looked it. This was not a new scene to Chris, or Ian.
“I’ll take care of it,” Chris said through a clenched jaw and handed him to Francesca. Kimberly hadn’t stirred. “Take him back to the house.” Francesca nodded, and Ian took her hand as they walked out, as Chris jabbed his finger into his ex-wife’s shoulder. She didn’t move, and he suddenly wondered if she had OD’d while Ian played the machines. He felt for a pulse in her neck, and while he was looking for it, she groaned, and then threw up all over the table where she lay. Her face was lying in it. One of the waitresses saw what happened and came over with a towel. Chris pulled her head back with a hunk of hair clenched in his fist. She opened her eyes as the vomit dripped off her face. And hating her, he cleaned it. Heroin always did that to her, especially if she hadn’t had any for a while. And she’d been in rehab for two weeks. It was an easy way to OD after being clean.
“Oh… hi…” she said vaguely. “Where’s Ian?”
“He went home.” And then without even knowing he’d done it, he put a hand around her neck and squeezed. Her eyes opened wide as she stared at him, but she was too high to even be frightened, just confused. “If you ever do that again… if you ever touch him, grab him, take him anywhere… see him without supervision… I swear, Kim, I’ll kill you.” And as he stood there nearly choking her, he wanted to. For one crazed uncontrollable moment he wanted to snap her neck, and then with his whole body shaking, he let go. “Don’t you
Chris gave the driver forty dollars and her father’s address, and he looked down at Kim with disgust and the dying embers of his fury. “Go see your father. He’ll take care of you. And stay away from Ian until you’re clean.”
“Thank you,” she said, trying to focus on him, and then she laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. Chris looked at her and slammed the door of the cab. He was shaking all over as they drove away. He had almost killed her. He had wanted to, which terrified him. He walked for a few blocks and hailed another cab and got in. He gave him the address on Charles Street, and stared silently out the window all the way there, realizing that his life and Ian’s would have been destroyed if he had lost control and killed her. He never wanted to see her again. She was the worst thing that had ever happened to him. And Ian was the best thing. He tried to focus on that on the ride home.
Chapter 21
CHRIS COULD HEAR Marya and Francesca in the kitchen with Ian when he got home. Charles-Edouard was cooking something for them. And Chris went upstairs, took a shower, and changed his clothes. He was still shaken by what he had almost done to her. He had been terrified all the way back from Miami. He never knew what kind of life-threatening situation she would put their son in.
He looked shaken and subdued as he walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Ian looked up at him with the thousand-year-old eyes that ripped Chris’s heart to shreds.
“Where’s Mom?” He was worried, and afraid that his father was angry at him. He wasn’t. He was scared. By what had happened, what could have happened, and what he had almost done. It was a wake-up call to him. He couldn’t let her get to him again. Ever. He had almost lost control.
“I sent her to your grandfather’s. He’ll know what to do with her.” He would take her back to rehab, for the ten millionth time, and she would walk away again. Until one day she was dead. Chris didn’t need to kill her. She was already dead, and had died years before when she started shooting up. She had done it even before they met. He just didn’t know. “She’ll be okay, Ian.” For now. For a while. But not for long. She’d never be okay again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I was very worried. I don’t want you going off with her again. You can see her, but there has to be someone there.” Ian nodded, and Chris walked toward him and gave him a long hug. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He had seen it a thousand times before. He wondered how you apologize to your son for giving him a mother like that. Or worse, if he had killed her. The thought made him shudder and Ian felt it. He felt sorry for his dad.
“It’s okay. She wasn’t too bad. Just a little sick.” It was pathetic that that was his definition of “not too bad.” They had both seen her much worse. Chris wanted to take another bath, to scrub his insides and his mind, and all the memories from Ian’s memory too. But he knew he couldn’t do that. And one day Ian would have to sort it all out for himself. It was the legacy she had left him. They had been to hell and back with her. Chris turned and saw Francesca then for the first time. He hadn’t even noticed her when he walked into the room. He smiled at her and saw how upset she was too. It had been a horrifying scene, and it only got worse after she left.
“Thank you for bringing Ian home.” He sat down at the kitchen table, and Francesca sat down next to him and looked into his eyes.
“It’s okay, Chris. You’re both going to be fine.” She smiled at Ian then, and he cuddled up next to her, and she took him in her arms. “Well, that was a little bit of excitement.” She smiled at Ian, and he laughed, and they all slowly began to unwind.
Marya made them something to eat, and then she and Ian showed Chris and Francesca all the Christmas decorations they’d made over the weekend. The little tree looked beautiful, and Ian looked proud. And little by little the nightmare they’d just been through began to slip from their minds. It could have been much worse.
“Why don’t we all go up to Vermont next weekend?” Marya suggested. “It’s probably going to be our last chance, and it would be fun to be there together.” Francesca loved the idea. It was where their life as a couple began. Ian loved the idea too, and even Chris smiled.
It wasn’t until late that afternoon that Chris had a moment alone with Francesca in her room.
“I’m sorry you had to see that. It’s not a pretty part of my life.” He was as ashamed as though he had done it. He was more ashamed at what he had almost done to his ex-wife.
“It’s not your fault,” she said quietly, and put her arms around him. “I’m glad I was there.”
“So am I.” He might have been even crazier if she weren’t.
He kissed her, and felt as though he were being lifted out of the past. With her, it was a whole new life. Kim was the nightmare, and Francesca was the dream.
As Marya had suggested, they all went to Vermont that weekend, and they all had a good time. They played in the snow, went for long walks, and took photographs of each other. They went to local restaurants and taverns. Chris took Ian to a nearby ski resort early Sunday morning, rented skis, and took a few runs with him. They all wanted to cling to every minute. They didn’t know when they’d be together again. Charles-Edouard decided it for them.
“You’re all coming to the South of France next summer. Marya and I are going to rent a villa. In July. We want the three of you to come over.” Ian clapped his hands and looked thrilled, and Chris and Francesca agreed. Marya and Charles-Edouard were coming to Vermont in August, so they would see them again then. This wasn’t the last chapter in their friendship. It was just the beginning. They were all starting new lives now. Chris had told Ian that morning that he was moving upstairs with Francesca, and Ian was going to have his own room from then on.
“That’s good,” Ian said solemnly, “’cause you snore.” Francesca laughed when he said it.
“Now you tell me,” she said, but she was relieved that Ian wasn’t upset.
They sang Christmas carols in French and English on the ride back to New York, and Marya had given them the keys to the house in Vermont and told them to use it whenever they wanted. It was going to be wonderful for them.
Ian fell asleep on the drive home. And Chris carried him in when they got back. He stirred for a minute and looked at his father as though he had something important to tell him.
“Can we get a dog?”
