“On it.” Max takes off, but Mitchell lingers behind like he has something to say. Once his brother is out of earshot, he turns to face his dad and me, and I reach out for Gareth’s hand and hold my breath, unsure what to expect or how much more I can take.
“I know you have to work, but do you think we can keep having dinner together every night as a family, even if it’s late?”
“Sure bud,” Gareth answers gruffly, and I tighten my hand around his when his fingers squeeze mine.
“Cool.” He says softly before he tucks his hands in his pockets. “I’ll be back.” He turns and walks away and I watch him go then look up at Gareth.
“So—” I clear my throat. “—is it me, or did a lot just happen?”
“A lot just happened.”
I bite the inside of my cheek then shake my head, “I wonder how long they’ve known I’ve been sleeping over.”
“No idea. Also know it really doesn’t matter. I’m just happy they’re cool with you stayin’ the night.”
I drag in a deep breath. “I guess you’re right.”
“They both adore you.”
“I love them,” I admit.
“Only them?” he asks quietly as his eyes search mine.
I look around. “I’m not going to tell you that I love you the first time in the middle of the grocery store.”
“Why not? I don’t give a fuck where you tell me, just as long as you mean it when you say it. Besides I already know you love me,” he says smugly, letting my hand go to place his arm around my shoulders.
“What do you mean you know?”
“It’s written on your face every time you look at me,” he says, and I wonder if that’s true. Actually, I’m sure it is. I probably look like one of those emojis with the big heart eyes.
“Whatever. Let’s just focus on getting the stuff for dinner,” I mutter.
He brushes his lips across mine then leans back, grinning. “You’re even cute when you’re annoyed.”
“I’m not annoyed.”
“You are,” he returns, and I roll my eyes. “Are you happy though?”
At his quietly asked question, I rest my hand against his stomach, and tell him the truth. “I’m happier than I ever have been.”
“Then I’m doing my job,” he says, still talking gently. I don’t know how we got to this point, especially after the way things between us started out, but I’m glad we’re here now.
“You know, you’re very mushy for a guy who looks so gruff,” I say, and he laughs. “What? It’s true.”
“Babe, I’m not mushy.”
“You kinda are.”
“I’m not,” he denies.
“You really are,” I say just to tease, and he shakes his head then ignores me as I pick on him through the rest of the store.
“Aw, fuck,” Gareth mutters from the driver seat, and I look up from my Kindle, wondering what has him annoyed, and notice his eyes are on a bright blue Mustang parked next to my car in his driveway.
“Shit,” Mitchell growls from the back seat.
“Mom,” Max whispers, and my heart starts to pound when I see a petite woman with shoulder-length dark blond hair and alabaster skin get out of her car then slam the door with her slim, denim-covered hip. Her eyes lock with mine and narrow to slits through the windshield as she turns when we pull in to park. But even with the ugly look on her face, she looks like she belongs on the arm of a rock star… or a cool mechanic and tattoo artist.
“This is not fucking happening,” Gareth says on a low growl, sending a chill down my spine as he shuts down the engine. Then the back door opens, and Max runs around the hood to his mom. I hate her a little when she barely spares her son a glance, her attention now fully focused on Gareth. “Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, grasping my hand. “Baby.” I turn my head toward him. “It will be okay.”
Will it? This isn’t zip lining or the boys meeting my parents. This is Beth, the boys’ mom, his ex—a woman who he admitted messed him up—showing at his house looking beautiful and cool.
“Wait for me to come around to help you down,” he orders, and I nod, unhooking my belt feeling sick to my stomach. When he gets out and shuts the door, fingers wrap around my shoulder from the back seat, and I turn to look at Mitchell.
“I’ve got your back.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze then opens his door and hops out, slamming it closed before I can tell him he’s a really fricking great kid but that I’m an adult and will find a way to deal.
As soon as my door is open, Gareth reaches in, taking hold of my waist. I lean into him, placing my hands on his shoulders, and then let gravity work as I fall safely into his hold to my flat feet.
“That’s December, Dad’s girlfriend,” I hear Max say from behind the open door, and Gareth rumbles a quiet expletive as he hands me my purse then puts pressure on my hip in a silent demand to move so he can shut it.
“I got the groceries, Dad.” Mitchell stops at our side then looks at me. “You wanna help me put them away?”
“Sure.” I adjust my purse on my shoulder then reach out to take a couple of bags, since he’s overloaded. But he steps back, shaking his head making me want to roll my eyes, because he’s already just like his father.
“Is only my youngest going to greet me?”
At that question, I turn slightly and experience up close exactly why Gareth had two kids with her. She really is beautiful, even with the sneer she’s trying to hide.
“Mom,” Mitchell says, and I step closer to him without thinking, not liking the slight twinge of pain and anger I hear in his voice.
Her attention comes to me briefly when I move, and then she focuses on him once more and asks, “That’s all I get? Mom?”
“I haven’t seen you in months,” he tells her, and my heart hurts. How can she stand to be away from her boys that long?
“I’ve been working; you know that.”
“Yeah.” He shakes his head. “I’m going to go put the groceries away and start on homework. Come on, Max. You should do the same.”
“I….” Max looks around, starting to realize that everyone isn’t as happy as he is that his mom’s here.
Not liking the sudden unease I see in his frame, I plaster my best pretend smile on my face and hold out my hand. “I’m December.”
Beth looks down at it like it’s covered in toxic waste then sighs, placing her hand in mine. “Beth.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” I let her hand go. “I think these guys are just hungry and tired after work and school today. I’m sure you get that,” I say then look up at Gareth. “I’m going to get started on dinner.”
“All right, babe. I’ll be inside in a few minutes.” He touches his fingers to my jaw then looks at Max. “Go on in, kid.”
“But—”
“I need to talk to your mom. Go get started on your homework,” Gareth tells him, and Max’s shoulders slump as he turns away.
I want so badly to place my arm around him and tell him it’s okay, but I don’t. Instead, I stay behind him as we walk the path to the house and up the stairs to the porch, and then I cringe when I hear Beth snap, “Seriously, Gareth, what the fuck? Is she living here with you?”
“That’s none of your business, Beth,” Gareth replies, and then I don’t hear more, because I shut the door to block them out.
When I turn around, neither of the boys are anywhere in sight. I hang up my purse and jacket then pick up Max’s coat from where he draped it over the back of the couch, hanging it up. I then straighten the cushions, fold the blankets, put away the video games left out, and stack all the boys’ sports equipment in the corner, thinking I need to get a basket for it all to go in. When I finally make it to the kitchen, I find the groceries still in the plastic bags from the store. I turn on the oven then unpack everything, trying to ignore the urge to go peek out the blinds to see what’s happening in the driveway.
“Do you need help?” I turn my head toward Max standing at the edge of
the island, and I notice his eyes are a little red like he’s been crying.
“Definitely,” I say, dumping the two packs of meatloaf seasoning into the bowl that I’ve already got the milk, eggs, and breadcrumbs in. “I don’t like squishing all the stuff into the meat, so you’d be doing me a favor if you helped me out.” He nods, not giving me even a small glimpse of his normal happy smile. “Wash your hands, honey.”
He does, and then I softly tell him what to do, and while he mixes everything together, I fill a pot with water and add the already cleaned corn, putting it on the stove. Then I place a bag of ready-to-steam potatoes in the microwave and set it for ten minutes.
“My mom isn’t bad,” he says, catching me off guard as I pull out a baking dish from one of the lower cabinets, and I look at him as I stand from my squatted position.
“Pardon?”
“My mom… she isn’t a bad person,” he repeats without looking at me.
“I don’t think anyone thinks that, honey,” I tell him gently, setting the baking dish next to him on the counter.
“She’s funny, and she tells cool stories, and she always brings me stuff.” I don’t say anything, because I honestly don’t know what to say. “She’s cool, like you, but different. I… I don’t think she really wanted to be a mom, but she does the best she can.”
“Max,” I whisper, hating that he even thinks that, let alone believes that it’s true.
“She’s just her, and when she’s around, I like spending time with her.”
“She’s your mom, honey. Of course you like spending time with her.”
“I also like spending time with you,” he says, and I can tell by his tone that he feels guilty about that.
Even though my throat is tight with emotion, I still manage to tell him, “I like spending time with you too.” Then, not caring if I should or not, I wrap my arm around his shoulders then lean my head against the side of his. “It’s okay to care about more than one person, Max.”
“Okay,” he mumbles, not sounding convinced.
I pull in a breath, releasing it slowly and wondering what I can say to make him feel better, but before I can find the words, Gareth comes back into the house. His eyes go between his son and me before they lock on mine in question. Unsure how to tell him what his son just said without using words, I give him a tight smile and he drops his eyes to Max. “Come here, kid. Your mom wants to say goodbye.”
“She’s leaving?” he asks worriedly, his body still against mine filling with tension once more.
“Just for now. You’ll see her tomorrow. She’s going to pick you up from school and hang with you for a while, if that’s okay with you.”
“It’s okay,” he says, hurrying to wash his hands before rushing out of the kitchen and house.
“Just a few more minutes, baby,” Gareth tells me, and I nod then watch him walk back outside.
I look down at the bowl of mush in front of me, muttering, “You were the one who was waiting for drama. Well, here you go. Now you just gotta deal with it.”
“Are you talking to yourself?”
I jump in place and turn to mock glare at Mitchell. “Don’t sneak up on me.”
“I didn’t sneak. I walked in here like I always do.” He grins.
I shake my head. “Well, don’t walk so quietly.”
“Do you want me to wear a bell like Melbourne?”
“That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea. Maybe I’ll sew some into your jeans,” I say, listening to him laugh while I dump the meat mixture into the baking dish and shape it into a loaf before washing my hands and placing it in the oven.
“Are you okay?” he asks, grabbing a can of Coke from the fridge.
“I think I should be asking you that question,” I say as he casually leans back against the counter.
“I’m used to my mom showing up out of the blue then disappearing again for a few months. It’s been the same way my whole life. You’re new to her games.”
“That must have been hard to deal with growing up.”
He shrugs then takes a sip from his Coke and looks toward the front door. “Just sucks for Max. He still buys into her bullshit when she’s around and then is hurt when she takes off and doesn’t call for weeks or months at a time,” he says, and even though I don’t agree with him cursing I curb the urge to say something about it.
“He loves his mom,” I say, leaving out that he loves her too, otherwise, he wouldn’t be hurt by her actions.
“Yeah.” He lets out a long breath.
“He’s lucky he has you. You’re a good big brother.”
“I guess,” he concedes, pushing away from the counter. “Do you need help with dinner?”
“I’m good, honey.”
He lifts his chin. “I’m gonna start on my homework.”
“Sure,” I tell him. He gives me a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes then leaves the kitchen, and I hear his bedroom door close. With a sigh, I go to my bag and grab my cell phone along with my Kindle then take a seat on the couch. I send my mom a text just to tell her that I love her, and tears fill my eyes when she texts back a moment later, Beyond each and every galaxy.
I don’t believe for one moment that Beth doesn’t love her boys, but I do know she’s hurting them with her actions, and that is something a mother shouldn’t do to her children—especially not over and over again. I wish I knew how to fix things between them, not for her but for the boys.
I bite the inside of my cheek, wondering if she would even listen to me if I tried to explain things to her. I doubt she would. Actually, I’m sure she would be offended if I even tried. I’m also not sure it’s my place. With a sigh, I turn on my Kindle, but as soon as the screen lights up and words appear, the door opens and Max and Gareth come inside.
“Go get started on your homework,” Gareth orders, and without a word, Max disappears down the hall while Gareth takes off his coat.
I bite my lip when he tosses the jacket on the back of the couch and jerks his fingers through his hair. “Everything all right?” I ask softly, placing my Kindle and cell on the coffee table.
“No,” he answers then moves past me to the kitchen, and I hear the fridge open and shut. I get up and walk around the edge of the island, finding him standing near the stove with a bottle of beer to his lips. When he sees me, he drops it and holds open his arms. I walk toward him slowly then wrap my arms around his waist and rest the side of my head against his chest. “She always does this,” he says as his cheek rests against my hair and he pulls in a deep breath.
“Does what?” I ask, not moving.
“Shows when the boys and I have had enough time to forget she even exists.” I cringe from the harshness in his voice. “It’s like she can smell that we’re happy and can’t handle it, so she comes to fuck shit up.”
“She can only mess things up if you let her, Gareth. And she didn’t seem so bad.”
“Babe, she was nice to you outside, probably because she was caught off guard by seeing you with us.” Nice? That was her being nice? Yikes. “Just promise to stick this out with me and the boys. She’s never around for very long.”
I tip my head back, forcing him to move his head, and frown up at him. “Do you think she’s going to scare me off?”
“I think she’ll try,” he replies gently, setting down his beer so he can capture my face with both his hands. “In her mind, me and the boys belong to her.”
“I’m a Mayson, Gareth Black. I know I’m not adventurous or very outgoing, but I’m still a Mayson.” His brows draw together, and I lift my hand to rub away the lines etched between them. “Family, love, devotion, and determination are what I grew up seeing all around me. I know what’s important. I know why it’s important. And I understand that sometimes, even when it’s scary, you have to do everything within your power to protect it. I love you.” I say and watch as his pupils dilate on the word love. “I’m not worried about me, or even you. I’m worried about what her being here will
mean for the boys. Neither of them knows how to deal with her presence. Mitchell is angry with her, probably because he loves her and wishes that she loved him enough to stick around, and Max is torn, because he likes me and feels like he’s betraying his mom by feeling that way.”
“Seems you know my boys,” he says tenderly.
I melt farther against him and slide my hands up to rest against his chest. “They’re just like you. All you have to do is read between the lines to know what they’re thinking or feeling.” I tip my head to the side and ask, “She’s picking Max up from school tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” He leans back against the counter, keeping hold of my waist with one hand while using the other to pick his beer back up and take a swig.
“What about Mitchell?”
“I’ll talk to him and see if he’s down with her picking him up. If not then I can still have Mom grab him after practice, so you won’t have to deal with Beth.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s staying at one of the local hotels, so after she gets Max, she’ll come back here with him.”
“Oh.” I chew the inside of my cheek, not sure how I feel about her being here in the house that has started to feel like a second home to me.
“I don’t like it any more than you do, baby, but I don’t want Max hanging out in a hotel room every day after school for however long she’s here for.”
“I get it.” And I do get it logically. It’s the illogic part of my brain, the part that contains irrational emotions like jealousy, that doesn’t like it much at all.
“It won’t be for very long.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” I ask, only half joking.
“Probably both of us,” he admits.
I smile and lean up on my tiptoes, touching my mouth to his. “Like you always say, it will be okay.”
“Yeah.” He squeezes my hip. “How much work do you have to do tonight?”
“Not much, I just have a few tests to grade, and they shouldn’t take me more than an hour.”
Until December: Until Her/ Until Him Page 16