The Wilson Mooney Box Set

by Gretchen de La O

  She pulled away, catching her breath before she whispered, “I love you so much.”

  “I love you too,” I whispered back. I could see her damp eyes glistening from the glow of the moon off the snow. “Let’s go home,” I said.

  She nodded slightly before she leaned back in her seat. I put the car in gear and dropped my hand into her lap, waiting for her to take and hold it; and of course, she did.

  ~ Wilson ~

  Being with Max again was like finding home. He made every shitty thing I did, every immature and insecure moment of my life disappear. I wish I could say the same thing about Nancy. I am so scared to see her. I didn’t think I could handle the look on her face when I walked through the door. I was afraid she’d be disappointed in me, no matter what Max said. I wasn’t ready to lose everything Nancy had given me.

  It wasn’t the card she gave me or the food she picked out for my birthday that truly mattered. It was her gentle touch when she welcomed me and her warm compassion that filled her eyes when she looked at me. It was the love she planted in the gaping holes Candi left in my soul. I didn’t know if I was ready to see it all disappear.

  Max held my hand the whole way down the twisting and curvy driveway to the cabin. My heart felt like it was going to crash through my chest and break every rib. My throat was like a desert, and no matter how much I tried to swallow, I just couldn’t keep it from going dry. By the time we reached the garage I had worked myself up again.

  I can’t handle Nancy hating me. I find it hard to believe she will be able to forgive me easily. She just buried her husband, and now she going to have to face the girl who ran away because things got too heavy. Urrghh, what would J do? What words of wisdom would tumble from her lips to settle the frickin’ storm that’s raging in my body. She’d probably tell me to suck it up, face the consequences, and move on. And she’d be right. If I’m going to make this work with Max, I need to face Nancy and hope that she will be as forgiving as Max says she is.

  “You okay?” Max asked. I didn’t even notice that he’d turned off the car and the garage door had shut us in.

  “Yeah…I think so,” I murmured.

  He tossed his door open and sprang up out of the driver’s side. As the door slammed shut a sheet of thick, cold air raked across my skin. I watched him as he strode around the front of his car; his eyes never left mine. It was his way of silently telling me that everything was going to be alright. When he pulled open my door I shivered.

  “Are you cold?” Max asked as I clutched his waiting hand.

  “Yeah, that’s it…I’m just cold,” I replied, trying to convince myself.

  I stepped out of the car and wasn’t prepared for the reaction my body had to being in the morgue-chilled garage. The bone-freezing cold evoked memories of the moments we had together. The flashes of pain on his face as he told me about Dead Mallory. The feelings that shattered every cell in my body as I told him to be strong for his family. The look he gave me when he asked if he could be my family. My stomach twisted and ached, my heart thundered in my chest, and I struggled to catch my breath.

  Max pulled me into his torso, his firm strong arms wrapping tight around my back as he rested his chin gently across the top of my head. I worked to take a deep breath. His aroma filled my body as he held me and swayed slightly, my body snug against his. Could I just stay here for the rest of the night? This time it was Max giving me strength to go in and face his family.

  “Are you ready? Not that I’m in a hurry or anything. I can hold you like this forever.” I felt Max’s chin rub across the top of my head as he spoke. With my ear pressed tight against his chest his voice reverberated through his body. When he tried to pull away I just held him tighter.

  He readjusted his arms around my back and kissed the top of my head. His breath draped across my scalp, sending chills radiating down my spine.

  “Take your time,” he whispered. His heart beat a rhythm I got lost in. I pushed him back against the car and stretched up to kiss him, my lips inches from his, our eyes tangled in a mesmerizing moment. Just then I heard the spring on the garage door lengthen and creak.

  “You brought her back. Wilson, you came back.” I heard Camille’s voice crack as she spoke.

  “Um-hum,” Max whispered as he stared into my eyes and continued, “she came home…with me.”

  I swallowed the lump that grew in the back of my throat before I turned to Camille. Her muddy brown eyes were sunken, dark, and lost. She looked like she hadn’t slept in months. Her once tidy brown hair dangled without the help of a comb.

  “Hi,” I choked in a whisper.

  “Hi,” Camille answered as she held her arms out to hug me. I slipped right into them and she pulled me into a tight embrace. “God, I am so glad you came back,” she sighed across my ear.

  I nodded my head without saying anything. I could feel the pressure of wanting to bawl creep into my chest.

  “Me too,” I murmured.

  I felt Camille’s body become rigid and her voice wavered as she continued. “Mom’s been asking about you, and Calvin wants—”

  “You know what? Wilson is pretty wiped out. Why don’t we talk about this later?” Max interrupted as he constricted his eyes and tilted his head in a manner which amounted to a wordless conversation with his sister.

  “Oh, right, I’m sorry,” she said low. An awkward moment settled between us before she noticed Max’s throat.

  “What the heck happened to your neck?”

  Max pulled on the collar of his winter coat as he answered her. “Nothin’.”

  “What the hell?” Camille demanded as she grabbed Max’s hands and pulled them down to look at the cuts and scrapes across his knuckles.

  I stood there, frozen, waiting for Max to give some more details about what happened between him and Nick.

  “I got into a small tussle,” Max said shrugging his shoulders. Camille spun around and looked me over from head to toe.

  “With who?” she demanded.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Max answered her.

  Camille looked over to me determinedly and waited for me to snitch on Max.

  Max noticed and shook his head. “Now listen, Camille, there’s no story here. I’m fine, Wilson’s fine, leave it at that.”

  I could tell she held herself responsible for protecting her brother. Like she was the one he would tell everything to. She was uncomfortable accepting that fact that Max wasn’t going to give her any information about what happened.

  “Well, when mom sees you she’s gonna flip-out. Don’t you think she’s been through enough without seeing you all torn up?”

  “No worries, I’ll handle mom. How’s she doing, by the way?” Max asked.

  “Doing okay, every now and then it hits her that dad is gone, but she’s glad everyone has left and it’s just us. She actually wants to cook tonight. I’ve tried to tell her she doesn’t have to, but she is insisting on making dinner.”

  “Well, whatever makes her feel normal. Just let her do it. Where’s Cal?” Max asked.

  “He’s upstairs in Dad’s office,” Camille said dryly.

  “What’s Calvin doing in Dad’s office?” Max’s voice deepened.

  “Looking for some papers the lawyers need,” she said, irritated.

  “Right now? Couldn’t it wait?”

  “It’s Calvin, who knows,” Camille answered flippantly.

  When I heard them mention their brother’s name it made every muscle in my body constrict. Suddenly chunks of resentment for Calvin curdled in my gut. It was his fault we’d gotten into this mess in the first place. Max noticed the change in my body language. Okay, well, yeah, how could he not? Let’s just say my body was screaming.

  “You know what, Camille? It doesn’t matter, really. Why don’t you go on in? Wilson and I will be right behind you.” Max opened the door to the kitchen and pushed on his sister’s shoulder. She resisted for a moment before it clicked for her that Max wanted to be alone with me.

/>   Camille caught my gaze right before the door shut between us. I tried to smile, but I just couldn’t. Seconds later I felt Max wrap his arms around my body, his warmth consuming me as he pressed his chest against mine. It was like he was trying to reassure me that he wasn’t going to let me go ever again. Max’s breath tickled across my hair as he took a couple of deep breaths. His hands, firmly planted on the small of my back, loosened as he pressed and rubbed his palms up either side of my spine.

  “You okay?” Max whispered. I tried to answer him but couldn’t find the words. All I could do was press my face deeper into the bend of his neck. He leaned in so his chin draped and rested softly against my head.

  “Hmmm?” he purred. I could feel his voice rumble in his chest and through his throat.

  I shook my head up and down.

  “Wilson, listen,” he said as he pulled me away and looked me in the eyes. “We don’t have to lie to my family any more. We don’t have to live in the fear of being discovered, ever again. As hard as it was to lose you, I’m glad my family knows now.” His eyes dampened just enough to cause them to glow in the fluorescent light of the garage.

  “So you and Calvin made peace?” His brother’s name sliced my esophagus as I spoke it.

  “I was…oh, man, I was pissed. But, we had to deal with the death of our father and the pain in our mother’s face every time she looked at us. So we talked, and yelled, and talked some more before we both found a way to forgive each other. No, I can’t be mad at him; besides, he felt like shit afterwards.” Max pressed his lips to my forehead.

  I closed my eyes and felt the warm tears track down the surface of my glacial cheeks. “God, I know how that feels,” I choked.

  Max pulled away from my forehead. His natural green eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tightened, and his lips were pulled across his perfect white teeth. His ears crested red around the edges. I could tell I struck a chord deep within him.

  “What does that mean?” he growled.

  The blood in my face flushed down into my neck and every last drop of saliva dissolved in the back of my throat.

  “I know how it feels to make a huge mistake. How incredibly stupid choices tend to hurt the people we love the most.” I lowered my head. I couldn’t look at him.

  “Well, sometimes stupid choices are the only things that make us realize where we truly belong,” Max said as his fingers pushed under my chin, bringing my eyes to meet his.

  “Yeah, but you had to resign because of me. How is that going to make you feel when you go back and see that you gave up your career for me?” My voice quivered.

  Max tilted his head, his eyes wide with surprise and glowing with shock. His lips curved, loaded with every word he was ready to fire back at me. We faced each other for a silent moment before he bit his bottom lip and unloaded every thought he must have played over and over in his mind.

  “I didn’t quit my job because of you, Wilson. I quit my job for us. I resigned because giving up the one thing that makes my life worth living wasn’t an option. I am completely aware and understand the repercussions of my actions and I’m ready to live with them. I know being with you was ethically wrong. I know when people at Wesley find out I will have to live with their fucked-up judgment of me for the rest of my life. But, Wilson, in my heart, in—my—soul, I know we’re right; this is perfectly right.” Max grabbed my hands and pushed them against his chest. His heart was thundering against his sternum.

  “I just don’t want you to resent me,” I managed to breathe.

  “How can I resent the one person who I love more than anything?” Max whispered.

  “Anything?” I asked.

  “Anything,” he answered as he wrapped his arms around me and swooped in, pressing his lips against mine. His mouth was so sweet, so needed, and so perfectly and completely mine.

  ~ Max ~

  “You ready?” I said quickly before I ran my hands down Wilson’s arms to her biceps, clenching them as I leaned in and kissed her forehead.

  “Yeah, I’m ready. As long as I have you next to me.”

  I smiled at her, tugging every muscle in my face toward the ceiling before I opened the door to the kitchen. The spring made the same high-pitched, annoying squeak my father would always complain about when we’d come home. Huh, funny how one day it’s just an annoying squeak and the next it’s one of the most comforting sounds I could hear.

  I was glad when I pulled Wilson into the house and nobody bombarded us. As a matter of fact, the house seemed quieter than usual. I didn’t call out to my family. I just kept looking back at Wilson to make sure she was still breathing.

  After the door shut, she stopped and our hands broke apart. She smiled as she looked down at her feet. Habits die hard; no matter how new they are. I chuckled. I knew she wanted to take off her boots.

  I bent down, ready to pick up her foot when I heard hurried footsteps approaching from the dining room. I recognized them; they were my mom’s. 4…3…2…1, she shuffled around the corner. She was still swathed in her black mourning dress but her hair was up and her black shoes were replaced with my dad’s leather slippers. She looked so vulnerable.

  “Hi, Ma, look who I got to come back home with me,” I said as I held my arms out presenting my girlfriend. I looked back at Wilson just in time to see the smile drop from her face. Her eyes grew wide, loaded with fear, like she’d just seen the most terrifying accident. Her chin wrinkled as it began to dance under her pursed lips. Her cheeks turned red as tears started to run down her face.

  They both stood on either side of me, just a few feet apart but they read like miles. I looked back at my mom, who was mirroring Wilson’s same reaction. Her green eyes were perimetered by red lids. Her cheeks were deep set, her lips pouting just like they did when I’d disappoint her as a kid. She looked older, worn, and exhausted, like she was alone in the world.

  I couldn’t tell if I was going to see them hug or break out into a fight. I pulled Wilson closer and wrapped my arms around her while I pressed my lips against the curve of her ear.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” I whispered, making sure to sneak a whiff of the sweet aroma of her coconut shampoo.

  When I let go of her the absence of her body in my embrace chilled me to the core. I turned to my mom and gave her a hug, telling her the same thing I told Wilson.

  “Mom, everything is okay, right?”

  The two most important women in my life and neither of them acknowledged my words. It was like they struggled to find the ability to start a dialogue. So I started it for them.

  “Mom, Wilson, I want you to know—”

  “Maxi, can you give me a moment alone with Wilson?” My mom suddenly found her voice. I, on the other hand, lost mine.

  “Ummm,” I hummed as I looked back at my girlfriend, hoping to find an answer to give my mom. Wilson looked at me for a moment before giving me a slight nod yes. I leaned over, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and whispered against her skin, “I’ll be right here in the kitchen.”

  She nodded and her clouded blue eyes disappeared behind an extended blink. “Thanks,” she managed to mumble back.

  With that, I turned and looked at my mom and saw the woman who battled for me…my whole life; the same woman who, when I was a kid, would always kiss my skinned knees and wipe away my tears. It was that woman who took on my dad when I decided to go to college to be a teacher and who struggled every day to help me when I came back home after Mallory’s suicide. There was no doubt in my mind, when I looked at her, she knew her boundaries. Or at least I hoped so.

  I felt her hand press and rub across my shoulder as she and Wilson shuffled passed me into the dining room. I watched as the two women I love more than anything in the world left me alone in the kitchen.

  I pulled open the fridge and looked at the overflowing shelves. It was more of a habit than the desire to eat. Nothing looked good. I really just wanted to know what was being said out in the dining room. I wanted to be there, standing between b
oth of them as their words bounced and toggled back and forth. Is my mom going to be fair in her conversation with Wilson? Or will she damage Wilson’s confidence more than it already is?

  “It’s the same shit that was in there yesterday. Do you think staring at it will change that?” Calvin said as he plopped a stack of papers on the counter between us.

  “Nope. What’s that?” I really didn’t feel like creating small talk with Calvin, but right then I’d take anything I could get to keep my mind off of what was going on in the other room.

  “Well, I guess a couple of weeks ago Dad met with Gary Browne.”

  “His lawyer?”

  “Yeah. Gary called and needs the business contract Dad had with Buck Tanner.”

  “Dad’s business advisor?”

  “Yeah, he was supposed to supply this year’s financials and any addendums Tanner & Trait may have made to their contract between the beginning of September through present day. My guess is that Dad suspected Buck wasn’t working for his best interests.”

  “Buck Tanner?”

  “The one and only Buck Tanner,” Calvin droned.

  “The same Buck Tanner that has been Dad’s business advisor for over twenty years?” I questioned.

  “Yeah, Max, the same Buck Tanner. I think the Buck-meister hasn’t been as honest as we all thought.” Calvin hoisted himself onto the barstool across the counter between us and spun the papers around, pointing to a spot he’d highlighted in bright yellow.

  I read it, moving my lips as my eyes consumed the words that assured Buckman Tanner, of Tanner and Trait Associates, fifteen percent of my father’s business. It was dated Friday, December 24th.

  I grabbed the papers and thumbed through to the last page, looking for my dad’s signature. “He didn’t sign it, did he?” Every walloping beat of my heart thrust the fight or flight urge deeper into my gut. “He didn’t initial the page, right? Tell me he was smarter than that!” I said hurriedly and breathlessly as I felt the acid churn in my stomach. Then the blood drained from my face as I recognized his signature at the bottom of the page. As I looked up at Calvin, his expression told me everything. We were defeated; the man we trusted had somehow swindled fifteen percent of my family’s business from my father.