“I’m surprised he didn’t just shoot him,” Claire says, leaning over me to get her own good look in through the window. I planted myself here the second Avery went outside, and I have no intention of leaving.
“People say I’m the ass**le,” I laugh.
“No one says you’re the ass**le, Mason,” Claire says, reaching into her purse for her keys. She’s keeping Max inside, not letting him leave until his dad—who he probably doesn’t remember and hasn’t seen in years—leaves.
“Oh, they do. I know that one does,” I say, tilting my head to the window. Claire looks out again and stares at the conversation happening outside for a while before answering.
“I won’t lie. Yeah, you’ve been the ass**le a few times for that one. But she’s got you in a whole different place now. Don’t screw it up,” Claire’s bluntness takes me by surprise. She taps her keys on the counter and pulls her bag over her shoulder before heading over to sit with Max at the booth. He’s busy on his iPad, oblivious to the domestic minefield threatening to explode all around him. I should go sit with him, too, but I’m stuck on watching over Avery.
Seconds later, the door swings open, and Avery walks in. She holds her hand up to both Claire and me to tell us she’s fine, but it’s so clear she’s not. Her face is red, and her teeth couldn’t be clenched any tighter with a vice grip. She walks straight through the bar into the back, and Claire and I follow.
“Seriously guys, I’m fine,” she says, her face buried in her locker. She’s rummaging through her work apron, and pulling out old Dusty’s shirts, but eventually she just stops, and her entire body slumps forward.
“I can’t believe that guy! What did he have to say for himself?” I let Claire ask the questions, and just lean against the wall, trying to be barely visible. I probably shouldn’t even be in here. This is something best left to her family—and Claire is like family. I’m nobody. But God, do I want to be somebody for her.
“He didn’t say much. Said he knows he owes me a lot of explanations. Asked how Ray was doing. Asked about you,” she says, swinging her arm toward her friend, her voice shaking and growing weaker with every word. “He…he asked how Max was.”
That last sentence leaves her breathless. There are tears in her eyes again when she turns around, and I have to force myself to breathe slowly through my nose so I don’t smash a hole through the wall, or worse, race out to the parking lot and hunt Adam down.
“What a prick! Did you tell him he’d know if he had any clue what being a father was?” Claire fires back. Avery just shrugs, defeated, her body shaking more now.
“I didn’t say much,” she says, biting her lip, trying to conceal her disappointment in herself. I can feel Claire’s temper—and I love that Avery has a friend who’s so ready to battle for her. But right now, I think Avery needs to know she didn’t mess up…that it was okay to not have a knockout brawl with her ex in a parking lot. And I think if Claire keeps going, she’s just going to have Avery feeling worse. And I can’t have that.
“Well…” Claire starts, but I grab her shoulder, stopping her. She looks at my hand first, then her wide eyes flip to mine, and we have a silent conversation. She gets it, and takes a step back.
“He…uh. He wants to have dinner. I said that was fine. It’s fine, right? I mean, I should have dinner with him? See what he has to say?” she’s trembling the entire time, and her arms are wrapped around her stomach. I take my turn now, knowing that even if I’m not family, I’m needed. Avery needs me—she needs me right now.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I say, putting my hand on her shoulder, and the second I touch her, her eyes dart to mine with a look so desperate it breaks my heart. She’s terrified, and I would give anything to take that away. But I know I can’t.
“Right. It’s fine,” she nods over and over again, and I mimic her slowly.
“It will be fine,” I say, knowing that if it’s not—that if that f**ker does one thing, says one thing, to make Avery not fine, I will mess him up beyond recognition.
Chapter 10: Just Dinner
Mason
I went home with Claire and Avery. There was no way I could stay at the bar knowing what Avery was going through at home. I stayed in the kitchen and watched Claire work with Max, walking him through his folder from school, and explaining what homework is. She’s amazing with him—the way he responds to her. It’s hard to believe she’s working in a bar and not doing this—working with kids like Max—fulltime.