Chapter Text
November, 1995
Any parent knows that when the phone rings in the dead of night, it spells trouble.
Alexander hadn't expected wee-hour phone calls to start before his eldest had hit double digits, however, so when the phone rang at 4:13 a.m. that chilly November morning, waking him, Eliza, and the three-year-old who had crawled in with them a few hours previously, he assumed it was something to do with the firm. He couldn't have been more wrong.
"Alex? It's Angelica." Her voice was strained, as if in distress.
"Ange? What's wrong?" he said, darting a glance at Eliza. She was busy soothing Juan's frightened crying--she was constantly worried about scares that might make him hyperventilate and trigger an asthma attack--but now she turned her attention back toward her husband.
"Why's Angelica calling at this hour?" she asked, which unfortunately overlapped with Angelica's next statement in Alex's other ear.
"I'm sorry, Eliza was just asking me--Ange, it's 4 a.m. in New York."
"I know, I'm sorry but--you said Lizzie's awake, too? Put her on, will you?"
Wordlessly, he held out the receiver and traded it for the toddler. Juan sat on his lap and snuggled against his shoulder, babbling in his three-year-old patois. As Alexander shushed and cuddled Juan, he listened to his wife's end of the conversation.
"Angie? …. What?" Her face blanched. "Oh, my God--no. Are they sure?" She covered her mouth with her hand but couldn't do more than look at Alex before Angelica had answered. "Oh. Oh, no. Did Bà say--Okay." Alex held out his hand for her to take, still in the dark but responding instinctively to Eliza's distress. "I don't--we'll figure something out. Where's Phil, is he there with Mom?" She shook her head apologetically, leaned into his supportive touch. "Well, are he and Sarah able to--Oh. Okay…. Angie, okay! Of course. Of course, I will…. No, I don't have a shift until Monday…. All right, okay. Let me start putting a bag together. Talk to Alexander."
She handed the phone back and rose. Juan squirmed out of Alex's grasp to hop off the bed and follow her. True to her comment into the phone, she dug in the closet for her carry-on suitcase.
"Not now, honey, Mama's got things to do. Go back to Daddy."
"Ange, it's me," Alexander said into the phone. "What's happened?"
"Oh, Alex," she sounded like she had been crying--which was not like his Ange. "There was a plane crash. Brad and Beth were on board."
"Fu--uuh--udge," he amended, acutely aware that his three-year-old had climbed back onto the bed for more cuddles. At least that explained Eliza's packing. He recognized her nurse's training in the precision of her movements, the controlled haste with which she opened the carry-on bag, rifled through the dresser drawers, and began filling the suitcase with essentials.
"Yeah," Angelica was saying. "They were coming over for--it doesn't matter. Something went wrong and they're--they're gone. It was on our news this morning; the airline had called Dad by the time John could confirm that it was Brad's flight."
"Jesus. Are you coming back to the States?"
"I have to... John and I are going to collect the--remains," she said, voice hitching. "But then we'll bring them back for burial. Whatever there is," she added darkly. "Dad wants them interred in Albany."
"Okay. Betsey's packing here--I guess I can follow in a couple days, with the boys. We'll figure it out."
"That's--Alex, I told Lizzie. Someone has to get Philip from school."
"Oh," Alexander said, realization striking. Brad's son, Philip, was about Jaime's age, but despite that, he attended a boarding school in New England. "Mierde." He'd been no stranger to losing guardians himself, but it would be different for a kid like Philip, who had barely had to deal with losing a tooth, let alone both his parents.
"Yeah. I asked Lizzie to do it. She'll know what to say to him."
"How're your parents?"
"Dad's--Dad, but Mom's pretty wrecked. I don't know. It's all happened fast. I'm sorry, I know it's the middle of the night and this is so not the kind of call anyone--"
"It's okay, Ange, es familia, hey? Listen. You can get through this. I know you can. Just a few days and you'll be home with us. Maybe you ought to plan to stay a while."
"I would but--Whitehall is in London, not New York."
"Yeah, it's an issue. I told John he'd be tearing you in two to take that job."
"'That job' is a staff position in the British government, Alex Hamilton."
"But does he take you dancing on Saturday nights?" he teased lightly. It worked; she chuckled and some of the tension drained from her voice when she next spoke.
"I'll call Brenda so she can reassign my next few days of classes. And I have to call Peggy," she said, still sadly, but more calm than before.
"We'll do it. Is she still in LA?"
"No, she was in Vegas the last I heard. I'll track her down, you don't have to."
"Hey. Let me get this. You've got enough going on over there. I'll put Maria on it."
"Okay." She paused. "Alex, I--"
"Me too, Ange. We'll figure it all out when we're together in Albany. Okay?"
"Good. Yeah." She fell silent.
"Do you want your sister again?"
Eliza bustled back to the phone. "Angie, I'll take the next train and rent a car from Concord. Yes, I'll call the school. I'm sure they'll need--I know." She caught Alexander's eyes. "Well, yes, I think he's rather a catch, myself. But don't let him know we think that."
"I'm sitting right here," Alexander pointed out.
"I wasn't talking about you," Eliza lied brazenly and went back to her phone conversation. "I'll call Bà-Bà in a few hours, or maybe from the train station. And we'll call you when I get to Albany. Okay. Love you. Bye."
She hung up and sat heavily on the mattress next to Alexander. Juan asked immediately, "Mama going 'way?"
Eliza smiled at him to reassure him. "I'd take you along, bǎobǎo, but I think I'd better not." She looked at Alexander. "Then again, is it fair to leave Daddy with all three of you?"
"We'll be all right," Alexander asserted. "Alejandro's old enough to be helping out, anyway."
"Please don't burn the house down," said Eliza. "Now, I figure I can catch a train up to Concord--those commuters run every hour or so--and rent a car from there."
"I heard you tell Angelica as much. What about the hospital? You know you won't be home by Monday."
"No. I'll call Denise before we leave, have her find someone for my shifts." She kept her tone clinical, flat, but Alexander could tell it was a defense against the grief just below the surface.
"Do you want Maria to arrange the car for you?" he offered.
"No, no, I'll just get something when I get there."
"Let me have Maria do a little price-shopping for you, at least. Call me when you get to the station and I'll have numbers."
"Fine," said Eliza, and Alexander let out a breath. The last thing he wanted was to quarrel about the price of a rental car. "I don't--care about the details right now, can we talk about logistics?"
"Sure," he answered right away, recognizing her need to focus on the overall plan.
"Good," she said, expelling a small sigh. "Okay, I'll pick up Philip and we'll take the train to Albany. Can you drive up with the boys on Friday?"
"Yes. What day is it now?"
She gave him her best "librarian" stare. "Tuesday."
"Okay." He poked Juan in the ribs. "What do you say, Juanito? Three days just us boys? Can we handle it?"
"No," Juan said confidently. "Want Mama to stay."
Eliza put her arms around him. "Johnny, Mama has to go collect your cousin Philip and...he's going to be very sad. I can't take you with me."
"Why not?"
"Because I want to have some time alone with Philip."
"No."
"Yeah," Alexander said in his trial voice. "That's not up for negotiation, Juanito. You stay with me and let Màmí go and do this. We'll see her Friday." He looked at the clock. "Let me get dressed while you finish packing; then I'll drive you to the station." He hugged Juan to soften the blow. "You can come along that far, okay?"
~
"You look like hell warmed over," Maria told him as he walked in.
"Well, that's good, because I sure feel like it," he answered.
"Coffee?" she suggested.
As soon as she said it, he realized that he had missed that step in the disruption of the morning. "And that is why I love you, but I'll go down for the good stuff in a minute. First, I need you--"
"Oh, how I've waited for those words--"
"--To do a little searching for the best rental car rate in Concord, NH," he finished with a flirtatious but quelling look. "Um… better make it a three-day, pickup and drop off at the train station."
"For you? Why are you going to New England?"
He shook his head. "Eliza. She's taking the train up there now."
"I think maybe you'd better start from the top, before you get that coffee, sugarlips," Maria said, and followed him into his office.
He explained the whole situation. "So, that's why I'm dragging my ass. By the time Eliza got packed, she figured we might as well get all three boys up, dressed, ready for school, so I could take them after we dropped her at the station. Hugs, tears, etc., etc.--and then I didn't have my briefcase, so I had to go back for it once the boys were squared away. I was all the way home so why drive back here--and then the subway was insane--"
"I get it." Maria's mouth hardened to a tight line. "I'll call the travel agency and see what they can find."
"Okay. Once that's done, I'll have another mission for you. Now are there any burning issues actually related to work, or may I go get my coffee?"
"Only if you get me one, too."
"Attagirl. I'll be back."
When he returned ten minutes later with two drinks (black for him; two cream, one sugar for Maria), she said, "It's gonna have to be Enterprise. They can pick her up but I don't know what train she's on to book a reservation."
"Hang on, I've got it somewhere." He went into his office, set down his coffee, and dug in his coat pocket for the right piece of paper. Eliza had called his mobile to give him the itinerary. "Um, can you read what I wrote?" he asked, holding it out to Maria.
She stepped inside the door to read it. "Acela Express 825. ETA 2:27 PM?"
Alexander examined his own scribble again. "Yes, I agree."
"So I'll have a car there at 2:30." She sipped her coffee and made a face.
"What? Two cream, one sugar, right?"
"The coffee's fine."
"Good. You know how many attorneys in this firm know how their assistants take their coffee?"
"Three."
"One, that's--what? Who are the other two?"
She fixed him with a look that said "Do you really want to know?" and at his answering, challenging shrug, she sighed. "Mr. Burr, but then again that almost doesn't count. Jane takes hers black so it's not all that difficult. And there's Tom--I mean, Mr. Jefferson, of course, but--" she cut herself off coquettishly.
"But what?"
"Well, it hardly counts that he knows how Sally takes her coffee, either. Considering."
"Considering...what? That he's an ass?"
"That he's tapping that ass, more like," said Maria.
"No fucking way. Okay. Maybe--yeah, no, I can totally see him doing that."
"Well, he's divorced, it's his business."
"And yours to know everything that goes on in this office. God, I made the right call when I hired you."
She frowned at him. "I thought you hated gossip."
"Only when it's about people I like. Jefferson's a cabròn. Banging his secretary, how cliché." He grinned at her, but she was still frowning. "Okay. What did I do?"
"Nothing. I'll make the reservation for Mrs. Hamilton's car."
Something about the way she said "Mrs. Hamilton" made Alexander raise an eyebrow, but before he could press the issue, Maria had gone back to her desk. His eye fell on the brief he'd been working on the day before, and he opened the folder. Soon, he was lost in the work.
An hour later, Maria brought him his second coffee and he remembered to ask her about finding Peggy Schuyler. "Try Lexus Nexus first for California and Nevada," he suggested. "She's in and out of trouble."
"Black sheep, huh?" Maria asked shrewdly.
"I wouldn't go that far. The Schuylers don't really have black sheep. More like...a dark grey one." He looked up and caught Maria's tight-lipped frown a fraction of a second before she brought her face back to neutral. "There it is again. What's up?"
"Nothing," she said, shrugging.
"Bullshit. Since when have you lied to me? Shut the door, sit down, and tell me what's going on."
When she had done so, she asked: "What you said before, about it being my business to know everyone else's…do you imagine that's how your colleagues see their assistants, too?"
Alexander leaned forward, chin in his hand. "Depends. Madison wouldn't think of it; Burr definitely wants Jane to have all the dirt. Jefferson--there's no level to which he won't sink. He's a snake. But some of the others--no, I don't think they expect their assistants to go round collecting inside information."
"But you do expect me to do it."
"No, I really don't," he said quite seriously. "It's just a fringe benefit."
"Would it even be something we talk about if you didn't know my history?"
He shrugged, leaning back. "I told you when you found me down in the Village: I don't care about your history. I care about your actions. Where's all this coming from? Chica, you haven't had any recent problems with the other girls, have you?"
"Women, and no. Not at the office. But--look, I know Mrs. Hamilton doesn't like me and wishes you'd get a real administrative assistant. Not your old pro bono case who needed a handout."
"Okay, first of all, you are a real administrative assistant. You do the work, you're good at the job, so fuck anyone who says otherwise. And secondly...Eliza isn't the type of person who judges."
She snorted.
"All right, she judges now and then. But not about this. She knows everything that happened and we're all cool."
"She knows about you cruising for boys on the West Side?"
"....Yeah." It had not been his finest hour, but he'd confessed to Eliza shortly afterward. It was 1992, and it had been ten years since Jack Laurens had contracted AIDS and died. For ten years, Alexander had tried to live a heterosexual life. It wasn't that he was unhappy with Eliza or the boys--he was, in fact, ecstatic about his family--but as the decennial of Jack's death neared, he had felt...empty. So he'd gone out one night, looking for men. Instead, he (and the man who'd been with him) came across Maria getting beaten up by her pimp/husband, and he'd interceded.
The resulting tangle had taken over a year to resolve, but eventually he'd helped her get away from her no-good husband and back on her feet. Including a generous loan to get through secretarial school, and then hiring her as his assistant.
As for him and Eliza, it had ushered in a new era for them as well. She knew he was bisexual--they'd met caring for John in John's final months, after all--and to her credit, she had never explicitly tried to keep him from forming relationships with men. But that had also been the early part of his career and after John died, he'd had a vested interest in appearing perfectly hetero, and keeping their relationship and family looking nuclear. Besides, marriage was marriage. Eliza had appropriately assumed that meant monogamy and everything that came with it. In point of fact, Alex had assumed it, too, and had been too ashamed at needing outside stimulation to say anything until circumstances forced him to confess. After what they came to refer to as the Reynolds incident, however, they'd found other ways to make things work while not requiring Alexander to deny part of himself.
"So she doesn't hold all that against me?"
"No, why would she? Look, I'm not saying it was a walk on the beach, but it's good now."
Maria held his eyes for a moment, then nodded.
"Well, that's settled, then. Is that the Weber briefing?"
"Yes. Oh, and I'll change your four o'clock."
"Why, what's wrong with my four o'clock?"
"Ham. Your wife has left town, which means someone has to pick up your sons this afternoon."
"Oh. Right…."
~
Eliza called a little after three. "Thanks for the car. I had no idea how back-country this area is."
"Are you lost in the wilderness?" he teased.
"No. The car has a GPS. But the station is basically a platform next to the road!"
"Do you need me to get you a hotel?"
"I'll get a room closer to Philip's school," she said, and it twisted his heart to hear how tired she sounded. "I wanted to call before I got underway, though."
"Glad you did. Be careful, okay. New England could already have ice. Or polar bears."
"There aren't any polar bears in New Hampshire." He could hear her eyes rolling.
"Regular bears?"
She giggled. "I'll be fine. Did you hear anything more about the crash?"
"Yeah. I looked it up on some of the news sites. Do you want me to tell you?"
"Yes. No!" She sighed. "Yes, better do it. Philip might have questions."
He relayed the few facts that had been so far reported. "Are you okay?"
"I'm keeping it together," she said after a moment.
"When do you think you'll get there?"
She gave an estimate that would allow her to call the boys at bedtime. "I'm torn about whether to pick him up tonight, and make him sleep in a hotel, or wait until morning."
"I think he'd want to see you as soon as possible. Has anyone at the school told him?"
"I just got off the phone with the matron, so...I don't know."
Alexander puffed out his cheeks. "Tough call. He's what--seven?"
"Eight."
Alexander didn't need to remind himself of his circumstances and the losses he'd tallied when he was only a little older than that. "Right. Still don't know why they thought an eight-year-old should go to boarding school, but--well, I think you should talk to the matron in person when you get there."
"That was my thought, too. I'll keep you posted. You remember you have to pick up the boys?"
"Yep, I've got it under control." She snorted. "Okay, Maria cleared my schedule and reminded me, but that counts." Another snort. "Óralé, it totally counts!"
Her snort erupted in a full-on laugh. "All right, it counts. Well, I should hit the road. And you should get going, too, if you're going to get the boys. Just please don't burn--"
"--Burn the house down," he finished with her. "Okay, okay. Spoilsport. Talk to you in a few hours. Te amo."
"You'd better. Love you, too."
~
He checked his watch, found his wife was, unsurprisingly, correct, tidied up a bit, and bid Maria goodnight on his way out. Half an hour later, he arrived at Juan's day care. They'd been perplexed that morning, since it wasn't one of Juan's regular days, but he'd sweet-talked them into taking him without prior notice.
"Always a pleasure to see you, Mr. Hamilton!" the youngest of the ladies said. Whenever he saw her, she never failed to stay just on the safe side of flirtatious. Alexander smiled back and helped Juan into his jacket, and ignored their indulgent smiles. "Oh, uh--I'm gonna need to bring him back for the rest of the week…."
"No problem," she said. "I'll write it in. See you boys tomorrow!" He returned her goodbye somewhat less enthusiastically and nudged Juan out to the street.
Jay and Alex, Jr. were both at the same elementary school, complete with an after-school program. It was just a few blocks from their brownstone, but a short subway ride from the day care. Getting Juan on the subway, however, could be a bit of a challenge at times. He ranged between inexplicably nervous to go underground and entirely too frightened of the people on the platform or the train. Today Juan was more concerned with the fact that Eliza was not the one who'd picked him up.
"Mama's home?" he asked as they walked the two blocks to the station entrance.
"No, chico, Màmí won't be home. Remember, we took her to the train this morning? We'll drive up to Grandma and Grandpa's on Friday and see her there."
"Why?"
"Why will we see her there? Because that's where she'll be."
"No, why not home?"
Alexander navigated them through the crowds and down the steps. "Because she had to go pick up your cousin, Philip, from school, and bring him to Grandma and Grandpa's."
"Why?" came the predictable question.
"What did you do at day care today?" he asked instead, putting off the moment of explanation until all three boys were together. There had been no good opportunity to tell them when they could discuss what Eliza's errand meant; it was something he would need to do, he knew, but it would be easier to address the three of them at once. The question distracted the boy while Alexander got them through the gates and onto the car, where Juan grew shy of all the people. He buried his face in his father's suit lapels. Like a seasoned New Yorker, he said nothing until they arrived at his brothers' school.
Balancing Jaime's gym bag, Juan's backpack, and his briefcase in one hand, with Juan on the other hip, and Alejandro and Jaime trailing behind him like ducklings, Alexander had two thoughts: first was that he needed to get back to the gym; second, that if he had to lug the boys around town on a regular basis, he wouldn't need to get back to the gym. It was starting to rain, too.
"¡Vamos, mijos!" he said to hustle them the last few blocks. "Alejandro, don't you have an umbrella in your backpack?"
"Um…." His eldest son stopped dead, peeling his backpack off so he could rummage through it. "Oh, yeah!" he said. The jubilation was halfway between triumph and surprise. Closing up his pack again, he popped the automatic button and nearly took out his brother before raising the protective cloth overhead. He slung his pack over one shoulder while Jaime shrieked at the near miss.
"Hey, you're okay, nene. Alex, be more careful, please. And keep moving. The object is to get home before we're all drenched, hey?"
"Can we race?" Alex asked.
"Hard to run with an umbrella. No. Just walk quickly, buddy."
Home was in sight when the heavens finally opened in earnest. Alexander cursed inwardly. The boys began whining in earnest, too. "Okay. Jaime, take your bag. Alejandro, carry Juan's bag--here." He handed off the two bags and shifted Juan to his other side, so he could dig in his pocket for his keys. "Alex, if you give me the umbrella and take my keys, you two can run to the door."
"COOL!" Alejandro said immediately. He held out the umbrella. Alexander tossed the keychain in an easy arc toward him and took the umbrella. His son snatched the keys from the air and shouted, "One, two, three, GO!" as he passed, barely giving Jaime time to realize there was a race on.
"Better catch up!" Alexander said to his middle boy. Jaime took off like a shot. Alexander felt Juan slipping. "Gotta get down, bud. Daddy can't hold you and his briefcase."
"Wet," came the toddler's predictable reply.
"I know, but the house is right there. Or…. Will you hold my briefcase for me?"
"Okay." Juan reached down and took the handle with both hands. Alexander wished, not for the first time, that he'd used the messenger bag instead, but there'd been no time to switch that morning. But with only two things to concentrate on, he could pick up his own pace. Juan bounced against his hip as he trotted the remaining half a block, the briefcase swaying in his son's grip.
They made it to the steps and inside. Alejandro and Jaime were shivering in the hallway, the door gaping open. Alexander put Juan down with relief, shut the door behind him, and took in the state of his drowned rats.
"Good thing we don't have a dog," Alexander said. "That open door. We'd be running right back out in the rain for him. Okay, mijos, upstairs, out of those clothes. Bathtime."
"We just had a bath last night!" Alex, Jr., attempted. The chattering of his teeth undercut his argument.
"Trust me, you'll want to warm up. Go. Take your brothers." He followed only a few steps behind to get the water started. Then it was off to the bedroom to trade his own wet things for a pair of sweatpants and a fresh t-shirt.
The storm outside continued to pummel the roof while he got all three boys somewhat successfully bathed and into pyjamas. By then, they were clamoring with hunger. Alexander's own stomach had rumbled once or twice, too.
"Hm. How about pizza?" he asked, knowing that the suggestion would meet universal acclaim. He instructed the older boys to attend to any homework they had while he went to the kitchen to dig up a flyer from the neighborhood pizzeria and place the order. Half an hour later, he was putting a generous tip in the hand of the delivery kid, who dashed back to his car using the insulated bag as protection from the rain.
"Does this mean we can eat in the family room?" Jaime asked as Alexander shut the door and then also closed the foyer door against the weather.
"Sure, why not. Don't tell Màmí, though. Bad enough I authorized pizza. Is your homework done?"
"Didn't have any. And Alex did his at aftercare."
"Then take this--it's hot! don't drop it--and I'll get paper plates and napkins."
They watched a rerun of M*A*S*H while they ate, then Alexander clicked the remote before the start of Jeopardy.
"It's time to talk about the weekend," he said over the boys' protests.
"And why Mom went away in such a hurry?" Alejandro asked, with the tone of one seeking confirmation. He was hurtling toward young adulthood and it showed in the way he held himself, the way he spoke, ready to pinch-hit as a second parent to his brothers before he even knew what challenges they were facing.
"Yes." Alexander sat forward, pulling Juan into his lap a little. "So, overnight last night, your Uncle Brad and Aunt Beth were in a plane crash." He took care to say it gently, but without too much emotion. There was no point in sugar-coating it. Even at seven and nine, Jaime and Alex seemed to understand what he was saying. Only Juan needed more clarification.
"Are they okay?" the three-year-old asked. Alexander squeezed him for reassurance--his son's and his own.
"No, chico, they're not. They died. Everyone on board died."
"What's 'died'?" Juan pressed.
"Well, it means...in this case, it means they got hurt, so badly that their bodies couldn't keep going." What followed was ten more minutes to introduce the toddler to the concept of life and death--aided and hindered in equal measure by the older boys' input.
"So they're in heaven?" Juan wanted to know once he understood.
Alexander took a deep breath. "Sure," he allowed. He wished he could summon the conviction that he knew Eliza would display if Juan had asked her the same question. To forestall the inevitable fifty "Whys" that he suspected would follow, he plowed on. "Màmí's gone to get your Cousin Philip from his school, and tell him the bad news, and bring him to Albany. We're going to join everyone this weekend and figure out who's going to take care of Philip from now on."
"Is Phil coming here?" Jaime asked immediately.
"We don't know yet. It's too soon to say what's going to happen."
"But if he does, he could sleep in our room," Jaime offered. He looked to his older brother for agreement.
"Or maybe I could get my own room?" Alex, Jr. was quick to suggest instead.
"Whoa. Before anyone talks about getting his own room, or adding someone to a room, we're going to find out what the family wants to do. Your Uncle probably left a will or something and we'll need to read it to find out what provision he left for your cousin. And let's not forget that your Mama lost a brother, and Philip lost his parents, okay? So maybe a little less excited about the whole deal?"
"Sorry, Pops," the two chorused.
Juan, meanwhile, had cuddled close into Alexander's side. "You and Màmí aren't going to die, are you?" he asked.
"Ay, mijo, you don't have to worry about that. Not for a very long time, I hope. Anyway, that's why we're on our own for a bit. Any...other questions?"
"Yeah, I have one," Alex said. "Can we watch Wings?"
"Sure." Alexander didn't know whether to feel relieved or annoyed that they were so easily satisfied.
~
As if on cue, the phone rang just as the episode ended and previews for next week began. "That's probably Màmí," Alexander pronounced, as Alejandro raced to the master bedroom where the upstairs phone lived. Alexander turned off the TV and patted Juan to get him to move, and the two of them and Jaime followed.
"It's Mom," Alex confirmed when they entered. "No, we had pizza," he said into the phone. "Yeah, I did my homework. Jay didn't have any. Okay." He held out the receiver to Jaime. "Your turn."
"Go brush your teeth," Alexander said to his namesake.
"Mom isn't happy you got pizza."
"Yeah, gracias, traidor." Alex just grinned at him. "Go on, get."
Juan, meanwhile, had climbed onto the mattress and was reaching for the phone. "I wanna talk to Mama!"
"Not done, jeez!" Jaime whined. Then, guiltily into the phone: "Yes, Màmí." He surrendered the receiver with a dark look at his father.
Alexander shrugged at him. "You're the one who got shirty, mijo." He repeated his instruction to brush teeth. With Jay off to the bathroom, Alexander sat next to Juan on the bed.
Juan babbled away, telling the story of their trek home through the rainstorm. "And then we had pizza and watched TV."
Alexander could just hear Eliza's response through the phone, and made a grab before Juan could answer her. "Hi, it's me and no, not at the same time, Bets. Of course not!"
"Liar," she laughed. "I'm gone for one day and you're eating junk food in front of the TV."
"Oh, come on, pizza once in a blue moon isn't going to hurt them. We're fine, cara me. Everything's under control."
"Under control, eh? Juan should have been in bed an hour ago. You're going to have your hands full tomorrow when he's overtired." She chuckled again and sighed, growing more serious. "What's your plan for the rest of the week?"
Juan interrupted. "Daddy, can I sleep in here tonight?"
"Oh, mm...yes, but shh, now, go and brush your teeth. Alex will help you."
"Alexander. Your plan."
Alexander knew better than to ignore Eliza when her tone had that much steel in it. He quickly ran through his itinerary for the rest of the week, now considerably lighter thanks to Maria. "Is Philip with you now?" he asked when she indicated approval of his schedule.
"He's in the bath," Eliza said. "We'll head back to the car rental tomorrow. They said they could call us a taxi to get to the station."
"How's he doing?"
"About what you'd expect. Withdrawn. I think he's still in shock right now. It hasn't hit him yet. Did you tell the boys?"
"Yes. Little mercenaries, they jumped forward about twenty steps and they've already got the house all rearranged. Alex gets his own room; Jay and Philip share; I don't know where we put Juanito but apparently we can pull another room out of the air."
She laughed once, but it was hollow. "It may come to that. I've been thinking. Mom and Dad can't raise an eight-year-old themselves, not with Dad's health and all. And Philip and Sarah--they're not going to be much help, I just know it. Peggy--well. Even if we can get a message to her, she's not cut out for taking care of a little boy." Her voice cracked just a touch, indicating how hard it was for her to criticize her sister. "And Angelica would be wonderful, but she won't want to uproot him all the way to England. Besides, she and John want their own, you know? So...maybe we really are the best choice."
"And if we are, cara, we'll figure it out, but why am I the only person here who keeps telling everyone to slow down? Did Brad leave a will?"
"I don't know."
"Neither do I, but if he did, then you can bet it includes some provision for Philip. Anyway, even if we did take custody, I don't want to throw him in city schools a month before the term's over, with holidays coming up. It might be better to let him finish out the school year where he is."
"No, you're right. I'm just thinking out loud."
"Yo se. Betsey, it's gonna be okay. Te amo."
"You, too. Listen.... Are you all right with all this?"
"With the boys? Yeah, fine. I'm not hopeless, you know."
"No, I mean--Philip losing his parents. It's not--bringing up any unpleasant memories? And if the boys have questions, you'll…."
"I'm not going to scar them for life with my sob story, Bets. It's okay." He meant to say it lightly, humourously, but the words came out much harsher than he'd expected.
She seemed about to say something else, but at that moment he was saved. The boys all trooped back in from the bathroom, so Alexander handed the phone off for Eliza to bid them their goodnights, one by one. Lightning flashed outside. Jaime looked out the window and nervously counted past five before they heard the answering rumble of thunder.
"Papí," Alejandro held out the phone.
He accepted the receiver again. "Okay," he said to Alejandro and the others, "Boys, bed. Juan, go get your book and we'll read in here. I'm back," Alexander said to Eliza when he was alone. "Look, I should…."
"Yeah, I should check on Philip, too."
"Call me tomorrow when you have your train information."
"All right. Sarah's going to pick us up, so I have to call her, too."
They bade each other goodnight. Alexander rested his forehead on the back of his hand, receiver dangling, for a moment before hanging it up. The crash hadn't brought up bad memories, really, but a certain amount of introspection was inevitable. He pushed past it, as he always did, in order to do what had to be done.
What had to be done right now was tuck in the older boys and read to Juan before lights out. Before he could rise, however, they all came tumbling in toward him. Outside, there was a brilliant flash of lightning.
"Juan says we can sleep in here," said Jaime, bounding up on the mattress. "Can we, really?"
"You all want to sleep in here--why?" Alexander asked in confusion.
In answer, a particularly spectacular boom of thunder followed the lightning strike. The boys jumped onto the bed.
"That's why," Jaime said.
"Oye, mijos, this is just a little rainstorm. You know, your pop survived a hurricane once; this is nothing…." Nonetheless, he got them settled and tucked, and read to them all from Alejandro's chapter book, bestowed kisses and promises to come back and check on them, and then clicked off the light. In five minutes, they had sprawled so much that Alexander wasn't sure exactly how he was going to sleep in the same bed, himself, but that was a problem for later. He put in his usual three or four hours of work at home, came back up to the family room, and clicked on the news for a little while before tackling it.