Max and I found Nancy in the great room—we saw her before she saw us. She looked battered and broken. Her war had been lost and the casualties were piling up. Camille was burdened with the inability to comfort anyone. Nobody seemed to know what to do. And, with an uncomfortable pregnant pause, we stood there awkwardly waiting to find what words we should say until Nancy saw Max.
“Oh, Maxi.” Nancy clung to him and her body began to shake against his embrace. Max pushed his face toward the ceiling, desperate to keep from losing it as he held his crying mother.
“Do you want me to call Rabbi Shaw?” Max managed his words as they shattered and broke against his tears. His eyes lowered to me and a deep ache stabbed at my gut before he melted my heart.
Nancy nodded; words were too much work for her. Camille swung her arms around the two of them, making their moment that much more private.
Max took a few deep breaths and shook his head back and forth before he pulled away from his mom and sister.
“Did you get ahold of Calvin?” Max asked his sister.
“Yeah, I did. Max, he’s devastated that you didn’t call him sooner,” Camille warned him.
“Well, considering the circumstances—is he flying in today?” Max was terse.
I knew how Calvin felt. Hell, I knew it so well; I could’ve traded places with him and he wouldn’t have known the difference. I knew the loneliness and abandonment that flooded every crevice in his soul. I was familiar with the gaping holes crawling with poisonous guilt, and the sucker punch that took his breath away.
“He’s trying to get here as fast as he can. He said he will call when he has a flight.” Camille held back her tears.
“What about Dan?” Max asked. He was so focused on plans and plotting, I think it helped him avoid the crippling pain of losing his father. He rubbed his hand across his mom’s back, who was unable to take part in the conversation. Nancy just stood there, unmoved and completely lost.
“He’s on his way.” Camille avoided looking at anyone.
“I’ll call Rabbi Shaw. You gonna be okay?” Max asked his mom.
Nancy nodded yes. The strength she once had, the iron core assurance she exuded, was nothing more than a broken memory.
“Camille…” Max summoned her as he pointed to his mother. Camille swarmed Nancy into an embrace and pulled her to the couch. Max grabbed my hands and pulled me close to him. His mouth against my ear, he spoke softly, “Come with me; I’m gonna need you.” I followed him.
Max sailed through the kitchen like he was on autopilot, determined to land a damaged plane and desperate to save all the ill-fated passengers. There was no asking him how he was or what he needed me to do. So I stood there, ready to pick him up off the floor when the engines gave out and the plane became wreckage against a white, snow-capped mountain. It was the only thing I could do.
Max handled himself with strength and resolve on the phone with the Rabbi for over an hour. Of course it was only one side of the conversation I heard, but from what I could gather, it was very important to the family that they bury Frank as soon as possible. Max mentioned someone called a shomer being with his father’s body, and they wanted to make sure no autopsy was performed. Words I’d never heard him speak, and would be totally foolish to try and pronounce, were sprinkled and splashed throughout the conversation. The Hebrew rolled off Max’s tongue as easy as water flowing down a wide, deep river.
“Toda, Rabbi Shaw, and shalom,” Max murmured at the end.
He hung up the phone and stared at me from across the kitchen. Pale as a ghost, his expression worn, his emotions translucent—the plane was about to hit the mountain. Even the massive butcher block and black granite island couldn’t keep me from rushing to him.
His breathing was shallow; it came and went so fast. His body was capable only of folding as he tried to catch himself and stop from losing it. I reached him in time to be something warm to cling to. I was nothing more than a rock to grasp in his family’s quarry of broken dreams, and that’s exactly what he needed me to be.
I heard the front door slam shut, then Nancy gasping and Camille whimpering Dan’s name before she stuttered her words and crumbled into a sob.
I pressed against Max as our bodies swayed toward the opposite door. Maybe somewhere deep within I knew he needed a moment to collect himself before he saw Dan. Or maybe it was my need to protect him that drove me to push him into the morgue-chilled garage. Either way, I finally understood how Joanie was able to be strong for me when my grandparents died. Something just clicks inside of you and you forget your pain to help heal someone else's.
“Take a minute, Max. Organize your thoughts before you have to go in there and talk your family,” I whispered against him. My hands clung to the sides of his face as he bent his head low. His fists hung on my hips as we leaned against his car. He nodded silently.
With his worn eyes casing my face, I saw his realization that he needed to be strong for the family he had left. In less than twenty-four hours, he’d became the rock of his family; the pilot light everyone looked at to fuel their flames.
“I didn’t want to break Calvin’s heart. I messed up, Wilson. I should have called him the minute…” His breathing began to speed.
“Max, look at me.” I pulled at his chin, making him raise his head. I didn’t want him to lose it before he had to talk to his family. “You did the best you knew how in the situation you were dealt. Your brother will understand.”
“He never got his chance to make peace.”
Max crumbled then. His weight was forceful as his body trembled and pressed against mine, waiting for me to save him. I stood there getting drenched in his tears. God, I wished I could have absorbed all of his pain as his body melted into me. My words couldn’t change the demons that swelled when he thought about Calvin and his father’s death. So I held him as tight as I could, past the point where my arms weakened and began to quake. Max pushed me hard against the car, his face buried in the crevice of my neck. I could barely understand the words he muttered against my skin. He was chanting—a constant hum that seemed to comfort him, even as his world crashed down. His tear-soaked lips pressed against my skin as his hands clamped forcefully across my back.
“Max, sweetheart, that hurts,” I whimpered as I dropped my shoulder and dragged my hands up under his to break his hold. I needed to pull him back from that dark, swampy moment because he was starting to scare me.
“I’m sorry,” Max said as he lifted his weight from my body and turned to leave.
“Wait,” I yelled before I grabbed his arm. “I know how much you’re hurting, and it sucks. There is nothing anyone can do to make it go away. But you still have a family out there and they need you. They need you, Max, whether you like it or not.” I pushed my hand against his chest.
His head dropped and his hair avalanched forward, creating a midnight-black curtain to block his face. I knew he didn’t want to be the one to bear the burden of healing his family.
“What if I can’t?” his words tumbled from his pouty frown. I felt a cold, harsh pain creep into my body; the same feeling that I stuffed and hid deep within me when I lost my grandmother.
Before I could think, I was telling my story.
“When my grandma died, I found my grandfather slumped in his closet, drenched from sobbing. He was cursing God for taking his love from him; his reason for living. I stood over him, not knowing how to help. But I knew at that moment I couldn’t let him go through her death alone. Something inside me clicked and I wouldn’t allow myself to cry for her, not until he was done.”
Max pushed his hand to the tears that trailed my cheeks. I continued.
“I didn’t allow the thought of never seeing her again enter my mind. Not until I knew my grandfather was going to be okay. I knew I’d have a chance to cry later. The day he sent me back to school, I broke down on Joanie’s bed—for two days Joanie took care of me. Max, I’m here for you. Your family is here for you, but you gotta be here for t
hem too. You can do this.”
I pushed his slinky black hair back from his swollen, lost green eyes. His nose flared and his lips drooped before he pulled them into a stoic line. I leaned in, parted my lips, and kissed him. He slipped his arms around me and pulled my body tight against his.
“I love you,” his words tickled across my lips.
“I love you too,” I whispered.
I was exactly where I wanted to be. I loved him so much, more than any moment or event could ever render. He was my air, my water, my blood pumping through my veins. I gave him every hidden spoke in my wheel. Every little thing that meant anything to me was nothing compared to him. To see him in so much pain cracked my soul.
Max caught my hair in his hands and pushed it off my face before he stared into my eyes. “I wish I was there for you when your grandfather died. I’m sorry you were all alone,” Max murmured before he kissed my cheek.
“I had Joanie; she really had to hold me together. I only hope that I am half the friend to her that she is to me.”
“You are. Joanie is lucky to have you.”
“And I am lucky to have her. She’s the only family I have left.”
Max knew she wasn’t related to me by blood or marriage, but Joanie and I didn’t need that; we were found family. A family we made by conscious choice.
“Well, do you think you could find some room for someone else in your tight-knit family?” Max gave me a timid smile.
“Depends,” I said before I smiled back at him. OMG. If he knew Joanie and I had my big Goldstein wedding day planned out, colors and all, he’d probably be scared shitless.
“Really? On what?” Max asked.
“On how that person treats his family.”
“Sooo, that’s my cue to go and take care of my family, then.” Max pulled away from me. He slid his fingers down my arm, tickling my wrist before holding my hand; even squeezing it a couple of times before pulling me out of the garage.
“Only if you feel ready,” I added.
“I’m ready to help my family.”
He took a deep breath as we made our way through the kitchen and into the great room.
Nancy was sitting on the couch; Dan stood in front of Camille, who was comforting her mom. I heard Max take a deep breath and watched his shoulders bounce as he worked out how to approach them.
“Dan, really glad you made it,” Max offered as he stood awkwardly next to him and shook his hand.
“How are you? I don’t know how—I’m just shocked. So sorry I wasn’t here,” Dan choked. Camille stood up and wrapped her arms around Dan’s waist.
“We are so glad you’re here now. Camille really needs you,” Max said as his hand reached back to find me. When I stretched and caught his grip, he pulled me against his back. My arms slid around his stomach as I hugged him from behind, then he swung his arm around me and brought me forward.
“You remember Wilson?” Max asked.
“Of course, nice to see you again. Though I wish it was under different circumstances,” Dan said as he leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek.
“Me too. Sorry for your loss,” I whispered against his ear before he pulled away.
Max tightened his grip across my bicep and rested his lips against the side of my head. Maybe it was his way of salvaging the strength he needed to proceed.
“I spoke to the Rabbi. He asked if the shomar that he sent for Dad showed up. I thanked him for doing that. He said he would order the casket and arrange a cleansing if we wanted him to. He’s available tonight and tomorrow morning, first thing. I told him we had to wait for Calvin to get here, hopefully sometime tomorrow,” Max rambled.
The family clung to his every word as they tumbled from his mouth.
“Was he concerned with Dad not being buried within twenty-four hours?” Camille asked.
“No, he actually wanted to know if we wanted to cleanse Dad and shroud him before Calvin got here.”
“Max, I don’t think I can do that—Mom?” Camille whined. Nancy shook her head as Camille began to sob again. Dan pulled her into his chest.
“I asked the Rabbi if he had another person in place, just in case we couldn’t handle seeing Dad…you know. He said he and the shomar would take care of it.” Max began to stand strong; his body language showed me his growing confidence.
I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket but I didn’t answer it. Max continued to tell his family details of what should be happening and when things needed to be handled. My phone vibrated again. This time I checked it and saw three texts from Joanie.
WHATS GOIN ON?
HAVNT HEARD FROM U.
CALL ME ASAP.
As I scrolled through them, I wished relief would have draped my body, like a reprieve from a nightmare when you wake up. I wanted Joanie’s texts to give me a moment to breathe deeply again, but they didn’t. I waited for the right pause in the conversation to tell Max I was going to his room for a second to call her back. He narrowed his eyes and gave me a confident nod. I snuck out of the room and made my way upstairs. He continued engaging his family without missing a beat.
I figured I could give Joanie a quick call, tell her what was going on with Max’s dad, and I would be back downstairs before he missed me.
When I opened his bedroom door I was thrust right back in the memory of us together last night—how he felt as he pressed against me, how he made me feel like I was the only person in the world, our bodies molding into one as he electrified every cell of my being. I pushed the door shut, brushed the memories of us together last night to the back of my mind, and dialed J’s number.
Joanie’s phone didn’t seem to ring even once before she answered it.
“Hi, Wilson,” she answered out of breath.
“Hi, J. You okay?”
“Yeah, just got back from jogging with my sister,” she panted.
“How’s So-Cal?” I asked.
“Oh, well you know my parents—same old, same old. What the heck have you been up to? I’m sorry I didn’t call you on your birthday; I assumed Max was giving you your birthday present? I want details. Wait, not too many details,” Joanie rambled and chuckled.
“Oh my God, J, it has been one hell of a rollercoaster ride out here—”
“Rollercoaster? What’s going on?” Joanie interrupted.
“J, I’ve wanted to call you—Max’s dad died yesterday,” I said quietly to avoid crying.
“Holy shit—on your birthday—what happened?” Joanie interjected.
“He had a heart attack,” I said.
“Oh God, I am so sorry—how are you holding up?” Joanie murmured.
“I’m okay, but everything has happened so fast—with the helicopter ride from hell, the limo make-out session, and Frank’s heart attack—I can’t believe we did it twice. I don’t know, maybe we shouldn’t have…” I rambled as the pressure built in the empty cavity of my chest.
“Wait! Hold on, back it up—did I hear what I think I heard?” Joanie rapidly fired her words at me.
“Max’s dad having a heart attack on my birthday? Of all days…”
“No—I’m sorry to hear about his dad, but that wasn’t it,” Joanie said.
“The helicopter ride from hell?” I asked.
“No, and it wasn’t the make-out limo ride either,” Joanie stated.
“Oh, you’re talking about Max and me, uh—being together,” I whispered, as my cheeks flushed beet red.
“Yeah, that’s it. Oh my God, Wilson, you guys did it!” Joanie screeched.
“Ssshhh. Hey, let’s keep it on the down-low. I don’t want your family to know about it.”
“Don’t worry, Wilson, I’m alone. Everyone’s downstairs playing Pictionary.”
“Oh, I miss playing Pictionary with your family.” I felt my heart twinge with sadness.
“Oh for Christ’s sake, Wilson, come on—I’d give up my family to be with the guy of my dreams. So? Come on, I need details,” Joanie pushed.
“Well…it d
idn’t hurt as bad as I thought it was going to. And the second time in the shower—”
Joanie squealed.
I continued, “At first I was nervous, so I was tense, but as soon as he—you know—and we started to—you know, I relaxed and it was totally amazing.”
“Oh my God, Wilson, oh my God—and in the shower,” Joanie kept repeating.
“I KNOW, I KNOW,” I said as my excitement built on hers.
“Was it perfect or what?” Joanie said.
“Oh, J, it was more than perfect. He was unbelievable. And oh my God, I just gotta say, today in the shower, was incredible. But, J, I’m totally starting to feel like crap. His dad just died and I’m all happy—something in me says maybe we should have waited for a better time.” I felt the excitement simmer to disappointment.
“Wilson, come on. You and Max shared something so special and intimate. If you waited for the perfect time it would have never happened. It was the right time. Don’t ever second guess that.”
“But—”
“Did you want to be with him?”
“Yes.”
“And did he want to be with you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then it was the perfect time.”
“I know, but his dad just died,” I whispered insistently
“Don’t you dare I know—but this situation. He loves you; you love him. It was right,” Joanie lectured me.
“Okay,” I answered.
“How is he doing?” Joanie asked.
“He’s doing the best he knows how to. Gosh, being Jewish he has a ton of things his family must do. He’s a bit overwhelmed, but holding it together—somewhat,” I volunteered.
“Wilson, how are you?” Joanie asked.
“I’m super tired but I’m doing okay. Wait, Max is coming up the stairs. Let me call ya back later?” I said.
“No problem. Please tell Max I’m thinking about him. And Wilson? You’d better call me back—tonight,” Joanie ordered.
“I will, I promise—love ya, J,” I said.
The Wilson Mooney Box Set Page 43
