I nodded, unable to speak beyond the hundred different emotions clogging my throat.
“Dad,” Levi said in a rush of breath. I realized he’d been standing there the entire time, he’d heard my confession about sleeping with Logan. Now he knew everything. “Mom is freshening up, but she said we should start dishing up before the food gets cold.”
“I’ll check on her,” Rich said, clearly trying to get ahold of himself. “Go ahead.” He waved at the table. “Go ahead.”
Suddenly, it was just Levi and me. And Max, who was focused solely on his coloring and had forgotten about the rest of the world completely.
“Thank you,” he said suddenly, his words a burst of energy in the quiet space.
“F-for what?”
“For telling Max. For letting my parents be grandparents. For letting them in his life.”
I shrugged, turning to look at my son. “It’s not easy,” I whispered. “He’s all I have, Levi. I’m terrified of losing him.”
“You won’t,” Levi rushed to say. “They’re not here to take him from you. They just want to be part of his life. They just want to know him.”
I turned back and met his shining gaze. His eyes were a thousand percent greener after the tears he’d shed. “And what do you want, Levi?”
He didn’t flinch, his words didn’t waver, his entire body remained perfectly still. “I want to know Max, too,” he said. “I want to be in his life and be his family.” He glanced away for a second before turning back. “This is about Max, Ruby. Only Max. Whatever there was between us is over. We aren’t anything but the adults in Max’s life. You know that, right?”
A pang so sharp and biting spread across my chest, I thought for a second that it was a heart attack. I pressed the heel of my hand to where it hurt the most and tried to breathe through unexpected heartbreak. “Yeah, obviously. I know that.” I cleared my throat. “I’ve always known that, Levi. I-I just wanted to make sure we were okay.”
“Friends, right?” he asked, his brows furrowed and his mouth tight.
The words he always said rang through my head.It’ll be fun.But this wasn’t fun. Not at all. “We’ve been working on it, haven’t we? Friends, of course.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I whispered, the opposite of confident and clear.
“Okay!” Darcy announced as she stepped into the room with fresh powder on her face. It wasn’t enough to hide her bloodshot eyes and wobbly smile though. But when her gaze fell on Max, she glowed with warmth and it was enough to give me hope that even though I’d lost Levi, Max could have him instead. “Let’s eat, shall we?” Darcy asked.
We sat down to one of the only, real Thanksgiving dinners I’d ever had with people that were my son’s family and I found out what it was like to have joy in the midst of real heartache. Because as devastated as I was to lose Levi, that one meal showed me how amazing it was going to be for Max to have these people in his life.
They doted on him. They thought everything he said was the greatest thing they had ever heard. And they couldn’t wait to get to know him more.
I couldn’t say there weren’t completely awkward moments that made my chest ache and my head spin for something to say to smooth things out. But overall the meal was a success.
By the time we left that evening, after an incredible turkey dinner with all the fixings and a stilted game of Pictionary, I was not totally upset that the secret had been spilled. Everything was going to be okay.
Max was going to be okay.
I was even, maybe, going to be okay.
21
The Giving (It to You) Spirit
Two weeks later, I found myself hurrying Max through a light dusting of snow to save seats at the Clark City Elementary Christmas program for Darcy, Rich, and Levi. It was a strange feeling to need space for more than just me. Unsurprisingly, my mom had never made it to one of Max’s programs. Either she had to work or she just didn’t want to sit through an hour and a half of children singing.
But Darcy had called two days ago to triple check that I’d be able to save them seats. I promised I would again, just like I had the two times before that.
We’d exchanged numbers on Thanksgiving. She’d asked for mine so that she could call and talk to Max sometime. And she’d given me hers in case I ever needed something or a babysitter or just someone to talk to.
I had graciously accepted the number, but I had yet to imagine a scenario in which I would use it. After surviving six years of Max’s life without needing help outside of Coco and my mom, I had learned not to ask for help.
But only time would tell.
