The house is dark—completely dark. I try to control my breathing so I can listen to see if I hear anyone, but there’s nothing. I race up the stairs, slipping on the middle few and banging my shin hard against the steps, gashing open the front of my leg. “Shit!” I say.
I push open my door and fling on the light, but no one is there. The bed is empty, and Max’s pillow and sheets are gone. For some reason, this makes me worry even more, so I race to the other end of the hall and stop at his and Avery’s door, holding my hand to my forehead and closing my lips tightly, trying not to make any noise even though I’m panting and my stomach is churning with the want to throw up. I don’t hear anything, but I’m not sure that I would. I turn the handle on his door slowly and push it open gently, careful not to let it squeal, and when I see his body laying stiff in his bed, arms straight out next to him and his eyes shut tightly, I collapse to my knees. He’s sleeping—and I watch him for a good two minutes to make sure he’s really sleeping, not just pretend sleeping.
I manage to get the door closed, and I slowly walk back to the steps. My body is drenched in sweat now, so I pull the sweatshirt over my head and throw it at my door before climbing back down the stairs to the kitchen. The lights are all off downstairs, but I can see a hint of light coming from the back yard, so I take a deep breath and push the back door open, following the sound of sweeping.
Avery’s back is to me, and she’s sweeping thousands of tiny pieces of glass into a pile in front of the trashcan. I can hear her sniffle every few seconds, and it breaks my f**king heart. I can’t believe I did this—I can’t believe I forgot, that I missed something so important.
“Let me get it,” I say, grabbing the end of the broom. She lets it go from her hands instantly, and her body just goes still. I don’t know what to say, so I just start sweeping.
Ray’s telescope is lying on its side, and I can tell from the crystals I’m piling up that his lens is what broke. That’s the first thing I’m buying with any money I make from the tour, a new one of these. I’ll just get the best one I can.
Avery walks over to the small patio table to get the dustpan, and then comes over to my pile to start scooping it into the trash. I bend down with her and grab her wrist when she does, hoping like hell she doesn’t jerk away. Instead, she starts crying.
“I totally blew it. I’m so sorry. I was out with the guys, we signed a deal, and…fuck, there’s no excuse. I’m so sorry Avery,” I say, the words coming out sloppily, though seeing all of this has me sobering up some.
“I know,” she whispers, standing back to her feet and sliding away from me a little. Her movement rips right through me, and I hate that she’s running away from me.
“Honest to God, Avery. I had no idea how late it was, and I completely forgot,” I keep saying words, like somehow one of these times I’m going to say something that’s going to make it better.
“He was pretty good at first. We were just going to watch the meteor shower without you. I told him you were stuck in traffic. But then he found this,” she says, holding out a folded piece of yellow notebook paper. I unravel it, and walk closer to the porch light so I can read what it says.
Dear Max,
I am sorry that I was not a better father to you. What you have isn’t something I can fix or make better, so I left. I know it wasn’t the right thing to do, but I just don’t know how to be your dad.
When you are older, please let me know if there is anything I can do for you. I owe you that.
Sincerely,
Your father,
Adam
That f**king douchebag! I threaten him, and I swear I plan on following through with that threat, regardless if it lands my ass in prison, and this is the letter he writes? I’m pacing now I’m so mad, and I’m about to unleash one hell of a rant when Avery’s soft voice absolutely wrecks me.
“I’d let you read the one he wrote to me, but I burned it. He said you made him send the letters, and that’s the only reason he did. What the hell were you thinking, Mason?” she says through the downpour of tears that are streaming from her eyes.
“Avery, this is not what I meant,” I say, reaching for her. She shirks away from me though, and it feels worse than being slapped.
“God, don’t even, Mason! You smell like a f**king casino!” she yells, pulling her sweater across her body tightly. “Max can read. Not well, but he can read. I didn’t see his letter tucked inside mine, and when it fell out from the envelope, he found it. Here’s the thing though—Max doesn’t know how to understand that letter. He’s black and white. And that letter? It’s gray. It’s all kinds of gray! He asked me who Adam was, and then he argued with me, saying over and over that his dad is dead. I didn’t know what to say, so I just tried to get him to come back outside. But then it was getting late, and he didn’t see any shooting stars, so he threw the telescope to the ground, screaming that I made him miss the meteor shower.”