While she ate, he offered an explanation for why the cops had come to his house the other day.
“I don’t want you thinking you live next door to a crazy violent person,” he said after telling her the story. “The guy was so drunk, he didn’t even remember he punched first. There won’t be any charges.”
She nodded, relieved he’d been forthcoming, and she hadn’t had to ask about it. If he was to be believed—and she had no reason to doubt him—he’d KOed some drunk guy who had hurt his friend and tried to punch Alex. Seemed justified, and it put her mind at ease that he wouldn’t be trouble.
“There’s something else,” he said. His tone made her stop mid-chew and come to attention. “I hope I didn’t overstep, but yesterday, I talked to Calvin about his dad’s death.”
Her mouth fell open. He’dwhat? Before she could ask, he continued.
“We were at my place, picking out a book. From books my dad used to read to me before he died.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “Memories of my dad hit me, one of which was that, as a kid, I blamed myself for his death. I asked Cal if he felt the same way, and he said Sam told him his dad left because he didn’t want him.”
Julia’s eyes narrowed. “Sam,” she said. “Damn that invisible trouble maker.”
“I told him Sam was wrong and that his dad would have stayed if he could and all that. I figured you’d want to know.”
“I…yes…of course.” She was flabbergasted. “How could I not know that? What the hell kind of mother am I?” More tears showed up—tears of frustration.
“Don’t,” Alex said, handing her a napkin. “Don’t do that to yourself. Sometimes it’s easier to admit certain things to strangers. And I did ask him directly.”
She dried her eyes, wiped her nose, and nodded. Maybe he was right. And even if he wasn’t, she’d have to melt down later. He didn’t need to deal with her I’m-a-horrible-mother crisis.
After she finished the toast, he insisted they exchange phone numbers, “just in case.” She thought it was unnecessary but couldn’t say no after all he’d done. As they walked to the door, she assured him she would be fine and thanked him profusely. After he left, she caught a glimpse of herself in the entryway mirror and gasped. Hello, hot mess. She took a few swipes at her hair but gave up. The clothes dryer buzzed and startled her. He’d done laundry?
Curious, she went to the laundry room. The wrinkle guard was set, which meant he could have started it anytime last night. She opened the dryer to find Calvin’s bed sheets. When she pulled one out to fold it, a tiny pair of Spider-Man underwear fell to the floor, and Julia realized what must have happened.
She finished folding the sheets and took them to Cal’s room. He sat in the middle of a plain mattress, playing with a plastic dinosaur.
“Hey, buddy,” she said. “How’d it go yesterday? Sorry I was so sick.”
“Somethin’ bad happened, Mommy,” he said solemnly. She arched a brow. “Charlie died.” A single tear slid down his face.
She wrapped him in her arms. “I know, baby. Mr. Alex told me.” Her eyes filled again, and she wondered how long it would be before she could talk about Charlie without crying. “He was old. Now he’ll be healthy and happy.”
“Mr. Alex said Dad will watch him. Is that true?”
“Yes, it is.” She wiped her eyes.
“Mr. Alex said it’s okay to cry.”
“Well, he’s right about that too. You ready for some breakfast?”
“Yeah, but first I gotta tell you somethin’.” His somber expression made Julia nervous. What happened yesterday? Something with Alex?
“What is it?” she asked, tamping down the terror.
“I peed in the bed.” He hung his little head, and her heart about broke. It took a second for her to realize he’d admitted it and not pinned it on Sam. Normally, anything that went wrong was her fault. Maybe Sam had finally left.
“It’s okay, honey. What did Mr. Alex say?” Now that she knew it was nothing horrible, she was curious about how he’d handled it. She hoped he hadn’t lost his temper or shamed Cal.
“He said he hated it when that happened. Maybe he wets the bed too.”
Julia covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.
“He said big boys say when they do somethin’ bad.”
“That’s right,” she said, pulling Calvin into a hug. “You must be a big boy then.”
After feeding Cal and letting him turn on a cartoon show, she called the crematory to ask about the price difference between burial and cremation. It would cost hundreds of dollars no matter which option she chose. Too emotional to call around for a better deal—plus, this company already had Charlie—she agreed to burial. Cremation was cheaper, but she couldn’t bear the thought of explaining the process to Calvin.
