Authors: Linda Wood Rondeau
“What do you think makes her sad?”
“Me. She wouldn’t be sad if I wasn’t around.”
Chapter Six
Alexis handed Gib the box for his boots. “Put those back in here for tonight. Tomorrow we’ll check to see how we should take care of them.”
“I already know.”
He probably did. If something interested him, he soaked up information like a data file. Alexis slid the box containing the boots under the table.
“Time for bed, Gib. We have to get up early for church.”
Gib didn’t make a move.
“What?”
“My ice-cream?”
Should she let him have more sweets? Any change in Gib’s nighttime routine would probably result in a sleepless night for both of them.
“Get ready for bed and then you can have your ice-cream.”
He came down wearing his wet pajamas from last night.
“Try again, Gib. Put those in your hamper and put on clean jammies.”
“Oh, man! Do I have to?”
“Yes. Those smell pretty bad.”
Gib came back down with a different set, slightly too small and smelling of mothballs. Where had he found these? Not from his dresser. He probably pilfered them out from the box in the attic earmarked for a future garage sale.
Better he smells like mothballs than urine.
“Ice cream’s on the table, Your Majesty.” He offered her a rare smile as he swallowed his nighttime meds. Hopefully, he’d be asleep in half an hour.
“You have a good time tonight?”
“Yes. Ethan’s coming to hear me sing in the Christmas program at church tomorrow.”
“He didn’t say anything to me about it.”
“He said he was going to surprise you.”
“Ethan Jacobs is free to go to church wherever he wants.”
“He says I’ve got a good voice.”
“You do. Only, you don’t like to practice very much, do you?”
“Practice is boring.” Gib scraped the last of his ice-cream from the bowl, and headed upstairs. While he brushed his teeth, Alexis did a quick scoop of Gib’s room, looking for wanton clothing he might have taken from his dresser and stashed under his bed. They read from his devotional book and prayed together, her favorite time of the night. Then Gib turned on his CD player set for auto shut off, and climbed into bed.
When finally able to think of something other than Gib’s needs, Alexis mulled over the dinner date with Ethan, if it could be called a date. She enjoyed the evening. So nice to taste the finer things in life again. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had lobster, let alone anything out of the sea. What she ate, as well as the rest of her life, was dictated by the idiosyncrasies of a brain shrouded in misfiring synapses.
She worried Ethan might have been put off by her surly six-year old attitude, still unable to shake her mistrust. What infuriated her more: not knowing the true motivation behind his kindness or the fact she was hopelessly infatuated with him?
When they’d made snow angels together, she had sensed his desire for her matched her interest in him. How easy it would have been to put aside professionalism and surrender to the flesh. Instinct warned her that involvement with a celeb would only end in heartbreak. He’d be back on the road and out of her life quicker than a chorus of
Auld Lang Syne
.
Just like her summer fling with the very married
Daredevil Pete. She’d spontaneously thrown common
sense aside to go with him on an Alaskan cruise. Afterward, they had parted ways. He then continued his stunts while she began her freshman year at California Christian University. The day Alexis discovered she carried his child, Daredevil Pete fell to his death trying to tightrope over Niagara Falls.
The night before her scheduled abortion, she’d turned to her Bible, finding verse after verse convincing her of God’s plan for the unborn. She cancelled her appointment. The next day, she miscarried.
She bore her secret alone; not even Jasmine knew. Certainly she couldn’t tell her parents, especially not after they adopted Gib. Though God forgave her indiscretion, the memory still burned. She could not, would not fall prey to glamour again.
Besides, she’d been made Gib’s guardian in her parents’ will—seeming atonement. Yet, she’d messed up and now she’d lose Gib, too. She’d witnessed some of the difficulties her parents had experienced during her infrequent visits home, and she’d expected to run into turbulence. What she had not expected were the utter impossibilities within a societal structure unable to effectively treat most behavioral disorders.
Alexis supposed at first, as the counselor suggested, that she’d harbored a secret desire to rid herself of her obligation toward Gib. Not now. Ironically, as He had done with her pregnancy, now that she’d learned to love Gib, God was going to take him away from her. He’d lost the only parents he ever knew, and now the system wanted to take everything familiar away from him. Why punish Gib for her failure?
Alexis fell to her knees as
A Christmas Prayer
echoed down the stairs from Gib’s room. “Oh, God.
I want to believe you have a plan in all this. If I can’t have Gib, please make sure he finds a home where he’ll be loved and not be sent into an institution.”
The phone interrupted her tearful pleading. Maybe she should let it go to voicemail. She glanced at the incoming number. Ethan Jacobs.
* * *
“Hello.”
Almost friendly. “
Um … have a minute? I know it’s late.”
“A minute.”
Alexis could be so cold toward him … yet … “Did Gib tell you I’d be at your church tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t mind, do you?”
“Why should I?”
“You seemed a little annoyed with me tonight. Again, I apologize if I stepped on your toes where Gib’s concerned.”
“Like you said, you meant no harm.”
“I’m forgiven, then?”
“Nothing to forgive.”
“Then would you allow me to take you out after church tomorrow?
“What about Gib?”
“I know this sounds presumptuous. But, I already asked your friend Jasmine if she’d stay with Gib for the afternoon.”
“Guess I have no excuse. Okay.”
“I hoped you’d say something like you’d be happy to go out with me.”
“Sorry … didn’t read the script. Of course, I’d be pleased. Will this be another concert in the limo?”
To him, her insults tasted like honey. How could he not be attracted to her? Yet, come to think of it, after rehab, before he came back to Jasper Falls, he had very few waking moments without a guitar in his hand, either practicing songs, standing in a recording studio or on stage. He even brought his guitar to his meetings with his attorney. Until he became a Christian, he only dated during his binges, the circumstances and the women he couldn’t recall. He didn’t know what a date might be like as a sober Christian with a Christian woman. “No concert, I promise.”
“So where to tomorrow?”
“Do you have a snow suit?”
“Sort of. A jacket and water-proof pants I use to shovel the driveway.”
“I hear snow tubing is a blast. I’ve never been. Up to it?”
“Sounds like fun. Sure.”
“Okay.” He wished he were with her now. Alexis was not a woman who could be rushed. If only he had more time.
Chapter Seven
One hundred and forty heads turned when Ethan Jacobs entered the church with Kyle and Tom leading the way, Ethan in the middle, and two more cops-for-hire behind him. Why so much security in a church this small? Did they have to guard the bathroom door when he had a nature break?
Ethan slid into their pew and sat between Alexis and Gib.
Gib cranked his head every direction except forward. With a big smile, he scanned the congregation and pointed toward Ethan while shaking his head up and down.
“Gib, turn around and pay attention.”
“Yes, Alexis.” He played with the hymn books and scratched his head, then squirmed in his seat as the younger children performed their songs. The teens also had put together a couple of humorous skits. But Gib had opted to sing a solo rather than participate in the group activity. If Alexis had known ahead of time, she’d have encouraged him to take part. Unfortunately, leaders and teachers were quick to approach Gib without coming to her first. Too often, he had difficulty processing questions starting with, “Gib, would you like to …”
Gib fidgeted throughout each part of the program amidst Ethan’s perplexed scowls. Did he not understand autistic children were naturally squirrely? She supposed anyone not used to Gib’s antsy ways might think his behavior inappropriate for his age. Although, his clicking and sliding seemed more exaggerated than usual. She leaned over and whispered, “Are you nervous about singing today?”
Gib’s head drooped and he bit his lip. “A little.”
“You’ll do fine,” Ethan said. He put out his hand, and Gib shook it, a smile returning to his face.
Alexis glanced at the program. Two more carols before Gib’s solo. As he normally did, Gib sat forward during congregational singing to beat out the rhythm, albeit softly, on the pew ahead. Ethan stretched his hand as if to stop Gib, but Alexis shook her head as a warning. The small congregation had no issue with Gib’s sound effects.
Maybe instead of a guitar for Christmas, I should have bought him a set of drums.
Pastor Olney came to the pulpit. “We’re honored to have Ethan Jacobs with us this morning. When I asked him to sing, he said we would be treated with a much better performance from Gibson Jennings.”
Alexis prayed.
Gib walked up to the platform in his usual, what he called funky way: a mixed saunter, slide, and gallop. To no one’s surprise, he sang
A Christmas Prayer
, except for his boy’s soprano, with every note, pause, and reflection as if Ethan Jacobs had sung it himself. The congregation stood to express their appreciation.
Gib squished his lips to mimic a fish and took his seat.
As Pastor Olney came to the pulpit to lead the last carol, Ethan shook Gib’s hand and whispered in Alexis’s ear. “We’ll pick you up at your house. Can’t wait.” He left with his bodyguards in tow.
While others looked confused, she supposed Ethan
had grown accustomed to a lifestyle of late arrivals and early exits, the bane of fame.
Like a silly teenager pairs herself with her newest love interest, Alexis imagined being married
to a celeb like Ethan Jacobs then quickly dismissed the idea. Life with Gib was complicated enough.
Chapter Eight
Alexis shook off the snow from her all-weather outer pants. “I must admit. This was a lot of fun.”
Especially tucked securely within Ethan’s strong arms with his long legs wrapped around hers. He leaned his head over her shoulders, his warm breath against the cold air thawing her heart.
“One more run?” he asked.
“Okay.”
As they picked up speed on the descent, the tube tilted and they spilled out, rolling like logs down the rest of the slope. At the bottom, he helped her stand.
Perhaps her eyes invited the kiss and he accepted; the warmth of his lips against hers both wonderful and frightening. Each kiss that followed was more dangerously enjoyable than the one before it, leaving no doubt that his desire matched hers.
Yet, he pulled away first. “Nice doesn’t describe it, does it?
Is
there a word?”
“You’re the song writer.”
“And you’re the reporter. Maybe we should try a few more kisses and see if we can come up with an accurate description.”
She stepped back enough to fall beyond his immediate grasp. “Or maybe we should make tracks for my place and hot chocolate? I don’t want to take advantage of Jasmine. She has a life. And Gib can be a handful. Plus, it’s getting time for
Avata
r. She’s had to watch it half a dozen times already this week.”
“I’ve seen similar behaviors from dementia patients when visiting nursing homes. What do they call it?”
“Perseveration? You go to nursing homes?”
“Max’s grandmother is a patient at one in White Plains. When we visit, the staff asks me to sing a few songs for the residents. The most frequent request is for
Folsom Prison Blues
.”
“You don’t sing like Johnny Cash.”
“Don’t think so?” He imitated the legend’s sultry, deep voice on the first two bars of
Ring of Fire
.
“Barring the nursing home gang, I think the fact you
don’t
sound like anyone else makes you more appealing, the markings of a true artist, in my opinion.”
“A compliment? From Alexis Jennings? My day is made.”
“More than the kiss?”
“Okay … a close second.”
“Opera is still my preferred genre. But, as far as Country goes, you’re my favorite.”
“Better to be at the top of a short list than in the middle of a long one. Okay. Let’s go. As for Jasmine, she’ll have three dozen roses at her house when she gets home.”
“Good call. She’d be insulted if you paid her; a little overkill on the flowers, though.”
* * *
Alexis unlocked the door, reset the alarm, and hollered into the kitchen as she climbed the steps. “Jasmine … I’m home. I’ll be right back. Ethan’s signing autographs for the masses assembled outside.”
Unlocking her bedroom door, she threw in her coat, purse, and car keys, then checked to make sure she’d relocked everything; the memory of Ethan’s kisses broke her concentration on the trivial. Now what? What did the kiss imply? Did he want a night of pleasure? No. She was done with giving herself away on a whim. The last time brought too much heartache. Though, the temptation did flit across her senses.
Sometimes reality stunk. Would she like those wonderful kisses to lead to a romantic relationship? Yes. How could she? With court only four days away, her world teetered on the edge of chaos, the worst possible time to indulge in something as wonderful as Ethan Jacobs’s kisses.
“So?” Jasmine asked.
“So?”
“Don’t give me that tone of denial, girl … you’re glowing … he kissed you.”
Alexis’s cheeks burned ten degrees beyond embarrassed.
“I told you he likes you.”
She shook her head to reinforce the lunacy of maintaining a relationship with Ethan. “Doesn’t matter if he does. I can’t get involved right now. Not with the benefit and court this week. My head’s spinning enough as it is. Any more speed and it’ll fly into next year.”
“If Ethan likes you, don’t you think he’d be willing to ride the crazy wave with you? If it’s meant to be—”
“It’s not. I promised God I wouldn’t let anything interfere with taking care of Gib. Not anything … not any one.”
“Ethan is not your usual bad-boy fling.”
“He’s still a distraction.”
“Girl, you
need
a distraction like him: sexy and available. Not to mention rich.”
“I don’t care about any of those things. I only care about Gib.”
Jasmine put her hands to her hips, a non-verbal
tsk
, swinging her head back and forth in rhythmic sync to her tirade. “Girl, listen to you getting all noble and self-righteous. God doesn’t need you to do the sacrificing. Do you think He expects you to throw away the rest of your life to satisfy a promise God never asked you to make in the first place? How will being miserable help Gib?”
“Speaking of Gib, where is he?”
As if on cue, he bounded down the stairs. “Ethan here?”
“He’s outside with Kyle and Tom. He’ll be inside soon. Did you behave for Jasmine?”
“Of course.”
Jasmine shrugged her shoulders. “Of course. After we watched
Avatar,
we played a game of
Sorry
. Gib reinvented how the game is played.”
“You watched
Avatar
already?”
“Afraid so. He’s off kilter today, like his robotic chronometer has malfunctioned.”
He squinted. “My head hurts.”
Oh dear. Not now.
Stumbling into the kitchen, Gib stood in front of the locked refrigerator. Alexis followed him in. “Are you hungry?”
He nodded.
“What do you want to eat?”
“I don’t know.” Tears welled as the moans began.
This spell isn’t going to be pretty.
Gib jumped with the knock at the door. “Probably Ethan. Jasmine, would you let him in, please?” Jasmine quietly saluted and went to let Ethan in. “Alexis and Gib are in the kitchen,” she said.
Alexis closed her eyes, picturing Ethan’s revulsion
over what he was about to witness.
Ethan halted when he saw Gib’s balled fists flail as if in full tremor. He bellowed like a cow giving birth. No time for empathy; her brother’s safety depended upon her detachment and cool calm. “Gib’s heading for a meltdown. If he runs past you, don’t try to grab him. All the doors are locked.”
Ethan acknowledged with a nod.
“Gib … take four deep breaths.”
No response, Gib’s bellows became roars.
Ethan gripped the dining room chair. “What happened?”
“I’ll explain later. Try singing … something soft. He hates my singing. I can’t carry a tune.”
Ethan’s melodic
Mary’s Lullaby
performed magic. The roars ebbed, and Gib began to sob, large tears soaking his cheeks. Alexis helped him to the recliner. “Ethan, would you stay in the living room with Gib and keep singing. Jasmine—”
“I know the drill … Mickey’s Diner—chicken—legs only and banana cream pie. Put it on your account.”
“Did Gib have any lunch?”
“He asked for a fried baloney sandwich with ketchup. He only ate half of a half. At least he drank all his Ensure.”
“Well, go … fly like the wind, as they say in the movies, and hurry back.”
Alexis returned to the living room and sat on the arm of the recliner. As Ethan continued the song, Gib’s sobs quieted and his eyes drooped. “Do you want to lie down now?”
He nodded as he dragged himself upstairs.
Ethan’s face contorted into a huge question mark. He glanced at his Rolex. “Kind of early for bed, isn’t it?”
“Gib needs to rest after one of these episodes. Sometimes he goes into a deep sleep and doesn’t wake until morning. He’ll be starving and want his chicken for breakfast.”
Ethan helped her to the couch next to him. “He seemed fine at church.”
“These spells come on all at once without much warning.”
“Does he have them a lot?”
“When I first came, Gib had them quite often. Over the last few months they’ve been sporadic.”
“Anything trigger them?”
“Most of the time, I have no idea what sets him off. The counselor says the spells might be more severe because of the grieving process or the onset of puberty or both.”
Ethan slipped his arm around her and she instinctively leaned against his shoulder, a comfort she could easily get used to if he stuck around long enough. “What happens if he doesn’t pull out, like he did this time?” Ethan asked.
“Not pleasant.”
“What I saw seemed bad enough.”
“His rages can be very hard to control. You notice I don’t have knick knacks, vases, or projectiles in the house. When he’s out of control, he’ll turn over furniture or throw whatever his hands come across until the rage subsides and he collapses from exhaustion.”
Ethan squeezed her hand. “Must be scary to go through these episodes alone. Anyone you can call besides Jasmine?”
“I’ve tried calling the ambulance to bring Gib to the emergency room. The doctors claim his problems are behavioral and mental health says his behavior is secondary to a medical condition. Bottom line, doctors adjust his medications and send him home. Sometimes they hot-line me if he’s hurt himself before help arrives. Right or wrong, I don’t call anyone unless he is dangerously out of control. Sometimes, like today, I can talk him down.”
Ethan pulled her to him and ran his fingers through her hair, a gesture meant more to comfort than arouse. As tender as he tried to be, comfort was elusive, like a rainbow over a distant hill, never quite reachable. No human could comfort her. It was enough that he wanted to.
“You should go. We’ll be fine. Gib’s usually good for at least a few days after one of these episodes. He’s like a geyser. Pressure … release … calm … pressure … release … calm.”
“Does he set fires when he’s experiencing one of these meltdowns as you call them?”
Alexis pushed away. “How do you know about the fires? I didn’t tell you. Those records are supposedly sealed.”
“Um … Kyle …”
“Kyle wouldn’t …”
“I meant to say Jasmine.”
“You’re a lousy liar, Ethan. Why can’t you tell me the truth? How do you know so much about us?”
* * *
Apparently Alexis sensed his interest in Gib went far beyond reasonable curiosity or extravagant generosity.
“My position as honorary president of the National Gideon Foundation allows me to have special access—”
“Not buying it.”
He had to say something. “Okay. You’re right. I
am
a lousy liar. There’s more to my interest in Gib than my connections to Gideon Foundation.”
“I’m listening.”
“I can’t tell you.”
She stood and walked to the other side of the room. “Not good enough. You either tell me the truth, or leave now.”
“Don’t, Alexis. Please. I really care about you. We have the beginnings of something between us. I’d like to see where it might take us.”
“And Gib?”
“Gib’s very special to me.”
“Why?”
“I told you. I can’t tell you. Not yet.”
“You need to leave. Now.”
His head pounded … should he go full steam ahead? Why did the court have to gag him? How could telling Alexis be harmful? Seemed she might welcome the truth, be happy Gib wouldn’t have to go into foster care or an institution.
His heart said,
I’m Gib’s father. I didn’t know about him until a year ago. I’m here now. And I want to give him whatever he needs to make it through this life. I want to be a better father to him than my father was to me.
He walked to the door. “It will all come to light soon.” When the door closed behind him, he forced himself to look toward a future far different than the one he’d hoped for this afternoon. After witnessing Gib’s horrendous rage and knowing Alexis had to endure these so frequently, it seemed logical she’d be glad Gib would have private care around the clock. No longer a need for locked cabinets and refrigerators.
Yet, no amount of paid help could compare with Alexis’s love for her brother. And, in spite of his withdrawal, Gib cared for her, too. Until this afternoon, Ethan had seen himself as his son’s savior. What if he had become a millstone, instead? Ethan could see reasons why Gib shouldn’t be taken from his sister. Yet, the authorities seemed determined to do so. Was it all so cut and dry? Were there options not yet explored?
Kyle met Ethan outside and walked with him while Tom brought the car around. “You look beat, Ethan,” Kyle said.
“Tired isn’t the word for it.”
Kyle piled into the front with Tom, and Ethan rested his head against the leathery backseat. He closed his eyes, but not in sleep as he hoped his bodyguards would think. Instead, he lifted a desperate plea to the heavens, more desperate than his first Christmas prayer.
* * *
Alexis dropped into the recliner. She’d been a fool. Her head throbbed from disappointment. Had she been hasty and amputated something wonderful because of paranoia?
She’d somehow cope with the demands of the week and cling to the hope that God had it all under control, in spite of the fact her soul splashed in deep pools of doubt. If Ethan Jacobs moved to the Guilford Residence permanently as he claimed he planned, she’d find a way to value his friendship and nothing more, for Gib’s sake. The man had done him no harm, and likely wouldn’t. Why couldn’t she trust him?
Jasmine returned with fried chicken legs and banana cream pie. Alexis checked on Gib. Sound asleep. True friendship needed no lengthy explanations when the heart ached. Jasmine went to the refrigerator and came back holding a half gallon of Rocky Road ice-cream. Since the eighth grade, the cure for every date gone wrong.