M.
From: Max Davis
Sent: December 9, 2012
To: Claudia Fisher
Subject: Did I offend?
Claudia:
Haven’t heard from you in a while, so I wanted to check in. I know you’re super busy, so don’t feel like you have to write back, but I’m afraid I may have pissed you off with my last message. Forget I asked about you & Nick. It really is none of my business.
Still your friend,
Max
From: Claudia Fisher
Sent: December 10, 2012
To: Max Davis
Subject: Honeybear:
A brief story: my father, as I’m guessing you’ve gathered from what Benji has told you, could be — let’s say — cantankerous. Not all the time. But he was a man used to having his way, and he didn’t like more people than he did because he thought most of them were silly and inconsequential and getting in the way. Those are his words, and it’s always astounded me that a man who wrote with such understanding would ever think of anyone as inconsequential. In other words, it was difficult to imagine him calling anyone “honeybear.” But once in a while, when he was feeling tender (or maybe when he was simply tired and his defenses were down) you’d hear him come out with it. I got a C in algebra. Benji fell off his bike. Actually, I think he said it more often to Benji, though Benji would never admit to that. It adds too much shading to the stick monster he’s made Daddy out to be. But that’s a story for another day. I tell you all of this to say that I am my father’s daughter and that the word “honeybear” comes no easier to me than it did to him. I think I’ve said it one time, to Oliver, maybe, after he stubbed his toe. So know that you didn’t piss me off. I have, in fact, been busy. (And I’m only halfway through those exams!) But that’s no excuse to go MIA. I’ll do better.
XO,
C.
From: Max Davis
Sent: December 13, 2012
To: Claudia Fisher
Subject: Save me!
Navi is working all this week because the DSO is doing a 5-day marathon of Handel’s Messiah. Blah. So rather than having the apartment to myself all day & really getting down to work, I decided to spend the week visiting my parents. Seal the peace deal, I thought. It’s been one day! One day & I’ve pulled half my hair out. Give her a topic, any topic, it’s like her arrows are aimed at it before I open my mouth. I’m living in Dallas. I’m living with Navi. I’m gay. I’m broke (which, by the way, I’m not). I’m a walking target. Why didn’t I go to Alluvia? Or to visit you? It’s my own fault for coming here. I’ve made my bed, now I pluck myself bald in it. Hope the papers are off your desk — or on their way…
Love,
Max
From: Claudia Fisher
Sent: December 16, 2012
To: Max Davis
Subject: It’s complicated
Max:
I never did answer your question about Nick. You probably thought not answering was my answer. If I’m going to be honest with you — and I want to be honest with you — I’ll say that things between Nick and me are complicated. I know better than to burden you with too many details. Barriers exist between parents and their children — at least they should — and though I can’t claim I know where they are, I do know that I want to respect them. Nick is my client. He’s paying me to do a job for him. But Nick was my first love. We were together for 7 years, which at the time seemed like forever. But forever means one thing when you’re 15, and something else entirely when you’re 42. For all I know Nick’s already told you this and more while you were out riding ATVs… the birds and the bees talk must be on the checklist.
Claudia
From: Max Davis
Sent: December 18, 2012
To: Claudia Fisher
Subject: Do you realize…
… in your last message you referred to yourself as my parent for the first time? I’m writing from Plano, Texas. Navi & I decided to make a quick visit to his parents, who just moved back to the States to be closer to him. They’re good parents. Plano has one of the largest populations of Indians in the country, though don’t ask me why they picked Plano. I’ve seen more of Texas than I ever wanted to. I tell Navi why don’t we pack up & go to New York. We could have an apartment there & I could write & we’d be close to so much music. Think of the music! It would be a world better than being stuck in Dallas, but then he says that’s fine for me, but what would he do, he can’t transfer into the philharmonic like he’s switching offices at AT&T. I’ve nearly finished the first act of my opera — I told you I was moving fast. I worry maybe too fast, but I’m not about to stop to see if I’m right. Another thing Beethoven said: “Don’t only practice your art, but force your way into its secrets.” All I want to do is wall up with a case of Red Bull & write, write, write — you know that feeling when everything & everyone that’s not your work is a bother? But you can’t say fuck off, especially at Xmas, no matter how much you want to. Oh & before I forget, don’t worry about Nick — it’s too cold to ride ATVs & he doesn’t really talk about you. Much.
Your son,
Max
From: Claudia Fisher
Sent: December 20, 2012
To: Max Davis
Subject: Keep working!
Max:
That’s too bad about Plano. But I know what you mean. We’re at Oliver’s parents, and, yes, I understand the compulsion to tell them all to fuck off so I can get back to my work. The thing is they absolutely would fuck off if I told them to. Oliver’s not exactly a doormat, but if you mistake him for one, sometimes you don’t have to look far to see where he gets it from. His parents are warm, harmless people, but what does it say when the nicest thing you can say about someone is that she’s harmless? They treat me like I’m queen of the castle, but even the queen gets sick of being the queen.
I’m sorry this is so short today. But the troops are off shopping and I have a rare moment to work uninterrupted. I don’t have a crystal ball, but I can see a pair of flannel pajamas in my future.
XO,
Claudia
From: Max Davis
Sent: December 22, 2012
To: Claudia Fisher
Subject: Alive in VT?
Happy (almost) Xmas to you & Oliver & Mr. & Mrs. Harmless. I talked to Benji yesterday. I’m sure he did, but did he tell you that he passed up the chance for an audition? I was, like, what about your career & he said what career? Do you think he’s okay? He’s going to stay with Cat & help her with her teaching. I probably shouldn’t say it, but I have this fantasy that one day you & Benji & I will live in NYC together. Don’t worry. Not in the same apartment. Lol.
From: Claudia Davis
Sent: December 25, 2012
To: Max Davis
Subject: Merry, merry
Here I am — alive — in my Land’s End pajamas, thinking of you. Merry, merry, sweet boy. And a wonderful new year.