There are several more booths set up; some of them roasting sugared nuts, others selling little odds and ends, and another one that’s doing face painting.
The employees standing behind the counter are dressed in green elf clothes, with red and white stripped stockings, giant brown elf shoes that curl at the tips. They look perfect, right down to the enormous elf ears poking out the sides of their head.
A little boy, about Javi’s age, is sitting on a stool with his face tilted up as a boy elf draws a picture of superman’s crest on his cheek.
The night is turning more crisp, especially since the sun had set half an hour ago. Shivering, I start to head toward the skate rental area needing the exercise to help warm up, when Javier cuts in front of me, standing by the counter where the boy’s sitting.
“Javi,” I whisper, “do you want your face painted?”
His jaw clenches as he stares at the book of drawings.
The elf glances up at me, “I’ll be right with you guys, pick whatever you want. I can draw them all. Four bucks each.”
Turning back to the little blond boy, he grabs his jaw and tilts his face back up, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he shades the crest in black paint.
His hands are all over the boy’s face and that won’t work.
“Javi, he has to touch your face. Do you understand, Papi? He’ll have to touch you.”
Grunting, he shifts his back to me and points at the book, at the spider-man emblem. The elf is glancing at Javi from the corner of his eye with a frown.
Probably thinks I’m nuts telling him all those things.
“Javi, honey.” I step closer, my front almost pressed to his tiny back. “Let’s go skate, okay?”
Shaking his head once roughly, Javi grunts harder and I lick my lips, sensing the rage getting ready to come. His knuckles whiten as he pounds his finger into the book.
Wringing my hands, I turn to Ryan, hoping he’ll know what to do.
The elf is done and the little boy gone, he’s looking at us with a worried gleam.
Feeling the need to make him understand, I smile. “He’s autistic.”
Still not looking like he gets it, he cocks his head.
“Can, I paint his face?” I ask hopefully.
I’m terrible at drawing, Javi will wind up with red, blue, and black streaks, but at least he’ll think he’d gotten something cool.
“Nah,” the boy shifts feet, “can’t.”
A press of families start gathering behind us, as if sensing the pending disturbance.
Ready to yank Javi up and bolt back to the car before the rage really takes hold, I step up. But Ryan stops me with a gentle hold on my wrist.
“Can you paint his face without touching any part of him?” he asks the boy.
“That really bother him that much?” Elf boy looks as if he doesn’t buy it.
Hope springs eternal and I stroke Ryan’s back. This could work.
“Yes, it really bothers him that much.” Waiting on bated breath, I dart a quick glance at Javi who’s tense, as if he knows and understands what’s happening.
The boy scratches the back of his head. “Won’t look good, but yeah, I can try.”
The relief is an icy balm.
Patting the stool, he steps back. “Hop on up then.”
Facial features not changing in the slightest, Javier sits. But I know my baby, and I know the threat has passed. His shoulders are no longer straining, his hands relax and open by his side.
Hugging Ryan fiercely, I shake my head. “Thank you.”
“Hey,” he wraps an arm around my shoulder, “it’s no big deal. Besides, what kid doesn’t want to wear spider-man on his face all night?”
Staring into his face, I can’t stop smiling; my jaw is going to ache tonight.
“So umm…” he rubs the back of his neck, “I guess you’re pretty pleased with me, right?”
“Mmhhmm.” I nod.
“Does that mean I get a treat?” His eyes glint.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Come home with me tonight. You and Javi.” He brushes his knuckles over my cheeks. “I’ve got an air mattress I can blow up for him. Boys like camping, it’ll be fun.”
Leaning into his ear, I whisper, “And will we have some privacy?”
Blowing air heavy through his mouth, he chuckles. “I’m pretty sure I can find a sock for our door.”
Laughing, I hug him hard and watch as the poor elf tries to paint without touching. He’s right, it’s pretty awful.
The spider in the center looks deformed, the left side of it hanging much longer than the right-- like it’d suffered a stroke. And the blue and red paint is all mixed together, turning everything a messy ugly purple and black.
But Javi’s thrilled, and when elf boy’s done, he hops off with his bird chest puffed out. He keeps holding his cheek up all night, as if presenting it out for my inspection.
After that we rent our skates, we’ve been at it for close to thirty minutes, before hunger drive’s us off the ice in search of hotdogs.
I laugh as Javi shoves the last bite of his in his mouth. Coated in ketchup and paint, he looks a mess.
Wetting a napkin I clean him up the best I can.
But he doesn’t like it, keep’s grunting and pulling his head back, glaring at the sidewalk and I try to hurry, knowing if I push it too far he’ll throw a fit for sure.
“Sit still, Papi,” I plead, “Or we won’t go back skating.”
Glowering, he settles down.
“What does that mean anyway?” Ryan tosses a dirty napkin into the wastebasket beside us.
“What?” I ask, taking my eyes off Javi for a split second. Just long enough for my hand to slip and dab off some of the paint instead of the ketchup. Thankfully, Javi won’t notice. It’s only a little and right at the bottom hand corner.
“Papi. What’s it mean?”
Smirking, I lean back in my seat. “You still learning Spanish?” I finger quoted.
“Trying.” He takes a sip of his tea.
I cross my legs as Javi gets up and turns to stare at the skating rink. “It means little daddy.”
“You serious?” His eyes sparkle. “That’s weird.”
“No more weird than calling someone sugar pie, or honey bunch… I mean really, pet names are pretty ridiculous if you think about them.”
Leaning forward on his elbows, he scrunches his nose. “Anyone ever told you how adorable you look when you get all feisty?”
“Oh, shut up.” I stick my tongue out.
“Mmm, Lily,” he moans, low and for my ears only, “so many places I want that tongue right now.”
Heat burns my belly and I can’t help the breathy sigh that escapes me. I really, really wish we were closer to home.
Laughing, very aware of what his dirty words do to my equilibrium, he leans back. “More skating?”
I groan, massaging my stiff ankles. I haven’t ice-skated in years. At this point, I’m done, plus I want to put my tongue to good use. I want to take that man, throw him on the bed and do things to him that’d make a porn star blush.
But I knew Javi has only just begun.
“I guess.”
Getting up, he tweaks my nose. “Promise I’ll catch you if you fall.”
“Me? Fall? Oh whatever, I’m not the one that almost landed on my ass the second my blades touched ice. That would be you.”
“I was just getting my bearings.”
Laughing, we walk back. The boys get their skates on much quicker than I do. Probably because I’m seriously dragging my feet, I won’t be surprised if I wake up during the night with a massive charley horse.
Tying the last knot, I stand and walk to the gate, ready to get back on the ice when I notice Javi.
He’s gliding, actually it’s more of a coordinated stutter step, arms hanging out for balance beside him.
The rink isn’t overly crowded, which is probably the only reason why he wants to skate. Ryan is beside him, but keeping a respectful distance and that’s when Javi’s arms start to windmill.
There’s nothing for him to hang onto, he’s almost in the center of the ice. Opening the door, I enter, ready to rush to him and figure out a way to help without holding him too long but what I see next stops me dead in my tracks.
It all happens so fast.
One instant Javi’s getting ready to eat it; the next Ryan is reaching out with his hand.
I cringe the moment their hands clasp. Skin to skin contact and hold my breath waiting for his screams. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stand up, I blink rapidly, ready for the entire park to turn and stare and mutter and wonder, ready for the wave of embarrassment I try not to, but always feel, whenever it happens.
One second.
Two.
Three seconds go by.
Javi doesn’t scream.
And he doesn’t let go.
Frowning, only just seeming to realize what’d happened, Ryan whips his head up. Our eyes crash and mine burn.
Javier’s holding his hand, not looking at him, but hanging on and smiling as he skates with Ryan around and around and around.
Time moves again. In fast forward and I’m drowning. Fat tears are gathering, making my vision blur and I don’t know how to stop it.
I run and fall, landing hard on my butt. A white hot flare rips up my spine. But I don’t stop. Not caring what I look like to anybody in that moment, I have to get away.
Crawling on my knees, I get to the door and am finally able to hoist myself up.
“Lili!” Ryan calls my name.
I shake my head and rip the skates off my feet the second I can, then I run in only my socks to the women’s bathroom, locking myself into a stall a second before the waterworks burst through and hard grinding sobs spill from my throat.
He’d grabbed Ryan.
He was holding Ryan’s hand.
Hanging on even still.
And it hurt so bad, I wanted to scream.
Because it should have been me.
I was his mother.
All I’ve ever wanted was to have him touch me. Have him initiate any form of contact, just once.
Sometimes it seemed like everyone got to. Mama’s fingers almost always grazed his forehead. Ade could pat his shoulder without him flinching, but me… nothing-- only when he was too passed out to care.
And it hurt that I blamed Ryan for this.
I was a bad person and I hated myself right now.
Because it wasn’t Ryan’s fault.
But I couldn’t stop, I hung onto my stomach and it was like everything I’d ever suppressed, every hurt, ache, fear, terror… it all came out.
As I cried though, a funny thing happened. Behind the hurt, came clarity, and finally understanding.
Javier loves him.
And deep down I believe Ryan does too.
When I finally exit the stall, it was like my soul had been cleansed.
I feel ten times lighter, the burden of carrying all the guilt, all the hate, all the worries of finances, and health… I release it.
Walking to the sink, I splash water on my face, frowning at the giant red nose and puffy eyes staring back at me.
My eyes are bloodshot and greener than I’ve ever seen them.
When I walk back outside, Ryan’s there, still hanging onto Javi’s hand and I close my eyes, snapping a mental picture. I will remember this night forever.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“I love you,” I whisper.