by London Casey
An hour later I stood at the table and watched Beth down her tenth shot of straight whiskey. When she grabbed for the bottle, Big Mike took her by the wrist.
“Let me call someone,” he said. “To spend the night with you. You can’t sit here and drink yourself to death.”
“It was always me and him,” she said. “Me and him. Charlie and Beth. Riding our bikes through town. Asking for change to buy something to eat. We were close. We were sort of each other’s parents. And then we started using. Nothing else mattered but finding that high. At first, it was so good. Another adventure. Then it began to spiral.” Beth looked right at Big Mike. “I got out, Mike. I couldn’t get him. So, the bottle is my friend.”
Big Mike let Beth’s wrist go and then looked at me and motioned for the kitchen.
There, Big Mike put a hand to my shoulder. “I’m going to stay here. You should get home. Your boy needs you.”
“How did…”
“You phone went off and you had that look. I know that look, Aiden. That boy means a lot to you. You shouldn’t run from him or his problems. Or anything that surrounds him. No matter how hard it is between you and Alice, it’s up to you both to take care of that boy.”
“I got ya, Big Mike,” I said.
“You got that chip. Remember that chip. Remember Charlie. Remember Beth here. It’s going to be a long fucking night.”
“You need me to get you something?” I asked.
“Nah. I’ll call Pete over at the restaurant. He’ll bring us some food and coffee.”
Big Mike hugged me, cracking my back, and sent me on my way.
I left, got into my car, and sent a text to Alice that I was coming home.
I took a deep breath.
The situation – a year later - was still strange to me.
Being with my brother’s wife.
She rolled her cigarette in the ashtray as she sat on the porch. A can of beer was next to her. I knew better than to say a word to her about her issues. I couldn’t help her with her depression. With her drinking. With her smoking. With her other habits. She would simply look me dead in the eyes and say one word that would cut me down to nothing.
Junkie.
I was forever lower on the shit pile than she was, and I had to deal with it.
I walked up the steps and sat next to her. She took a drag and looked at me.
Her eyes were crystal blue, her hair super dark. She was a hell of a catch, and she would have been if she just even pretended to care about herself.
“What happened?” I asked.
“You didn’t come home when I texted you.”
“Charlie died. OD.”
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry.”
I reached for her hand. I touched it for a moment. “I should have come home first. You and Felix are more important. Where is he?”
I took my hand away.
It wasn’t like it was before. That was probably a good thing, though. Whatever fire that had sparked between us was definitely best left dead. She still wore her wedding and engagement rings from Gabe. That was strange to me, but I couldn’t bring it up. After all, I was the guy who took his brother’s wife to bed. More than once.
“He’s upstairs,” Alice said. “Playing with his trucks. What I don’t get is that he can make noises. Perfect truck noises, Aiden. The engine, the brakes, the squeal of the tires. Fire engines. Cop siren. All of it. But you ask him to say the fucking word cat and he freezes up like you’re speaking another language.”
I lowered my head and ran my hand through my hair. “I know.”
“You don’t know. Therapy isn’t working. Today he got so mad he flipped a table over.”
“What?”
“Yeah. So now they want to consider anger issues. As if the poor kid doesn’t have enough going on…”
“Anger? Of course he’s angry. He can’t fucking talk.”
Then there was silence.
Silence…
The random chirp of a cricket. The faint sound of a car engine.
I hated the silence between me and Alice.
I reached for her hand - only to comfort her, even though that’s what I said when it all started - and she quickly stood up.
“I’m going to get him tucked in.”
“I’ll do it,” I said. “You had a long day, I’m sure. Go take a bath or something. Find a chick flick to rest your mind with.”
I stood and towered over her.
Slowly, Alice put her hand to my face. “I think they think we’re unfit. Because of the circumstances. I don’t know what else I can do here. I keep thinking in my mind, what did I do wrong? I didn’t touch a drop of booze when I was pregnant. I didn’t smoke. I didn’t eat fish or lunchmeat. Or any of that other shit they tell you. So why did he come at twenty-five weeks? Huh? Why did he have to have developmental issues… and why now… unable to talk? He’s… he’s four years old. And he can’t even say mama.”
I felt like someone jammed a screwdriver into my chest.
“I know, Alice. I know. We went through it all together, though. We were told what would happen when he came that early. It was a miracle he survived. He’ll come around.”
“I just wish I could figure something out.”
“Go relax,” I whispered.
Alice went inside. I felt my phone buzz. It was a text from Big Mike, checking on me.
For some reason, that was the moment the date hit me. I saw it on my screen.
Lily’s birthday.
Every year it always hits me and hurts me.
It had been five years since we last fell apart. Right when everything happened with Gabe and my life leading to Alice.
But beyond that… an idea came to me.
Lily had been born premature, too. Her mother hadn’t taken care of herself at all and was forced to give birth really early. And Lily grew up with a ton of issues. But she came through it all. She ended up just fine. Smart. Beautiful. Hardworking. Capable.
Everything I wanted for Felix.
No, better than that.
Everything that Felix deserved.
He didn’t ask for the life he was dealt. Not that it was a bad life. Shit, Alice and I both worked hard to keep things as normal as they could appear for him. He had more in his four years of life than I had my entire life.
But material garbage didn’t make up for emotional needs. Didn’t make up for what happened to him or how he came into the world.
Inside the house, I went for the stairs. At the bathroom, I paused, listening to the water running. I was happy Alice was taking a bath.
I kept going, down to Felix’s room.
I knocked, as though he would tell me to screw off.
I opened the door and found Felix on the floor with all his cars in a circle around him. He was damn smart. He knew his colors, numbers, knew how to write. He was all there, just not talking.
I crouched in front of him and rubbed his mop-top hair. “Hey, buddy. How was your day?”
He just stared.
“Was it good?”
He nodded.
The only way to get an answer out of Felix was to ask a question that he had to answer yes or no with.
“Can I play?” I asked.
Felix nodded.
I grabbed a firetruck and made an engine sound. Felix quickly shook his head no at me.
“What?”
Felix pointed to the firetruck. Then he made a siren sound that sounded like a firetruck. A kid’s version, of course.
“Oh, right,” I said. “Whew, whew, whew…”
Face it, my impressions sucked.
Felix grinned.
I let the firetruck go and pounced at him. I tickled his sides. He jumped back, smiling, letting out sounds that were pretty close to laughter. I felt his ribs and his body jerking left to right as he kept making his little laughing sounds.
Shit, I just wanted to him to scream stop! at me. Or grab my hands and say something. Anything.
I finally
let him go as his face turned red from laughter. I’d messed up the order of his cars and trucks but that was well worth it. I lifted him up and sat him on the bed next to me. Felix put his head on my arm.
“Hey. Mom said you got angry today.”
He nodded.
“I don’t like that, buddy. I know learning some of this stuff is hard. But you’re getting there. I know it. You’re going to talk soon.”
Felix shook his head.
“Hey, don’t be upset about it. You can’t let bad thoughts in.”
He kept shaking his head.
I slid off the bed and turned so I could face him.
My…
“Felix, listen to me. You’re going to talk. You’re going to be saying Mom, Dad, truck, car, pizza… I know it. You just have to listen to what they tell you.”
Felix shook his head again.
“Why?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
“Right. You can’t answer. So, you don’t like them, do you?”
He shook his head.
“I understand. You want a different way to try this?”
Felix nodded.
“Someone outside of school and doctors?”
Another big nod.
Lily…
“What if someone I knew could help you?”
Felix smiled big.
“Good. Tell you what…”
I wanted to pretend that I didn’t know where Lily lived. But I’d looked her up six months ago. I was drunk and lonely. Alice wasn’t home. Felix was sleeping. I had the horrible urge to use again. The demons were trying to get at me and tracking down Lily became my distraction.
And her address clung to my memory.
“Let’s go for a ride,” I said. “Bring some toys to play with in the car.”
Felix popped off the bed, smiling ear to ear. He loved road trips. I think it was his hope to go somewhere new, find something new, and suddenly start talking.
Five minutes later, we were in my car.
I looked in the mirror at Felix.
I loved him. No matter what.
I loved him the way I loved Lily.
And entering her life again… was probably the biggest risk I ever took.
Chapter 15
(A Small Coffee, A Small Kid)
PRESENT DAY
(LILY)
I opened the door to the coffee shop and looked around. I half expected to find Aiden already there, holding a cup of coffee, staring off into space, looking ridiculously sexy. But there was no sign of Aiden. To his credit, I was still early.
My morning began with a text message from Aiden, telling me to meet him around ten. Not asking, telling. And me being me, I hurried to text back that I would meet him. Luckily, whatever stomach thing I had was already gone. I was able to eat a real breakfast, drink some coffee, and take a much-needed hot shower, all without feeling like a pissed-off porcupine was trying to climb from my belly to my mouth.
I had the morning and early afternoon to kill since my shift at the diner was for the dinner hours. I’d get there between three and four and work until closing and then some.
I went to the counter and ordered a coffee.
I took a seat and waited.
Waiting was an enemy of mine.
Being alone. The calmness of the coffee shop. Everyone there with their faces inches from screens. Laptops, tablets, phones, earbuds in, doing whatever. People in suits, people in beat-up flannels and long hair pulled back into man buns. Funny thing was, you could never tell who was more successful by just their look.
It made me think about my dream of a bakery again. I had come close to it before but it just fizzled out on me. That was just how life went sometimes. Rise, fall, rise, fall. And sometimes you just have to stay down for a little while and let shit figure itself out.
When the door opened and I saw Aiden coming through, I had the sudden urge to stand. And then I was torn between running… away or right at him.
He looked around, locked eyes with me, and everything rushed right back.
That scruff on his face. That jaw that looked crafted from the finest of stone. His eyes like beautiful, pristine, dark marbles. His hair a little longer than five years ago, still messy with that just got out of bed look that he pulled off so flawlessly. A leather jacket and black shirt under it just made it seem so unfair that a man could age the way Aiden did. Not a blemish. Not a flaw. If anything, time had slid her sweet hands over him and perfected him even more.
He strolled to the counter, ordered a coffee, and waited for it.
When he got to the table, he took off the leather jacket, showing off a set of arms that filled the short sleeves of his shirt. There were also tattoos. His left arm with tattoos down to his elbow. On his right arm, from his elbow down to his wrist. I guess those would be called half sleeves? They fit him, though. I always saw Aiden as some kind of artist, well beyond the guy who could write songs and play guitar.
“Morning,” he said, his voice a little rough.
So sexy.
“Morning,” I said.
“You’re feeling better?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Sorry you were sick on your birthday.”
“It happens. Could have been worse. Could have been better.”
Aiden sat down and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a little box that was wrapped up. “Here. I got you something for your birthday.”
He slid it across the table.
I looked at him. “You never get me anything for my birthday.”
“Let’s consider this trying to change things. Old habits.”
I touched the box. “What is it?”
“A present. You have to open it.” He grinned.
I felt uncomfortable.
I slid my finger into the fold of the wrapping paper and ripped it. I slid the box out without damaging the paper.
“Wow,” Aiden said. “Remember when you were a kid and you would just tear that shit up? Now you try to be so delicate with the paper.”
I forced a smile.
I took out a small box and pulled the lid off.
I feared it was a piece of jewelry. I wouldn’t know how to react. But it wasn’t jewelry in the jewelry box.
It was a guitar pick. And a key.
“Aiden…”
“I was going through some old shit,” he said. “Found those two. That’s a guitar pick from one of my first shows. You were there. Front row. Remember when I tried to throw you a pick and someone snatched it out of the air? I kept the next one but never gave it to you. And the key? That was to my place. Where…”
Aiden raised an eyebrow.
His apartment. When I was eighteen. When I agreed to give myself to him what I had never given to anyone else before. My first time.
“This is really thoughtful,” I said.
“I hope I don’t offend your boyfriend or husband,” Aiden said with a sly grin.
“I’m single,” I admitted, knowing if I didn’t, he’d keep throwing hints around until I did.
Aiden just grinned.
“So, are you going to get right into it? Or should I?”
“Into what?” he asked, playfully.
“Aiden… you showed up at my door five years since your brother-”
“I know,” he said. “And I’m just processing it all in my mind here. On what I need to do and how I need to say it. I have to stay on point. This is about Felix.”
“The boy with you,” I said. Your kid. I want to hear you say it, Aiden. That he’s your son. That you had a baby with another woman.
“Yes. That’s Felix. That’s my… I have to say something to you. It’s kind of personal. I hope you don’t get pissed.”
“I can’t promise anything,” I said.
He was going to tell me Felix was his son.
“It’s about Felix.”
“I figured,” I said. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again, Aiden. And then…”
“Lily
, listen to me. There’s something wrong with Felix.”
“What?”
“He was born premature. Really early. Twenty-five weeks.”
“Oh… wow…”
“He’s fought so hard since birth, Lily. I worked hard with him on everything. He’s smart. He’s quick. He’s great at everything he does. He just can’t talk, Lily. That’s the thing. He can’t talk. Therapists have tried working with him. I think he’s just mad at the world. This is his way of saying fuck you to everyone. I can’t blame the kid for it. All things considered.”
All things considered? What did that mean?
“So, what are you asking me?” I asked.
“You were born premature, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “That’s why you came to see me?”
“Shit. Lily. I thought if Felix could meet someone who was born like him… he’d open up or something. Or you could talk to him. Or tell me something to try. They said sign language can help but he refuses to learn anything. I thought if you showed him some things he would pick them up and see that he could learn how to talk. He could be completely normal.”
I saw pain in Aiden’s eyes. I saw worry. I saw care. It was like the man I loved for all those years had become an even better man. That’s what happens sometimes when life serves you a dish of tragedy.
And trust me, Aiden had that.
Hell, we all did.
“Okay,” I said. “Wow. That’s a lot to take in.”
“Do you still know sign language?”
“Yes.”
“I knew it,” he said. “I remembered you always doing it in high school and shit. Helping kids. You were amazing.”
“I haven’t done it in a long time. Did the doctors say there was a reason why he doesn’t talk?”
“They feel it’s just an impairment. There’s no reason why, meaning something with his brain or anything. He just doesn’t talk. And I think they all just give up on him. Blame it on the fact that he was a premature baby. I don’t buy into that.”
“Aiden, it’s possible…”
“I’m not worried about possible. I’m worried about Felix. He can make sounds, Lily. Car. Truck. Animals. But to say that animal? Not a chance. He’s started to get angry, too. So now there’s more concern about him. I don’t know how much more I can take.”