Page 36 of The Cut
Max smiled. ‘California brittle … you remembered.’ He stared at the box.
‘Happy Christmas. Don’t eat them all at once.’ For all the heartache between them, there was always room for a thoughtful gesture.
‘Don’t stress. We’re all packed, he just wanted to cool off.’ Cocoa came running up to nuzzle Brandon, then returned to Max’s side, where he proceeded to shake himself dry in a double drench. Brandon’s face cracked a smile, he just couldn’t help it. Max was surrounded by the kind of chaos that made him want to throw his arms around his ex-husband and chuck him into the pool. They both started laughing.
A dripping wet Charlie, wrapped in a fluffy white towel, tiptoed inside. ‘I’m ready. I’m ready … promise … please don’t be mad.’ He disappeared up to his bedroom.
‘He’ll be at least half an hour drying his hair.’ Max glanced up to Charlie’s bedroom.
‘Like father, like son.’ Brandon smirked. He was all open-necked plaid shirt and cowboy boots.
‘Wanna beer?’ Max headed inside.
‘Driving.’ Brandon wet his mouth at the prospect and glanced down at Max’s butt in damp shorts as he passed.
‘One won’t hurt.’ Max was at the fridge, two bottles of Stella Artois in his hand.
‘Still drinking that European crap?’ Brandon took the offering and cracked the top open on the door latch.
‘Tell me again where you’re taking Charlie on holiday?’ Max swigged his beer.
‘Italy.’ Brandon put the bottle to his mouth.141
‘So … you gonna eat Jack in the Box and drink Bud Light all trip then?’ Max ran his tongue over his teeth, grinning.
Brandon, for all his masculine bravado, was a shy country boy at heart. He fingered the St Christopher on the silver chain around his neck. ‘You could still come, you know. There’s “room at the inn”?’ He reddened – that was really hard to admit. ‘All that fresh powder and Bombardino on tap …’
Max was silent for a second. There was just the shiver of a moment between them when Brandon thought he was going to say yes, like a tear in silk.
‘Skiing? With my knees? … Nah, too much work on.’ Max glanced over to the stairs where Charlie was dragging a Spider-Man wheelie bag, clattering down the steps.
‘What have you got in there? The kitchen sink?’ Max ruffled Charlie’s hair and kissed his head.
‘Huh? No, just my boots, my helmet … and my Xbox, and my presents and …’
Brandon nearly spat out his beer. Both of them burst out laughing.
‘Good luck with that excess baggage.’ Max slapped Brandon on the shoulder and they headed out to the driveway for the farewells.
Charlie was all strapped in; the Xbox had been secretly extracted and left in the trunk of the ’75 Mustang. Max and Cocoa came around to the driver’s side to see them both off.
‘Will Santa Claus be able to find me up the mountain?’ Charlie’s red teeth were stuck together with a Twizzler.
‘Hell yeah! We sent him the address already.’ Brandon fired up the engine and hid his eyes under a pair of sleek Ray-Bans. ‘Hey … Don’t get so busy with the past that you miss the present.’ Brandon’s parting shot was like a punch in the gut.142
‘What do you mean?’ Max smiled at him, a smile that kept a brave face to the world.
‘I’ve been paying attention, babe.’ Brandon hadn’t called him that in a long time. ‘I just wish you’d pay a little more attention over here.’ Max glanced at Charlie, who was fiddling with the stereo. Brandon leant out of the window and lowered his shades. ‘Still havin’ nightmares?’
‘I produce horror movies … babe.’ It was sharper and more sarcastic than he’d meant it to be, and he instantly regretted it. ‘I’m dealing with it.’
‘Sure you are.’ Brandon pulled his baseball cap down over his eyes.
Max followed Brandon’s car down the drive, bending into the window, smiling at Charlie. ‘Stay on the piste … no daredevil stuff.’
Max stood at the end of the path, watching the blue Mustang disappear around the corner, Charlie waving frantically out of the rear windshield. And they were gone.
Max stared at the empty road and shook his head.
