Snapshot · (Roswell Fanfiction) · √

53. A Family Affair

Max and Liz's home
(2018) Max is 32, Liz is 32

"I just don't think it's such a good idea," Max said, his voice bearing the faintest trace of irritation.

The stack of dining plates produced a loud 'clunk' as Liz deposited them on the counter. "Shouldn't this be up to me to decide?"

Max circled her and grabbed the dish towel from its hook. "You usually don't think very rationally where she's concerned."

"She's my mom, Max," Liz said tensely. "If I want to invite her over for barbecue on 4th of July, I should be able to. Your dad is coming. Why can't my mom?"

Max looked up from wiping the plate, his gaze questioning if she had gone crazy, "Because every time you see her she makes you feel like crap."

"Dad just left her!"

"And that means that she's gonna treat you any better?"

The dishwater sloshed around in the sink as Liz practically threw another plate into the water. "She's all alone. She can't be all alone when everybody's celebrating."

Max grabbed the wet plate from her hand as she held it out for him. "She's a grown woman. I'm sure she can deal."

"How do you think she feels? Dad left her for her secretary. Some floozy 25-year-old." Focusing on the washing up, she mumbled under her breath, "But you probably don't have any idea how it feels like to be compared to and left for another person."

Max stepped up close, looking at her walled-off profile. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Liz pushed the dripping wet wine glass into Max's unprepared hands and the glass was merely saved from a smashing death by Max's quick reflexes.

"It means that you've always been on the other side. You've always had girls at your beck and call-"

"You think I would leave you for some blonde bimbo?" Max asked in disbelief, anger seeping deeply into his voice.

She sighed. "I didn't say that."

"Right," he said with an air of mock casualness, "You're just saying that because I used to fool around a lot it means that I can't understand that your mom is hurting right now."

Liz opened her mouth to retaliate, but closed it soon thereafter when she failed to disagree. "Well... yeah."

Max rather violently ripped open the door to the kitchen cabinet and placed the wine glass with its kind, grumbling under his breath. "Then you're missing the point."

"The point is that I want to invite my mom for 4th of July. It's as simple as that."

Max turned towards her, sighing demonstratively as he accepted another wet plate from her hands. "I understand that she's hurting. I get that she might feel alone this holiday. But what happened to hating her and the endless nights you've cried yourself to sleep over something she said? She doesn't deserve your sympathy right now, Liz."

Liz turned, soapy water dripping on the floor as her hands hung suspended in the air, while she watched him put the now dry plate away. "I'm her daughter. She's hurting. I should be there for her."

He turned to look at her annoyed. "She doesn't deserve it. That's all I'm saying."

Liz squeezed her eyes tightly shut before facing the sink anew and drowning the cutlery in the water. Starting to wash them one by one, she said, "Don't you think Zoe has the right to get to know her own grandmother?"

Max raised an eyebrow that spelled out 'Are you kidding me?'. "So that she can screw up our daughter as well?"

The fork landed on the dish rack with a loud clatter. "Oh, so you think I'm screwed up?"