Silent

by Sara Alva

  “Why don’t we head inside?” Suzie suggested.

  Obediently, we all filed in. A tray with iced tea and cookies was set out in the living room, where Seb and I stiffly took our seats.

  I didn’t find anything too unexpected inside the small house. The dark floors shone with a fresh layer of what smelled like orange oil, and a couple of paintings of Native American huts hung in frames on the wall. Nothing looked expensive, but all the furniture was real hardwood and it was old, the scratches of time carefully recoated with stain and finish. Some tarnished silver platters sat next to a row of books on a shelf, along with an old wooden crucifix propped up in the corner.

  That last sight did cause some concern. I hadn’t gone to church in almost ten years, so the God I called upon in moments of need didn’t scare me. But the one usually tied to that crucifix made me uncomfortable, if only because the people I’d known who clung to it—like José’s mother—would never have accepted me as I was.

  And how would Seb be accepted here? I bit down on the inside of my cheek as fear started to grow.

  “Would you like some iced tea?” Diane asked, pouring us all glasses before we could respond. “It’s getting hot out there, isn’t it?”

  Seb’s grandmother quietly walked over to her bookshelf and pulled down a large album. She handed it to Seb as she sat beside him.

  Her hands danced again, and Diane translated. “I’d like for you to look through it and see pictures of Selena.”

  Seb’s chest rose and fell a few times before he cracked open the spine. On the first page were a bunch of baby photographs, two tiny footprints, and a lock of brown hair. His fingers slid toward the hair, and when he touched it, he inhaled sharply.

  Then he started flying through the pages, hunching over to study them and partially blocking my view. I caught sight of a beautiful, dark-haired child, occasionally surrounded by friends, including a skinny girl with pigtails and braces. The ages progressed, and I gathered that the gangly girl was Diane. The gorgeous one was Seb’s mother, obviously, and when Seb arrived at one of her in her late teens, he reached under the plastic covering and yanked it out.

  Cupping the photo in his palm, he bit his lip, probably to keep it from trembling.

  “She was so beautiful,” Diane murmured. “And such a good person.” The tears I’d predicted were making an appearance, and she grabbed at a napkin to dab them away. “We were like sisters, growing up. I used to live here with her and Aunt Maria after my mom passed away.”

  Seb’s grandmother—Maria—took her hand and smiled in comfort.

  Seb flipped forward a couple more pages, keeping the photograph of his mother in his lap. He stopped again when he saw a few of her looking thin and frail, her long dark hair drowning out a weak smile.

  Maria explained as Diane interpreted. “I didn’t realize at first. I was a fool. I was too busy working and she wanted to be young and free and I’d always trusted her. I should have asked more questions, I should have figured out sooner—”

  “No, no,” Diane interrupted her own translation. “I’m the one who knew. I knew the kind of people she was hanging out with. I knew what they did…I just never thought that…that it’d take her away like that…”

  “You were a child,” Maria whispered in her breathy voice.

  “Seb?” Suzie placed her iced tea on the coffee table and leaned toward him. “Are you all right?”

  He was frozen, still staring at the photograph, but he broke from the moment and gave her a nod.

  “Maybe we should save some of this discussion for another visit,” Suzie began.

  Now he shot me a pleading look, shaking his head. No. I’m fine. Tell her I can handle this.

  “Um…I think he wants to know.” I ventured into the conversation warily. I felt like an intruder, sitting there in front of the sculpted wood coffee table and the homemade cookies and the book full of some other family’s memories.

  Diane snatched another napkin. “We did what we could. I tried to talk to her, and things seemed better for a while. Maria spent every penny she had in savings to send her to that fancy rehab…but then she just ran away. And she was eighteen, so the cops wouldn’t do anything.”

  Seb’s fingers began to twitch, and I realized he’d left the whiteboard in the car. I scrambled up to retrieve it for him, eager for the chance to get away.

  Because it was all starting to come together now. Drugs had robbed Selena of the nice, loving family in that little home. And then they’d robbed Seb of his family, too. And it was a tragedy, of course…but it seemed like it was no one’s fault, and there was nothing really standing in the way of Suzie putting what was left of that family back together.

  It wasn’t jealousy, but there was something souring in my stomach.

  I returned and handed the board to Seb, then watched over his shoulder as he wrote, she wus a gud mom. Before he could display it, I grabbed the marker and changed the u in wus into an a, just because it seemed like a word he’d need often. Unless Maria and Diane taught him some of that sign language. Maybe he wouldn’t need me at all, then.

  Seb flipped the board for them to see, and both women nodded, tears springing to their eyes. I didn’t know how good she could’ve been, considering the way she’d left Seb…but I supposed we all told ourselves those little partial truths to make life easier.

  Diane got up next, returning with a couple of yearbooks so we could go back to a happier period of time. She opened one to an elementary school picture of Selena—with a flashy side ponytail, and Seb cracked a smile. His finger moved down to trace her name: Selena Woods. Since there was no father in Seb’s life, it might as well have been his last name, too.

  Sebastian Woods. He wasn’t a mystery child anymore.

  When we’d been through what felt like a thousand pictures, we moved on to a brief tour of the house. There was a decent-sized backyard with an avocado tree and a chicken coop, a small kitchen tucked away in the far corner of the home, and two bedrooms. The second of those was a guest room, but I had a feeling it’d been set up for one guest in particular.

  Seb took a step inside and craned his neck to look at it from every angle. It had been his mother’s room, once. Now, the walls were a grayish-blue, bathed in direct sunlight from a large window, and the bed was covered with a handmade quilt. There was a desk in the corner with what looked like a brand new computer sitting on top, parts of it still in the packaging. New notebooks and pens lined the shelf, along with a framed portrait of Selena, young and smiling and happy.

  The room was meant for Seb. The family was meant for Seb. And I was meant to…let him have it.

  I didn’t speak through the dinner of mashed potatoes and roast beef. Seb’s grandmother didn’t add much to the conversation, either, but that was probably because Diane basically never shut up. She wanted to tell us all about her father who cared for her but couldn’t have raised a girl on his own, and Maria who was the second mother she’d been so lucky to have, and the little house she’d moved into down the road. And about how excited she was to have another cousin after all these years, and how she couldn’t wait to show him around the neighborhood, to all those places she and Selena had liked to hang out at when they were kids.

  Somewhere in the middle of a tale about a snake on Selena’s favorite hiking trail, Seb yawned.

  “He’s tired,” I announced, surprised by the volume of my voice. I hadn’t meant to be that loud, or that excited. But Seb’s yawn held the promise of leaving, and I couldn’t wait to be alone with him again, to hold him and kiss him and slip back into the private little peace we’d found in each other’s arms.

  His grandmother bobbed her head in agreement.

  “Maybe he could rest in the bedroom for a while?” Diane suggested.

  Suzie nodded. “That sounds like a good idea. And Alex, maybe you might like to watch some TV in the living room? I do have some things I need to discuss with Maria and Diane.”

  Fuck.

  Dian
e came with us and ushered Seb into the bedroom. “If there’s anything you need, we put a bell by the nightstand.” She flashed him that overly bright smile as she headed out, her hand on my shoulder to drag me along.

  “No cable, I’m afraid,” she chattered on, seating me on the couch and handing me a remote. “But you just make yourself at home.”

  And then she was off again, darting into the kitchen to get back to that discussing she and Suzie had to do.

  I didn’t even think about turning on the TV. Channeling all my energy into my hearing, I grasped wisps of conversation.

  “I think a gradual transition would be best. From occasional visits to just weekends at first, to see how he adjusts.”

  “Of course. And we’d like to start as soon as possible.”

  “He still needs a lot of support. And right now, the psychiatrist is not recommending any sudden dramatic changes. The trauma he experienced as a child caused some deep psychological damage, and he really has only started to come out of it very recently—first with his friend Alex, and with everyone else, only for about a month.”

  There was a bit of whimpering—Diana, no doubt.

  “We understand. We don’t want to do anything to upset his recovery…but we do want him to find a home here.”

  Going into self-defense mode, my brain tried to shut out the rest. The words “custody” and “adoption” managed to sneak through anyhow, and I eventually sank my head to my knees, breathing short, strained breaths into the dark space between my legs.

  It was Seb’s happily ever after. The only problem was, I wasn’t going to be a part of it.

  And I shouldn’t even try. I should let him go, like I’d been prepared to do before. Step out of the shadow of his life and back into my own. I shouldn’t make his transition into his family any harder than it had to be. As my mother had done for me, I should cut ties and let him find a new happiness as a loved little boy, because sixteen wasn’t too old to have a childhood, so long as I wasn’t there trying to make us grow up even faster…

  I jerked my head suddenly, though I didn’t know why until my eyes locked onto Seb, who was standing in the hallway that led to his bedroom. I tried to wipe the despair from my face but it was a lost cause.

  He signaled for me.

  I shook my head.

  He motioned for me again, this time with more force. I said, come here.

  Feeling like a scolded child, I got up and followed.

  He was sitting on the bed by the time I got in there, under the covers, and he patted the spot beside him.

  “That’s not such a good idea,” I mumbled, looking at my shoes.

  He rose quickly and shut the bedroom door. This time, he took me by the hand so he could force me onto the bed.

  “Seb…we shouldn’t do this.”

  He wrapped his arm around me to push my body onto the mattress.

  “Seb…”

  His fingers moved against my back, giving me a gentle rub.

  “Seb, you don’t understand. We can’t do this. We can’t do this here. You know there are people out there who don’t like…people like us.”

  I closed my eyes so I didn’t have to see the look in his.

  “I’ve been thinking about this…” And we should run away again. Escape somewhere new…join a group of generous hippies or live off the land…

  “I think…I think maybe we should cool it for a little while, you know? Because your grandma and your cousin, they really like you. I mean, they really, really like you. They want you in their lives and they’ve only known you for an afternoon. They’re the kind of people who know you’re their blood and are ready to give you anything you need to have a successful life. Do you know how lucky you are?”

  A snort caused me to open my eyes. God, I did sort of sound like Suzie right now.

  Seb drew closer, his warm breath on my lips.

  “But you do get that not everyone can handle people like us, right? I mean…gay people. And I don’t think this is something we should bring up right now, because you don’t know how your grandmother will react…and you just can’t risk this, Seb. You can’t risk what you have here. You can’t give this up. They’re your family!”

  Seb drew his hand back, and with a frightening burst of speed, jabbed a finger straight into my chest. The impact sent waves of pain shooting out from the small spot where he now touched me. There’d be a bruise there, soon. A tiny, round mark left on the shield of my heart.

  Seb opened his mouth. “You.”

  It was a harsh, scraping syllable. Hardly a beautiful sound by any stretch of the imagination. And barely louder than a whisper. But I’d heard it. I’d heard it!

  He poked me again, gentler now, and though no more noise emerged, his lips moved slowly and deliberately so I could read every word.

  You are my family.

  “Oh, God, Seb.” Before I could start weeping like a little schoolgirl, I drew him against me, seeking the heat of his mouth. He closed the distance between us and silenced my stupid fears with a steady, sweet kiss.

  We’re in this crazy life together.

  I slipped my hands under his shirt, locking onto his back. Maybe he was my mountain, and maybe I was his. I wasn’t going to question it anymore. I was going to hold on for all I was worth.

  More kisses followed—his along my cheeks and temples, mine down his neck and into the dip of his collarbone. I even kissed his fingertips, one at a time, as his lids drooped and his legs tangled with mine. And when the warmth from his body and from the small, sun-struck room started to make me drowsy, I brushed his lips one last time and tried to draw away.

  He didn’t let me go, and my eyes slowly drifted closed.

  ~*~

  I knew something was wrong before I woke up. Seb’s body was rigid against mine, every muscle tightened and his neck straining like he was trying to lift his head off the pillow.

  When I heard nothing for several seconds, I cracked open a lid and saw his grandmother staring at us from the doorway.

  I instinctively jerked back, but found myself locked in place by Seb’s unmoving arms. He was wide awake, and staring right back at her with a squared jaw and the fire of defiance in his eyes.

  I’d never seen him look so confident before. Where had he gained all that strength? I’d never had that. I’d faked it, sure, but never really felt it. Maybe I could borrow a little of his strength now, to face whatever we had coming.

  His grandmother continued to study us, her dark eyes wide and barely blinking. Seb gritted his teeth. I could almost imagine a telepathic conversation taking place between them as the seconds of silence ticked by.

  Then, with that same slow beauty I’d seen earlier, her lips spread into a smile.

  Seb’s body collapsed back into the mattress. I felt his quickened heartbeat as my hand slipped over his chest and realized he hadn’t been at all sure of this outcome. And maybe some of his strength had been a front, too, but that didn’t make me any less proud.

  His grandmother’s expression changed then—into one that needed no words to be understood.

  With an eyebrow raised and a finger pointed in gentle reprimand, she propped open the bedroom door as wide as it would go. And you boys make sure it stays that way.

  I met her gaze sheepishly, and the warm smile returned before she walked away.

  The moment she disappeared around the corner, Seb grabbed hold of me, crushing my chest in his powerful embrace. Little bursts of air tickled my skin as he laughed, kissed me, and laughed some more.

  Eyes bright with happy tears, he wove our fingers together under the handmade quilt.

  Welcome home, Alex.

  About the Author

  Sara Alva is a former small-town girl currently living in big-city LA with a husband, two cats, and an avocado tree. She recently discovered— after a year in her house— that she also has a fig tree in her backyard, which might mean she needs to get out more. But sometimes the stories waiting to be told demand more atte
ntion, and when she puts fingers to keyboard, it’s usually to write about journeys of self-discovery, heartache, personal growth, friendship and love. When she isn’t writing, she’s teaching or dancing.

  For information, free reads and news on upcoming releases, visit http://SaraAlva.com/.

  Other Works by Sara Alva

  Social Skills

  Pura Vida

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