Page 74 of The Perils of Pretending
“What was your favorite way to pass your summer breaks?” he asks.
“Same as you. Figure skating, hanging out with friends, playing at the park. But go back to your family. Tell me more about them.” The more I learn about Max, the easier it is to fill in the holes of what makes him who he is. I tease him a lot about his confidence levels, but I wonder if he inherited them from either of his parents.
“My dad was a human resource manager and my mom was a hair stylist before they retired. The brother just below me is an electrician in Juneau. My second youngest is a welder. He lives in Houston. And my youngest brother moved down to Florida with my parents. He’s a financial manager at a bank.”
I can’t even imagine what it would be like to have my immediate family scattered across the United States like that. “Doyou miss them?”
“Yeah, I do. It’s been a while since we’ve all been together. For Thanksgiving, we’re all going to my parents’ house in Florida. It’ll be fun to be together.”
I’m glad he gets to see them soon. With how close I am to my family in Utah, it would be so hard not to have them around. Of course, Chloe just moved across the country and I’m going to miss her like crazy, and if things keep going well for Lucy, she might move to Canada. My heart gets heavy. No one else in my cousin group is allowed to leave. I can’t bear us all going separate ways after being such a tight-knit group our whole lives.
“I’m excited for you,” I say. “Do you have any family traditions for the holidays or during the summer you hope to do with your own kids someday?”
“Not really for summer. I just want them to have a normal childhood like we did and not be glued to a screen. Holidays, on the other hand, I want to go all out.” Max’s voice takes on an excited edge as he talks. “For Halloween my mom would spend the entire month making themed food like mummy hotdogs, eyeball meatballs with green noodles, shrunken-head apple cider, skull pizza, and witch cookies. We always carved pumpkins the Sunday before Halloween and made a witch brew with dry ice. Then we’d watch Halloween movies together until it was time for bed. My mom always made the whole month magical.”
I’m jealous. “We always went to Grandma Sue’s for cornbread and chili before trick-or-treating, but that’s it. Your tradition sounds amazing.” And I’m totally stealing that idea for my own kids. Actually, why wait for when I have children? I’m doing it this year. “What about the other holidays?”
“Thanksgiving Day was spent with my mom’s family and the day after was with my dad’s. We watched football, ate turkey and pie. Mom had a big laminated turkey she’d hang up in our dining room on Novemberfirst, and every night we’d write one thing we were grateful for and add the feather to the turkey’s tail.”
We did something similar, but with a tree and leaves. “I totally want to meet your mom. She sounds like a creative woman and such a fun mom.”
“She totally is. Where do you think I got my awesomeness from?” Max sweeps the hand not holding mine down the front of him.
I laugh and shove his shoulder. “Tell me about Christmas and New Year’s Eve.”
“Like Halloween, the whole month of December was full of activities. We’d go sledding, skating, watch Christmas movies, bake, drive around to see lights, go snowmobiling, and do a clothing drive for people in need. My last Christmas at home before moving away to college, instead of presents, my parents took all of us dog sledding. That is a once-in-a-lifetime experience that I will never forget.”
My muscles tighten. “That’s on my bucket list from my dad. Too bad there isn’t a place in Homer to do it.”
“I hope you get the chance to go one day. Your dad wouldn’t want you to miss out.”
“Yeah, maybe. What did you do for New Year’s?”
Max smirks. “Make out at midnight. What else is there to do?”
I shoot him a disbelieving stare. “As a youth, you kissed girls? I’m not buying it.”
“As a kid, we played games and did a countdown at twelve then went to bed. But once I turned fourteen, I went to parties at my friends’ houses. I can officially say, ever since, I’ve always had someone to kiss at midnight on January first.”
My first reaction is that’s not something to brag about. Second, my stomach hardens, jealous of who those women were and if Max kissed them the same way he kissed me yesterday. My last reaction is that I’m impressed. I don’t remember the last time I had someone to smooch onNew Year’s Eve. “I hope you keep your streak alive.” And I wish so bad that it could be with me for the rest of his life, but I can’t get over his job. The fear and uncertainty of being a widow.
“Oh, I plan to.”
Moving on before I do something stupid and ask him to kiss me again. “Did your mom do anything fun for Valentine’s, St. Patrick’s, or Easter?”
“She didn’t do anything as big for those holidays, but for Valentine’s she’d leave paper hearts on our doors with reasons why she loved us. St. Patrick’s, the leprechaun brought a few green snacks, and we’d have green eggs and ham for breakfast, and then Irish stew with soda bread for dinner.”
“Was the bread shaped like a clover?”
Max chuckles. “No. I think by that point my mom was worn out from all the fall festivities. She took it easy for this one.”
“My dad always helped us build a trap, but we never did catch anything.”
“You don’t say,” Max says like he’s astonished that our methods failed us. “Those darn slippery little buggers.”
I take my hand out of his, smacking his shoulder again. “Stop it. We had fun and that’s what matters.”
Max grabs my hand again, putting it on his thigh, resting his hand over mine. Tingles race up my arm. “You’re right. What did you guys do for the holidays?”
