Max stepped back.
Would Laura like it?
She would like it.
Laura hung up with her mom, ending with a staccato barrage of thank yous.
She looked up and saw it immediately, the simple white plastic with the glorious blue mark, did this laugh cry combo that made her face look weird, gave Max a kiss on the Adam's Apple then made another phone call.
"Hi April," Laura said.
Max had never met April. She lived in Seattle, couldn't make their wedding, ran her own business, never had time for a visit.
Max double checked that the pregnancy test was securely affixed to the fridge door with blank Post-it notes and a magnet.
He noticed it was a Vegas magnet.
Thought about swapping it out for the little ladybug magnets, decided not to.
Whatever April was saying had delayed Laura's news.
Max rubbed Laura's shoulder and lipped " Be right back.”
He walked out to the garage, doing a happy dance and his typical superstitious avoidance of the cement cracks.
Next to a bunch of bolts and washers he would never use, he grabbed the greasy cigar box.
The joy drained from him like motor oil.
He had to.
He hated the cliche now or never, but he had walked himself into it.
Remembered putting the first piece of paper in the box so vividly it stung.
Knew he had done it a half dozen times, had no recollection of at least three of them.
Decided to bring the cigar box itself, sort of a strange show and tell.
Back in the house, Laura was now talking to Sylvia,heard Laura say "Syllable", her nickname.
Max knew Sylvia well, they had been on the same pool team for years.
He leaned in to get close to the phone.
"Laura will call you back later, Syl. Promise."
Laura gave Max a funny look , too happy to be annoyed, and Max heard Sylvia say " Go celebrate with Big Daddy, girlfriend, talk soon."
Laura turned to Max, smiling.
"What's so urgent, Maxwell?"
"I wanna get this over with."
Max was trying and failing to smile.
Laura looked at the cigar box, could smell oil or fluid on it. She recoiled, already thinking about the baby.
Max noticed, pulled the papers from the box, gave the box a long look then opened the cupboard under the sink and shoved it deep in the trash, almost comically deep.
He turned.
"I haven't discussed these with Dr. Rothenberg yet, but…"
He waved the papers lightly.
" I wrote these in the casino parking garage. All but one. One was in the do-it -yourself car wash on Conant."
He stepped toward Laura, trembling, his facial muscles trampolining between a smile and a worried frown.
Laura reached for the papers and Max let them slip from his hands.
Each page said " My Dearest Laura."
The one with the shakiest handwriting said "My Ultimate, My Everything, My Dearest Laura."
There were no other words on the pages.
One had a smudge that looked like Redpop, Max's favorite.
Laura smiled, weakly.
Max knew he was damaging the moment, but he had to,now, right now.
" They're a lovely start to something, Maxey, ummm…"
Max grabbed her by the head, gently, firmly and pulled her toward him as he fell into her, twisting at the last minute so he could balance them both against the refrigerator.
"They were suicide notes. I…I could never make it past your name."
Laura froze, then snatched the plastic strip with the blue plus sign and pressed it against Max's face.
He held her hand against his own, pressing the plastic into his face. He hoped it left a mark.
As she sobbed into his chest, he whispered "I sold the gun.”
***
Damn, Jimmy. Amazing storytelling, as always.
Definitely didn’t see this end(?) coming and was captivated throughout it. Powerful and sad…and left me wanting more. In short, everything I want in a short story.