Just a casual note of warning. This part's going to delve into Liz's past. The reasons why her marriage failed will feature. Zan will make an entrance. Liz is not perfect; she's her faults. Zan's hardly perfect, Max falls in this category too. They'll all be here.
And Alex. Think Toy House. His reasons are the same, even more so, since he doesn't himself know what he is.
Now that I've pretty much revealed everything in the part,
I'll go.Chapter 10
I lay on my lawn chair, clutching my journal to my chest. How many times had I envisioned writing that exact moment? I lost track. How many times have I imagined that one moment, that perfect moment, when Max would kiss me?
And now that it’s actually happened, I have no words to describe it with. It was that pathetic. A non-kiss. I’d shared more with Kyle, for God’s sake!
My mind went back to my blackout. Maybe, it had been a long kiss. Maybe the blackout had made me loose my head. But no, Maria had told me how appalled she’d been at the brevity of it all.
“You’d think he’d have enough balls to kiss you properly! Jeez, what a wuss! No wonder you went for Zan!”
I, for one, agreed with her. It’s true. It was just that sort of intentional holding back that he’d done all the time before, that had made my blood pound sand.
I flipped over a few entries. Gah, how childish! But even now, I could just close my eyes and reincarnate the perfect kiss.
Him: Come here, Liz.
Me: Why? I don’t want to frighten you. (As if!)
Him: You don’t frighten me. My feelings for you do. There are times… (He trails off as if he was unburdening his soul.)
Me: (supportive and compassionate, as always) Tell me. I’ve got all the time in the world.
Him: All the time in the world for what?
Huh? But that’s not in the script!
Me : No, no. You’re supposed to say “thank you,”
Him: Thank you. (very obligingly. And then he does it again.) For what?
Me : For just being me, silly.
Him : ( he smiles, just the way he’s supposed.) You’re right, I do thank you for that.
Me: (that’s better!!) You’re entirely welcome. So, what do you say…(I let it hang on temptingly)
Him: What do I say to what?
Me: Haha! Max, you’re such a …
Him: (amused. Why, me wonders? He’s supposed to be serious here) I’m such a what?
Me: tease.
Him: (REALLY amused) Yeah?
No, no this is all wrong! He isn’t supposed to take it as a joke!
I blinked my eyes.
“Yarrgh!!”
He was really there, grinning at me.
“What the…”
“Now, what was I again?”
“Fiction. I’m writing a novel.” I bleated, feeling like Jerry being chased hither thither by Tom.
“Really?" He didn’t buy it. “Since when?”
“Since today.” I crunched back. “And it’s not exactly a novel. More like a guide. You know, self-help and all that?”
He sat down on the ledge. “Yeah? What are you such an expert on?”
I looked him dead in the eye. “Something you seem to be lacking considerably in. Kissing.”
He had the grace to blush. “Oh, er, well….”
“Yeah, that and a hundred other exclamations…” I sighed. "What the hell were you so scared of? People talking?”
He seemed flustered. “People will talk, you know.”
“About me! And I can handle it!”
“Yeah, well. Instincts, you know. Hard to suppress.”
“What’re you, scared of girls??” I snorted.
“No, dumbass. Scared for your rep.”
“Would you give it a break! I’m not your child, Max!”
“I know.” He sounded resigned.
I felt hugely cheated. I loved this guy. And I knew that he, in his own emotionally retarded way, cared for me too. So why this nonsense? It wasn’t like we’d never flirted before! So, we just went a little further this time! What the fuck’s the big deal?
“Max,” I told him, rigidly emphasizing my words. “If you didn’t want to kiss me, all you had to do was walk away. It’s not fair that after doing it, you’re putting it on thick. It’s not fair at all.”
“I know. And who said I was afraid of kissing you, anyway? What’re you, an amateur shrink?” He threw back, looking about for balance. I had a wild urge to kick him off the balcony.
"Yeah? You know, huh? Then care to explain why you looked like I’d suggested we strip in front of all those people! You’re nothing but a prude!”
“I did not!” he looked appalled at the suggestion. “God, you make it sound like I’m scared of women, for god’s sake!”
“Now you get it!! That’s exactly they way you behaved!”
“Ok, ok, I apologize. Let’s go back there and give them something to remember!” he blurted out, looking like he was at his wit’s end. Who is this stranger? And where is my calm, unflappable Max?
“No need.” I grated out. There was a minute’s silence as we scratched our head simultaneously, trying to find a way out of this mortifying subject.
He came up with one. “So, how is the search for a doctor going?”
I shrugged. “Dunno. I was waiting for you.”
He raised his eyebrows.
I sighed irritably. “For the names!”
He does the weird thing with his eyes again; hand rubbing his stubble, and my heart does the funny Highland fling thing. “Sure, Liz.”
“Well?” I demanded querulously. "Did you have anything else in mind? Come now, don’t be shy!!” He tried to hide his grin. “I won’t kill you for speaking your mind.” God, I’d started babbling. All Maria’s fault. Her and her stupid cedar oil and her stupid, stupid ideas!
He closed the distance between us;. Suddenly, my roomy balcony had shrunk to the size of a shoebox. We were alone, deserted and he was awfully close. Maybe the day wouldn’t be a total waste after all.
I gulped as he continued watching me. “Well??”
“So about your book…” he smiled knowingly at the telltale blush.
“What about it?”
“Nothing. Just that if you need someone to experiment upon…” he left it off hanging.
Oh no, you don’t!! “You’re volunteering??” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of my tone.
He looked injured. “Liz! Just because I’m no good at it doesn’t mean I can’t learn! Where does it say that, huh? And you need to work with someone um…willing.”
I choked. Willing. Is he serious???
“No need to put yourself out. I’m sure there’re plenty of other willing men around. Men who aren’t scared of non-kisses.”
He slung an arm around me. I reveled in his scent. I’d visions of a very delectable, very willing Max in my arms. Yum!
“Not at all, not at all. I’m sure it would prove quite interesting. As you know, it’s summer vacation, even for me, and I was looking forward to…uh…taking chances. Discovering...” he grinned at my scarlet face, “unknown territory.”
I gulped. Golly. Unknown territory. What the fuck was he doing, reading my mind?
“Are you up for that?” I made sure I convey the right amount anxiety I felt over this new venture. Flirting a little bit, softening me up and then leaving me in the lurch is not something I’m going to tolerate anymore, sonny boy! And you better know it.
“I trust you. I know I’m in good hands.” He returned rather solemnly.
I think we both reached a new level in our quasi-relationship. I could tell how much it cost Max to finally start tearing down the walls. And he could tell that this moment wasn’t easy for me either. What he didn’t know was that I’d waited for it for almost forever. Hah!
“Deal.” I shook his proffered hand. There was a feral look in his eyes that made me doubt the sanity of this plan but what the hell, it was Max. Somehow, it’d be all right.
He hauled me up to my feet. “Where’s the boy?”
I smiled. Max just never changed. “Watching cartoons.”
He returned it nostalgically. “He’s a wonderful kid.”
Tears stung at his proud tone. ‘He owes much of it to you. You’ve been terrific with him.”
There was a bittersweet taste in his words. “I should be. He deserves it. And more. And so much more…” he trailed off. What was he talking about? I hope to God he doesn’t bring up Zan now.
“Huh?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. Alex is a wonderful child. He reminds of Whitman every day.”
I fought back the lump in my throat. Funny, dry-witted Alex with his dodge-ball soirées and undying loyalty.
“Give me a hug.” I whispered, holding my arms open.
He didn’t hesitate. He cradled my head against his chest and brushed his fingers through my hair. I fought back another lump. I knew, for certain, why I’d come back here.
~~/\~~
Max and I’d overcome the first hurdle one night when he’d called NY. It was the second year of my marriage and the call had come through just as we’d finally dozed off. Zan, being typically him, had turned over and gone back to snoring his head off. Cursing, I’d answered the phone. Only to hear his stammered apologies and a host of other emotions.
As if he could feel the change in me, Zan had woken up and taken the phone. Of course, Max hadn’t called for me. He’d had some business with Zan and neither of them had ever told me why my husband had tersely hung up and left in the middle of the night. That had been the start of his disappearances.
Someone would call. He’d leave. It was the same cycle and no amount of tears, rants and reasoning had loosened his metal-studded tongue. I’d done my damnedest, but he’d been a stone wall. No comments, not even a reaction to my hysterics. After a while, I’d given up, sure that my marriage was over.
But it hadn’t been. While he’d been around, he’d take care of me, in his own way, and I’d push away the memories of endless nights of being worried sick. Until it started all over again.
Max had dropped by suddenly, his first visit ever to NY, he’d later said. Zan had been away, again and I’d just about resigned myself to his vagabond existence when the phone rang, with Max troubled on the other end and wanting to come up. My head had whirled. I took it for granted that it was bad news.
Then the buzzer had screeched and I’d fumbled with the locks in my haste, desperate. And all of a sudden, it was open and he’d taken one look at my ashen face (I was too shocked to primp) and gathered me in his arms. And I’d broken down for good. I’d wailed about how Zan would leave me and just disappear and how much it terrified me that he wasn’t coming back. Between loud sobs, I’d demanded an answer about my husband’s whereabouts, not even cringing at fact that I was supposed to know, not him.
He’d petted and humored me for a while, joking that me, Liz Parker, Queen Extraordinaire of self-control, would break down in a stranger’s arms. And that’s when it had hit me. We were strangers. I didn’t know what his favorite cologne was. I didn’t know if he liked cheese or detested it. I didn’t know why he’d always live his life looking over his shoulder. As far as I was concerned Max Evans and I were utter and complete strangers.
That little epiphany had turned into a quest. That quest finally became my lifeline. Letters, emails, phone calls, all treasured and analyzed for days afterwards, were my links to normalcy. Which was ironic, considering that back in Roswell, we’d been just lab partners and a little more.
After that initial visit, he’d come to NY a little more, almost all the times when Zan wasn’t around. I’d joked about his timing, questioned his motives. But he’d never said a word.
Nope, it was all black and white. I was his cousin’s wife and he was there for same oblique purpose but not one of them was to seduce me. It was only in later years, after I’d started reading him well, that I’d figured out why Max would come around.
He had been worried sick about me. Little things, like his hand trembling from exhaustion as he made coffee in the middle of the night, the haggard circles under his red-rimmed eyes trying to blink back unimaginable stress told me that this was no coincidental visit, but rather, a surveillance.
I hadn’t taken it well. I’d accused both of them of illegal activities and what not, almost everything I could find under the moon, but they hadn’t talked. Not once. It was as if they had some secret agenda, an agenda where I had no part and they made it clear they didn’t like my interference.
And then my problems with Zan grew. I’d wanted to love him the way I’d vowed to. Day after day, I found it slipping away from my grasp, till it was a mere shadow, a wisp of a dream that I might’ve once had. It was impossible to really love Zan, the way I wanted to, with my being and all that I was. It was never destined to be that way at all.
On the other hand, I felt myself connect with Max, in every level we knew how, except maybe, physically. I could tell what he was thinking before he’d realize it. I’d feel what he was feeling with just a look. It terrified me at times. I’d keep awake the whole night, wondering about him, just like still older times. I knew it was getting out of control. I’d been in love with him once and the annoying feeling, like it had never really gone away, returned with a vengeance.
His genuine concern for me didn’t help.
I refused to let myself think that way. For some time, around the fifth year of my marriage to Zan, I stopped seeing Max. If he’d come by, I’d find an excuse and leave. I’d run out on him and Zan and everything else, just to make sure I wouldn’t grab him by the collar and kiss the living daylights out of him. I didn’t want to feel that way; I was married, for Crissakes! But the more I stayed away, the stronger the pull became. I’d lock myself in the bathroom when he’d come and tremble away the need that seemed to roil through me.
It became much worse when it hurt him. I’d see him withdrawing, putting his impenetrable walls higher. Max would stay away, longer each time till, cursing, I’d call him up. And he’d make monosyllabic responses. I’d want to kill him but then he’d end it with in his usual way – a rare collection of haikus (which were my then-faves), research materials on things I’d never even heard about, exotic things from his trips all over the world. And then, once again, he’d shut himself off. And it made me want him all the more. I was like an addict; craving things which was destroying me and all that I held sacred. Or so I thought.
It made me furious that Zan wouldn’t even stop me. Of course he could tell! He’d told me so, too. Once, after another blazing fight, he told me. I’d been ranting at his lack of effort, his silence that broke down any sort of defense I’d build to withstand it, his supreme indifference.
I’d been driven to the edge, one night when he’d been packing again. Taking the little pot of bonsai that I’d cultivated so lovingly (a gift from Max), I’d placed it near his feet. For only a second, he’d paused.
“Step on it!” I’d demanded, a hair’s breadth of losing my mind.
“Why?” he’d asked blandly, crudely. “Isn’t that a gift from Max?”
That had told me all there was to know. Still, I’d persisted. I’d been ready that day, to forget all about Max (or at least try to) if Zan would just voice the tiniest objection.
“Step on it! Smash it up, break it! It’s what you do best!” I’d screamed, almost mad with frustration.
He’d looked at me calmly. He wasn’t going to do it. Of course not. He’d keep himself surrounded by Max’s gifts to me and he’d never edge out one word of recrimination. He’d continue to make me feel like a whore, even though I’d done nothing.
“You see? You’d show more feelings for a stupid plant that to your own wife! You wouldn’t take the time to notice the first change in me but a houseplant took up more time than that! How much more do you thi....”
And before I’d completed it, he’d already smashed his feet down. My poor bonsai lay there, crushed underneath his feet, just the way my will did, at times. He looked up at me; obedient, obliging. It had been obscene. And at that, I’d made up my mind.
I’d gone with him because he’d offered me something no one in Roswell ever had. It had been a life. But after 6 years of living with him, I’d realized that he’d taken the one thing from me that I’d never wanted to give in the first place, never had fully trusted him to do the right thing by it. I‘d made him responsible for my happiness, for my peace of mind. Call me conventional but I’d taken those vows seriously. And that had been my biggest mistake.
The day I’d seen Zan interact with Max, I’d figured that he was ruthless. He was. He held some intangible thing over Max’s head, over all their heads, and then he enjoyed it while he broke them. And he had. Over the years, I’d find out its and bits form either Maria or Max, just little harmless nuances that told me tons.
Isabel’s almost wedding, for one. For some reason, he’d done about everything he could possibly do to ensure that it didn’t happen. He’d played Max against Isabel, Michael agianst Max, Isabel against both Max and Michael and finally, even to the point of supporting the marriage, even though he knew it would never work. He kept doing it till they were all so confused, they dropped it. I found out in the hard way, when I’d gone to an empty church.
I’d later called Zan up and thrashed the dylights out of him verbally, but that was him.
As I’d stumbled on the bed, my legs unable to support me, the fool that I’d been made at his hands; I’d told him.
“We’re through, Zan. I can’t keep doing this to myself anymore.”
I knew he’d let me. He’d turn to me with another blank expression and tell me that it was my wish what I wanted to do. And then he’d let slip Max’s name, making my totally justified comment drown in guilt and shame. That was Zan. I wish I’d known that sooner.
But this time, I'd been serious. I didn’t care about falling; I already had. It was time to cut my losses. I’d sat there, waiting for his acerbic words.
They never came.
For the umpteenth time, I’d underestimated him. Just when I thought I’d gotten it all out, found a stronghold, he’d do it again; lure me back in, almost against my will.
“Don’t even think about leaving.” He’d said.
I’d been speechless.
He’d come a step closer, callously stepping over the mangled plant. His face had been indescribable. For the first time in my marriage, I’d seen him out of control and oddly vulnerable.
“You’re not walking out on me now. Not when I need you.”
I’d been too blown away to deal with the fact that he’d finally admitted to needing me in his worthless existence to realize that once again, I’d done exactly what he’d wanted. No, that realization had come years later. When I’d discovered that he’d lied about needing me, too.
“Zan. You don’t need me. You never did.”
“Don’t presume to know what I am.” He’d used that tone again, one that provoked a killing rage at his intolerable arrogance.
“Why the fucking hell not? I’m your wife or do you conveniently forget that, too?”
He’d bent down over me and for a moment, I’d been scared for my life. For an immeasurable moment, we’d stared each other down, neither wanting to be the one to lose the fight.
I’d been sure I’d wear down. I’d already been at the end of my tether; last thing I could deal with was another battle with Zan. And he’d never been known for fair play.
And then he’d done the oddest thing. He’d taken my face in his rough palms, held it up. For once, he was laid out in front me like a mirror into his past. It was as if he’d been trying to tell me something. Something, I knew, was the key to him. And as the tide invariably comes roaring in, he’d let go.
“Do you see?” There’d been desperation in him that I’d never seen before.
I’d just shaken my head. I didn’t see. I never would. Looking through Zan was like looking through black ice. Every thing frozen solid and opaque.
And he’d done another un-Zan like thing – he’d waited. He’d waited for me to make up my mind, for me to finally open up. But just like he couldn’t, I couldn’t any more. There’d been a time when talking to Zan was like taking a drug – mellowing, explosive and always challenging. Over the years it had turned into silence. A silence that I just didn’t know how to break anymore.
I’d waited for him to ask about Max. He hadn’t. Instead, he’d hugged me close to him. And even then, I couldn’t repress the instinctive need to move away. He’d held me back. For once, he’d been unable to let me go and for the moment, that had been enough.
“Talk to me.” he’d said after a while, making sure that I was still awake. I’d been awake. Sleep had been a long time in coming that night. I’d had no words. But I hadn’t left and he’d stopped packing. He didn’t attempt to make love that night as a consolation prize and I’d never been more grateful for that.
He didn’t leave me for the entire week. For that week, we’d been thrown another life-jacket and for then, it had been exactly what we’d needed. Now, I’m not some sort of vamp who needs a guy to cling to her but the fact that it was Zan, He-Man himself, claiming to need me and staying back from his precious job for a week to keep an eye out on me, had sent me to tailspins. For five days, I’d been a cherished wife and I’d realized how much I loved that feeling. And I’d wanted to keep feeling that way. Only Zan had to go spoil it by leaving without even telling me. He’d vanished for a month. I’d bought him a shroud.
Like every thing else in my life I’d dissect to million pieces, that incident didn’t escape similar torture. I’d remembered and re-examined it again and again for the next four years, reminding myself that despite everything that had gone down between us, Zan had needed me in his life, that he was all alone in the world and that if push came to a shove, Max would pick me over him any day. I’d been tempted to ask myself who I’d chose but I’d already known the answer. I’d choose Max, too.
And that had fed into my paranoia of leaving Zan. He didn’t have anyone on his side, no one, and I couldn’t abandon him. Because, naïve little me had always believed that one line he’d fed me. Of course that one had all come crashing down on me when I’d realized that he had abandoned me.
“Mom?”
I broke out of my reverie. To my horror, I felt the salt on my lips. Damn!
“Alex?” I grouched, voice still bitter.
“Mom, come inside.” Another whiner. Hee. At least Alex wasn’t like either of them in this case. He’d tell me what was on his mind. And he did it often. It made my world brighter.
“You feeling lonely, son?” I poked my head around my sill. He was sitting on the ledge, trying to balance a ping-pong ball on his big toe. I applauded as it stayed on.
“What else did you when you were a kid?’ he asked, bored with his excellent balancing prowess.
“Show-off!” I give a faux scowl and that thrilled him no end.
“Well, we did stuff.” I said vaguely. Hell, it’s not like I still remember them!
“What kinda stuff?”
“What kind of stuff.” I automatically correct him, even though I’d given up a long time ago.
“Whatever!” he huffed. “Mooom!”
“What?” Another huge huff followed. “Okay, here’s the thing.” I stood up, dragged Alex on to my lap. It had been years since I carried him around.
“Mom!” this time, he struggled to get away for real.
“Shush. You’re my baby! If I carry you aroud, I bloody well have a right to!”
“People will see!!' he stated, looking desperately around for any lurking souls. No one. Just me, my kid and the Roswell ngiht.
I watched for aliens. I remembered. I told Alex so. Surprisingly, he settled down quickly after that.
In my mind’s eye, I saw him squatting on my kitchen floor with Max and talking about silver gunk. It just made me that much more assured that we needed to talk.
My old telescope was still there.
Settling down with Alex squirming in my arms, I peeked through the rusty lenses and took in the familiar heavens. It was amazing – I’d seen stars every single night away from roswell and yet, here it felt like a calling.
“That’s the Big Bear.” I told him, pointing at Orion.
“Mom,” He made an impatient gesture. "That’s Orion.”
I pinched his fat cheek. “I know. I was just testing you.”
He chortled. “No you weren’t!”
“Enough! That one!”
I pointed at another one, the very mysterious V formation that had always been there. Which was abnormal because no science book in the world had ever given it a proper name, I sometimes wondered if it was something I’d dreamt up, a figment of the cosmos that got stuck in my imagination.
“Antar.” He said it without hesitation
“Yeah and that one’s Aurora!’"I laughed, pointing at a cactus.
He looked at me, annoyed. “Mom!”
“Hun, it doesn’t have a name.” I explained patiently
“Says who?” he sulked.
“Says your mother.”
Silence reigned. I wasn’t used to being defied by him. He wasn’t used to me pulling rank.
Ok, how to broach the subject? “Alex…did I ever tell you who I named you after?”
He was still pouting. “Alex Charlie Whitman. I remember.”
“Charles. No one called him Charlie. He was just Alex. Dear, sweet, goofy Alex.” Again, I felt the tears surge. It was frustrating to be unable to think without getting the past muddled up in it every single second.
Alex cuddled my stomach. “Mom, do I look like him?”
At that, I had to laugh. “No, baby. You can’t look like him. You can only look like your Mom and Dad.”
His eyes widened. “Why not like Uncle Alex?”
Because he didn’t get me pregnant! "Um, biology. You’ll understand when you grow up.”
“You can tell me, Mom.” And he looked like he really meant it. Eyes solemn, hair mussed up, another hand resting trustingly in mine. It was hard to believe that I had a son while I sat on my old balcony.
“I know. Alex...” I started again. I wished I’d asked Max about what to say.
He beat me to it. “Mom, where’s Dad?”
Every single parent’s worst nightmare.
“He’s gone.”
“Is he…is he dead?” There was a soft quaver in his voice.
I wish I knew. “I don’t know.”
“You mean, we’ll never see him again?”
I rumpled his hair, wondering why every parent had to go through this torture. And why can’t I make Zan sound like the bastard he is?
“I don’t think so, no.”
“Did he love me?” A definite quaver.
A white lie would suffice. Zan was never coming back so there was no chance of him ever knowing.
“He loved you.”
“Don’t worry, Mom. I love you the most.”
Sigh, the joys of having a child. A few words and I melt like butter. Gotta be careful in his teens. “ I love you more than anything else in the world. You know that, right?’
He snuggled back. “I know.”
“And we’re best friends right, since Dante and Reaz are not here?”
He nodded, depressed again. “Yeah.”
“And, I don’t have any best friends either. So we’re stuck. With each other.” I nodded for further clarification.
“Mom…” he rolled his eyes. “You’ve got Auntie ‘Ria, Uncle Michael, Max, uncle Kyle….”
I geddit! “Right now.” I emphasized. Jeez!
"Ok. So whatcha wanna talk about?”
“Dreams.” I supplied. He looked a little scared so, I changed tracks.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?”
He sighed. It seemed too harsh that a little kid like him would have to exhale so sharply. A sudden ache cut under my ribs. What’s happening?
“A doctor.”
Ah, science was in his genes! I preened. “Really? Not a scientist…” And then it hit me. he wanted to be like Max. Goddammit!
“Remember how much my stomach hurt when I was little?” He was still little but I didn’t have the heart to tell him that. He looked adorable. I just held him closer.
“Well, I want to make sure no one else has that same ache. What about you?” He cocked his ears in my direction and I pulled at it.
“well, I also wanted to be a scientist. Molecular biologist.” I sighed wistfully.
Alex sounded thrilled. “Mom, you wanted to be guacamole??”
I laughed at his delighted screech. “Yeah, something like that.”
“Mom, mom.” He tugged at my shirt. “You’re delicious anyway.”
“My knight in shining armor.” I teased.
It was as if I’d hit him. He went blank and his little body stiffened in shock, making him a dead weight in my lap. I squirmed.
“Alex!” At my shout, he blinked and relaxed. I’d never been more worried. How did I let it get this bad?
“Sorry.” He looked totally disoriented.
“K, this is the deal. You tell me everything. I want to know. Now.”
He looked terrified. My heart broke. “Alex, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. Whatever you keep seeing, if you tell me, it’s going to be all right. Just tell me.”
“Mom, I can’t!”
“Yes, you can. I’m your mother. I love you.” By that time, I was almost frothing at the mouth.
“I forgot.”
I reacted without thinking. Shaking him by the shoulders, I snarled. “Don’t lie to me!”
He was looking lost. There was no way he was going to tell me anything.
“Go inside. Brush your teeth. It’s time to go to sleep.”
“Momma, I’m sorry…” he moaned, looking helpless.
“You don’t have to be.” I told him wearily, still pondering the odds of finding a good doctor anywhere around. California was my best bet. Or Arizona.
He stared at me for a while and odd jolt of Zan looking at me the same way lit inside in my skin. I snapped my head toward him and that broke him out of it. Throwing himself blubbering, at me, he buried his head in my stomach and started crying.
“It’ll be fine, Alex. Just write it down.” Struck by a sudden inspiration, I rifled through my bag for a page. An old notepad brushed against my hand and I held it out. “Here, write this down. Whenever you’re ready.”
He sniveled. “Sure.”
“Good, let’s go in.” I pushed him through and took a moment to glare at the heavens. Why was this happening to my son? Why? The V sign rejoiced by sparkling brighter than ever. I gave it the finger and went inside.
Lemme know, folks. Sorry for the delay.
Sarah
Thanks for taking the time to reply.
Any good?