I didn’t make the connection until I started dating a few girls who were just like her.” He turned to Marco. “What do you remember about her?”
Marco cast me a sidelong glance and cringed. “I’ll admit that her looks were…distracting, but I never spent any time around her. Wyatt didn’t hang out with us much, and Max’s interactions with her were all from family dinners and hanging out at their house.”
“You didn’t see her when you were over?” I asked.
Marco and Max were both silent for a moment. Then Max said, “Marco wasn’t over much. I tended to go to his house.”
“Was that your choice or your father’s?” I asked.
Max’s face reddened.
“It’s okay, Max,” Marco said. “I always knew your father didn’t care for me.”
“Why?” I asked.
“We were a lot poorer than most of the families in town,” Marco said. “My father was a dreamer, always working on some cockamamie project or another that he was sure was going to be a huge success. The gadget to finally make us rich. Bart Drummond considered him a joke and a blight on the town. I was guilty by association.”
Max looked embarrassed. “By middle school, my father decided I needed a new friend group, so Marco and I would hang out at the ball fields or his house, which was a few blocks away. Other kids hung out there, so it was a good cover. I’m sure my mother knew what we were doin’, and my father was pleased as punch that I was takin’ up an all-American sport and was hopefully becoming more like my brother. So I joined the team and my father came to one game. I sat on the bench for most of it and struck out once. On the drive home, he told me to let him know when I was actually worth watchin’.”
“Max.” My heart broke for him.
He shrugged. “Life with dear old Dad.”
I found myself thinking again of what Emily had said, about his family obligations. Why had he felt any if his father had treated him so poorly? Had he gone home just for Emily?
“In any case,” he said, sounding weary, “he stopped paying attention to me after that, and I’d just hang out at Marco’s house. Mom knew, of course—she loved Marco—but it was our secret from Dad. Long story short, that’s why Marco wasn’t over much.”
But I had to wonder if it was really a secret. Hadn’t Marco himself told me they’d never once pulled the wool over Bart’s eyes? Were there many secrets in Drum he didn’t know?
I had a million more questions for them both, but none pertained to Heather. Molly and Ginger would be here soon, which meant I needed to stay on topic. “Did you come home from college while Wyatt and Heather were back together?”
Max was silent for a moment. “I came home for Christmas and summer. Wyatt and Heather weren’t around much, and I spent a lot of time working on the land with Carson, but she was around some. Mom and Dad couldn’t stand her, and it was obvious to everyone except my brother that she wasn’t with Wyatt for love.”
“How could you tell?” I asked.
Max was silent for a moment. “She wasn’t very affectionate. You know how you can tell when a couple is really into each other? I never got that vibe from either of them. Wyatt seemed to be in it because…maybe he didn’t see a better option? She was a habit? She was with us when we opened presents on the last Christmas Day she was in town, and when she realized there was no ring-sized box in her present pile, she looked furious. She claimed she had a migraine and made Wyatt drive her home before Christmas lunch. As you can imagine, Dad was furious. Mom disapproved, but in her typical private way. Of course, Heather convinced Wyatt to propose shortly after. And then it all snowballed from there.”
“You knew they were engaged?” I asked.
“Mom told me. As far as I know, not many people knew, and the information didn’t spread like wildfire.”
Part of me was dying to ask Max how his mother had convinced him to come home, but I suspected that was a surefire way to shut down our conversation. “When you came back to run the tavern, did Heather ever show up?”
“Not at all in the beginning, but then she came in a few times with a group of friends. One time she was drunk off her