by Amy Vastine
“My sister is bringing Simon by the restaurant after school for a couple of minutes.” Kendall’s cheeks were still pink from laughing, but the color deepened as she spoke. Her eyes dropped to the food in front of her. “He wants to know if you like Halloween.”
Simon was coming to find out Max’s feelings on the upcoming holiday? For some unknown reason, this kid cared more about Max than his own son did. Of course, he had no one to blame but himself for that. Max had not been a good dad to Aidan. Far from it.
“I’m kind of indifferent to Halloween, but I have a feeling that answer won’t impress a six-year-old.”
“You don’t like Halloween?” Kendall asked, her attention back on him.
“Doesn’t do much for me.”
“Did you like it when you were young?”
“A little,” he said with a shrug.
“Too scary for you?” Owen asked, smirking.
“No,” he said, refraining from throwing his napkin at Owen’s head. “My mom was way too into it.”
Kendall’s eyes brightened. “Yeah? That’s cute. Did she decorate the house or dress up?”
Max’s mother was consistent about one thing while he was growing up. She loved Halloween. She always came up with elaborate costumes for herself and stayed in character all night long. As fun as that was when he was really little, it was horrifyingly embarrassing when he got into grade school.
“Both. One year, she was Mary Poppins and spoke in this ridiculous English accent all day. I hoped she’d fly away with her umbrella when we got done trick-or-treating.”
Owen and Kendall both laughed at his childhood pain. There were times he could find the humor in his mother’s crazy. It was easier now that he was an adult and not under her roof.
“She doesn’t sound so bad,” Kendall said.
“She did the best she could, I suppose,” Max relented. The check came and Owen insisted on paying.
“Simon wants to be a race-car driver this year. The only problem is he wants to be driving a car. I have no idea how to make that happen.”
“My mom once went as my school bus driver. She made a bus out of a refrigerator box.” He left out how humiliated he’d felt at the time. “I’ve got some boxes you could use. All you’d need is some paint and a little imagination.”
Kendall’s mouth fell open.
“That’s a good idea,” Owen said, chiming in and looking equally surprised.
“That’s a really good idea.” Kendall agreed.
Max’s shoulders straightened a bit. Maybe his mother’s quirkiness was good for something after all.
* * *
TWO MORE INTERVIEWS before Max called it a day. He had a visit with Aidan tonight, which meant he needed to go home, shower and change. He tried not to think about how the little boy couldn’t care less if his father showed up smelling like sweat or not. He probably wished Max wouldn’t show up at all.
The restaurant doors opened and a much easier to please boy scampered in. A woman trailed behind him. She was a brunette, like Kendall, but tall and thin like Lucy.
“Hey, buddy, you here to interview for the bartender job?” Max asked, folding his arms on top of the counter and leaning forward.
Simon laughed. He had a little smudge of blue paint on his cheek. “I’m just a kid. I can’t work.”
“You’re just a kid? I heard you were a race-car driver.” He gave Simon’s aunt a wink and a crooked smile, but she just stood there gaping. She blinked three or four times. She did know he was kidding, didn’t she?
The little boy found Max much more entertaining. “I’m not a race-car driver. I’m not even old enough to drive!”
“Well, then, we need to talk to your mother because she told me you were a race-car driver and I was going to get you a car and everything.”
Kendall appeared out of nowhere. She’d spent most of the afternoon sketching the first part of her mural on the wall in the main dining area. Her hair was pulled up in a sloppy bun with three pencils sticking out of it. Dressed casually in jeans and a soft gray, long-sleeved T-shirt, Artist Kendall was much more relaxed than Designer Kendall. Max really did like this version of her.
She rubbed her hands on those long, jean-clad legs and smiled at Simon. “Hey, honey.” She pulled him against her and kissed him on top of the head.
“Did you tell Max to buy me a car?”
A wrinkle appeared between her eyes. “I don’t think I told him to buy you a car.”
“You said he was a race-car driver,” Max explained.
Her eyebrows lifted, as did the corners of her mouth. She had a lovely smile. Max found himself wishing he could see it more often.
“I told him you want to be a race-car driver for Halloween. He had a great idea for your costume.” She turned her head and caught sight of her sister, who was still standing and staring with her mouth agape. Kendall’s face fell. She let go of Simon and pushed her sister back a few steps. Max couldn’t hear what they were saying, but the sister’s eyes kept sliding back to him throughout their discussion. He thought he made out an “Oh, my God,” but he couldn’t be sure.
“Is your aunt feeling all right?” he asked Simon.
The boy glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. “Aunt Emma’s a nurse. She never gets sick. Do you like Halloween?”
“Do you?” Max deflected. Simon nodded and grinned. Max decided to play along for the kid’s sake. “It’s pretty cool. My mom used to love it and make my costumes.”
“My mommy just eats my candy.”
Max chuckled, picturing Kendall poaching the best stuff out of her kid’s plastic pumpkin. He leaned in closer. “Is that right? She’s a thief, huh?”
Simon’s head bobbed up and down. The two women rejoined them and Kendall made introductions.
Max straightened up and stretched out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Emma.”
Emma made eye contact and froze again. Kendall nudged her with an elbow until she managed to return the greeting. Max wondered what was up with this family. All three sisters stared at him like they couldn’t believe he was real when they met him. Perhaps his resemblance to Simon’s father had something to do with it. How much did he look like the guy?
“Max thinks Halloween is cool,” Simon informed his mother.
“And Simon says you eat his candy,” Max teased.
Kendall’s eyes widened. “I do not eat your candy!” she said, tickling the boy’s sides and making him squeal and squirm.
Max’s chin dropped and he gave her a second to come clean. It was common knowledge that one of the perks of being a parent was raiding the Halloween candy after the little ones went to bed.
“Fine, maybe I eat the Milky Ways,” she admitted. Max quirked a brow and waited. It didn’t take long for her to add to her confession. “And the 3 Musketeers, but that’s it!”
Letting her off the hook, Max turned his attention back to Simon. “I have some boxes at my place that I bet your mom could turn into the best race car ever.”
“Where do you live?” Emma asked, earning her another jab from Kendall’s elbow. “What?”
“I’m in Lincoln Park, a couple of blocks north of Oz Park.”
Emma did the nudging this time. “That’s right by you,” she said to Kendall. “It’s like...fate.”
“We live in the same neighborhood?” Max asked.
Kendall stopped scowling at her sister and nodded.
“Well, then, you guys should come over and pick out a box,” he offered, even though Kendall looked mortified. There was no understanding this woman. Just when he thought they were on friendly terms, she clammed up and acted like there was something wrong with him.
“Let’s go now!” Simon said, bouncing up and down and tugging on his mother’s shirtsleeve.
Max’s
next potential employee strolled through the door. “Can’t right now, buddy.” The disappointment put a quick damper on the kid’s enthusiasm. Simon’s shoulders slumped. Max couldn’t bear it. “But maybe we can do it this weekend. You guys can stop by and find the perfect car.”
A sparkle of hope came back as Simon gazed up at his mom. “Can we?”
She chewed on her bottom lip for a second. “Sure. Why not?”
“All right. I’ll see you later, Simon. Nice to meet you, Emma.” Max made his way around the bar to greet his interviewee.
“Wait!” Simon called out. He ran over to Max and his eyes shifted to the man who had arrived for the interview. They stood there for a moment before Max realized Simon wasn’t going to say anything in front of the newcomer.
“Can you wait right over there?” Max asked the potential bartender, pointing to a table a few feet away.
Simon watched and waited until the man was a safe distance away. He held out his hand. A shiny red Hot Wheels car sat on his palm. “I have two red Corvettes,” he whispered so softly it was barely audible. He showed Max the identical car in his other hand. “Does Aidan like cars?”
Max felt his chest tighten as he stared dumbly at the toy. He was a terrible father. He didn’t even know what his son liked. “I don’t know.”
“He can have this one.”
“Thanks,” Max choked out, taking the car and slipping it in his pants pocket.
Simon beamed at him. This kid lit up whenever they were together. He had to believe he could do the same for Aidan someday. Simon gave him a boost of confidence that maybe he’d be good at this dad thing after all.
* * *
IF EVER THERE was a time when Max desperately wanted but didn’t want to want a cigarette, it was before a visit with Aidan. A few years ago, he never would have believed he’d be antsy about hanging out with a three-year-old. Fear was a common friend nowadays. Max was afraid he might never connect with his son. He was scared all the conflict between him and Katie would negatively impact his relationship with Aidan in the long run. He had already underestimated the importance of his presence when Aidan was a baby. What else could he do wrong?
He rubbed his sweaty palms on his thighs as he sat in the office that doubled as a playroom for his visits. Laura Bishop was one of five counselors who worked as supervised visitation providers at this particular center. Redheaded and in her forties, she was nice enough but almost impossible to read. Max had no idea where he stood with her. For all he knew, she could have thought he was the world’s worst father.
“I heard it’s not usually this warm in October. Maybe I brought the California sunshine with me,” he said in an attempt at making conversation while they waited for Katie to arrive with Aidan.
Laura glanced up from the paperwork that occupied her and gave him a smile that somewhat eased his nerves. “Next week, temperatures are sure to drop a good twenty degrees and it’ll probably rain. Trust me, you’ll get to miss that sunshine.”
Max missed California, period. He certainly couldn’t say that to the woman reporting back to the judge about his time with Aidan. Life was a lot less complicated out there, though. Max worked, he played, he was responsible for no one but himself. Here, he only saw his son twice a week during supervised visits, but he felt responsible to Aidan every day, all day.
The responsibility weighed heavy on him because he hadn’t taken it seriously until now. He also had yet to experience any of the joys of parenthood. He hadn’t heard “I love you” or been the reason his son smiled. Aidan hadn’t hugged or kissed his dad or shown him any affection at all. Max hadn’t earned any of that yet, but he wasn’t giving up. California sometimes called his name, but the possibility of gaining Aidan’s trust and love was worth staying put for. So every decision was made with Aidan in mind, from the neighborhood Max chose to live in to how hard he worked at Sato’s. Aidan deserved a father who followed through on his responsibilities and was successful in his career. His father should be someone he could be proud of and look up to.
Max slipped his hand into his coat pocket and touched the toy car Simon had given him. He had avoided bringing Aidan gifts during their visits because he hadn’t wanted Laura to think he was trying to buy his son’s love. He figured this one was okay since it was small, and it was really from someone else.
There was a quiet knock on the door and the receptionist pushed it open. “Mrs. Michaels is here.”
Max straightened up and ran a hand through his hair. These visits were worse than all the first dates he’d ever been on. Katie trudged in first, looking slightly harried. Her hair did not want to cooperate, falling from her ponytail as she wrestled with her bags and held tight to Aidan’s hand.
As soon as they made it inside the room, Aidan latched on to his mother’s leg. He was tall for his age, but skinny. The dark jeans he wore hung low on his hips. Paired with a blue-and-white-striped polo shirt, he looked like a kid straight out of a Gap ad. His light brown hair had a curl to it just like Max’s did when he was that age.
“Momma, stay,” he said with his hazel eyes locked on Max like he was some sort of villain.
With a bit of effort, Max was able to fake a smile. “Hey, buddy. I’m glad we get to hang out today.”
Aidan ducked his head behind Katie’s leg. “Momma, stay.”
Katie dropped her bags on one of the chairs. “I wasn’t able to get him down for a nap today, so he’s a little cranky. He refused to eat anything at snack time. I packed a couple of things if he gets hungry. Can he have a juice box in here?” she asked Laura.
While the two women discussed what Aidan could and could not eat and drink in the office, Max tried to engage with the little boy. He crouched down so they would be eye to eye—that had seemed to help Simon earlier today. “No nap today, huh? I didn’t like taking naps when I was little, either. Who wants to nap when there’s so much fun stuff to do, right?”
Katie scooped their son up and frowned down on Max. “Aidan loves his naps. He needs a nap because he’s three. We didn’t get one today because we met Daddy for lunch and we had to run some errands.” She gave Aidan a kiss on the cheek.
Max’s blood began to boil. She probably had lunch with her husband so she could mention it at this visit. As much as he appreciated that this guy had stepped up and been willing to care for Aidan in his absence, Katie was fooling herself if she thought Max was going to roll over and continue to let someone else be the only father figure in Aidan’s life. It had been a mistake to let them leave and not follow. He had no plans to be separated from his son again.
“Wow, lunch with your stepdad and playtime with your dad. What a day. Sounds like Mommy needs a nap.” Max held out his arms so she could hand Aidan over.
Katie could dish it out, but obviously wasn’t in the mood to take any of his gibes. “Jason is the only dad he knows, and that’s no one’s fault but yours.”
“Well, I’m trying to change that if you’d let me.”
“And when you lose interest? When being a dad gets too hard? Then what, Max?”
Her questions were like a slap across the face. He felt their burn on his cheek. Before he could respond, Laura jumped in. “Let’s remember how many ears can hear you. This is not the time or the place for this conversation.”
Max dropped his arms and Katie pressed her lips together in a thin line. The center had strict rules about behavior during drop-off and pickup for a reason. Max silently scolded himself for the display of poor self-control in front of his son.
As soon as Katie set Aidan down, he immediately began to whine and begged her to pick him back up. It was painful to listen to him protest as she told him he had to stay and visit. How long would it take him to realize Max wasn’t such a bad guy? What would happen when the visits stretched longer than a couple of hours?
When Aidan finally gave in, K
atie’s eyes were wet with her own tears. She left the room, and the little boy wandered over to the play area. Laura’s office had a wide array of toys—trains, dolls, even a little stage for puppet shows. She had a lot of puzzles and board games for older kids, as well. Aidan pulled out some building blocks and began putting them together.
Max joined him on the floor and attempted to summon the child within himself. That was what his own mother would have done. If Aidan was more interested in the toys than his father, his father would be interested in them, too. Aidan built towers while Max made something resembling a house with an attached garage. He took the Corvette out of his pocket and rolled it into the garage.
Little fingers crossed the invisible line that had separated them and pulled the car out and pushed it back in. Hope bloomed.
“Do you like cars?” Max asked.
Aidan nodded and pulled the car out again. This time, he rolled it around the towers he built.
“You can have that one if you want. Someone gave it to me to give to you.”
He didn’t acknowledge the offer, but it made Max smile when he saw Aidan slide it into his pocket when they took a snack break. After the snack, they found more cars and trucks to play with and used the blocks to make roads. Max built a tall tower and let Aidan knock it over with the bulldozer, much to the boy’s delight. His giggles filled the room, and Max realized it was the first time he’d ever heard his son’s laughter.
Overcome, Max had to press his fingers against the corners of his eyes to keep from crying like a baby. It may not have been much, but to this father, it was everything.
CHAPTER NINE
THIS WAS A bad idea.
Max was a nice guy. He’d smiled a lot more this week and his smile was really nice. He smelled nice, better than nice. He was nice to Simon. But no matter how nice Max was, the thought of spending time with him outside of work had not been good for Kendall’s heart.
The last few nights had been filled with dreams about Trevor. Nightmares that forced her to relive the last time they’d been together—the fight, the words she wished he would have taken back. Nightmares that ended with her in a cemetery, holding Simon’s hand and a folded-up American flag.