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King of Hearts

Page 73

   


Before I could move, he was all up in my space, his face stormy. “But don’t you see, I’m not the Oliver King you used to know. For fuck’s sake, Alexis, I’m not him anymore.”
He was fuming, but so was I. I was about to throw more words back at him when suddenly Jack was there, pulling King away from me.
“What the hell?” he said, looking between the two of us.
All of a sudden, the wind went out of my sails. What on earth was I doing, arguing with King like this? It wasn’t going to help. He was sick, and I was putting my own feelings before his illness. In that moment, I felt horribly ashamed.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I should…I should probably go.”
“Yeah,” said Jack. “Maybe that’s for the best.”
Nineteen
I couldn’t go back to the circus the next day. Mostly because I had to work, but also because I was upset and angry at myself for letting things get so out of hand the night before. I needed to have more control, needed to understand that King wasn’t going to be completely logical when he was having withdrawals, and there was no sense arguing with an illogical person. It was just so hard not to get emotional. I was upset by how much he devalued himself just because he wasn’t the same man he was before. I’d never judged people by their status in life or what job they had. I judged people by who they were as people.
Anyhow, I was thankful to have work to focus on to take my mind off things. Elaine had arrived at the house bright and early to watch Oliver, and I’d stood in the doorway, bag over my shoulder, car keys clutched in my hand, as I listened to them chatter. Grandmother and grandson. The strength almost fled me in that moment. I wasn’t the only one King needed to be saved for, and it made me that much more determined to see him pull through this.
I’d concocted something of a plan, but it was going to take a bit of trickery. There were always lots of classical shows going on in London at any given time, but by some stroke of luck I’d managed to find a recital of Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 at the Royal Albert Hall. It was the same piece and the same location where he’d last seen his mother play. I thought the significance might bring him back to himself somehow. A step in the right direction. Anyway, the trickery would be needed in getting him there, because I knew if I suggested it outright he’d refuse to go, the same as he refused to see a doctor.
I’d purchased four tickets online, planning to ask Lille and Jack along, too. I could tell that Jack was closest to King; he seemed to have a calming effect on him. This meant that if my plan backfired and King freaked out, I’d have someone there who could calm him down.
Jay had told me that the circus was staying in London for the next three weeks, which gave me time to take things slow. I thought that was key, because forcing stuff to move too fast never worked. So, even though it killed me to do it, I decided to stay away from the circus for a day. I’d return on Tuesday evening after work, but this way I was giving King some space to get his head around everything. I was home from work and eating a bowl of spaghetti for dinner (Oliver’s favourite) when I got a text from Jay.
Jay: Where you at? King’s been asking.
The text made me want to hop up, throw on some shoes, and go to him immediately, but I had no sitter for Oliver, and it was too late to call Karla or Elaine. Therefore, it would have to wait until tomorrow.
Alexis: I can’t make it tonight, but I’ll visit tomorrow evening after work. About 6 or 7.
My attention was drawn away from my phone and across the table, as Oliver made a loud slurping noise sucking the spaghetti into his mouth.
“Today I asked Granny Elaine about the flowers,” he said randomly. I would have called my son the master of random statements, but I knew that was just all kids. They said whatever they were thinking.
“The flowers?” I asked.
“The ones in her garden. She told me they’re called tulips,” he said, sounding out the new word.
“Oh, you went for a walk to Granny Elaine’s house today?”
Oliver nodded, red spaghetti sauce all over his mouth. Elaine often took him out and about, especially when she was having a good day. If she was having a bad day, and feeling down about King, she usually stayed indoors. I took it as a sign that today had been a good day. I also took it as a sign that maybe I needed to tell her I’d found her son sometime soon.
“Yep. They’re yellow with green….”
“Stalks?” I provided, smiling fondly.
“Yellow with green stalks. I asked her if the colours were the same to her as they were to me.”
What he said made me smile. I swear my boy was already a little philosopher, thinking about perception in his own particular way. God, and now I was thinking about how I needed to tell King he had a son. Why did all the explaining have to fall on my shoulders, huh? The emotion hit me quite suddenly, but I reminded myself that although it might be a stressful experience at first, I was excited for King to find out about Oliver, to get to know him. I was certain he’d fascinate him just as much as he fascinated me.
“And what did Granny Elaine say?”
“She said the colours were the same for most people, but some people have colour blindness. That means they don’t see the colours the same.” He paused, his brow crinkling in concentration as he looked at me. “I have blue eyes and Granny has blue eyes. Is that why we see the same? You have brown eyes, Mummy. Does that mean you see different?”