He found them easily enough. Carla had helpfully supplied Jed with gift-wrapped presents, but Max had insisted on wrapping all his gifts in newspaper and string. At first there seemed to be no rhyme or reason, but it didn’t take long to spot that he’d saved the appropriate newspaper for each recipient’s birthday and searched out a pleasant page of news. The arts pages for Kim, the sport supplement for Nick. In Tess’s case, he’d found a story about a giant blueberry pie.
See? Good to the bone….
Later that day, Jed found himself resorting to an old habit of hiding out in the den of the Cooper house. Though Kim called it the family room, he’d figured long ago it was the best place to catch some much needed peace and quiet.
He sank down on the couch and put his head in his hands. For once, he didn’t feel sick and nauseated. He wasn’t even that tired. Instead, he was freaking the fuck out. Gifts and their resulting mess and noise, piles of food, the constant stream of neighborhood visitors…. Jed couldn’t keep up. Even the kids and their fiddly new toys grated on his stretched nerves.
A dry, ironic chuckle escaped him. Last year, he’d spent Christmas in Mosul, guarding the small Christian population of the city while they celebrated behind closed doors. A truck bomb had exploded just meters away from his patrol post and he hadn’t broken a sweat. Now? Now the tinny chattering noise of Tess’s new computer game set his teeth on edge.
The door to the den opened. Jed glanced up, expecting to see Max or Tess looking for him, or maybe Belle, or even Kim. The last face he expected to see was Nick’s. They’d hardly spoken since the chaos of Thanksgiving.
Nick stepped further into the room, proffering a plate. “I, uh, brought you some food.”
Startled, Jed took the plate. He set it on the coffee table, eying it warily. It was piled high with all sorts of crap he couldn’t eat, and he considered ignoring it, but then reached absently for one of Max’s stuffin’ muffins. Sometimes the homemade cornbread was the only thing he could stomach.
Nick hovered by the arm of the couch. “Are you okay?”
Jed sighed. Were they really going to play that game? “Yeah, man. Just tired.”
“Holidays not your thing?”
“They don’t seem to be yours either.”
Jed swallowed the last of the muffin. The sensation of food in his stomach felt good, like it would probably stay there. He leaned forward and inspected the rest of the plate, drawn to the foods he knew Max had cooked and pushing all the meat aside.
“Don’t tell me that kid has turned you into a hippy freak too.”
“Freak?” Jed’s tone was sharp enough to cut glass. Nick’s awkward geniality was one thing, and Jed could excuse him putting his foot in his mouth, but Max was off limits.
For a moment, Nick met his stare head-on, then he squirmed and shifted uncomfortably. “Uh, so how are you finding it up there? Tess said Max gave you the room with the view. I know you like the water.”
“It’s pretty cool. I like the quiet.” Jed got up, his appetite gone, and stretched his leg. His run had gone well, but his muscles were beginning to stiffen. He ran his gaze along the mantelpiece, taking in the plethora of family photographs. Most were of the kids, either with their arms around each other, with Kim, or with Max. There was only one of Nick, and it was clearly more than a few years old.
Nick appeared behind him, startling him for the second time. Jed had neither noticed himself drifting closer to the photographs nor Nick getting up. Nick reached around him and fumbled with a small frame hidden behind the rest. “Here.” He handed it to Jed. “Remember this? I didn’t until Kim dug it out of Dad’s old shit.”
Jed stared at the grainy image, taken almost twenty years ago to the day, and swallowed hard. He hadn’t seen his mother’s face in years. Even his memories of her were clouded by her long, slow death. Sometimes, the wizened, headscarfed creature dying in a hospital bed was all he could recall, a far cry from the statuesque blonde clutching her boys close in the photograph. “It looks like someone else.”
Nick reclaimed the frame and shoved it back in its place. “I know. Kim makes me keep it out, but I fucking hate that picture.”
The words, though flat and emotionless caught Jed by surprise, but Tess charged into the room before he could even consider a response.
Jed caught her before she could run right into him—he’d learned his lesson—and swung her up to sit on his good hip. “Hey, bug. Whatcha doing?”
“Looking for you, silly.” Tess didn’t spare a glance for her father. “I need your help. Mom doesn’t know how to play my new game, and Uncle Max says it makes his eyes go googly. Come see, come see.”
It was the out Jed needed. He set Tess on the floor and let her lead him from the room without looking back.
“FANCYAswim?”
Jed glanced behind him, grinning as Max dropped down beside him on the jetty. They’d been home from an exhausting day at the Cooper house for an hour or so, but Jed had yet to go inside. He’d retreated to the water’s edge as soon as he’d pulled the truck to a stop, craving some peace and solitude.
Max had let him be for a while, but it seemed his time was up. Not that Jed minded. Max was probably the only thing that could make the pristine quiet of the lake better. “It’s a little cold, even for me.”
“Oh yeah?” Max nudged him with his shoulder. In stark comparison to his own brittle fatigue, Max seemed pleasantly buzzed, like he’d had a few beers. Perhaps he had. “You’re probably right. I’ve never tried it in winter.”
“Do you swim here in the summer?”
Max’s grin faded. “Not anymore.”