"Craig's here!" Angie exclaimed when she saw him asleep on the couch. I sipped my coffee, hugged the cup close to my chest. At this moment I felt as afraid of his father as he probably did.
"Shhhh, don't wake him," I said, and she got the guilty look on her face. She closed her mouth and widened her eyes. God, she was so cute. My little sweetie. What would Craig be? I watched him sleep, the easy breathing, the way he curled up into himself.
I made Angie breakfast and kept glancing at Craig. He slept. Poor traumatized kid. What in the world was I going to do with him?
Angie even ate quietly. She looked over at him, too, and smiled her little smile. At least they'd get to see each other a lot more now. I resolved again not to let him go back to his father's. It might be hard, I knew how Albert could be. After all, he'd had custody of Craig because it was just too hard to fight him. But back then we'd thought things were fine. I knew better now.
He woke up, sitting up and looking around kind of puzzled. Blank. Then I saw the memories coming back to him.
"Uh, hi, Joey," he said, sitting up on the couch, the afghan pooled around him.
"Good morning," I said, fake cheer. Angie was finishing up her cereal and she went over to him.
"Craig!" she said, barreling into him. He hugged her and smiled.
"Hey, kid, good morning," he said, his hair all up in sleep corkscrews. He rubbed a hand across his face. If he was older he'd feel the stiff stubble. But he was young. 13, 14, I wasn't even sure. Boy, that was being a crappy step-father. But I'd be more now.
"Do you live here now?" Angie said, and both me and Craig looked at each other with doubt. Maybe he did.
"Uh, maybe…" he said, looking away. Maybe. That was one loaded maybe. I sipped my coffee, the warmth comforting me.
"Do you live here because your daddy hurt you?" Kids. God, were they honest. It was too much to take. Craig looked almost panicked at that question, such pain filling his eyes. I felt so bad for him. What did he have to go through?
"Uh, yeah, sort of," he said, not looking at her or me or anything really. He was staring toward the window.
"Craig, want some breakfast?" I said, changing the subject. It was easier to not deal with it so directly. He nodded and got up, stretched, and came to the table.
He looked uncomfortable in his clothes, and they were all wrinkled and slept in.
He had a change of clothes in his bag he'd packed the night before, and he went up and showered. I thought that might be a good time to give Albert a call.
"Hello?" The phone was snatched up after the first ring. I heard the hidden panic in his voice, his son missing. Anything could have happened to him. If it wasn't for Sean it wouldn't be me who was calling him but the morgue.
"Albert, it's Joey,"
Silence. Man, where did I go from here? I was always at a loss where Albert was concerned. But it wasn't about me, it was about Craig. I had to deal with this, with him. I had no choice.