Aubrey had taken what was his. Stolen from him his very flesh and blood and not had the decency to let him know he had a son in the world? With such an egregious offense to him and his family, the very least she could do was open up her home to him. He supposed it might be nice for Max to have both his parents in one place, even for a short while. At least before Justin took his son back to New York.
Chapter 4
Camp Willow was only ninety-six miles from Rockwater Farms, but for Aubrey it felt as though she were driving to Alaska. The car was silent. Max sat beside her in the front seat, but his eyes were glued to the screen of his cell phone, which was the one concession Aubrey had made to the fact that Max was no longer a little kid. She turned off I-70 and took the frontage road north. The terrain was hilly for Kansas, lush and green and not at all what you’d expect, which was what, in part, at least according to Nina, made Camp Willow so fabulous. The lush timber, the cabins, the lake, the long hikes, canoes, campfires, and friends. Plus the food had been pretty awesome from what Aubrey remembered, but she’d simply missed Mom too much to stay. She glanced at Max. Nina was right; he wouldn’t miss her. He’d be fine at Camp Willow.
“So listen, buddy, there are a couple of things we need to talk about.”
Max grunted but didn’t pull his gaze away from the screen of his phone.
She reached out her hand, anticipating the groan that came from Max’s mouth when he placed his phone into her palm. Except for the computer lab he could visit for half an hour each day, he wouldn’t have access to electronic devices while at Camp Willow. Snail mail and weekly phone calls with Mom, unless of course he asked the camp supervisor for a special call home.
She placed Max’s phone in the cup holder and turned off the frontage road onto a poorly maintained partially hardtop, partially gravel road. Nothing like waiting until the end of the trip to have an important conversation. Nina would tell her just how horrible a job Aubrey had done today because of her choice to put off talking to Max about his dad.
Her stomach twisted and her palms felt moist against the steering wheel. “I talked to Grandpa last night.”
Her eyes flicked from the road toward Max. He was truly half Travati, because his face didn’t flinch. He kept his gaze glued to the gravel road. He lifted his thumb to his mouth and bit a hangnail, the only giveaway that he was bothered or nervous about the topic.
“He mentioned that you had questions.”
Again no motion from Max. Only silence greeted her words. Wow, this was worse than the first time she’d discussed sex with Max, the mechanics of which he’d been fully aware of, having spent his entire childhood growing up on a farm.
“Max? Do you have questions?”
“He answered them.”
Aubrey squirmed and pulled at the seat belt strap. She deserved Max’s silent and sullen response, didn’t she? For the past decade, whenever Max had questions about his dad she’d told him as close to nothing as possible. Why now would he think she would start to answer his questions?
“Max.” Aubrey softened her voice and downshifted. The Jeep took a tight turn around Lake Willow. The pavement ended, and they bounced onto gravel. The entrance to the camp would come up soon on her left. “I want you to know that I’ll answer any questions you have about your—” She swallowed. She didn’t want to say the word to Max. To say it was to acknowledge it and give it power. “Your—”
“You can’t even say it.” Disgust tinged Max’s voice. He shook his head and his gaze landed on Aubrey.
Those damn Travati eyes.
“My father, my dad, the guy you’d be happy if I never met.”
“Max, that’s not true. I do want you to meet him, I do want—”
“Really? You’ve spent my entire life pretending he doesn’t exist. You won’t talk about him, you dodge my questions. His name isn’t even on my birth certificate.”
“You saw your birth certificate?”
“Mom, seriously, yes, I’ve seen my birth certificate.” He leaned forward and lifted his backpack onto his lap and unzipped the front flap.
“Max, it’s not that I don’t want you to meet your father. I just always wanted you to meet him at the right time, when you were older, more formed, more—”
“Why?”
Her heart kicked in her chest. How to answer that question? Honestly? Because he could easily take you away from me? Because he has a billion dollars and an army of lawyers, but I’m concerned he doesn’t have a soul? Because I don’t want you contaminated by the lifestyle he leads? No. No she wouldn’t say any of those things to her son with the confusion in his eyes and the hint of judgment edging his face.