“What are you doing here?”
He shrugged, the gesture oddly reminiscent of his uncle. “Oh, I just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I’d grab a bite. I’m off tonight, and there’s a really bitchin’ kitchen supply store here.”
“Oh, really?” I fastened my son with a laser sharp glare. “So you’re saying that your uncle didn’t call and tell you where I’d be?”
Max looked momentarily uncomfortable. The kid hated to lie, and he was rotten at it. “Reggie didn’tcallme—” he began, and I had to chuckle.
“So he texted you.” I nodded. “Damn that guy. I’m sorry he dragged you all the way down here on your day off, son. I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“No, he didn’t text me, either.” Max shook his head. “I actually stopped in at the office, and he told me that you were in a foul mood, so he sent you away until you could act like a normal human being.”
I snorted. “He referred to me this morning as a bear.”
“And was he wrong?”
I rolled my eyes and then shook my head. “No. He wasn’t. I was being a real son-of-a-bitch.”
“Yeah, you’ve been occupying that headspace for a couple of weeks now. Care to spill your guts and tell me why?”
“Nope. It’s nothing I want to talk about.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “It has nothing to do with you or Reggie. I’ll get over it. Eventually.”
“Would you let me get away with that shit if I was sulking around?” Max inquired. “I don’t think so. I think you’d be dragging it out of me, never giving up until I finally talked.”
“Well, I’m your father. That’s my job.”
“And I’m your son—yourgrownson.” Max sat back, extending his long legs under the table. “Listening to you is part of my job, Pops. Also, in case you forgot, I love you and I want to try to help.”
Sighing, I let my head drop back. “There isn’t anything you can do. There’s nothing anyone can do, and that’s probably why I’m being such a jackass to the whole world. I feel . . .” I searched for the word. “Powerless. Like there’s no answer, and so I just have to live with things the way they are, and excuse my French, Max, but that fucking sucks.”
“Well, now we’re getting somewhere.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “It’s a woman, isn’t it? That woman from high school—the one who I looked up before you went to Florida for the reunion—she showed up, didn’t she?”
I groaned. “Are you really going to make me go through this?”
Max nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
“Fine.” I heaved a long breath. “Yes, Peyton was at the reunion.”
“And has she married the dickhead?”
I smirked. I’d almost forgotten that I’d sketched out the bare skeleton of my relationship with Peyton to Max and Reggie before I’d left for the Cove.
“No, she didn’t marry him. She left town with him and his parents, but he ran off, and so all this time, she’s been raising her baby on her own.” I paused. “Oh, and with the help of his mother. I guess Mrs. Harvey knew her son was a dickhead, and so she’s been in Peyton’s corner all this time.”
“Well, that’s great.” Max’s smile grew. “So she’s single, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“And so are you. That means the two of you finally got that second chance, right?”
I picked up my rolled cloth napkin and dropped it onto my lap. “I thought we did. We . . . reconnected at the reunion?—”
“Yeah, you did,” Max chortled until I glared him into silence.
“And since she lives in Savannah, I felt like things would work out perfectly for us. She has a daughter named Charlie—she’s just a little younger than you, actually—who’s a lawyer there.”
“Which is crazy,” Max put in. “All this time, neither of you knew how close you were, geographically speaking, that is.”
“Right,” I agreed. “So a couple of weekends ago, Peyton came down to see me—to see Burton, check out my house and everything?—”
