“Is she living here with you and my kids?”

“Your kids?” Mitchell’s voice is full of disgust, and Beth turns away to look at him. “We aren’t yours.”

She plants her hands on her hips. “I gave birth to you, Mitchell, so as much as you might not like it, you’re still my kid.”

“Being a mom is more than giving birth to a child.” He shakes his head. “You’d get that if you ever stuck around for more than a few weeks at a time.”

“I have a career that keeps me on the road, Mitchell,” she says defensively.

“You’re a glorified bartender for washed up rock stars. You’re not working for the government trying to accomplish world peace,” he fires at her.

Shit, I know it’s wrong, but I still feel my lips twitch.

“I can’t believe—” She turns, pointing at me. “—you are allowing him to speak to me like this.”

“He has a right to tell you how he feels, Beth. And sometimes, the truth is a hard pill to swallow.”

“You’ve brainwashed him.” She glares at me then points at December. “You and her have turned him against me!”

“No they haven’t.” Max shoots up from the couch, and Sloth stands with him, barking once. “Dad wouldn’t do that, and neither would December.”

“Max.” She points at him. “You need to stay out of this.”

“Why?” he asks, moving to stand next to his brother. “Mitchell is right. You’re not around; you’re never around.”

“Are you going to tell me she has been? You don’t even know her.”

“This isn’t about December,” Mitchell states, crossing his arms over his chest and looking much older than he is. “This is about you and the fact that you have been out of our lives more than you’ve been in them.”

“I’m trying to change that. Why do you think I’m moving back to town? I want to work on my relationship with you boys.”

“I heard you,” Max whispers sadly, and my muscles seize from the pain I hear in his voice. “I heard you last night, when you thought I was sleeping. You said that you were leaving here soon and that you couldn’t wait to get back out on the road.”

“I….” She steps toward him, and he steps back. “You misheard me. I’m just leaving for a few weeks, and then I’ll be back.”

“I know,” he agrees. “You always come back. I also know you always leave again. It’s okay; I get it. It’s who you are.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she snaps, and I see his bottom lip start to tremble right before he turns and takes off down the hall to his room, slamming the door before Sloth can get in with him.

Fuck.

“Oh no,” December whispers, going to follow him, but Beth lunges to block her path. I move forward quick, but not quick enough. December spins around and places her hand in Beth’s chest, shoving her back. “Do not try to get between me and my boy,” she hisses, looking like a pissed off mama bear. “Get out of this house.” She looks at me. “She needs to leave.”

“You… You can’t tell me to leave!” Beth yells as December moves around her and heads down the hall toward Max’s room with Mitchell on her heels.

“You need to go,” I tell Beth, and as she turns on me and steps forward, placing her finger an inch from my face, I drop my eyes to it.

“This is bullshit. You know this is total bullshit.”

“It’s not, Beth, and if you actually paid attention during any of that conversation, you’d understand that all your kids ever wanted from you was time and attention. You can’t blame them for being pissed at you for not giving them that.”

“It’s your fault.”

“My fault.” I cross my arms over my chest. “How’s this my fault?”

“You’ve turned them against me.” She tosses her hands in the air. “You’ve made them hate me.”

“I’ve done nothing but make it easy for you to see them when you’ve felt like it, and I have never, not fucking once, made you jump through hoops to spend time with them. You can try to make this out like it’s my fault, but I’m not the bad guy, Beth. You’ve had years to build a relationship with your boys, but you didn’t, and that’s on you. Now you have to deal with the consequences.”

“I love them.”

“Then prove it.” I sigh.

“I shouldn’t have to prove anything.”

Completely over her manipulative bullshit, I walk to the door and hold it open for her, and she glares at me then the door before she stomps past me. The moment she steps outside, I call her name, and she turns to look at me over her shoulder. “You should know I will never force them to spend time with you, so if you want a relationship with them, you need to find a way to earn their trust and build one.”

“Whatever,” she mutters before storming away.

I don’t watch her go; I shut the door and lock it then head down the hall to Max’s room, knocking once before I turn the handle. I find him sitting on his bed with December beside him, her hand on his back. His brother sits on the floor at his feet, Sloth lying next to him. “You okay, bud?”

“Is Mom gone?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

He nods and drops his eyes to his lap. I look at Mitchell, and he gives me a shrug and a sad smile.

“You know your mom loves you,” I say.

He lifts his head and locks eyes with me. “You always say that, and she always says she loves me, but Mitchell was right. She never shows it. And you should show it if you love someone.”

Feeling like I’ve been kicked in the gut, I swallow then order, “Come here,” over the lump in my throat.

“Dad—”

“Please come here.” He gets up and walks toward me slowly, and once he’s close, I wrap my hand around the side of his neck and dip my chin so we’re face-to-face. “You’re right. You should show the people you love that you love them, but sometimes people don’t know how to do that, and your mom is one of those people.”

“You don’t have to make excuses for her,” he says quietly, and I rest my forehead against his. “I know how she is, and I love her, even if she isn’t good at being a mom. I just wish she were different sometimes.”

I close my eyes to hide the pain his words cause and whisper, “Max.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, not even a little bit.”

“It is, because I have you and Mitchell, December, Grandma, and Aunt Selma and Sejla, along with a whole bunch of other people who love me. I guess—” He licks his lips. “—I guess I just feel bad, because she doesn’t have that.”

“She could,” Mitchell inserts, and Max looks at him. “She could have a whole bunch of people who love her too, Max.”

He stares at his brother for a long time before whispering, “I guess you’re right.”

“Max,” I call again, and his eyes come back to me. “You can’t be responsible for her happiness. It’s not your job. Your job is to be a kid.”