s what he wanted, but I wasn’t going back to Los Angeles with him.
I was here for Papa. I was here for good.
The night was deepening when Max found me curled up on the swing. The peepers had started their evening song, filling the air with their hypnotic chirp. I was glad for the dark. It would be easier that way.
He sat down next to me. Warm and familiar and far too close.
“I like your father,” he said.
I could hear the smile in voice. His hand found mine. There was a lump like an egg in my throat.
“I told him about me. My mother and Dusty. I wanted him to know.” He raised my hand to his face and laid his cheek against my knuckles. “He asked me if I loved you.”
My eyes burned with tears. You’d think I wouldn’t have any left after the day I’d had.
“I do, Mina. You know that, don’t you?”
“Don’t, Max.” I snatched my hand away and stood, making the swing creak. “Don’t say that.”
“Mina, let me ask you—”
“No, Max. Please.” I walked to the far side of the porch. Clasped my hands together to keep them from shaking. I had to get it out or maybe I never would. “No.”
“He said you’d say no.” Max didn’t sound worried.
“I can’t leave him.”
“He said you’d say that, too.” Max let out a breath. “He knows you pretty well. And he loves you, Mina. It’s really something, how much he loves you.”
He did. And I wouldn’t leave Papa, not again. But I heard the wistfulness in Max’s voice and thought of Dusty Clark and how much that young Max had wanted to be loved. My throat constricted. “You don’t know everything, Max. If you did—”
“I wouldn’t want you? Is that what you think?”
“That’s what I know.”
Max stood up and strode across the porch. He pulled me around to face him. “Is it about the Rose? Bert and those men? I don’t care about that, Mina. I’ve told you—”
“There’s more than that.”
That stopped him. But not for long. “Then tell me.” His voice held a hint of anger. “Tell me and see if I walk away like you want me to.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I swallowed hard.
Max was too close. I stepped back. “It’s about what... why I left.”
Max turned soft then. “Tell me, Mina. Tell me all of it.” He took my hand and led me to the swing. He sat and pulled me down close. “But know this, Mina,” he whispered. “Nothing you can tell me—nothing—will change how I feel about you.”
I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to be right or wrong about that.But I told him. I spoke into the dark, his arm warm around me. About Mama. About Papa and Penny and how I’d left school and done everything wrong. When I got to the part about Alex, I felt him tense.
I choked out the story I’d never told anyone, my throat thick.
