Max frowned. “I don’t know much about stuff like that. Does that mean you were different from your parents?”
“Yeah. When my mom was sick she needed a lot of transfusions. Her blood type was O, and so was Frank’s. He knew because he got typed in the Navy. Type O parents can only produce O children.”
It all sounded so clinical now, but Jed remembered the day he’d found out like it was yesterday. He remembered running all the way home, pushing past a drunken Frank in the hallway of their beat-up house, and going straight to his mom’s old dresser….
He yanked open a drawer and fumbled around until he came to a thick envelope that contained all the household’s official documents: certificates of marriage, birth, and death. Thin pieces of paper that went full circle. He pulled out his own birth certificate and scrutinized it, but it didn’t make any sense. It was there in black and white. Frank Cooper was his father.
“Figured it out, have you?”
Jed whirled around. “What?”
“I knew this day would come, that you’d finally realize you’re just your momma’s bastard boy. Yeah, that’s right. Your momma was nothing but a slut when I met her. I only stuck around because she tricked me into having your brother. Count the days till you turn eighteen, boy, because mark my words, you’ll be out of here by first light the next day.”
It hadn’t quite turned out like that. Frank had forgotten his promise to throw Jed out until the day after graduation… until the day Nick had walked in on him kissing his prom date’s brother. After that, the rest was history.
“So, who is your dad? Have you met him?”
Jed laughed with little humor. “No. I have no idea who he is… was, whatever, and I don’t care.”
“You’re not even curious?”
Jed could tell by Max’s wide eyes that he didn’t understand, but that didn’t stop him from being a heartless bastard. “Dude, I’m thirty-two years old. The time for a white knight riding into my life has come and gone. I don’t give a fuck anymore.”
Max pushed a mug of tea into his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“You didn’t, but I haven’t thought about all that shit for a long time. Sometimes I forget how much it used to matter.”
“It still matters, Jed. You’ve just forgotten why.”
Max made no further comment and went back to whatever crackpot job he was doing, but Jed knew he understood. Max was young, vibrant, and full of life, but Jed knew there was real pain behind the absent words of wisdom he offered when Jed needed them most.
Jed took a good look at what Max was doing. There seemed to be open bags of dry food on almost every available surface. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Making granola.” Max said it as though it was the most normal thing in the world, though for him, it probably was. “What nuts do you like? I’ve got, like, six open bags.”
“I don’t eat granola.”
“Maybe you should,” Max countered. “It’s good for you.”
“So is yoga. I don’t do that either.”
Max opened his mouth, but Jed cut him off before he could suggest something really fucking stupid. He ventured further into the kitchen, slid his arms around Max’s waist and put his chin on his shoulder. He was still adapting to living in the same space as someone he’d slept with, but touching Max was addictive.
He considered the bags of nuts and wordlessly selected the peanuts and cashews. Max tipped them into his tray and pointed to a faded bag of coconut. Jed shook his head. The smell of coconut had always turned his stomach, even before nausea became his constant companion.
He released Max and left the kitchen to fetch his laptop. He came back as Max shut the oven door with a bang.
“What are you doing today?”
Jed set his laptop on the table and sat down. “Working. Why? Do you need me for something?”
“No.”
Max pulled out a chair and flopped down opposite Jed. He drummed his fingers on the table. Jed eyed him for a moment, then closed his laptop before it had even booted up. “How long will your granola take?”
“Ten minutes. Why?”
Jed pushed his chair back and stood up. “Go get your shit. Let’s go out.”
