Alex (9 page)
Ian winced.
Mom, god.
"I won't call her unless you want me to, just in case.
But anyway, I think it's gonna be at three.
Let me know if you're gonna bring anything.
You don't have to, but you can if you want.
Give me a call.
I haven't talked to you in a long time.
I love you, honey."
"
End of message."
He erased it.
"
Second.
New message.
Left?
Yesterday, at nine.
Eleven.
PM.
From ALIHNUH KOL-MES."
The phone was still sitting on the table, on speaker mode.
Ian paused on his way to the kitchen, turned toward it.
Click.
"End of message."
He woke around four in the morning and stumbled into the bathroom to pee.
Alex was on the toilet already, his pants and underwear in a crushed jumble on the floor.
"Sorry I scared you, Daddy."
He sounded resigned, but reticent.
"I only didn't think you could hear me.
So that's why I yelled so loud."
That's okay, pal.
When he was three and four, Alex had needed help cleaning up after using the toilet.
He hadn't mastered that skill until he turned five.
It's hard to hear you from downstairs.
Next time I'll stay up here.
"Okay.
Will you wipe my butt now?"
Alex hopped down to the floor, and was gone.
Ian flipped the light on, still bleary and unsteady.
"That's okay, Alex," Ian said to the empty room.
"No more hide and seek, okay?"
On Monday he filled out the online application for the job Justin had sent him.
It wanted him to attach a résumé.
He crafted one between calls.
Billi caught him working on it.
"You bailing on us?"
"Trying," Ian said.
She lowered her voice.
"Where you applying?"
"Just the senior job on Kate's team."
"
Oh.
I thought you were applying
elsewhere.
"
She gestured at the wall.
"Nah.
I need a reference though, can I put you down?"
"Sure.
You'll like it.
It beats being on the phones.
You only have to talk to the real jackasses."
A grin.
"What a treat."
He matched her tone.
"Mainly I just want to get away from..."
She caught his nod toward Sheila, answered with a nod of her own.
"Just don't mention that as your main reason in the interview."
"Nope, I know."
"You'd be good at it.
Kate's less of a stickler on the whole time thing.
I'll put in the good word."
He was coming in late nearly every morning, had trouble lately keeping his temper with his coworkers and sometimes with callers, but Billi would put in the good word.
"Why?"
The word took him by surprise; it hung in the air like he'd just coughed up a fur ball.
Billi looked at him.
"Why... will I put in the good word?"
He felt like an idiot, wished he'd kept his mouth shut.
"Never mind."
She scoffed.
"Ian, come on.
You can't mean that.
You're fantastic."
It had been so long since he heard praise, he wondered at first if she was mocking him.
His skepticism must've shown, because she said, "You get the right answers, the first time.
You hardly ever ask me for help.
You don't need it.
Everybody's comfortable coming to you, you don't put anyone down, you're easy to understand and approachable."
"I'm late every goddamn morning and I feel like I'm sniping at everybody all the time."
Billi shrugged.
"You snipe at Sheila, maybe, but she deserves it.
Jorge was telling me the other day he didn't know what he'd do if you weren't here for him to bug."
He must've still looked confused, because she went on.
"Look.
You are going through things none of us can even comprehend.
But you're still one of the best people working here.
So you're coming in late.
So what?
You never used to.
You'll get there again.
"You just can't rush something like this."
At lunch he drove to Burger King and ate in the parking lot with the engine off.
On the way back he called his mom and confirmed that he'd be coming to Thanksgiving.
"Okay.
Do you want me to call Alina?"
Ian sighed.
"No.
If she wants to come I'll call her."
"Are you sure?
I don't mind -"
"Mom, I don't want you to call my estranged wife and invite her to Thanksgiving.
Please.
I'm seeing her every Wednesday and I'll talk to her about it then."
"She's still married to you, and she's still part of the family.
You two are good for each other.
I know what happened was terrible, Ian, but don't let it ruin your marriage."
"Thank you.
That's a great idea.
I'll keep it in mind."
A stung silence.
God dammit.
"Mom, I'm not trying to be mean.
But really, you don't think I've thought of that?
She's my wife, I love her.
Yes.
I think she still loves me, okay.
But we can't just pretend like nothing's happened.
That's not...
I'm not gonna do that."
"All right.
I'm not trying to nag."
"I know."
In the rearview mirror, Ian saw Alex in his booster.
He was looking out the window and kicking the back of Ian's seat.
"I just want you to be happy."
Thump.
Thump.
Like a squirrel jumping across his back.
He twisted around.
Alex smiled and waved at him.
"You know?"
Mom said.
He faced forward again, slammed on the brakes as he nearly ran a red light.
"Ian?"
"Yup, okay.
Bye, Mom."
He fumbled at the End Call button.
"Dad, what's that
noise?
" Alex screamed.
Ian flinched.
His phone tumbled between the seats.
"Alex, please don't -"
"Dad, what's that
noise?
" he yelled again, louder.
"I don't - what noise?
What are you -"
"Dad, what's that
NOISE?
" Alex shrieked, and Ian whipped around in his seat.
"Alex, goddammit, not right now!
Not right now!
"
The car behind him laid into its horn.
The light was green.
He lurched an arm toward the back seat, flailing toward Alex, but couldn't quite reach him.
Another honk screeched.
He started across the intersection as Alex screamed again.
He turned on the radio, blasted some classic Metallica until he couldn't hear him anymore.
At the office, he left Alex in the car and ran inside.
Four times that afternoon he put himself into
After Call Work
to stop the calls for a minute, and went out to make sure his car was empty.
When he went to the bathroom, he expected to find Alex on the toilet.
When he came back to his desk, he expected to find him playing in the chair.
He got home as the sun set.
To delay going into the house, he detoured and got the mail.
The box was nearly overflowing.
He grabbed it all, stuffed it under his arm, and went inside.
Flipped the light on right away.
Went into the dining room and tossed the mail on the table, where it splayed out like a bug splatting on a windshield.
The mortgage bill.
The Visa bill.
The other Visa bill.
DELINQUENT, the last envelope admonished, in case he'd forgotten.
He snapped up the mortgage bill and ripped it open.
He hadn't been able to make a full payment last month, and the balance had carried over.
Alina had said she'd keep contributing to the house payments, but he didn't want to bug her with it.
That's all I fucking need, is to call her asking for money.
He tossed the bill back on the table, with no idea how he was going to pay it.
It knocked aside another envelope, and suddenly, Alex's face smiled at him from a mailer.
MISSING SINCE MARCH,
the caption said.
LAST SEEN IN
HOPKINS
.
Another boy's face was next to his son's.
Edward Jameson, missing since September.
And next to that, Silvia Kalen, missing since April.
There were three more on the other side.
He remembered, all at once, how bleak it had felt to see his son's face on that piece of paper for the first time.
The boy was dead now, but Ian still had to endure his picture -
He grabbed the mailer and punched out the number on it.
A live voice answered.
"Hi, I just received your mailer.
It shows a picture of Alex Colmes.
I'm his father.
He died six months ago.
Please take his picture off."
The voice said he'd look into it.
"Please do.
Please.
I can't keep seeing his face every time I come home and get the mail.
There's been some kind of mistake."
Of course.
The voice assured him if there was a mistake, they would fix it.
Ian hung up.
He went to the counseling session Wednesday night.
He didn't see Alina outside, but when he got to the gym she was there, sitting in the same place as last week, her coat on her lap.
The group talked mostly about their feelings for their kids that night: how much they loved them, how much they missed them, how much their lives had been changed by them.
He spoke when Shauna dragged something out of him, but kept his tongue the rest of the time.
He didn't want to piss Alina off again, but more than that...
"Love" was not a strong enough word to describe how he felt about his son.
"Miss" didn't begin to describe the hole the boy's murder had left in his life.
He couldn't talk about those ideas like they were just words.
They were too much more than that.
"I didn't even know there was a feeling like this,"
Ian had told Alina one night as he held the sleeping baby.
Alex's heartbeat was warm and trembling against Ian's chest.
"I don't just love him.
I've
fallen
for him.
I'm infatuated.
I mean, you know... it's platonic, obviously.
But it's more like when I fell in love with you, than anything."
His effort to explain himself was pathetically inarticulate, but Alina had smiled at him anyway.