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“Well, I h
ave a couple of seniors helping with makeup and costumes. But I need someone to lead the crew and build sets.”
I blink at her. I consider whether it is wise to play the man card and pretend I don’t know how to do things in order to get out of doing it. But hell, look at her. I mean, look at that face. Her whole heart and soul is out there. Only an asshole would say no. And I am an asshole, but not to her.
“Of course I can help.”
“Yay! The woodworking and art teachers have already agreed to supply some students to help you. If you come to the auditorium during tryouts tonight you can meet your crew!” she chirps.
“I like the idea of having minions to boss around.”
“They will love you!”
“No, they won’t. I hate other people’s kids.”
“You’re right. They won’t like you. But it’ll still be fun!”
And then I remember something. “But I can’t come today,” I say, looking over at Max who’s sitting next to me and listening to every word I say. “Max has…uhm, supervised visitation with…”
Max cuts me off by slamming his fork down and shouting, “What?”
I close my eyes and breathe for a minute. I knew this would happen. “Max, it’s OK. If the social worker allows it, I can be there.”
He howls, “I don’t want to see her!” He starts to sob and soon, other kids are staring. I wrap a protective arm around his shoulders.
Jewel shoots me a knowing look and mouths the word “Grandma?” When Max buries his face in my ribs. I nod sullenly, and she gives us both a sympathetic look.
“It’s fine,” she says. “I’ll get you the schedule of the deadlines for the set building and whatnot, and I’ll have the shop teachers contact you. They can work around you. But this does mean you will have to get a background check.”
I listen half-heartedly as I consider with dread everything that will play out this afternoon.
I have a girlfriend, a volunteer commitment, and a child with a high drama dynamic with his grandmother. And I’m starting to think this is too much for old Vince.
New Vince, however, will not give up any of it.
21
Vince
I’m told to bring Max to the main DSS office, where they have a large play area, a neutral spot where kids can mess around with toys and relatives don’t loom over them intimidatingly.
The supervising DSS worker is May, who is unfortunately no fan of mine. “Hello, Vincent,” she says with a curt nod when I walk Max inside.
“He can’t be here,” says a smoky voice from across the room.
I turn to look and it’s Max’s grandmother, the one whose boyfriend had locked Max in a closet.
May isn’t thrilled that I’m here either, by the look on her face, but she corrects the grandmother. “Max requested that he stay and the case manager approved it. But don’t worry, things are not going to get confrontational, are they, Vincent?”
Why the fuck would she ask me that right in front of Max? My protective hackles are up, but I answer the way she wants. I only want everything to go smoothly, for Max’s sake. “Of course not. I’m here to support Max.”
“I’ll bet you are,” sneers the grandmother, gesturing Max to come to her for a hug. “Baby, I missed you so much. You look tan. Have you been playing outside without sunscreen? Tell them you need sunscreen or you’re going to get cancer.”
I grit my teeth. That’s one rich statement coming from the chain-smoking grandma who barely ever let the poor kid enjoy sunshine.
Max curls into my leg and he won’t let go. “It’s OK, Max. I’m not leaving without you. We’re only here for a short while to say hello to your grandma.”
Max shakes his head, his dark curls swishing against my pant leg. I look up at May but she’s disinterested, mainly perusing the contents of a file folder.
