Kristen Ashley - Breathe

“Whatever,” she muttered, pressing closer.

This meant she was done with the conversation.

It also meant she was giving in.

Then again, she always did when it was important.

He pulled her even closer knowing one thing.

He wasn’t falling anymore for Faye Goodknight.

He wasn’t halfway there.

He was gone.

I locked up the library and moved to the steps, on my way home.

It was Wednesday. It had been a week and a day since they released Malachi from the hospital.

As seemed to be the case since Chace came into my life, this time had not been uneventful. Not even a little bit. It had been eventful and busy.

But surprisingly, Malachi settled in with Mom and Dad relatively well. He had some issues with Dad and the first night I left, he got agitated, very much so, so I didn’t want to leave. But Chace and Dad took me aside and told me something I knew logically but didn’t like all that much. This being that I was doing him no favors hovering when he had to get used to his surroundings. So I left with Chace. And I didn’t like that either.

Chace took me home, poured me wine and he stretched out on my couch and watched some game. As he did this, his lips were tipped up because I was pacing and fretting, something he thought was funny, something I did not. Then I called my parents an hour after we walked through my door only to have Dad tell me Mom was reading Malachi The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe and all was fine.

It took two days for Malachi to settle with Dad.

It would be the weekend before he let Chace in.

This was on Saturday when Mom and Dad were at Liza and Boyd’s for Jarot’s official ninth birthday party. It was decided it was too soon to introduce Malachi to Jarot and Robbie, much less a bunch of other kids, so Mom and Dad, Chace and I were taking turns looking after Malachi and going to Jarot’s party.

I had another volunteer look after the library for me in the afternoon and Chace and I were taking the first shift. They were leaving the party early and we were going later.

By this time, the bruising around Malachi’s face was gone, he was getting around on his leg very well and the bandages were off his hands because Dad decreed, “They need air.” That didn’t mean Mom didn’t gunk them up with Neosporin three times a day. They were healing really well and within a couple of days he had no problems holding the Kindle Dad bought him even with one arm in a sling.

He loved it. Mom downloaded a shed load of books on it and he was always in a chair or on the couch, eyes glued to it but his fingers hitting buttons, testing it out, seeing what it could do. He messed it up a couple of times so Mom and I had to sort it but he learned from what he did and by the weekend, he knew more of how it worked than I did my Nook.

Chace had noticed his fascination with this so on Saturday, while I was at work in the morning, he’d gone and bought Malachi a portable Nintendo and a few games.

Although Malachi no longer got visibly anxious around Chace, he still held back from him. So when we got to Mom and Dad’s, I gave him the game but told him Chace bought it. Then, not knowing much about it, I fumbled my way around showing him how to use it.

Obviously, and fortunately, I fumbled too much. This meant Malachi got impatient and gently pulled it out of my hands and carefully wandered to Chace, handing it to him.

I tried not to cry as, without a word or making a big deal of it, Chace crouched beside him and explained how to load the game cartridge and use the Nintendo while Malachi stood close, head bent, eyes riveted to it. Then Chace handed it to him and, get this! He leaned into Chace as his thumbs tentatively moved over the game.

It… was… awesome!

As I deep breathed, Chace let him do this, watching him test out the game then he slowly straightened, guided Malachi to a chair and sat him in it, Malachi’s head bent to the game the entire time.

It only came up when Chace started moving away. Malachi made a noise in his throat, slammed his elbow in the arm of the chair so Chace went back, asking quietly, “What is it, buddy?”

He bumped the arm of the chair with his elbow twice, his eyes on Chace and they didn’t leave until Chace sat his booty on the arm of the chair and stayed close while Malachi’s head bent back to the game. Sometimes, he’d lift it up and point at things so Chace would show him what to do. But he didn’t let Chace leave him until he had it down and was absorbed in it. And more, with great patience, since sitting there watching a kid play a video game probably badly couldn’t have been barrels of fun, Chace didn’t leave him and acted like he could sit there for forever.

This was awesome too, a heart melting awesome that I didn’t know what to do with so I just felt it and let’s just say it felt great.

Half an hour later, Malachi came into where Chace and I were sitting at the kitchen table. He still had the Nintendo but also the other game and he handed both to Chace.

Then he again leaned into Chace as Chace ejected the game, set up the new one and showed him as he told him what to do.

And he stayed leaned into Chace, his thumbs on the game, his head bent to it as Chace and I resumed talking, me with a huge, fraking grin on my face, Chace often shaking his head at me in that way he did when he thought I was doing something cute, his lips tipped up.

Eventually I had to come down from my high when Mom and Dad got home and we had to go to Liza and Boyd’s.

But a half an hour later, my high came back with a whomp when Chace and I walked through Liza and Boyd’s door and Jarot and Robbie raced to him. Both grabbed a hand, hauled him in but it was Jarot who shouted to his gaggle of friends, “This is my new Uncle Chace and he’s a cop!”

Thus commenced Chace showing his badge around. This bled into Chace somehow getting conned into giving kids piggyback rides. And this somehow devolved into Chace being wrestled to the floor with a slew of nine year olds, near nine year olds and Robbie’s three six year old friends’ flailing arms and legs being mostly all I could see.

“Okay,” Liza whispered in my ear, she’d sidled up to me and at the glance I spared her after tearing my eyes away from Chace under a pile of kids she went on, “I get him. He’s hot. He’s the kinda hot a woman would forgive a lot of asshole, he’s that kinda hot. But he’s that kinda hot without the asshole part which is a plain miracle. So you giving it up to him, baby sister, I get it.” My eyes went back to her and she was grinning at me like a lunatic as she finished with emphasis, “Totally.”

I looked back toward Chace who had managed to untangle himself from the pile of kids and was standing. But he had Robbie dangling down his back with his arms around Chace’s neck, giggling his behind off and Jarot under his arm, shouting through his own giggles, “I’m gonna be a cop like Uncle Chace and arrest a bunch of bad people!”

My belly melted, my heart flipped and I whispered, “I hope we have all boys.”

“Oh no,” Liza whispered back. “Man like that, you’ve got to give him a princess.”

This thought made my belly melt more, my heart flipped then flopped and my eyes went to my sister.

“A princess,” I breathed.

“Another one,” she said gently then lifted her fingers to twitch my hair. “He’s already got one.”

God, seriously, I fraking loved my big sister.

I grinned.

She grinned back.

I would learn that night that Chace spending an hour allowing himself to be the grown man personal toy to my nephews didn’t affect his stamina.

It was a great lesson to learn.

I walked toward Main Street, my mind moving back to Malachi who had yet to speak his first word.

The child psychologist who saw him in the hospital said that this was not unusual and we shouldn’t be overly concerned. She said it was clear he had endured multiple traumas and had intense trust issues. Providing him stability and nurture, making him feel safe, gently forcing him to express himself in a way he was comfortable with and communicating to him verbally with great regularity would eventually break down whatever issues he had and he would again speak. She warned that he should not yet be asked about what led him to his hiding hole or who or what he was hiding from. He needed to be shown he was safe and he could trust those around him. When he was, and with her in attendance, questions could be asked.

But this also meant she wished to see him regularly and Mom took him to the hospital for a twice weekly schedule of appointments. There had been no breakthroughs and Chace kept reminding me that whatever had been going down with him had been happening for a while so we couldn’t expect him to snap into normal little boy behavior in a few days or even a few weeks. Chace told me I needed to give it time and be patient.

I didn’t like this either but I had no choice. It couldn’t be said that Malachi wasn’t adjusting. He was now close to me, Mom, Dad and Chace. He didn’t talk but he did smile, touch and find his ways to say things he needed to say.

So I was giving it time and trying patience.

The psychologist also noted that his socialization skills were not advanced and she pointed out the obvious that now was not a good time to enroll Malachi in school. Therefore, Mom looked up home schooling on the internet and went to the school to talk to some teachers. She also sat with Malachi and discovered what we knew. His reading was off the charts and he knew his numbers, had some basic math skills, in other words, he knew how to add small numbers. But other than that, not much.