“Oh, no,” I said, genuinely feeling sorry for her, but also at the thought of the two of them trying to make a new life away from the abusive man she married and who fathered the man I loved.
I was feeling a bit unworthy of taking this amazing gift, but I also knew I couldn’t reject it. That would have been an insult of the highest order.
I reached out for her and we hugged.
“I want you to have it,” she said, “because you’re going to be Max’s wife and the mother of his children.”
I pulled back from her, my arms still on her shoulders. I could feel my eyes drying out quickly from being open wide and not being able to blink.
“Relax,” she said. “I don’t know when it’s going to happen. I just know it is. I can read my son. Trust me. And I don’t know when you’ll have your first child. I may not be around to see the day.”
SEVEN
A few days before flying to Ohio for Christmas, I went to see Max’s mother. Alone.
With things becoming serious between Max and me, I wanted to be a part of his entire world, and for me that meant making an effort to be closer with his mom, someone who was extremely important in his life.
I told Max that I wanted to make it a day trip, treat Paula to lunch, and give her the Christmas gift I’d purchased for her.
So I called Paula that morning and surprised her. I figured she wouldn’t have any plans, as she didn’t do much socially, and she said she’d be excited to see me.
I picked her up at her house and we went to a little restaurant tucked between a shoe store and a nail place in a strip mall.
The place had a wood floor that creaked with each step, and the air was redolent of grilled meat and steamed vegetables. A perky hostess lead us to a table near the front of the restaurant where Paula sat with her back to the window and I sat across from her, with a clear view of the sidewalk and street.
We both ordered salads with grilled salmon chunks and as we ate, she told me more about Max as a child.
“He was always a little introverted and quiet. Did he ever tell you the story about how he didn’t talk until he was four?”
I stopped chewing, surprised, and shook my head.
She laughed lightly. “He made noises and the typical cooing that you’d expect from a baby. But the more his father and I tried to get him to speak, the more he would look at us like we were aliens or something. We became concerned about it, so I took him to the pediatrician.”
“Wow.”
She nodded, sipping her tea. “Yeah, we had just reached a point of panic, I suppose. We knew he wasn’t deaf — he would respond to noises — but we feared maybe it was something neurological. But it wasn’t anything. You know what the doctor told me?”
“What?”
“He said, ‘Maybe he just doesn’t have anything to say.’”
We both laughed at that. Not only because it was a funny comment coming from a medical professional, but because we were talking about Max, whose entire life was built around using words.
Actually, written words more than spoken, now that I thought of it. Maybe that had something to do with him being more comfortable writing words that others would speak.
Then again, he was never at a loss of words when it came to me….
“He’s nothing like that now,” I said, not elaborating any further.
“Oh, no, he’s much different.”
“So, when did he start talking?”
She thought about it for a few seconds as she chewed and then said, “Five and a half. Then he wouldn’t stop. Of course he started to become a little withdrawn and that’s when he started writing.”
I looked out the glass front of the restaurant because a woman walking by caught my eye. Her entire head was wrapped in gauze. I briefly wondered if she had been in some kind of accident, but then when I saw her oversized breasts, I realized that she probably had just had some work done north of her new boobs.
“I’m sure he told you about our life before California?” Paula asked.
“He did.”
A somber look overtook her face like a veil of sadness and regret.
“I’m not going to ask,” I reassured her. “But I’d love to know anything else you’d like to share about Max.”
Her face brightened again. Clearly he was the jewel of her life. She was so proud of him, as well she should be.
“You’re the first young woman he’s introduced me to.”
“Really…”
She said, “I mean, aside from when he was a teenager. He had a girlfriend that we knew, but only somewhat. In California, though, he’s always kept his girlfriends to himself. I’m not sure what that’s all about. I’m a nice person, easy to get along with.”
She really was. “I don’t think it has anything to do with you,” I said. I wondered if he had ever so much as mentioned Tyler to his mother. Maybe it was better that I not find out the hard way.
She lowered her voice and said, “He’s nothing like his father.”
I just looked at Paula, her eyes radiating sincerity.
“I know,” I said. “And for what it’s worth, I really love him.”
Later, when we got back to her house, she made orange spice tea, and told me it was a Christmas tradition with her family that her great-grandmother started. I pretended to like it, but worried a little about future Christmases with her. I’d have to find a way around that. At least she didn’t offer me any fruitcake.
I sat on the couch with a dog on each side of me. I couldn’t have told you which was Zeke and which was Dolly. But who really cared? They were cute and friendly, and the more time I spent at Paula’s house, the more I realized they truly were her live-in family.
“This is wonderful,” she said, as she opened the Christmas gift I gave her. “I’m going to put it right up here.” She walked over to the fireplace and put it on the mantle, just above the three stockings, one of which had my name on it.
The gift was a framed picture of Max and me, taken by Anthony on the night we had the cookout. The Pacific was in the background, the sun was setting, and Max had playfully grabbed me by the waist, dipped me in dramatic fashion, and kissed me. Anthony snapped the picture without us knowing.
It was then that I noticed for the first time, despite having been in her house several times, that the only picture she had displayed in the entire house was one of Max as a baby. There were no other family photos. I wondered if there was a sad reason for that, and figured there probably was.