of school my senior year.
Half an hour later, Carol sat down beside me. “Did you lose track of Max?”
“He’s with Michael, hopefully resolving their issues.”
“Men,” she said.
“Eh.” I wasn’t fond of generalizations. “I know plenty of women who have a hard time articulating their feelings, too.”
Too late I remembered that was how women bonded, by being condescending about men. But I’d never participated in that tradition. People of both genders had equal opportunity to be idiots as well as emotionally evolved. I ignored the awkward pause in conversation, eating a bite of fruit salad. Carol stirred, as if she might get up, but then Mr. Cooper stumbled out of the house. From the smell, I could tell he’d fallen off the wagon.
“Where the fuck is that bastard?” He could only be talking about Max, who wasn’t there yet, thank God. “It’s not enough he crippled my Mickey, now he’s—”
His brother, Jim, clapped a hand over his mouth, dragging him back inside. The rest of the guests swapped nervous glances, as if they were thinking about bailing, but ten minutes passed, then Jim came out of the house alone. Relief pressed a sigh out of me, and tension drained from my spine.
“Sorry, folks. It’s been a rough day for Charlie.”
Everyone nodded, pretending to accept the excuse, but whispers about Mr. Cooper didn’t abate. Poor Max. His dad really is an asshole. But the rest of the family seemed okay.
Before much longer, Michael parked his Scion in front of the house, as the driveway was full. Max pulled up a minute behind; that was kind of a relief. There was no question that I was an interloper here, and the longer I sat, the weirder I felt. Plus, it was fucking hot. Sweat trickled down the small of my back when I stood up to meet him.
“You okay?” he asked, jogging up the ramp toward me.
“Yeah. You?” I noticed he’d discarded his blazer and vest, probably stowed in the bike’s top box, and his tie hung loose, tempting me to tug on it. If we were dating, I’d use it to haul him in for a kiss.
“It’s funny. For years I figured he hated me, blamed me for everything and that he wouldn’t believe me if I explained why I couldn’t be around. But in the end...he wasn’t even too surprised.”
“I’m guessing he knows your dad.”
Max glanced around. “Where is he?”
“Drinking again. Your Uncle Jim put him to bed earlier. I think.” Before I could reconsider the meddling impulse, I shared what Uncle Lou had said.
He stumbled back, his hand on the railing. “Are you serious?”
I nodded. “With one exception, your family misses you, dude.”
On closer inspection, I saw that he was actually trembling. I put down my plate as Max took my hand and led me around back. It was much cooler, more wooded, less landscaping, but there was an old swing suspended on a weathered frame. He led over me to it and sort of collapsed. Max leaned forward, his face in his hands. I rubbed his sweaty back, not really understanding this reaction.
When he spoke, his words were muffled. “This is nothing like I pictured. I thought I’d have to fight everyone—that it would be all anger and blame. I was...I was braced for that, you know? I’m used to fighting. But Uncle Jim and Aunt Carol, Uncle Lou... They’re so nice. And sad, too. Hurt, even. Because of me. Because I let my crazy-ass dad speak for everyone. Because I listened to him and cut ties without a second thought.”
“You were pretty young,” I said. “I think it’s enough you had the courage to come back. And I admire the hell out of you for making it right with Michael. You’ve been on your own since you were sixteen. I mean, damn. Instead of dropping out, you graduated. Somehow. I’ve always wondered how, man.”
Max straightened, but not enough to make me think he wanted me to stop, so I circled my palm up and down his back. His lashes fluttered, suggesting he liked it. “Technically, I did drop out. I raced off on the bike, ended up in a shitty no-questions-asked motel in Scranton. I worked fast food, barely squeaking by.”
“Your family didn’t call?” Okay, maybe they were all assholes.
“I couldn’t afford a cell phone.”
“Email?”
“I didn’t check much since I had to go to the library to use the computer, and when I did, I deleted them unread.”
“But...why?” He could’ve resolved this much sooner.
“I was afraid they were trying to tell me Mickey didn’t make it. Chickenshit, I know, but...it was like, if I didn’t read it, then it couldn’t be true. I know now, once he started getting better they got busy managing his recovery and figuring out where he’d live...because he finally told everyone else how bad it was with Pop.”
“You never said anything?”
Max shook his head. “It was... I shielded Mickey from him... That was my mandate. Hell if I know why I didn’t just tell Uncle Jim. But I guess, back then, I was...ashamed, like it was because of me. So I had to hide the evidence.”
“What do you mean?”
“If I was better, my old man wouldn’t act like that.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“I was a dumb kid. When I think back to when my mother was alive, he wasn’t that way. But I was so young, I don’t remember much about her.”
Working my palm up his spine, I cupped my hand around his neck, massaging the tense cords until he let out a pleased sigh. “What was she like?”
“Like I said, I was five when she died. But she spoke with an accent, and...” He paused like he was sorting his memories. “I loved watching her cook. She’d set me up in the kitchen with wooden spoons and two or three pots to bang on. Never yelled no matter how much noise I made. And...she smelled like jasmine.”
Max tipped his head back, and I took the invitation, lifting the shaggy black hair to sink my fingers into it, rubbing the base of his skull in slow, gentle circles. “How come your family never tried to find you?”
“Michael said they didn’t mean to lose track of me, it just happened. They figured I’d blow off some steam, come home in a few weeks. But I was too stubborn. I didn’t set foot in Rhode Island until I was old enough to take the GED.”
“After so much shit, you still got into college. From where I’m sitting, that’s incredible. Your whole life is a colossal in-your-face to your dad.”
“Not so much. The first year after I left was...rocky. I drank a lot, flirted with various addictions. Fucked any woman who’d take me home and got into pointless fights. A guy nearly stabbed me in an alley before I realized dying in the gutter wasn’t how I wanted to go out.”
“You turned it around, though. And your family’s proud. Why wouldn’t they be?” After Eli died, I got full-on hooked on prescription meds; I loved the
