CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Maxine's long legs wobbled, buckling inward like the limbs of a colt who had not quite mastered the art of walking. Her knees trembled and her outstretched arms jerked as she tried to balance herself. She felt as if she was about to careen towards the floor in a painful, tailbone-bruising mass of chaos. The difference between today's Max and the Max of two months ago was that the current model refused to accept her fate. One skate-clad foot lifted itself off the ground in a loping half-step that almost cost her what little balance she had. Then her common sense and the eager, half-demented voice shouting instructions at her reminded Maxine that she had wheels on her feet. She pushed backwards a little, and almost glided for a few inches. Again, she quivered and came close to falling. Again, her long arms worked frantically to defy destiny. Another awkward step, push, and glide—well, roll a little, anyway. Then her fingertips brushed the pole, and suddenly she was hugging it, laughing triumphantly.
"I did it!" she cried.
"You did it," Al agreed, coming closer. "Knew you could."
Max wanted to hug him, but if she tried she was pretty sure she would lose her balance. She settled instead for a radiant smile as she glanced over her shoulder to view the distance she had covered. She had made it all the way to the second post—a third of the way across the gymnasium!—without falling once!
"You want to keep going?" Al asked.
"No, I think I'll quit while I'm ahead," she said.
"That's my philosophy," Al told her, offering her his hands. She shifted her weight towards him and after a few seconds of peril he was walking her towards the bleachers, one hand gripping her slender fingers and the other running over her hip.
Maxine leaned contentedly against him, and laughed a little. "You're so short!" she teased.
"You're wearing wheels," Al said sulkily, easing her onto the seat and plunking himself down next to her.
Max leaned forward to undo her laces, noting with amusement that Al was admiring the tops of her breasts where her shirt fell open. Admiring, as if her body were a work of art, not leering as men had been doing ever since she hit puberty. She leaned towards him. "I really appreciate this," she said.
"Uh?" he breathed, curling his arm around her waist and kissing her ear.
"Helping me do this. I appreciate it." She removed her other skate and reached for her knee pad.
"Let me to that," Al said softly. He hadn't been much for romance lately, and Max was starting to miss that. She was only too happy to let him take over. His hands were gentle as he undid the Velcro straps, sensuously caressing her knee with his fingertips. She giggled a little, happily. Maybe he wanted to play!
Al kissed her, reaching across to the other kneecap. "You're gorgeous," he said. "So beautiful."
"You want to…" She let her voice tail suggestively off. Al smiled and curled his hand around the back of her head. His mouth found hers in a deep, impassioned kiss. Max sighed happily and climbed into his lap, one knee on either side of his hips. She reached for his curls. "We could… use… the girl's showers," she suggested. The locker room was nice and private, seldom used, and it was conveniently near at hand.
Al chuckled a little as he ran his hand over her back. He tasted the skin of her neck and pulled her nearer.
"It's perfect," Max murmured. "Let's go…"
Al sighed. "I can't," he said wearily.
Maxine frowned. "Why not?" she asked.
"I have to get back," Al said, lifting her a little so that she moved instinctively off of him and back onto the bench.
Max couldn't deny that she felt a little hurt, and the desolation crept into her voice. "Back? But it's seven at night!"
"I know," Al said, grunting a little as he got to his feet, "but I have work to do, and it isn't going to take care of itself."
"When will you be done?" Max asked.
"Never," Al said. Her brow wrinkled in confusion. "But what you meant to ask was when I was planning to come to bed, right?" He stroked her chin. "As soon as I can, honey. I promise."
He bent to kiss her hair and then started across the gym—away from the exit.
"Al, what are you doing?" Max demanded.
"Putting away the posts," Al answered. "Blessed is he who cleans up his own messes."
"Leave it," she instructed. "I'll do it."
"That's not what a real gentleman would do," Al warned.
"Oh, well, if I were a real lady, I'd mind!" Maxine quipped. "Go on: get to work. The sooner you go, the sooner you'll be back."
"That's true," he allowed. "All right. You can do the heavy lifting—but just this once!" Al trotted back and kissed her, patting her bottom affectionately. "Who wears the pants in this marriage, anyway?"
"If it was up to me, neither of us would be wearing pants right now," Max teased.
Al chuckled and bent to kiss the crown of her head. "I like the way you think," he said. "Maybe I could cut out a little earlier than I'd planned to."
"Please do," Max said, smiling a little. Al winked at her and sauntered away.
Left alone, she put away the poles and surveyed the empty gym with a small sigh. She had really hoped for a whole evening with Al. She didn't want to go back to their little suite, to sit all by herself and think. She thought too much, and her thoughts of late had been dark and disappointed.
Instead, she made her way up the main corridor to the Human Resources offices. Maybe she could distract herself with a little paperwork, or the requisition requests for the Christmas dance. At this time of the evening, there was almost no one in the office, except for the person manning the phone lines for the night. As soon as Max entered the darkened reception area, she saw that it was Daniel Penvenen tonight. He was sitting at his desk, writing in a black composition book. Maxine leaned against the open doorway of his cubicle.
"Good evening," she said softly.
He looked up, and she thought she saw the faintest flicker of paranoia in his eyes. Then he smiled suavely. "How are you, Mrs. Calavicci?"
"Please, call me Maxine," she said. "I'm fine. Just fine."
"So glad to hear it," Penvenen said. "What about your husband?"
"What about him?" Maxine had caught him looking at her legs, and she was suddenly wishing she hadn't left the leotards off. The satin running shorts seemed so inadequate right now.
"How is he?" Penvenen said.
"Oh. Al's fine."
There was an uncomfortable silence. At least, it was uncomfortable for Maxine. Penvenen merely went back to his writing. Watching him, not sure if it would be rude to just walk away, she wished she had just snuck past to her own desk—or better yet, not come up here at all. She didn't want to disturb him.
"There's a parcel for you," Penvenen said, eyes still on whatever he was writing. "Arrived with the evening mail. Odd that you would have it delivered here instead of to your suite."
Max looked at him warily, wondering if he had seen through her secret, and more importantly, whether he would tip Al off. The young man looked up and smiled pleasantly. "A birthday gift for the captain, I'm sure," he said.
"Oh, yes…" Maxine said, seizing the out. "Yeah, well, never too early to plan ahead."
Penvenen hummed softly and turned back to his work. Max had no qualms this time about fleeing. As she entered her own little cubicle and switched on her lamp, she felt her heart beating faster than it had any right to. A large, brown cardboard box sat on her blotter, with the Starbright address through the Department of Defense on the top, and the Board of Education crest to the left. She rummaged in her drawers for a scissor, and made quick work of the packing tape.
Inside, there was a curriculum guide and eight workbooks with plastic spiral binding. She removed each, laying them reverently on the desk, and then moved the box to the floor. She sat down, heart still fluttering, and picked up the first volume. It was heavy: at least three or four hundred pages. The title splashed across its blue cover proclaimed it to be Algebra for High School Equivalency. She flipped it open to one of the middle modules and felt her stomach twist with anxiety. She couldn't make sense of the words. It had been so long since she had been in school, and they hadn't been studying anything near this advanced in the first weeks of the tenth grade! Anxiously, she turned to the first chapter.
"Real Numbers and Integers," she whispered, reading aloud. She vaguely remembered that. Something about concentric circles… real numbers, irrational and rational numbers, integers, whole numbers, natural numbers… yes, she remembered that. Max took a deep, reassuring breath. It wouldn't be so bad. She could do it: she would just have to go slow.
She turned her attention on the other books. There was a green one, that was Geometry; and an orange one: Biology. Civics was pink, and Chemistry was red. Physics, thick and heavy with a canary yellow cover, made her nervous just looking at it, but after all, Starbright was full of physicists, and she would surely be able to trick a little help out of them if she needed it. History was much less daunting, with its cheerful purple cover and clear maps. Last of all was English, in black. It was accompanied by a list of the books she would need—something not required for any of the other courses. She would have to see if Al had any of them, which might not be the easiest thing to do on the sly.
Maxine stared at the volumes with pride and apprehension. She had actually done it: taken the first step towards making up the years she had thrown away. It was at once exciting and terrifying. Still, she was going to do it. These books had cost more than two hundred dollars, paid on Al's credit card because she didn't have one of her own, and she was absolutely determined to succeed. She was going to study, work her way through everything, and in the spring she would go into Phoenix to write the exams. Then, if she passed them, she would be given a certificate that said she had equivalency, that her education was just as thorough and complete as the education of those who had actually made it to graduation. Then she wouldn't have to fib about her school history any more, and she wouldn't have to skirt around the question when she applied for jobs in the future. Heck, she could even go to college if she wanted.
She cleaned out the bottom drawer of her desk, and hid the books in it. She didn't want Al to know what she was doing. He thought that she had finished school. He didn't realize that she was a drop-out, and she didn't want him to know, because then he'd want to know what she had done after quitting the tenth grade and leaving home. She really didn't want to tell him about that, any more than she wanted to tell him about her father. So, she would keep the books here, and come to her office to study. She only worked twenty hours a week, and the rest of the time this little room stood empty. It was the perfect place to work.
It was perfect, and she was going to start now. She found a pencil and took out the Algebra book. With a deep, determined inhalation, she turned back to the first chapter.
There are two kinds of numbers: real numbers and imaginary numbers Imaginary numbers are dealt with in Calculus for High School Equivalency and will not be discussed in this course. The set of real numbers includes all of the numbers normally used in algebra: rational numbers and irrational numbers. Rational numbers have a fixed value that can be expressed as a finite decimal. Rational numbers include 3, 45 367, 2.5, 765.1243 and fractions like 1/10. Irrational numbers, like pi, do not have a value that can be expressed as a finite decimal…
Maxine stopped, swallowing tensely. The catalogue had contained a warning that these workbooks were best for students who were actually taking classes. She had figured that she was smart enough to make sense anything, but now she wasn't so sure. She felt a tear of frustration prickling in her eye already, and she fought it. She wasn't going to cry. She was going to do this.
She went to her almost-empty bookshelf and brought the dictionary to the desk. She turned back to the workbook, and started again, more slowly.
Rational numbers have a fixed value that can be expressed as a finite decimal…