Kate
I know Steven is miles away, but it doesn’t stop me from looking over my shoulder every few seconds. I make quick work of tidying my classroom. I pack everything that I can complete at home in my bag. I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to.
It’s a foreign feeling, not being the last teacher left in the building. I can count on one hand how many times this has happened. As I walk out to my car, an intense itch under my cast ensues. It’s becoming worse as each day passes.
Planning on walking to Max’s house for dinner, I indulge in a glass of wine in hopes of relaxing after the day at work. As usual, my thoughts drift to the two men in my life. Max was so relaxed today when he picked up Finn. Not going to lie, I was stressed all day about what would go down when he picked up Finn.
Knowing Steven is out of town at an educational conference soothes some of that worry. There’s a lingering threat looming over me, and I can’t shake it. The wine does help relax me and eases some of the worry and dread. Before I know it, it’s time to head to Max’s house.
Today is the big day where Max crossed all of his t’s and dotted all of his i’s in his battle to gain full custody of Finn. He came out the victor in the war; granted, Ally didn’t put up much of a fight, but I’m sure she’s not out of the picture forever. I refuse to let that thought have any power over the celebration tonight. Max went through the whole process with his parents at his side. I won’t lie, it killed me a bit not to be involved as I would’ve liked, but in the end, it was for the best. Max had to do this for him and did one hell of a job.
I’m a guest tonight in Finn’s brand new home. There’s no way I’m about to go in empty handed. I purchased the largest bottle of ketchup I could find and tied it off with a bright blue bow. And you can’t ever go wrong when bringing sweets. Finn may despise vegetables, but his sweet tooth is strong. I go for the homemade variety, straight from the local bakery. That’s as homemade as it gets around here.
Max’s quaint house is all lit up when I step onto the porch. I peer into the kitchen window that’s cracked open, allowing the aroma of dinner to seep out, to see Max stirring a pot on the stove while Finn builds with blocks, sketching down ideas as he goes. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they’d done this routine for years now.
I knock lightly on the door. I see Finn’s head pop up. He’s off his chair and scrambling to the door.
“Hey.” Max turns from the stove. “What did we talk about earlier?”
Finn drops his head. I’m hoping he bounces back from this like the other times he’s dropped his head in front of Max. I know there’s going to be a day where Finn has a meltdown. Everything right now is brand new and shiny. Max has been respectful to Finn’s quirks. One day it will happen, and that will be the true test.
When Finn doesn’t answer or make eye contact, Max continues. “You need to let me know when you answer the door. Once you have permission, it’s all on you, little man. Okay?”
Finn nods.
“You’re not in trouble. I just want to keep you safe.”
“But it’s Miss Kate,” Finn replies, stepping away from Max.
“That’s who we are expecting, but it could be someone else,” Max continues in an even tone.
“Like a bad guy. One of Mom’s friends?” Finn asks.
Oh, shit. Max’s jaw ticks, and he visibly takes a few deep breaths before carrying on. “It could be anyone, and that’s why I need to know.”
“Okay.” Finn nods. “Max-Dad, can I answer the door?”
Max glances out the window to see my face all but plastered to it, watching the scene fold out. I take his nod as a cue to knock again. The door whips open. Finn smiles brightly up at me.
“I was right, Max-Dad. You were wrong. It’s just Miss Kate.” Finn waves at me.
I make a mental note to do a mini-lesson in class on answering the door and making sure their parents are always around.
Max shakes his head, continuing to tend the dinner on the stove top.
“Miss Kate, do you want to see our house? I can give you the tour.”
“I’d love that, Finn.”
“Oh, wait!” He dashes to the refrigerator, tugging down a piece of paper. “Look at my new name.”
In his perfect handwriting, Finn James is printed front and center.
“I am so happy for you, Finn James,” I say, trying out his new name for myself.
“Okay, but can you wait? I need to finish this.” He bounces back up into the chair, darts out his tiny tongue, and goes back to his blocks.
This is a prime example of a Finn meltdown. If he were to be forced to leave his blocks and move onto another task, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. I make another mental note to talk to Max about my idea of Finn being on the autism spectrum. Although I suspect he’s on the high-functioning end, it will help Max better understand his son.
“Sure can. I’ll see if your Max-Dad needs help over here.” I make my way to Max as he’s setting the cookies at his side.
He keeps his back to me as he stirs a red pasta sauce on the stove with large chunks of sausage and vegetables in it.
“Smells great, babe.” I squeeze his side that’s not visible from Finn’s view.
“You do too.” He looks over his shoulder and winks.
“Brought my famous cookies.”
“They are my favorite.” I can hear the mischievous tone in his voice.
I step to his side and lean on the counter, crossing my arms and facing him as he continues to focus on finishing the meal. “How’s he doing?”
“Good. I’m no fool and know it’s still the honeymoon phase between us. A bit nervous for tonight,” he admits.
“You’ll be fine. I’m clearly no parent, but I do know from teaching there’s really no right or wrong way. You two will find this out as you go.” I can’t help myself and reach over, tucking my fingers in the waistband of his jeans.
Max in a tight black t-shirt, worn jeans, and barefoot, cooking dinner, is a sight that has me simmering just like the pasta sauce in the pan.
“Yeah, found that one out when I told Finn he could take his shoes off inside. He wasn’t having any of it. The more I encouraged, the more frustrated he became. So I watched him toe them off, tie the laces perfectly once they were off, and place them right by the door. It took him several times to get them just right.” Max shakes his head.
A timer goes off. He steps back, breaking our connection as he grabs a pair of oven mitts and pulls out perfect golden brown pieces of garlic toast. There’s so much I could tell Max about Finn. It’s hard not to keep my knowledge to myself, but in this setting, I’m the girlfriend. Girlfriend? Is that what I am? It feels like so much more, but that’s the role I am in. It’s not my place right here to explain what I think. Lord knows we have enough stress in our relationship already.
I bounce from my thoughts and help set the table. Max went all out with salad, garlic toast, steamed vegetables, and pasta with a tomato sauce.
“Okay, I’m done.” Finn claps his hands together, staring down at his masterpiece. “Come see my room, Miss Kate.”
“First,” I grab the bottle of ketchup from my purse, “here’s a congratulations gift.”
Finn beams, snagging it from my hand and putting it in the cupboard. “Thanks, but we already have one.”
Max clears his throat.
I shake my head at Max, not bothered one bit by Finn’s reaction to the gift.
“Go show Kate your room, then wash up, okay, little man?” Max smiles.
Finn nods and walks down the hallway. I follow him, knowing it’s his way of inviting me. I’d never tell him I’ve seen the room. Hell, I put it together from painting the walls.
“Look.” Finn swings the door wide open. He races over to the bed and jumps up on it, staring down at the geometrical pattern on the bed. “I’ve never had one of these.”
His last words are so hushed I barely make them out. “A room?”
I take a seat next to him on the bed.
He shakes his head. “No, my own bed. Mom didn’t have one for me, and I had to share or borrow one when at other people’s houses.”
I glance up to see Max standing in the doorway, leaning on it, with his hands crossed over his chest.
I rub his back. “Well, look at you, then. This is very special.”
He nods his head. “I really like it here.”
“It’s awesome. Can I tell you a secret?”
He twiddles his fingers together, still staring down at his lap. “Yep.”
“It’s my favorite place besides my classroom.”
“Me too,” he agrees.
I let Finn have some moments of silence to digest everything. I can’t imagine what he’s processing right now. His little mind must be going a mile a minute. This is a brand-new world for him. It can’t be easy when his previous one was filled with nothing but trauma and abuse and was as unsteady as they come.
“I’m going to share some friendly advice with you, Finn.” I stand up from the bed and kneel before him. “I know you very well. I know what you like and don’t like. I know how you put ketchup on everything and that you need time to move from one thing to another. I also know you are very particular about the things you do. Do you know who doesn’t know this?”
Finn replies with a simple, “No.”
“Max-Dad and the soon-to-be new people in your world.” I drop my own head, not sure how to move on or if this is even making any sense to him. “It’s going to be hard learning how both you and Max-Dad react to things, but I want you to make me a promise that you’ll do your best to tell Max-Dad these things. If you’re feeling frustrated and want to shut down, maybe you can do what we do in the classroom?”
There’s a reading corner in my classroom. Early in the school year, I realized quickly Finn needed it to get himself together. When he was overwhelmed or not ready to move on to a task, I told him he could go over there for a few minutes to collect himself. It helped in the transition when we were both still learning the ropes of the classroom.
He nods, and that’s all I need. The floorboards outside the hallway creak. I glance back to see Max has disappeared. I worry my lips, afraid I’ve gone too far talking to Finn and giving him advice.
“Let’s go eat. Dinner looks amazing.” I pat the top of Finn’s leg.
He follows me down the hallway. We round into the tiny kitchen where Max is sitting at the table with his elbows propped up on it and his chin resting on his clutched hands. He shows no sign of emotion. I can’t read if he’s pissed off or enjoying the evening, which makes me nervous as hell. I tend to read the man like an open book. Pretty sure the way he wears everything he’s feeling on his sleeve is what first drew me to him.
“Looks amazing.” I take a seat next to Max, leaving one open right across from me.
Finn’s tower of blocks remains sitting at the end of the table. He closes his journal and sets it on the chair in front of his creation. A showdown is about to happen, and I wait with bated breath to see how it plays out.
Finn climbs up into the empty chair across from me. Max eyes the blocks, then Finn, and then back to the blocks. They clearly don’t belong on the dinner table with delicious food surrounding us. Max asking Finn to put away the blocks would be completely acceptable and what any other parent would do.
“Ketchup!” Finn points at the bottle in the middle of the table, breaking the silence in the room. “Thanks, Max-Dad.”
Max’s demeanor finally cracks with a smile on his face. He gently scoops a small portion of each dish on Finn’s plate, ignoring the hisses he receives. The loudest comes when steamed vegetables hit his plate.
“I want you to take a bite of everything, okay? You have to grow up healthy and strong, little man.” Max adds an extra heaping of vegetables to his own plate and then makes a show of eating them first.
It’s a great tactic but does no good. Finn props himself on his knees and reaches for the ketchup, proceeding to squirt generous amounts all over his food, leaving nothing untouched, not even the salad.
Max tenses. I reach under the table and grab his hand. Max says a quick prayer, even though he’s already taken several bites of vegetables. It’s symbolic of our relationship and the night we are having, reminding me of a favorite quote of mine from Annette Funicello. “Life doesn’t have to be perfect to be wonderful.”
“I have never had these kind of noodles. I love spaghetti noodles.” Finn stirs the pasta around his plate.
“They’re called rigatoni noodles,” I say.
Finn shakes his head and rolls his eyes. To most, it may come across as rude and bratty. Not in his case, because of course he knew this and thinks everyone else should as well.
“I know, Miss Kate. They taste the same because the same ingredients are made to use them. They’re just a different shape and thickness.”
“And happen to be my favorite,” I add, popping one in my mouth.
The rest of the dinner goes amazing as we enjoy the meal Max prepared, the only sound being our forks clattering against the plates. Finn cuts up each rigatoni noodle so they resemble spaghetti and devours them. He manages to get one itty-bitty bite of vegetables down—soaked in ketchup.
“Go do your thing, and I’ll clean up since you cooked.” I lean over and kiss Max on the cheek. “It was delicious.”
We both look over to Finn to see if he noticed the action. He didn’t. He has his head down on the table, staring at his blocks. His tiny finger runs along the bottom bright yellow one.
“Don’t leave until I have him tucked in?” Max returns the kiss.
“Wouldn’t think about it.”
Max forces himself away from me. I hand dry the dishes and give it my best guess where they go. Max is as organized as they come. I’m not sure if it’s from his time serving in the military, or if just maybe he has a bit of Finn in him as well.
Max has opened up about his time serving. He went through the gamut of emotions sharing stories. The pride that exudes from him about his service makes my heart swell.
I finish putting away all the dishes and wipe the counter and table. Max still hasn’t appeared from the hallway. I notice the bottle of rum on the shelf and spot a half empty bottle of white wine in his fridge. It’s the one from our first night together when I drank way too much.
My cast makes a loud clatter in the silent kitchen when I reach in for it. I’m walking, so why the hell not? I love indulging in a glass of wine after dinner.
There are no wine glasses to be found in his cupboards. I’m guessing I either drank straight from the bottle or used a plastic cup from his college. Hell, I could’ve drank from a wine glass and broke it; I don’t remember the small details. What I do remember is all that matters. Max. His scent. Him holding me.
I sink onto his couch. The memories invade. This will forever be my favorite couch on Earth. If I have my way, Max will never sell it. I take a sip of my wine, enjoying the sweet and tangy chill of the alcohol. I could so easily fall asleep here without a second thought, but I know better. We have a deck of cards stacked up against us. I’m willing to be patient.
I’m one swallow away from finishing my wine when the hall light flips off and Max appears. He ducks into the kitchen and comes back with a bottle of water. The couch sinks next to me. He doesn’t leave a sliver of an inch between us.
“You didn’t have to clean it all up.” He twists the top off the bottle and takes a chug.
I’m mesmerized at the way his throat bobs with each swallow. I could drink this man in all day every day and never get bored.
“Did he fall asleep okay?” I ask, snuggling into his side.
Max nods. “Yeah, he had to check the sheets and make sure they were tucked in. I’m fairly certain he was wanting to tear off the bedding and make a pile on the floor. It’s what he’s used to. I let him read me a book.” Max chuckles. “I’m supposed to be the one reading to him. But he was damn giddy to read his book about sugar ants to me. Did you know those annoying bastards are mainly nocturnal and nests in holes in wood?”
I smile, loving hearing about his time with Finn. Even with the threat of bad times ahead, these precious moments have so much more power.
“I do know this, and only because of Mr. Finn, who explained in detail today while the other students were at recess.”
“He doesn’t go to recess?” Max drags his hand up and down my leg that’s curled into him.
I take a second to relish in his touch. It has more power to make me drunk than the wine I consumed.
“Not really.” I shrug.
“Why?” Max stiffens.
“Did you notice how he wouldn’t leave his blocks tonight when he said he’d show me his room? And your story about how he had to take his shoes off? It’s his tics. Typically, he’s engrossed in a task and doesn’t want to leave it. I feel, and I may be wrong,” I pause, swallowing down the nerves that I’m about to broach this subject, “Finn’s only safe place had been at school until now. I can’t imagine what his poor body and mind went through when he never had a solid environment to thrive in. Finn is Finn. He processes things his way. I’ve never wanted to rip that away from him in the one place he feels safe.”
Max clears his throat. “I don’t know how to ask this, Kate. Anyway I do I’ll sound like a dick. What’s wr—”
I press a finger to his lips before he has the chance to finish his question. There’s no easy way of asking, and I never want him to regret anything. It’s not easy. I’m not even a parent, and I still know that all too well, from earning my master’s in early education and the short time I have been teaching.
“Max,” I twist to completely face him, “Finn is healthy. Finn is now happy. He is so smart it blows me away every day. Every kid has their own tics and the way they learn and thrive in life. There’s nothing wrong with him, Max. The beautiful thing is he is unique, himself, and learns the way he wants.”
Max drops his head to mine, exhaling harshly. I feel the stress rip away from his body.
“Thank you,” Max whispers.
“You okay?” My lips brush against him with each syllable.
“Yeah.” He kisses me quickly. “Want an ugly truth?”
“Always.” I run my fingers along his jawline.
“I’d be drowning in whiskey without you. I need this and you.” He pauses, kissing me hard. “A long time ago, I really thought I was in love. I was so very wrong. It stilted me and turned me into a man I didn’t recognize. I found myself leaving on a journey that was calling my name. The part of my life that I thought broke me has brought me back to life. It’s all because of you, Kate. You had the courage to call me. Reach out when nobody else would help Finn. You saved me. You saved us.”
His lips crash into mine without abandonment. It’s fierce and hot as we claw at each other, not keeping one single part of our souls at bay. We give it all. His taste invades my mouth with each sweep of his tongue.
Max flips us so once again he’s on top of me. Tonight he doesn’t strip me. He bares just enough so we can connect. It’s all we need because we have everything right now. I wiggle my good arm down between us. I can’t wait for this damn cast to come off. Only a few more weeks. I manage to free him.
Max doesn’t ask for permission this time or take it slow. He thrusts into me like he owns me, and he does. His tempo is slow, deliberate, and precise with each movement. The tension inside me churns painfully slow to a slipping point.
Max swells inside me. It sends me over the edge. I want to scream and pull Max closer but settle for tugging on his hair as he spills into me. I’m nothing but a melted heap of limbs and lust.
“I love you,” I whisper, continuing to drag my hand through his hair.
Max doesn’t move. My eyelids grow heavy as his breathing evens out. It’s the perfect lullaby.