by C. Kennedy
“Shit,” Michael said softly. “That really can’t happen.”
“I will look into the police files and attempt to determine the current status of the adoptive parents. I will ask Ariel to undergo a DNA test in order to be prepared for the court’s inquiry. We have Yosef’s DNA, and establishing parenthood, in absolute fact, shouldn’t be difficult.”
“What then?”
“I’m unsure the adoptive parents’ seeking to regain custody of Thimi is a good idea at this point. It’s been eight years, and there are no facilities in Greece to treat him. Further, I have had a firsthand opportunity to watch Dr. Jordanou and Christy with Thimi over the past four days. Caring for a boy like Thimi is a full-time job until he adjusts to his new surroundings. With that in mind, let us assume that the adoptive parents do not wish to take custody of him, shall we?”
“Okay. And?”
“This would require that Thimi be placed in the care of a state home—”
“Can’t hap—”
Nicos held a hand up silencing Michael. “To avoid this, Ariel would need to reassert her parental rights. If she is willing to do so, I believe the problem is solved. The courts have already accepted Wellington as the best place for Thimi, and it appreciates Christy taking responsibility for him. With Thimi’s natural mother here in the US, all the better.”
Michael’s nervous system began a stuttering slide into calm as he tried to put the pieces together in his mind.
Jake turned to Nicos. “Talk to my dad?”
Nicos nodded. “Selfishly, I’ll add that I don’t want to see Thimi removed from Wellington and would like him to have an opportunity to make the same progress Christy has.”
Michael blew a long breath. “What a mess.”
“It is complicated,” Nicos agreed. “But if we are careful to methodically document circumstances, the court should not change its order.”
Christy terminated the call.
“Everything okay?” Michael asked.
“It is interesting. It is not okay when I leave, but it is okay when Zero play the checkers with Thimi. Rob said Thimi does not eat or sleep or speak with Melos, and made the bathroom in the pants and the vomit, but he is good with Zero now.”
“Rock on, Zero!”
“This is the good news, but Thimi does not speak with Melos.”
“You didn’t talk to Rob when you first got there. Give him time.”
“This is the little bit true.”
“It’s totally true!”
Christy smiled. “It is.”
“Are you going to open the tin?”
“Oh, yes.”
Christy put it on his lap and struggled with it until it popped open, and photographs scattered and spilled to the floor of the car. Christy reached for one and studied it. Michael glanced at it and recognized it immediately. It was a picture of Christy and his mother. She was a stunning woman, and Christy bore her fair hair and beauty. In fact, Christy and Sophia so resembled her as to be carbon copies of her. Christy reached for another. It was also a picture of him and his mother. Christy picked up yet another, and an involuntary sob escaped him. He quickly tried to stifle it with a forearm against his mouth, to truncate the flow of overwhelming emotions, to no avail. Christy’s sobs burst forth, and Michael quickly put an arm around him and held him close as he collected the photographs from the seat and those that had fallen to the floor. He glanced through them. All of them were of Christy and Alexis. Unadulterated happiness radiated from them, the essence of unvarnished joy and innocence captured in still life. Christy had yet to be tainted by the horrors of abuse. His father and countless others had yet to thieve the immutable rights of childhood—safety, security, to grow and learn, to be loved. The unrecoverable larceny of Christy’s soul had not yet occurred.
Michael found himself fighting overwhelming grief. Christy could have been so very different. He could have been unscathed rather than left to piece together the fragments of his self-worth. He could have been unhurt, safe, whole. Christy could have lived rather than survived.
Sadness for Christy permeated every fiber of Michael’s being, and he held Christy closer and kissed the top of his head. Nothing—nothing—would stop Michael from doing whatever he could to restore every facet of Christy’s very ipseity. “These are great,” he said softly.
Christy looked up at him with a tearstained face. “I have something of my mother.”
Michael smiled. “Never doubt how much she loved you.”
Christy nodded and sat straight. “I did not remember the places, the pictures, until now.”
“Do they help with the blank spaces?”
“Yes!”
Christy went through the pictures and explained what he could remember of each one. He finally fell asleep with his head in Michael’s lap, holding a fistful of pictures.
THEY ARRIVED at Wellington just after 9:00 p.m. Everyone had fallen asleep in the back of the limousine, including Nicos, but woke when the car came to a stop.
“You’re home, babe,” Michael said through a yawn.
“It is the long trip.” Christy sat up and put the pictures back in the tin.
“Appreciate Sophia. She makes it every weekend,” Jake said as he stretched.
“This is true.”
Michael looked around the seat and floor. “Do you have all the pictures?”
Christy nodded. “I will look again when we are out of the car.”
Tad opened the door, and Michael climbed out first.
“Here you go, Michael.”
Michael gaped at the clear plastic bag of Gummy Bears. “What the—?”
“You were asleep, so I stopped by Costco.”
“Five pounds? He’ll be eating them for a year.”
“This is too many candy,” Christy said as he got out of the car.
“Right? Holy crap, Tad.”
Jake cracked up when he saw the bag. “Dr. Jordanou is going to hate you.”
“Seriously,” Michael agreed.
The porch light shed its bright glow as Rob stepped out the front door. “Welcome home.”
Christy began to stretch and stilled, his hand to his side. “Thank you, Rob. It is the very long drive for one day. How is Thimi?”
Rob gestured to the porch swing. There sat Thimi at the edge of the pooling light, alone, forlorn, and waiting for Christy.
Christy stopped short. “Why are you not asleep?”
“He wouldn’t go to bed until you came home.”
Christy switched to speaking in Greek, and Thimi looked as if he would burst into tears. Christy switched back to English and held up the Gummy Bears. “Ah, no. I am home. Look.”
Thimi’s eyes went wide.
“It is enough bears for the year. Come.”
Thimi didn’t move.
“Come, come. They are for you.” Thimi stood as Christy climbed the steps. “Take them. They are for you.”
Michael set the bag in Thimi’s arms. “Don’t eat them all at once.”
A smile played on Thimi’s lips, nearly coming to fruition, and he looked at Michael. “Th-thank you.”
Score! Thimi spoke to me! Michael smiled. “Save some for a new carousel.”
Thimi nodded.
“Michael, you will call tomorrow?” Christy asked.
Myriad emotions bled through Michael. Though he hadn’t consciously thought it, he’d somehow expected to stay the night with Christy. “Ah, yeah, babe. I’ll give you a call after practice.”
“Thank you.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
Christy saw the concern in Michael’s eyes, went to him, and hugged him carefully. “Thank you.”
It didn’t escape Michael’s notice that Christy’s ribs hurt. “You did great today.”
Christy smiled up at him. “This would not be possible without you.”
“Sure it would. You’re getting stronger every day.”
“Okay. You will call after the practice? And you will come for t
he barbecue on Sunday?”
Sunday? I have to wait until Sunday to see you again? “Ah, yeah.”
“S’agapó, moro mou.”
“Love you too, babe.”
He watched as Christy took Thimi by the hand and led him into the ranch house.
“How’d he do?” Rob asked.
“Fantastic. A totally emotional day, but he handled it. Sophia was great too. It could have gone all kinds of wrong, but Ariel didn’t hold back. Once it flowed, it flowed, and I think they appreciated her for it.”
“I agree,” Jake said. “It was a win.”
“Mmm, true,” Nicos agreed.
“Did he take the medication I sent along?”
Michael shook his head as he dug in his pocket and retrieved it. “He didn’t need it. He lost his temper over the Sannas, but it was short, and he brought it in check and totally took charge.”
Rob took the baggie from him. “That’s great to hear.”
“I’ll fill you in on the details,” Nicos said.
“Thanks, General,” Michael said as they shook hands. “Keep us posted?”
“Nero will know what occurs in Greece.”
“Thank you.”
With a wave, Michael and Jake climbed back into the car.
“TIRED?” JAKE asked Michael as they rode home.
“‘Tired’ doesn’t describe it.”
Jake shook his head. “Hell of a mess.”
“Seriously, bro. I’m not sure I can take any more. It’s worse than a soap opera. The Bold and the Unbelievable.”
Jake grinned and played along. “Days of our Ludicrous Lives.”
Michael half laughed. “As My Stomach Turns.”
Jake snorted. “General Horrible.”
Michael laughed outright. “The Young and the Ridiculous.”
Jake cracked up. “Weathering the Freakin’ Heights.”
Suddenly it wasn’t funny. At all. “I’m not sure I can take any more, and I can only imagine how Christy feels.”
Jake moved across the car to sit next to Michael, one-arm hugged him, and kissed the side of his head. “We’ll get through it. It’s what we do.”
Tad pulled into the gated cobblestone drive, and they were shocked to see the cars gone and no damage to the portico.
“Your dad’s on it,” Michael said in amazement.
“I’m sure Mom took care of it. As much as she complains that the estate is a monument to Dad, she loves it and can’t stand it if anything is out of place. She probably had the maintenance guys working from sunup to sundown.”
“Wonder what my house looks like.”
“I’m sure your dad was all over it.”
“Do me a solid?”
“Name it.”
“Go over there with me after practice. I need to see what’s left of my room.”
Jake nodded. “Done. Let’s get some sleep.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“WOO-HOO!” Michael shouted as he and Jake crossed the finish line at practice on Thursday.
“Your times are great!” Coach O’Malley shouted.
“We’re feelin’ it!” Michael shouted.
Coach clasped Jake’s shoulder with one hand and Michael’s with the other. “You’re going to shine!”
“Couldn’t do it without you, Coach!” Jake shouted.
Coach slapped his hand in a high five, and Michael followed.
“Let’s go back to starts again tomorrow,” Coach O’Malley said as he made notes on his clipboard. “I want to check your knee, Michael.”
“I want to work on my steps and timing too.”
“All right, all right. We’ll manage to get it all in.” He scribbled on his clipboard again. “How are you doing after the other night?”
“Saw it on the news?” Jake asked.
“Couldn’t miss it.”
Michael blew a long breath as he grabbed a towel, tossed it to Jake, and pulled a bottle of water from the bag. “Sucks.”
Coach O’Malley gestured surreptitiously toward the parking lot. “They have anything to do with it?”
Jake and Michael turned. “Dammit!” Michael yelled.
“What’s up?”
Jake kicked at the track. “It looks like Rich is hanging out with the guys who sold Jason the bomb for Michael’s car.”
Michael poured water over his head. “Got Jake’s car and one of the security vehicles too.”
Incredulity filled Coach O’Malley’s face. “Maybe we should use the indoor track at Wilson College.”
Michael swigged the last of the water in the bottle. “Might be a good idea. My mom’s close to losing it, and I don’t want the parents saying we can’t practice.”
Coach nodded. “I’ll look into it and give you a call this evening.”
Jake kicked at the track again. “Thanks, Coach. Appreciate that.”
“What do the police say?”
“They can’t prove anything yet.”
Coach O’Malley shook his head in dismay. “Sorry, boys.”
“Hey, Coach?”
Coach O’Malley met Michael’s eyes.
“These are the only running clothes I have after the fire. Any chance you have a jersey left over from the year?”
“I’ll let you know when I call tonight.”
“Thanks.”
“How are you boys getting home?”
“Security. Neither one of us has a car,” Jake said as he stuffed the towel into the bag.
“What happened to Michael’s car?”
“It was in the garage when the house went up.”
Now Coach shook his head in disgust.
“How do you want to do this, bro?” Jake asked Michael.
“What?”
“Get to the damn car.”
“Screw ’em. Let’s walk straight to the car.”
Coach O’Malley packed the clipboard and stopwatch in his small gear bag. “I’ll walk with you.”
Michael shook his head. “Don’t want you involved in this.”
“What did you just say? Screw ’em?”
Michael grinned. “Where are you parked?”
“Same lot.”
Jake pulled the cell phone from the hidden pocket in his shorts.
“Who are you calling?” Michael asked.
“Tad…. Yeah, hey, Tad. Where are you parked…?” Jake chuckled. “Yeah…? Okay, we’ll see you in a minute.” He terminated the call. “He’s parked right next to the motorcycles, and the police are on the way.”
Michael cracked up. “Let’s do it!”
A police car pulled into the lot as they strolled across the field. They continued to the waiting security vehicle, and that was when Michael spotted the jacket. “Jake.”
Jake looked at Michael.
“The jacket.”
Jake frowned and turned back to the bikers. “He does not have the balls to be here.”
“I’m going to check it out.”
Michael set out directly for the rider, and Jake caught his arm. “Don’t.”
Michael pulled his arm free. “I want to know.”
“Don’t do it,” Jake warned.
“I’m doin’ it.” Michael jogged directly up to the rider and tried to flip the face shield up.
The rider smacked his hand away, lifted the shield, and spat at Michael. Sure enough, it was Rich. The face shields of the other riders moved up in unison like the coordinated opening of an insect’s compound eye.
Anger came to life in Michael, and he went to push Rich off the bike. “Don’t you fucking spit at me.”
Jake caught his arm. “Step away.” He turned to Rich. “What are you doing here, man?”
“What’s it look like I’m doing?”
“Why are you hassling us?”
The laugh that emanated from Rich sounded malevolent, downright evil. “Returning the favor, man.”
Michael tucked his chin in disbelief. “What in hell are you talking about?”
“You fuck up my
life, I fuck up yours.”
Anger filled Jake’s face. “We haven’t done shit to you.”
Rich cocked a grin. “Like you don’t know.” He turned back to the bikers. “Rich kids. Dumber than shit.” The bikers laughed, and Rich started his bike and revved the engine. Without another word he drove from the parking lot. The other bikers followed and, if looks could kill, Michael and Jake would have died a thousand times over.
“What’s he talking about?” Michael asked in exasperation.
“No idea.”
“Thanks, Coach,” Michael said absently as they walked away.
“Watch your backs, boys.”
Michael and Jake headed to the security vehicle to find not only Tad and John, their regular security guards there, but two additional guards.
“Everything okay?” Tad asked.
“No,” Michael said. “Rich thinks we fucked up his life, and it’s all about payback.”
“Did he say what you did to ruin his life?”
“No.”
“I’ll notify Mr. Santini.”
“Let’s run by my house,” Michael said.
“Your mom’s there now. Why don’t you give her a call?”
As Michael withdrew his phone to make the call, Jake dug the phone from his bag and dialed. “You calling my mom?”
Jake shook his head. “Jake Santini for Detective Davis. I’ll hold.”
“I know you think I’m oblivious, Jake, but I don’t think we did anything to Rich.”
“You’re not being oblivious this time. Rich has something stuck up his ass—Yeah, hi, Detective. We just had an encounter with Rich.”
“So I heard. Our field car reported in.”
“Then I guess you know what happened.”
“Was it Rich in the jacket?”
“Yes, and he thinks we f—screwed up his life, and we’re supposed to know how we did that. To quote him, he’s ‘returning the favor.’ We don’t know what he’s talking about.”
“Not helpful. I was able to learn that he did not graduate high school. He was held back a year.”
“But he has a class ring?”
“The ring was purchased at the beginning of the school year.”
“Did Tony graduate?”