by Kyle Baxter
“Mr. Bowers, what happened?” Alex shook his hand.
“Eric hit another student.”
“The kid outside? The bigger kid? Good on Eric.”
“This is serious. We do not tolerate violence,” Bowers said.
He was aware someone had entered the room behind him but ignored them as anger flashed bright behind his eyes.
“I don’t think you understand what’s been going on. The young man outside’s been bullying Eric, shoving into him and punching him. He and his friends call him names and make fun of him. They call him ‘gay,’ they call him ‘fag,’ and if—”
“What?!” came the voice behind him. But Alex wasn’t ready to pay them any mind. For his part, Bowers was wide-eyed with this new information.
“You say you don’t allow violence? Then, sir, you’re failing as an administrator. I’m teaching Eric to defend himself, to protect himself from kids like that. And if I ever have to come down here for this nonsense again—”
“Let me stop you there,” the voice behind him said, and he finally turned. It was a woman in her late thirties and conservatively dressed for the season. Jabbing a finger in the direction of the kid outside, she shook with anger. “I’ll take care of my son. And I promise, your boy will never have any trouble from him again, Mister—?”
He jutted out his chin. “Capili, Alex Capili.”
She flinched upon recognizing his last name. “Your son is . . . ?”
Not correcting her, he said, “Eric Cooper.”
Now she blanched at Eric’s last name. Not for the first time, he was reminded that the Cooper name meant something in this town.
She put a hand to her chest. “Mr. Capili, I’m so sorry. This will not happen again.” She handed him a business card. “Call me anytime you need to. Mr. Bowers, I’ll take care of this. I assume he’s getting suspended?”
“One week,” Bowers squeaked.
Alex looked at the name on the card: Cara Sarafyan. Taken aback, he anticipated an argument from an overprotective parent.
She stormed into the hall, glared at her son, and pointed for the exit door. Like a condemned man, the kid stood and plodded to the exit.
Watching them leave, he was amazed and impressed. “I would not want to be him right now.”
“Me either,” Bowers agreed. “Sir, I am very sorry, but we have a zero-tolerance policy on violence. Eric is suspended for two days.”
His mouth dropped. “One strike and you’re out? But he was being physically threatened.”
Bowers sat in his chair and gestured for Alex to do the same, but he refused. “I know, and I am sorry. Defending yourself is not wrong, but this policy is meant to be preventative. It’s a matter of not giving kids an excuse to fight. What if the other boy non-physically instigated the fight? He could claim self-defense and get away with it.”
“I understand, but it still sucks.”
Bowers’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, but it is the policy.”
“I appreciate you calling me, but ‘I’m only following orders’ has always been a rubbish excuse. Now you know to keep a sharper eye out.” Alex glowered.
“I assure you we will,” Bowers said firmly.
“Eric will know how to defend himself, period.” He tapped the desk hard with his finger. “And if there are more problems, I will go to the school board.”
“Yes, sir.” Bowers stood, and they shook hands again. The man was clearly upset by the situation. Alex liked him, but this was about Eric’s safety, and nothing was more important.
Stepping outside the office, he swept the boy up in his arms and kissed his cheek.
“You’re not mad?” Tears streamed down the boy’s face.
“No,” he said. “You defended yourself. You did nothing wrong.” Setting him down, he took his hand and they walked out the door toward his truck.
Eric pointed back to the building. “But school isn’t over yet.”
“I couldn’t care less.” He grinned. “Christmas vacation just came early.”
“Did I get suspended?” Eric froze in place.
“Two days.”
The nugget’s eyes widened. “But it’ll go on my permanent record.”
Alex shook his head. He forgot some teachers and administrators loved using ‘permanent record’ as a cudgel. “Let me tell you a secret: there is no such thing.”
Eric halted. Alex assumed he was surprised by the revelation, but the boy was staring at his truck. It was not at all in a proper parking space and one wheel was up on the curb. The boy gave him a serious eyebrow raise.
“I was in a hurry.”
The boy shook his head. “Where are we going?”
“‘Get in. We’re going shopping.’” He opened the passenger door. “Mean Girls.”
Eric scrunched up his face as he climbed in. “I’m not supposed to know about that yet.”
“Yeah, don’t tell your father.”
Settling into the back seat, Eric huffed. “I’m going to have to start taking notes to keep up with all these movies.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Ballad of the Sad Young Men
It was almost quitting time before David had a chance to catch his breath. Hospitals were always hectic this time of year. Even excluding the accident, today was a busier morning than normal. Everyone seemed to be trying to get in or out before the holidays.
I need a nap.
With alarm, he registered the missed calls and voicemails from Eric’s school. There was also a text from Alex; he’d picked up Eric. Stuy’s admin, unable to get ahold of him, moved onto Alex, their newest contact number.
Thank goodness. David fretted about what happened but was satisfied it wasn’t too urgent from the lack of alarm in Alex’s text: Picked up the nugget, all is well. Call when you can.
The conversational tone made him hopeful they could clear the air. Fearing another surprise appearance by Zooey, he waited until he was in his car before calling. Her ability to pop up at the worst possible time was always uncanny. And now it looked orchestrated. He wouldn’t be surprised if she broke into their phone call somehow.
There was a lilt in Alex’s voice as he picked up the call. “Coop!”
That’s a good sign. “Hey, what’s going on?” David started the car, turning the heat and defroster up full blast.
“A little problem at school. We’ll tell you about it when you get here.”
“Is he okay?” Alex was evasive. What happened?
“Eric’s fine. We’re playing video games,” Alex explained. “Say hi to your old man.”
He heard his son’s cheerful voice. Everything was okay. Wait, he’s playing video games? It made sense given the loud explosions he heard in the background. “What video games?”
“After I picked him up, we went shopping. I bought a game console,” Alex chirped.
His anger flared. “I was buying Eric a console for Christmas. That’s my gift to him. You can’t parachute in and do things like this. We talked about this.”
“The game console is mine,” Alex said in a tight, clipped tone. “We went shopping because I needed a diversion after dealing with the school administrator, the other parent, you, Zooey, and my aunt, and godda—gosh darn everything else. The game console is mine. We’re at my house. Come and get your son.”
Alex ended the call. If he’d owned a landline, he probably would have slammed the receiver down. Ouch. David screwed up.
The drive into the Quarter felt longer than normal. Pulling up to Alex’s house, he steeled himself. As he got out of the car and started up the walkway, Eric ran out to greet him. Alex stayed on the porch. This was not going to be fun.
“Get in the car and wait for me,” he said. Eric waved at Alex.
Crossing his arms, Alex waited. The dog sat beside him, his tail still.
“I’m sorry.” David walked up to the porch.
Alex’s eyes didn’t meet his. “I don’t want to talk about it. Today’s been full enough, for a
ll of us.”
“That’s true, but still, I apologize. Thank you for picking him up. What happened?”
“Eric hit a kid,” Alex said. “He’s suspended for two days.”
“What?”
Alex shrugged. “A group of boys has been bullying him. The nugget defended himself, that’s all.”
Anger and shame flooded through him. “Why don’t I know this? Why do you know this?”
“I figured out that something was up and asked him.” Alex stepped off the porch, moving closer to him.
Tears stung his eyes. “Why didn’t he talk to me?”
“He doesn’t want to be a burden.” Alex sat on the bottom step. “I think he’s afraid you’ll reject him like his mom did. It’s not rational, but that’s how kids are. I can relate.”
It felt like a slap to the face. How could this happen? Eric never said a word. How were things so bad that his son wouldn’t talk to him about something like this?
Alex watched him, his face full of sympathy. He scratched behind Max’s ears. “You’re not like my dad, David. You’re a good man. Just talk to him.”
He sat on the step below him and hung his head. “Thank you.”
Alex put a hand on his shoulder. “There’s something else.”
David looked back at him. “Oh, good.”
Alex stood and walked past, then turned to face him “I’ve been teaching Eric how to defend himself, so I’m responsible for him giving that kid a black eye.”
His head snapped up. “He gave someone a black eye?”
Alex grinned like a fiend. “The kid’s a bully. He deserved it.”
David chuckled but forced his face into a mask of seriousness and wagged his finger at him. “Don’t do that. Don’t make me laugh. He can’t see us laughing about this.” He looked around Alex to glare at Eric in the car. Pivoting back to Alex, he said, “I’m ashamed to say that makes me a little proud.”
Stomping his feet, Alex hugged himself in the cold. “I’m right there with you.”
“I’m sorry for misjudging you about the game console,” David added, wanting to get it out before Alex shut down, but his friend only nodded.
“I did learn my lesson with the cellphone.”
“Given how right you’ve been with all this, I may revisit that.”
Glancing at the car, Alex said, “Just let him carry it with him, no service. He just wants to look like one of the guys and to not stand out.”
That made David smile. “Well, like you, he will always stand out.”
“That’s why the little things matter.”
He was right and David knew it. “Point taken. Now, can we talk about the Christmas tree lighting?”
Holding up his hands, Alex stepped back. “Please, let’s quit while we’re ahead. The day’s been long enough as is. I heard about the traffic accident, you must be bone tired. And I’m freezing my ass off.”
David gave him a sly wink. “Well, we can’t have that.”
“You’re the one with the nice rear end.” Alex walked back up the stairs. Max looked up at David and snuffed.
He couldn’t stop the grin breaking over his face. “I don’t know, babe. You’ve come a long way since high school.” He made squeezing gestures with his hands. “Nice tushie.”
He watched his old friend shake his head and give a last wave before entering his house and closing the door. His silhouette disappeared from the frosted glass as he went into the back of the building.
David hugged himself. He was bone tired. He thought of texting him CALL ME but only stared at the phone for a long moment before putting it away and climbing into the car.
“Did you eat?” David asked Eric as he started the car. Shrugging in response, his boy sat curled up in the corner of the back seat as far away from him as he could.
“Come here,” he said, and Eric crawled to him. They clung to each other for a long time.
His stomach gnawed at him, a reminder that he skipped lunch in all of the hullaballoo today.
“I want pizza. Let’s go home and order delivery.” Fuck the diet.
Chapter Fifty
She Keeps Me Warm
Alex spent the morning telecommuting. In the afternoon, he stopped by the restaurant on his way to the Orpheum. He found his aunt fussing over the cooks in the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
“My job.” She brushed past him.
He followed on her heels. “You should be resting.” Taking her hand, he led her away.
Mama batted him away and moved to the dessert station. “Leave me be.”
“Aunt Claire, come sit down.” Taking her hand again, he led her toward the large door into the dining room.
She smacked his hand. “Dammit, boy, I’ll spend the time I have left how I want to spend it.”
The prep cooks, sous chefs, and waiters all froze, watching them. Their eyes wide, they’d clearly never heard her speak like that. They looked to each other but were afraid to say anything.
It shook him. Mama knew. Of course she did, but she knew. She knew she was dying. Backing away, he nodded. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks.
“I’m sorry. You’re right. You do whatever you want to do.”
“Oh come here, you silly boy.” She opened her arms.
He rushed into them. She felt so small and frail. Had she always been this small? They broke apart, both wiping away tears. There was sniffling from the staff too.
“You all know I’m ill.” Mama looked around. “I know it too. Let’s not pretend anymore, okay?”
Chef Lutian came over and gave her a hug and the rest of the crew followed. They all loved her. Nodding and wiping away tears, they all slowly went back to their work. Alex’s phone rang, but he declined the call. Noticing it, Mama put a hand on his arm.
“Is everything okay? Was that David? Or was it Enrico? He seems like a nice boy.” Joining the prep cooks, she helped them chop onions.
Get it over with, he told himself. “That’s my boss. She asked me to come back to New York a little sooner.”
“But you said you were here until the first.”
Alex pulled a stool over for her. She gave him a sharp eye, so he sat on it.
“Things changed.”
“Oh, Alex, what now?” She frowned at him as she scooped onion into a small Cambro.
“Mama, it’s after the party and only until New Years. Then I’ll come back for a longer visit.”
“And what about Christmas?” Taking a peeled onion from the cook next to her, she began chopping it, the routine mechanical after all these years.
He waved a hand in the air. “I don’t care about Christmas.”
She nodded sadly. “I know. Is the party set?” Dumping the onion in the container, she reached for the cellophane.
Alex chuckled. “Yes, Mamá, the Christmas party’s set. There are a few little touches left, but nothing major.” Just the Christmas tree.
“That’s good. Thank you for doing this. But what about David and little Eric? They’ll be disappointed if you aren’t here for Christmas.” Covering the Cambro in plastic wrap, she set it aside.
He shrugged. She tried to pull him into another hug, but he backed away. “I need to get to the theater.”
Leaving the restaurant, he drove to the Orpheum. The interior decorating was complete, but the outside was still bare. He spent several hours hanging garland and lights around the exterior until the cold got the best of him.
He couldn’t get that kiss with David at the cemetery out of his mind. Warm and passionate and everything he wanted. Just call him, he told himself.
Back at his house by mid-afternoon, he took Max on a long walk around the neighborhood. Rounding the corner and back onto his own street, he looked up to find Uncle Felix waiting for him. He sat in one of two new chairs on the front porch.
Alex let the leash loose and Max ran to Papa. While his uncle pet the dog, he discarded the poop bag in the trash can in a small fence enclosu
re off the driveway.
“Tiyo, why are you sitting out in the cold?”
Papa patted an arm of his chair. “I got these out of storage. They’re from our old house on Elm. You like?”
“I do, thank you, but what brings you here?” He climbed the stairs.
“Let’s get warm.” The older man gestured to the door.
Uncle Felix made himself at home in front of the fireplace. The living room was piping hot from the blaze Alex started earlier. When he moved in, he found a new gas fireplace instead of the old wood-burning one. His father must have put it in after he left.
Alex walked in with coffee. Handing one to his uncle, he sat in the chair nearest to him.
“Look at this.” Papa handed him a bright-blue box.
Opening it, he found a silver necklace with a single pearl. “She’ll love it.” He passed it back to the older man, happy he was still buying her gifts. She deserved nothing less.
“It feels like it could be home.” Papa glanced around the room. “You’ve done a good job fixing it up. I love the photos.” He pointed to the pictures of Alex, David, and Eric from the other night. They hung on the wall with several from his childhood.
“You know, when I left, I never considered coming back for one moment. To visit, maybe, but to live? Never.”
“And now?”
“Now, I am not sure I can leave.” Sitting forward, Alex set his cup on the coffee table.
Papa leaned over. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“I have a job and a home in New York.” Patting his uncle’s hand, he sat back.
“You can get a job anywhere, and home is where the heart is.” The older man took a sip of his coffee. Alex smiled. He’d heard his uncle say that his entire life. Papa held a hand over his chest. “Where is your heart?”
“It’s not that easy. I’m not going to stay here for David unless there’s a future for us. It’s ungrateful to you, I know, but I don’t want to stay here without him.”
“I didn’t mention David, but it tells me where your heart is at. Have you told him?” Papa patted his arm.
“No, we’re . . . taking a break, I guess?” He ran a hand over his face.
Papa’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”