Make It Right

by Megan Erickson

  He rolled his eyes and encircled her waist with his hands. With a grunt, he deposited her back onto her side of the car. “Happy?”

  “I think so.”

  He started the car and then waited.

  “Why aren’t you driving?” she asked.

  He nodded at her seat. “Put your seat belt on.”

  “Meooorrww!” Wayne echoed.

  “See, he agrees with me.”

  Lea buckled her seat belt and then looked at Max expectantly.

  Once they pulled out onto the highway, Lea hid her smile behind her hand. “Max?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  He growled.

  HALF AN HOUR later, Max turned onto a tree-lined street full of small ranch and split-level-style homes. He pulled into a driveway and a man on a ladder, fiddling with a light fixture over the garage door, turned around.

  Lea recognized Max’s dad instantly and her gut tightened.

  Crap, in the excitement to come home with Max, she hadn’t let herself think about this confrontation. Or how awkward it was going to be. She gripped the pie in her lap and willed her nerves to settle.

  She broke her eye contact with Max’s dad and turned to Max, opening her mouth to ask if she could stay in the truck. Or maybe ask him to drive her back home. Or maybe just shove him out and she’d hightail it out of there herself.

  But Max apparently could read minds, or at least emotions, because he held up his hand. “He wants to talk to you.”

  She bristled. “Well good for him, but last time—”

  “I know,” Max said wearily. “You know it’s just us, right? Dad and my brothers?”

  He didn’t tell her who was missing. He told her who was present. She didn’t miss that. “Yes,” she said quietly.

  “So Dad doesn’t have an excuse for being an asshole, but I just ask you to have a little patience with him.”

  She pressed her lips together. “I think I can do that.”

  “You feel uncomfortable for a second, just say the word, and we’ll go to your house.”

  A bubble of laughter burst between her lips. “Okay.”

  A knock startled her and she turned to her window to see Max’s dad’s lined face peering through the dirty glass. He motioned his finger in a circle, asking her to lower her window. Max gestured to the manual crank in the old truck and she turned it, lowering the window and letting in the chill air.

  She straightened her spine and met the man’s eyes. He had those gray-blues she remembered in a face lined with life. When those eyes met hers, something shifted and she finally got a glimpse of humanity.

  “Got off on the wrong foot,” he said through a tense jaw, and she knew this wasn’t something he did a lot. Do-overs. Apologies. Conversations. He reached a weathered hand into the truck above the half-lowered window. “Jack Payton. Call me Jack.”

  His voice was a rumble, like once it made it past all the crags on the way, it had lost a lot of its tone. She reached up and shook his hand. “Lea Travers.”

  “Teacher?”

  “Huh?”

  “You wanna teach?”

  She blinked at the question. “Yes, my major is education. I also want to get my master’s in library science.”

  He squinted his eyes at her, shifted them to Max behind her and then back to her. “Maybe you can find jobs near each other then.”

  “I—”

  “Sorry about that day at the shop.”

  This man really had crappy conversation skills. “Um . . .”

  He waved his hand. “Bad day and . . . yeah.” He tapped his hand on the side of the car and stepped back, his face closing down, signaling the end of the conversation. Lea had no idea what happened but she figured that was his peace offering.

  It was better than nothing.

  “Get her inside, Max, before Brent burns the house down.” And then he walked away, climbing back up the ladder to continue doing whatever he was doing to the light.

  She looked at Max and he shrugged. He grabbed Wayne’s crate out of the cab and propped a foil-covered casserole dish on his hip.

  “Hey, what’s that?”

  “My specialty,” Max said.

  “You’re not going to tell me?”

  “Nope.”

  When they walked by his father toward the front door, Max called, “Dad, Brent said he’d do that.”

  “Well I’m doing it,” he said without looking back.

  “You fall and break your neck, I don’t wanna hear bitching.” Max yelled.

  Jack mumbled something but Lea assumed it was cursing.

  Max opened the front door for her and ushered her inside.

  The curtains were drawn closed and Lea made out a hallway ahead of her, lined with dozens of crooked pictures. As she followed Max down the hall, she twisted her head to look at them, all shots of the boys in various sports uniforms and positions of mischief—climbing trees, jumping in lakes.

  There was no Jill.

  Only Jack and his three boys.

  The home reeked of masculinity. It was dark and could use a deep cleaning but was surprisingly clutter free. Lea wondered if Max had anything to do with making sure the place was clean for her visit. She knew Cal and Brent didn’t live at home.

  “Taste this. Am I the boss or what?” They heard as they stepped into the kitchen. The room was a mess, food and dishes everywhere. Cal and another man whom she assumed to be Brent stood beside a mixing bowl. Brent held his finger toward Cal’s face, a lump of mashed potatoes on the end.

  “If you think I’m licking that off your finger, you’re fucking crazy,” Cal said.

  Max clapped. “Hey.”

  Both boys looked toward them. Cal’s gaze zeroed in on her as Brent stuck his mashed potato covered finger in his own mouth. “Hey,” he mumbled around it.

  Max introduced Lea to his brothers and she greeted them. Brent eyed the crate. “What is that?”

  “Wayne,” Max answered, setting the crate on the floor.

  “Who’s Wayne?” Cal asked.

  “My cat.”

  “You have a cat?” Brent craned his neck over the center island.

  Max opened the front of the crate, but Wayne didn’t venture out.

  “I’m not sure I believe there’s a cat in there,” Cal said.

  “I’m telling you—“”

  “Meeeeeoooorrrrrrwww,” came the battle cry and then a streak of black flew out of the crate and took off down a hallway.

  Cal jumped back, covering his face with his arms while Brent cowered behind him, gripping his shoulders.

  Max laughed. “Dudes, calm down.”

  Brent peered from around Cal’s shoulder. “What the hell was that thing, a bear?”

  “I told you I had a cat.”

  Cal glared at him. “If that thing eats my face in my sleep, I’ll never forgive you.”

  Max waved a hand and set the crate by the back door. “Oh, he’s harmless. Probably sleeping on my bed right now.”

  Neither brother looked appeased.

  “How’s the food coming?” Max asked leaning on the counter.

  Brent straightened and returned to his place by the mixing bowl. “Cal won’t try my mashed potatoes.”

  “I didn’t say I wouldn’t try them, I’m just not sucking them off your finger, dickbag.”

  “Then get a spoon!”

  Max swiped his finger in the bowl and tasted the mashed potatoes. “More salt.”

  Brent whirled on him. “What? No. No way.”

  Cal pulled a spoon out of a drawer, made to dip it into the mixing bowl, then paused. He looked at Lea. “Here, you be the judge.”

  She took the spoon from him and then scooped out a mouthful of potatoes. She stuck the spoon in her mouth. They were good, maybe a little thick, but fluffy and buttery. She placed the spoon on the counter and realized all three boys were staring at her expectantly, with baited breath, like she held the key to the meaning of life. “They taste great.
Just the right amount of salt,” she declared. Brent whooped and Max grinned despite her disagreeing with him.

  Cal rolled his eyes and went back to the sink.

  Brent hummed happily and began dishing the mashed potatoes into a slow cooker.

  “I thought they were done, why are you putting them in there?” Max asked.

  “Keeps ’em warm and fluffy. I saw it on TV.”

  Lea turned to Max. “Do you guys always cook Thanksgiving dinner?”

  Max poked at a bag of rolls. “We used to go to our grandparents’ and then they passed away. We’ve only cooked at the house here the last couple of years. We’re getting better every year though.”

  “Hey, my turkey was amazing the first year. It was you dumbasses that screwed up everything else.”

  “I disagree with that. My stuffing was amazing.” Max puffed out his chest.

  Cal turned and stared at him thoughtfully. “Okay, I’ll give you that.” He turned to Lea and winked. “Max makes a mean stuffing.”

  She smiled at Cal. “I’m looking forward to eating it.”

  Cal returned her smile. “Glad you’re here to eat it.”

  She turned to Max. “Is that what’s in your dish? Stuffing?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s really not that secretive of a dish to make on Thanksgiving.”

  “I know. I just like to keep you guessing.”

  CAL ENDED UP not burning down the deck when he fried the turkey. Max gleefully showed her the burn marks on the old wood where the flame and oil had gotten a little out of control. Cal glared at him, and Jack marked to be thankful the house hadn’t burned down and so that had been the end of that.

  During dinner, Jack was quiet while Brent chattered the most to Max about the shop and about girls and Lea listened, but really, she enjoyed a full house.

  She’d thought Max’s family was so different from hers and it was, because it was noisy and full of deep voices and curses. But she realized that, at the core, they all cared about each other. So in that respect, his family was just like hers.

  Afterward, they sat in the living room watching football. Max helped her cut the pie and they delivered it to the other guys on paper plates with scoops of vanilla ice cream they’d found wedged in the freezer.

  Jack probably ate half the pie himself and patted her shoulder, his hand heavy and calloused. “Good pie there, sweetheart.”

  And Max had stared at her, eyes wide, mouth. full of pie, open in shock.

  When Jack left the room so use the bathroom, he leaned in to her. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him use that word.”

  Lea took a sip of milk she insisted on pouring. Because apple pie was always served with milk. “Does he date?”

  Max wrinkled his nose. “Ew.”

  “Well—”

  Max held his hand up. “Please, just stop.” He fake gagged and she rolled her eyes.

  “Do you have a girlfriend, Brent?”

  “Huh?” His mouth full of ice cream.

  “Girlfriend? Boyfriend?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I like girls and no, no girlfriend. Cal and I like to keep our options open.”

  Cal, who’d been intent on the game whipped his head to his younger brother. “Speak for yourself!”

  “What?”

  He shrugged and turned back to the game. “You don’t know everything about my life.”

  “Whoa oh oh!” Max cried, hand over his mouth. “Cal’s been keeping a secret!”

  “We live together, dude!” Brent sat up in his recliner. “How the hell do I not know you have a girl?”

  Cal shrugged.

  “That’s all you’re gonna do? Shrug?” Brent exaggerated raising his shoulders in a mocking gesture.

  Cal smiled and picked at the label on his beer bottle.

  “Bullshit, man,” Brent said, flinging himself back in the recliner. “Gotta go find a new wingman.”

  “What’s the hollering about?” Jack said, walking back into the room and taking his seat in the other recliner.

  “Cal’s got a girl or something.”

  Jack’s eyes narrowed on his oldest son, and Lea squirmed because those eyes were knowing. Then they shifted to Max, and then to her, where they lingered.

  Finally, he turned to the TV and lifted his beer to his lips, taking a swig. When he lowered the bottle, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t mess it up if it’s important.”

  He spoke like a man who knew what he was talking about, and his sons must have known, because they all went quiet.

  And then Max looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He smiled and placed his hand on her thigh, palm up. She twined her fingers with his and smiled back. She rested her head on his shoulder and they watched the game with his family, while Wayne’s broken purr sounded on the couch beside them.

  Chapter 25

  MAX STRETCHED HIS legs in front of him as far as the bleachers would allow and braced his arms behind him on the metal bench.

  Kat looked up at the blazing sun behind wide sunglasses and fanned herself with the graduation program. “I should have put on suntan lotion,” she grumbled.

  Max picked at his shirt, wafting it away from his sticky skin. “It’s hot as hell, and I’m hungover.”

  Kat grinned at him. “I know, I’m kind of enjoying your pain.”

  He bumped her with his shoulder. The stadium was packed, full of friends and family of the graduates. Music from the university orchestra drifted through the speakers and Max took a gulp of his bottled water, squinting his eyes at the sun. He drifted his eyes to the sea of empty chairs on the field below.

  He wished he was in the gymnasium of the rec center right now, sweating in his gown, blowing the tassel of his cap out of his face, laughing with Cam and Alec.

  Shooting Lea heated looks.

  But he knew when he changed his major that this would be his consequence. He managed to load up on classwork during the spring semester and was taking classes over the summer. So in the fall, he could student teach and if all went well, he’d graduate in December. Only a semester behind.

  It wasn’t so bad. He’d keep Kat company during her last year. He’d support her in a way he hadn’t when he was her boyfriend.

  “Zuk’s probably pissed the cap is messing up his hair,” Max said.

  Kat laughed and pulled a lock of her hair over her shoulder, rolling it between her fingers. “I don’t think he wanted to admit it, but yes. He grumbled a lot when he put it on.”

  Max smirked. Alec was probably hungover, too. And Cam. Last night was a little bit of a blur for Max. They’d gone to Hot Spot last night, drunk way too many mind erasers, sung drunken karaoke and then . . . well . . . the mind erasers kicked in.

  He was pretty sure Lea had to undress him like a baby while he tried to grab her boobs.

  God, he loved her.

  He turned to Kat. “It’s awesome Zuk is going to be close for law school.”

  Kat twisted the program in her hands and her lips turned down. “Yeah.”

  Her low tone bugged Max. “What’s wrong?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing, it’s fine.”

  Max leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “Okay, no you’re not, what’s up?”

  She turned her head and he could see the faint outline of her eyes through her shades. “You always let me get away with saying ‘it’s fine.’ ”

  “I’m not that guy anymore.”

  A small smile. “I guess not.”

  “So . . .”

  She picked at the skirt of her sundress. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just nervous. I know he loves me and wants to be with me, but it’s scary to think of him on another campus, with all these pretty girls with massive brains and . . .” She blew out a breath and then shoved her shades onto the top of he head. Her blue eyes shone crystal clear as she bit her lip. “I’m being dumb, aren’t I?”

  Max would always care about Kat. She was a great girl, a beautiful
girl, but they weren’t right together. She and Zuk? A perfect pair.

  He shook his head. “Nope, not dumb, babe. Never dumb.”

  She smiled, her lip popping out from between her teeth.

  “You’re what he wants,” Max said. “He’s going to miss you like crazy and he won’t be far away. You can visit each other all the time. Zuk’s as faithful as they come. You know that.”

  “I don’t think he’s gonna—“

  Max cut her off. “I know you don’t. I’m just saying. He doesn’t even look at anyone else.”

  She shifted her lips back and forth. Then launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m glad I get one more semester with you.”

  Max hesitated, then dipped his nose into her citrus-scented hair and hugged her back. “Me too.”

  She squeezed and then pulled away and he let her go. “So proud of you, Max,” she said.

  He tugged the end of her hair. “Proud of you, too, babe.”

  They separated as a voice over the loudspeakers welcomed the crowd to the spring Bowler University graduation and then asked the murmuring crowd to welcome the graduating class.

  More than six hundred students shuffled in, and Max assumed Alec and Cam weren’t the only hungover ones.

  They filed in alphabetically, so first they saw Danica, who wore high platform wedge shoes and lavender hair. Then Cam, who shot Max the middle finger, because he was classy like that. Kat squealed when Alec came into view and took rapid fire pictures on her phone. Max suggested she switch over to video and then she proceeded to narrate Alec’s progress into her phone speaker along with the video.

  Max spotted Lea easily because of her unique walk and watched as she scanned the crowd. He’d told her where he’d be sitting and he wore his Cross Keys Bowling shirt, so when he stood up and waved his hands, she waved back and blew him a kiss.

  Max zoned out during the speeches while Kat listened intently, nodding along to the dean’s reading of some inspirational poem. But after a while, she grew bored too and began playing some game on her phone.

  They whooped loudly when their friends’ names were called and they walked across the stage to receive their diplomas.

  And at the end of graduation, when they turned their tassels and threw their caps in the air, Max smiled. Because that’d be him in less than a year, as long as he played his cards right.