Rogue

“Is he bringing a friend?” Sam asked, and Maxine realized she had no idea. Blake often had women with him when he saw the kids. They were always young, and sometimes the children had fun with them, although most of the time, she knew, they found his carousel of women an intrusion, particularly Daphne, who liked being the primary female in her father's life. She thought he was really cool. And she was finding her mother a lot less so these days, which was appropriate for her age. Maxine saw teenage girls who hated their mothers all the time. It passed with time, and she wasn't worried about it yet.

“I don't know if he's bringing someone or not,” Maxine said, as Zelda made a snorting sound of disapproval from the stove.

“The last one was a real dud,” Daphne commented, and then left the kitchen to check out her mother's closet. Their bedrooms were all in close proximity to one another down a long hall, and Maxine liked it that way. She was happy being near them, and Sam often slipped into her bed at night, claiming he had bad dreams. Most of the time, he just enjoyed cuddling up to her, whatever the excuse.

Aside from that, they had a proper living room, a dining room just big enough for them, and a small den where Maxine often worked, writing articles or preparing lectures, or research papers. Their apartment was nothing compared to the opulent luxury of Blake's, which was like a space ship perched on top of the world. Maxine's apartment was cozy and warm, and felt like a real home.

When she went to her bedroom to dry her hair, she found Daphne energetically going through her closet. She had emerged with a white cashmere sweater and a pair of towering high heels, black leather Manolo Blahniks, with pointed toes and stiletto heels, which her mother seldom wore. Maxine was tall enough as it was, and she had only been able to wear heels that high when she was married to Blake.

“Those are too high for you,” Maxine cautioned her. “I nearly killed myself the last time I wore them. What about some others?”

“Mommmmm …,” Daphne groaned, “I'll be fine in these.” To Maxine, they looked too sophisticated for a thirteen-year-old, but Daphne looked more like fifteen or sixteen, so she could get away with it. She was a beautiful girl, with her mother's features and creamy skin, and her father's jet-black hair.

“Must be quite a night at Emma's tonight.” Maxine grinned. “Hot boys, huh?” Daphne rolled her eyes and walked out of the room, which was further confirmation of what her mother had said. Maxine was a little nervous about what life would be like once boys entered the scene. So far the kids had been easy, but she knew better than anyone that that couldn't last forever. And if it got tough, she'd have to handle it alone. She always had.

Maxine took a hot shower and put on a terrycloth robe. Half an hour later she and her children were at the kitchen table, while Zelda served them a dinner of roast chicken, baked potatoes, and salad. She cooked good, solid wholesome meals, and they all agreed she made the best brownies, snickerdoodles, and pancakes in the world. Maxine often thought sadly that Zelda would have made a great mom, but there was no man in her life, and hadn't been in years. At forty-two, more than likely, that chance had passed her by. She had Maxine's kids to love instead.

At dinner, Jack announced that he was going to a movie with a friend. There was a new horror movie he wanted to see, which promised to be particularly gory. He needed his mother to drop him off and pick him up. Sam was going to a friend's for a sleepover the next day, and planned to watch a DVD that night, in her room, with popcorn, in her bed. Maxine was going to take Daphne to Emma's house on the way to Jack's movie. The following day she had errands to run, and the weekend would take shape, as it always did, haphazardly, according to the kids' plans and needs.

She was thumbing through People magazine later that night, while waiting for a call from Daphne to pick her up, and came across a picture of Blake at a party the Rolling Stones had given in London. He had a well-known rock star on his arm, a staggeringly beautiful girl who practically had no clothes on, as Blake stood next to her and beamed. Maxine stared at his photograph for a minute, trying to decide if it bothered her, and confirmed to herself that it didn't, as Sam snored softly next to her, his head on her pillow, the empty popcorn bowl beside him, and his love-worn teddy bear in his arms.