The Devil's Elixir

5

SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA

As the door swung open, my heart froze.

Not in a bad way. It froze in an oh-my-god, paralyzed-from-sensory-overload kind of way. The good kind of sensory overload.

She still had it. The smooth, honey-hued skin. The delicate dusting of freckles across her thin nose and sculpted cheeks. The dazzling blue eyes, windows into the cauldron of intelligence and mischief within. The body, curvy and taut, that could make Hugh Hefner’s head spin. It was all just as I remembered it.

But that wasn’t what froze my heart.

What did it was the four-year-old boy standing quietly by her side, holding onto her hand tightly and staring up at me.

The sight of him made me forget to breathe.

When Michelle had said that Alex was four, I hadn’t quite realized just how tiny a four-year-old was. How tiny, and how fragile. I just hadn’t been around many kids of that age. I didn’t have any nieces or nephews, Kim was around ten when I first hooked up with Tess, and, aside from Aparo, I wasn’t socially close to any of the people I worked with, some of whom had young kids. Hence the shock and awe rolling through me. And right there and then, standing in that bland and uninspiring hotel hallway, my heart soared as it never had before. I just knew that Alex was mine.

“You gonna just stand there like a burro, or you gonna give me a hug?” Michelle asked.

I dragged my eyes away from Alex and up to hers. Despite the apparent bravado, there was a smoldering fear in her eyes. It was subtle, barely there, and not everyone would have spotted it, but I did. I smiled, took her by the shoulders and pulled her closer, and gave her a kiss, a slightly awkward one that wasn’t quite on the lips but wasn’t on the cheeks either. Her arms slid up and she hugged me, tight, burying her head in the crook of my neck.

I’m not gonna lie to you, and don’t hate me for saying it, but right there and then, it felt great. Awkward, yes—but great.

Then I felt the shivering and any notion of “great” vaporized.

We stood there for a long moment, breathing each other in, a riptide of confusing emotions tugging at us, an unfinished past colliding with a brutal present, standing there in silence, stretching out the enjoyable part of our encounter, knowing the real reason for us being there, together again, would soon take over. Then we pulled back, holding each other’s eyes in a silent commemoration of what we’d once had until Michelle turned and, palms out, game show hostess–like, gestured at her son.

“So . . . this is Alex,” she said, her face a mix of pride, unease, and pain.

I glanced back down at the boy, who was staring at me uncertainly, and something twisted inside me. Alex’s eyes were wide with what I suddenly realized was more than just uncertainty. It was fear. I bent down to say hi to him, but as I did, Alex shrunk back and tucked himself in behind his mother’s thigh, hugging it tightly while burying his head into it.

“No,” he pleaded in a small voice.

Michelle swiveled her head around to him.

“Alex, what’s wrong?”

The kid didn’t say anything. He was still cowering behind her leg, not looking out.

I looked a question at Michelle. She turned and crouched down and pulled Alex out from behind her, but he resisted and screamed, “No,” again.

“Alex, stop it.” Her tone was even, but firm.

“No, Mommy, no,” the boy whimpered.

“Meesh, it’s okay,” I offered.

Michelle ignored my plea. “Alex, stop,” she insisted, firmer now, but still calm. “This is my friend, Sean. Now would you please stop being silly and say hi to him. He’s here to help us.”

The boy glanced up at me, then ducked back out of sight and tucked himself away even more. He was trembling visibly.

“It’s all right,” I told her, raising my hands in a calming motion. “He’s been through a hell of a lot today.”

Michelle studied Alex for a second, then hugged him against her and nodded. “I know, but . . . I don’t know what’s got into him. He’s usually really friendly, and I thought that, at least, with you here . . .” She let the words drift off, clearly flustered and frustrated.

“Given what you’ve both been through today . . . Maybe it’s not a bad thing for him to be wary of strangers.”

“I guess,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s just that . . . He’s been having nightmares and, well, it’s . . . complicated.” She looked up at me with real hurt in her eyes, and I suspected that, despite everything she’d been through today, she probably felt awful about my first get-together with Alex turning out this way. “God, I’m really sorry. It’s nothing to do with you, you know that, right?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

I got down on one knee so my face was almost level with his, and extended a hand. “Hey, Alex. It’s really great to meet you.”

After a long second, the kid peeked nervously at me, then shut his eyes tight and shrank back behind his mother.

I glanced at Michelle. She was watching intently, and the heaviness in her heart was clear. She gave me a look of exasperation and apology. I gave her a soft nod. At least Alex and I had now met, even in these circumstances. It was only a minuscule step, but it was still a major one, for all three of us. There was still a long and, I’m sure, bumpy trail to travel, a lot of lost time to make up—and a lot of tough decisions to make.

“You’d better come on in,” she told me.

I stepped in and saw her glance warily down both ends of the hall before locking the door behind me.