“What was she doing while someone else took care of you?” I ask.
“Drinking,” he says flatly. “Always drinking. Usually with one of her boyfriends. She was always vague about who my father was; she said he was this guy named Carlos who came to town one summer from Guatemala or Chile—she couldn’t remember—and I was the product of their summer fling. She was seventeen, just like Thea was when Rex was born. It always pissed me off that she refused to tell me more than that, but as I got older I realized it was likely because she didn’tknowmore than that. She only told me that much because some kid at school asked why my mom’s skin was lighter than mine. It’s more than Thea ever got, though. Our mom claimed she didn’t know who Thea’s father was.”
At my small sound of sympathy, Liam shifts, holding me tighter.
“Anyway,” he says. “I got sick one time when I was around Rex’s age. The Murphys were visiting Seamus’s family in Ireland. Nathan had managed to avoid catching whatever I had, and his mom wanted it to stay that way, so Mom had to keep me at home. I was weirdly excited, thinking I’d get to spend some time with her and have her take care of me. But she wasn’t the one who took care of me; it was her boyfriend.”
He pauses and shakes his head. “I can’t even remember his name now. He was one of the nicer ones, though. I think he actually tried to get my mom to sober up. If he succeeded, it didn’t last long, and neither did he. I have a few vague flashes of spending time with him, feeling safer with him than I did with any of his predecessors. I made the mistake of starting to get attached to him and then…he was gone.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been. And confusing.”
He hums in agreement. “I made Thea promise me she’d keep the people she dates away from Rex unless she became serious with one of them. The kid doesn’t need to add abandonment issues to everything else he has to deal with.”
I’m not sure how to respond. We fall into silence, with me continuing to run my fingers through Liam’s hair. He releases a shuddering yawn and his breathing evens out a few seconds later. With his comforting weight against me, I close my own eyes and fall asleep.
*****
Rex’s temperature is almost back to normal when we all wake up. I heat the rest of the soup, and both guys manage to eat an entire bowl plus some toast. At Liam’s insistence, I microwave some of Mae’s leftover lasagna for my own dinner.
The three of us curl up on the couch and watchA Charlie Brown Christmas, followed byThe Muppet Christmas Carol. When Rex falls asleep toward the end of the second movie, I offer to run Liam a hot bath so he can soak some of his aches away. When he agrees, I venture upstairs, peeking into the bedrooms before finding the bathroom and filling the tub with hot water.
I’m about to go downstairs to get Liam when he appears in the doorway. He gives me a tired smile as he strips off his sweatshirt. “One of these days, we’ll end up in the tub together,” he says.
“Maybe that’ll be your Christmas present,” I tell him and he laughs softly. I help him into the bathtub once he’s fully undressed. He sinks into the steaming water with a groan, his eyes slipping shut. I pat his shoulder and turn to go, but his fingers catch mine.
“Will you stay?” he asks. “Rex will likely sleep for awhile.”
“Of course.” There’s a small stool beside the tub, which I pull over to sit on. I imagine Liam sitting here when Rex is in the bath, or Rex using it to reach the sink. As much time as I’ve spent with the Doherty boys, it’s different being in their home, seeing how they live. This isn’t even Rex’s full-time home, but there are signs of him everywhere, from his toys scattered in every room to his drawings on the fridge. It’s far too easy to imagine being a permanent part of their lives.
“Want me to wash your hair?” I ask. At Liam’s wordless nod, I wet his hair with a cup from the side of the tub and then grab the shampoo he indicates. I take my time working the familiar-scented shampoo into his hair, massaging his scalp, and smiling at his low moans of pleasure.
After I rinse his hair, I pick up a washcloth and the bar of soap sitting in a dish on the edge of the tub. Liam’s eyes close again, his body slumping forward as I run the cloth over his back and shoulders. This isn’t sexy. It can’t be; Liam is sick and weak. But god help me, seeing him this way, with water droplets glistening on his smooth skin and his hair curling around his ears and falling over his forehead…let’s just say the quiet intimacy of this moment is going to be burned in my brain for a long time to come.
Liam shifts with me when I move the washcloth around to his front. He leans back, eyes locking on my face as I gently wash his chest. I brush my fingers over his tattoo, unable to hold back a smile. His hand moves to cover mine, pressing it to his chest. The way I’m leaning forward puts our faces just a few inches apart. His gaze dips down to my lips, but he makes no move to kiss me. When his eyes return to mine, they’re so intense I swear he’s looking into my soul. It nearly takes my breath away.
“Joss,” he whispers.
“Joss?” Rex calls a second later.
Liam takes the washcloth from me, and I stick my hands in the water to rinse the soap off. “I’ll go see what he needs,” I say. “Will you be okay?”
He nods. “I’ll stay and soak for a while longer unless Rex needs me.”
I push to my feet. Liam reaches for my hand again, clasping my fingers with his wet ones. A moment passes during which we simply stare at each other until Rex calls my name again, louder this time. I squeeze Liam’s fingers and drop them, hurrying from the room.
“I’m ready to go to bed now,” Rex says when I enter the living room. “Will you read me a story?” He flashes those puppy eyes at me again. At this point, I’d do anything the kid asked, puppy eyes or not.
We troop upstairs, hand in hand. Rex stops in the bathroom to say good night to Liam. While he’s in there, he decides he has to pee, and I hear Liam laughing as Rex shoos me out and closes the door. The next door down the hall has a dinosaur-shaped sign with Rex’s name on it, so I go inside to wait. The room is mostly neat, with a short bookcase full of books and toys, an overflowing wooden toy box that looks handmade, and a twin bed with aStar Warscomforter.
Rex goes straight to the bookcase when he enters the room. He picks a book and crawls into bed, flicking on a string of battery-operated lights that wind around his headboard. He points to the tiny Christmas tree on his bedside table and I turn on those lights too. The crooked cardboard star on top has a picture of Rex, Liam, and Thea glued in the middle. I stare at it until Rex says my name, and then I get him all tucked in before sitting on the edge of the bed. He watches me with sleepy, love-filled eyes as I read the story about a T-Rex who visits Santa at the North Pole.
When I finish reading the book, he gives a vast yawn, blinking his heavy eyelids and smacking his lips. “Good night. I love you, Mommy.” His eyes slip closed as he nestles down into his pillows, falling almost immediately to sleep.
I swallow past the massive lump in my throat. “I love you too, Rex,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to his forehead. I linger with my lips against his skin, relieved he’s not as warm as he was earlier. I stay for a few minutes more, watching him sleep.
I know calling me Mommy was a slip; he’s exhausted and out of it from fighting the fever. It’s like when kids accidentally call their teacher Mom. But it did something funny to my heart, probably because Idolove Rex. He’s funny and sweet and observant, and I love talking to him and hanging out with him. He’s a tiny kindred spirit who likes so many of the same things I do and seems to get me in a way many adults don’t. As someone who didn’t have a normal childhood, I feel for him, and I’m amazed at how well adjusted he is. I also can’t help but see his uncle in him, and not just the physical resemblance or the similarity in mannerisms. He has Liam’s kind heart, his easy-going nature, his caretaker tendencies.
With one last kiss to Rex’s forehead, I rise from the bed and tuck the blankets in around him. After checking to make sure there’s still water in the glass on his bedside table, I creep from the room, closing the door part way.
