What should I say? What could possibly fix the damage I’ve created by mentioning her name? I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him tight against my body. I wished I could’ve taken back the last half hour; I wouldn’t have mentioned Dead Mallory at all.
“Max, I am so sorry,” I breathed into his chest. I could feel his heart pounding through his shirt.
“It has taken me a long time to get to the place where I am at now. I really am sorry I didn’t talk to you about her sooner, before my sister decided to bring her up. Camille’s never met her; nobody in my family ever had a chance to meet her. They judged her on the words and descriptions I’d given them and how her suicide put me in a very dark place. So, if they were harsh, it was because of me. They didn’t know her. Not like I did.” I felt his breath waft across my scalp as his words tangled in my hair. He teetered on the edge of a guilt that was unbearable. I couldn’t let him lose his balance.
“Maybe, in a weird way, your sister was trying to protect you by telling me about Mallory. Maybe it was her way of seeing if I was all in; if I was serious about you and me.” I looked at him, trying to see if he had already gone to the place where I wouldn’t be able to get him back.
“So are you?” he asked low.
“Am I what?” I asked.
“All in?” he continued. I knew what he was talking about.
“I am totally—completely—into you.” I stood on tip-toe and pushed him against his car. Our lips met and every remnant of damage dissolved in the flavor of our kiss.
My butterflies went spastic with the taste of him and I knew at that point we were all in—both of us.
It didn’t take long to warm up to a comfortable heat and we began to defrost the chill that had come between us while standing in the bitter cold garage; it made for a perfect fusion of raging hot and subtle cold.
Dragging his hands across my back, Max pressed me so tightly against his chest I felt our arms create a cocoon and our bodies melt together. I loved feeling him breathe, tasting his words, living at home in his thoughts, and feeling the vibration of his heart as it soothed me.
Chapter Eight
The spring on the garage door into the kitchen stretched and hummed a note when Max and I came back into the house. Nancy must’ve heard it because, before the door closed behind us, she was in the kitchen.
“Oh, there you are. I went into the other room and noticed that your sandwiches were there but you guys were gone. Everything okay?” she asked as her eyes danced from Max to me.
“Yeah, Mom, everything’s fine,” Max nodded. Nancy’s eyes grew as she cocked her head. That must have been her nonverbal cue to him not to lie. He widened his eyes in answer to the look on her face.
“Mom, really, I’m fine—we’re fine.” He grabbed my hand and pushed his other between us. Letting go of me, he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her worries into oblivion.
She clung to him. The top of her head fit perfectly under his chin and her delicate hands rubbed circles across his back.
“I don’t want Camille’s thoughtless comment to ruin Wilson’s birthday,” she said.
“Little late on that one, mom,” Max snapped as he pulled away.
Nancy held her hands out to me then, and I meandered over to her. She placed her arms across my shoulders.
“Well, I’m serious. It’s your day, Wilson.” Nancy tucked my hair behind my shoulders. I could see where Max inherited his gorgeous, green eyes. I was mesmerized by her. She was able to convince us to sit at the butcher block-style island and finish our lunch.
“No worries,” I mumbled. How was I supposed to react to the situation? I hated confrontation—so if there was any way to avoid it, I would.
It wasn’t long before we inhaled our lunch and Nancy was working to make everything perfect again.
“So, Maxi, what are your plans for tonight?” Nancy asked as she plunged her hands under the running faucet.
My breath broke from my lungs, refusing to return. I gasped for a small morsel of air. Suddenly, visions of us together in his sun-saturated bedroom crammed my head—the soft silk of what I wore, how it felt as he kissed me and caressed my skin. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks. I glanced over at him, our eyes met, and a crooked smile that nourished his eyes and pulled at my heart rose across his face.
“Ahh, Ma, nothing much; maybe we’ll have a little dinner before calling it a night. Wilson and I are pretty tired.” Max looked over at me for validation. I just gave a slight smile before I dropped my eyes to my empty plate.
“Oh, Maxi, now it isn’t every day Wilson’s here. And for her birthday, no less. Don’t you want to do something special for her? Maybe take her down to the shops on South Galena Street?” Nancy pulled a black and white checkered microfiber towel from the brass hook next to the sink to dry her hands.
“Ma, come on.”
“Well, honey, just because you don’t like to shop doesn’t mean Wilson feels the same way. She might really enjoy going downtown. Besides, the Twelve Days of Aspen is in full swing and it looks absolutely stunning down there with all the lights,” Nancy pushed as her attempt to bring us all back to normal was plastered across her face.
What she didn’t know was, I was never one to go shopping; I knew when to call a spade a spade. Nothing was going to change the fact that I didn’t have the unlimited supply of funds that most girls at my school had. Ninety-nine percent of the students at Wesley had their daddy’s credit cards or access to an allowance that eclipsed my grandfather’s pension and social security. And without fail, someone would always try and make me out to be their charity case for the year.
Max just shook his head, smiling.
“Well if you don’t take her, then I will. Right, Wilson?” Nancy pushed her hand between my elbow and hip and locked her arm with mine.
“Oh, Nancy…” I tried to answer her before Max interrupted me.
“Alright, Ma, geez, twist my arm. Maybe after dinner we’ll cruise downtown.”
“And that’s how I get my way,” Nancy whispered into my ear before she let go of my arm and walked out of the kitchen, adding, “My work here is done. Happy Birthday, Wilson.”
Max wrapped his arms around my waist, brought his nose to the back of my neck and whispered, “She’s impossible.”
“I heard that,” Nancy sang.
Max giggled, tickling the back of my neck. Chills hurried through my body, searching for the butterflies Max cultivated.
“I knew you would,” Max hollered as he looked up at the ceiling.
“Growing up with her must’ve been amazing.” I turned around to him.
“We had our moments,” Max said before he stepped back from me and ran his hands down to mine. He held my hand as he pushed under my chin. My head rose, our eyes met, and I watched his expression constrict. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away about…” Max swallowed. I noticed her name caught on the pain that swelled in his chest. “…Mallory,” he managed.
“Don’t apologize. I can see why it was so hard to bring her up,” I whispered.
His eyes glossed with the memories of Mallory. There was nothing anyone could do to change the way I’d found out about this thing that was so personal and still so raw to him. Maybe Camille telling me was the only way it was going to come out. Who knew if he was ever really planning on telling me about Mallory?
“I just want to keep you—” he started to say.
“Safe?” I interrupted him, “You can’t keep me safe from anything if I don’t feel in danger.”
“I was going to say ‘to myself’.” He grabbed at the belt loops of my jeans and pulled me closer. A smile slinked across his face.
“Yeah, right; I bet those words were just waiting to roll off your tongue,” I teased as he leaned and swayed into me.
“Don’t believe me? Taste then.” He kissed me; our tongues tangled in truth as my stomach twisted with excitement. His hands pressed at the curve of my lower back, his palms scorched through my ca
shmere sweater. He slipped his fingertips between the waist of my jeans and my skin. Believe me, it didn’t take long to notice how much he wanted me all to himself.
For a moment, nobody hampered our time or interrupted our exploration. Time stood on our side and I could feel how much we sought each other as every desire fluctuated between us.
But then Camille came through the door. “Oh, sorry didn’t know I was interrupting you.” She froze before taking a couple steps back and turning toward the dining room.
I pushed away from Max, swirling embarrassment surging my entire body. Oh. God! Did she just see where my hands were? I lowered my head and totally avoided looking at her. My cheeks burned as the muscles in my face tightened to broadcast my humiliation. SHIT—I don’t want to be that type of girl. I didn’t want his family to think I was easy. I pushed my fingers up and through my hair, and tucked it behind my ears.
Max let go of me and called to his sister, “Camille! Hey, come here.” He sped to stop her from leaving the room.
“No, I’ll come back later.”
“Hey, now wait.” Max caught her.
“Dad wanted you and Wilson to come play a game of pool. I’ll just tell him you’re busy. It will give him an excuse to brag about how scared you are of getting your butt kicked by him—yet again.” Camille plastered a smirk on her face.
Max looked over at me. His face grew red. I could tell this must be an ongoing dig between him and his family. I shrugged my shoulders and gave him a ‘go kick some ass’ nod. He flashed a perfect grin.
Max turned back to his sister and growled, “Tell Dad—game on.” And with that, Camille’s choice to tell me about Mallory became something of the past between them. Camille turned and sped out to the great room. Max came over to me, wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and squeezed me tightly against his body.
“You ready to kick some butt? I’m relying on you to help me get over my losing streak with my dad and Camille.” Max grabbed my hand. Watching my reaction, he pulled me out of the kitchen and sped through the dining room backwards. I felt the muscles across my back tighten and knot at the thought of going up against any one of the Goldsteins in pool. I hope Max isn’t serious about winning with me as his partner.
“Who was your partner before?” I asked hesitantly.
“Cal, but you’re almost guaranteed to be better than him. He totally sucks,” he snickered as he leaned toward me.
“So you’re saying I’m just a little better than sucky?” I pouted.
“No, just inexperienced, that’s all.” His eyes twinkled and a smile broke bright across his face. God, he is so sexy.
“Like inexperience is a good thing, huh? Just wait, maybe I’m better than you think.” I punched at his stomach as I felt the innuendos of our conversation fall into a pattern that meant so much more to me than a pool game.
Max stopped walking and I ran into him. My butterflies dropped really low in my gut.
“It is a great thing because I can’t wait to feel your inexperience. Besides, I get to be partners with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. So no matter what the outcome, I’ll win,” he growled in a sexy, low voice as he slid his hands around my back and swayed his body close to mine.
“Oh, so you’re sure you’ll get to score?” I teased.
“Well, if history repeats itself and I can get further than the last time we played pool, I think I’ll score—big time,” he said.
I cherished the way he enticed me. The way his words tickled and tangled with mine, and how we both knew what we said revealed so many facets to the diamond buried in our mountain of discovery.
Max snatched my hand and pulled me into the great room. Frank and Camille were already there, choosing their pool sticks. I watched as the sunlight poured from the skylights and danced across the space in between their smiles, and my familiar ache to belong.
“Okay, you guys, you ready to lose? I can feel it in my bones. This time I’m coming out on top,” Max challenged as he clasped his hands and glanced at me with a naughty smile before he rubbed them feverishly back and forth, declaring, “I have a new partner and I’ve come up with a whole new strategy; so prepare to go down!”
My body reacted when he smiled at me. I couldn’t wait to be alone with him.
“Yeah, right, how about taking all that hot air and channeling it into choosing your cue?” Frank snorted as he pointed to the rack of pool sticks on the wall.
Camille laughed, “Oooh, big words. Let’s just see how you are against me and Dad. See, Wilson, Max and Calvin have never been able to beat us. One time they came close, but they ended up scratching when they called the wrong pocket on the eight ball.”
Suddenly I could feel the weight of my realization as it crashed against me. I was a part of something bigger than my own limited definition of a perfect family. Something I’ve been missing my entire life.
Chapter Nine
I wish I could say it was totally amazing watching Max and his sister banter back and forth with their father. Instead, it made me ache to have one last moment with my grandfather. God, I wish I could just curl up in that safe spot within me that didn’t recognize what a father was supposed to be like; but I couldn’t. I had to swallow the nasty taste that showed up on the back of my tongue and push away the sadness that kept surging within me. It was a relentless sadness that searched for all the cracks in my façade.
“Your turn, sweetheart,” Max said as he pointed his stick to the table. “Wilson, hello…we might have a chance here.” He waved his hand in front of my face. I blinked hard before coming back to the room.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. I looked at the pool table and instantly forgot how I was supposed to hold my stick. I couldn’t remember if it was supposed to be tight across my chest or clutched in my hand, resting on the felt. Confused, I looked at Max; he leaned against my back and wrapped his arms around mine, showing me how to snap the pool stick against the cue ball. I blushed. He felt so warm and smelled so delicious I wanted to get lost in his perfection. Why can’t I find the right words that force me to live in the moment of complete discovery? What has to happen to stop the deluge of all my underestimated moments?
“You okay?” Max whispered against my ear. His breath was hot and his question unhurried.
“Yeah, just taking it all in,” I breathed low.
Camille watched us, smiling, before she busted in with a snide remark about team players having to make their own shots. Max huffed at her and stepped back from me. The rush of cool air waiting to replace him pressed before I bent over the table, feeling the edge of my skin meet the chill in the air. The next thing I knew, I cracked a shot, knocking the solid yellow nine ball into the right corner pocket.
“I knew it. Nice one!” Max said before he turned to Camille and gave her a ‘take that’ scowl. I couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride exploding inside me. Maybe this could be my game! I strutted around the table, making sure everyone knew I had another chance to knock one of those solid colored balls into the braided leather baskets. That’s right, little ol’ me. It was my job to decide our immediate future and whether Max and I were going to be contenders.
“Looks like the birthday girl gets to shoot again,” Nancy said as she walked in with a couple of drinks. “Here you go, you thirsty?” She handed me a tall glass of frothy lemonade.
“Hey, hon, what about me?” Frank whined as he threw his hands into the air.
“Well, yours is still in the kitchen. I only have two hands, and guests get theirs first,” Nancy snapped playfully.
“Aahh, come on, the minute she dropped that ball in the pocket, she wasn’t a guest anymore. Anyone beating me at my own game…” he laughed as he went to Nancy and gave her a peck on the cheek.
“Oh careful, Frank, I don’t want to spill Camille’s drink.” She lifted the glass toward her daughter, holding it from the side and underneath, making sure it didn’t drip on the floor or spill from the brim. Her hands were so delicate, youthful, and
feminine. Nancy smacked Frank on the rear as she left the room. But not before she called back to him, telling him that his and Max’s drinks were coming.
It was these little mannerisms that comforted me into believing a family like this could exist. But there was this huge part of me that felt like a fly on the wall—an intruder in a kingdom that only existed in fairy tales.
“How is it, Wilson?” Frank asked, his big dirt-brown eyes rounded and his clean-shaven chin pushed forward. Of course he asked right as I had just taken a huge gulp.
“Mmm, it’s really good. Different than I’m used to,” I answered, wiping my lips dry and covering my mouth just in case I spit any frothy ice out with my words.
“Well, that’s because my wife makes the best Lemon Fizzies.”
“Wow, never heard of a Lemon Fizzie.”
“Its Mom’s creation,” Camille answered.
“Now, Camille, it isn’t like that.” Nancy came back into the room with Lemon Fizzies for Max and Frank.
“Thanks, Ma,” Max cooed as she handed him his drink.
“So what do you think?” she asked me.
“Reminds you of something you’ve tasted before, right?” Max asked me. His eyes twinkled; I knew he was talking about the Skip and Go Naked I’d shared with him at Cindy’s cabin.
“Yeah, it’s good. What’s in it?” I asked.
“Well, my dear, that is top secret,” Nancy teased. I could feel my attention shift from being a pool player to wanting to know what was in the drink. Max noticed that I was becoming lost in his mom’s charm.
“Hey, now—are we going to be talking Fizzies all night or are we going to finish this game?” Max took a swig of his drink, then set it down on a tall captain-type table against the wall.
Nancy gave Frank his drink, but not before he said his thanks and mumbled something about loving her more than pool.
Wilson Mooney Eighteen at Last Page 7