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It was a day before thanksgiving and since Jos had been in a decent mood almost all week Max had decided that he would attempt to make a real thanksgiving dinner for him, it would be the first one they've had since his mom and Vic left. He thought it was a great idea and that maybe Jos would hug him because he was cooking. That's a thing a big boy would do and Jos is always saying he’s a big boy now and can’t be childish.
Max goes through the whole kitchen looking for stuff he could use, he doesn't come up with much, some weird looking potatoes, chicken breast’s, package gravy and 2 carrots, not a lot but Max is determined to make it work, to make his father proud.
He gets three pots out and fills two of them with water about halfway up, then gets to peeling and cutting the potatoes and carrots, taking his time to make sure he doesn’t cut his finger or leave any peeling on the vegetables, he scoops the diced veggies up and puts them in their selective pots on the stove and turns the burners on medium. Next he takes the chicken out of its package and puts it in a casserole dish and into the oven, saving the easiest thing for last the gravy he simply follows the directions on the back adding 1 cup of water and the gravy powder into the third pot and putting it on the stove with the others.
Max drags a chair over to keep his eyes on the stove not wanting anything to burn or boil over, occasionally stirring the potatoes and carrots turning their burners off when he can stab them with a fork, and checks the chicken with a meat thermometer when it's verified that its cooked he takes it out and put the food on the two plates he had set out, pouring the gravy on the potatoes and meat. Now all he has to do is wait for his father to get home.
Only three minutes later he hears the door open, he rushes to the fridge to get a beer out and sets it on the table for his father. The second Jos gets to the kitchen he scowls not the expression Max was expecting, especially since he’s showing how grown up he is.
“I didn’t know I had a daughter here Max,” Jos comments, but he pulls his chair out harshly making it scrape loudly against the tile floor and sits down at the table nonetheless.
Max tilts his head down, “I thought it might be nice,” he mumbles just loud enough to be heard.
Jos rolls his eyes at that, grumbling under his breath as he starts cutting and eating off of his plate.
Max stays quiet and sits at the table, peeking at Jos through his bangs while he himself picks at his potatoes, his feet nervously swinging under the table waiting for his father to make a comment about the food like ‘these potatoes are nice’ or ‘you did good Max’ they eat in silence for a little longer before Jos decides to make a comment on the food.
Jos stands up from the table and grabs the collar of Max's shirt pulling him off his chair and making him stand on the tips of his toes, “You call this a fucking meal? Its bland as hell! The gravy is barely fucking edible, it’s so runny it could be water!” he growls right in Max's face, pushing him up against the wall.
“I just followed the instructions on the packet,” Max whimpers, pushing his back against the wall as if he's trying to disappear in it.
Jos walks away from him and back to the table, “Well obviously you didn’t you little bitch. Maybe you need another taste of it,” he picks up his plate and throws it at Max just barely missing him, it hits the wall next to Max’s head shattering, some small pieces embedding themselves in his cheek.
Max stands there trying to hold his tears in and stop his body from shaking; the gravy slowly making its way to the floor. Jos looks outraged by the mess, both of the wall and Max’s face.
“Look what you made me do,” he grabs Max again, “You ungrateful brat, do you know how much I do for you? Then you go and think you can make a meal and you fuck it up, make a waste of food that I bought!” he drags Max into the kitchen, “You’re a fuckup of a son how retarded can you get?” he shoves Max forward right into the stove.
Max stumbles over his own feet, falling fast into the stove he reaches out to catch himself before he hits it, his hands hit the top, one of them right on a still hot burner.
“Fuck!” He screeches out, tears flowing freely now. He turns around and slides to the floor, clutching his hand in pain, he looks up and through his tears he sees that his father is still there but now he’s drinking a beer.
Jos scoffs “You really are pathetic Max, a retard and a crybaby? Stop being so dramatic” he turns around and walks away.
Distantly Max hears the television get turned on. Grunting he manages to get up and make it to the freezer to get some ice, the second it hits his hand he’s hissing at the pain. He walks back to the dining room looking at the mess as he passes through, he quietly walks past the living room doorway and up the stairs to get to his room, closing the door behind him he crawls onto his bed and starts sobbing, “I miss you mama, I miss you Vic.” And eventually falls asleep.