Alex
Adam J Nicolai
Alex
Adam J Nicolai
Second Edition
Published by Adam J Nicolai for Amazon Kindle
Copyright 2011 Adam J Nicolai
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from Adam J Nicolai, except for brief, properly credited quotations.
Cover Design by Jason Godfrey and Adam J Nicolai
Cover Image © 2011 Adam J Nicolai
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
ISBN-10: 0-9849264-0-2
ISBN-13: 978-0-9849264-0-4
For my children, who changed my life.
1
In the hallway, Alex was laughing.
The sound should have grated on Ian.
He was late for work, as always - furiously brushing his teeth as the seconds galloped past - and instead of getting dressed, his son was in the hall, playing with toys.
The boy had no urgency in the morning, no matter how much Ian begged, threatened or explained.
Most mornings Ian would be yelling.
Alex, hurry up!
Get dressed!
We are
late!
But today was different.
Alex had turned five this year, and suddenly, that easy laughter - so simple, so pure - was getting rarer.
Sometimes it felt like Ian hardly heard it at all.
He heard Alex scamper into his room, exclaiming something about a big train, and smiled despite himself.
His son's joy was infectious.
He rinsed his toothbrush, reached for the shirt hanging on the bathroom door - and stopped.
Closed his eyes, instead, and relished the simple music of his son's play.
Thirty seconds,
he thought.
Thirty seconds wouldn't cost him his job.
But he didn't get thirty seconds.
Alex fell quiet.
Maybe he'd gotten too absorbed in his toys.
Sometimes, when the boy was really into them, Ian could find himself wondering if Alex was even still in the house.
He would get up to check on him and find him squatting in his room, crouched over his trains and Star Wars guys like a mystic reading tea leaves, muttering earnest pronouncements.
Ian threw on his shirt and opened the bathroom door, expecting to find exactly that, but when he peered into Alex's room he found only stacks of cold boxes.
The light from the window fell across them like riming ice.
It was empty.
Of course it was.
His son had been dead for six months.
"I'm worried about you."
Ian snorted, and immediately regretted it.
It sounded derisive, and that wasn't how he felt.
To try and cover it up, he said, "There's nothing to worry about.
I'm okay.
I promise."
"I don't believe that, Ian."
She sounded exhausted, beaten.
That was the effect he had on her now.
That's why she wasn't living at home.
"Well, what can I do -"
He paused, shifted the phone to his shoulder as he reached for the turn signal.
"I mean, what can I do to convince you?"
It sounded whiny.
"I tell you and you don't believe me."
A sigh.
"I already told you what I think you need."
The sigh pissed him off.
"And I told you we don't need a shrink.
We can get through this.
I really think -"
She cut him off.
"Are you driving?"
Fuck.
"No."
"Dammit, Ian, I told you not to call me when you're driving.
This is what I'm talking about.
You don't listen to me.
Do you even get that?
You can't do this by yourself."
"I'm not trying to.
Jesus Christ, I called you, didn't I?
I don't want to do it by myself."
"Don't swear at me."
Don't fucking leave me.
He bit it back.
"Sorry.
I'm sorry, I just...
"I hate not having you at home.
I hate it."
A pause, a long one.
He wondered if he'd lost her.
"I miss you too.
But I don't like talking to you while you're driving.
Call me tonight."
"Okay.
I love -" he started, but she'd already hung up.
The elevator took forever.
He could hit the button fourteen times and the thing would still skip the ground floor and go to the basement parking garage.
Like it knew Ian was the only one waiting, and he just didn't rate.
The bell finally dinged and he got in.
Checked his watch as he felt the ground falling away.
8:05.
Late again.
Screw them.
I was listening to my son.
He pictured Justin glaring at him, looking disappointed.
Don't you get it?
You think getting on the phone five minutes late fucking matters to me?
I was listening to my
son.
The door opened.
He glued his eyes to the floor, walked down the aisle between the cubes like a prisoner.
He didn't want to see Justin watching him come in late for the second time this week.
The mingled anger and exasperation he could stomach - it was the pity that bugged him the most.
The only reason he even still had his job was the pity.
He swung around his cube wall and shouldered out of his coat.
As he flipped on his PC, Sheila said, "Traffic bad again?"
"Yeah."
She swiveled to face him.
She wasn't on a call.
She was
never
on a call when he came in.
She was wearing a short, black skirt and a low blouse - what apparently passed for business casual when you're twenty-one.
It violated the dress code, but Justin never called her out on it.
She could dress like a slut everyday, and it was no problem - but every late morning of Ian's went straight into his file.
Fine.
She was hot, and young, and she got away with things.
That was fine.
That's how it worked.
But he was thirteen years older than her, and if he was coming in late, it was none of her fucking business.
He felt her eyes boring into his back, and braced for her pestering.
It was about due to start up again.
He tapped in his password and waited for the ancient machine that passed for his computer to grind to life.
Then he glanced back at her, and arched his eyebrows.
If you've got something to say, say it.
He wasn't in the mood for any of her shit today.
A couple weeks ago she had actually implied - Jesus, it still made him shake to think of it - that at least now that Alex was dead, Ian should be able to get on the road sooner.
No need to bring the kid to daycare, after all, or wrangle him in the mornings.
It was brainless, exactly the kind of ignorant thing a twenty-one year old girl might vomit up without really considering.
The old Ian had forgiven stuff like that.
The new Ian had wanted to choke her.
You don't talk about my son,
he'd said.
Do you understand?
Not ever.
He had suppressed the
I will fucking kill you,
but just barely.
She must have still remembered it, because she finally pursed her lips and said, "That sucks."
He turned back to his computer.
"Yeah."
At lunch, Justin pulled him into one of the quiet rooms.
Ian was surprised it took that long.
Normally he pounced on him right away.
Ian tried to pre-empt him.
"I know I was late again this morning.
I'm sorry.
I just..."
He reached for an excuse instinctively, but stifled the urge.
He was as sick of making excuses as Justin probably was of hearing them.
"Ian, I'm just... I'm worried about you, man."
Ian almost snorted.
He managed a wan smile that didn't touch his eyes.
"That's the same thing Alina said this morning."
"Well, she's a smart woman," Justin answered at once.
Justin had an answer for everything.
That was why he'd been promoted twice, and was now Ian's boss, even though they'd both started in the same batch of hires nine years ago.
They'd almost been friends, once.
Gone out for beers a few times.
Then Justin had realized Ian wasn't really going anywhere, and that had stopped.
"Look, I know what you've been through," Justin pressed on.
"I can't even imagine it."
He'd said the same thing probably ten times before.
"You know we'll make allowances for you."
We.
We'll
make allowances for you.
That was how Ian knew their friendship, if they'd ever really had one, was long over.
Justin was a
we
now.
"But it's supposed to be four late starts before a verbal warning.
You've had two just this week.
You're somewhere around twenty-two for the year.
We can't protect you forever."
Ian felt a roaring heat behind his eyes.
I'm sorry I haven't gotten over my son's death fast enough for you.
I'm sorry his beaten corpse has created inconvenience for Smartlink.
Perhaps you would like me to tell my wife to fuck off and die, as well, since my desire to salvage my marriage is also diminishing my job performance.
Ian glared at him.
But what he said was, "The year's almost over.
I'll shape it up.
Just give me time.
I know I've blown it for this year, but next year will be fine.
You'll see."
He swallowed, added: "I really appreciate everything you've done for me.
You're right, it is really hard.
