He's The Goal

by Faith M Troyer

  I walk inside and down the hallway and see all of the lights are off. A beautiful soprano singing voice, obviously belonging to a female, begins to fill the quiet space— Goosebumps pebble along my neck and pepper my hairline. I walk into the darkened living room and see the back of Max’s head and silhouette of his broad shoulders, sitting on the couch. The TV’s lumination displays colors along the walls in a light purple as shadows from the flat screen dance on the walls. An olive-skinned woman with dark wavy hair and blue eyes is singing into a microphone as she sits gracefully on the grand piano corner. Her long legs are crossed delicately, hanging her cherry red pump from her toes as she gets lost in the song.

  There is no sign of Bianca. Max is alone, watching what looks like an old video recording from at least thirty years ago.

  I tiptoe to the other side of the sofa and see that Max has a bottle of whiskey in his lap, and it’s half-empty. My eyes hone in on the bottle, and my heart begins to race. This can’t be good.

  I take in a deep breath and sit down next to him. His eyes are bloodshot, red, and puffy, and I know he’s been crying for quite some time. I reach into my bag, retrieving my cell phone to check the time, and see Jack has texted me a few more times since I’ve been home. I didn’t want to answer while I was out with Monica and figured I’d just check them once I got home. Now it seems like an even worse time to be on my phone, but it could be significant. What if he was trying to tell me about Max? I tuck my phone into my side and discreetly pull down the menu screen and begin reading.

  Jack:

  Vada. I’m worried about Max. He called me crying this evening while you were out and told me about his mother. She passed away from cancer.

  She’s been estranged from the family since he was a kid when she left his dad. He never got to say goodbye. He’s a fucking mess right now, Vada. He won’t answer any of my calls. Please. Be gentle with him tonight. He needs you.

  It feels as though someone just plunged a knife into my chest and twisted it as hard as they could.

  I put my phone back in my bag and turn to face Max. He grits his teeth in anger as he takes another drink, lowering the bottle into his lap and wipes his mouth. He’s ignoring my presence, but I don’t mind. I need to grieve in private, and that’s what I’m sure Max needs right now.

  When my granny passed away, I needed at least a week by myself to process the reality and just how much different it would be without her. Still, even with fighting off the suggestions of having someone help me grieve, I wished that I would have just said yes. Processing a death can be a lonely business, and this is Max’s mother. Someone who he hasn’t seen or talked to since he was a kid. I can’t imagine how hard that has to feel, to lose a parent.

  I swallow back the melon-sized lump in the back of my throat and rise to stand, but feel his hand shooting out to grab mine. I don’t move, but instead, I let Max slowly pull me back down next to him.

  I don’t dare fight him, and I willingly come as he tucks me into his side. I put my hand on the left side of his chest and feel the hard pounding of his heart against my palm. The woman on the screen finishes the song, standing tall, and smiles sweetly to the audience, who lovingly adores her, and loud applause fills the room.

  I look up and see Max’s jaw quivering as he takes one more drink of the brown liquid that sloshes around in the glass bottle. He takes a shaky breath, smelling of stale liquor, and plants a kiss on the crown of my head.

  “That was my mother, Rochelle. She was a singer in New York City Way before she met my bastard father. She was gorgeous, wasn’t she?” he asks, his voice full of pain and anguish as he speaks.

  Max’s voice breaks as he says the word “gorgeous,” and so does my heart.

  I nod in agreement and watch again as he takes a long drink off the bottle this time, no sipping. His Adam's apple bobs with emotion as he swallows, and he chokes a little on the liquid. My heart skips a beat as I try to take the bottle from Max's hands, but he jerks it away and shakes his head. I don’t fight him and instead, just let it go. That’s the last thing I want to do is to make him even more upset when he’s barely ready to pick his own head up.

  “She called me a few months ago. I never told anyone, but she looked me up and wanted to talk.” Max takes one more drink from the bottle and continues to grit his teeth; his hand wrapped tightly around the neck of the bottle.

  “I said that she was too late. She had all of these years to get in touch with me, but she refused to. I was angry with her, Vada. I hated her for leaving me alone with Charlie.”

  I watch as Max’s massive frame shakes with unshed emotion, but I can tell he wants to shatter into a million pieces at my side.

  “My mom passed away from cancer, V. She died last night in the hospital, alone. She wanted to let me know that she was sick. She told me that she was angry with herself for years for leaving and wanted to make things right with me. For years, she tried to get in touch with Charlie to set up visitation with me, but the asshole kept me away on purpose to piss her off. I thought she never wanted anything to do with me ever again.”

  I lay my head against his pounding heart and press my lips against his chest. I’m not sure how to comfort him, and I hope he doesn't ask me to leave. Max was such a comfort to me in a few different emotional situations, but this takes the cake. He deserves to have all of the reassurance and love right now at this moment. I just hope that I’m doing a good enough job. I narrow my eyes to the bottle in Max’s hand and gently take it from his hand. His fingers slowly fall from the neck of the bottle, and Max hangs his head.

  “I used to watch this same performance on VHS, over and over again, when I was little. Charlie always said I was ‘too soft’ and ‘too feminine’ because I liked to watch my mom perform.”

  He takes another drink.

  “After I moved out, I had the video converted to a DVD and kept it. I didn’t think I’d ever watch it again..” his voice trails off and breaks into small, quiet sobs.

  I sniffle softly and wipe the tears from his cheeks and press my lips to his neck. Max’s body begins to shake from under my touch, and he cries on my shoulder. His heavy upper body sinks into my arms as a little boy would do, in need of comfort.

  I do my best to keep my own emotions at bay as I feel hot tears stream down the apples of my cheeks. I hold on to him and rub his back. We lay down, so I can hold him close to me as he buries his face into my chest and balls the soft fabric of my blouse in his fists.

  I let him cry it out. I allow Max to fall apart in my arms as he begins to process the news of his mother’s tragic, untimely death.

  “Her nurse said she was asking for me at the end.” His voice breaks off into loud, heart-wrenching cries of despair.

  I only hold Max closer to me, as I’m afraid his fragile heart can’t handle any more distance from anyone else. He’s close, tucked into my side as I continue to rub his back in small circles. There isn’t enough room on the couch for both of us, and I’m damn near falling off the edge, but I don’t care. I want Max to know I’m not going to leave his side, especially when he’s this vulnerable. Max lays on top of me, and I spread my legs a little farther to accommodate his large size. His breathing finally begins to slow and regulate, and he buries his head a little further into my breasts and takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly before lifting his chin to face me.

  His blue eyes are dark from crying; those thick eyelashes I love so much are soggy with tears, and my heart jerks with a painful thud in my chest. I use my thumb to wipe at his cheeks and cup his face.

  Max leans his head into my open hand and kisses the heel of my palm. Watching, he pulls his broken body a little further so that we’re chest to chest and leans down to kiss me.

  I sigh and gladly take what he has to offer, though I think it’s a little too soon. Still, I won’t tell Max what to do right now or what I believe is right. His entire world rocks suddenly, and I don’t know how to make it better, other than just being here for him.
He lays his head on my chest, and I find my fingers threading sweetly through his hair and quietly singing my favorite Scottish song that my granny used to sing to me when I was sad.

  There's many a bonnie lass in the Howe o Auchterless

  There's many a bonnie lass in the Garioch

  There's many a bonnie Jean in the streets of Aiberdeen

  But the floor o' them aw lyes in Fyvie-o

  Max’s eyes crinkle in the corners just slightly as he tries to smile. I rub his scratchy stubble with my thumbs and trace his bottom lip with my index finger. He closes his eyes, and I can tell he’s enjoying the simple touch, the loving warmth of my hand as it grazes sweetly over his chin and across his jawline.

  Reassurance is what he needs right now. He needs me to take him seriously and put his emotions into consideration.

  Max is so much more than I thought he was initially, and he showed me that by opening himself up to me, offering his heart in a sincere apology. He even went as far as to offer to pay for my schooling this term so I wouldn’t have to drop out. Now, I see Max opening himself up on a whole new level.

  But it’s different now, and he’s the one in pain. His emotions are on display for the world to see, and I can tell he’s uncomfortable but is trying to be strong for me. I press my lips to his forehead.

  “You don’t have to be strong right now, Maxwell. Now is not the time. You need to fall apart before you can rebuild, but I promise that I will not let you break. Remember, I’m your ‘soft place to land.’ Let me be that for you.”

  Max nods in agreement and kisses my cheek one more time before he stands up. He stretches his arms above his head, and I watch with wonder as his large biceps ripple with beauty and strength. Max offers me a hand, and I accept and quickly comes to a standing position, but he doesn't miss a beat and pulls me into his embrace and holds me close, rocking me slowly back and forth. I feel like I’m the one being comforted, but if this is what Max needs, I won’t say no.

  “Thank you,” he whispers and presses a warm kiss on my cheek. I wrap my arms around him a little tighter and give Max a gentle squeeze. In all my years of knowing Maxwell, I never dreamed of holding him or giving him any comfort at all. I never saw myself being that source of stability that he could count on in a crisis.

  The heater kicks on, making the thin walls and floor vibrate a little, and I can feel it reverberate under my feet like a heartbeat. I sigh softly and take Max’s hand. I’m not sure if he’ll cooperate with me or if he’ll just pull away and want to be alone. My heart races as I lead him to my bedroom, aware of his big hand in mine the entire time as we’re walking, and feel a thrill coursing through my body the longer Max holds my hand.

  I don’t want him to walk away or reject me, and I know that sounds selfish considering the circumstances. Still, he’s not the only one who has his guard down right now. My defenses are as low as they’ve ever been, and I want nothing more for Max to see this and accept it. I push the heavy oak door to my room open, and my eyes zero in on the messy unmade queen-sized bed in the corner. Chester is sleeping on my pillow, his favorite spot when I’m not there to snuggle next to him. Max’s deep chuckle resonates in the still quiet of my room, and I get goosebumps just from the sound alone.

  “He’s truly the king of the jungle,” Max says and scoops my cat from his napping spot.

  I smile as I watch Chester stretch his long body for a few seconds straight, then curl back into a ball in the arms of the most amazing man I’ve ever known. He kisses Chester on his furry little head before setting him down into the pile of clean, folded laundry inside of my wicker hamper, Chester’s third favorite napping spot.

  I lock eyes with Max again, and this time, I slowly pull him by his weathered-looking Henley and graze my lips against his stubbled cheek. The aftertaste of dried tears on his skin shatters my heart, and I remember that I need to take it slow with him. Compared to the other times that we’ve been in intimate situations in the past few weeks, none of these can compare to how we’re both feeling right now.

  “I’m sorry, I feel like I’ve lured you in here like some sort of seductress.” I look down and don’t meet his eyes, but only feel Max’s thumb and forefinger graze the underside of my chin as he tilts it up slowly so I can meet his eyes.

  I stare into those dark blue oceans and feel my heart rate increase as he peels his shirt from his body. The moonlight casts a shadow against his angular profile that plays softly against the walls of my bedroom. I follow suit and begin to undress, but leave my bra and panties on as I slide underneath the covers with Max at my side. I cuddle up next to him and wrap my leg around his and rest my head just over the left side of his chest.

  His big arms wrap around my shoulders, holding me close.

  Vada

  October 30th

  “So you guys didn’t seal the deal yet?” Monica asks as she stands inside of the small dressing room; a cheap velvet curtain is the only thing that separates us. We’re at the Brickell City Centre and decided to check out the costume store that is in town for only one more day. They set up shop in a vacant part of the store for the Halloween season, selling costumes, masks, special effects makeup, decorations, etc. Max invited both of us to the annual Halloween party that his hockey coach is throwing for the team. It’s going to be a huge party, and costumes are incredibly encouraged. Max won’t tell me what he’s going as. He says he wants it to be a surprise.

  I sigh in defeat and lean my head against the wall behind me, crossing my arms over my ample chest. I never thought I’d be the girl who was anxious to lose their virginity. I waited for so long that I could even join a nunnery. However, since discovering how talented Max’s hands and tongue are, I don’t think I’ll be able to make a lifelong commitment to being celibate. However, I feel weird about pressing Max to go any faster in the intimacy department. We’re not even officially dating, and no one has exchanged anything more than ‘I care for you’ or ‘you mean so much to me.’

  I’m not ready to tell the man that I’m head over heels in love with him, at least not yet.

  I know I mean a lot to him; I know he’s letting me in because a few days ago, we attended a small memorial service by the water, scattering his mother’s ashes into the ocean.

  I kept my arm around Max’s waist, held him close to me, and comforted him the best way I knew how. He held my hand the entire time, and I didn't dare let go. Maxwell introduced me to David for the first time and his two half brothers, Joseph and Caden. It was a little awkward, but he tried his best to make Max feel at ease.

  After the service ended, David even gave us his home address and an open dinner invitation anytime we liked. He and his boys live in Jacksonville, which is about fours away, but I told Max I would be happy to drive. If he’s willing to give us an olive branch, I’m going to make sure that Maxwell takes it. I blow out a frustrated breath of air from between my cheeks and stand up straight. I raise an eyebrow as I cock my head to the side and lean down further to see Monica is hopping around like a bunny.

  Suppressing a giggle, I push my hand to my mouth, but she hears my attempts to stay quiet.

  “Don’t laugh at me, Vada. Since they put that new taco truck across the street from work, I’ve gained ten pounds; it all went to my ass. Now I won’t get to be a sexy kitty for Halloween. Do I look fat? Be honest.”

  I roll my eyes and sneak inside of the small dressing room with her. The lighting is horrible here, and the little mirror they’ve provided is in desperate need of some Windex.

  Monica is, by definition, stunning. She's a tall, leggy bronzed goddess with a flat stomach and belly ring. A twinge of quiet anger courses through my veins when she asked me the ‘am I fat?’ question.

  “Name a guy that you know who complained about a girl’s ass that’s too big? Besides, you look great with curves.”

  She smiles sheepishly and begins to open another plastic package that reads “Sexy Mermaid.” I want to slap her silly for even thinking that she is even t
he slightest bit overweight.

  “And no, we haven’t ‘sealed the deal’ yet. I want to, but Max just lost his mom, and I’m not trying to be the little trollop that jumps his bones right after losing a loved one. That’s not how I roll.”

  Monica notices that I still haven’t brought anything into the dressing room for myself, even though I was supposed to be on the hunt for my costume. She looks me over and taps her chin, and her light brown eyes light up like a Christmas tree.

  “Sexy nurse!”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Sexy nurse! That should be your costume for the party! You’re going to school to be a registered nurse anyway, so it is fitting.”

  “And you’re going to college to be a graphic designer. Are there any ‘sexy graphic designers,’ costumes out there?”

  “Probably.” She gives me a placating look, juts her bottom lip out, and gives me her sad puppy eyes. This bitch and her damn puppy eyes.

  I swear Monica could rob a bank by just giving the bank teller her sweetest ‘please, I’m so broke, don’t you feel bad for me,’ puppy-dog-stare. They would just empty the vaults with no question and throw money to her.

  I sigh, defeated, and let her lead me out to the section for plus-size costumes. I consider myself to be a confident person, but that’s when it comes to school. I’m a book smart, bookworm, ace the test with no problem type; learning has always come easy.

  Though my body is a different story, I’m not fat, but I sure as hell don’t look like my best friend, as she bounces about the crowded store dressed in hot pants, a crop top, and kitty ears. I’ve always secretly envied her confidence. Monica is practically buzzing with excitement when she hands me a ridiculous Halloween costume that I’ve ever seen.