Chapter Four
Diner Dash
“Tammie? Are you okay?”
Tammie wipes the tears from her face and turns away, pulling her jacket closer to her face.
“Tammie?”
“I’m okay,” Tammie whispers.
Max moves closer to where Tammie is standing, but not too close. He doesn’t want to invade her space. She’s obviously been crying but is trying to hide it. He understands her need for privacy and keeps his distance.
“You sure you’re okay?” Max makes one final attempt.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” Tammie speaks again, irritation glazing her response.
“Okay, well, um, could you help me out?” Max changes the subject.
Tammie turns toward him. Max is in the middle of West Park, located just behind Wellis High School. Most people don’t come to the park unless they live in the area, so what is Max doing here?
“Are you lost or something?” Tammie asks.
“Yeah, actually,” Max hems. “I’m staying with Officer Kent for a little while. He lives a few blocks from here, and he told me there was a diner somewhere by the park where the high school kids hang out. I’ve been walking around for about a half hour. It’s getting a little cool, and I still haven’t seen the diner.”
Tammie nods. “It’s right across the street,” she points to a diner with a large sign posted out front.
Max glances at the sign and smiles. “Ha, what do you know? Right there in front of me. What would I do without you, Tammie?”
Tammie shrugs; she isn’t in the mood to talk.
“Ok, well, I guess I’ll see you around?” Max risks lightly touching her shoulder with his hand. Through that small touch her resolve breaks, and Tammie’s eyes flood with tears. Max watches apprehensively as she crumbles before his eyes. Not knowing what else to do, Max pulls her into an embrace, rubbing her back softly. Tammie sobs on his chest, muffling her cries in his shirt.
“It’s okay,” he speaks soothingly. “It’s alright, Tammie. It’s going to be okay, just let it out.” Tammie does just that. By the time her cries subside, Max’s shirt is soaked.
“I’m sorry,” Tammie rasps.
“It’s okay,” Max shrugs. He looks at Tammie’s tear-stained face. Her eyes are puffy and red. Her throat has to be dry. “Can I buy you a soda or something?” he offers.
Tammie nods in consent, and they walk to the diner across the street. They sit in a corner booth, and Max orders two cream sodas. He’s glad Mr. Kent gave him some money before he left.
Max is quiet, allowing Tammie time to gather her thoughts. When she finishes her soda, he tries to speak to her.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asks.
Tammie shakes her head, and fresh tears brim, then gently cascade down her face.
Max immediately regrets his first question.
“I’m sorry, Tammie, I shouldn’t push you to talk.” Max looks away as Tammie continues to cry. He doesn’t know what is wrong with her, but he feels responsible to fix it.
He turns to Tammie and smiles. “So did I tell you my dad is in rehab?”
Tammie shakes her head and wipes her tears. “No, I’m sorry to hear that, Max.”
“No, it’s good,” Max assures her. “He’s getting help, and that’s great news. Of course, that’s why I’m with Mr. Kent. My dad had a little falling out with Mr. West, so I couldn’t stay with Martin. Mr. Kent offered to take me in as soon as he found out my dad was checking himself in to the center.”
“How long?” Tammie asks.
Max smiles to himself, glad to see that Tammie is no longer crying.
“Six weeks. Then he’ll be attending weekly AA meetings for a year. After that, I’m not sure. He’ll still meet with a support group, but on a volunteer basis.”
“That’s good,” Tammie comments. “Do you still work at the Children’s Hospital?”
Max sighs. “Not for much longer. My required hours are almost up, and with so many different transitions in the last few months, it’s been difficult getting around.”
Tammie nods in understanding. “How have you been, I mean, without your mom? It’s been-”
“About four months,” Max sighs. “Four very long months.”
Tammie gives Max a look of apology. “I’m sorry if I brought up painful memories.”
Max waves his hand in dismissal. “It’s okay. I like talking about her and remembering her.”
“You must miss her,” Tammie comments.
Max nods. “I didn’t think I could make it through the holidays without her. First Thanksgiving, then Christmas and the New Year; they came and went without her. I gotta admit, watching everyone else enjoying the holidays made me angry. My world fell apart when my mom died, and I expected everyone else’s to be a little less cheery.”
Max looks at Tammie. “It just didn’t seem fair, you know? I was stuck in time, but life could care less if I was hurting and went right on without me.”
Tammie nods in agreement. “I know what you mean. I mean…” Tammie glances at Max in panic, hoping he won’t push her to continue. He doesn’t, and Tammie is grateful. “So, will you be attending Wellis now?” Tammie changes the subject.
Max shakes his head. “Mr. Kent is going to drive me to LHS in the morning, and I’ll take the bus back here in the afternoons.” Max watches Tammie’s expression shift down in disappointment.
He continues, “You know, Martin’s got basketball-itis, so until the season is over, I’m pretty much flying solo after school. I could use a friend, if you don’t mind the company.”
“Well, I’m pretty friendless right now, so having some company in the afternoon would be nice,” Tammie concedes.
Max frowns. “I thought maybe you and Jennifer hung out in the afternoon, or you and your boyfriend-”
Tammie shakes her head, interrupting Max. “Jennifer and I haven’t spoken in weeks and my boyfriend and I broke up.”
“Oh,” They both sit in silence for several moments before Max speaks. “So, are those subjects off-limits?”
“For now,” Tammie nods.
“Hm,” Max looks up in thought. “Can you cook?” he asks.
Tammie isn’t expecting the question. “Can I cook?”
“Yea, can you cook?” Max asks again.
“Um, yes,” Tammie answers slowly. “Why?”
“Will you cook for me?” Max grins.
“Excuse me?” Tammie’s voice goes higher. “Why should I cook for you?”
“Well, because I’m your friend,” Max feigns shock. “Don’t you cook for your friends?”
“Not really,” Tammie replies.
“Well, I’m making a special request,” Max smiles. “Promise you’ll cook something for me?”
“No way,” Tammie shakes her head. “Cook your own food!”
“I do,” Max sighs. “That’s why I’m asking you to cook for me.” Tammie raises her eyebrows.
Max looks down in shame. “I never learned to cook. I always assumed my mom would do it. My dad assumed the same. Mr. Kent’s no good in the kitchen either. Me and my dad had turkey sandwiches for Thanksgiving and ham sandwiches for Christmas. I haven’t had a good home-cooked meal in a very long time, and I’m asking you as my friend to be merciful, take pity on me, and cook for me. Please?” Max places his hands together in a begging motion.
Tammie sighs. “Alright,” she shakes her head. “Since you are so pathetic, I will take pity on you, have mercy, and cook for you.”
“Really?” Max’s eyes dance. “You promise?”
Tammie smiles. “I promise.”
Max smiles as he jumps up and hugs her. “You don’t know how happy you’ve made me!” he laughs.
Tammie laughs with him, thrown off guard by his embrace. “But, there’s one condition,” she adds.
Max cheeses. “What’s that?”
“You have to help me.”
Max’s face goes blank.
Tammie sighs in exasper
ation. “Give a man a fish, you feed him for a day; teach a man to cook, you’ll feed him for the rest of his life.”
“I see,” Max frowns.
“Don’t pout,” Tammie smiles. “Trust me, I am doing you a big favor.”
“Perhaps,” Max shrugs. He looks at his watch. “I’d better get going before O.K. comes looking for me.”
Tammie shrugs, attempting to hide her disappointment. “Thanks for talking with me, Max.” She smiles as best she can.
Max places his hand on her shoulder. “Anytime you need me, you can call. Here,” Max pulls a pen from his back pocket and scribbles a number on a napkin. “That’s O.K.’s number. Call anytime between 7:00 am and 10:00 pm. The ringer is off any time before or after that.”
“Okay, Max,” Tammie smiles. “I’ll see you around?”
Max nods and Tammie waves goodbye as he walks out of the restaurant.
Tammie bites her lip and sighs. She sits in the booth several more minutes, staring at her empty glass. Her tears come flooding back, and Tammie quickly leaves.
•••
“Martin, how do you feel about dating someone outside your race?” Max asks.
Martin shrugs as he tosses a basketball in the air. It soars across the court and into the hoop, making a whoosh sound as it slides through the net.
“Nothin’ but net,” Martin smiles smugly. “Your turn.”
Martin passes the ball to Max. He catches it, reluctantly, and steps up to the half court line. “Have I told you I hate this game?” Max grimaces.
“Just shut up and shoot,” Martin smiles.
Max bounces the ball three times before tossing it into the air. It soars effortlessly through the air, past the 3-point line, the free-throw line, and then past the hoop. It bounces off the back wall and then back to Max and Martin.
“Nice,” Martin smiles.
Max rolls his eyes. “It’s just not my sport. Besides, I’m distracted.”
“Over what?” Martin chuckles as he grabs the ball and shoots another time. “By the way, that’s ‘S’ for you.” The ball makes another whoosh as it goes through the net.
“I’m just thinking about stuff,” Max mumbles.
Martin grabs the ball, but pauses before tossing it to Max again. “Is it your dad?”
Max shakes his head. “No, nothing like that. I ran into Tammie a few days ago and she hasn’t called, and-”
“Tammie?” Martin interrupts. “As in Tammie McLeod?”
Max looks up at him. “Yeah, Tammie M., Jennifer’s friend from the church. She lives on the west side, and I ran into her a couple days ago.”
“And?” Martin pries.
“And we had a soda, we talked, I gave her my number, and I haven’t heard from her since.”
Martin is quiet a long time.
“Aren’t you going to say something? Anything?” Max asks.
Martin shrugs. “It’s probably for the best.”
“What makes you say that?” Max asks. “Is it because I’m white? I mean, I know that sort of thing matters in real life, even though we say things like that don’t matter-”
“No, no it’s not like that,” Martin stops Max’s rambling. “It’s just that Tammie’s got a lot going on with her, and she probably needs to sort some things out.”
“How do you know?” Max’s voice is full of alarm. “Did she say something to you? Have you been talking to her?”
“What? No, not at all,” Martin backpedals. “It’s just that Jennifer told me she is going through an… issue.” Martin stops, hoping he hasn’t said too much already. If Tammie wants Max to know her private business, she will be the one to tell him. Martin certainly isn’t going to cross that boundary.
“What, you mean with her boyfriend? Or, ex-boyfriend? She told me about him,” Max chuckles, his voice more relaxed. “But, do you think maybe she still has feelings for him?”
“That’s a possibility,” Martin offers.
“Yeah,” Max nods. “She did seem pretty heartbroken. If she’s got some feelings and stuff to sort through, I guess she doesn’t need anyone complicating things for her, right?”
“Probably not,” Martin agrees.
“Yeah, she’s in no condition to begin any sort of romantic relationship, I bet,” Max explains.
“I agree 100%,” Martin nods.
“She could probably use a friend, though,” Max adds. “You know, someone to listen to her problems, a shoulder to cry on.”
Martin nods his head. “Absolutely.”
“I think she needs me,” Max smiles.
“Not,” Martin shakes his head.
“She definitely likes me,” Max adds, “as a friend of course.”
“I’m sure, but Max-” Martin isn’t able to finish.
“And she told me her and Jennifer still aren’t speaking, so I’m guessing she’s pretty lonely,” Max continues.
“Yeah, but Max you know how you are…”
“And I need someone to talk to, too,” Max grins from ear to ear. “No offense, Martin, but you’re hard to catch up with during basketball season, unless I come practice this silly game with you.”
“Excuse me?” Martin takes an injured tone.
“Yeah, I think Tammie and I could really help each other out,” Max is convinced.
“Max, now’s not a good time, you said so yourself,” Martin is flustered.
“Not for a new boyfriend, of course, but a boy friend? There’s nothing wrong with that!” Max chuckles as he reaches into his pocket for a pen. “Do you have Tammie’s number?”
Martin shakes his head. “Max, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Max pauses. “You’re right. I should ask Jennifer.”
Martin throws the ball at Max. “No! Don’t ask Jennifer! You’re not listening, Max. Calling Tammie right now will just confuse her or, at best, distract her. Do both of you a favor and just back off.”
Max stares at Martin a long time before speaking. “It’s because I’m white, isn’t it?”
“Max!” he groans, rolling his eyes.
“I am listening,” Max retorts, throwing the ball back to Martin. “And I got the message loud and clear. Thanks for the support, Martin.”
“C’mon, Max, don’t be that way,” Martin chides. “Just take my advice, please?”
Max looks up in thought. “Ok, I won’t call her. But! If she calls me, I’m not going to avoid her. Fair enough?”
Martin sighs. “Fair enough,” Martin agrees and hands Max the ball.
Max doesn’t bother bouncing the ball this time. He simply tosses it in the air. “If I find out that you hooked up with her behind my back, you’re toast.”
Martin laughs as the ball bounces off the wall again.