Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Bobby and Annette’s house was always both perfectly arranged and totally chaotic.
Anyone who had four kids had a house full of craziness, but at the same time Annette was like a drill sergeant when it came to cleaning, organizing, and arranging things.
The drive out had not been too bad, considering it was Thanksgiving Day.
It had only taken about an extra fifteen minutes to get there, the weather holding and making it a decent trip.
When they walked into the house, Bobby was there to greet them, giving him a man hug, Sam a handshake, and Hillary a big squeeze.
He showed them where they could leave their shoes, because Annette didn’t like to have people tracking mud and salt all through the house.
The place smelled amazing, like turkey and rolls and pie.
Evan had made up a dressing last night that was a cornbread stuffing mix with celery, onions, and chicken broth.
He didn’t want Sam and Hillary to freak out over Annette’s sausage and oyster stuffing, so he’d used Sam’s mom’s recipe and Sam had insisted on bringing tamales.
He’d sent them overnight FedEx with a cold pack before they’d flown in. Evan honestly thought that was the most hilarious thing he had ever seen and he loved the man even more for it. The chile in those tamales were going to take the very tops of Bobby and Annette’s heads off.
Sam swore, of course, that they were mild, but he’d seen what mild meant to his folks.
Mild just meant that it melted your teeth, not that your head actually came off your body.
Sam was in the kitchen helping Annette, an apron protecting his button-down. Hillary sat with Bobby on the couch, relaying football information to her dad and impressing Bobby with her sports IQ.
Evan wandered around, playing with the kids, loving on the dog, but the simple fact was he had to wonder where Max was.
It was Thanksgiving.
School was out.
Max should be here. He should have slept here last night, but nobody’d mentioned him, and it felt weird to just ask, “Could you please tell me where Max is?”
He hadn’t seen the kid since… He thought about it, well, probably since Santa Fe. Evan had been running his ass off.
He didn’t want to stir the shit pot, but it felt really weird, tickled the back of his brain like a feather shoved up his nose.
Finally, he managed to corner Annette in the kitchen when Sam left to use the restroom.
“Annette, honey, where’s Max?”
She chuckled, and her easy smile went a long way to relaxing him.
“He went and spent yesterday with his friend Brett, and he stayed the night at his apartment, I guess. He’s a little older and not living in the dorms anymore.
They’re going to come here this afternoon for Thanksgiving, and to say hi to Hillary and everything, and then they’re going to head to his family’s house.
They do their Thanksgiving on Friday, I think. Something about Brett’s dad’s work.”
“Cool.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s odd knowing his baby is here, and he’s not here. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad Hillary said no when he asked her to marry him. He’s not ready to get married. I’m not one hundred percent sure he’s ready to be a father.”
Evan didn’t mention that, really, for a long time Max was going to be more like a guy who sent presents and saw the kid when she came to Boston to visit her grandparents.
Max wasn’t mature enough to do dad-like things, but he still needed to be responsible and show up when Sam and Hillary had made such an effort to come all this way while she was still able to travel and be here for him and his family.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure he’s not ready, honey.” He grinned at Annette, shaking his head. “I’m going to text him and just see where he is.”
“That’s probably a good idea. Remind him you’re here, and he needs to get his ass to the house.” She chuckled, stirring something on the stove top. “I’ve been a little busy. I adore Hillary though, and I like your Sam.”
Evan grinned back, the words “your Sam” making his heart beat faster. “I’m pretty damn fond of him myself.”
“Fond of who?” Sam came wandering back into the kitchen, grabbing an olive off one of the relish trays and popping it into his mouth.
“You, baby.” He reeled Sam in for a kiss. “I’m gonna leave you guys to it. I take up too much space in here. I’ll be out there.” He waved vaguely toward the front room.
He left Sam and Annette discussing whether or not the gravy needed the giblets or if they could leave them out.
Personally, he gave no shits so he walked out of the room, grabbed his phone, and texted Max.
Where the hell are you?
Three dots appeared and ran for quite a while, which meant Max was typing and deleting things. Finally, what came back was
Brett and I are running late but we’ll be there soon
God, how was he ever supposed to represent Max as a hockey player if the kid couldn’t be someplace on time? He’d always had trouble getting to practice, he’d always had trouble getting to games with every bit of his gear, and Evan would be shocked if he showed up with all his clothes on today.
He’d learn. His teammates would teach him. There was no question about that. He’d probably have a number of bruises, but honestly, maybe this was what it would take, because really, Max needed to get his shit together.
Eighteen sucked.
come on, your mom is cooking.
Hillary was sitting there talking to Bobby, about football—not just casually, either. This girl was a football fan. It was a little weird and a lot wonderful, and Bobby seemed gobsmacked as fuck.
Evan went to sit, and Hillary levered herself up to go to the bathroom with a wink. “She’s sitting on my bladder like a big lizard.”
“Gross visual, Hil. Thanks.”
As she walked away. Bobby glanced over at him. “She’s a smart little shit. She wants to be a vet, does she?”
“Right now she’s going to school to be a vet tech. She’s got a plan. It’s just going to take her a while.”
“Good for her. Seriously.” Bobby looked at him. “She was telling me that the baby’s going to call you Vovo, which is Portuguese. They have a lot of Portuguese in New Mexico? I mean, I know there are quite a few here, but—”
He chuckled and shook his head. “There are a ton of Brazilians in rodeo.”
Bobbly blinked, head tilting. “Oh, so not Portugal?”
“Nope. It’s Brazilian Portuguese. It was Sam who suggested it, believe it or not.”
“Well, that’s kind of adorable.” Bobby’s lips twisted. “Weird, but adorable.”
“Yeah, yeah, your Boston is a-showing, man.” He shook his head. “Everything about Sam is Spanish, right? Like so why not Brazilian for me? I mean you’re going to end up being Pop-Pop or something like that so I couldn’t take that, could I?”
Bobby snorted. “True. I mean I’ll be whatever the baby calls me, right? It’s going to be up to her and Hillary.”
That was the perfect attitude. Evan was proud of his friend, because Bobby could be stubborn as fuck and get his own way ninety percent of the time, but he wasn’t saying it was going to be whatever Max decided and that was important.
“You get a hold of Max?” Bobby asked. “He’s been avoiding me.”
“Yeah, he says he’s on his way. This is all on the Brett guy.”
Bobby rolled his eyes. “Oh God, somebody not in class. I’m starting to wonder if he’s not like you. He’s been all over this guy.”
“Well, if he is, then he’s bi, not gay, because he sure was into Hillary for a little while.”
“You know I don’t give a shit.” Bobby shook his head. “I just hope they’re not all weird around Hillary, you get me?”
“No matter what happens, it’s going to be weird with Hillary.” Evan shrugged and kind of grinned at Bobby. “Do you think it’s strange that they’re not talking to each other?”
Bobby lifted one shoulder. “Dude, what does your guy think?”
“That it’s weird.”
The look of relief on Bobby’s face was comical. “Yeah, yeah. I think it’s fucking odd, too. I mean, I know he asked her to marry him, but—”
“Which was a stupid idea,” Evan pointed out.
“Yeah, this whole thing is stupid, but at some point, Max’s going to get married and is going to want to have custody or share custody.”
“Well, hopefully by the time that that’s happening, he’s settled down, and that’s the situation, everybody will be a little bit older and able to think about this clearly.” Because there was no way Sam was letting this little one away from him for six months out of the year.
No way.
But if the little one was in school, it would be easier.
And Max could take her for the summer maybe and stay with Bobby and Annette during the off-season while Sam was really, really busy during what they called Cowboy Christmas.
He thought that was a fine idea. Hell, at that point Evan could come and stay in Boston too and keep an eye on that little bit.
Hillary came back and gave them a warm smile as she headed right past them into the kitchen.
She was probably starving because all the smells were so good, and she was so pregnant and had to keep her energy up.
She seemed to be doing well with the food situation since they’d been here, so he was pleased. Heartburn was a bitch.
There was a flurry of activity at the front door maybe fifteen minutes later, and Max called out as he came in, stomping his boots. “Happy Thanksgiving!”
The sound of thundering footsteps on the stairs rattled the walls as everyone came from where they’d been playing or reading upstairs to welcome Max home because he was so, so far away.
Bobby glanced over at Evan and rolled his eyes, grinned. “Wow.”
“Right?”
Then he heard Mikey say, “Maxie, who’s her?”
“This is my girlfriend, Brett.”
Evan looked at Bobby. Bobby looked at Evan, and they both stood, hurrying to the door.
Evan made it to the foyer about the time Annette and Hillary did.
Sure enough, Brett was a lanky, slim, blonde girl wearing a sorority pin, a tight sweater, and a pair of leggings and fuzzy boots.
Dammit.
He opened his mouth to try to say…he wasn’t even sure what.
Of course, that was when Max opened his own mouth and told Hillary, “Fuck me, you’re the size of a house.”
All the kids and the new girlfriend giggled, and Hillary turned about the color of a sheet. She whirled, bumping Annette hard with her belly before running right to the kitchen.
“Maxwell Biyalik. You watch your mouth.” Annette, on the other hand, was not pale. Her cheeks were red as apples. “You,” she pointed to her younger children, “upstairs. You,” she said to Max, “dining room.” She pointed at Brett. “You can stand right there until I’ve decided what I’m going to do.”
The Brett gal’s eyes went wide as she opened her mouth but then she snapped it closed again, nodding because what else could she do in the face of Annette’s fury, which was a fucking force of nature.
Right now, it was pretty obvious that force of nature was a tornado.
He and Bobby motored after Annette and Max because Evan had a feeling this was going to require some finesse. If it had been a player of his he was representing, he would say this was a PR nightmare, and that he was going to have to spin something.
But this was not someone he repped. This was someone he considered family and Max had just insulted his… what?
Essentially Evan’s step-daughter.
Jesus, he hated Thanksgiving.