by Mariah Dietz
“She wouldn’t have left you, Max. She made it clear to me, and any guy that bothered to pay any attention to her. She was just freaking out. Not about being in a relationship with you, but fearing the future again. She got weird about that shit! You knew that! And you were so convinced that she was going to do the same shithole move your dad made that you refused to listen to any of us. You became your dad when you turned your back and wouldn’t listen.”
I watch his nostrils flare, and feel my own anger burn with the desire to punch him for multiple things that he’s just shared.
Instead, he continues on his rant. “You drink yourself stupid and are so ready to give up on your dreams, for what? Some cheap piece of ass that would have fucked both of us the first time she saw us.” He tilts his head and looks at me to see the weight of his words, and I work to keep my face cold and void of any emotion.
“Get a fucking clue, Miller!” he yells, slamming a hand against my chest before he turns and murmurs something incoherently. Wes heads back to his truck and climbs in without looking at me. He flips me the bird before peeling out of my driveway, and gunning it down the street.
I feel my heart beating in my head as I take a few deep breaths. My shoes connects with a movie, kicking it across the room so I can close the door.
“She’s a porn star?” Landon asks.
I turn to glare at him. This time he doesn’t back down. Instead, he takes a step closer to me. “Shit, dude, I hate to tell you this, but he’s right. I loved you before she was around, but I really can’t stand you most of the time now that she’s gone.” His eyes focus on my face for a few prolonged moments.
I have nothing to say. I can’t even think of a sarcastic retort.
“Max!”
I turned, hearing your voice, and saw your blond hair blow in the wind as you sprinted toward the field where I was finishing my workout. A smile covered your face and I knew before you were close enough for me to confirm it, that it was my smile.
My feet carried me to meet you without thought, and you barely slowed down before colliding against my chest, wrapping your arms and legs around me.
That had been a long weekend for Jameson and me after you both left town for a long weekend to celebrate Abby’s bachelorette party. You weren’t supposed to be home yet. I had gone to the track early so I would be home with plenty of time to shower and get things ready for you to come back. I’d been planning to get takeout from that small French restaurant you love. I had it all planned, but with your presence, those thoughts were a distant memory.
You pulled back just enough to kiss me with a need that was so strong it was palpable with your every move, from the way your hands fisted the back of my shirt to your thighs pressing against my sides, to the soft moans that echoed from you as I swiped my tongue along yours.
“God, I missed you.” Your words made my heart expand.
I set you down and ran both of my hands up your neck and into your hair, and pulled just slightly, to make your head fall back so I could look at you. I was craving to see the look in your eyes when you professed your need for me.
“I love you.” Your voice was quiet but intense, and your lips were parted, anticipating my kiss.
I wake up and lie in bed for a few moments and take some deep breaths trying to escape the image of her from my head.
Feeling slightly disoriented, I head down stairs. The others are all in the living room, watching a movie, because it’s already noon.
A few hours later, I stand from the couch and press pause, freezing the football game that Landon, Jameson, and I have segued to, and Kendall’s barely enduring as the doorbell rings.
“Hey, ask them for some pepper flakes this time,” Landon calls, throwing a pillow at me as I walk to the door.
I open the door and watch as it slowly widens, as if my instincts have affected time so I’ll absorb every single second of this moment.
Standing before me is an exact replica of Billy with an additional twenty-five years of life, drinking, and bar fights. I feel my shoulders square and my jaw flex.
“Max.”
I watch as his hand nervously rubs his left pant leg, and it pisses me off that the first thing it reminds me of is her, and her nervous habit of fidgeting.
“Dude, is that the pizza?” Jameson asks, coming behind me and opening the door wider—an annoying as hell habit that he never seems able to break. Jameson looks straight ahead, and then I feel his attention shift to me. “Holy shit. How in the hell …” he breathes.
“What’s going on?” I hear Kendall approaching.
“Um, who are you?” she asks bluntly, placing a hand on her hip as she looks at him with the bitchy demeanor that she has whenever she answers the door. I silently add it to the list of reasons I don’t mind her living here, not that I’d ever verbalize the list; it’s not extensive anyways.
“Hello? Do you speak? Are you deaf?” she asks, pointing to her ear.
“What are you doing here?” I demand, ignoring Kendall. But he’s staring at her like she’s a ghost, so distracted, I don’t think he’s hearing a damn word that I’m not certain yet if I care to waste my breath on.
“Dad!” I watch his head jolt back to me. “What in the hell are you doing here?”
“Dad?” Kendall not so quietly whispers in shock.
I watch his face crumple as he looks at me, his eyes running over my face, making me feel uncomfortable and anxious. A single tear rolls down his weathered cheek. “I wanted to say I’m sorry, and that I love you, Son.”
His words don’t serve to comfort or relieve me. They hurt. They remind me of David and his acceptance and compassion. They echo the loss of my own father, and how long it’s been since I’ve heard these words—the words I should have been hearing for the last thirteen years and haven’t. If there hadn’t been so many shocking moments over the last year, this might actually make me think I was dreaming. Granted, when I dream I don’t talk to my dad. I talk to her.
I slam the door in his face and stalk back to the kitchen, where I down two shots.
Hours later, my dad’s sitting on my couch, looking comfortable, like he does this every Sunday. The only thing that seems to have him on edge is Kendall, and I’m not certain if it’s because he thinks she’s hot, or what, but it makes me defensive.
“You look really familiar, Kendall. Do you have family in New Orleans?” His voice comes out with a twang that I don’t remember hearing.
“No, I have three sisters here, and another on the East Coast,” she admits the latter part quietly.
“Five girls?” He looks at her as if he’s trying to confirm something.
“Yup, five girls.”
“Maybe I met one of your parents at some point?” he suggests.
Kendall shrugs, not really seeming to find his line of questioning to be as strange as I do. She notifies him that she’ll be right back and disappears, returning with a framed picture that she brings to his side. Before I can think to tell myself not to look, I’m staring at a family photo of the Bosses from last spring. My eyes are focused on one person in the crowd of twelve, at the same dark brown eyes that I’ve startled myself awake seeing in my dreams. I squeeze my eyes shut and look the opposite way, but it’s too late. The image of her is burned into the back of my eyelids.
“Wow, you girls are all beautiful. I bet your poor dad had a hell of a time keeping the boys away.”
“Had?” Kendall asks.
I look over to see her eyebrows raised. I hadn’t even noticed the past term reference. Leave it to Kendall to do so. She can read into nearly anything. In my book it’s one of the strikes against her that I’m more than happy to vocalize.
“Well, you all look pretty grown-up. Parents only have so long to keep some things at bay,” he explains as he gives her the frame back.
“Like you’d know,” I quietly sneer.
“Do you have a place to stay?” Landon asks as he ties a garbage bag off and lifts it to take it out.
“Oh, I was going to go check into a hotel.”
“Stay. We’ve got room,” Landon offers.
My head turns to look at him. He ignores my every effort to catch his attention so I can show him my displeasure. Fucking hell, is he seriously inviting a man that I don’t even know from a perfect stranger to stay in our fucking house?
“I’d really like that. It would be great to get some time with my son.”
Fucking hell.
I spend the next few days working to avoid my dad, attending more classes than I have since I met Erin, and doing extra conditioning at the gym. I haven’t reached out to Wes, and he hasn’t made any attempt to contact me. I still don’t know what I think of everything he told me, ranging from the fact that she was the girl that he liked—another secret that she’d kept from me—to his clearly disgusted feelings about Erin, whom I have no intention of breaking things off with. I’m not going to create a false illusion in my head and say I want to marry her, but we’re both having a good time, and my dreams and thoughts are finally starting to minimize. I need her right now.
“Babe, did someone eat the rest of my soup?”
I shake my head, barely able to refrain myself from telling her that no one would ever intentionally eat her cabbage soup. That shit is nasty and smells worse than the time Jameson left his gym shoes in the car we eventually bought in Alaska for a weekend. The sun had baked the scent into the interior, creating a stench we never could erase.
My dad rounds the corner, freshly showered, with a smile that’s getting more familiar every day. He stops when he sees Erin. Fucking piece of shit really is into younger women.
“Oh you must be Tim! I’m Erin, Max’s girlfriend!”
The word girlfriend makes my lungs stop. Girlfriend? When in the hell did she become my girlfriend?
My attention flips back to my dad as he takes a step closer to her. My eyes narrow as I watch him, waiting for him to say something even slightly provocative so I can kick him out with a clear conscience. He shakes her hand and turns to look at me, his graying brow furrowing.
“Max’s girlfriend?” he repeats.
My jaw clenches as I feel a new wave of defensiveness rise in me. I don’t know what he’s even insinuating with his question, and before he says anything more, he turns back to face Erin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Erin.”
She smiles at him and then giggles before she steps over to me and smacks my shoulder. “You didn’t tell me he was staying here!”
I had, but it really doesn’t matter. I nod to my dad again. “Yeah, Erin, this is my dad, Tim.”
“You look a lot like your son, Ben.”
“Billy,” I correct her.
“Billy?” she asks, her eyebrows knitting together as her eyes drift toward the ceiling in thought as I nod.
“Billy, not Ben,” my dad patiently explains.
“Oh right!” She giggles once again and then sags into me. “Are you ready to go?”
“Where are you kids heading?” my dad asks, as though this is a standard routine question.
“We’re going to a party!” Her eyes gleam. “It’s supposed to be totally drunk.”
“Drunk?” he repeats.
She nods excitedly. “We have to go. We’re going to be late.”
My dad’s eyebrows remain raised and his eyes blink in rapid succession, telling me he has no idea what she’s talking about. I doubt I’d explain it to him if I did.
It takes me thirty seconds from the time we arrive at the party to wish that I’d taken a couple of shots before we left because the sounds and people are so intensely loud.
I follow her in as she greets a couple of people I don’t know, introducing me as her boyfriend, which makes the other girls squeal and Erin to giggle again.
“I’m going to get a drink,” I yell over the music and excited chorus of voices surrounding us. I don’t wait for her to reply. I make my way through the house, my eyes scanning the rooms looking for alcohol.
I finally see a couple of kegs set up in the backyard and quickly slide outside and stand in a short line to fill a cup.
“So you found a new Cassidy. That took you a long time.”
I look behind me and feel my eyes narrow as I work to place her face. I know I recognize her from somewhere.
She points an index finger at her chest. “Your neighbor,” she explains with an annoyed tone.
Yes, the neighbor that called me out for making out with her roommate, I remember you.
“No, her name’s Erin.”
Her eyes roll as she shakes her head. “Sure, you keep lying to yourself.”
“Why do you give a shit who I’m with?”
“I don’t.”
“You sure as hell seem to.”
“No, please, go ahead and date whatever cum dumpster you please.”
My eyebrows rise and my chin tilts hearing the accusation in her tone. “Cheating ex-boyfriend?” I reach.
“Disappointment with the male race in general.”
“Well, on behalf of all men, I apologize. But you’ve really got to pull your head out of your own ass and stop caring so much about what other people are doing, or not doing. It’s none of your goddamn business who anyone dates, unless they’re dating you.”
“You really found a winner this time,” she says, apparently refusing my advice.
“Aubrey!” A girl screams, crashing into the back of my interrogator.
Thankfully it takes me away from being her main focus. I fill my cup and then tip my chin at her, raising my eyebrows as her friend starts describing a hot guy that she just made out with. The scowl across her faces tells me she catches the hypocrisy of the situation.
I find Erin inside, dancing with a dude that has his hands wrapped around her hips. She makes no attempt to stop them as they slide higher and then lower on her body. If this was her, I would be going out of my mind right now with rage and probably punch the guy in the face. Yet as I stand here, I feel a strange sense of relief wash over me at the sight.
Slinking back into the crowd, I finish my beer and then try to be invisible as I watch everyone around me acting crazy and loud. I stay sober for the first time in months and silently pray Landon hasn’t had to deal with me acting like one of these morons.
Since I’m not nursing a hangover this morning, I spend most of my time out in the yard, mowing and the weed whacking. I continue my lawn maintenance by spraying a layer of fertilizer over it before my dad appears.
“You should have hollered. I would’ve been happy to help.”
I hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t here.
“That’s alright. I think I can handle mowing my own lawn.”
He nods a couple of times and then looks over my work. “Landon invited me to go with you boys to watch a game this evening. I don’t want to force you to accept me back into your life, Max. I’m sure that having me back is confusing. You don’t trust me, you don’t have any reason to, but I’d like to be back in your life. I want to stay, and be with you boys, and my grandkids.”
In the time he’s been back, I’ve been too selfish to even consider my brothers and what their feelings are on this matter. Both of them have attempted to reach out to me on several accounts and I’ve ignored them, positive they were calling to harass me about Erin.
“Have you contacted them yet?”
He nods once. “I’ve seen Hank a few times. He’s considering letting me meet the boys. Billy won’t talk to me yet. I don’t blame him. He was at a hard age to lose his father.”
“A hard age?” My voice is raised, filled with contempt, as my eyes flash to him. I haven’t hardly spoken to my dad, let alone discuss why in the hell he left, or why he’s returned.
“I know it was hard on all of you—”
“How in the hell would you know? You weren’t around.” My voice grows with each word.
“I want to make things right, Max. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. The ball is in your court, Son.�
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“You don’t just get to walk back into my life after all this time and be my dad. It doesn’t work like that!”
“I’m never going to be your dad if you continue to push me away.” His voice remains calm, something that I don’t recall him being able to do previously. “Your mom says—”
My head rears back and my entire face creases with confusion. “You’ve talked to Mom?” My tone is accusing; I’m sure my eyes are as well.
“I spoke to her before I contacted any of you boys. She deserved that.”
“Do whatever in the hell you want.” I drop the hose without bothering to put it away and make my way inside. I wash off the layer of green from my hands and arms, along with the stench of gasoline, and flick my phone on and call my mom.
I have no idea what anyone thinks of my dad staying with us. Since I didn’t invite him to stay, I can’t say that I really care. But that’s a lie, I sort of do care, and I don’t know why. I don’t know what to say to him or how to act. I haven’t seen the guy in thirteen years. That’s more than half of my life.
I miss having my bike for these trips to my mom’s. I don’t remember my thoughts ever being this loud on it.
I try not to look at the Bosses’ as I drive up, but it’s nearly impossible with it being next door. I didn’t bring Zeus with me this time, Landon had said he wanted to go running with him, another thing that I’m starting to feel guilty for. He’s been running Zeus nearly every day while I continue to go through life’s daily motions.
Before I can knock, the door swings open. My mom stands before me with a smile that I’m tired of being on the receiving end of. It’s filled with love, kindness, and sympathy, and right now I don’t want to see any of that. I want to be angry with her because she didn’t give me a fucking heads-up that my dad was coming.
