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Everyone who knows us, knows Max and I come from different sides of the tracks. I’m the chick with a single dad, and that single dad wasjusta manual labor worker.
The waitress flutters her lashes and giggles obnoxiously. I can’t even blame her. Objectively, Max is a handsome man. In a preppy, snobby, but beautiful way. And she, while trying to appear as though she wants to get back to work, has her boobs thrust out so far, I fear that she might fall over.
Though Casey and I watch him in silence, his eyes still come up as though I shouted. He takes a step in my direction, but as he turns to walk away from Betty, he looks back and tells her something in quiet whispers. She blushes and hurries back to the kitchen. And I simply roll my eyes.
He walks toward us with his pretty smirk and arrogant eyes. “Hey, ladies. What’s up?”
“Max.” Casey greets him with narrowed eyes. She likes him much,muchless than I do, and I think she’s equal parts worried and excited that I might hit him with a chair. “What’ve you been up to? Didn’t see you there today.”
“Ah yeah, soz.” He actually says ‘soz.’ Not sorry, but soz. I feel like I’m going to fall over from the momentum my eye-rolling causes. “Yeah, anyway,” he clears his throat. “Me and the guys got in pretty late last night. Slept in.” He rubs his belly obnoxiously. “I’m still a little green, so I came in here looking for something to eat…”
At some point in a woman’s life, months or years after breaking up with someone, you get that feeling in your stomach, the revulsion as the question flashes through your mind,what was I thinking?
Max and I are still together, and yet the revulsion hits me hard.
Max is a legit douche.
And he still hasn’t answered for missing my dad’s funeral.
Case looks like she’s about to take my imaginary chair and beat him to death, so I turn and take her arm. “Go for a walk, Case. Make sure everything’s okay.” My extended family are all in one place for the first time in about fifteen years, which I have no doubt will inevitably lead to drama. I don’t want drama. I just want to go home.
I give her a literal shove and send her away when she hesitates, and as I turn back to Max, he takes my arm and pulls me into his chest. I go willingly, because I’m an idiot, but also because I need comfort. And as my boyfriend, that should be his job. I move in and try to tuck my head under his chin, but despite this being a wake, he angles his face and brings his lips down on mine. When his tongue snakes out and dashes across my bottom lip, I pull away and jerk my elbows from his hands.
I’m not even that angry. He’s exactly who I knew he was, so I simply turn and walk away.
I can still smell the cigarettes on his breath, and the perfume on his shirt.
Fucking pig.
I catch up to Casey as she circulates the manicured yard, and an hour later with drama simmering in the air that threatens to explode, I call time on this circus. It’s time for Jack and me to go back to our lives, and for everyone else to go home to pretend my brother and I don’t exist.
Casey and I go in search of Jack, since we haven’t seen him since we walked in. When we step around the rose trellis at the back of the yard to find him and several of my relatives sitting around telling stories of‘times gon’ by,’my eyes snap wide at the bottle of beer clasped tight in his large hand.
A beer.
In. His. Hand.
A fucking beer!
I storm forward and snatch the bottle away, and turning on my audience, I search out my uncle. “What the hell is the matter with you? He’s fifteen!” I spin back to Jack and attempt to drag him to his feet, but fifteen or not, he’s easily sixty pounds heavier than me. “Get up, Jack. We’re going.”
He’s a stumbling mess that sends my blood roaring like a dragon’s fire. I drag him along in as straight a line as I can manage.
I lead him through the garden and hope to God none of Max’s family see this. I’m so embarrassed and feel like I’m already failing at my new role as parent. My first day on the job and my charge is drunk.
Fuck. My. Life.
I pull Jack into the front yard without saying goodbye to my family or hosts. I don’t have the energy for false pleasantries. I buried my dad today. I’m done. I’m over it. I’m out.
Jack’s six-foot frame stumbles as we move, and furious, I shove his head low as he slides into the low car.
Casey exits the estate and turns north toward my house, and though Jack busily texts in the back seat with a goofy smile, I ignore him as best I can. I’m three seconds from losing my shit. I can’t take anymore today.
We pull into the driveway of my two-story house straight out of the nineteen-sixties, and climbing out of the car in the late afternoon light, I push him up the front stairs and inside. “Get inside. Sober up. Go to bed.”
He scoffs drunkenly and sways on his feet. “I wanna go drink with Aunt Lees. They invited me.” He shows me his locked phone. “See?”
“Not even a little bit tempting, dumbass. Get inside.”
