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Chapter Twenty-Seven / 2013


Abbey

When Nick let Nacho loose in the apartment, I thought Matty was going to implode. Jeraldo and lunch were both instantly forgotten as Matty slid off his chair to the floor to greet the dog, his eyes wide with excitement. "You brought your dog for the sleep over!" he cried as Nacho rushed over, tongue lolling out. Matty let out a peal of laughter as Nacho's tongue swiped across his cheeks.

Nick knelt down on the floor so his back was against the couch, only a couple feet from Matty and Nacho. "Well he sure likes you," Nick commented with a laugh as Nacho's tail practically spun off his body.

"I like you too," Matty informed the dog. He looked at Nick. "You should sleep in my room!" he suggested.

Nick laughed.

"You should! I have really cool action figures. Wait here." He got up and he rushed down the hallway, the dog chasing after him.

"Inside feet!" I shouted at him as his heels thundered on the floor, and he slowed down. I sighed and looked at Nick. "He's always wanted a dog," I said.

"I think Nacho's always wanted a kid, so it works out," Nick answered.

It felt weird, having Nick Carter in my living room. I couldn't help but stare at him for how out of place he looked against the pale beige of my carpet. He looked radiant there, a magnificent thing amongst the rubble of a mundane life. I looked away before he could catch me staring at him, though I'm pretty sure he knew. He tugged on the hood strings of his sweatshirt.

"Thanks, by the way," he said awkwardly.

"It's no problem," I answered.

I had a feeling it came out as equally awkward.

Matty came thundering back down the hallway. "Inside feet," I reminded him again and he slowed down, Nacho hopping along beside him. He had his arms in a big hug around a good portion of the super heroes that had stood watch from his window sill moments before. He dumped them on Nick's lap like they were an offering and looked up at him.

Nick looked down at the toys. "Wow, that's a lot of action figures," he said.

Matty nodded, "It sure is!"

Nick picked up a Captain America doll. "Who's your favorite?" he asked. Matty picked up Iron Man and held him up. "Good choice," Nick answered. "He's one of my favorites too. But c'mon dude, nobody can beat Superman."

"Batman can," Matty answered.

"I dunno about that," Nick answered.

Matty nodded, "Batman lives in a cave. Kryptonite is in caves. Batman's suit might have kryptonite dust stuck to it. Then he'd win."

"You, sir, are very good at debates," Nick said. He leaned forward, picking up two figures from the floor. "How do you feel about a Spiderman-versus-Hulk situation?"

I rolled my eyes and headed out to the kitchen to clean up. Nacho had found one of the stray tater tots from Matty's earlier escapades with the elf on the ceiling fan and he was munching it happily under the table. I picked up the left overs of Matty's lunch and started loading the dish washer. I could hear the two boys discussing superhero showdowns in the other room still. It sounded like Nick was forgetting he was arguing with a little kid about this and I pictured what it must be like on the Backstreet Boys' tour bus for a moment with five boys talking about goofy shit like who would beat who in a battle to the death.

Once the kitchen was clean, I went out to sit with them while they played. Matty gave me a running commentary on what was happening, telling me the story the boys were acting out with the figures. It didn't make a lot of sense to me, but they were certainly having fun at it. I could hear Nick's voice getting lighter and lighter as he played with Matty and the action figures, and slowly the nervous lines on his forehead melted away and the smile on his face started to reach his eyes.

Yet again, Matty is the one doing the saving, I thought to myself.

The boys kept busy for most of the afternoon, until I turned on the TV and a Christmas movie was on and Matty's concentration broke. He crawled up onto the couch and waved for Nick to follow. "Sit on this side of me," he directed, snuggling up to me and patting the cushion on the other side of him for Nick. Nick sat down and glanced over at me, his eyes a little nervous as he sat there, stiff and uncomfortable. Matty snaked his arm around Nick's waist so he was half-hugging both of us.

"This is a good one," he said, "Have you seen it?"

It was the Night Before Christmas, the one with the mouse who breaks the clock and the Trundles and all that. "It's one of my favorites," Nick answered.

"Me, too," Matty answered. "I like the mouse with the big glasses." He giggled. "It's funny because mice don't wear glasses."

Nick laughed, "Maybe they do. What about all the near-sighted mice, huh?"

"I've never saw a mouse with glasses on," Matty replied, still giggling.

"Maybe they wear contacts now," Nick answered.

Matty squealed. "Nuh uh!"

"Yeah maybe," Nick said, "I mean, this movie came out before any of us were even born."

"Even you?"

"Yup."

"Even my mom?"

I looked down at him, "Hey, mister. Nick's older than me."

Matty looked up at Nick. "That's a old movie."

Nick nodded.

We watched Christmas movies until it was time for dinner and because I didn't feel like exposing poor Nick to my cooking, we ordered a pizza, which Nick insisted he would pay for. Because of our heart-healthy diet, Matty rarely got pizza. Between Nick's presence, Nacho laying across his lap, the Christmas movies talking up presents and Santa and elves (which kept him glancing back at Jeraldo), and the pizza guy ringing the door bell, Matty was through the roof excited. By the time bedtime came, he could barely sit still.

"Say goodnight to Nick," I directed him.

Matty looked up at Nick, "Goodnight, Nick," he offered.

"Night buddy," Nick answered.

Matty looked down at Nacho. "Goodnight, Nacho."

"He'll probably sleep on your bed if you'd like him to," Nick said. Nacho was laying on his back across Matty's lap still.

"Really?" Matty asked.

Nick nodded. "Just carry him in carefully and he'll probably just stay asleep like that."

"Can I mom?" Matty looked at me.

"If Nick's okay with it."

Matty wrapped his arms carefully around the bulging mass of Nacho's body and got up, sliding off the couch to his feet. Nacho's eyes opened but he didn't try to get away or anything, and Matty carried him off to his bedroom. I turned to Nick, "I'll be out once he's asleep," I said, "Make yourself at home."

"Thanks," he answered. But he sat on the couch like he was very far from home and he rubbed his hands across his knees as he stared up at me, smiling awkwardly.

"MOM! HURRY UP!" Matty yelled.

I smiled, "I'll be out right after he falls asleep."




Nick

I sat there on the couch, staring around the room at all the little artifacts of life that were laying around. Little knick-knacks, DVDs, pictures on walls. I moved a couple magazines around on the coffee table. Mostly they were Zoo Books and Highlights and a couple coloring books mixed in. On the shelf under the TV was a box of 96 crayons with the built in sharpener. I opened one of the coloring books and flipped through the pages. Most of them were filled in, the colors spilling over the lines in a couple places, but mostly neat. There were pictures of dinosaurs and dogs and trucks all filled in all nice and neat and stuff.

I stared at one of the issues of Zoo Books, one on Sharks, and I thought about how much Matty was like I was when I was six years old. It was crazy, considering I hadn't been around, how much of the same things interested us, how much he looked like me, how strong the DNA link had remained, despite the distance. I wondered what he would think of me once he knew the truth, if he'd ask why I hadn't been around, if he'd still like me the way he did now or if I would become a stranger to him, someone who lied to him and abandoned him for most of his life.

I was thinking about that still when Abbey came back from his room. "I thought he'd never fall asleep," she laughed. She dropped onto the couch and let out a sigh of relief, falling back into the cushion. She looked over at me. "You okay?"

I nodded.

"You look... nervous."

I took a deep breath and stood up, walking out to the dining room and took Jeraldo off the ceiling fan's blade. I unfolded the little elf's legs and stared at him laying in the palm of my hand. "Where should I put Jeraldo tonight?" I asked.

Abbey got up and came out and stared at Jeraldo in my hands. "Somewhere that he could be eating something," she said. Then she told me about Matty and his tater tots he was slinging up at the ceiling fan before I came over, and I laughed. We went to the kitchen carrying the elf and set up an elaborate thing where he was sitting in the bottom shelf eating a carrot stick he was dipping in a pool of ranch dressing he'd knocked over, leaning against an over-sized squash. Abbey laughed, "Such a mischievous elf, always getting into things."

"They do that, elves," I said.

Abbey closed the refrigerator door and turned to face me and found I was closer than she'd expected. She put her hand on my chest to balance herself, and looked up at me with wide eyes. She backed away slowly. I wanted to stop her from backing away. I wanted to hold her palm to my chest and softly pull her back into me. I wanted to smell her and feel the electricity pass between us again, like it had outside of the hospital. I wanted to make Lauren right, to make it so I'd lost all those things we'd had between us for a reason, to justify the break-up, to feel less betrayed, less alone.

So I did it.

My mouth landed squarely on Abbey's mouth and she took a sharp intake of breath in surprise, her eyes wide, then gently dropping closed as I slid my hands from her hand to her chin and up the sides of her head to gently cup her face in my palms.

It was like... magic... or... something... Like the blessing to a prayer I didn't know I'd uttered, an answer to a question I hadn't yet asked. She fit perfectly - as perfectly as I remembered her fitting from seven years ago. My heart raced in my chest and I felt dizzy, but I didn't want to break away, didn't want to shatter the spell.

Then she did.

She pulled away, backing right into the counter of the sink. She stared up at me, her fingertips touching her lips softly where we'd been connected. Her eyes were wide and glistening. I couldn't read the expression she had on her face.

"Sorry," I said quietly.

"Thank you," she squeaked, and without further words, she rushed out of the room, down the hallway, and a moment later I heard what I assumed was her bedroom door slamming shut.

I stood there, dumbfounded, wondering what the hell I'd done.