by Kyle Baxter
Chapter Nineteen
In the Evening
David and Eric had a night at home of delivery pizza and movies. Though he monitored their food intake carefully through the school week, David liked to splurge on the weekends. Movie night on Saturday was usually the only time they drank soda.
“We didn’t get our tree,” Eric said from his favorite stool at the kitchen counter.
“No, we did not. We’ll do it later this week, okay?” David felt his face flush. He needed to do better. In all the activity this afternoon, the plan to get the tree got pushed aside without a thought.
Eric leaned against his father’s arm. “There’s no rush. Christmas is weeks away.”
David rubbed his son’s head. “You’re right.”
He got up and put their plates away in the dishwasher and cleaned the counter, storing the leftover pizza in the refrigerator.
He tossed a pack of popcorn in the microwave and snagged sodas from the fridge. A consequence of all the time spent in a movie theater in his adolescence, he was constitutionally incapable of watching a movie without popcorn and a Coke.
He handed the sodas to Eric. “You go turn on the TV.”
“Yes, sir.” Eric saluted, jumped off the stool, and rushed off.
David shook his head. That kid.
As the kettle corn popped, he pulled the big bowl from the cabinet and thought of the Orpheum. More and more he liked it as a venue for the Christmas party. It was charming, it had character, and it was a well-known landmark. Hopefully the interior was in manageable shape.
Grabbing his cellphone, David was eager to call Alex and discuss it. He paused and stared at the screen. Leave the man alone. He’s busy at the restaurant. After setting the smart device on the counter, he removed the popcorn from the microwave and poured it in the bowl. In the living room he plopped down on the couch beside his son.
It was his turn to pick out the movie. Though he always kept his selection to something he thought Eric would enjoy, it was a chance to expose the boy to media he wanted him to see, films he thought were important—or at least important to him.
They munched popcorn and settled in for the show. As the screen lit up with the Paramount Pictures logo, David nudged his son with an elbow.
“We loved this movie when we were kids.”
Eric’s eyes lit up. “You and Alex?”
David pulled Eric closer and gave him a kiss on the head. The visit of his childhood friend was making him nostalgic. He hadn’t watched this movie in years.
“I hope he stays.” Eric grabbed a handful of the kettle corn.
He exhaled a long breath. “His home is in New York, buddy.”
“I know, but I can still hope.”
That gave him pause. In a few weeks, Alex would return to New York City, and David couldn’t afford to build up any hope he wouldn’t, neither for himself nor for Eric. But what could he do? He didn’t want to not see him.
His arm still around him, David gave the boy another squeeze. How does one not get hopes up? He hadn’t found a way yet.
Later, after putting his son to bed, he retreated to his own bedroom and texted Bonnie: How is your night?
She quickly replied, Found you another blind date. You ready?
Can’t find magic if you aren’t ‘out there.’
Where have I heard that? Bonnie texted with the thinking emoji as a closer.
A wise woman told me that. He repeated his mother’s words.
His phone rang a minute later. Putting an earbud in, he accepted the call.
“What’s going on?” Bonnie’s voice floated through the air.
“Aren’t you at work?” he asked.
“I took a break. I’m hiding in the coat check.”
“What’s up?”
“How was it today with Alex? Heard you rescued him.”
David left his bedroom and ambled down the stairs. “I’m really glad he’s back. I’ve missed him.”
“Me too.” She was chewing on something. “But?”
He turned the light on in the kitchen and began poking through the cabinets. “What are you eating?”
“One of Mama’s gingerbread cookies. They’re so dangerous to have lying around,” she said between mouthfuls.
He chuckled. “I’m keeping the ones she gave us hidden away, out of sight and out of mind.”
“But?”
“I was angry with him for so long, but I don’t want to carry that around anymore.” David pulled the cookie jar out and set it on the counter.
“Tell him that.” Her voice was firm and he imagined her shaking a finger at him. “You two need to talk. He and I had it out this morning.”
He set a quart of milk on the counter. “How did that go?”
“Surprisingly well. There’s still work to do, but my teeth aren’t grinding every time he lets go with that ‘HAH’ of his anymore.”
“God, I missed that. It was a day, huh? Is he okay?” Pouring the milk into a glass with a cartoon character on it, he sat at the counter and took one of the cookies out of the jar.
There was a shuffling sound on the line. “He is. I’m looking at him now through the coat check window. He’s dancing behind the bar.”
“That’s typical.” He munched happily on a cookie.
“What’re you eating?” she asked.
“One of Mama’s gingerbread cookies,” he said between bites. “They are insidious.”
Bonnie tittered. “Devilishly good . . . I have to go. Your date is tomorrow night.”
“That’s quick.” He needed to find a sitter.
She exhaled deeply. “I know, but she has the night free and I know you do too.”
“You’re right, and it is time to move on.” David took a long sip of milk. “What do you think of all this?”
“You’re applying for a new job. You’re dating again and ready to bury the hatchet with Alex. I’m proud of you, big guy . . . Now, would you like to talk to him?”
Chapter Twenty
You’re So Strong
Alex worked behind the bar doing a deep cleaning. They closed half an hour ago and only a few tables remained. Business was always good during the holidays. Capili’s was an event destination in town. Plenty of birthdays, anniversaries, and engagements and people just out celebrating the season.
“You don’t need to do this.” Justin leaned over the bar. “I can do that on my next bar shift, or let the old man do it.”
“I don’t mind.” Alex smiled at the blond. One of the relief bartenders, Justin subbed for the old man, Sal, on occasion.
In his short time back, Alex watched Justin behind the bar a couple of times. He liked him there. He was fun, personable, and had yet to become as grumpy as the regular, who normally held court. If he had his druthers, he’d have Justin on his staff at Five Points Catering.
Of course, Alex was almost as old as Sal. He suspected the younger guys who worked here thought of him as one of the “grumpy old men.” How did that happen?
Looking up, he saw Bonnie exit the coat check. She returned to the host stand, cordless house phone in hand. Pressing a button, she set it back in its cradle.
She waved at him across the room. “Your boyfriend is on line one.”
He recoiled. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” It can’t be. Snapping up the house phone, he braced for the worst.
“Hello.” David’s baritone immediately made him smile.
He breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t Todd. Why would he think that? Bonnie saying “boyfriend” really threw him. “What’s up, babe?” he asked and jabbed a finger at a smirking Justin. The guy left to join Bonnie.
“Eric wants to know if you’ll come with us to the Christmas tree lighting in Rosner Park. You missed the festival, but Sinterklaas will be there,” David asked.
“They still do that?” The Quarter’s tree was partially lit now, but the lighting of the star and the official ceremony happened the week before Christmas. A huge event when they we
re kids, but it faded over the years. Apparently Edgedale revived it. “Of course I’ll come.”
Was he coming off as overeager? He knew he was a lot sometimes. Extra, as Justin liked to say. “I mean, depending on where we are with the party and if I can get away from here.” You’re being ridiculous. He called you.
“Okay . . .”
Was that disappointment? Alex couldn’t make it out. Damn his insecurities. Why didn’t he just say yes? He needed to say something, anything.
“I have a question.” Alex leaned forward, resting his arms on the bar as he cradled the phone between his shoulder and ear. “At the store this morning you told Mr. Perkins about my play. How did you know?”
There was a long pause before David continued. “Your theater group posted a video of a performance.”
“Hah! You googled me.” Alex pumped his fist.
He heard David chuckle. “Guilty. I name-searched you after we left Capili’s the other night and watched the video. It was good. Well, the writing was good. Some of your actors though . . .”
Alex rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, you take what you can get off-off-off Broadway.”
“Hey, it was good,” David repeated. “It reminded me of old times.”
“Thank you.” Alex blushed and felt silly for doing so. David couldn’t see him; they were talking on the phone. “Changing topic, has Bonnie mentioned Justin?” Alex watched her chat up the server at the host stand. They looked tight.
David took a sharp breath. “The blond kid? Yeah, in passing.”
Alex held a hand over his mouth and the receiver to keep his voice from carrying. “He’s into her.”
“Don’t say anything else,” David said. “Don’t jinx it.”
“Superstitious?”
“Merely cautious. She hasn’t had a lot of luck in love.” David’s voice was hushed even over the phone, like he was leaning over and talking in his ear. “Despite how much the SUNY campus made us grow, Edgedale’s still a small town.”
“You’re protecting her.” He was impressed. Though David sometimes took on too much, it was usually in trying to do the right thing. He admired it.
“Someone has to.”
Alex flinched. Was that a reference to his leaving? He didn’t think it was a deliberate slight but felt the sting anyway. Should he ask?
“That wasn’t about you.” David beat him to the punch. “Not everything is about you, Alex.”
“How dare you, David Cooper,” he hissed. “I will have you know that everything is about me. I am the pretty, pretty princess.”
David’s laugh was hearty. “Yes, you are.”
“Hah!” Giving a wave to Bonnie’s questioning glance, he let a moment go by before asking, “Are you going to be up for a while?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Love Truth and Honesty
David was still wondering why Alex asked how long he’d be up when something hit the front of the house. A moment later, there was a second thump. Walking to the window, he found the remains of a snowball splattered on the pane.
Exhaling deeply, he looked heavenward. There he was, standing on the lawn, waving up at him like a fiend.
“Coop!”
Sliding the window pane up, he leaned out. “Hey, are we really doing this?”
“Why not?” Alex examined the old sycamore on David’s front lawn. “I mean, we’re doing late-night phone calls.”
David waved him up. “Just be careful. If you get hurt, Mama will kill us both. I don’t want her coming after me with her chancla.” When they were kids, they’d often sneak out and run to the other’s house. Climbing a nearby tree, or the Coopers’ trellis, they’d sit on their respective roofs and talk long into the night. The routine was a regular occurrence, even into their teens.
Alex made his way carefully up the tree. He inched along on one of the thick branches that reached up over the house and let himself gingerly onto the roof.
David brushed the snow off, away from the window, and climbed out. He left the window open. The heat pouring from the house made the temperature manageable.
In a crouch, Alex inched along the gently sloping eave. “This may not have been my best idea.”
David smirked. “Shocking.”
The night was almost cloudless and the air cold and crisp. It was his favorite time of year in New England. They sat in silence for several minutes.
Alex nudged him. “Your mom is doing good.”
“Yeah, I wish she’d date.” David picked at his fingernails. “It’s been five years since my dad passed.”
“She’ll get there. Your dad is a hard act to follow.” Alex made a small snowball and threw it off the roof. “Mini Coop is a great kid.”
He nodded. “Thank you. I agree, and of course I am completely unbiased on the subject.”
“Of course.” Alex smiled.
Get it out of the way. “How about you? Never wanted to have kids?”
Alex shook his head vigorously. “Oh, God no. Never.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to become my dad.”
There was a lot to unpack in that statement, but David couldn’t fault it. He remembered Alex’s father far too well. “Surely you’ve had boyfriends and lovers. Any husbands out there?”
Alex nodded. “I have had boyfriends.”
“What happened? They never worked out? Never wanted to get married?”
“Oh no, I did. My last one, maybe the last one, was Todd. We were together two years. I was ready to buy rings, and then I found out—at Christmas, no less—that he’d been cheating on me.”
David’s eyes went wide.
“Now, I’ve got no problem with open marriages or polyamory or what have you. I mean, do what floats your boat. I just want to be let in on the decision. I didn’t appreciate finding out the hard way, at Christmas.”
David was aghast. “You had no idea it was going on?” How could that guy do that to Alex?
“In retrospect, there were signs, but I ignored them.” Alex’s fist clenched. “I knew Todd’s friend. They worked together. I should’ve sussed it out.”
“You can’t blame yourself.” David leaned into him.
“That’s what I do though—blame myself.” Alex’s eyes watered and he looked away.
“I remember . . .”
“How about you?” Alex asked after a while. “What happened with you and Adriana?”
Of course he was curious about what happened between him and his ex-wife. David asked about his love life, after all. And they all knew each other in high school.
“We were on and off again through college. We got married when I got into the pros playing hockey. It was rocky, but it always was.”
“I remember.” Alex’s tone was neutral, but David bristled a bit. Adriana and Alex were never friends; they tolerated each other.
“Eric was an accident. A happy one, of course, but I didn’t plan on having a kid then. She and I separated when he was two.” His voice cracked. “She kept custody because I was on the road half the year and training the other half.”
Alex twisted around to look square at him. “That must have been tough.”
“It was, but she was a good mother—or so I believed.” David felt his muscles tighten. “The hockey injuries kept coming. It was beating me up. When Dad got sick, I decided to retire.”
“Is that how you got interested in nursing?”
“Yes, we had full-time nurses after the first series of strokes. They were angels.” David smiled, remembering the women who took care of his father. He still kept in touch with them and his mother sent them Christmas presents every year. “Law and politics lost their appeal with my dad on his deathbed.”
“Your father was a good man. He’d be proud.” Alex sniffed, either from the cold or emotion; David couldn’t tell.
“Thank you, but I was so in my head with my hockey career and with Dad’s passing that I missed all the warning signs with Eric. I was going back to
school for nursing full-time here and living with my mom in the old house uptown. It wasn’t until a visit back to Chicago to see him that I put it all together. He was thin, but I was too when I was that age. I didn’t realize he was malnourished. Then I found the bruises.” He let out a deep breath. Alex put a hand on his shoulder.
David pushed on. “Adriana began drinking hard when I was playing hockey but kept it hidden. After the divorce, it escalated. I took Eric to a doctor and called the lawyers. To her credit, she didn’t fight me too hard.”
“Really?” The surprise in his voice was obvious.
“Rigorous honesty?” David parroted the phrase used in the rooms of recovery. When Adriana’s alcoholism became apparent, David spent time in Al-Anon meetings trying to understand. “She gave up all her parental rights.”
Surprise bloomed on Alex’s face. “How did you accomplish that?”
David groaned. He should’ve anticipated that question. The woman Alex knew didn’t flinch from a fight. “We waved a bunch of money in her face and she went away. It was in one of her periods of recovery and she was trying to make amends, I assume. I don’t know and don’t really care. I did what I had to do.”
“Wow.” Alex pivoted to face the yard again.
“You used to call me a trust-fund baby? A lot of that’s gone now.” David chuckled.
He watched his friend’s profile ponder all that. It was a lot of information to absorb. Buying Adriana off was a course of action David didn’t want to take, but he didn’t regret it. When he closed his eyes, he still saw the bruises on Eric’s small body and shuddered.
“Her parents weren’t happy about it. They wanted him. Wanted to raise him. It wasn’t pretty and I’m not proud of it, but we did it.” David found himself tearing up. “I let them come visit, but there is no unsupervised visitation.”
“How is Adriana?” Alex asked.
“She’s in Florida now and back to using, I think?” He shrugged. “We never hear from her. We used to get weird hang-up calls in the night. There was crying on the line, but I changed to an unlisted number. She can contact us through her parents’ lawyer if she wants.”