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BACK TO NEXUS Molly’s first birthday, Felix didn’t touch a single drop of alcohol. Not the wine that Rose brought out for the guests, not the beer nestled right next to sodas in the cooler, not even the flask which sat in his car, crouched right there in the back seat and hidden away in his jacket pocket. He stood there, smiling and happy, right at Jack’s side, and did not drink. Dealt with the slow-coming shakes, the nausea that had him turning away any offered up food, and the starburst-headache with as much silent grit as he could muster, because there was a child there who had grabbed at his finger the first time he’d ever seen her just as she had Jack’s, a child whose face would scrunch up into a smile right before planting her little fingers all over his glasses. So he didn’t drink at the party. Felix stood by Rosie and watched as Jack lit up the single candle upon the cake that he’d helped pick out the flavor of- strawberry , he had said, it’s pink and, well, good. Jack likes strawberry . Molly wasn’t going to have much, with Rose’s concern over cow’s milk and all sorts of other nutritional fuss Felix didn’t understand much. Three kids in by then and she still hemmed and hawed over every detail- but that hemming and hawing made sense, when Molly looked up at Felix with a little fistful of frosting and a bright smile on her face. Wasn’t for very long, more of a glance over him to her mother than anything else, but she was happy, and Felix did not drink. Jack did. Just a touch of wine, standing close to Felix in that way of his, arms pressed together and weight leaned in on the closest foot. He did not drink until he was stumbling, until his words slurred together, until every single thought and moment in time blurred together into one great, gray fog, a fog which could never be beaten back, because Jack was a happy man. It was his daughter’s birthday and he was a man who was not stupid enough to fall into a two year long pit, to turn to the bottle whenever any tiny problem came up. He stood there, smiling and sipping at his wine, on the sidelines. Just for the time it took him to finish off the drink- Jack was the responsible one, the one who kept those sorts of things away from his children. He didn’t struggle to unlock the front door after a night of steady drinking and unsteady walking- because Felix was stupid enough to fall into the hole, but not stupid enough to think he ought to be driving anywhere in the sorts of states he would work himself into on those nights- and he didn’t let his stress get the best of him. Instead, Jack lit birthday cake candles and unwrapped presents for his daughter when the tape started to stick to her fingers and frustrate her, calmed the just-starting sniffles and huffs with a few gentle, gentle words. Felix drifted from person to person, more fixture than guest. Linda, Rose, Jack, Sophie- the girl strayed from the rest of the backyard crowd, instead kneeling down in the grass and pressing at the dirt with already muddy fingers. She brightened up when she realized she had an audience, started telling Felix about the worms that she had found the day before. Her hands butterfly-fluttered about in the air as she spoke and the smile she gave Felix, the one right as she said It was this long, uncle Felix, really , it cut through whatever detached haze he had been able to hold onto. Rent it to bits, cast aside the thin cloth to expose nothing but his thirst and his headache and his hand-shakes. Sophie rambled on, unaware that the man next to her had rattled apart into nothing but fear at undeserved love and the desperate need for a drink in an instant, her hands patting down on the ground. Thump-thump went her little hands, pausing to grab at the grass and tug. Gentle enough to not pull any out, and then she patted once more. Thump-thump, and Felix thought about the flask in his car, in the coat he knew it was too warm for. But Sophie was still talking, so he stayed there. Kneeled with her and dug his hands into the grass, making the proper sounds of acknowledgement at the proper times in her little conversation. She was happy to carry it on for both of them- she’d moved on from worms, then talking about the caterpillar that Edd had found in mama’s rosebush and the different butterflies she thought it might turn into. She’d really like a monarch, Sophie told him with a smile, because those were orange and orange was her favorite color- but a blue morpho would be okay too, since Edd liked blue best and the cocoon was their little secret. Felix wondered if Sophie had gotten some butterfly book from the library recently. Thought, with some private and terrible humor, that she wouldn’t have to worry about him telling anyone else about the secret cocoon. Probably wouldn’t remember the conversation at all, the crouching in the grass and Sophie’s gestures as she talked. Would just be another memory gone gray, sea fog on the horizon. Eventually, Jack came trotting up to the pair. Hauled Felix up to his feet, smiled just like his oldest kid had- too bright and friendly, too warm for it to be meant for Felix- and pulled the man into a hug. Not one of the quick ones, just a pat on the back and then a pull-away, but a real proper hug. Buried his face into Felix’s shoulder, wrapped both arms around him, and leaned his weight into the shorter man. Felix, mind left to stagger under the whirlwind affection and the biting, biting hatred directed inwards, could do little but follow along. Hugged the man back, gave him a few pats on the back, and felt a smile break out onto his face despite the nausea. Jack pulled back, clapped a hand on his shoulder, and thanked him for being there. Told him it meant the world to him, seeing his family all together, that Felix was like a brother to him. Like a brother- Felix felt his face strain with the smile, the urge to pull the man back into a hug strong in his heart. They’d known each other since they were fifteen years old, gone through thick and thin together, and Jack trusted him enough to be a part of his family, to not drink at his daughter’s first birthday, and that was the most damn touching thing Felix had ever felt. ( Because Jack did know about the drinking, the crouching flask and the bottles tucked under the kitchen sink, the liquor cabinet in the Kranken home which was always either too well stocked or nothing but bare shelves. He was a smart enough man to catch onto the two year pattern, smart enough to keep himself well away from it. Felix’s issues were not Jack’s to deal with, just as they weren’t Linda’s to poke into, and it remained an open secret between the two. Felix did not drink around the kids and Jack offered up the occasional ride when the man’s steps were a touch too unsteady. He wondered when the threshold would be met, when there would be no more willful ignorance- when he tripped down his stairs and broke an arm for the first time? When he didn’t show up at home before the sun rose, long enough to have Linda ringing up anyone she could think of in some desperate search for her husband- a search poor-earned, too much effort for a man like Felix, a man better left to drink and rot and die by himself- would it be then? ) So Felix did haul the other man into another hug- if he gripped at his back a little too tight, hid his face away behind Jack’s shoulder, who would notice? Words failed him, every single thing he could say paling in comparison to that simple statement. Sophie’d been calling him uncle Felix for years by that point, Rosie always making a point to call and chat when they hadn’t seen each other in a bit, and Edd would sit by his side during those occasional shared dinners and tug at his arm with little hands, point down at the latest picture book Jack had gotten him and ask Felix how to say any word that would stump him, and Felix was still surprised by the fact that he had a place with the Waltens. Somewhere that felt more comfortable than his own home and Linda’s cooking, the perfect portraits hung up on the walls because that’s just what people did . Jack pulled Felix back to the gathering of guests, one hand on his shoulder and the other waving as he talked as he alway did, words just for the sake of sound, an outpouring of happiness as he brought the man back over to the little girl of honor for the day. Rose had Molly seated on her lap, tucked into a lawn chair and trying in vain to wipe away the smattering of cake crumbs, but still spared a moment to smile up at Felix when she saw him. A short hello, a thanks for his help with the cake- You were right about strawberry- little rascal likes it as much as Jack, I think - and Felix smiled again. Told her he was happy to help and happier that he got to spend the day with them. Settled into the chair next to the one that Jack chose, Rose on one side and Felix on the other, and wasn’t that an apt enough look? Jack was like that, always pulling people into orbit with his stories and friendliness- like folks took one look at him and could see how he was a good man just in the way he would smile and the gentleness with which he held his children’s hands as they walked side by side. A real good man, one that Felix would endure slow-rising nausea and blink away pain at the brightness of the sun for. He sat there with them, on the edge of the conversation which bubbled up yet always aware enough to hum out a response when it was appropriate, and did not think of the flask in his jacket pocket. Just took the time to appreciate what he had, to try and commit it all to memory before something inevitably happened- because something would, something always did, because Felix knew that was just the nature of life. He’d had Jack’s friendship far longer than he had ever dreamed was possible, managed to not fuck it all up for years on end, and wanted to be able to remember the happy times when he finally lost it. When he said the wrong, biting little thing or did the wrong, unintentional little thing, when he finally lost whatever steel was in his heart and turned up to a pleasant little dinner with the Waltens drunk enough that he’d spend more time dry heaving in the bathroom than he did sitting at the chair he always sat at and listening to Sophie tell him about school. Something would happen, but it would not happen that day because Felix did not drink. He sat there and smiled until it was time to leave, collected by Linda and walked back to the car as she talked on the gifts Molly had gotten, the lovely food Rosie had made for the party. Slid into the driver’s seat, felt a burning in his gut when his eyes caught on the jacket in the backseat. He’d thrown it there with as much forced casualness that he could muster when Linda had pointed out it was far to warm for it, and then his eyes picked for any sign of the flask, of his weakness. No dull shine of battered metal, no cap poking out from prison-pocket- just a jacket. So Felix turned back to start up the car, nodding along to Linda’s words, and drove them home. Didn’t think about it again for the rest of the night. |