The Perfect Son

Eudora patted the back of his hand; Felix tried not to flinch.

“Her companion had his Walkman on and was singing along, oblivious. She was grabbing at the overhead strap and horribly pale. Once I realized she was about to faint, I made sure I was the first person she saw when she woke up. In fact, I caught her.”

Eudora smiled her slow, easy smile. “And the man with the Walkman?”

“Her boss, a famous jewelry designer. They met in college, and when his career took off, he asked Ella to move to London to be his production manager. It was a step sideways for her, since Ella’s dream was always to have a small jewelry shop of her own and do mainly custom work. It was the first time she walked away from her calling. The second time was for Harry.”

“Were they romantically involved?”

“No, he’s gay. He had a crush on my brother for a while.” Felix’s sigh lingered like acid reflux. “Everyone did—gay or straight.”

A male cardinal dive-bombed the glass door and flapped against it frantically for several seconds before flying off. The bird had done the same thing several times this week. Either cardinals had no ability to learn from their mistakes, or this one had brain damage. Why keep doing the same thing, day after day, with no hope of a different outcome?

“Our timing was off when we met,” Felix said. “Her mother had just died, and Ella’s life was falling apart. She needed someone to tell her to move back home to be near her father.”

“And you were that someone. How very honorable of you, son.”

“Thank you. I can’t say it was easy, but it was the right decision for her. Her boss was making it extremely difficult. Unpleasant, really. Threatening to blacklist her in the industry so she wouldn’t find a job Stateside.”

“And you encouraged her to see him for the asshole he was.”

“More or less.” Felix grinned. “We kept in touch over the next five years, dated other people, but never quite moved on. Her thirtieth birthday present to herself was to come back to London to see if I was the man who got away.”

That encounter, almost as brief as their first, had been long enough only for Ella to conceive. Would Felix have moved halfway round the world for a woman he barely knew if not for the seed that would become Harry? Yes, he would. Huge decisions had always been danger zones, but not that one. Joining Ella after he learned of the pregnancy had been more than the right course of action. It had been the only course of action, because once he knew how they fit together, how they moved together, he couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. If dopamine was the cure for Tourette’s, sex with Ella had been the only drug to ever mute the endless static in his brain.

“How romantic.” Eudora flattened her hand across her chest. “Now you know I won’t let up until I see a picture of y’all as a young couple.”

“I’ll look tonight.” Maybe Harry could help him, and then he could judge for himself that his parents’ marriage had not been rooted in mere propriety.

Harry banged on the glass doors and mouthed something.

“Open the door, Harry.”

Harry held up his hands.

Felix rolled his eyes. “Open. The. Door.”

“Dad, Dad! The dryer just buzzed. Want us to fold the laundry?”

“N—”

“What a treasure you are, Harry,” Eudora said.

Harry beamed.

“Okay. Yes, fine. Thank you.” What was the harm? Harry needed to learn responsibility, and he could refold everything when Harry was in the shower.

Birds began chattering in Duke Forest, heralding the end of the day. “Time to start supper.” Felix stood up.

“Oh, my stars, I nearly forgot! I left shrimp and grits in the fridge. You’re not one of those picky eaters, are you?”

Mother had accused him repeatedly of being a picky eater. He wasn’t. She was big on starch and stodge; he wanted quality and nutrition. Although he wasn’t sure grits fell into any category that could be labeled nutritious.

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