Savor (6 page)

What have I done? What have I fucking done?!

My body slumps onto the bed. I plant my face in my hands, clutching it tight.

This isn’t happening. This isn’t fucking happening.

The entire thing plays through my head all over again. From the minute Maxx walked in until the minute she walked out, a complete disaster. Not once did I even stop and say hello. Or that I missed her. Or that I love her. And on top of that, she’s got my kid growing in her? How the hell did this happen?

No need to be snarky. I’m having a real fucking crisis moment.

After instant replaying the words, the sounds, the motions again and again, I finally get up off my ass and toss on my jeans.

She didn’t mean it. There’s no fucking way Maxx meant what she said.

Dialing her number, I’m not surprised when it goes straight to voicemail. Fuck. Quickly, I dial Erin’s number. No answer. In disbelief, since she would answer her phone outside in a lightning storm, I try her brother’s. Then C.J.’s. No one is answering. My fists curl ready to plow a hole in the wall, knowing I fucking shouldn’t. Shakily my fingers dial another number. The Kid’s. It rings twice before going to voicemail.

Frustrated, I let out a roar before my phone vibrates in my palm.

Kid: Will text back soon.

Thankful someone finally responded, I land back on the bed, hands folded behind my head, eyes closed in disbelief.

Maxx is fucking pregnant? I don’t wanna be a dad. I can’t be a dad. You know what fucking Kellars do. My bloodline fucking kills those they love the most. I’d never lay a finger on the Kid, or a new kid, or any kid for that matter. Or Maxx. But that fucking curse…what do you mean curses aren’t real? How else do you explain those deaths at the hands of men that share my DNA?

Unsure of how long I’ve been laying in silence, I’m surprised to hear a knock at the door. I shut my eyes tight and yell, “Go away, LC!” The knocking occurs again and I shout, “I mean it, LC! Fuck off!” When the knocking turns into damn near pounding I hop off the bed, and open the door. “For fucks sake, LC—”

“Is LC the reason Mom’s ready to go home right now?”

The Kid tries to hold back a smile but can’t. Relieved to see him, I greet him the way I should’ve Maxx. With a tight hug, I say, “It’s good to see you, Kid.”

“You too,” he hugs back.

When I pull away, I notice he looks like he raided my closet for his choice of outfit.

Glad that hasn’t changed.

I give the hair on the top of his head a rub. “You need a fucking haircut.”

“Mouth.” His reminder makes me laugh. “And I know. Aunt Erin basically chases me around the house with clippers and scissors.”

“Sounds about right,” I agree shutting the door behind him. Proudly, I admire how much more he’s filled out in just the couple weeks I’ve been gone.

No, he doesn’t look like a brand new person, but he’s definitely an inch taller and a couple inches wider. Do they always grow this fast? Did I fucking grow this fast?

Before I can say anything else, he asks, “Who’s LC?”

“My very annoying, very fired after today, personal assistant.”

“Did you sleep with her?”

Taken a bit off guard I growl, “No.”

“Did you want to?”

“Kid.” I take a long breath before I snap at him similarly to the way I did Maxx. “Not your place.”

“It becomes my place when Mom comes in crying in a rage of tears telling me to pack my shit because we’re flying home right now.”

Kid’s got balls I’ll give him that. More evidence that he’s mine, huh? Not that we needed it.

“No. I didn’t wanna sleep with her.”

“Then what happened?” I shrug and flop back on the bed. When Dean lands beside me, he says, “Look. She almost didn’t even let me come see you.”

“Where are y’all staying?”

“Can’t say.”

“Kid—”

“It was part of the deal,” he answers sounding defeated. “If I promised not to tell you where we were I could come by and see you before our very early changed flight tomorrow.”

“Which flight?” The sarcastic look on his face makes me shake my head. “Maxx has that covered too, doesn’t she? Can’t tell me that either.”

“Nope.”

Swallowing my nerves I ask, “Do you know she’s pregnant?”

“Yeah!” His excitement makes me feel like an even bigger dick.

Is everyone excited about this baby thing but me?

“I got to go with her to the doctor!”

“When?”

“The day after you left.”

“She’s been pregnant that long?” I shout, and he looks frightened for a moment. Realizing I probably sound like his old man used to, I try to calm myself back down. “So that’s what was wrong with her before I left? She was…she was…”

“Yeah,” Dean answers trying to hide a smile. “Uncle Luke and I went with her to the doctor to confirm. Word to the wise. Don’t play with the doctor’s tools. You don’t know where some of that shit goes.”

“Mouth,” I mutter wondering what he’s talking about. “Why didn’t she call and tell me?”

“I don’t think she wanted to do it over the phone.”

Awkward silence fills the room.

God, I feel like even more of a jackass than I did before he got here.

“You uh…you went with her?” I question still too dumbfounded by the situation to process it.

“Yep. Saw the baby on the screen. It’s like a jelly bean.” His description is followed by a huge smile. “I’m hoping it’s a boy. That way I can have a mini me.”

“You don’t need a mini me,” I insist shaking my head.

The Kid having a mini me. If it’s a boy I’d have another son. Really? Another kid? Someone else’s life to be responsible for? How the fuck am I supposed to do that when I’m barely responsible for myself? Hell, bringing the Kid in has been a fucking adjustment that isn’t easy and now a…a…fuck. I can’t even say it.

“Kid, where’s Maxx?”

“I promised Mom I wouldn’t say….”

“You keep calling her that. You like it?”

“It still feels weird every now and again, but with the baby coming I think it would be more weird or confusing for me to call her Maxx, ya know? She already promised that nothing would change. That y’all would still want me—”

“Of course we still want you, Kid.”

“I kinda like calling her Mom. It’s nice to have someone who cares about me like that in a way. Still feels weird calling you Dad—”

“No shit.”

“But…with the baby around…it’ll just be another adjustment to make too.”

Why is the teen more mature about this than me?

“Dean—”

“I can’t tell you. She threatened to ground me until I’m 30, and while I don’t think she can actually do that, it’s just not a gamble I’m willing to risk in or outside of Vegas.” The comment gets a soft chuckle from me and he says, “We saw you fight. It was so badass.”

“You did?”

“Yeah! We both did! Man, the way you socked it to Blackout, was like lights out!” Dean pretends to bob and weave.

Is that supposed to be me? Acting is not on this kid’s strong list. And who says lines like that? That’s not clever. Wait. This means…this means Maxx made it to my first fight in the pros. Of course she did. Because she’s always there for me. Fuck. I gotta fix this.

“Man that was amazing! That was the first time I’ve ever seen you fight live! So much more boss than on You Tube!” The excitement in his eyes and voice swells my chest with pride.

What can I say? It means a lot he was that excited to see me do something I’m not even that excited to do anymore.

Dean starts explaining the fight to me through his eyes.

Good thing I wasn’t there or anything.

After not being able to take another sentence with the word boss in it, I interrupt, “You hungry, Kid?”

“Yeah. Barely ate at the thing. Mom said we were all gonna go grab dinner together.”

“You know, we still can if—”

“No.”

I shrug. “How about room service? I’ll order us a couple burgers and you can tell me all about what’s going on with basketball. Did your coach stop being a dick?”

“Barely,” he mumbles. “I just don’t think he likes me.”

“Well that’s not a fucking excuse to not play you. I mean it, Kid. I’ll come down there and whoop his ass if he doesn’t get his shit together.”

What? Don’t look at me like that. The kid’s been through enough shit, without some dickhead coach playing favorites. Basketball is probably the first thing he’s done because
he
wanted to do it and not because he had to.

Dean laughs. “Mouth. Like…three times.”

“Shut up,” I mumble and reach for the phone to order us something to eat.

Fine. I can’t get to Maxx right now, then so be it. But I will make this right. I’ll fix this. And then we’ll talk about…well about the thing growing inside her and how the fuck we’re supposed to deal with it.

Maxx

Stirring the pot of marinara sauce, I smile to myself as Tony continues giving Dean basketball advice.

Stop looking at me like the boys do. I cook! I mean, I can cook. Well, I can cook now. Stop laughing. It’s not that bad. I’m actually getting really good at it! Over the last couple of weeks something weird inside me told me I should start to learn. Being a single parent, I should probably at least know how to do that much. No, you didn’t mishear me. When I walked away from Kellar 35 days ago that was the last time I spoke to him. I meant what I said. We’re done. And we’re not gonna talk about it either.

“I’m telling you, just keep doing the best you can, Kid. Do your best, have some fun, and the rest will work itself out,” Tony advises sitting in the chair across from Dean.

No. It’s not Logan’s chair because he doesn’t fucking live here.

“Thanks, Uncle Tony,” Dean says before looking over his shoulder. “Is it almost ready? I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving,” I grumble as my own stomach gurgles.

Okay, well, so am I. But I don’t get to eat all the time. Thanks to Luke ‘I know everything medically related’ Hart, I can’t even look at a cupcake without 10,000 different scenarios of what could happen to me or the baby. Do you have any idea how traumatized I am?

“You coming to the game tomorrow?” the Kid asks.

I look up just in time to see Tony give me a glance before answering, “Of course, Kid. Haven’t missed one yet.”

“Almost though,” Dean points out.

“Yeah, well you try finding that country farm school off the yellow brick road.”

“Were you watching the Wizard of Oz last night?” I ask pouring the sauce over three bowls of noodles, doing my best not to make a mess.

While the Hart’s are both proud of me for taking the time to learn to cook, neither appreciates the mess I make while doing it.

“Nah. I took this girl to see Wicked.” He answers as I stroll over to the table and place their bowls in front of them.

“You willingly went to see a musical?” Dean’s attitude reminds me of one I wish it didn’t.

Don’t say it. Just stop thinking about him.

“You’ll learn when it comes to dating, Kid, there are many things you do that you didn’t see yourself doing before. I.E. taking a chick to a musical.” Tony explains.

“Seems like a lot of wasted effort if you didn’t get laid.”

“Dean,” I say his name sternly. “There is more to life than getting laid. I know at 15 it’s hard to believe—”

“Almost 16—”

“But someday you’re gonna want more. You’re gonna wanna build a relationship. A fam—family,” I barely finish the sentence as I sit down beside Tony with my own bowl. The words have killed my appetite but I know I’m going to force myself to eat.

Most of the time it’s forcing now. Can’t just think about me anymore.

“She’s right,” Tony agrees giving me a sympathetic look before taking a bite.

And no. Nothing is going on between us. Geez. You’re as bad as
he
was, you know that? Friends. Tony and I are friends. Best friends really. He kinda just came into the fam and fit, ya know?

Clearing his throat, Tony tries to ask, “Have you spoken to—”

“Finish his name and you won’t finish your dinner at my table,” I cut him off.

Dean answers for me, “She hasn’t.”

My eyes cut down to my pasta refusing to be a part of the conversation.

“And you?”

“Every day,” his answer is followed by a slurping sound.

“God, Kid, you’re like a Dyson. Do you even chew?” Tony’s disgust makes me giggle, but doesn’t pull my eyes up.

“What’s a Dyson?” Dean smacks loudly.

“It’s a vacuum. And chew with your mouth closed,” I scold stirring up the pasta, trying to will myself to eat.

Once I get that first bite going, I know my hormones will kick in and make me eat the rest. I just…can’t. You know some moments are harder than others dealing with the fact that I’m in this pregnancy thing alone. I mean, I’m not alone, alone. I’ve got Dean. And Tony. Luke, Erin, hell C.J. and Stuart are both excited too. Just missing one…

“Mom, can I have more, please?” His manners make a small smile come on my face.

He’s getting so much better about saying please and thank you. And trying to be respectful. Then there’s the mom thing…he says he wants to be a great big brother. Do you know how heartwarming that is?

“Help yourself,” I mumble glancing at Tony who looks like he’s enjoying it as well.

When I look back at my own bowl, Tony states, “You’re gonna have to talk to him eventually, Maxxaroo.”

“Not true.”

“You can’t ignore him forever.”

“I can try.”

“Just tell me this,” Tony starts pushing me on this subject once more.

When he does this while working, I immediately find something else to do away from him or plug my headphones in until he gets the point that the conversation is over. Same for the Hart siblings, though they’re a little more persistent about the subject. However, start talking baby names and Luke loses his concentration. Start talking stretch marks and bloating, Erin has an anxiety attack. See. I’m prepared.

“What?”

“If Kellar were standing in your kitchen right now, what would you say?”

“Get the hell out.” My words are followed by me stabbing viciously at my pasta.

“Well that’s not exactly the warm welcome I was expecting,” Logan’s voice pipes in.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment hoping this is all a nightmare before reluctantly opening them. Lifting my head, I see the Kid giving Logan a short hug before plopping back down at the dinner table.

He cannot possibly be standing in my kitchen.

Defensively, Logan folds his arms across his chest and glares at Tony. “What the fuck are you doing in my chair?”

“What’s with you and furniture?” Tony counters clearly unbothered by the hate being spewed in his direction.

“What’s with you and trying to take my place?”

“You have to have a place before it can be taken,” my clarification paints obvious anguish in his eyes.

Tony presses his lips together, fighting whatever urge he has to jump in the middle. Before Logan can say anything, Dean says, “Hungry? Mom made some kick ass pasta.”

“Mouth,” The two of us say in unison, and Dean smiles like he’s victorious.

Sneaky little shit. Well played.

“Since when do you cook?” Logan leans against the counter.

“Since when do you care?”

It looks like my words crushed him, forcing me to look away.

I don’t actually have to look him in the face. It’s probably best if I don’t. Those damn puppy dog eyes tend to do me in every time. And avoiding him for 35 days is easy when he’s not standing directly in puppy dog looking eyesight.

Logan starts again, “Maxx—”

“Don’t even waste your breath.” I push the bowl away from me.

Tony sighs, “You really need to eat something, Maxx.”

“Don’t tell her what to do.” Logan growls.

“Don’t tell him what to do.” I snap.

Before he gets another jab in, Tony says, “Hey, Kid, what’s that actor’s name with the facial hair, he’s bald I think, British, always in action films…”

“Jason Statham!” he exclaims like he’s on Jeopardy.

“Yeah. His movie came out last week. Wanna go see it?”

“Definitely.”

“Go get changed.” Tony tosses his head in the direction of the stairs.

Quickly, Dean hops out of his seat and rushes that direction.

He’s a little too enthusiastic about this movie. I wonder if there are naked girls in it. Oh come on. You’re wondering the same thing.

“Who said you could take my kid to the movies?” Logan’s attitude shows again.

I’m getting real tired of his Tarzan routine, especially since I’m not even Jane.

“He’s not just your kid.” My argument is followed by Tony pressing his lips together to keep something inside.

That’s not healthy. He shouldn’t hold that kinda shit in. He might explode. Huh? We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about Tony…

“He was last time I checked.” His churlish comment irks me so much I stand up and plant my hands on the table.

“Really? Because if he was just your fucking kid, you’d have taken him with you on the road. If he was just your fucking kid, I wouldn’t be the one helping with him homework. If he was just your fucking kid, Tony wouldn’t be the one running drills with him, and Erin wouldn’t be the one taking him to get his goddamn hair cut! He’s
not
just your fucking kid!”

Logan stomps over and drops his hands on the table so he is directly across from me. “And you’re not just my fucking girl anymore are you?”

Without thinking about it, my hand slaps Logan across the face immediately shaking with rage.

I don’t know what shocks me more. The fact that I just slapped him or just how much that shit actually hurts! In the movies no one ever makes it look like it actually hurts!

“Enough,” Tony’s voice booms unexpectedly before dropping down to a lower volume. “This. This bullshit right here is why I’m taking the Kid to the movies. So you can deal with whatever this is. So the Kid doesn’t have to see the two people he’s just learning to call parents split apart in front of his face. So the Kid doesn’t have the only fucking stability he’s ever known in his entire life ripped out from underneath him. You don’t wanna be together? Fine. Whatever. But you do have to figure out a way to co-exist for the Kid and the one growing inside of Maxx.”

I hate when Tony plays the logical card. Oh! And Luke too! He does that shit, too.

“And, Kellar,” he says as Logan stands up straight, the red mark on his face pulsing from the looks of it. “I shouldn’t have to fucking justify myself to you. I meant what I said when I claimed Maxx and I were
just
friends. I’ve been helping
your
kid with shit
you
can’t do. Instead of fucking attacking, try fucking thanking me.”

“Ready, Uncle Tony!” Dean travels down the stairs and hustles back over to us.

Logan does his best to hide the red mark on his face as the kid plants a kiss on my cheek. “Love you, Mom.”

“Love you, too.” I flop back in the chair.

Tony gives my shoulder a squeeze at the same time Dean asks Logan, “You wanna come?”

“I would, Kid, but your mom and I we…well we have some stuff to discuss.” Logan retreats his body so his back is against the edge of the counter. “But maybe we can catch a different one tomorrow.”

“After my game? You’re coming right?”

“Of course, Kid. Why do you think I came home?” Dean’s eyes light up and Logan says, “Now get out of here with your Uncle Tony before you miss the damn thing.”

“Right.” Dean turns his attention to Tony who’s fishing his keys out of his pocket.

I watch Logan give Tony an apologetic nod, and Tony accepts by making the same gesture.

“Hey, Uncle Tony, can we get some popcorn? Oh and a pickle. Can I get a big pickle?”

The last thing I hear Tony say before they’re gone is, “Kid, you just ate enough food to cure hunger in a starving third world nation, and you’re still hungry?”

Once the door shuts, I stand, prepared to make an exit to my room.

Technically, it’s our room, but I’ve already started gathering my stuff to move to the downstairs office, which will be a little tight when I get a bed to put in there, but I’ll live. I’d much rather live cramped than with someone who thinks I trapped him into spending his life with me.

“We’re not gonna talk?” Logan nervously asks.

“About what?” My body freezes itself.

“About us.”

“There is no us, Logan.”

“Don’t say that.” He shakes his head slowly. “
Please
don’t say that…”

The words stop my actions and I stare at him, my eyes stuck on his. “Logan, most of my life has revolved around you. When you hurt, I hurt. When you have nightmares, I’m right there to make them go away. When your old man put his hands on you, it was
my
window you climbed through, it was
me
who nursed those bruises, and it is
me
who still nurses those mental scars. All that, Logan, all that for you and you had the nerve to look me in the face and accuse me of
trapping
you into being with me.” Emotions get caught in my throat. “How the hell do you think that makes me feel?”

“Maxx, I didn’t mean it—”

“You never mean it! You never mean anything! You get pissed off like some sort of toddler without his juice box and I have to be the one to let it go! To tell you it’s okay! Tell you I forgive you with little to no consequence! Well, I’m done, Logan! I’m fucking done!”

“You can’t be done…”

“And why not?”

Cautiously Logan moves his body towards mine. “Because I need you.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“I’m not kidding, Maxx.”

“No. You’re just saying what needs to be said so you can be forgiven! This is what you do, Logan! This! And it’s always me who gets run over by your runaway train of anger! Me. The one person who has always been there for you!”

Logan carefully approaches me, his body much closer than I want it. “Maxx, look at me.” My eyes fall deep into his. “I mean…really look at me.” I let my eyes absorb him, his tense shoulders, and stiff his neck, the circles under his eyes and his exhausted face. Saddened I feel my hand twitch to want to reach out for him, but I choose not to. My eyes close in an attempt to not have to deal with this. With him. His voice cracks. “Maxx…” When I open my eyes, I see he’s on the verge of tears. I suck in a short breath. “Maxx, please don’t give up on me. Please…please…” And with the last word his arms pull me into him, and he does something I’ve never seen him do. He begins to cry.