one of the tree’s thick boughs. The golden lights on the tree reflected off his glasses. He wandered to the fire, adding another log, then peered at the photos that covered the wall.
Noticing Max watching, he asked, “Is this your mom?”
“Yeah.” His throat was suddenly tight, but Max forced an even tone as he joined Jeremy and pointed to the four pictures in the big frame. “Her and my dad’s wedding. She always wanted a Princess Diana dress with poufy sleeves, even though it was out of style by then. Her law school graduation. With me as a hairy baby. The three of us on vacation in Goa at the beach. I have a vague memory of her in that red bathing suit helping me build a sandcastle.”
“She was beautiful.”
“Thanks.” His laugh was strained. “I don’t know why I said that. Not like I had anything to do with it.”
Jeremy smiled and gazed at the other framed photos of the family—Valerie, Dad, Meg, Mamy and Papy, Max, and various aunts and uncles and cousins. Grinning, Jeremy pointed to the grade nine uniformed school photo of Max with zits and his hair slicked down with half a bottle of gel.
“I never imagined you having an awkward phase.”
“Glad to hear it, but clearly inaccurate, as you can see.”
Jeremy laughed, and Max would happily bust out his embarrassing yearbooks if it would cheer up Jeremy, who slowly walked the wall, eyes roving over the photos. Max found himself stuck at the pics of his mom, the ache familiar. Dependable. Her smile had been a little crooked, and she squinted into the sun in the beach photo.
“I know all these pics so well. Like, if I close my eyes, I can see the images of her in my mind as if I’m looking right at them. But I don’t remember the real her. Not really.”
Jeremy took Max’s hand. “You were young, right?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat as he stared at the beach photo. “I’ve lived more of my life without her. Thirteen years.”
“It doesn’t seem fair.”
“Nope.” He squeezed Jeremy’s hand. “But life isn’t always fair. Especially when it comes to family.”
“True. But I shouldn’t complain. Compared to what you went through—”
“No comparing. You get to be upset. Okay?”
Jeremy nodded. His gaze wandered the wall. “Is that your mom at court?”
“Yeah, her first case at the Superior Court of Justice wearing the robes.” Max gazed at the photo: Mom with her wavy hair pulled back into a bun, the traditional black waistcoat and long black robe a bit too big for her, the white collar and tabs around her neck. She should have looked utterly serious, but in the picture, she had her hands on her hips and a grin lighting up her face. “Her friend took it in the bathroom before she went into the courtroom.”
“How do you feel looking at it now knowing that might never be you?”
Max stared at his mom’s cocky grin. “Pretty good, actually. I think she’d tell me to get over myself already.” He laughed, and it really did feel good. But when he looked back to Jeremy beside him, his smile vanished.
Rigid, Jeremy stared at his phone. “My dad texted,” he croaked. Hands trembling, he unlocked the phone and read the message.
Please be decent humans, Max begged the Rourkes in his head. Please see how incredible your son is. Please don’t have waited until Christmas Eve to crush him even more.
Jeremy cleared his throat and read aloud, “Hello, son. Honolulu was too crowded for our tastes. We have really enjoyed Maui. Sean sends his love. We all do. Max looks like a nice young man. We look forward to meeting him some time. Merry Christmas.”
Exhaling the breath he’d been holding, Max asked, “How do you feel?”
Jeremy blinked back tears. “Good, I think? Better, at least.”
“C’mere.” Max hugged him tightly, and Jeremy pressed his face into Max’s chest, his sob muffled.
The stairs creaked, and Valerie called, “Are you two still up? Santa will—” Wearing matching pajamas decorated with reindeer, she skidded to a halt in the living room, her slippers making a whooshing sound. Her ponytail swayed. “My goodness. Is everything all right?”
Jeremy swiped at his face and nodded, slipping out of Max’s arms. “Uh-huh! It is. Sorry.”
Valerie gave him a kind smile. “Don’t be, hon.”
“I’m just going to—” Jeremy motioned to the stairs. “I’ll be back.”
“Take your time,” Max said, giving him smile.
Valerie watched him go, then whispered, “I hope his parents are still being ‘civil.’ Oh, I’d