Elliott Redeemed

by Scarlett Cole

  Her phone vibrated in her purse.

  I woke up alone, what am I supposed to do with this?

  What followed was . . . yup . . . she received her first dick pic of sorts. Yes, it might be strategically covered with a sheet, but his hand was most definitely gripping it, and it was most definitely hard. She pressed her phone to her chest and her hand to her mouth to hide the grin, then looked around quickly to make sure no one was looking over her shoulder. When she was certain there were no witnesses, no reflective surfaces that the image could bounce off, and no security cameras overhead in the hallway to observe her viewing material, she looked down at the image again.

  Caught off guard in the middle of in the hallway, she couldn’t decide how to respond. She could hardly tell him to move his hand and make himself come while she stood in the hallway of a children’s hospital. That had to be the kind of act that would send her to eternal damnation. Perhaps she should tell him off. He had to know how stupid it was to send naked pictures of himself over the internet to anybody. Not that she’d ever share the image, not even with Rachel. And now she sounded totally like a mom, not a lover.

  Again, she pressed the phone to her chest and placed a hand on her cheek, feeling the heat rise. Goddammit, he had her all flustered. Moments ticked by as she tried to figure out something witty and cool to say. Then she came up with something that might work.

  Think of me!

  Yet another difference between Elliott and Adrian. She and Adrian had never talked about masturbation. Heck, they’d never talked about sex. Rarely naked in front of each other, they’d never even showered together. And even from early on in their marriage, Adrian often slept in a separate room, claiming her light sleeping and his heavy snoring made them incompatible.

  “Good morning, Kendalee. Are you okay?” Fiona, one of Daniel’s nurses, walked toward her holding a large coffee. “You look flushed.”

  How on earth could she even begin to explain? “Just hurried here from home because I want to be there when Daniel wakes up. Going to grab myself one of those,” she said, dipping her chin in the direction of the venti cup from Starbucks. Today was definitely going to require gallons of it.

  “Ah,” Fiona said, nodding. “I shouldn’t really drink this before bed, but I have a couple of errands to run now that night shift is over, and it’s better that I just get them done first thing.”

  “I know the feeling.” The phone vibrated against Kendalee’s chest, making her jump. She could hardly bring herself to look Fiona in the eye. “I’ll see you later, right?”

  “You know it,” Fiona said as she walked toward the exit.

  After checking around again to make sure no one could see her, she looked at her phone. It was a full-length shot of Elliott’s body, his abs on show and his no - longer - erect - yet - still - large penis hidden under a sheet.

  It worked . . . I thought about last night. Lasted about ten seconds.

  Kendalee bit her bottom lip. What the hell was she supposed to do with him?

  Sorry I missed it. And she was.

  Next night your home, I’ll show you. Now go get ’em, cowgirl!!

  Her cheeks filled with heat, a full-on blush at his reference to their experimentation the previous night. Now she really was out of words.

  Kendalee stopped by Starbucks and grabbed the largest coffee they had and a muffin and hurried upstairs. By the time she reached Daniel’s floor, she was feeling a bit more in control of her sensibilities. Gah. “Sensibilities” was such a mom word. No, a grandmother word. When had she gotten old? When had she turned so prudish that she’d stopped asking for what she wanted sexually? Probably after the first two years of Adrian turning down any kind of idea that strayed from good old missionary twice a week. She was going to embrace everything Elliott wanted to share with her.

  Confident in her decisions and what was to come during the day, she entered Daniel’s room. There were moments when he still looked and sounded like her little boy. Like when he called her Momma instead of Mom when he was hurting the most or was half-stoned from the medication. And now, while asleep, his hand clenched into a fist lying next to his head, his hair sweaty around the back of his neck from the pillow. The rest of the time he was a fourteen-year-old intent on pushing her boundaries, and his own.

  Lovingly, she brushed a hand over his forehead and then moved to her cot near the window to unwrap her muffin and sip her coffee. As she drank, she looked around their room, never more grateful that Daniel had been admitted to SickKids.

  A little over two hours later, after she had her fill of caffeine and had helped Daniel with his morning routine, Elliott breezed into the room carrying a large box.

  “Hey, bud,” he said to Daniel before placing the box down next to the bed. He turned to her. “And hey, you.” He pulled her into his arms and placed a short but clearly affectionate kiss on her lips.

  She gripped his biceps and pushed him away. Daniel was in the room, and she didn’t want to add to his confusion, given his father was coming in today. Seeing his mother with another—

  “Urgh. Gross, dude,” Daniel teased. He stuck two fingers down his throat and pretend to gag.

  “Elliott, we shouldn’t—”

  “It’s cool, Mom.” Daniel grinned at Elliott. “Are you and my mom dating?” He said the word as if it were the craziest idea ever.

  Part of her wanted to drag Elliott out of the room. It wasn’t that she was keeping them a secret. It was that it was . . . complicated, for everybody. She hadn’t intended to share it with Daniel or Adrian just yet. Until now, every ounce of her had been hoping Elliott would deny their relationship to other people in her life just to keep the peace. But now Kendalee held her breath, suddenly anxious to hear Elliott answer Daniel’s question.

  Elliott looked toward her first and took her hand, then turned to Daniel. “Yeah, we are. Is that a problem?”

  “No,” Daniel said, confidently. “Just . . . she deserves . . . Just take care of her, okay?”

  As her heart cracked into a million little pieces at the thoughtfulness of her son, Elliott held his hand out to Daniel.

  “I promise.” The boys . . . men . . . Gah, how quickly everything was changing! The two of them shook hands.

  Kendalee coughed to clear her throat and to chase away the tears she could feel welling in her eyes.

  “Thought you guys might like something a little nicer than the standard hospital cafeteria fare,” Elliott said, picking up the box and setting it on the table. He produced an array of food. Fresh juices, fruit, stacks of pancakes and waffles, omelets, pastries. Her stomach rumbled at the smell as he opened them all.

  “Where did you get all this?” she asked, stealing a piece of juicy melon from the fruit platter.

  “I have my methods,” he said, handing her a napkin.

  It was all very . . . familial. The thought rooted her to the spot as she watched Elliott and Daniel joke around. Elliott placed one meager pancake on a plate and offered it to Daniel before laughing and stacking the plate high with all the extra calories that burn survivors needed to eat. Instead of his usual fitted T-shirt and sneakers, Elliott wore dark jeans that looked brand new and hugged his butt, boots that were clean and unscuffed, and a white shirt that showed his physique, the cuffs folded back to display the ink that ran down his forearms.

  He walked back toward her. “How is it?” he asked, grabbing a large juice.

  Kendalee jumped and grabbed a plate. “Sorry. I was miles away.”

  “You okay?” he asked quietly. “You’re not mad that Daniel knows, are you? I mean, I guess we should have talked about it first, but I didn’t think you were embarrassed about us.” He placed his hand casually on her hip.

  She shook her head. “No, I guess not,” she whispered. “I mean, perhaps we should have waited until after he was out of hospital. I don’t want to make this difficult for Daniel, or give Adrian ammunition to make the divorce difficult. But I’m not embarrassed by us. You look nice, by t
he way.”

  Elliott look down at his clothes. “Yeah, well. Figured this was an important day for Daniel, and there will be important people around who will get to make choices about what’s best for him. Listen, can we step outside for a minute?” Frown lines replaced his carefree laughter. “There’s something I need to tell you before we meet with Daniel’s social worker. Something about me that I need to—”

  “Hey, Daniel, Kendalee.” Pam, Daniel’s firecracker of a social worker, entered the room. “Thought I’d just touch base before your Dad comes to see you in”—she glanced down at her watch—“fifteen minutes.”

  Whatever Elliott had been about to say sounded important. And the look on his face told her she wasn’t going to like it. He looked as ill as she felt. But they were out of time. Adrian would be here shortly, and right now they had Pam to deal with.

  Suddenly the scent of the food made her feel ill.

  * * *

  “Daniel, your dad is here,” Pam said.

  It was the first time Elliott had seen the man. Mid-forties at a guess, decent shape, not a bad-looking guy. His discomfort was palpable. As was Daniel’s as he reached out for Elliott’s hand, and without a thought Elliott took it in his own. Adrian noticed and frowned slightly before recomposing his features into a smile.

  “Daniel. How are you, son?” There was perhaps a touch too much emphasis on the word “son,” and Elliott wondered whose benefit it was for. Kendalee closed her eyes and shook her head a fraction—either in disgust or as a warning to Adrian to rein it in. Daniel turned his head to look out of the window.

  Pam, sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, said nothing. She’d explained to them earlier that she was there to observe and not interfere unless doing so seemed to be in Daniel’s best interest.

  Elliott could feel the hurt of everyone involved. Adrian hadn’t abused the boy, after all. His twin brother had. And the more Elliott thought it through, the more he understood Adrian’s perspective. It must have been a clusterfuck of emotions to try to accept the fact that his own brother had assaulted his son. What he couldn’t get his head around was why the grown man hadn’t kept the confusion to himself, worked it through in his own head, instead of immediately accusing his own kid of lying.

  “I got you this,” he said, offering a gift bag to his son. When Daniel didn’t take it, he placed it on the table. “I guess you can open it later.” He sat across the bed from Elliott, who had promised Daniel he wouldn’t leave the plastic chair next to the bed. “You look a lot better since I last saw you. It’s great to see some of the machines gone, and your last skin graft is out of the way, right?”

  Daniel humphed in nonresponse.

  Adrian was trying, and regardless of the crap circumstances, Elliott felt obligated to try to facilitate some kind of normal for Daniel’s sake.

  “Daniel has also been making great progress on his guitar, haven’t you?” Elliott said, looking at the surly teen.

  Daniel squeezed Elliott’s hand hard, and he could feel those fingers as surely as if they gripped his heart. As he’d fallen for Kendalee, Elliott’s feeling toward Daniel had grown too, and he knew the kid would always be in his life, no matter what became of his relationship with Kendalee.

  Elliott looked up to find Adrian’s eyes locked on their joined hands.

  Adrian perched on the side of the bed and coughed roughly. “That’s great. Did you like the guitar I got you?”

  Daniel turned his head toward his father. “No. It was shit. But Lennon gave me a Taylor PS 16, which sounds like a million dollars.”

  Elliott winced as the color drained from Adrian’s face, then glanced over to Kendalee, who was sitting on the cot. She’d pulled a thin cardigan over her shoulders and had her arms folded firmly across her chest. She was looking down at her Cons.

  “Lennon is my bandmate,” Elliott said apologetically. “I’m Elliott.”

  “I know who you are, but I’d rather hoped this would be a private meeting of my family.”

  Daniel turned toward the window again.

  “I get this is all strange,” Elliott said, “but this is about Daniel, and what he needs right now. And he’s trying really hard, right, dude?” The whole situation was fucked up, but they had to figure out how to navigate it. Once they’d gotten the first meeting out of the way, the ones that followed would probably be less awkward.

  Daniel let go of his hand and crossed his arms, saying nothing.

  Kendalee got up from the cot and walked over to Daniel. “Do you want to show your dad what you practiced?”

  “I’d love to hear it,” Adrian said. “Will you play it for me?”

  “Do I have to?” Daniel replied glumly.

  “What about if I play your old guitar and you play your new one? We could do it together?” Elliott encouraged.

  Daniel met his eyes and shrugged nonchalantly, but Elliott knew that playing together was one of the things that Daniel loved most about his visits. He’d do just about anything to put a smile of the kid’s face right now. He grabbed Lennon’s old guitar and handed it to Daniel, then reached for the one Adrian had given him. He fingered the strings and tuned it, smiling as Daniel copied his actions. Daniel was right about the guitar—it was shit. But it would do.

  After a few minor adjustments, he positioned the guitar on his knee. “What do you think?” Elliott asked. “You rock the Pixies.” He fingered the chords to the song they’d first played together, and Daniel joined in without a glance toward his father.

  Kendalee placed her hand on Elliott’s shoulder, and he looked up at her and winked. Not salaciously, although the goddamn woman would always give him cause for dirty thoughts, but in a way he hoped she would find reassuring. He could feel the tension in her, her body ramrod straight.

  She wandered over to Adrian, who sat stiffly on the other side of the bed, and whispered something to him. The man stood. Elliott strained to hear the words over the sound of the two guitars.

  Kendalee looked over to Daniel as she spoke, but Elliott could only catch every other word. “ . . . just try . . . not about you.” Her hands gestured between all of them, and she ran her hand across her brow in a move he now knew was exasperation. Adrian didn’t seem to pick up on it, which said a lot about how he related to his wife.

  Adrian puffed his chest out in a ridiculous display. “ . . . our family . . . stranger . . . fucking ridiculous.”

  It went on for a few moments more, the two of them growing more agitated. Elliott debated stopping playing with Daniel to step in, but Pam stood up and beat him to it.

  “I just want my family back together.” Adrian marched toward Daniel. Elliott quickly placed his guitar on the bed and stood. “Is that so fucking hard to believe? We have to move past this. I want us to go back to the way we were.”

  Daniel stopped playing altogether and looked toward his father. The room fell quiet.

  “Well, why don’t you start with an apology?” Kendalee said, stepping back around the bed to Elliott’s side. “A proper, heartfelt apology.”

  “Fine. Daniel, I’m sorry this happened to you. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when you first told us about the abuse. But you know how things had been at school—all the reports and parent-teacher conferences. I had to be sure that what you were saying was legitimate. I’m sorry that I didn’t just believe you.”

  “Adrian,” Kendalee warned.

  “What? I said I’m sorry. Right, Daniel?”

  “Well, you kind of did and didn’t,” Daniel said. “You basically said you were sorry but that I gave you a reason to disbelieve me, so what you did was okay.”

  “That’s not it, at all. . . . Christ . . . this is ridiculous. Can you just accept the fact I’m sorry and let us move on?”

  Daniel looked down at his own hands. Elliott ruffled Daniel’s messy hair.

  “Can you take your hands off my son, please?”

  Elliott looked at Daniel. “This bothering you?” he asked.

  D
aniel shook his head. “Nope.” He popped the “p” defiantly.

  Adrian looked over to Pam. “Isn’t there some rule that only family members can be present?”

  Pam shook her head. “Our only concern is Daniel’s well being, which I imagine is yours.”

  Adrian huffed out a breath and then another, seeming to calm down. “Look, I’m sorry, Daniel. No caveats, no clauses, no buts. I’m sorry.” He looked over toward Kendalee. “All I want is for the three of us to get back to how we were.”

  Elliott felt a chill creep down his spine. When Adrian said “back to how we were,” did he mean Kendalee too? What Elliott was building with Kendalee was something so close to a home of his own that he could taste it. He couldn’t let go of that. Elliott looked at Adrian and then at Daniel, who stared straight back at him. Kendalee slid her hand into his and held on as tightly as her son had.

  “Before you left Mom?” Daniel asked. Elliott could hear the uncertainty in his tone.

  Adrian wiped a hand across his forehead. “We have a lot to figure out. How to get you well. How to prepare for you getting out of hospital.”

  “It’s not that simple.” Daniel shook his head. “You walked out on us, Dad. You fucked up.”

  “Hey,” Adrian said. “Watch the tone, Dan. I’m still your father.”

  Daniel’s face scrunched up in anger. “Really?” he spat. “Funny fucking way of showing it.”

  “Daniel,” Elliott warned, quietly. “Remember what we talked about before your dad got here?” He hoped Daniel remembered his advice about how getting angry didn’t solve anything. Deep down inside, though, Elliott remembered all the times his own temper had gotten him into trouble. Hypocritical much?

  “Yes. I’ve made mistakes,” Adrian acknowledged. “Big ones that demonstrated a lack of good judgment. But part of growing up is being big enough to admit those mistakes. I’m here to make amends. With both of you.” Adrian’s gaze wandered to Kendalee.