Max stood with a group of men drinking beer. On the outside, he was composed and his usual self, but on the inside he was furious.
I went to help her!He shook his head.And she refused me.
Women didn’t refuse Max.
At least that’s how he remembered looking for women in his younger years before he was married.
Is this what I’m doing?He swallowed hard.I can look and have fun.Nothing more. Not after how his ex-wife, Pam Richie, had burnt him.Bitch. And that was nearly eight years ago now. A ten-year marriage, down the drain, childless and costing him almost his arm and leg to finalise the divorce.
“Ya did well with the ladies today,” Nick commented.
Max looked up from gazing at the ground. His mind whirled from his internal thoughts to what Nick had said. All he’d done today was aggravate a very sassy woman who he wished he could see again. Even though there was no sign that anything could happen between them.
“You pretty much cleaned out the competition,” said Sam, a fellow competitor from up North. His family life was treating him well, and Max had jealously observed his belly getting bigger each year from his wife’s great cooking.
Max shrugged his shoulders. That’s what they were talking about. His cows. And they had outperformed his prize bull, which he wasn’t sure he was happy about or not. He would have to have a talk to Godzilla about letting the ladies show him up. He got the prizes he wasn’t desperate to get. Max couldn’t help thinking it was a little like his life, the women he found himself with weren’t always what he was hoping for. Like Zoe. With her city style clothing, sassy grin, and edgy confidence. He gripped his beer tighter, wanting the coolness from the glass to reduce the rising heat within him.
“Argh, ya too hard on yourself, mate.” Nick laughed. “Anyone would be glowing and be bragging about champion and reserve champion cow.”
“Don’t forget Grand Champion too,” added Sam.
“Oh, yeah. What’s wrong, Max? Normally you’d be rubbing it in.”
Max coughed as if hurt by their comments. He knew they were jesting. “Hey, what can I say, I’m standing next to the breeder of the stud bull at the show.”
“You’re mellowing with age, mate.” Sam spoke with a big grin on his face.
“What, you want me to gloat?”
“It’s a bit weird without it, I must say,” Nick answered.
“You didn’t do too bad either, Sam.”
“Naah, but not as good as you two blokes.” He raised his beer. “To a successful show.”
“Cheers.” Both Max and Nick raised their mugs of beer and clinked glasses, the amber liquid sloshing over the edge. They all drained the mugs.
“Another round?” asked Max.
“You’re not feeling right are ya?” Nick winked at him handing over his empty mug.
Max shifted uneasily. He thought he was keeping how he was feeling to himself. Missing out on a ribbon with Godzilla he would get over, but Zoe was another matter.
Who wore a dress to the show?Her legs were long, shapely and something he could run his hands up and down for hours.
“Hey, don’t say anything, we should milk it while it lasts.” Sam nudged Nick, and both men laughed.
“Don’t push it. Otherwise, I might not get this round.”
“There we have the Max we know so well coming out. Now I feel more at ease.” Sam laughed.
Max mumbled under his breath, “Fuck off.”
“Yep, there’s the ol’ Max we know so well, grumpy and aggressive. Like an old bull who hasn’t been allowed a cow for ten years.”
Max bit his tongue as he turned from his mates. The comment was too close to the bone for his liking.
“Good one, Sam.”
