Page 32 of WASP

Caroline took another step back, and then another. Reaching for the doorknob, she slipped out into the hall without another word.

Annie released a long exhale, hands curling around the edge of the dresser, listening intently for any sound of Caroline still lingering in the hallway. After a few long moments, she moved quietly to her bed, reaching for not one, but two pillows. Stacking them one on top of the other, she lifted them to her face where she let out one long scream of anger muffled by the down and party noises below. She screamed again and again until slowly but surely, the steam settled.

With a deep breath, she set the pillows back on the bed, giving them an extra fluff. She crossed the room, stopping only to touch up her makeup, slipping through the door to rejoin the party below.

She descended the stairs, reentering the kitchen, her eyes landing on her brother, Jack, and Max’s perfect ass standing around the kitchen island.

“Speak of the devil.” Jack beamed, running a hand through his mess of dark hair as Annie stepped up to the counter next to Max. From the waist down, Max looked like a disco ball in shiny black pants, tiny sequins catching light from every direction. She paired the pants with a chunky wine-red sweater and a complementary dark lipstick, the depth of the hue making her pale blue eyes pop even more than usual.

“I love the pants,” Annie said earnestly.

A smile tugged at the corner of Max’s mouth that made Annie want to figure out exactly how to get a full one from her.

“So yeah, we’re just gonna go…” Drew trailed off, steering Jack away from them and off into the depths of the party.

They stood there quietly for a moment before being interrupted by one of the caterers entering the space with an empty tray.

“You okay?” Max asked quietly. “We all saw Caroline come downstairs.”

Annie tilted her head, searching Max’s gaze, seeing nothing but genuine care.

“I’m okay,” she answered. “Four months down, three to go.” She echoed the timeline to healing Max had mentioned the previous month at the club, the same one she had latched onto as she tried to figure out the impossible task of pivoting her life completely from the path she had envisioned for herself.

“Did Drew tell you about the chocolates?” Annie asked.

“First I’m hearing about chocolates.” Max grinned, taking the last sip from the glass of wine in front of her.

“Come with me,” Annie said, taking a split second to rethink her next move but ultimately deciding to be brave as she slid her hand into Max’s, pulling her towards the sun room at the back of the house—which was thankfully empty.

This room was Annie’s favorite, especially at Christmas. The wall-to-wall windowed room with the slanted ceiling felt like one large greenhouse, glowing with soft lighting and plants and Annie’s favorite Christmas tree—the one with all white lights and handmade ornaments made by herself and her siblings.

She dropped Max’s hand, instantly missing the heat of it in hers as she peered between the branches of the tree, searching for her prize. “Here,” she said a moment later, producing a tiny bag filled with chocolate golden coins. “Each tree has a few bags. If you find the pickle ornament, you get $100.”

“Chocolate and money, sign me up.” Max winked, taking the bag from Annie. “But why a pickle?”

“No idea.” Annie shrugged, looking up into Max’s eyes, her chin angling down slightly. She swayed, her body leaning into Max’s personal space before she had the sense to pivot away, turning her attention back to the tree and the search for chocolate.

They each searched top to bottom, and a few moments later, Max’s triumphant call rang out. “Oh! Found one.” She reached across Annie, plunging her arm into the tree, their shoulders bumping. “Look.” Max wiggled the little bag in front of her, showing off her prize when Annie spotted it. The tiny glint of metallic green amongst the prickly pine needles.

“Great job,” she said, pressing up onto her tiptoes and leaning forward, definitely in Max’s personal space now. “But you lost sight of the long game.” Annie breathed those words hot against Max’s cheek as she reached into the tree, producing a tiny green pickle topped with a Santa hat.

Max stood rooted to the spot, eyes wide and pupils blown, before she snapped back to reality. And that only pleased Annie more, knowing she could still have that effect on a woman.

“Well, shit. Big pay day for you.” A grin spread across Max’s dark red lips.

Annie shook her head, smiling. “Not for me. For you.” She pressed the pickle into the palm of Max’s hand. “Merry Christmas, Max.”

EIGHT

MAX

Max looked up at the gray house perched on top of the hillside. From her position on the bobbing dock that creaked with each passing ripple in the water, the house looked no larger than the size of her thumb, and if she squinted, holding it up for comparison, the house completely disappeared. She leaned back on the heels of her hands, weathered planks of pressure-treated wood scratching against her skin.

Winter in Maryland differed drastically from the ones she had grown accustomed to in Connecticut. For example, it was Christmas Day and warm enough for her to lie out on the dock without needing anything besides the dark blue crewneck with big yellow letters spelling out the word NAVY she had borrowed from her dad.

It had been a while since she had seen her dad, not since Christmas three years ago, and she hadn’t really talked to him in the last few months. Not out of a lack of love, but due to the ever-dwindling list of shared conversation topics between them. Max liked to think she got her stoicism, her I can take on any challenge in my way mindset, from her dad. She had always admired his hard-working nature, but now, well into her adult years, she couldn’t help but wonder if her dad was hiding something behind that strong facade he showed the world in the same way she was.

The dock shifted beneath her and a moment later a long shadow blocked the sun. She opened her eyes, squinting up into her dad’s smile. In his hands, two mugs, one topped with an aggressive amount of whipped cream, the other with a single jumbo marshmallow.