The Better Man (Chicago Sisters) (9 page)

“He can have this one.”

“Thanks,” Max choked out, taking the car and slipping it in his pants pocket.

Simon beamed at him. This kid lit up whenever they were together. He had to believe he could do the same for Aidan someday. Simon gave him a boost of confidence that maybe he’d be good at this dad thing after all.

* * *

I
F
EVER
THERE
was a time when Max desperately wanted but didn’t want to want a cigarette, it was before a visit with Aidan. A few years ago, he never would have believed he’d be antsy about hanging out with a three-year-old. Fear was a common friend nowadays. Max was afraid he might never connect with his son. He was scared all the conflict between him and Katie would negatively impact his relationship with Aidan in the long run. He had already underestimated the importance of his presence when Aidan was a baby. What else could he do wrong?

He rubbed his sweaty palms on his thighs as he sat in the office that doubled as a playroom for his visits. Laura Bishop was one of five counselors who worked as supervised visitation providers at this particular center. Redheaded and in her forties, she was nice enough but almost impossible to read. Max had no idea where he stood with her. For all he knew, she could have thought he was the world’s worst father.

“I heard it’s not usually this warm in October. Maybe I brought the California sunshine with me,” he said in an attempt at making conversation while they waited for Katie to arrive with Aidan.

Laura glanced up from the paperwork that occupied her and gave him a smile that somewhat eased his nerves. “Next week, temperatures are sure to drop a good twenty degrees and it’ll probably rain. Trust me, you’ll get to miss that sunshine.”

Max missed California, period. He certainly couldn’t say that to the woman reporting back to the judge about his time with Aidan. Life was a lot less complicated out there, though. Max worked, he played, he was responsible for no one but himself. Here, he only saw his son twice a week during supervised visits, but he felt responsible to Aidan every day, all day.

The responsibility weighed heavy on him because he hadn’t taken it seriously until now. He also had yet to experience any of the joys of parenthood. He hadn’t heard “I love you” or been the reason his son smiled. Aidan hadn’t hugged or kissed his dad or shown him any affection at all. Max hadn’t earned any of that yet, but he wasn’t giving up. California sometimes called his name, but the possibility of gaining Aidan’s trust and love was worth staying put for. So every decision was made with Aidan in mind, from the neighborhood Max chose to live in to how hard he worked at Sato’s. Aidan deserved a father who followed through on his responsibilities and was successful in his career. His father should be someone he could be proud of and look up to.

Max slipped his hand into his coat pocket and touched the toy car Simon had given him. He had avoided bringing Aidan gifts during their visits because he hadn’t wanted Laura to think he was trying to buy his son’s love. He figured this one was okay since it was small, and it was really from someone else.

There was a quiet knock on the door and the receptionist pushed it open. “Mrs. Michaels is here.”

Max straightened up and ran a hand through his hair. These visits were worse than all the first dates he’d ever been on. Katie trudged in first, looking slightly harried. Her hair did not want to cooperate, falling from her ponytail as she wrestled with her bags and held tight to Aidan’s hand.

As soon as they made it inside the room, Aidan latched on to his mother’s leg. He was tall for his age, but skinny. The dark jeans he wore hung low on his hips. Paired with a blue-and-white-striped polo shirt, he looked like a kid straight out of a Gap ad. His light brown hair had a curl to it just like Max’s did when he was that age.

“Momma, stay,” he said with his hazel eyes locked on Max like he was some sort of villain.

With a bit of effort, Max was able to fake a smile. “Hey, buddy. I’m glad we get to hang out today.”

Aidan ducked his head behind Katie’s leg. “Momma, stay.”

Katie dropped her bags on one of the chairs. “I wasn’t able to get him down for a nap today, so he’s a little cranky. He refused to eat anything at snack time. I packed a couple of things if he gets hungry. Can he have a juice box in here?” she asked Laura.

While the two women discussed what Aidan could and could not eat and drink in the office, Max tried to engage with the little boy. He crouched down so they would be eye to eye—that had seemed to help Simon earlier today. “No nap today, huh? I didn’t like taking naps when I was little, either. Who wants to nap when there’s so much fun stuff to do, right?”

Katie scooped their son up and frowned down on Max. “Aidan loves his naps. He
needs
a nap because he’s three. We didn’t get one today because we met Daddy for lunch and we had to run some errands.” She gave Aidan a kiss on the cheek.

Max’s blood began to boil. She probably had lunch with her husband so she could mention it at this visit. As much as he appreciated that this guy had stepped up and been willing to care for Aidan in his absence, Katie was fooling herself if she thought Max was going to roll over and continue to let someone else be the only father figure in Aidan’s life. It had been a mistake to let them leave and not follow. He had no plans to be separated from his son again.

“Wow, lunch with your stepdad and playtime with your dad. What a day. Sounds like Mommy needs a nap.” Max held out his arms so she could hand Aidan over.

Katie could dish it out, but obviously wasn’t in the mood to take any of his gibes. “Jason is the only
dad
he knows, and that’s no one’s fault but yours.”

“Well, I’m trying to change that if you’d let me.”

“And when you lose interest? When being a dad gets too hard? Then what, Max?”

Her questions were like a slap across the face. He felt their burn on his cheek. Before he could respond, Laura jumped in. “Let’s remember how many ears can hear you. This is not the time or the place for this conversation.”

Max dropped his arms and Katie pressed her lips together in a thin line. The center had strict rules about behavior during drop-off and pickup for a reason. Max silently scolded himself for the display of poor self-control in front of his son.

As soon as Katie set Aidan down, he immediately began to whine and begged her to pick him back up. It was painful to listen to him protest as she told him he had to stay and visit. How long would it take him to realize Max wasn’t such a bad guy? What would happen when the visits stretched longer than a couple of hours?

When Aidan finally gave in, Katie’s eyes were wet with her own tears. She left the room, and the little boy wandered over to the play area. Laura’s office had a wide array of toys—trains, dolls, even a little stage for puppet shows. She had a lot of puzzles and board games for older kids, as well. Aidan pulled out some building blocks and began putting them together.

Max joined him on the floor and attempted to summon the child within himself. That was what his own mother would have done. If Aidan was more interested in the toys than his father, his father would be interested in them, too. Aidan built towers while Max made something resembling a house with an attached garage. He took the Corvette out of his pocket and rolled it into the garage.

Little fingers crossed the invisible line that had separated them and pulled the car out and pushed it back in. Hope bloomed.

“Do you like cars?” Max asked.

Aidan nodded and pulled the car out again. This time, he rolled it around the towers he built.

“You can have that one if you want. Someone gave it to me to give to you.”

He didn’t acknowledge the offer, but it made Max smile when he saw Aidan slide it into his pocket when they took a snack break. After the snack, they found more cars and trucks to play with and used the blocks to make roads. Max built a tall tower and let Aidan knock it over with the bulldozer, much to the boy’s delight. His giggles filled the room, and Max realized it was the first time he’d ever heard his son’s laughter.

Overcome, Max had to press his fingers against the corners of his eyes to keep from crying like a baby. It may not have been much, but to this father, it was everything.

CHAPTER NINE

T
HIS
WAS
A
bad idea.

Max was a nice guy. He’d smiled a lot more this week and his smile was really nice. He smelled nice, better than nice. He was nice to Simon. But no matter how
nice
Max was, the thought of spending time with him outside of work had not been good for Kendall’s heart.

The last few nights had been filled with dreams about Trevor. Nightmares that forced her to relive the last time they’d been together—the fight, the words she wished he would have taken back. Nightmares that ended with her in a cemetery, holding Simon’s hand and a folded-up American flag.

Max’s presence brought it all back no matter how nice he was or how positively Simon was responding to him. He was making it impossible to ignore the hurt she’d worked so hard to hide.

Emma thought it was a fabulous idea to spend more time with Max. She had talked to one of the child psychologists at the hospital, who said anything they could do to help “generalize Simon’s communication behaviors into other speaking situations” was highly desirable. She thought Kendall and Simon should start spending as much time with Max as possible.

Lucy, on the other hand, was beginning to wonder what Kendall wasn’t telling her, and it wouldn’t be long before her older sister figured out there were secrets yet to be told. People believed Trevor was a good man who did no wrong, that he was a dedicated marine, an attentive father and a loving husband. There was no way Kendall wanted anyone to think any different. He had been a good father and an excellent marine. She was not about to speak ill of the dead.

“This is so close to your place,” Emma said as they climbed the steps outside Max’s three-flat. It was the only building on the street with a bright red door, making it easy to find.

“Too close,” Lucy said, reading Kendall’s mind.

Kendall had brought her sisters with her because she thought it was the best way to prevent them all from staying too long. The psychologist had also said the more people Simon spoke in front of, the better. Since meeting Max, Simon had taken to speaking in front of Lucy and Emma quite regularly. Kendall wanted that to continue.

“You want to press the button?” Emma asked Simon, who nodded gleefully. She helped him find the name Max Jordan and he rang the bell.

The yucks were having a field day in Kendall’s stomach. They needed to get in and get out. Pick out a box that would work for a costume and go back home.

The door buzzed and Emma held it open for an eager Simon. There was no turning back. Kendall followed everyone up the stairs, her feet heavier with every step.

Max’s neighbor stumbled out of his condo just as they hit the second floor. He was dressed in navy, and the Chicago Fire Department emblem on his jacket had a paramedic patch underneath it.

He said hello to Simon, who didn’t reply. “You guys headed up to see Floor Three?” he asked.

Emma stepped up behind her nephew, placing her hands on his little shoulders. “The
guy
who lives on floor three.”

Max’s neighbor squinted and pointed at Emma. “You look familiar. Do you work—”

“At St. Joseph’s? Yeah, I’m an ER nurse over there. What station are you from?”

“Twenty-two.”

“Paramedic, I see,” she said nodding at the patch on his jacket.

“Yep.” His smile somehow widened. “I drive 43.”

Emma bit her lip and tucked some hair behind her ear. “The triage nurses talk about you.”

Tall, Dark and Enamored’s eyes widened. “Good things, I hope.”

“They like you a lot.”

“Cool.”

The two smiling fools stood on the landing with a restless Simon waiting in between. Lucy, rolling her eyes, huffed and gave her youngest sister a push. “We need to get up there.”

“Oh yeah, of course. Sorry.” The neighbor stepped back into his condo and made room for them to pass. “Maybe I’ll see you around, Nightingale,” he said, keeping his eyes on Emma as they all headed up. “Tell Floor Three I said hi.”

Max was waiting in his doorway. A faint shadow of stubble darkened his jaw. His sights, unlike his neighbor’s, were firmly set on Kendall.

“You guys met Charlie, I hear.”

“He says hi, Floor Three,” Kendall said, pushing her nerves aside.

Max had a dimple on his right cheek when he smiled big. “His nicknames for people need some work.”

Kendall slipped into the apartment, holding her breath so she didn’t smell him. He was bound to smell good, since his hair was slightly wet like he’d just showered. She was sticking to her plan of getting in and out fast. She couldn’t give in to any pull he had over her.

“You ready to test-drive some vehicles, little man?” he asked, waving his hand toward a stack of boxes. Lucy and Emma helped Simon choose the perfect one for his costume.

“It’s really nice of you to do this,” Kendall said.

“No problem. I had a bunch of these lying around. Might as well put one of them to good use. I’m just going to toss the rest.” He folded his arms across his chest, making the muscles in his forearms more defined.

Great.
Now she could add nice arms to the list. Certainly there had to be some very not-nice things about him. Everyone had not-nice parts. Didn’t they? A little voice in her head reminded her that people didn’t always show their true selves until you were in too deep. She didn’t want to get too deep only to be disappointed. She certainly couldn’t let that happen to Simon.

She turned her head away from Max and toward a console bookcase filled with record albums. He had quite a collection. A record player sat on top in between two enormous speakers that could probably cause some serious hearing damage.

Her grandmother used to play music on a turntable when the girls were little. The three of them would dance around her living room to “Dancing Queen” by ABBA and Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline.”

“Does it work?” she asked.

“Like it’s new. My music is the one thing I’m really good at taking care of.”

Trevor didn’t have much interest in music. When Kendall was in high school and throughout college, she went to dozens of concerts with her friends and sisters. When she met Trevor, that all stopped. He had a passion for fast cars and NASCAR races. Kendall had watched more cars drive around a track than she cared to admit.

She hadn’t realized how much of herself she’d given up for Trevor until she moved back to Chicago. At the time, she had thought she’d been compromising. Marriage was about give and take. Somewhere along the line, though, Kendall had become the only one giving.

“What about this one?” Lucy said holding a large rectangular box around Simon’s middle. “Not too big, not too small.”

“Just right,” Emma added.

“Let’s paint it now!” Simon shouted. “Please, Mom.”

This was better than she expected. In and out in under five minutes. She had needlessly worried about how difficult it would be to get him to leave.

“Okay, let’s go. Tell Mr. Jordan thank you.” Calling him Max was too comfortable. Simon shouldn’t get too attached.

“Thank you, Mr. Jordan,” he repeated, stepping out of the bottomless box. “Can you come paint the car with us?”

Max’s face registered surprise. Feeling panicked, Kendall jumped in. “Let’s not bother Mr. Jordan any more than we have.”

“Please, Mom.” He stood before them and tugged on his mother’s arm.

“We were going to get some lunch with your aunts,” she tried.

“Can you come get lunch with us?” Simon asked Max, his blue eyes full of hope.

Max looked unsure but unwilling to hurt a little boy’s feelings. “I don’t want to intrude.”

Kendall felt the rug pulled out from under her. How could she not invite him without seeming like a jerk? Why couldn’t he have said he’d already eaten or had other plans?

“You’re more than welcome to join us, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to come. Simon will get over it.”

“No, I won’t,” Simon said.

She tipped her chin down and gave him a look. “Yes, you will.”

“I won’t, Mom. Please come, Max.” Simon jumped up and down in front of them and grabbed both of their hands. “Please, please, please, please.”

Max looked over at Kendall, who was sure she was bright red due to the extreme embarrassment mixed with her growing anger. “Only if you’re sure,” he said.

She was sure about a few things. She was sure this was a mistake, that she was going to regret this, and that Simon would now think jumping up and down, begging and whining was the best way to get what he wanted.

“I’m sure.”

* * *

A
N
AWKWARD
LUNCH
ENSUED
. Simon would only talk when the waitress wasn’t in the general vicinity of their table and stopped altogether when another group of people were seated next to them. Max was great with him, though. When he picked up on Simon’s silence, he switched to drawing pictures back and forth on his place mat with him.

Things got even more uncomfortable when they headed back to Kendall’s house. She realized on the walk over that there were pictures of Trevor all over the place inside. Even though she had mentioned the resemblance, she hadn’t been specific about the fact that he looked
exactly
like him.

It also didn’t help that Emma had other plans and Lucy got a call from someone in her animal-rights group to go protest outside a pet store that bought puppies from a puppy mill. Kendall secretly wished Max would try to get out of painting the box.

When they got home, she had the boys wait outside. Box painting was an outdoor activity. Maybe she wouldn’t have to invite Max in at all. While she gathered up all the necessary materials for costume construction, she spent a minute hiding the more obvious pictures of Trevor, just in case.

She was snagging the photo of him in his dress blues when Simon came bursting through the front door. “Mom! Don’t forget the tinfoil for the bumper!”

Hiding the frame behind her back, she tried to act casual. “Got it. I’ll be out in a minute. Stay out there with Mr. Jordan, okay?”

“He says I can call him Max. Can I call him Max?”

Of course he said that.
Kendall was failing miserably at keeping this relationship from getting too personal. “You can call him Max if he’s really all right with it. Now, get outside.”

He smiled like she’d bought one of those puppies Lucy was worried about and shouted, “He’s all right with it. Hurry, Mom!”

Simon closed the door behind him. It was a glimpse of the little boy she’d been missing since his father died, and it made her happy and terrified at the same time.

How long would Max want to hang out with some woman and her kid? There was no way there could be anything more than friendship between him and her. It seemed unlikely he’d stick around unless things went to another level, and that wasn’t going to happen. Kendall had too much emotional baggage for any man, let alone one who looked like Trevor. Kendall’s feelings for her husband were complicated at best. There was little hope of her ever resolving them now that he was gone. That left someone who looked like him up a creek without a paddle when it came to winning her affections.

Satisfied that Max would not see a picture of Trevor if he came in to use the bathroom, she grabbed the painting supplies and headed outside. Max and Simon were trying to decide where to attach the straps Simon would have to wear over his shoulders.

“What are you going to name your car?” Max asked.

Simon’s face scrunched up. “I have to name it?”

“All the cool guys name their cars. It’s a thing. I don’t have a car anymore, but my last car was named Candy because she was red and so sweet.”

“You had a girl car?” Simon’s eyes were the size of quarters.

“All cars are girls.”

“No way.”

“Way.”

Simon couldn’t believe his ears. He needed his mother to verify this insanity. “Mom, did you know cars are girls?”

Kendall covered her mouth with her hand to stifle her laugh and nodded.

“I’m naming mine Lulu.”

Kendall chuckled a little louder. Her sister would
love
having a car named after her, especially that name. “You might not want to tell Aunt Lucy that.”

The three of them got busy painting and embellishing the costume. Their collective laughter created a lightness Kendall hadn’t felt in a long time. Seeing Simon act like a normal six-year-old freed her from the year’s worth of guilt and worry she’d been carrying around. This wasn’t like having Trevor around. It was better.

Max came up with the idea of using a Frisbee as the steering wheel. He cut a hole in it and attached it to a paper towel tube that Simon had way too much fun unrolling. Max painted Simon’s nose red and Max returned the favor by painting a white smiley face on Max’s knee.

With the help of a lot of duct tape and some imagination, they created the coolest red sports car, complete with white flames on the sides. Kendall took pictures with her phone until Simon couldn’t stand still another minute.

“We rocked that thing. My mother would be proud,” Max said, grinning from ear to ear.

“It’s pretty awesome,” Kendall agreed as they watched Simon run up and down the sidewalk, pretending he was in the Daytona 500.

Max looked at his paint-covered hands. “Can I use your bathroom to wash up?”

Although she’d been prepared for him to ask, the request still racked her nerves. Her shoulders stiffened. “Sure, we can all go in for a minute.” She called Simon over and they left the car on the porch to finish drying.

Kendall let Simon show Max where he could clean up so she could scan the main floor for any other pictures of Trevor. Her heart raced. This was more stressful than presenting a design to a room full of her toughest clients. She climbed up on the couch and took down the photo collage that hung above it, hiding it behind the cushions. She sat down and held her head in her hands. Hiding all evidence of Trevor’s existence was ridiculous and she knew it.

“Mom, can Max stay for dinner?” Simon skipped around the room, too excited for his own good.