The Wilson Mooney Box Set

by Gretchen de La O

  “Love ya too. Hang in there,” Joanie sang as she hung up the phone right away, leaving me waiting to hear her tell me to stay strong. I slipped my phone in my pocket and busied myself with putting my clothes away in Max’s dresser.

  The bedroom door crept open and Max slipped into his room. He looked dog tired and done. His eyes were red and glossy and the muscles in his jaw kept flexing sporadically. His demeanor was heavy and I could tell he just needed to take a nap. I stopped folding one of my shirts and watched him meander across the room.

  “I’m sorry but I need to lie down—just for twenty minutes or so. The Vaughn’s are downstairs; I just couldn’t stay down there,” Max mumbled as he wandered to the bed and fell back. He rolled to his side, pulled his feet up off the floor, and stretched his arm out toward me.

  I put my shirt in his drawer before I leaned onto the bed and reached out to him. As I lay next to him, staring into his eyes, I saw a smile begin to creep across his face.

  “You finished putting your clothes in my dresser?”

  “Yeah, I hope that’s okay.”

  “It’s good,” he mumbled.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Now I am,” he whispered as he inched his body closer to mine.

  “I’m sorry I left you downstairs.”

  “That’s okay, I knew you needed a moment. How’s Joanie?”

  “She texted me like three times; I was worried it was serious. She just wanted to know how my birthday went. I told her about us—you know,” I said as my cheeks flushed red.

  “Did you tell her everything?” Max adjusted and rested his head on the heel of his hand.

  “Well, not every little detail, but she knows we did it twice, and I kinda told her where we did it,” I murmured. “You’re not mad, are you?” I sighed. I gave him my best puppy dog eyes, trying to make what I did okay.

  “No, I’m not mad. Come on, Wilson, she’s your best friend and I know better than to believe girls don’t kiss and tell,” he said before he smiled and leaned over, bonking his forehead against mine.

  “But you really told her about us doing it in the shower?” His face flushed red right below his eyes, as his lips curved slightly north.

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Well, you told her how good I was, right?”

  “Sure,” I mused.

  “And how much you love me, right?” he smiled.

  “Absolutely,” I answered.

  “And how we just can’t get enough of each other?”

  “Max—I think she knows that already.”

  “Okay,” he said before kissing me delicately on the lips. “Then I won’t be mad,” he continued as he inhaled a huge yawn.

  “You’re tired. You should be taking a nap,” I tapped my finger between his eyes.

  “If I could just get my brain to stop swirling and thinking about things, maybe I’d fall asleep,” he sighed.

  “Would it help if we talked about it?” I adjusted my body and propped myself up with my elbow, wedging the heel of my hand behind my ear.

  “I don’t know. I’m just so confused, like this whole thing is a dream; that my dad isn’t really—gone, he’s just on a business trip or something. Does that make sense? I want him to come barreling through the door and tell me it was all just a fucked-up joke. But he isn’t going to, and tomorrow, when Calvin gets here, I’m going to have to relive everything all over again. I don’t know if I’m ready to do that.” Max’s face became stoic as his eyes glossed.

  I slid my free hand up around his ear, and with my thumb, dried the tears that had begun to puddle against the curve of his nose. I felt my heart gallop and my own eyes dampen as he turned and pressed his lips into the palm of my hand.

  “I totally understand how you feel. Believe me, it’s hard—maybe one of the hardest things you’ll ever do in your life. But you’ll get through it. For your mom and your sister, and for Calvin.” I felt a tear tickle and roll down my cheek.

  “And I’ll make it through because you’re here with me,” he whispered.

  I nodded. I couldn’t speak and my face began to tighten. Max noticed and pulled me against his chest. He pressed his lips to my cheek before he closed his eyes. I tightened my arms around him, lowered my head under his chin, and listened to his heartbeat lull me to sleep.

  I sat up so fast my head spun. My mind was fuzzy, and for a fleeting moment, I didn’t realize where I was or that it was even morning. I remember tucking my head under Max’s chin last night and then I was out. I must have slept like a rock.

  My diaphragm forced me to take a deep, wobbly breath before I noticed the only company I had was the gleam of the sun’s rays illuminating the dust particles dancing across the room. Max must have gone downstairs to be with his family. I flipped the brown throw blanket down off my body—I’d slept in my clothes. Funny, nothing was unbuttoned or out of place; what a gentleman.

  I inhaled, closed my eyes, and leaned back on the bed, replaying in my mind every memorable moment with Max. How delicately he brushed his fingers across my skin, how softly his lips consumed my entire body, how his tongue pulsated against every sensual space of my body, and how he made love to me. I thought about his passionate emerald eyes and how wickedly hot he made me feel when he studied me. I felt every moment of us smolder under my skin, rekindling the desire I had to be with him over and over again. It was like, no matter how much he’d possess of me, I could always find room to give him more.

  I leaned over and looked at the clock—it was 9:55, almost 10:00. I’d never slept in that late, ever. I twisted and kicked my legs to get up, feeling the need to change my stale clothes and head downstairs; I’d lingered in Max’s room long enough. He was already downstairs, probably dealing with some heavy emotional stuff from his mom and sister. I pulled off the shirt and jeans I had on and snagged the black Hollister button-up sweater and beige jeans that Max had bought me a couple weeks ago. I liked the way he couldn’t keep his eyes off me when I wore them.

  I was pulling on my second black poufy sock when I heard the front door slam and then a scramble of loud voices in an elevated banter. I heard Nancy start crying and Max call out Calvin’s name. Thank God, Calvin had arrived and the family was finally together.

  I scurried into the bathroom, ran a toothbrush over my teeth, and combed my hair back into a loose ponytail. I figured I could at least freshen up a bit by getting the hair out of my eyes and keeping my morning dragon-breath at bay.

  I hurried downstairs, wanting to join Max and his family, when I was stopped in my tracks; I started to realize the conversations between Calvin and his brother weren’t an exchange of happiness or comfort. I froze on the stairs and listened, hearing harsh words filled with anger and pain. Calvin’s voice scraped heavily against the walls as he spoke and I heard Max trying to collect Calvin’s vitriol and shape it into something comforting.

  “I’m so sorry, Calvin,” Max said.

  “Yeah? A bit fucking late for that. It doesn’t feel very good being a God-damned afterthought in this family. Why is that? Why am I always the afterthought?” Calvin’s voice rose.

  “You’re not an afterthought. Listen, everything happened so fast…” Max tried to explain.

  “Save your shitty excuses. It doesn’t take that long to dial me on your phone,” Calvin spat.

  “Actually, Calvin, he asked me to call you. I just kept crying every time I tried.” Camille strained to fix the broken moment between Max and Calvin.

  “That’s bullshit. You all got a chance to say goodbye and I got nothing. Just like always.”

  “Nobody got a chance to say goodbye. Come on, Cal, there’s no need for—” I heard Max trying to reason with Calvin.

  “No need for what, Max? No need to listen to me? Or how everyone thinks I’m just the fucking joke in this family?” Calvin’s voice wavered before the slight moment of silence was broken by Calvin continuing, “Fuck it, your number just came up—Mom, did Max tell you about his new girlfriend?�
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  “Cal, I know you’re pissed off at me, but don’t say something you’re going to regret. So why don’t you just stop right there,” Max warned.

  “Why don’t we just come out with it, Max?” Calvin yelled.

  “Come out with what? What is he talking about, Maxi?” I heard Nancy ask.

  “Nothin’, Mom,” Max spat.

  “What is Cal talking about?” Camille asked.

  “Oh it’s even better than I thought. You have the wool pulled over everyone’s eyes; you’ve lied to the whole family,” Cal said.

  “Lied about what?” Nancy and Camille asked in unison.

  “Nothing, Cal, don’t fuck this up for me,” Max growled.

  “Maxi!” Nancy scolded.

  “His new girlfriend is a student,” Cal said.

  “I know, Wilson’s still in college,” Nancy answered.

  “Don’t do this, Cal,” Max groused.

  “No, Mom. Wilson isn’t in college—she’s a senior in high school.”

  “What?” Nancy said, confused by Calvin’s statement.

  “She’s a student in Max’s government class,” Calvin delivered the final blow.

  My stomach bounced in my gut and my heart did a kamikaze down into the swirling acids. What did Calvin just do? Our lie—she knows I lied to her. Oh my God, she will hate me forever.

  “Maxi?” Nancy questioned.

  “What the hell, Max?” Camille piped up.

  “Hurts, doesn’t it? Not the golden boy everyone thinks you are,” Calvin steamed.

  “That’s enough, Calvin. Maxi, is this true?” Nancy whispered.

  “Ma, it’s not like that, I…” Max began to explain.

  “Max—yes or no. Is what Calvin’s saying true?” Nancy pushed.

  “Go on, tell her. Live under the microscope like I have my entire life,” Calvin spewed.

  “Cal, I said that was enough. Now you and Camille need to give us a moment—alone,” Nancy said.

  “I can’t believe this. Wilson’s one of your students? What were you thinking?” Camille snapped.

  My heart thrashed harshly in my chest. I felt all of my blood rush down to my feet as my head swam with a cloudiness that bordered on losing consciousness. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t slow my breathing. I clung to the banister, hoping I wouldn’t lose my balance and fall down the eight or so steps left below me. I heard Calvin grumble as he ambled toward the kitchen. Why did Calvin feel he needed to do that?

  “Max, you still haven’t answered me—is Wilson one of your students?” Nancy’s voice rang across the great room.

  “Yes,” Max answered.

  A silence crowded the room for a never ending moment.

  “What the hell possessed you? Do you not understand the responsibility of your position?” Nancy barked.

  “Yeah, Ma I…” Max started.

  “Did you even consider the fact that nobody is going to let you explain yourself? They will look at you as this twenty-two year old man who took advantage of an innocent, seventeen year old girl,” Nancy fired at Max

  “She’s eighteen.”

  “Come on, Max—did the reputation of our family even cross your mind?” Nancy laid it on thick.

  I felt the dirty, filthy guilt of our being together as it crescendoed across every cell in my body. Suddenly, what we’d shared—what Max and I had—was nothing more than an inconvenient lapse in his judgment.

  “No, I guess not. I didn’t think who I fell in love with was anyone else’s business.”

  “Well, Max, it is. And contrary to my feelings about her, you know you can’t continue the relationship. Not right now,” Nancy said.

  “It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Max said.

  “Now listen, you have a responsibility to your career, to your family, and to that young girl. You lied to me—and you lied to your father.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore; it was horrifying that I added so much to Nancy’s already broken heart. I never meant for a lie to create so much damage. I felt the pain surge through my chest; my heart shattered into splinters saved for the worst heartbreak ever. My ears filled with the force of trying to hold back the tears that crowded my eyes. The fight for what I knew was something more than a crush—was over. My legs ached as I climbed the stairs to Max’s room. My body tensed and my trachea burned from the pressure of trying to hold back from sobbing. My mind replayed over and over again the words Nancy had said to Max. My lungs clung to the stale air that refused to leave as I attempted to exhale; no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t breathe deeply enough.

  I pushed Max’s bedroom door open, and all at once, every attempt to keep from breaking into a million pieces failed. I shut the door and sobbed against it—the only thing that separated me from my whole life. I wanted to scream. I wanted to kick the shit out of the circumstances that plucked the best moments of my life away from me. There was nothing justifiable about the universe letting me taste the sweetness of perfection before it viciously ripped it from my soul. I didn’t want to lose Max. I wanted to fight; to prove to Nancy that we belonged together. I wanted to tell her how different I really was, how right it felt to be with Max; but I couldn’t. How could I plead my case to a woman who’d just lost the love of her life and father of her children? There was nothing rational about us at that moment—I’d become the distraction Max shouldn’t have, and what I needed to do was disappear.

  Slipping my phone from my pocket, I scrolled through the stack of alphabetized names until I found the number of the only person I knew who’d come get me. I pressed on the name and held the phone to my damp cheek. I wished for more time before he answered too quickly. Wish in one hand and spit in the other…

  “Hey, stranger! Merry day after Christmas, and, well, happy belated birthday too,” Nick sang.

  “Nick—can—you—come—get me…?” I managed between spastic gasps for air.

  “Are you okay, Wilson? Where are you?”

  I took a huge breath and forced it out, trying to stop the uncontrollable rhythm to which my body was falling victim.

  “Ma—x’s hou—se,” my words were interrupted by hiccups.

  “Did he hurt you? He better not have laid a hand on you,” Nick’s words tumbled from his mouth.

  “No, ca—n you co—me get m—e?” I managed to ask again.

  “I’m on my way. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” His voice was hurried.

  “Thanks.”

  I hung up and took a cleansing breath. I was scared and relieved all at the same time. Scared to see Nancy’s disappointment burn across her expression, and scared to tell Max that I was leaving; but relieved that Nick was coming to get me.

  I snatched my suitcase from Max’s closet and scooped my clothes out of his dresser drawer. The time and energy I’d spent folding and putting them away left nothing but a bad taste in my mouth as I stuffed them into my suitcase. Funny how fast my actions changed when there was an escape route.

  I grabbed my makeup bag from his bathroom and tucked it into the top corner of my suitcase, then pulled on the handle and looked around one more time before I left behind some of the best memories of my life. I was reaching for the door when it flung open revealing Max, frozen by the vision of me leaving.

  “Wilson, what are you doing?” he questioned me, his emerald eyes constricted tightly as his lips fell to a downtrodden scowl.

  “I think…it’s for the best…that I leave…” I said, attempting to force out the words without crying. I could feel the pressure building high in my chest and my eyes welling with tears.

  “Wait—hold on, I don’t want you to leave. Stay here,” Max pleaded as he reached for my suitcase. I could see he was broken; stretched and pulled in different directions between his family and me.

  “Max, I heard—everything. It was never my intention to fall in love with you and your family through a lie. I can’t do it.” The bubble exploded in the back of my throat and the rush of keeping my cool dissolved.


  “Calvin shouldn’t—”

  “It isn’t—‘bout Calvin,” I interrupted.

  “My mom doesn’t—,” Max started.

  “It isn’t about her either,” I spat.

  “Then what is it about? Why are you leaving me?” Max demanded.

  “I just have to go. It’ll be better for you this way.”

  “I don’t want it better for me. I don’t want you to go,” Max pressed with his words. His eyes became moist, blazing with agony. His shoulders rose as he pushed his empty hands out to stop me. “Please, don’t go…”

  I couldn’t let him touch me. If I felt his warmth, I would dissolve in his embrace.

  I pushed my hands out to stop his touch. “I have to go—for me. Please understand. Take care of your family, Max. I love you,” I whispered as I looked down at the floor and walked past him.

  He reached for me and pulled at my sweater. As he caught me by my bicep I felt his heat scorch my skin. I froze, unable to continue down the hall; he wasn’t letting go. He pulled me back and turned me around. I spun to him, my hands balanced on his chest. I didn’t look up at him.

  “Wilson, don’t do this,” he whispered. I took a deep breath and lifted myself onto my tiptoes. My head rose and I met his salty, lost lips. I pressed against his mouth, my tears flooding down my cheeks meeting our goodbye kiss. He pushed for more, but I pulled away; a cold, damp chill poured into the space between us.

  “Goodbye, Max,” I choked as I turned and walked away from him.

  I felt Max’s eyes burning across my back. I knew he was watching me leave. I didn’t want to glance back, but I did. He looked shattered. I caused a huge wreck—one big enough to alter our worlds forever.

  I struggled with my suitcase as I worked to get it down the stairs. It carried the weight of every moment I wished I could pack away and toss into a blazing fire until it burnt to grey ashes. Calvin rushed around the corner and bolted up the stairs toward me, skipping every other stair. His expression was plastered with apologies. His eyes loomed dark from all the losses he’d experienced, not only in death but in life. Our eyes caught, and for a glimpse, I saw how much he regretted what he’d done. I muscled and maneuvered my suitcase past him before he could try and restore what was already damaged. I retrieved my boots from the rattan basket and pulled my jacket from the closet before I opened the front door and turned to look. Calvin was holding Max back, telling him to let me go. My eyes met Max’s, and through my tears, I watched him resign himself to the fact that I was really leaving. His body surrendered and he relinquished the struggle with Calvin, dropping his gaze to the floor. My chest ached, my arms weakened, and my legs dragged, heavy to leave. He stopped fighting for me. I pulled the massive wooden door shut, and with the sound of the latch closing, I was thrust back to the day when I was an abandoned little girl on my grandparents’ porch. Only this time, I was the one walking away.