As Bright as Heaven(113)

“What do you want?” My voice sounds stiff.

“Are you one of the girls? Are you Maggie?”

I nod once.

“I just want to talk to your father.”

I open the door wide, a silent gesture for him to come inside.

“May I take your coat?” I say, mechanically.

“I don’t reckon this will take long.”

I show him to the sitting room. Papa and I have let the morning fire die down and the room is chilly. Unwelcoming. Cal Dabney doesn’t seem to notice.

I excuse myself and retrace my steps to the viewing parlor. When I tell Papa who is at the door, he says, “What does the man want?” I recognize the fear in his voice.

“He said he just wants to talk to you. He said it wouldn’t take long.”

I return to the sitting room with Papa. Cal Dabney is looking at the family photographs on a table by the bay window. Alex is in one of them.

Papa thrusts out his hand. “I’m Thomas Bright. How do you do?”

Alex’s father shakes Papa’s hand. “Cal Dabney.”

I start to leave the room, though I am planning to stand where I can hear everything being said. But Cal calls out to me.

“You don’t have to go. It might be better if you stay.”

“Is Alex all right?” I ask as I turn back around. “I mean, Leo. Is he all right?”

“You can call him Alex. That’s what we’re calling him. We found out pretty quick he doesn’t like the name Leo.”

I want to laugh. To smile. To cry. To scream.

“How are things working out?” Papa says kindly but with a measure of displeasure. It’s been eight weeks since Alex left us, and we’ve heard nothing from him or about him.

Cal shakes his head. “Well, that’s why I’m here. They’re not exactly working out.”

“What do you mean? What’s happened? What’s wrong?” I practically shout these three questions. I am picturing Alex cowering in a closet, or wasting away because he’s not eating, or crying himself to sleep every night.

Papa touches my arm to calm me. “How can we help?” he says.

“It was wrong what happened to my boy all those years ago. But it was wrong what happened to him now, too. I see that,” Cal says. “He doesn’t know us. He doesn’t love us or trust us. You’re the people he loves and trusts. My parents got no call to raise that boy just because they want back what they think is theirs. Fact is, he’s not theirs. Alex is mine. Only mine. And if Ines was still alive and she and I had spent the last seven years searching for our son, it’d be different. But she’s gone, and I had to move on. I have a new family and a new life now. Just like this boy was given a new family and a new life when you took him in. I’m not saying I don’t want to be a part of Alex’s life. I do. I want to take him fishing and maybe to a baseball game now and then. I want him to grow up knowing his little brother. I want him to learn to love me and trust me.” Cal turns to face me. “But I want him to live here with you. With all of you. This is where he wants to be.” He turns to Papa again. “So what I’m asking you is, will you take him back? Can he live here?”

I want to slap this man for not wanting Alex and hug him for the same reason, even though I know what he truly wants is for Alex to be happy. I don’t know if he’s making the right choice or the easy choice. All I know is he wants Alex to come home. I wait to see what Papa says.

Papa rubs his chin for a second. “Alex will always be welcome here,” he finally replies. “This is his home for as long as he wants it to be. I’m sure we can work out the finer details.”

Cal exhales a breath of relief. “I’m so glad to hear that. I’d like to tell him and my parents today if that’s all right. Maybe bring him over tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Papa says.

Cal puts out his hand for Papa to shake it. “Thank you. You all did a fine job of raising my boy. Better than I was raised, I can tell you. I don’t mind that I’m having to call him Alex.”

Papa swallows a knot of emotion. “He’s a wonderful boy. I hope you know we love him like our own.”

“See?” Cal says. “That’s just the thing. You all love him. And he loves you.” Then he turns to me. “And I want to thank you for saving him back when you did. I used to be an angry man at what I’d lost over the years. I’d forgotten how to see anything good in my life. But I’m seeing the good more and more these days. I realize now that Alex surely would have died of that flu if it weren’t for you.”

“I’m sorry I was part of the reason you were so angry,” I carefully reply.

Cal shrugs. “I guess all of us are just doing the best we can with what life hands us.”

We walk Cal Dabney to the door. He tells us he’ll be back tomorrow around five o’clock if that’s all right. Papa asks him if he’d like to bring his new wife and baby to dinner the following weekend, and he says, “That sounds mighty nice.”

When the door closes, I turn to Papa. “Did that just happen?”

He smiles. Then laughs. Strokes his chin. Shakes off a silver line of tears glimmering at his eyes. “We’d better get back to getting the parlor ready. The family will be here any minute.”