Avery keeps coming downstairs, asking us questions about what she should wear. She finally settles on a pink and yellow dress that ties behind her neck. It’s beautiful—she’s beautiful. And that dickhead Adam doesn’t deserve it.
Avery’s nervous—first-date kind of nervous. She’s sitting at the kitchen table with us, just chewing her nails, and watching the clock. She’s meeting Adam somewhere in town, not wanting him to come near the house—near Max—until she knows more.
When the time comes for her to leave, she stands and walks with Claire to the door, away from Max’s view, and gives her friend a hug. I stay in my place at the table, but I catch her eyes, and when I do, she keeps them on mine. I nod slowly, letting her know she can do this—she can handle whatever he throws at her. Her eyes are telling me she can’t, but I know she can. And I’ll be right here, waiting for her to come home.
I help Claire get Max ready for bed, watching her go through the list with him one item at a time—teeth brushing, pajamas, story time. I ask Max if I can read tonight, and he’s surprisingly okay with it.
“You have to read all of chapter eleven. That’s where we stopped; it was eleven. Make sure you read eleven,” he’s very insistent, and it makes me smile. I’m tempted to tease and start with chapter twelve instead, but I know Max isn’t someone you can do that with.
“Chapter eleven, The Rules of Gravity,” I pause for a second to look over the back and front cover of the book. It seems kind of advanced, and I look at Claire who just shakes her head and smiles, so I get comfortable on the floor next to Max’s bed and read on. “Gravity is a natural force that gives weight to an object. It is the force that attracts all heavenly objects to one another.”
I read three pages of something that feels more like a sixth grade text book, and I notice the few times I look up at Max, that his eyes are closed tightly, but his lips are saying the words along with me. I can’t help but smile at my inner thoughts; knowing how easy science is going to be for this kid. He may have so much to overcome socially, but hell…I would have given anything to understand half the crap I just read. And I’m twenty-five!
When I’m done, we shut off the light, and tiptoe the rest of the way out of Max’s door. Max isn’t asleep yet; I can tell he’s not. But Claire says he’ll lie there and pretend until he actually falls asleep—because that’s what he’s supposed to do.
“I’ll stick around, wait for her to get back,” Claire says, picking up our plates from the table, and cleaning up the kitchen from our small mess.
“You don’t have to. I mean…I’m not going anywhere,” I say, unable to hide the guilty grin on my face.
“No band tonight?” she says, dusting away the last few crumbs from one of the chairs before pushing it in all the way.
“Nah. I texted Ben, told him we’d hook up tomorrow night and rehearse,” I say, pushing my hands in my pockets and holding my breath, almost like I’m waiting for her to change her mind.
Claire studies me for a few extra seconds, her eyes focused and intense, before giving in. “Okay. I’ll call it a night then,” she says with a shrug. “If you think you’ll be okay.”
“I’ll be okay. If Max wakes up, I’ll just follow his lead,” I say, and she pauses to look up the stairs before coming back to me.
“He likes you, Mason. She likes you, too,” she says with a certain sense of warning to her tone. I don’t have a reply for her, and I don’t think she wants one—she wants me to know how Avery feels. For some reason, Claire is rooting for me, and I’ll take anyone in my corner that I can get.
I walk Claire to the front door, and flip the porch light on so she can see her way to her car, and so Avery can see her way home. “Remember what I said, Mason,” Claire hollers over her shoulder while she opens up the passenger door and dumps her stuff inside.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Don’t f**k this up,” she says, her smile big, and I hold up two fingers, giving her my scout’s honor. Yeah, I’m a real Boy Scout.
I don’t know what I was expecting when Avery came home. For the next two hours, my emotions pretty much run the gamut, and the longer it takes, the more stressed out I get, until I’m full-on pacing from the kitchen to the living room. I actually pick up a book that’s sitting on the coffee table, some stupid romance of Avery’s, and I even read a few pages—like I’ve read a book…for fun…ever! I feel like the father of a teenage girl—the way I keep flipping up the blinds with every set of spotlights that come down the road, and when it’s finally hers, I can’t help but open the front door and stand out on the porch.