“You’re here. The boys are here. I’m good.” I tip my head down and brush my mouth across hers. “Let’s get the boys fed.”
“Sure,” she agrees. I go to the kitchen with the bags, and a moment later, she comes in with her arms full of the shit off the coffee table. Without a word, she puts the stuff away while I unload dinner from the two full bags she brought with her. “I got a little of everything,” she says as I place a large container of coleslaw next to one just as big that’s filled with mac and cheese.
“I see that.”
“I figured if there were extra you could take it to work for lunch.”
I grin. “Babe, when has there ever been leftovers when you’ve been around and the boys are present?”
“True.” She returns my grin, and I lean over, kissing the top of her hair, and then notice Max standing on the opposite side of the island, looking nervous.
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
“Come here, kid,” I order, and he shifts his feet before coming around to me. Once he’s close, I pull him into a hug. “I love you.”
“I know,” he mutters.
I tip my head down to look at him. “Are you filled up on junk food?”
“Mom just put a bunch of stuff on the coffee table for me. I didn’t eat much of it.”
“All right.” I let him go. “Get plates out then go tell your brother it’s time to eat.”
“I’m standing right here,” Mitchell says, and then he looks at December. “Thanks for bringing dinner.”
“Sure, honey.” She smiles softly at him then looks at me, and I know she can feel the undercurrent of tension that seems to be filling the kitchen by the second.
“Dad,” Max prompts, and I look to where he’s standing and getting out plates. “I… I don’t want to live with Mom, even if it’s just part time.”
“Max—”
“I heard her say she’s going to get a lawyer. I just want…. Well, I just want to say I don’t want to live with her, even if she moves here.”
“Dude, Mom isn’t moving back to town,” Mitchell tells him, sounding annoyed. “She’s never moving back here. She’s just saying that, because she’s mad that Dad and December are together, so she’s trying to mess that up.”
“But—”
“She doesn’t care about us, Max.” Mitchell turns on his brother. “When are you going to get that?”
“Mitchell,” I growl, as December whispers, “Mitchell, honey—”
“It’s true.” He glances at December then faces me. “She doesn’t care about us. She only cares about herself, and he needs to get that.”
“I know that!” Max suddenly screams, and December, standing close, wraps her arms around him. “I know she doesn’t, but she’s still our mom.”
“Shit, Max.” Mitchell shakes his head. “I’m sorry, dude.” The torment I see in his expression makes my gut twist. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I—” He drops his eyes to the floor.
“I want both you boys to look at me,” I order then wait for them to focus on me. “It’s okay to be angry or disappointed with your mom, but it’s not okay to take that out on each other. We’re a family, and as a family, we stick together. We talk shit out and then we move on. Max, you’re not going anywhere, even if your mom moves back here. You won’t be living with her unless there comes a time when you’re a little older and you make that decision for yourself,” I assure him, and his chin wobbles. “Mitchell, I get why you’re angry, and you deserve to feel that way, but your brother has a right to his feelings too, and you need to respect them.”
“You’re right, Dad,” he says, and I lift my chin.
“I love you both, and I hate that you’re hurting.” I pull in a breath. “It fucking kills me that you’re fighting about your mom.” My jaw clenches and unclenches with frustration. I feel like my hands are tied when it comes to Beth and the role she has in the boys’ lives. I never want them to resent me for not allowing them to have a relationship with their mother, but the relationship she has with them is not healthy in the slightest. “We need to figure out a way for both of you to get what you need to be happy.”
“I just feel bad for Mom,” Max says quietly then he looks at his brother. “She’s all alone.”
“She wants to be alone, Max,” Mitchell says just as softly. “She didn’t have to leave. She never had to leave us. She made that decision for herself.”
“I guess you’re right. I still feel bad for her,” he mumbles.
I reach out, tagging them both behind the neck then pulling them close. “No more fighting. Got it?”
“Yeah, Dad,” Mitchell says, and Max nods.