Rogue

“Yes.” She was honest with him. “They like things the way they are. They don't want anything to change.”

“That's understandable. They wouldn't like it if I got married either. I hope he's good to you, Max,” Blake said, sounding more serious than he had in years.

“He is.”

“Then congratulations.” He laughed then and sounded more like himself. “I guess I didn't expect it to happen so soon. But it'll be good for you, and the kids. They just don't know it yet. Listen, I'll call you when I can. I have to go now. There's too much going on here to talk for long. Take care of yourself and kiss the kids … and Max, congratulations again …” And before she could even thank him, he was gone. She hung up the phone, and went to bed. She was thinking about Blake in the devastation after the earthquake in Morocco and all he was doing to help orphans and wounded people, clear away rubble, and fly in medicines and food. For once, he was doing more than just putting his money to good use, he was rolling up his sleeves to do the work himself. It didn't sound like the Blake she knew, and she wondered if he was finally growing up. If so, it was long overdue.

Maxine called her parents in the morning, and finally someone was thrilled with the news. Her father said he was delighted and he liked him, and that Charles was just the kind of man he had hoped she would find and marry one day. And it pleased him that he was a physician too. He told her to congratulate Charles, and offered his best wishes to her, which was the proper way to do it. And then her mother got on the phone, and asked all about the wedding.

“Are the children excited?” she asked, as Maxine smiled and shook her head. They didn't get it.

“Not exactly, Mom. It's a big change for them.”

“He's a very nice man. I'm sure in the long run they'll be very glad you married him.”

“I hope so,” she said, sounding less sure than her mother.

“Both of you will have to come to dinner soon.”

“We'd love that,” Maxine said. She wanted Charles to get to know them better, particularly since he had no family himself.

It was nice for everyone that her parents were so happy for them, and that they approved. It mattered a great deal to Maxine, and she hoped it would to Charles too. It would help to balance the children's lack of enthusiasm.

Charles had dinner with her and the children that night, and it was a quiet meal. There were no unpleasant outbursts, and no one said anything rude, but they weren't happy either. They just got through it, and went to their rooms. This wasn't the way Charles had hoped it would be.

Maxine told him about her call to her parents, and he looked pleased.

“At least someone around here likes me,” he said, looking relieved. “Maybe we should take them to La Grenouille.”

“They want to have us over first, and I think they should.” She wanted to get him used to their traditions, and bring him into her family.

And then, after dinner, she had an idea. She unlocked her desk drawer and took out the ring she had been waiting to wear for months. She asked Charles to put it on her finger, and he looked thrilled. It finally made what they'd been saying real. They were engaged to be married, no matter how unhappy her children appeared to be about it. It was a wonderful thing, and Charles kissed her as they both looked down at the ring. It sparkled as brightly as her hopes for their marriage, and their love for each other, which hadn't dimmed in the last difficult days. Nothing had changed. This was just one of those rough patches they knew they had to get through. And Maxine had foreseen it more than he. He was delighted she still loved her ring, and him. They were getting married in nine weeks.

“We have to get busy now working on the wedding,” she said, feeling excited and young again. It was nice not having to keep it secret anymore.

“Oh my God,” he said, teasing her. “How big is it going to be?” She had already ordered the invitations. They were going out in three weeks, and they still had to make their final lists, and she said something about signing up for the registry at Tiffany. “Do people do that for second weddings?” he asked, looking surprised. “Aren't we a little old for all that?”

“Of course not,” she said, looking giddy. “And I still have to find a dress.” She needed to find one for Daphne too. Maxine was faintly nervous that she'd refuse to come to the wedding, so she wasn't going to push it.

As they made their lists that night, they agreed to invite two hundred people to the wedding, which might leave them with around a hundred and fifty, which sounded right to both of them. And she said that she had to invite Blake. Charles balked at that.

“You can't invite your ex-husband to the wedding. What if I invited my ex-wife?”

“That's up to you, and it's fine with me if that's what you want. For me, Blake is family, and the children would be very upset if he wasn't there.” Charles groaned as he listened.