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.”
“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.
“Hi, sweetheart. Is Zeus with you?” she asks, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me so I have to bend at the waist to hug her.
“No, he’s at the house,” I reply, warring with myself on what emotion to feel right now.
“You’re mad at me.” Her tone is full of understanding as she pulls away from me and carefully studies my face.
My hand travels over my hair a few times as I let out a deep breath. “Why in the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I wanted you to have the opportunity to make a decision about your father without having to take me into account.” She looks at me for a moment and then nods her head toward the dining room.
She takes a seat and slides a plate of brownies to me. The brownies confirm that she’s feeling guilty. My mom hates baking.
“I knew that this was going to be really hard on you, and you’ve had so much happen this year, I didn’t want you to have to consider my feelings about this. I was hoping that if your father came and spoke to you, you wouldn’t be thinking of the past and the bad times. I wanted you to be able to see who he is now, and make a decision based upon your needs.”
I pick up a brownie and take a bite. I don’t know how to reply and need a few moments to mull it over.
“I hope you know I would never be upset with you for wanting to have a relationship with him, but I won’t be disappointed with you or judge you if you decide that you don’t want to either. It’s completely your choice.”
“How could you think I wouldn’t consider you, or the shit he put us through?”
“I don’t. There’s no way for you to not have that as a part of your consideration, but I don’t want that to be your only factor. You spent so much time and energy looking for him, Max, and now you have a chance to ask him whatever questions you’d been searching for.”
“How can you be okay with him being back here?”
My mom’s eyes fill with a wave of questions and hesitancy. “Max, if you didn’t want to find him, why were you looking for him?”
“I stopped looking.”
“Because you couldn’t find him or because you realized the answers don’t matter?”
“I don’t want him around. He’s just going to fuck things up again. Love fucks everything up.”
Her lips press together and her eyes dance across the table. “Max, of all the things you learned this year, I’m pretty certain you learned love is not a bad thing.”
“Are you kidding? Forget about her. Do you remember what dad did? All of the fights, the drinking, the gambling, the nights that he never came home and the ones that he did, beat up, and reeking of booze, cigarettes, and cheap shits? He made you weak, Mom. Love makes people weak!”
“Loving someone doesn’t make you weak, Max. Ace didn’t make you weak.” Her head tilts and she reaches across the table, folding a hand over mine. My mom’s hands have always felt like she spends her time in a refrigerator or out on a fishing boat in Alaska. They’re always cold, and the temperature difference brings a myriad of memories of her comforting me over the years and breaks the aggression that was ready to pull me under. “Loving someone makes you stronger.” My hand pulls away from hers, sliding into my lap as my attention moves to the patio door and my head shakes. “Max, if I didn’t have you boys when your dad left, I’d probably still be in that old bedroom, wearing his shirt and crying. Loving you and your brothers gave me the strength to move forward, to see the good in the world again.
“I’d always known your father and I had a dysfunctional relationship. He couldn’t say no to anything; moderation was never something he was good at. If he did something, he was all in.” Her hand wraps around my other hand still resting on the table, and her fingers press gently into my flesh until I look up and meet her blue eyes that are wide, swimming with emotion. “Max, you aren’t anything like your father was, you have drive, but you know your limitations. He never did. Loving someone is the bravest thing a person can do, sweetheart. You’re putting yourself out there for someone to potentially reject you.”