Max drank his beer, shrugging again. “Nah, it won’t be so bad. A week after I’m gone, you’ll barely miss me.”
But Mateo didn’t joke back. And I busied myself with eating instead of clinging to Max’s arm like the girlfriend I actually wasn’t.
“I’ll tell you right now, that won’t be the case,” my dad said with an extra-kind smile my way. “Regardless of where you end up, Max, you’ll always be family around here.”
“Thank you,” Max said. “And, uh, are we gonna see an intimate Hand Grenades show or what?”
“Yes, you damn well are,” my mom said. She spun out of her chair. “I see Vanessa and Hank coming up the walk now.”
“I’ll order some more Thai food,” Rafael said. “And beer.”
The rest of The Hand Grenades members appeared, setting the practice in motion, and it wasn’t long before the garage filled with the sounds of my parents practicing the songs they’d be playing at The Red Room benefit show. We shared food and shared beer and even more stories.
Max tucked me against his side, one arm holding me tight, and kept his lips in my hair for most of the evening.
And I worried—desperately—that even after one date, I was already too far gone for him.
31
Max
It was just after 5:00 pm, and I was supposed to be planning the menu for the dinner I was cooking for Fiona tonight on our second date. But instead, I was currently sitting across from Pop at one of the chessboard tables at Central Park, contemplating calling Fiona for backup instead.
We were having a Pop Dating Emergency.
“You sure you want me to call her?” I asked one more time.
Pop shook his head, looking green around the gills. “Yeah. Fi’s got, you know, experience dating.”
I pointed at my chest. “Uh, so do I?”
He gave me a pointed look. “It’s not dating in the same way, though.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then shut it. He was right. “Okay, old man. Give me a sec.”
I stood up, jamming one hand in my back pocket, and called Fiona. The instant she picked up, her warm-honey voice made me feel like a million fucking bucks. “Are you calling to say you’re obsessed with me and can’t wait until tonight?”
Yes, I fucking am.
“I wish I was calling about that,” I said. “Actually, the Devlin men need your dating expertise.”
“Is everything okay?”
I looked over my shoulder at Pop. Who did not look well. “Well… no. Angela is meeting Pop here at Central Park in about an hour, and my dad is moments away from having a stress-induced heart attack, I think.”
Which I related to, given the number of terrifying heart sensations I’d experienced since Fiona had climbed onto that fire escape.
“I’m assuming you have meetings, so its fine if you can’t come. But if you are a little free, Pop needs a pep talk, I think.”
In the background, I heard her fingers typing quickly on a keyboard. A bit of paper shuffling. “This is perfect timing. I can sneak off for an hour. I just need to grab a cab and relay a few messages to my secretary.”
I let out a big sigh. “Much appreciated.”
“I’ll see you at the chessboards.”
“And I am obsessed with you,” I said. “I want to make that clear.”
“I knew it.”
Chuckling, I turned back to Pop, flashing him a thumbs-up. Then realized another call had come through while I’d been chatting. I assumed it was Charlie, the guy from Rusty’s. Which made my stomach jump all over the place—and not in the good way.
But it wasn’t Charlie at all. I’d missed a call from my mom.
“You okay, Max?” Pop asked.
I rubbed my forehead. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, just spaced for a second. Fiona’s on her way. You know she’ll help.”
Pop’s knee was shaking like a leaf in a storm. I touched it, tried to catch his eye. “It’s only first date nerves, right? Nothin’ else is wrong?”
Pop tore up a napkin into tiny little pieces. “I haven’t, like, tried to do this since your mom left. So I’m extra, extra nervous. Used to keep dating to a minimum. Kind of…” He trailed off, looking a little embarrassed. Talking about sex with your son probably felt like eating hot coals to my dad.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I get it. You weren’t doing anything real romantic.”
“Yeah, no.” He shook his head. “Me and Angela, though, we’ve been talking for a while. I like her.”
“That’s good, Pop,” I said. “I know why you’re nervous.”
He ripped up some more pieces, arranged them into a tiny little stack. “Because of being hurt, of feeling hurt, I didn’t want to ever do it again. Your mom, well, her personality was always pretty flighty. I was the first guy she’d ever stayed with. When we got married at City Hall, I couldn’t believe it. Your grandmother told me I was making a huge mistake. But you were born a year later, and then I knew why I’d met your mom. It was so that I could have you.”
Me and Max were a real team.
I was silent. Totally unable to crack a joke or a smile or do my Max Devlin thing.
“But I remember that first year,” Pop continued. “I’ve been through a lot of tough shit, especially with The Red Room. Running that business ain’t easy but having your mom leave was worse. Makes me a little gun shy.”
I reached out, grabbed his hand. “Pop. I’m so sorry. About mom, about not being here. You deserve better.”
“I want… I don’t know, to not throw up or make a complete fool of myself.”
I laughed. Understood he’d reached his emotional limit. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Fiona walking towards us in a cream-colored pantsuit, red lips quirked in my direction. Last night, I’d gotten to hold a sleepy, cuddly Fiona against my chest while listening to her parents play music next to Mateo and Rafael and Pop. I’d been confused as fuck after, but that didn’t mean I’d felt bad during. Nope. I’d felt safe and happy and only had to put up with Mateo teasing me about smelling Fiona’s hair like a weirdo for a little bit today.
Honestly? I’d spent the whole day wearing a goofy grin as I called bands and confirmed their time slots for the benefit show. I knew I needed to be thinking about L.A. and getting a place and shipping my stuff. But I wanted to just hang out with my dad and take Fiona on dates.
“Well, don’t worry,” I said. “Wonder Woman is here.”
She waved at me as she approached. My palms activated their sweat glands, and about a million dumb jokes came to mind.
“Max.”
“Yeah, Pop?” I was still staring at Fiona, watching her like a slow-motion movie.
“She’s the best of us.”
His words startled me out of my dreaming. “Wait… what?”
“Fiona.” He nodded at her. “She’s the best. I’ve known her most of her life. She’ll fight for what’s right and keep that family together, and she’ll never, ever, let you down. And she’s head over heels for you, Max.”