Page 47 of Eternal Pieces

He frowns at me, but to my surprise, doesn’t reprimand me for disrespecting him.

“Alright, I’ll get straight to the point. Maddox told me about your job.”

I sit a little straighter. How does Maddox know I quit? I’ve been pretending to go every morning and then wandering around the city or hanging out in the park or gym until it’s time to go home.

Dad leans forward on his desk and steeples his fingers under his chin. “Are you really happy there? You have plenty of skills and experience from your baseball days, Max. It’s a shame to waste them. I’ve been speaking to coach Reid, and he says he’d love to have you assist him. You can work part-time if you need to.” He nods toward my bad side. “How is it nowadays?”

“I’m managing,” I say gruffly.

“I’m glad. I’ll set you up a meeting with Reid before you leave Monday, then.” He starts writing it down in his schedule.

“I don’t want that.”

The pen stops mid-word on the page. Dad slowly meets my gaze. “But it was your life. You can’t leave it all behind because of what happened. Some of your old teammates are still in town; you could visit them, get a reminder of what you always loved. You can still make a career out of it despite everything.”

“I’m not doing this again.”

I stand up to leave, but Dad stops me. “Max, please. I…I only want what’s best for you. I don’t know how to talk to you anymore, you’re always so closed off.”

Turning back to him, I’m ready to lash out, but as soon as I see his somber face, my anger vanishes.

“When I first told you I got a job, you were happy for me. Was it a lie?”

“No. But I know you, Max. You can hate me all you want for pushing you so hard back then, but you enjoyed it. Until Violet came along.”

I open my mouth to interrupt him, but he carries on.

“I see it now. The love you were missing. I put so much energy into securing your future that I didn’t stop to see what you needed in the moment. I should have been a better father. Which is why I have to ask why you have this job? Maddox is starting his own business doing what he loves, Violet will have the babies to look after?—”

I scoff. “She doesn’t want to be a stay-at-home mom. She wants a career of her own.”

“Will she have time? I remember how hard it was raising twins, your mother didn’t want a nanny to help, so she did it herself while I worked until…”

“Until she died, and you chose to work harder. I don’t hate you for that. Not anymore. But it’s not what I want for my family.”

He walks around his desk so we’re eye to eye, and I see how tired he is. The trial’s probably taken a lot out of him, even though he’s not directly working it.

“Then what do you want? I can help.”

“I appreciate it, Dad. You’ve done a lot for Mad and Violet, and now for the babies. Honestly, all I want is for them to be looked after. You’ve done more than enough. The rest of it is up to us to figure out by ourselves.”

He gives me a solemn nod. I turn to leave, and suddenly he hugs me. “I really am proud of you, Max.”

My shoulders start to feel a little lighter.

Upstairs, I find Violet asleep in Mad’s bed. His body curled around hers, his hand resting on her bump over the covers. I leave them in peace and head across the hall to my room. I’ve not been in here since I left to find Violet. It’s been tidied up since then. New sheets are on the bed, and there’s not a speck of dust anywhere.

My trophies are all neatly lined up on the shelves where I left them. I used to stare at them each morning, psyching myself up to go to practice. Now I feel nothing when I look at them. Is this what moving on feels like? Have I reached the final stage of my grieving?

Deciding it’s time for them to go for good, I grab some trash bags and boxes from the garage and start clearing up.

I don’t realize I’ve lost track of time until I hear Violet’s concerned voice behind me. “What are you doing?”

“Sorting my shit out. I don’t need this anymore.” I smile at her, gesturing to the boxes. She doesn’t say anything, just gives me a worried look.

Letting out a lighthearted laugh, I take hold of her hands and sit her on the edge of my bed. “I’m not having a breakdown. This feels really good. I’m past it all now, so there’s no point holding onto any of it. I actually need to talk to you both. I have a confession to make?—”

“It can’t be that bad if you’re smiling,” Mad says, leaning against my desk, his blond hair messy from sleep and sticking up at the top.

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