Danielle Steel - Rogue

As always, the conversation was lively whenever they got together. Their grandfather asked them respectively how they were doing in school, and was particularly interested in Jack's soccer games. And by the time lunch was over, they were so full they could hardly move. The meal had been finished off with apple, pumpkin, and mince pies, with a choice of vanilla ice cream or perfectly whipped cream. Sam's shirttail was hanging out when he left the table, the neck of his shirt was open, and his tie was askew. Jack looked more respectable, but had taken his tie off too. Only Daphne looked like a perfect lady, the way she had when she arrived. All three children went back to the living room to watch football, as Maxine sat and relaxed over coffee with her parents.

“It was a fantastic meal, Mom,” Maxine said honestly. She loved the way her mother cooked, and wished she could have learned it from her. But she didn't have the interest or the skill. “It always is fantastic when you cook,” she added, and her mother beamed.

“Your mother is an amazing woman,” her father said, and Maxine smiled at the look they exchanged. They were cute. After all these years, they were still in love. Their fiftieth anniversary was coming up the following year. Maxine was already thinking about giving a party for them. As their only child, the responsibility fell to her. “The kids are looking great,” her father commented, as Maxine helped herself to a chocolate mint from a silver tray her mother had set down in front of them as Maxine groaned. It was hard to believe she could swallow anything else after the enormous meal, but somehow she did.

“Thanks, Dad. They're fine.”

“It's a shame their father doesn't see more of them.” It was a comment he always made. As much as he had enjoyed Blake's company at times, as a father he thought he was a disgrace.

“He's coming in tonight,” Maxine commented noncommittally. She knew what her father thought, and she didn't entirely disagree.

“For how long?” her mother asked. She shared her husband's point of view, that Blake had turned out to be a big disappointment as a husband and father, although she liked him.

“Probably for the weekend,” if he stayed that long. With Blake, that was never a sure thing. But at least he was coming, and seeing them on Thanksgiving. That wasn't automatically a given with him, and the kids were happy with whatever time they got, however brief.

“When did he see them last?” her father asked with obvious disapproval.

“July. In Greece, on the boat. They had a great time.”

“That's not the point,” her father said sternly. “Children need a father. He's never around.”

“He never was,” Maxine said honestly. She didn't have to defend him anymore, although she didn't like being unkind, or to upset the kids by making negative comments about him, which she never did. “That's why we got divorced. He loves them, he just forgets to show up. As Sam says, it sucks. But they seem very well adjusted about it. They may get upset about it later, but for now, they seem to be okay. They accept him for what he is, a lovable, unreliable guy who loves them, and is a lot of fun to be with.” It was a perfect assessment of Blake. Her father frowned and shook his head.

“What about you?” he asked, always concerned about his daughter. Like her mother, he thought she worked too hard, but he was enormously proud of her, and just very sorry she was alone. It didn't seem fair to him, and he resented Blake for how things had turned out, far more than Maxine did herself. She had made her peace with it long since. Her parents never had.

“I'm fine,” Maxine said blandly, in answer to her father's question. She knew what he meant. They always asked.

“Any nice young man on the horizon?” He looked hopeful.

“Nope,” she said with a smile. “I'm still sleeping with Sam.” Both her parents smiled.

“I hope that changes one of these days,” Arthur Connors said, with a look of concern. “Eventually, those kids are going to grow up, before you know it, and you're going to find yourself alone.”

“I think I've got a few years left before I need to panic about it.”

“It goes mighty fast,” he said, thinking about her. “I blinked and you were in medical school. And now look at you. You're an authority in your field on childhood trauma and adolescent suicide. When I think about you, Max, I still think you're fifteen.” He smiled warmly at her, and her mother nodded.

“Yeah, me too, Dad. Sometimes I look at Daphne, wearing my clothes and high heels, and I wonder how that happened. Last time I looked, she was three. Jack's suddenly as tall as I am, overnight, and five minutes ago, Sam was two months old. It's weird, isn't it?”

“It's even weirder when your ‘children' are the age you are. You'll always be a kid to me.” She liked that about their relationship. There had to be somewhere in the world, and people in it, where you could still be a kid. It was too hard to be a grown-up all the time. That was the nice thing about still having parents, there was a feeling of safety not having to be the oldest member of the family yet.

She wondered sometimes if Blake's crazy wild behaviors stemmed from a fear of getting old. She couldn't totally blame him if that was the case. In many ways, responsibility was what he feared most, and yet he had been so extraordinary in business. But that was different. He had wanted to be a “wunderkind” or golden boy forever, and now he was all grown up and middle-aged. She knew it scared him more than anything else, and he couldn't run fast enough to get away from facing himself. It was sad in a way, and he had missed so much. While he was running faster than the speed of sound, his kids were growing up, and he had lost her. It seemed like a high price to pay to be Peter Pan.

“Well, don't talk yourself into being old yet,” her father said then. “You're still a young woman, and any man would be lucky to have you. At forty-two, you're still a kid. Don't lock yourself up, and forget to go out and have some fun.” They all knew that she didn't go out much. He was afraid sometimes that she was still in love with Blake and pining for him, but her mother insisted that wasn't the case. She just hadn't met anyone yet. And they both wanted her to find the right man this time. Her father had tried to fix her up with a few physicians initially, but it had never worked out, and Maxine had said she preferred to find her own dates.

She helped her mother clear the table and make order in the kitchen, but Marguerite told her the housekeeper would be back the next day, so they joined the others in the living room, avidly watching the game on TV. And reluctantly, at five o'clock, Maxine pried the children away. She hated to do it, but she didn't want them to be late for Blake. Every moment they shared with him was precious. Her parents were sorry to see them leave. They hugged and kissed, and she and the children thanked them for the terrific meal. It was what everyone's Thanksgiving should be, and Maxine was grateful for the family she had. She knew just how lucky she was.

She and the children walked slowly back up Park Avenue to their own building. It was five-thirty by then. The kids changed out of their good clothes, and unusually promptly for him, Blake called at six. He had just gotten in. He was on his way in from the airport, and told them to be at his place at seven. He said everything was set and waiting for them. He was having dinner catered by a restaurant, and knowing they would have had turkey at their grandparents', he said he had ordered something different. Dinner would be ready by nine, and they could hang out till then. Just hearing about it, the children were thrilled.

“Are you sure you still want me to come?” Maxine asked cautiously. She hated to intrude on their time with him, although she knew Sam would be more comfortable with her around. But he had to get used to being with Blake at some point. He never spent enough time with him to get over that hump. Blake didn't mind. He loved having Maxine around, and always made her feel welcome. Even five years after the divorce, they still enjoyed each other's company, as friends.