Live to Tell (Detective D.D. Warren, #4)(78)

Michael, however, waves him off. “Sorry, buddy. Just telling some story from work. Hey, I see another fire engine over there on the deck. Maybe that one can help the others with the rescue operation.”

Evan obediently trots out of the pool to fetch his smaller fire truck. Michael and I resume our conversation.

“The therapist, Dr. Curtin, would like you to bring in Evan a few times, just to get to know each other. Once Evan is comfortable with her and the surroundings, then Chelsea can show up, too. She and Evan can visit each other, in a controlled environment where both of them will hopefully feel safe.”

I don’t know what to say. “When? How … how often?”

Michael shrugs. “It’d have to be weekends, given that Chelsea’s school’s about to start. I figured a couple of times a month? Say, every other weekend, an hour at a time, see how it goes.”

“And if it doesn’t go well? If Evan has a bad episode?”

Michael shrugs, as if to say, what’s he supposed to do?

“It would be unfair to string them along,” I say. “To reintroduce Chelsea and Evan, only to halt the relationship again.”

“I agree. Hopefully, having a professional such as Dr. Curtin involved will help manage the downside. Then again, given Evan’s volatility … We try it or we don’t try it, Victoria. Those are the options.”

I have to think about it. He’s right, of course. There are no guarantees with a child like Evan. We’re supposed to set him up for success, but some days I don’t know what that is.

“He misses his sister,” I say at last. “He asks for Chelsea nearly every day.” I look at him. “He misses you, too.”

Michael looks down now. He studies his leather shoes. “I’ll be there every other weekend, as well.”

“The History Channel is his favorite channel,” I hear myself say. “He knows almost everything there is to know about the Romans. Dates, famous leaders, major battles. He’s smart, Michael. He’s unbelievably smart. And he’s incredibly lonely.”

“I know.”

“How … how could you leave us? How could you give up on him like that?”

“Because Chelsea’s lonely, too. And troubled and traumatized and scared to death that, one day, she’s going to wake up as violent and angry as her brother. That’s a lot for a little girl to deal with, Victoria, and as long as she lived here, it wasn’t going to get dealt with. Every day would be about Evan. But Chelsea needs us, too.”

His words are matter-of-fact. Somehow, this makes them harder to take.

“What does Melinda think of this?” I ask pointedly.

At the mention of his fiancée, Michael stiffens, but doesn’t retreat. “My kids are her kids. She gets that.”

“So you’ll start over. A new little family. Is she young? Does she want children? Does that scare the crap out of you?”

He regards me evenly. “Yes, she wants kids. And yeah, it scares the crap out of me.”

“It’s not fair,” I whisper.

“No, Victoria, it’s not.” He hesitates. For a second, I think he might say more, he might touch my cheek. Then the moment passes.

I can’t look at him anymore. I stare down at the deck and will myself not to cry. This is not about me. This is about Evan. Getting to see his sister again. Getting to see his father again. Evan and his sister reclaiming part of their family.

“I’ll bring him to the doctor’s office,” I say. “I’ll work with Dr. Curtin. If this means Evan can see you and Chelsea, I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you,” I say, on behalf of Evan. Then I don’t speak anymore because my throat is thick with tears and I don’t want to say something stupid, such as I’m lonely, too. Or even worse, I still love you.

Michael crosses to Evan. He starts to say his goodbye. Evan doesn’t take it well. Michael negotiates a compromise. One last round of Super Soaker warfare, then Evan can watch a show on the History Channel after Michael departs.

They return to their battle. I retreat inside the house to the upstairs master bath, where I splash water on my face and realize for the first time that my hair is snarled, my shirt is spattered with Evan’s blood, and I have dirt on both my knees. Doesn’t matter. Michael and Melinda, Melinda and Michael, two little lovebirds sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

Downstairs, Michael and Evan are entering the family room, both pink-cheeked and water-soaked.

“What do you think?” Michael asks Evan. “Can I visit you again?”

Evan regards Michael thoughtfully. “You left me.”

“I was away longer than I thought I would be,” Michael says.

“You left.”

“I’m here now.”

“But you left.”

Michael finally concedes. “Yeah, buddy, I left. And I missed you every day, and I hurt every day, and I don’t want to hurt like that again. So here I am—”

“Leaving,” Evan singsongs.

“Returning,” Michael corrects. “I don’t live here anymore, Evan. I can’t stay, but I can come back.” He looks at me for support.

I add, “He can come back, Evan. You’ll see.”