Accelerated (27 page)

“No, I’m glad you’re here. Come on,” she said, leading him to the living room.

“Mr. Sean,” Divina said. “May I hang your coat?”

“Oh …” He hesitated, then handed it to her. “Thanks.”

He hadn’t been here for years and found himself marveling at the skylights above the double-high ceilings. “The school told everyone to leave you alone.” He sat in an upholstered armchair. “But I should have come sooner.”

“You’ve had your share of shit recently,” she said. Her eyes welled. “I’m so glad Toby is okay.”

He nodded. “Me too.” It came out barely a whisper.

“Can I get you some coffee?” He’d never thought of Melanie having a round face, but now, in comparison to just a few weeks before, her cheeks looked hollow, drawn. “I was just about to make some.”

It was almost five-thirty. Coffee was the last thing he wanted. “Sure.”

He watched Melanie disappear into the kitchen and his heart ached for her. The grief diet had left her frail and drawn. She was as wrecked from losing Calvin as he was overjoyed to have Toby back. How was she able to function at all, much less prepare coffee for him? He’d be curled up in a ball under the table if Toby had … he couldn’t even think the word.

He looked around. The place was immaculate, a huge arrangement of fresh flowers at the entrance. He tried to imagine grieving in a place this tidy. The furniture, the lamps—even the knickknacks—were expensive and looked highly breakable. Nothing was out of place; there wasn’t an errant newspaper or a stack of old
New Yorkers
, no sneakers by the door or pile of mail to sort through. Sitting still was too hard, so he took a tour of the Drakes’ photos.

On the top shelf was a picture of baby Calvin buck naked on a sheepskin rug. It was only then that he realized Calvin had had those intense eyes from day one. In another, Calvin, maybe age six, smiled backstage with his sister and parents at
The Nutcracker
surrounded by sugarplum fairies. In another, Calvin shook hands with Mayor Bloomberg. He smiled proudly in a shot with his big sister at the Spring Fair. He recognized Calvin’s Wolverine costume in a photo from Halloween just a few weeks before Sean found him on the stairs. Calvin’s entire life was laid out in these photos. It was all in the past now, his history complete. He knew that someday he’d have photos of Toby at his prom, of Toby graduating from college, of Toby’s wedding and of Toby playing with his own kids. Two weeks ago, none of that was a given. He could easily have been like the Drakes, stuck with the knowledge that there would never be any more photos, no more memories except for the ones already made. He had no doubt Melanie looked at these photos daily, agonizing over not having taken more, for not documenting every second of his life. He swallowed and tried to shake it off. Crying now was not an option.

He walked back to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. The door to Calvin’s room was shut. He wondered if they’d touched it since he died, if the bed was made, if the sheets had been washed. He guessed not. Next to it, Susannah’s door was wide open. Her room jumped with polka dots of different sizes and colors. A stuffed gorilla rested on her pillow. Her Bradley soccer jersey hung on the wall above her bed. He turned to go but caught sight of a card on her desk. Written in crayon in careful eight-year-old handwriting: Happy Birthday to the Best Sister Ever.

“Cream or sugar?” Melanie called from the kitchen.

He rushed out of Susannah’s room and into the living room. “Black’s great,” he said. He was nervous, guilty, and came in too close to the bookshelf. His arm brushed something heavy and, he was sure, expensive. He drew a sharp inhale as he heard the thing thud into a shiny trash can by his feet. He stooped to dig out a gold egg decorated with colorful enamel. He let out his breath slowly when he saw that it was in one piece, and placed it carefully back on the shelf.

Melanie emerged from the kitchen balancing a coffee pot and matching cups on a tray. As he sat opposite her, he could feel her misery hanging in the air. She put her coffee cup down without drinking and gave him a pained look. “How’s Toby feeling?”

“Better. Much better.” Chewing off his limbs would be more pleasant than this. “He misses Calvin. Lots.”

Melanie pulled a tissue from her sleeve. “I know …” She blew her nose and wiped away some tears. “It’s still so raw.”

Divina emerged on cue from the kitchen and placed a new box of Kleenex on the side table next to Melanie and then slipped out again.

He took a sip of the coffee and put the cup next to a porcelain bowl filled with mixed nuts. He remembered the nuts from the last time he was here. They were a staple of the Drakes’ décor. Did someone replenish the nuts, he wondered, or were these the same ones that had been here for years? The one thing he did know, however, was that if he’d had an ounce of doubt about his theory before, that was now gone.

“I have to ask you something.”

She waited.

“Did Calvin really have a peanut allergy?”

She squeezed her eyes and nodded.

“Because Toby didn’t have an allergy. His heart went haywire because of medication the school pushed me to give him. I thought … I thought maybe the same thing happened to Calvin.”

Tears started to flow from her eyes. Melanie cried silently in her perfect living room. “Calvin had a peanut allergy.” She shredded the tissue distractedly. “It only developed recently.”

“If it was the medication, you can tell me.”

“Susannah will be home soon,” she said, standing. “I should …”

“Of course.” He felt her close off abruptly, completely. She wasn’t going to tell him anything. “Call me whenever you want.” He meant it. He wanted to help her even though he knew he couldn’t. “If there’s anything I can do … if there’s anything you want to talk about.”

She nodded.

He left her in her beautiful apartment. When he got outside he felt a dismal rush of relief at being able to put some distance between himself and the oppressive sadness. Melanie would never be able to leave it behind. It would follow her wherever she went.

A couple of blocks later, he heard someone calling after him. It was a woman’s voice. He stopped when he saw Divina running after him.

“Mr. Sean,” she said, catching her breath.

“Did I leave something in the apartment?”

She shook her head quickly and glanced nervously behind her.

“What? What’s the matter?”

“For you,” she said, pulling some crumpled papers from her pocket and putting them into his hand. He held two pieces of stationery that he realized were actually one piece that had been torn in half and balled up. “I found it in the trash. Maybe it will answer your questions.”

He held the pieces next to each other, trying to read it, but it was difficult. “… I evaluated children in the private school system … His death worries me on many levels … evaluations often result in ADHD diagnoses … imperative that you get back to me …”

He looked at the return address. It was from someone named Hutch Garvey who lived at 203 Military Drive, Chesswick, Pennsylvania.

“She doesn’t know I came after you,” Divina said. “Okay?”

His heart pounded. “Thank you.”

He hopped in the first taxi he saw and was home fifteen minutes later. He’d barely opened his front door when Toby ran at him, saying, “Dad, come see what I did!”

“How was work?” Ellie asked, in an uncharacteristic June Cleaver tone. “Good … okay,” he said as Toby pulled him toward the bedroom.

Toby had created a tent by draping Buzz Lightyear sheets over the furniture. “Come into my fort,” he said, and crawled in on his knees. Sean got down on all fours and crawled in, too. “We can look at comics,” Toby said, propping himself on a pillow. He spread a pile over the rug and handed Sean a flashlight. “Or we could tell ghost stories.”

“I love ghost stories,” Sean said. “You sure you won’t be too scared?”

“I’m not scared of anything.”

He wondered if this were true after what Toby had gone through. He had no intention of finding out. “Let’s read this one,” he said, reaching for a
Green Hornet
special.

“Dinner’s ready,” Ellie called from the kitchen. “Veggie burger time!”

“Awww,” Toby said. “Do we have to?”

“Wait here.” He winked and crawled out.

Ellie had put the fake burgers at their places. Sean picked them up, pasting a smile over the grimace. “Let’s all eat in the fort tonight.”

“There’s no food in the bedroom,” she said. “It’s the rule.”

“Maybe it’s time for a new rule.” He forced another smile. “Toby will love it.”

She was trying to go with it, but he could tell she was having a hard time. “Okay” she said. “Sure. You go ahead. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

He crawled back into the fort carrying the burgers. “Dinner is served.”

Toby looked skeptical. “We’re not allowed to eat in the bedroom.”

“New rule.”

“Won’t Mommy be mad?”

“She’s coming too. In a minute.”

A cloud of worry passed over his features. “You sure?”

Sean nodded and took a bite of the burger. It wasn’t bad. “Mmm. Try it.”

“I’m going to get Mommy first,” he said, and darted out of the fort. He was back a moment later. “She’s resting.”

“She’s asleep?”

Toby nodded.

Ellie had been napping a lot. It was all coming back to him, how she’d slept almost all the time last summer when she’d been depressed. “I don’t think she slept well last night.” He was good at making excuses for her.

They looked at comics while they ate in the fort, then Sean told a ghost story that ended up not being too scary, just in case. The icing on the cake was the Snickers bar he’d snuck in from the outside.

“Mom’s been trying to give me this gross thing called scarab,” Toby said, devouring the candy bar. “Why would she do that?”

“Carob,” Sean said, gratified by Toby’s smile, which was covered in chocolate. “And I have no idea.”

When Toby fell asleep, Sean pulled a blanket over him, turned off his flashlight and crept out quietly. Ellie was asleep, fully clothed, on the bed, a trickle of drool at the corner of her mouth.

“Ellie,” he whispered. “Ellie?” She was out cold.

I need to see you
, he typed into his phone.
Can you meet me at the bar?

When Jess wrote back saying she’d be there in ten, he scribbled a note on the back of an envelope, saying he was at the drug store. Ellie wouldn’t wake up, but just in case. He grabbed his jacket and slipped out quietly.

The temperature outside had dropped. He sprinted through the whipping wind to Rite Aid for a tube of toothpaste he could use to provide an alibi. There was no reason he shouldn’t be meeting Jess. Or maybe there was. It was a gray area he needed to think through. All he knew was that he missed Jess and she was the only person he could talk to.

She was grading math quizzes at the bar and when she saw him it was like a light switched on in her. He wondered if the bartender noticed that she was sort of glowing. But she caught herself and tamped it down.

“How’s Toby?”

“Toby’s good. He’s great.”

She smiled. “And everything else?”

Everything else
had to mean Ellie. Him and Ellie. “Everything else is … complicated.”

“Complicated.” Her voice trailed off. “Back together?”

“No,” he said. “Not back together.” A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. “We’re together … as roommates,” he said. “For now.” He probably could have stopped, but he felt compelled to keep talking. “Toby needs his mom, and I have to work, so … it kind of made sense for everyone. On some level.”

“That
is
complicated.”

“I’m sleeping on the couch,” he blurted out.

“As I recall, that couch is quite comfortable.”

“It’s much less comfortable without company.”

He checked her ring finger. The miniscule thing was back on.

“What about you and the FedEx man?”

“Complicated.”

“I guess it’s none of my business.”

“Not if you’re a married man living with your wife.”

“Come on, you’re not really going to marry that guy,” he said with a Tourette’s-like lack of control.

She fixed him with her vapor-blue eyes and flashed him a half smile. “For the record, I’ve been looking for my own place.”

“That’s great,” he said. “I mean, I’m sorry?” He had no idea what to make of the swarming bees ricocheting around his chest at the idea of Jess being unengaged. “You’re still wearing the ring.”

“Yeah,” she said, tugging at it. “I have to tell Chris. He’s going to be really pissed. So I’ve been kind of gathering my courage.” She took another sip of her drink.

“Is that Scotch?”

“I thought that’s what we drink here.”

He flagged down the bartender and ordered one for himself.

He wondered if he’d figured into her decision to move out. “Have you found any apartments?”

“There’s a place on 154th and Amsterdam that I can almost afford.”

“That’s kind of a sketchy neighborhood, isn’t it?” He imagined her coming home late, getting ogled by the crack dealers. He didn’t know if there actually were crack dealers, but there might be. And if there were, it would be dangerous.

“It seems okay.” She shrugged. “Anything will be better than staying.” She finished her drink, grimaced, then eyed the quizzes. “I should get back.”

“Let me buy you another one.”

“That would be one too many,” she said. ““Besides, I should really …”

“Stay a little longer. I want to read you something.” He’d taped the letter as best he could. “The Drakes received this in the mail.”

She sat forward for a better view. “You were at the Drakes’?”

“Their cleaning lady gave it to me. Listen.” He cleared his throat:

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Drake
,

My name is Hutch Garvey. I’m a clinical psychiatrist who specializes in childhood ADHD. I evaluated children in the private school system for over twenty years and taught classes in early childhood development and the development of the adolescent mind at Teachers College. I’ve written several books on the subject of Attention Deficit
.