Page 8 of Beautiful Beast


  “One tray of Javier’s famous eggnog. Or so I’ve been told. That it’s famous I mean.”

  Alex and his father looked at her from where they hung the ornaments. Calli poured them both an eggnog, and handed one to each. She picked up her own and walked over to the tree, fingering one of the newest ornaments.

  “Beautiful, aren’t they?” Winston asked.

  “Mm, very,” she said. “They remind me of our ornaments at home. Only ours are green and gold.”

  Alex hung the last ornament, and turned to her with the star. “Here you go, Calli. We’ve hung everything else. Now can the star go on?”

  “Yes, Mr. Smarty, it can go on now.” He handed it to her and she pushed it back at him. “You should hang it, Alex.”

  “No, I think you should,” he said.

  “I agree,” Winston said. “After all, it was your rule.”

  Calli smiled. “I’d love to, but . . .”

  “But what?” Alex asked.

  “I can’t reach. I’m not tall enough. You’re the tallest one here, Alex.”

  “I’ll help,” he said. He squatted down, patting his shoulder. “Climb on.”

  “No,” she said, backing up. “I can’t. What if I hurt you?”

  He exhaled with frustration. “Calli, I carried you all the way back to the house that day I chased you.”

  “That was you?”

  “Of course it was. Who did you think?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “And I carried you up two flights of stairs when you decided to work out in slippers. Lifting you up to put a star on the tree won’t hurt me, I assure you.”

  “You carried her up two flights of stairs?” Winston asked with surprise.

  Calli and Alex ignored Winston as she looked at him. She realized it was true. He’d be able to lift her without any problem. She weighed less than the weights he put on his barbell.

  “Okay,” she said, climbing on. She wrapped both hands around either side of his face as he stood, feeling the bumpy unevenness beneath her right hand. It startled her. She tended to forget they were there. She realized that when she looked at Alex, she rarely saw the scars.

  Once he was standing, Winston picked up the star and handed it to her. She reached up and placed the star on top of the tree, securing it firmly. Alex crouched again so she could climb off. When he stood, she grinned at him. Together they looked up at the tree. Winston moved to stand on the other side of Alex, placing an arm lightly across his son’s shoulders. Calli glanced up at Alex at the gesture, saw the slight lift at the corner of his mouth.

  “You guys did a great job,” Winston said.

  “We did,” Alex said, turning his gaze and smile on Calli. He slipped his hand into hers, low where Winston couldn’t see, and she squeezed his hand. Who would have ever imagined, four months ago, that she’d be happy to be standing in the middle of Monster House, holding hands with the monster himself?

  * * * * *

  Calli couldn’t stop staring at her father. It was Christmas Eve, and he’d come to the Stratford’s. Rather than her going home for the holiday, he’d come to stay the night here so they could spend Christmas morning with Alex and Winston. Tonight was the big party for the whole staff and their families. No matter how much she’d begged and cajoled, Calli had been unable to convince Alex to come to the party. The staff was used to him and didn’t look at him any differently than they would anyone, but their families didn’t know him.

  Calli’s father, though, looked like a different man than she’d seen last on Thanksgiving. He was clean shaven, something he hadn’t been for . . . well, her whole life. Not only that, his skin was pink instead of gray. He’d lost some weight, but in a good way. He was dressed nicely, and his eyes—his eyes were clear. Not foggy with drunkenness or a hangover. His breath was even good.

  He’d gone down to say hi to Alex, and had come back alone, also having failed to talk Alex into coming up. Still, Calli was awestruck that he’d even made the effort. Not so long ago he wouldn’t have cared about anyone except himself. Now he was walking among these strangers, talking, interacting. And Calli couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was nearly unrecognizable.

  Best of all, she never saw him with a single drink in his hand that wasn’t alcohol free.

  When it was nearly time for dinner, she snuck away and went down the stairs. She doubted she could get Alex to come up, but she wasn’t about to allow him to eat alone on Christmas Eve. She made her way to his room and knocked. No answer. She knocked again. Still no answer. Wondering if he was ignoring her purposely, she opened the door.

  She stuck her head around the corner, and saw that while his room was only dimly lit by a desk lamp, the room beyond was bright. “Alex?” she called.

  He stepped into the light, smiling. “Come in,” he said.

  She entered and walked over to the room. When she got there, he stepped out and closed the door behind him.

  “Close your eyes,” he said. “I have a surprise for you.”

  He led her into the room. “Okay, open them.”

  Calli did so, and saw that he had strung the room with Christmas lights. The table was covered with a red tablecloth, and decorated as fancily as the one upstairs, including three lit candles in the center. She could smell the food that had been prepared by Javier. She turned to Alex.

  “What if I hadn’t come?”

  He held her gaze. “I knew you’d come.”

  “Am I that predictable?”

  He smiled. “You’re that dependable.”

  “Ugh,” she groaned. “How boring.”

  “Okay,” he laughed. “You’re that kindhearted. You wouldn’t want me to eat alone.”

  “More like that selfish. I’d much rather be with you than with all those people I don’t even know.”

  “And you wanted me to come up there?”

  “Well,” Calli reasoned, “if you were up there, then I wouldn’t have had to come down here to be with you.”

  “Come up and let them stare, so they can go spread even more stories about the beast of Monster House? No thanks.”

  Calli cocked her head, thinking. “Do you plan to hide out forever?”

  “No, of course not,” he said. “Well, maybe. Probably. I don’t know.”

  “Nice to know you’re not undecided or anything, that you’ve given this lots of thought.”

  “Can we eat now?” he asked irritably. “I’m hungry.”

  She sat at the table. “Don’t make me regret coming down here to bask in your cheerful holiday spirit, Alex.”

  He sighed and sat opposite her. “Sorry.”

  “Forgiven,” she said. “Did you notice my dad?”

  Alex looked at her oddly. “It would be hard not to notice him, Calli. He came down to further your agenda in getting me to the party.”

  She ignored his words. “He looks . . . different. Good.”

  “He did look a little better than when he came at Thanksgiving, but honestly I thought maybe he was just feeling a little sick or something. Is that how he normally looks?”

  “Yeah. For as long as I can remember.”

  “So what do you think changed?”

  Calli smiled. “I think your dad kept his promise and got him into rehab.”

  “He finally did something good, huh?”

  “Alex,” Calli chided. “Give your dad a break. He’s been pretty good lately.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he agreed. “Old habit, I guess.”

  “Well, maybe it’s time to start some new habits.”

  “Oh great,” he moaned sarcastically. “Calli is in her fix-it mode again.”

  “Ha-ha,” she mocked.

  * * * * *

  Calli sat in front of Winston’s desk, wringing her hands nervously.

  “It’s a bad idea, Calli.”

  “It’s not a bad idea. It’s a great idea. He can’t keep hiding forever.”

  “Have you asked him about this?”

  “Well . . .no,” she admitted. She
’d come to ask Winston if she could have a New Year’s Eve party at the house so that Alex could meet some other kids his age. Maybe if he had some friends, he might not think he had to live like a hermit for the rest of his life. “I need your permission first. Then I’ll tell him about it.”

  “’Tell him about it,’” he repeated with a chuckle. “Not ask him.”

  “If I ask, he’ll say no. Don’t worry, I’ll talk him into it.”

  Winston laughed outright. “I believe that if anyone can do that, Calli, it’s you.”

  * * * * *

  Alex paced in the rose garden. The roses were all dead, just thorny sticks jutting out ready to capture any material that came too close. The beast had been silent since Calli had first come. He hadn’t realized it until tonight, when her words brought the beast out again.

  Even her trying to talk him into coming to the Christmas party hadn’t roused the beast. Maybe because there was no threat in it. He hadn’t felt pressured in the least to expose himself that night. Not by his father, not by Calli’s dad, not by Calli herself. It was almost as if they’d all expected him to refuse and so hadn’t pushed it.

  But now this.

  This.

  Calli asking him to come to her New Year’s Eve party. No, that wasn’t right. Not asking. Telling him she was having it for him, so he could meet her friends.

  The same ones who had come to laugh at him before.

  The beast had raged, and he’d scared her. Enough to send her running off in tears.

  He tore one of the thorny branches from its bush and hurled it with a roar. It landed with an unsatisfyingly soft tick against the stone wall. He dropped to a squat, burying his face in his hands, clasping his hair tightly in his fists. It was too much to ask. She should know that. He’d thought, after all this time, that she understood.

  He’d thought she was his friend.

  How could she ask—

  He abruptly stood. As if someone had dropped clarity over him like a cloak, he knew. She’d asked because she was his friend. She’d spent the last four months holed up with him, spending all her time with him, showing him that to her he was the same as anyone else. And then, when she’d offered him something that she thought was good, a gesture of kindness in her eyes, he’d erupted. She was his friend. But he . . . he wasn’t hers.

  He stepped out of the cove and glanced upward to where he knew her room was. Light shone from her window. He moved further back, and saw her. She sat on her window seat, knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly about them. Her head was lowered against her knees, and her body shook.

  Alex’s heart cracked, and the beast crawled into the hole, disappearing. With a determined stride, he went to her.

  * * * * *

  Calli felt horrible. She’d honestly thought Alex would welcome the chance to have some friends besides her. She’d thought that maybe, after the time they’d spent together, he would understand that if he just let others in, let them know him as she did, that they would see him as she did.

  Alex reacted violently to her request. She’d known she’d probably have to do a lot of talking to convince him, but she thought maybe she could tease him into it. That she could give all of her pre-planned, convincing arguments.

  Instead, he’d . . . well, roared was the best way she could put it. He’d thrown his weights across the room, sending them crashing into the wall. He toppled the whole weight bench and the treadmill as well. She admitted it; she’d been frightened by his rage. So she ran.

  And now she sat in her room, horrified by both herself and Alex. She should have eased him into the discussion, rather than telling him straight out. But he shouldn’t have reacted the way he did. She knew that. And yet, some small part of her also understood why he did.

  A knock on her door startled her. Expecting Meredith or Winston, she called out, “Come in.” She didn’t even bother to wipe her tears, knowing Meredith had overheard the whole thing, and that Winston had likely been informed by now. She turned her face to the window as the door opened.

  “Hey.”

  She startled at the voice, panic clenching her middle. Her eyes moved to his reflection in the window. Alex. She wondered if he were here to rage at her some more.

  He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, arms tucked behind his back. Calli tried to furtively wipe her tears away.

  “I promise I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his voice strangled with emotion.

  She turned to him at his words. “I know that,” she said, and realized that she really did know it.

  Anguish lined his face, and when he caught sight of her tear stained face he dropped his eyes in shame. Calli couldn’t stand it, this tension between them, both of them suffering. She stood and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his middle, laying her cheek against his chest, hoping his temper was calmed.

  “Calli, I—” His words tangled in his throat and she shook her head.

  “Just hold me, Alex. Please.”

  His arms came around her, bands of steel that comforted. He dropped his head to rest his chin against the top of her head. As he held her, her grief filled shudders slowly subsided, and a warmth took up residence in her chest, blooming until it encompassed her in its comforting glow. Alex’s trembling arms eventually stilled.

  She didn’t know how long they stood that way, silent and still, before he lifted one hand and smoothed it down her hair.

  “Calli, I’m so, so sorry.”

  She leaned back and looked up at him, not relinquishing her hold on him. “I’m sorry, too, Alex. More than you can know.”

  “For what?” he asked, genuinely confused.

  “For trying to push something on you that you’re not ready for. For hurting you. Alex, I hope you know that I would never do anything to hurt you. At least, not purposely.”

  Alex’s face reflected even more agony than it had. He leaned his head back and banged it against the door, once, lightly. “You have nothing to apologize for, Calli.”

  He released her, taking her hand and leading her back over to the window seat. He sat, and Calli settled next to him, tucking her arm through his.

  “Before, when I . . . when I got so angry. Calli, I—”

  “It’s okay.”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not. Ever since . . .” Seemingly unable to find the words to describe it, he waved one hand toward his face and down the right side of his body. “I feel like I have this thing, this beast, raging inside me. When I stand outside at sunset, and yell like I do, it’s my way of setting him free. I’m giving him the chance to rage so that I can control him the rest of the time.”

  Calli scrunched her brows at him. It was strange, him talking about “the beast” as if it were a living thing.

  “And usually I can. In fact, since you’ve come, I haven’t had to try to control the beast at all.” He shrugged. “I can’t remember the last time I stood outside and let him free. I didn’t realize it until tonight when he came back so violently. I scared you, I know that, and I’ll never forgive myself.”

  “Alex,” Calli said, wanting to take this away from him. Alex definitely didn’t need yet another thing to feel misguided guilt about. Wanting to make sure he understood, she took his arm and wrapped it around her, snuggling up to his side. “I wasn’t afraid for me—well, a little maybe. Mostly I was afraid for you.”

  “What?” He sounded incredulous.

  “You pretend that you aren’t ever in pain, but I can see when you are. I can see how hard you try to hide it, but I know that after you work out, you have pain. And since you’d already worked out, it can’t have been painless to throw the things you did. I worried you’d injured yourself. I worried that you would retreat into your shell of anger that you had when I first came. I worried that you’d send me away. But I never worried you would hurt me—physically anyway.”

  Alex stared at her as if trying to read the truthfulness of her words. His face reflected his
uncertainty. “But you ran away, crying.”

  “I shouldn’t have run. I should have stayed. The crying would have come either way,” she said with a smile. “I don’t want you to hate me, Alex. And that’s what I was most afraid of.”

  Alex wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her close. “That isn’t going to happen, Calli. Ever. I promise.”

  She hugged him back, that warm feeling encompassing her once again. “That’s good. I don’t think I could stand it.”

  “So,” he said, squeezing her, “A party, huh?”

  She laughed. “No, Alex. No party. I won’t bring it up again.”

  Alex blew out a breath. “We should have a party.”

  “What?” She sat up, looking at him. “What are you saying?”

  He grimaced. “I think I’m saying go ahead and have your party. And I’ll be there, even if it means I’m the main attraction.” She shook her head, opening her mouth to protest. He put a finger on her lips to stop her. “I insist. Please, Calli. Do it for me.”

  She grinned at him. “Really?”

  “Really.”