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They still took the same route, and Shay remembered that day in Galveston. It had been one of their last great days together. Suggesting they take the trip again could tarnish the memory or it could recapture its joy, and Shay decided to go for optimism.
“It’s winter,” Max said, but Shay knew her sister and that wasn’t a no.
The ice cream shop wasn’t open, but it didn’t matter. They sat on the mostly empty beach and watched the ocean in contented silence.
“You’re pregnant,” Max finally said, and Shay laughed and laughed and laughed until she fell back into the sand, breathless.
“What? You are,” Max said, her lips twitching. Sometimes she reminded Shay of Callum that way, scared of her own amusement.
“I feel like I’m wearing a sign or something,” Shay said, pushing back up into a sitting position. She took a risk and scooted close enough that her shoulder pressed against Max’s. Max stiffened but didn’t move away. “I’ve been building up to tell you for a week, and you already knew.”
“You stopped drinking, girl,” Max said, with a sly look. “You might as well be walking around with neon.”
Shay buried her face in her hands, but laughed.
“Does this mean you’re leaving?” Max asked after a few more minutes of silence.
“Yeah,” Shay said on a sigh. “Callum tried to get moved down here even before I told him about the baby, but ...”
“Red tape,” Max finished the thought.
“You can come with us.”
“Ha, our own fucked-up littleBrady Bunch? No, thank you,” Max said, as expected.
“Not to be, like, an after-school special, but you’re always welcome with us,” Shay said. “I just needed that said once, and now I’ll drop it.”
“You said it twice,” Max murmured, but without any bitterness.
Shay nudged her shoulder. “I can say it as many times as you need to hear it, too.”
“Beau would be lonely without me,” Max said, and Shay didn’t know if that was true. She thought Beau might be like one of those trees that flourished after you cut its invasive neighbor down, finally able to get full sun for the first time in years. It wasn’t a flattering thought for either her or Max, so she kept her mouth shut. “Is Callum going to put a ring on it?”
“Yeah,” Shay said with a laugh. She wasn’t necessarily into the idea of weddings or marriage, but she was into the idea of promising herself to Callum for a lifetime. And he was a little old-fashioned in that regard. Not that he would have forced the issue, but she knew he wanted to marry her. “It won’t be anything fancy. But you can be my maid of honor.”
“Oh, yippee, an ugly dress,” Max said, with such fond amusement that Shay nearly hugged her.
“You can wear pants,” Shay promised. “Jeans, even, if you want.”
Max pressed her cheek into the top of her knees and looked at Shay through one squinted eye. “You know that serial-killer box you found?”
The change of topic surprised her, but Shay cautiously went with it.
“Uh, yeah.” As if she would ever forget about it.
“Do you think I’m capable of hurting someone?” Max asked. “Is that why you were so worried? Because you love me. You trust me to be your maid of honor, but you don’t trust me not to kill someone.”
“I didn’t think you were going to kill someone,” Shay protested.
Max made some disbelieving sound. “You think I’m capable of violence, at least.”
Shay stared out into the ocean. Max’s bullshit meter was off-the-charts good. If she lied, she’d ruin whatever this fragile thing was that had been repaired between them today.
She inhaled and told the truth. “I think you’re a survivor.”
Max nodded and looked toward the water as well.
Long after Shay had given up on a response, Max whispered, “I learned it from you.”