I thought it might be wise to give him space for a while, but I knew it was going to be impossible to stay away. I was already concocting plans, figuring out ways in which I might bring him back to his old self. Even though it had taken years, finding him had been the easy part. Healing him would be the greatest challenge I’d ever faced.
I decided not to tell anyone about our son yet, but I’d let King know that Elaine was alive as soon as I could. I thought that would ease his mind somewhat, give him hope. I also needed to tell him that he hadn’t been the one to kill Bruce. He needed to know.
When I arrived home, I sat in the car for a few minutes, trying to compose myself. It was pointless, though, because Karla was going to know something was up the second she saw me.
The house was quiet when I stepped inside and dropped my keys on the end table. The TV was on low, and Karla sat on the couch, scrolling through the messages on her phone.
“Hey,” I said quietly.
She turned to me and looked up, her eyes taking me in. “Hey, you’re back.”
“Yeah, how was he?”
“Well-behaved but chatty, as usual,” she told me with a soft smile that quickly faded. “Lexie, is everything okay?”
I couldn’t help it — I sniffled. She was up from her seat and taking me into her arms within seconds, holding me close. My words were tiny, barely audible, when I whispered, “I found him.”
Karla sucked in a shocked breath and pulled back to look down at me. Several emotions crossed her face, mostly surprise. “King? You found King?”
I nodded.
“Where is he?”
“Not far, but Karla, he’s changed, so changed. I’m not even sure if….” My voice broke and was replaced with sobs. Karla pulled me close again.
“Hey, hey, it’s all right. You’ll get through this, you have me. I’ll do everything I can to help.”
Her words soothed me a little, and even though I’d been there for her through some really tough times over the past few years, I felt embarrassed that I was crying. After a minute I pulled away and went to grab a tissue to dry my face.
“Can you take Oliver again tomorrow?”
Karla nodded. “Of course. Anything you need.”
A few minutes later she left, and I climbed the stairs for bed, knowing I probably wouldn’t sleep a wink. I ducked my head inside Oliver’s room and found him sleeping soundly, his light breathing filling the space. I loved him just as much as I loved his father, but I’d only managed to keep one of them safe.
The thought almost broke me.
Closing the door over gently, I went to my own room and crawled into bed. I closed my eyes, but, as predicted, sleep never came. I finally drifted off after hours of racing thoughts, and was woken up the next morning by my son poking at me.
“I’m hungry,” he complained. I’m not sure why, but there was just something about his cranky, entitled little face that made me laugh amid all the sadness. I sat up and pulled him to me, pressing a soft kiss to his head and cuddling him close. He giggled, and I lifted him up with me, tickling him under the arms and making him wriggle like crazy.
“Stop it!” he yelped in glee. His words instantly sobered me, and I set him down on the floor. They echoed what King had said last night, when he’d thought I was some spectre concocted by his mind just to torture him. Remembering, I led Oliver downstairs and began absentmindedly pulling out pots and pans to make breakfast. I let him help me put the bread in the toaster. He loved to help. Then he sat and watched as I cracked some eggs, stirred them up, and poured them into the pan to make an omelette.
“Are you sad again, Mummy?” he asked.
I wasn’t sure if he was particularly tuned in to people’s emotions, or if he was just good at reading me because we spent so much time together, but he always seemed to sense how I was feeling. I mustered a smile for him.
“No, I’m not sad, baby, just tired.”
“After breakfast we can bring all our blankets downstairs and watch The Lego Movie,” he suggested, like it was a sure fire way to cheer me up.
“I have to go somewhere today,” I told him regretfully. “But your Aunt Karla is coming again to mind you. Maybe she’ll want to watch it.”
He scrunched up his nose. “But she always sings the song. I like Aunt Karla, but I don’t like it when she sings the song.”
His response surprised a laugh out of me, because it was true — Karla didn’t have a note in her head.
“Okay, maybe I’ll tell her not to sing during the movie. How does that sound?”
He looked appeased, replying fervently, “Yes, please tell her that.”
After we ate I made quick work of bathing and dressing him, then did the same for myself. I put on some dark green skinnies, a yellow blouse, and ballet flats. I had an idea to get King to interact with me, but it was going to be a long shot. I planned to bring my chessboard to the circus and see if he’d play. We didn’t have to talk at all, but if I could at least get him to play, it’d be a start.
Karla arrived and I was off, driving back into the city again. I’d exchanged numbers with both Jay and Lille the previous night, so I tapped out a text to them saying I was on my way. It was almost lunchtime, but I wasn’t sure if the circus did daytime shows or just nighttime ones. Anyhow, I hoped it was quiet so I could find a decent parking space. A couple of minutes before I arrived, I received a text from Jay, telling me he’d meet me at the front of the tent.
I parked close by, got out, hitched my bag up on my shoulder (it was heavy because of the chessboard and all the pieces), and made my way to the entrance. When I got there I almost stumbled over my own feet, because standing beside Jay was the gypsy woman, Marina. King’s half-sister. She’d hardly changed at all since I’d last seen her, and when she looked at me, her eyes held a mix of warmth and wariness.
“Hello, love,” she said in greeting as she held her hand out. “I’m Marina. This is my circus.”
“You’re King’s sister,” I replied, not knowing what else to say.
She nodded, those wise old eyes of her eyes blinking slowly. A small capuchin monkey sat on her shoulder, which I would have found odd if she didn’t own a circus. I could just imagine Oliver’s excitement if he were here. Whenever I’d taken him to the London Zoo, he’d always gone apeshit for the monkeys – no pun intended.
“So Bruce Mitchell was your father?” I went on.
“That’s right, though I’d say by blood only. That man was never much of a parent.” Her voice was hard when she spoke of him, and I instantly knew she must have had just as much of an awful time with Bruce as King did. Perhaps that’s how they bonded. Also, she used the past tense, so I presumed she knew he was dead, but did she know that King hadn’t been the one to kill him?
“King didn’t kill him, you know that, right?” I blurted.
Her eyes widened as she shook her head. “I didn’t, but I do now. Young Jason here informed me.” My attention wandered to Jay, and I remembered how I’d told him last night, how he had a knack for pulling information out of me. “Though honestly,” Marina continued, “even if he had killed him, I wouldn’t have blamed him. Bruce was a despicable human being.”
For a second I was taken aback by the harshness of her words, the stark honesty in them. A silence fell between us, and I began to feel self-conscious as she studied me. What she said next almost knocked the wind out of my sails.
“You’re a mother,” she stated.
I sucked in a breath. “What?” How the hell could she know that?