Max sat on the bed and patted the seat next to her. Jack sat down and looked at her mother, curiosity in her eyes. Max smiled at her and touched the end of her hair that hung over her shoulder.
"Jack, I've never minced words with you before. What I have to tell you is going to be really hard," Max started. She watched Jack's eyes cloud with concern as she watched her mother speak.
"You've never asked much about your father," Max said.
"You said he was gone. I thought that was the story," Jack replied slowly, not yet understanding where the conversation was headed.
"That is what I said," Max said, trying hard to pick her words. "But if I'm telling the truth, I lied about that."
"You lied?" Jack repeated.
"Yes. I mean technically, yes, your father was gone. He was never around. He never met you. Because if he had, I know now, he would not have been without you."
"You know now? How do you know that?" Jack asked. Max knew her mind must have been racing with the implications. She wondered if she let her think about it long enough, would she put it all together.
"When I was young, I was very much so in love with my high school sweetheart. He and I had promises and plans. He left for the Army and he was supposed to write once he was allowed to in boot camp. Just after he left, I found out I was pregnant. With you. He never knew about you, because I never heard from him after he left for boot camp."
"So, he didn't want you, why would he want me?" Jack lifted her chin in defiance, wanting to defend her mother's actions, even though Max knew how wrong they were.
"It wasn't true though, Jack. He did write. For over a year. But I never knew," Max said, hedging around the fact of how she’d found out. Jack just looked at her, a question on her face.
"I know this now, and I just found out, because my high school sweetheart was Griffin."
Max waited, much like she did with Griffin. She was waiting for anger, disbelief, tears. But Jack sat still, staring at Max. The look reminded Max so much of Griffin's reaction, that she wanted to laugh out loud. However, she realized how wrong that would be at the moment, so she refrained. She touched Jack's cheek softly, trying to urge a response from her.
"Griffin?" She finally asked.
"Yes, honey. That's why it was so important we find him. I couldn't let him die, without...I don't know....knowing you, finding out he was a father. I couldn't find out he was dead, and you never know who your father was," Max said softly.
"I rode a motorcycle with my father today?" Jack asked, her voice a mere whisper that Max barely heard. She nodded her head in response. "Does he know now?"
"I just told him. I'm sure he'd like to talk to you. Would you like that?"
Jack didn't answer, only nodded her head slightly. Max squeezed her hand and left the room to find Griffin. He was at the end of the hall, waiting impatiently. Turner stood off to his side as if he was waiting for Griffin to bolt and do something reckless. He may have judged Griffin right, the man looked like he was ready to sprint down the hallway before Max even reached the end. He was nervous and fidgeting, but his eyes were on the door down the hall.
"I told her," Max said.
"And?"
"She'd like to talk to you," Max replied. Griffin turned his eyes to hers then. Max was sad, though not surprised, to see less warmth there than before. She knew it would take time for him to forgive her deceit. She didn't blame him.
"What do I say?" He asked.
"I'm not sure any of us know at this point. Just go in and talk to her. She'll probably let you know what she wants you to talk about," Max said with a small smile.
Griffin walked woodenly down the hall. When he got to the door, Max could see him take a physical moment to breathe and get himself together. When he disappeared into the room Max felt her heart crack, thinking of all the time she had wasted for them.
"You did the right thing, Max," Turner said, laying his hand comfortingly on Max's shoulder.
"Only took eight years."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Max finished dinner. Then because that didn't take her mind off of things, she unpacked her bags and inventoried her supplies. She counted and recounted food, making meal plans in her mind with what they had left. Going through the kitchen, she was able to replenish some of what they had used the last few days. She packed additional supplies in each pack so everyone had food on them for emergencies.
An hour later, the house was dark. Turner worked with Max to secure the windows, ensuring that they could use lanterns without letting anyone know they were hiding inside the house. They placed a few lanterns in the living room where they were all sitting. Cliff played solitaire with Jack's cards, keeping to himself. He didn't know what was going on, but he could sense something very personal was happening and he wanted to stay out of it.
When the door down the hall opened, Max hopped to her feet. Jack led the way, holding the lantern low to show their way to the living room. Max tried to judge her daughter's emotions, but her face was a smooth mask of nothing. The lack of an evidence of her first talk with her father made Max feel nervous and uncomfortable. A part of her wanted to protect her from any of this. Nonetheless, Max was certain once the initial awkwardness settled away, Jack would find a relationship with her father.
Griffin avoided looking at Max, heading straight for Turner when they came out. Feeling she deserved to know how their talk went, Max followed the men into the kitchen. Griffin whirled on her the moment she entered.
"So she just thought I was gone. No hero story about me being dead?" His voice was laced with sarcasm.
"I wasn't sure what else to tell her when she asked," Max replied.
"Wells, man, you two have things to talk about. I'm gonna go..." Turner started to say.
"No!" Griffin and Max snapped at the same time.
"Ok..." Turner said, stepping back from them and sitting at the small kitchen table.
"What did she want to talk about?" Max asked finally. Griffin just stared at her and she waited.
"She had questions. I answered what I could. She defended you," Griffin said with a wry laugh.
"This is hard on her. It's always been just her and I," she replied.
"It didn't have to be, Max. You cheated her of so much," he accused.
"I know. And I will have to ask her to forgive me, and hope that she does."
"She'll never stay angry at you. She loves you too much. I could have had that too with her," Griffin said sadly. The fight was seeping out of him, grief over what he missed filling in.
"There's still time. She's such a good girl. Her heart is real and pure. She loves everyone she meets," Max explained, a smile on her face. "All of that was in spite of being raised by me. So it must have been in the DNA you gave her. I have something for you to see."
Max pulled a small book from her back pocket. When she left their home in South Carolina, Max left everything behind, except this small book. The book held photos of the last eight years, at least one from each year of the life of Jack. She couldn't leave without it. She had hoped someday she would show Griffin. But even if she didn't find him, she wanted to always have those memories with her.
His hands held the book gingerly as if he was afraid of ruining it. When he opened to the first photo, he found Max, barely an adult, laying in a hospital bed with their baby on her chest. Max smiled slightly at the camera, exhausted from labor but so very enthralled with her baby. Griffin's hand covered his mouth, as he squinted in the darkness. Max pulled out her small penlight and gave it to him.
Sitting at the kitchen table next to Turner, Griffin used the light so he could see each photo in detail. Turner commented in all the right ways, saying how she was a beautiful baby and pointing out things that looked like Griffin. Max stood watching as Griffin tried to absorb each photo into his memory. When he reached the end, he went back to the beginning to look again. He traced her chubby baby cheeks with his finger, a soft smile on his lips.
Max left the ki
tchen to check on Jack and to get dinner ready for everyone. She found Jack sitting alone staring into space. She had a lantern next to her, shadows playing across her face making it hard for Max to determine her thoughts. She sat next to her and was just quiet for a few moments.
"He said he would have wanted me. And that he wants me now," Jack finally said into the space she was staring at.
"I'm not surprised. Who wouldn't want a daughter like you," Max replied quietly. Jack's small hand found hers and gripped her fingers tightly.
"I still love you the best, Momma. I'm not mad at you," Jack said.
"You don't have to love me best, Jack. You can love Griffin, your dad, as much as you want," Max said, squeezing her hand back.
"Will I love him? Will he feel like my dad?"
"It'll come. I'm sure of it, honey. He's shocked, just like you. But I can already see how much he cares about you," Max reassured.
"I like him. He's funny. And he doesn't treat me like a baby." That comment made Max smile. Jack the eight-year-old going on eighteen.
"You aren't a baby, but you still need your parents. And you know what, we need you," Max said quietly.
"You do?" Jack asked, looking at her mother incredulously. She never thought Max needed anything.
"Of course! Who would make sure we all were fed well? And who would make sure I was wearing dry clothes?" Max teased, bumping her shoulder into Jack's.
That was how Griffin found them when he came out of the kitchen. He walked over to hand Max back her book, which he did carefully, still acting like the book was the most precious thing he had ever seen. The thought made Max smile wider. He looked at Jack and smiled down at her.
"You were a very beautiful baby, Jack," he said.
"Oh, thank you," Jack replied shyly.
"I hope you know I wish I had been there for that," Griffin added.
"I know you do. Now that I know you, I kinda wish it too," Jack replied.
"We have a lot to do before we get to Montana, but once we're there, I hope I get the chance to know you a little better," Griffin hedged.
"Ok. I'd like that."
Setting up sleeping areas was tense. Cliff easily went off on his own, sleeping in the formal dining room, instead of in the living room with them. It was decided that Jack would sleep on the couch. Griffin was determined to never be far from the little girl. He and Max had to come to a compromise where they both had their heads near Jack on the couch. However, this set up put them sleeping right next to each other. While they argued over things, Turner set up his bed with a comforter he found in a bedroom. He stood watching them bicker with a huge smile on his face.
"Wipe that crap look off your face," Griffin shot over his shoulder at him.
"I don't know what you mean, Wells," Turner replied, feigning innocence.
"Nothing is funny about this," Griffin said.
"Well it's a little funny," Max interjected. Griffin just glared at her, which made her choke on a laugh. Jack watched them both in astonishment. She couldn't figure out the situation for herself, but her mother and father couldn't seem to figure it out either.
"You are going to be great at this co-parenting thing," Turner added, as he laid down on his makeshift bed.
"Yes, I've become a professional in the last few hours since I found out I even had a kid," Griffin said gruffly.
"I'm sure you'll do fine. It's not like I know what a father should be like anyway," Jack suddenly said. All of the adults in the room stopped and looked at her. Just like that, the tension left the room and they were all laughing. Jack smiled, her joke doing exactly what she had hoped. Though it was a joke, it wasn't untrue either, Max realized. Jack had no idea how a father should act. She had only seen Gramps with her momma and she was old enough now to know that wasn't a normal father, daughter relationship.
With the lanterns turned off the house was pitch black. Max still couldn't get used to no street lights or business signs lighting up windows even after you'd gone to bed. The neighborhood was eerily quiet as well, the lack of sound almost worse than a street full of traffic and people. Right then Max would have done anything for living people yelling and shouting throughout the houses. The silence grated on her nerves making it very difficult to think about sleeping.
Jack's soft snores behind her on the couch indicated her daughter didn't have the same problem.
"She fell asleep fast," Griffin whispered. Max turned in her sleeping bag to face him. Though she couldn't see him clearly, she knew he was close to her.
"She can fall asleep anywhere really, she's been like that since she was a baby," Max answered.
"Tell me what it was like with her as a baby."
Max sighed. There was so much to say. "She was quiet. Sometimes it made me nervous. I knew nothing about being a mother, and here I was with a brand new baby and no one but my dad around to help me."
"Mitch must have hated me."
"I don't know if it was hate, to be honest. He never said he disliked you. Just that he believed you weren't coming back. But he said that knowing you were writing and he was hiding it from me. I think it was more about keeping Jack and I on the compound."
"How did you end up on the East Coast?" He asked in a whispered tone.
"After a year or so, I realized that Mitch was worse than he was when I was a kid. He was horribly paranoid about everything. He used to try every jar of baby food or bottle of formula before she could eat it. He was convinced that someone would try to kill out a whole generation of babies to start a fall of the human race."
"Jesus," Griffin breathed.
"Yeah," Max agreed. She continued, "So after I realized it wasn't going to do Jack any good to stay on the compound, I decided to move as far away as possible. We had family in South Carolina, they let us live with them for a while before I got on my feet."
"Did Jack like it there?" He asked.
"I think so. She had lots of friends at school. And we were able to go camping whenever we wanted. The thing about Jack is, she's better with people than I am," she said with a quiet laugh. When Griffin replied she could hear the smile in his voice.
"Well, she definitely got her snarky humor from you."
"That's probably true. She's been dealing with me for eight years. She doesn't know any better."
"I just don't understand it, Max. You were alone with a baby. Why wouldn't you have wanted my help?" He reached out in the dark, looking for Max's hand. She met him halfway and let him squeeze her fingers. She felt like he was giving her a signal that they would work it out, talk it to death, and figure it out together.
"I was young. I was determined to not crawl back to someone who I thought had left me. It was as simple as that. I grew up with one parent, so I didn't even really think that would hurt Jack in the long run."
"But you didn't have a choice to know your mother because she died. I was alive," Griffin replied, his voice a little louder now. Max shushed him. She didn't want his anger to wake Jack and upset her.
"I know. But never knowing her, didn't leave me with any pain from that. I mean sure I wondered, but it wasn't hurtful to me. I figured Jack would just be the same." She didn't have any other explanations for him. It was more a choice made by a bitter girl left alone to give birth to her child alone. And that bitterness carried with her for years. Once she wasn't angry, she then felt it was too late to change her choice.
"I was overseas a lot in those years with the Army. But I would have tried."
"I know."
They went silent after that and Max felt emotionally drained from the day. Griffin seemed to sense that and he didn't ask any more questions. As she started to fall asleep, she was awoken by Griffin shifting and getting out of his bed. She could see his outline, crouching over Jack's sleeping form. She watched as he fixed her sleeping bag that she had tried to kick out of. He tucked her in and just looked at her. Max knew he couldn't see her clearly, but he was still trying to comprehend the fact that the little girl was his.
The sounds of the wind against the window and the sounds of the house creaking prevented her from hearing anyone approach. She almost dropped the covering to step back when she saw them, afraid of being spotted. Quickly she realized they were living, not the infected wandering the neighborhood. They were methodically checking the driveways with cars, opening doors that were unlocked, pulling out suitcases that were packed for an escape. Max just stood, watching them, understanding their organized need to scavenge whatever they could.
They turned toward the house they were in and Max slid more to the side to watch them from the shadows. They weren't trying to enter houses, but if they saw movement, she wasn't sure what they would do. They checked the saddlebags on the bikes first. They would find nothing there, Max knew because she had insisted on bringing all of their supplies in when they stopped. She didn't begrudge others for trying to survive, but she had already been carjacked. She wasn't offering her supplies to thieves willingly.
At first, she thought they must have seen her standing at the window, they all turned toward the house at the same time. Max stood completely stone still while shushing the group inside the house. They were all talking quietly, there was no way the sound carried to the group of scavengers. But something about the house attracted their attention and they moved toward the door.
Max slowly put the cover down and moved to the door. Griffin and Turner had pushed a large bookcase against the door for this situation, as they broke off the lock to get into the house. Griffin turned to her now, realizing something was going on and met her at the bookcase. She pressed her ear near where the bookcase met the door, hoping to hear something from the group outside.
Survive (Sundown Series Book 2) Page 23