“I can see why you’d prefer it here, though I’d probably wet my pants the first time an owl hooted. Is that a thing?”
“Yes, there are owls here, city girl.”
“Hey, I was born in Chicago, and my mother is opposed to camping on principle. ‘Our people have wandered the wilderness long enough and from now on, we sleep in warm beds.’”
“She sounds opinionated.”
“You have no idea.”
“Sit down. Unless you’re scared.”
“No, I’m okay.” Though I wasn’t quite sure why he’d brought me out here, I couldn’t deny that it was beautiful. I plopped down beside him, crossing my legs in a crooked Lotus pose.
Max let out a shaky breath, staring out at the river. He was careful not to look at me. “I got a call from my dad today.”
From what I knew of Max—not a whole lot, granted, as he didn’t talk much about his past—that was a huge deal. In the three years we’d been hanging out, he’d never mentioned his family. “Yeah?”
“My grandfather died.” His tone gave me no clue how to react, and the shadows were too deep for me to read his expression.
“Okay, so is this a ‘wow, I’m so sorry’ moment, or more ‘thank God the old bastard’s finally gone’? Give me something here, Max.”
He sat in silence for a few moments. “Little from column A, little from column B. See, I come from a long line of violent assholes. Good drinkers, too, proud, easily offended, even though none of us have ever amounted to shit.”
“Looks to me like that streak ends with you.” I put my hand on his where it rested on his knee, and he leaned toward me. Not going for a kiss but to rest his head on my shoulder.
“You always know what to say.” His voice was softer, warmed by my smooth talk.
“So what’re you doing about the funeral? Do you want me to help you pick out a floral arrangement or something?”
“No, that’s the thing. I brought you out here, hoping the incredible scenery would make you willing to do me a favor.”
“What’s that?” He had no pets and no classes yet that I could audit for him and take notes. So I was drawing a blank as to what Max could possibly need from me.
“I was hoping you’d come home with me. To Providence.”
“What? Why?” Those were the first of many questions to sputter out of me.
“I haven’t been back since I went away to school, and I can’t be alone with my dad, not even for a minute. It...won’t be good.”
I submerged the impulse to ask, Isn’t there anyone else? Because I knew the answer already, and I wouldn’t force-feed him that vulnerability on top of the shit sandwich life had already forced him to sample. But I couldn’t just pack a bag and ride off without some basic fact-finding. “How long will we be gone?”
“It’s a twelve-hour drive, but we’ll take regular breaks since you aren’t used to a long haul on the bike. I’m guessing five days, including travel.”
“Wait, we’re taking the motorcycle all the way to Rhode Island?”
As he turned his head, the moon popped out from behind a cloud, illuminating his smile. “You said we. So I guess so.”
“If I’m crazy enough to do this, you owe me some insider info on why.”
“Why?”
“You know what I’m asking. Why can’t you be polite long enough to put your grandfather in the ground? Or whatever you shegetz boys do.” I spoke the last sentence in a teasing tone.
Max got out his phone and turned it on, bright enough to startle me, then he pushed back the tumble of black hair, revealing a thin white scar. The screen flickered off, leaving me with the impression of his tan skin, dark eyes and the mark in sharp contrast. “I got that from my dad when I was eleven. Beer bottle. He chucked it, I didn’t duck in time.”
“Damn.”
“It’s not the only childhood souvenir.” He shrugged like it didn’t matter. “But that’s not why I can’t forgive him.”
“What happened?”
“Right now, I need an answer. Will you come?”
Angus and I didn’t have jobs, unlike Max and Nadia. Even if they disapproved of me, my parents still sent a regular allowance and paid my tuition. So there was no reason I couldn’t go to Providence with him; I just wasn’t sure it was a good idea. Some intuitive part of my brain sensed that it would change everything.
“Okay,” I said.
“Thanks so much, Kaufman. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“Because you don’t want to miss the services?”
Max shook his head. “My brother will be there.”
Before I could ask, he pushed to his feet, dusted off his ass and offered his hand. I took it and let him tow me upright. We retraced our steps back to the bike as I pondered how bad this was likely to be. My family might not be perfect, but nothing like this; it was only a matter of me refusing to conform to expectations, and my mother’s weapon of choice was guilt. He swung onto the motorcycle and I got on after him, troubled for reasons I couldn’t articulate.
The ride back to the apartment felt faster, probably because I knew where we were going. Angus still wasn’t home, so I just nodded a good-night to Max and headed to my huge, half-empty room. He surprised me by following, pausing in the doorway as if waiting for an invite.
“You can come in,” I said.
“I wasn’t sure. But I just wanted to tell you to be ready by seven.”
“Oh, my God. It’s already midnight. Go to bed, Max.” After setting my alarm, I got ready, packed a backpack and followed my own advice.
In the morning, Max tapped on my door as I was lacing up my boots. I’d packed a black dress and some flats, along with clean panties and a few spare T-shirts. The cargo pants would have to last until we got back. Fortunately, riding on the back of his bike wouldn’t even faze my hair, no need for curling iron or straightener. That made it easier to travel light.
“Ready?” he asked as I stepped out.
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
“Thanks.”
“You said that last night.”
“I want to be sure it comes across. There’s no way I could go back by myself.”
A small, curious part of me noticed that he didn’t say home but it seemed like the wrong time to dig into his motivations. Pausing in the kitchen, I rearranged the fridge magnets to read: Gone. Back Later. I’d text Angus at a more respectable hour and explain the situation, assuming this wasn’t top secret for reasons unknown to me.