Rogue

“Who is he?” Daphne appeared baffled, and her mother looked crazy. She was washing her hands, and trying to comb her hair at the same time. It wasn't working.

“He's a friend. No, he's a stranger. I don't know who he is. I'm having dinner with him.”

“Now?” Daphne looked horrified. “What about my paper? It's half of my final grade for the semester.”

“Then you should have thought about it sooner. I can't do your paper. I have a date, your brother is throwing up, Zelda is dying, and Jack is probably going to catch pneumonia from standing in the rain at a bus stop for an hour.”

“You have a date?” Daphne stared at her. “When did that happen?”

“It didn't. And it probably never will at this rate. Will you please go talk to him?” As she said it, Sam said he was going to throw up again, and she ran him into the bathroom, as Daphne went to meet Charles with a look of resignation. She managed to toss over her shoulder on the way out that if she flunked, it wasn't her fault, since her mother wouldn't help with the paper. “Why is it my fault?” Maxine shouted back at her from the bathroom doorway.

“I feel better,” Sam announced, but he didn't look it. Maxine put him back in her bed, with towels around him, washed her hands again, and gave up on her hair. She was about to leave the room to see Charles, when Sam looked at her mournfully from the bed. “How come you have a date?”

“I just do. He invited me to dinner.”

“Is he nice?” Sam looked worried. He couldn't even remember the last time his mother had gone out. Nor could she.

“I don't know yet,” she said honestly. “It's no big deal, Sam. Just dinner.” He nodded. “I'll be back in a minute,” she reassured him. There was no way she was going out to dinner.

She reached the living room finally in time to hear Daphne telling Charles all about her father's yacht, plane, penthouse in New York, and house in Aspen. It wasn't exactly what Maxine wanted her to talk about on the first date, although she was grateful Daphne had left out London, St. Bart's, Morocco, and Venice. She gave Daphne a quelling look and thanked her for entertaining Charles. Maxine turned to him then and apologized profusely for Sam's performance when he walked in. What she really wanted to apologize for was Daphne bragging about her father. When she showed no sign of getting up, Maxine told Daphne she needed to get started on her science paper. Daphne was reluctant to leave, but finally did so. Maxine felt like she was going to have hysterics.

“I'm so sorry. My house isn't usually this insane. I don't know what happened. Everything went nuts today. And I'm sorry about Daphne.” “What are you sorry about? She was just talking about her father. She's very proud of him.” Maxine suspected Daphne was trying to make Charles uncomfortable intentionally, but she didn't want to say that. It was bratty of her, and she knew better. “I didn't realize you'd been married to Blake Williams,” he said, looking a little daunted.

“Yeah,” Maxine said, wishing they could start the evening over, without the scene from The Exorcist on the way in. It would have helped too if she'd remembered they had a date for dinner. She hadn't written it down, and it had gone right out of her head. “That's who I was married to. Would you like a drink?” She realized as she said it that she had nothing in the house except some cheap white wine Zelda used for cooking. Maxine had meant to buy some decent wine over the weekend but had forgotten that too.

“Are we going to dinner?” Charles asked bluntly. It didn't look like it to him, with a sick kid, another one with a paper due, and Maxine looking frazzled beyond belief.

“Would you hate me if we didn't?” she asked honestly. “I don't know how it happened, but I forgot. I had a crazy day today, and I somehow neglected to write it down when we made the date.” She looked near tears, and he felt sorry for her. Normally, he would have been furious, but he didn't have the heart to be. The poor woman looked overwhelmed. “This could be why I don't date. I'm not very good at it.” To say the least.

“Maybe you don't want to date,” he suggested. It had occurred to her too, and she suspected he was right. It just seemed like too much trouble, and too hard to manage. Between her work and her kids, her life was full already. There was no room for anyone else, or the time and effort it took to date.

“I'm sorry, Charles. I'm usually not like this. I run a pretty tight ship.”

“You can't help it if your son and nanny got sick. Would you like to try again? How about Friday night?” She didn't want to tell him that Zelda would be off then. If she had to, she'd ask her to work. Between the root canal the week before, and tonight, Zelda owed her one anyway, and she was a good sport about things like that.