21. Max
CHAPTER 21
MAX
M ax’s apartment felt quiet. Very quiet. And empty.
It had always been that way, of course. Ever since Max had moved in several years ago, he’d lived alone, and he’d preferred that things were both neat and quiet. Today, though, on December twenty-third, he found that he didn’t appreciate the quiet as much as usual. Instead, the lack of distraction left him thinking about Billie far too much, which wasn’t good for him.
Max had spent the better part of the morning catching up on emails, but he was now in the rare position of having no work left to do. He couldn’t do anything else until he returned to the office with the rest of his employees on December twenty-eighth. The prospect of four empty days, one of them Christmas, with no work to do stretched dauntingly in front of him.
Max prepared a snack in the kitchen and went to the living room, where he flipped on the TV. Canned laughter and Christmas music rang out on seemingly every channel. It seemed that no one was playing anything other than Christmas rom-coms, Christmas-themed TV episodes, and Christmas-based comedy specials. Of course, every mention of Christmas reminded Max of Billie. What was she doing today? She’d mentioned something about going to her parents’ home on the twenty-third. Hopefully, she was surrounded by loving family. Hopefully, she didn’t feel an ounce of the loneliness and regret that Max did.
With a sigh, he flipped off the TV. The dancing animated reindeer and their cheerful Christmas song disappeared, leaving his apartment even quieter and emptier than it had been before.
Max got to his feet. He did have one Christmas obligation that he could do today, one he usually dreaded: visiting his parents. Visits to his parents almost never went the way Max wanted. No matter how nicely everything started out, he and his father always ended up discussing business, and the conversation often turned ugly. Jim Grayson could never stop himself from commenting on all the things Max could have done better, which always left Max feeling like a failure.
Maybe, instead of trying to follow in your father’s footsteps and always feeling like you’re falling short, it’s time to pave your own path. Billie’s words from the night of the Christmas party echoed in Max’s head. For a moment, he wished that she were by his side to visit his parents with him. Then the moment passed, and Max realized that even if he could be with Billie, it wouldn’t be fair to force her into his family drama. It was better that he handled this himself.
Max picked out a bottle of wine from the kitchen and headed down to the garage. It seemed like no one was on the road today. Perhaps it was the chill weather, or perhaps everyone simply had better things to do than driving around today.
Max’s parents had moved into a sprawling house at the edge of the city when they’d retired. It always took a while to drive there, so Max often found his thoughts wandering to work while he drove. Today, of course, it was Billie who filled his mind. Billie and the baby.
She was around seven weeks pregnant now, if Max had gotten the calculations right. Some self-destructive instinct had pushed him to look up information on the internet, so he knew that Billie might be feeling nausea and tenderness, and that she might be more tired than usual. He also knew that the baby, their baby, was currently the size of a grape.
Max hoped that Billie wouldn’t be too tired and sick to enjoy Christmas. He hoped she’d take it easy with deliveries this year, letting her volunteers and employees take over the majority of the work — although he doubted she would. He hoped that the little grape-sized baby was doing well.
He hoped he would be strong enough to keep his distance, despite the pull he felt to call Billie and tell her he’d made a terrible mistake.
Finally, Max arrived outside his parents’ home. After waiting for them to buzz the gate open, he pulled into the parking area and got out, the bottle of wine in his hand. His mother came outside to meet him and enveloped him in a quick hug.
“How are you, Max?” she asked.
“Not too bad,” he replied.
“Great. I was just making dinner, so go sit with your father in the living room until it’s ready.”
“All right. Thanks for cooking. You really didn’t have to.”
“Nonsense. I like to cook, just like you do, and I want to spoil my only son a little.” She led him inside, where Max shed his coat and took off his shoes before letting her propel him into the living room. His father was sitting on the couch reading a newspaper. A cup of coffee steamed on the table beside him.
The first thing that struck Max was the lack of Christmassy cheer in the room. As a child, he’d been used to it, but he’d just spent the better part of a month surrounded by wrapped gifts and fragrant pine trees and glittering Christmas lights. It was strange to see a room that looked so dark and so ordinary.
“Max.” Jim looked up from his newspaper and gave his son a nod of acknowledgement. “Nice to see you.”
“Nice to see you too, Dad.” Max took a seat on the chair across from his father. Jim gave another nod, then lifted the newspaper again and returned to his reading. Max held back a sigh. His father didn’t even seem willing to make an effort to talk to him. Max considered just getting out his phone but decided against it. Whether or not Jim was feeling chatty, they needed to talk.
“How are you?” Max asked.
“Fine.” Jim creased the newspaper to look at another section.
“Great.” There was a long pause. “Aren’t you going to ask how I’m doing?”
Jim slowly lowered the newspaper and met his son’s eyes. “I saw you four days ago at the Christmas party. I know you’re doing fine, so I don’t really see the need for small talk.”
“We can talk about something else, then.”
“All right. Do you have your year-end reporting yet from the branches? Anything I should know about?”
“I don’t want to talk about business, either,” Max snapped. “Come on, Dad. We’re family and it’s the holidays. Don’t you think we should make an effort?”
Jim sighed. “I see you’ve caught a little of the Christmas craze this year. Next, you’ll be expecting presents, I imagine. Is this about that woman I met at the party? The charity woman?”
Max deeply didn’t want to talk about Billie right now, so he focused on another part of the sentence that was equally frustrating.
“Maybe I would like a present.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Not now, necessarily, but when I was a kid. Would it have killed you to give me a gift or two?”
“You wouldn’t have enjoyed them properly without earning them yourself.” Jim shook his head. “I thought we’d talked about all this.”
“We never talk!” The frustration, the feelings of inadequacy, and the sadness Max felt all skyrocketed. “You only care about the Bluebell Diner. You don’t care about me. When I was a kid, you were never around, and you were never there for me.”
“I wasn’t around because I was building a future for you, for our family. Because of the diners, we went from a family who relied on food stamps to one that can afford more than one home. How can you say I don’t care about you?”
“Well, you never showed it.” Max shook his head. “I always felt like I wasn’t good enough for you. I still do. And worse, I think I’m becoming you!”
The words slipped out before Max could think twice. He regretted them instantly, especially when his father leaned forward, his brows furrowed.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m going to be a father.” Max shook his head. “The woman I love is having a baby. But I was so scared that I was going to mess things up, that I was becoming you, that I might have ruined everything already.”
“You have a baby on the way?” Jim’s face was unreadable.
“Yes, I do. You remember Billie Stone, the ‘charity woman’ from the party? Well, I love her.” The words felt so natural to say, as though they had always been true. “And she told me she was pregnant a few days ago. Instead of being there for her, instead of supporting her, I said I’d contribute financially and that was it. I never wanted my baby to feel inadequate or unloved because I made a mistake — and by stepping away I've just become even more of an absentee father than you were.”
There was a long pause. Jim’s face was still unreadable, but Max was certain that his father was going to kick him out of the house. There was no way Max would be allowed to talk like this.
Then Jim sighed. “You love this woman?” The question was unexpected, but the answer was easy.
“I do.” If only Max had recognized that sooner. If only it was enough.
“Then you should be with her. You should be a father to your child. Maybe I didn’t do everything right with you, but I must have done something well, because you’ve turned into a man I admire. One who’s braver than me.” Jim ran a hand through his hair. “I was never able to balance work with family life. Because of that, I hurt my relationship with you, and with your mother. But we aren’t the same, and I believe that you can do better.”
Max was blown away by his father’s admissions. Jim admired him. He thought he was brave. These were the things Max had wanted to hear all his life — but they didn’t change anything.
“It’s too late,” Max said. He shook his head. “I’ve already messed everything up. Billie doesn’t want to be with me anymore.”
“I don’t know this Billie.” Jim shrugged. “But I do know that if you love her, you should go after her. Maybe she still won’t want to be with you, but at least you will have tried. You need to go after what your heart wants — nothing else is more important. Take it from me, Max. I chased all the wrong things for too long, which made me miss out on a lot of important moments with the people I love. Don’t make the same mistake.”
“Okay.” Max took a deep breath. “I will. I’ll tell her how I feel.”
“Don’t just tell her.” Max and Jim both looked up to see Max’s mother leaning against the doorway. “ Show her. If you think you’ve messed things up, you need to prove that you won’t do the same thing again.”
“I will.” Max stood. He was filled with a new energy — he did love Billie, and even his own father thought that Max could do better than he himself had. Maybe there was still a chance to make things right.
“But first, let’s eat.” His mother nodded to the dining room. “There’s no point running off into the cold to make a grand gesture on an empty stomach.”
Max laughed despite himself and followed his parents into the dining room. His mother had prepared his childhood favorite: macaroni and cheese with a side of carrot sticks. Max smiled. Even if his father had been distant, his mother had always tried her best. He gave her a quick hug.
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Anytime. Now, sit down, get something to eat, and tell us everything about this girl you love.”
“All right.” Max sat and took a scoop of macaroni and cheese. “Well, her name is Billie Stone. She runs a charity called Sweetest Surprise that helps local children.” He glanced at his father, but Jim looked interested and far less judgmental than Max had anticipated. Encouraged, he continued. “She’s smart, playful, creative, and generous. And she’s beautiful. She has curly brown hair and big brown eyes…”
For the rest of the afternoon, Max told his parents about Billie. His mother was supportive, and, to his surprise, his father was, too. When Max left a few hours later, he hugged his mother, shook his father’s hand, then got into his car feeling more optimistic than he had in a long time.
There was, of course, one big problem. Max had experienced a change of heart and knew that he wanted to be a part of Billie and the baby’s lives. He still had to win Billie over, though, and it wasn’t going to be easy. He’d really messed up with her. He needed to make things right, which meant that he had a few errands to run.
First, Max had to buy something. Luckily, a few stores were still open on the twenty-third, though he made it just before closing time. Next, he put in a call to one of Billie’s employees at Sweetest Surprise, then a few more calls to some people he hoped would help. Finally, he went home. If everything went well, by this time tomorrow, he and Billie would be together. And if not, at least Billie would know that he loved her — and at least he would have tried.