Read Beautiful Beast (Enchanted Fairytales) Online
Authors: Cindy C Bennett
“I didn’t . . . I couldn’t . . . I tried . . . I . . . but I failed.” Alex couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Alex, son, do you think it’s your fault they died?”
“I’m sorry.” He hung his head miserably.
“Alex, no. It’s not—” He pulled Alex into his arms, holding him tightly and Alex felt the dam burst. He’d been holding onto it for so long, but he couldn’t take this, couldn’t take his father’s arms around him. He shoved his father violently away.
“Of course it’s my fault!” he exploded. “If I had come home like I was supposed to, I could have gotten them out. Don’t tell me you don’t blame me! I see it every time you look at me.”
His father listened with his mouth agape. “Alex, it is
not
your fault.” Alex looked at him, not sure he’d heard right. “Listen to me, son, this is not your responsibility, not in the slightest. You were
seven
years old. Even if you’d been there, you couldn’t have gotten them out. And instead of losing my wife and daughter, I would have lost everything. I would have lost you also. I thank God every day that you were spared.” Alex shook his head, denying his father’s words. “Alex, this is
my
fault. Do you know how the fire started?”
Alex hadn’t ever thought about it. It just was. “No,” he answered.
“There was a gas leak. I should have known that. I should have taken care of it. She lit a match, to start the oven. There’s no way she could have been saved, Alex.” Alex shivered and closed his eyes against the image.
“Whenever I look at you,” his father said, “I see what I’m guilty of.” Alex opened his eyes and leveled them on his father. “I’m selfishly grateful that you lived, so that I could have my son at least, even when you’re forced to live with my negligence. All those weeks in the hospital, all those months of therapy, the intense pain you’ve suffered through. I couldn’t stand it, Alex. I couldn’t stand knowing what I had done. I’d taken your mother from you, and your sister, and I’ve caused you to have to live the rest of your life with the scars of that.”
“But you . . .” Alex took a deep breath, clenching and unclenching his fists a few times, feeling the familiar ache in his arm and leg. “You weren’t there. Ever.”
“I was there, Alex, every day. I just couldn’t face you. I couldn’t deal with the guilt.”
“Didn’t you think that maybe I needed you?”
His father looked surprised by the very idea. “I . . . no, I thought you couldn’t look at me, knowing what I’d done.”
“And I thought you couldn’t look at me knowing what I’d done,” Alex said, his anger suddenly draining.
They stood silently, watching one another.
“I’m sorry, Alex, for making you feel I’d abandoned you. I tried to provide you the best of everything to make your life easier. It never occurred to me that what you needed most was me.”
The torment in his father’s voice attested to the truth of his words. Alex walked to the table and picked up the box of ornaments.
“Well, then we’re both stubborn fools for not saying anything.” He pulled one of the ornaments gently from the box and handed it to his father. His father took it and with his other hand clasped Alex’s shoulder. Alex covered his father’s hand with his own, a silent show of forgiveness.
“Let’s get these ornaments on the tree,” his father said.
“We’d better,” Alex answered, “because Calli won’t let us put the star on top until we do.”
His father laughed and shook his head. “Your mother was exactly the same way.”
* * * * *
Calli stood in the hallway. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop
, but they were loud. And then she didn’t want to interrupt. Their words brought tears to her eyes. She’d read about the fire on the internet. She could understand why Alex never had read about it himself. What she couldn’t understand was in all their years of therapy, neither of them had been together to talk about it. It seemed such a waste, for the little boy to suffer so much pain waiting for his father’s love, and the father afraid to love because he blamed himself for the boy’s pain.
She wiped her face, schooling her features when they’d been silent a few minutes. She knew it was useless to look for a mirror to check herself in—she’d long ago discovered the only mirror in the entire house was the one in her bathroom. She scrubbed her hair, pinched her cheeks, and picked up the eggnog tray that lay on the side table. Pasting a smile on her face, she walked into the room.
“One tray of Javier’s famous eggnog. Or so I’ve been told. That it’s famous I mean.”
Alex and his father looked at her from where they hung the ornaments. Calli poured them both an eggnog, and handed one to each. She picked up her own and walked over to the tree, fingering one of the newest ornaments.
“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Winston asked.
“Mm, very,” she said. “They remind me of our ornaments at home. Only ours are green and gold.”
Alex hung the last ornament, and turned to her with the star. “Here you go, Calli. We’ve hung everything else. Now can the star go on?”
“Yes, Mr. Smarty, it can go on now.” He handed it to her and she pushed it back at him. “You should hang it, Alex.”
“No, I think you should,” he said.
“I agree,” Winston said. “After all, it was your rule.”
Calli smiled. “I’d love to, but . . .”
“But what?” Alex asked.
“I can’t reach. I’m not tall enough. You’re the tallest one here, Alex.”
“I’ll help,” he said. He squatted down, patting his shoulder. “Climb on.”
“No,” she said, backing up. “I can’t. What if I hurt you?”
He exhaled with frustration. “Calli, I carried you all the way back to the house that day I chased you.”
“That was you?”
“Of course it was. Who did you think?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “And I carried you up two flights of stairs when you decided to work out in slippers. Lifting you up to put a star on the tree won’t hurt me, I assure you.”
“You carried her up two flights of stairs?” Winston asked with surprise.
Calli and Alex ignored Winston as she looked at him. She realized it was true. He’d be able to lift her without any problem. She weighed less than the weights he put on his barbell.
“Okay,” she said, climbing on. She wrapped both hands around either side of his face as he stood, feeling the bumpy unevenness beneath her right hand. It startled her. She tended to forget they were there. She realized that when she looked at Alex, she rarely saw the scars.
Once he was standing, Winston picked up the star and handed it to her. She reached up and placed the star on top of the tree, securing it firmly. Alex crouched again so she could climb off. When he stood, she grinned at him. Together they looked up at the tree. Winston moved to stand on the other side of Alex, placing an arm lightly across his son’s shoulders. Calli glanced up at Alex at the gesture, saw the slight lift at the corner of his mouth.
“You guys did a great job,” Winston said.
“We did,” Alex said, turning his gaze and smile on Calli. He slipped his hand into hers, low where Winston couldn’t see, and she squeezed his hand. Who would have ever imagined, four months ago, that she’d be happy to be standing in the middle of Monster House, holding hands with the monster himself?
* * * * *
Calli couldn’t stop staring at her father.
It was Christmas Eve, and he’d come to the Stratford’s. Rather than her going home for the holiday, he’d come to stay the night here so they could spend Christmas morning with Alex and Winston. Tonight was the big party for the whole staff and their families. No matter how much she’d begged and cajoled, Calli had been unable to convince Alex to come to the party. The staff was used to him and didn’t look at him any differently than they would anyone, but their families didn’t know him.
Calli’s father, though, looked like a different man than she’d seen last on Thanksgiving. He was clean shaven, something he hadn’t been for . . . well, her whole life. Not only that, his skin was pink instead of gray. He’d lost some weight, but in a good way. He was dressed nicely, and his eyes—his eyes were clear. Not foggy with drunkenness or a hangover. His breath was even good.
He’d gone down to say hi to Alex, and had come back alone, also having failed to talk Alex into coming up. Still, Calli was awestruck that he’d even made the effort. Not so long ago he wouldn’t have cared about anyone except himself. Now he was walking among these strangers, talking, interacting. And Calli couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was nearly unrecognizable.
Best of all, she never saw him with a single drink in his hand that wasn’t alcohol free.
When it was nearly time for dinner, she snuck away and went down the stairs. She doubted she could get Alex to come up, but she wasn’t about to allow him to eat alone on Christmas Eve. She made her way to his room and knocked. No answer. She knocked again. Still no answer. Wondering if he was ignoring her purposely, she opened the door.
She stuck her head around the corner, and saw that while his room was only dimly lit by a desk lamp, the room beyond was bright. “Alex?” she called.
He stepped into the light, smiling. “Come in,” he said.
She entered and walked over to the room. When she got there, he stepped out and closed the door behind him.
“Close your eyes,” he said. “I have a surprise for you.”
He led her into the room. “Okay, open them.”
Calli did so, and saw that he had strung the room with Christmas lights. The table was covered with a red tablecloth, and decorated as fancily as the one upstairs, including three lit candles in the center. She could smell the food that had been prepared by Javier. She turned to Alex.
“What if I hadn’t come?”
He held her gaze. “I knew you’d come.”
“Am I that predictable?”
He smiled. “You’re that dependable.”
“Ugh,” she groaned. “How boring.”
“Okay,” he laughed. “You’re that kindhearted. You wouldn’t want me to eat alone.”
“More like that selfish. I’d much rather be with you than with all those people I don’t even know.”
“And you wanted me to come up there?”
“Well,” Calli reasoned, “if you were up there, then I wouldn’t have had to come down here to be with you.”
“Come up and let them stare, so they can go spread even more stories about the beast of Monster House? No thanks.”
Calli cocked her head, thinking. “Do you plan to hide out forever?”
“No, of course not,” he said. “Well, maybe. Probably. I don’t know.”
“Nice to know you’re not undecided or anything, that you’ve given this lots of thought.”
“Can we eat now?” he asked irritably. “I’m hungry.”
She sat at the table. “Don’t make me regret coming down here to bask in your cheerful holiday spirit, Alex.”
He sighed and sat opposite her. “Sorry.”
“Forgiven,” she said. “Did you notice my dad?”
Alex looked at her oddly. “It would be hard not to notice him, Calli. He came down to further your agenda in getting me to the party.”
She ignored his words. “He looks . . . different. Good.”
“He did look a little better than when he came at Thanksgiving, but honestly I thought maybe he was just feeling a little sick or something. Is that how he normally looks?”
“Yeah. For as long as I can remember.”
“So what do you think changed?”
Calli smiled. “I think your dad kept his promise and got him into rehab.”
“He finally did something good, huh?”
“Alex,” Calli chided. “Give your dad a break. He’s been pretty good lately.”
“Yeah, I know,” he agreed. “Old habit, I guess.”
“Well, maybe it’s time to start some new habits.”
“Oh great,” he moaned sarcastically. “Calli is in her fix-it mode again.”
“Ha-ha,” she mocked.
* * * * *
Calli sat in front of Winston’s desk, wringing her hands nervously.
“It’s a bad idea, Calli.”
“It’s not a bad idea. It’s a
great
idea. He can’t keep hiding forever.”
“Have you asked him about this?”
“Well . . .no,” she admitted. She’d come to ask Winston if she could have a New Year’s Eve party at the house so that Alex could meet some other kids his age. Maybe if he had some friends, he might not think he had to live like a hermit for the rest of his life. “I need your permission first.
Then
I’ll tell him about it.”
“’Tell him about it,’” he repeated with a chuckle. “Not ask him.”
“If I ask, he’ll say no. Don’t worry, I’ll talk him into it.”
Winston laughed outright. “I believe that if anyone can do that, Calli, it’s you.”