by HJ Bellus
I’ve debated about taking her out on a lunch date, and by lunch date, I mean picking her up at school, bringing her back here to my house, and rattling the walls until Kate forgot her name.
“That’s the greeting I get?” I drop my head, running my nose up and down the crook of her neck. She’s beautiful from head to toe. This spot is my favorite part.
“Oh hey, M-Max,” she stutters, dropping the boxes of cookies on the counter.
“Hey, you,” I respond, roaming a hand up her baggy sweater until I’m cupping the swell of her breast in my hand.
Kate bucks into me, tugging my hair back. It’s a sign for me to stop and continue on full force at the same time.
“Where’s Finn?” she whispers.
I drop my other hand down between her legs, cupping her center through her leggings. Kate can’t help but buck into my touch.
“That’s it, baby.” I move my hand, matching her rhythm, wanting more than anything to get this beauty off on my touch right now.
“Max, stop,” she moans, writhing her hips harder and faster.
“That’s it.” I grind my hard-on into her thigh. “I want to taste you so fucking bad right now.”
“I want you too, Max.” My name comes out in a high pitch, then her body relaxes. The way she clenches my hand damn well lets me know she just had a damn good orgasm, courtesy of me in my kitchen.
“Can I have your cookies now?” I kiss her cheek, wink, and force myself to step back from her.
Perfect timing as Finn rushes around the corner with a bright red tie dangling from his pocket and his football t-shirt proudly on display. “I’m ready, Max-Dad. Kate, you are here!”
I’m chopped liver as he races to her. He stops right before he reaches her; there are no hugs or high fives. He shoves out his chest in honor, then slicks a hand through his hair. Kate and I both bite back our laughter at the same time.
“How do I look?” he asks, tucking his hands in his pocket.
He has a hell of time with the right pocket as the tie gets in the way.
“Like a million dollars.”
Finn rolls his eyes. “I don’t look like a stack of bills. I look handsome.”
“That you do.” Kate smiles wide.
“Little man, did you want to wear that tie?” I sit in the kitchen chair next to him.
He rolls his head back and forth. “I like it, but it looks good hanging out of my pocket.”
I concentrate on inhaling and exhaling. A tie is made to be worn around your neck while in a dress shirt. It looks ridiculous hanging out of his pocket. I fight back the urge to pursue a conversation about this. Finn wins every time, and I’m okay with that, because like Kate said, he’s happy and healthy.
“Don’t you think, Dad?” Finn tilts his head, waiting anxiously on my answer.
Now I’m having a hard time breathing. It’s the first time he’s used the term of endearment without stuttering over it or creating a new nickname. We’ve had a whole week in the house together. It’s been perfect, tough as hell, and so very worth it all at the same time.
I’ve watched him drench his macaroni and cheese in ketchup, hide his new backpack in the closet so nobody would steal it, and second-guess climbing into a bed every night. All of it tugged at my patience. I wanted more than anything for my son to be like other kids his age who are worried about the latest trends, begging to go on play dates, and enjoying the mud while they splashed around in it. I was so very wrong in my thoughts about what an ideal son looks like. Finn keeps proving this fact over and over again.
“I couldn’t agree more.” The four words barely come out through my emotionally choked throat. “It’s perfect.”
And that’s the honest to God truth. I’ve never been surer about anything else before.
“Hey, don’t we have to be in Boone in like ten minutes?” Kate asks.
“We do!” Finn jolts for the door. “I’m going to meet people. I have people to meet. Let’s go.”
I grab Kate’s hand and we follow Finn to my truck. I voice out loud my internal concern. “Let’s hope he’s this excited when we get there.”
Kate, ever my voice of reason and love, assures me he won’t be.
“Yeah, won’t happen. It will take Finn time to warm up. He loves the idea of meeting new people in a safe place, but he will become overwhelmed.”
“Maybe not.” I wink at her. “My family has a damn good way of prying any wayward person right out of their comfort zone.”
I get Finn all settled in his booster seat. Freaked the shit out of me when I read about kids under a certain weight and age should never ride in the front seat. After researching, I realized it was because of the airbags. Well, this old piece of metal doesn’t have any of that shit.
Kate slides into the middle, and Johnny Cash entertains us on the drive. Not a word needs to be spoken.
“Dad!” Finn screams.
On instinct, I slam on the brakes. A horn blares behind me as I jerk the truck off the road. I glance over to Finn with a thousand horses stampeding over my heart. His tiny finger is pressed against the window.
“That’s the same store where Harriet bought me my football shirt. Not the same exact store but the same one,” he proudly announces.
I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles grow white. Kate’s hand remains over her chest where she slapped it when she thought we were dying. My nostrils flare, relieving some of the panic and anxiety that just went down.
“Do you want one like mine?” Finn asks, keeping his finger pressed to the window while craning his neck to look at me.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat. “I sure do.”
I pull the truck into the parking lot. Finn is all business, leading us to the section of t-shirts just like his. He told us the store is laid out opposite of the one he was in. He went on about if you flipped you’d go right instead of left. Me—I’m still rattled from being scared to shit when I heard him scream.
It caught me off guard. Now, looking back, I know it was one of excitement and not panic.
We find an XXL in the youth section, and I’m bound and determined to fit into the bastard if it’s the last thing I do. Kate takes Finn out to the truck when I go into the bathroom to change out of my favorite college t-shirt that’s worn and well-loved into a stiff and scratchy generic football one. I couldn’t be prouder when I get the thing stretched out over my shoulders. I could give a fuck less if it’s tight there, but I refuse to wear a belly shirt even for Finn.
Thankfully, it’s long enough. On the downside, I look like a dude who’s been working out and over eager to show off his new muscles. I shake my head at my reflection in the mirror. This right here is true damn love.
I strut out into the parking lot like a peacock with shiny feathers. I spot the van first, then see a flash of blonde hair as Kate races to the truck. I run faster than I ever have. Adrenaline courses through my veins. If one hair is hurt on either of them, Ally will see what the true Max is capable of, and I won’t even blink when I do finish her.
I fling open the driver’s side door, on guard and ready to take care of business. I step back when I hear Finn’s laughter echoing around the cab. Kate pats the seat next to her, which is the driver’s seat. I’m still too stunned to speak yet keep an eye out around us.
“I told you, Miss Kate. I’m a faster runner than you. It doesn’t matter if my legs are shorter.”
I study Finn’s unharmed face and body. It’s his smile and carefree giggle that follows that eases all of the concern cemented on my shoulders.
“You were right. I just knew I could beat you,” she replies.
I climb into the truck, confused as hell. Kate grabs my free hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as she pats the top of Finn’s kneecap with her casted hand.
“Let’s go. Nothing else for us here.” She beams proudly.
There’s a story, and I can only guess that she spotted the van and possibly Ally. Then my quick-thinking woman challenged Fin
n to a race.
“I even beat you holding your hand.” Finn slaps his other knee, clearly amused with himself and oblivious to everything around him.
My suspicions are confirmed once we pull into my parents’ driveway and Kate slides out after me. She perches up on her tiptoes and whispers in my ear.
“It was the same van. I heard Ally but never saw her. She was screaming. That creepy guy was with her. Finn was rattling on about facts where he had to stop and count them off on one hand. Then he went on about you two in matching shirts. The van came closer into view, and I knew beyond a doubt it was them. He never heard her. That’s when I decided to declare a race.”
“Thank you.” I reach back and pat her ass before going to help Finn out of the truck.
Well, there’s no helping Finn; he has a systematic method to everything, including getting out of the truck. I wait for him, relishing the moments I get to watch my son be himself. I wouldn’t want him any other way.
A sweet little voice streams from the porch. “We ain’t buying any.”
I glance up to see Emma in a tutu with her sass on full force. Talk about a kid marching to her own drum. Emma doesn’t care what others think. She does what she wants and asks for no apologies. I love my little sister. My parents have never tried to change or mold any of us into their own vision of perfection.
“Oh, it’s Max.” She dramatically smacks herself in the forehead. “My Bubba.”
She races down the steps, bounding along the sidewalk until she’s at my side. Finn stares her down with fierce abandonment. Gasoline meet fire. Shit is about to get real.
Emma sticks out her hand. “I’m Emma Jane, and who are you?”
Finn takes a step back and points at her hand. “I’m Finn.”
Emma pretends to shake his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Want to see my swing?”
I’d give anything to stick a plug in her mouth. There’s no stopping her. She’s a tidal wave that crashes without warning. Finn hasn’t even had the chance to get his sea legs steady underneath him.
The smacking of the screen door alerts me to the fact others have joined us. I glance up to the porch to see Mom and Dad smiling wide. Kate rounds my side.
“Who is she?” Emma points. “Oh, duh, I know Kate.”
Emma rolls her eyes and slaps the fluff of her tutu. Oh, the theatrics. Mom and Dad better get ready to roll into Hollywood with this one. There’s no stopping her. She’s a miniature Whit with sass multiplied by one thousand.
“Hi, Emma.” Kate waves. “I love your tutu, and I’d love to see your swing.”
There’s my girl, saving the day with her gentle care. It’s natural. It’s her. And that’s why I love her. Emma forgets all about a little boy near her age and bounds off with Kate. Her chatter echoes around the farm.
“Was that your sister you told me about?” Finn asks, climbing back up into the truck.
“Sure is, little man, and I don’t blame you for taking shelter.”
He settles back into his booster seat. “She’s loud.”
“That she is,” I reply.
“And kind of annoying.” Finn picks at the laces of the shoes he refuses to get rid of.
“More than annoying,” I add. “Want to know why?”
This gets him to quit picking at the laces, but he doesn’t look at me. I carry on.
“She’s used to old, boring people around this place and got just a bit too excited when she saw you.”
Finn doesn’t move or say a word.
“You know I’m an old guy. You told me the other day how many years I have left until I get the senior discount at McDonald’s, and that’s what she’s used to around here. Can’t blame her for being all jacked up, seeing another cool kid around her age.”
“She’s older, Dad. You know it. Older kids are mean.”
“Yeah, they can be. Won’t deny that, but one of my best friends was two years older than me.”
“The one from the military that always tried tripping you when you walked out of the bathroom?” Finn glances up at me.
This kid is a sponge. I find myself telling him every story I can, and he doesn’t forget a bit of them. For now they’re happy and funny stories he can relate to, but as he gets older, I’ll share the stories that aren’t so easy on the heart. The ones that made me who I am today.
“Yep, that one.” I hold out my hand. “Want to meet my mom and dad?”
“Will you keep Emma away from me?”
I chuckle. “I’ll try, but I’m only human.”
I help Finn ease out of the truck. He taps the sides of it and pats his booster before walking away. His tiny hand squeezes mine so tight that I can feel his nerves mingle with my own.
“Did I mention my mom doesn’t make any little kid eat vegetables?” I look up to see Mom and Dad with huge smiles on their faces.
I can tell they’re antsy as hell to rush to Finn but hold themselves back.
“She doesn’t?” Finn stops and looks up at me.
I know this is a big deal in his book, and he’s studying me to see what my next play is. He’s been around the block and is no fool.
“She’ll cook them, don’t get me wrong.” I lean down as if I’m whispering a huge secret. “But she’s not a pusher of them. The whole bowl will go uneaten tonight.”
“Hey.” Dad opens the gate.
I squeeze Finn’s hand and go for it. “Dad. Looking old as hell!”
“You wish.” Jessie wraps me in a tight hug.
“He’s scared.” I give him my best one-armed hug.
“We got this.” He pats my back three times then steps back. “And who is this?”
Finn keeps his stare focused towards his battered sneakers. Mom clears her throat.
“Look at that, honey. Finn has a football on his shirt just like you.”
This gets his attention. Finn lights up seeing the common tie.
“I’m Jessie, little man.” Dad extends his hand while kneeling to Finn’s level.
Finn extends his hand. No pretend handshake here. “I hate football. It looks like it hurts. I’m wearing this because my dad likes football and I wanted him to like me.”
I seize in pain.
“Well, I’ve been told,” Dad stops, stroking his beard with his fingers, “that only weirdos play with a football anyway.”
Finn covers his mouth, trying to hide his giggle. It doesn’t work; the sweet sound echoes around.
“And look at your dad, he has the same shirt on. So we must be doing something right.”
Finn has warmed to Jessie, which is no shock at all. Now Mom steps up, speaking slowly. I know it’s to keep her from sweeping Finn up in her arms.
“Tonight we are having candy, ketchup, and popcorn for dinner.” She extends her hand.
Dad groans, knowing damn well he just got outplayed by his wife. That’s Mom for you, and she never takes back her word.
Finn clasps her hand and shakes it. “Finn, these are my parents, Jessie and Jules.”
One day I’ll share with him the story of how they saved me and what I went through. I’ll save my story until the day I need to use it as a gift to help empower Finn. There will be no pity or sorrow involved.
“Come on in.” Mom waves us in, and Dad wraps an arm low around her waist as we follow them.
Emma has Kate in the swing while telling her a wild story about something. Finn tugs on my hand and points over to them.
“Want to join them?” I go out on a ledge.
“Yes.”
“Go for it. I’ll be on the porch.”
Finn drops my hand. He doesn’t run like most children his age would. Instead, he’s precise about the way he takes tentative steps over to the fun. Finn doesn’t join in right away but stands back, watching the action with caution.
Emma’s voice drifts by everyone once in a while when the breeze carries it. When the topic of aliens comes up, it piques Finn’s interest. He steps right in, and I can only imagine him adding eithe
r common sense to the conversation or going on about a wild conspiracy theory. The longer the two sink deeper into conversation, the more I see Kate back away from them.
“They gonna make it or fight each other?” I ask when Kate takes the last steps with finesse and grace.
“I think they’re going to become inseparable once they both realize their love for random facts.” She goes to sit in the rocker to my left. I catch her hand before she does, tugging her into my lap. Kate doesn’t protest; instead, she curls up into me. I gently rock back and forth as we listen to Emma and Finn play.
I palm Kate’s ass and groan. It’s torture having her so close. All I want to do is ravage the hell out of her. “I’m thinking once Finn discovers Lego hell in Emma’s room after dinner that you and I will be able to sneak up to my room.”
“You want me to play with your Legos?” Kate pats my chest and giggles.
“Oh, babe, I want you to touch them, lick them, and do anything you want with them.”
“Max.” She slaps my chest. “We are not going to fool around in your childhood room while your parents are in the house. That’s just wrong.”
“I didn’t say a damn thing about fooling around. I’m going to take you anyway I want.”
***
Kate
This house is one from any heart-warming television show. It’s so different from the one I grew up in as an only child. It’s clean, but there’s also a sense of organized chaos. Cheerleading gear can be found in every corner along with football pads, toys, random clothes, and an abundance of love and chaos.
Everyone’s guards are down. I’m no longer under the microscope, being analyzed whether I’m going to ruin Max and rip his heart from his chest. The attention is focused right where it should be: on Finn. Jules came through with candy, ketchup, and popcorn for dinner. I didn’t miss the proud as hell smile on Max’s face when Finn asked for a slice of meatloaf and a half scoop of salad. Of course, he nibbled on a piece of lettuce. Okay, he actually licked ketchup off of it.
Emma begged her parents to go buy her a shirt like her brother’s and Finn’s until Jessie gave in. I had no clue what had happened until a young football player showed up at the door with a grocery sack in his hand and big smile on his face.