A few days after Fiona leaves, Liam goes radio silent for over twenty-four hours. We didn’t have any set plans—he said he’d be working a lot so he could take a week or two off around Christmas—but it’s unusual not to get quick calls or texts from him throughout the day. He hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts either.
I tell myself to enjoy some time on my own and not become one of those people who always need others around. I haven’t had much time on my own lately, which would normally make me antsy. Instead, I’ve found myself enjoying my time with Liam, Rex, and the Murphys more than my solitude, which is a completely foreign feeling for me. I think I’ve spent more time with Liam in the last month than I did with Alan in the final year of our marriage.
During my time on my own, I have a therapy session with Dr. Gupta and talk to Natalie and my agent about reading the movie script by the Pascal sisters. After a video call with the sisters themselves, I agree to read it, and it arrives via special messenger within hours. If I wasn’t sure about how eager they were before, I am now.
It’s difficult to focus at first because I’m concerned about Liam’s disappearing act, but soon I get swept into the story. The role sounds intense, which is something I’ve been longing for after playing such wholesome roles for so long. Every actor wants to stretch their acting muscles and prove they’re capable of portraying a range of characters. This could be that opportunity for me.
I make a decision before I even get all the way through the script. I want this part. I’m just not sure what taking it would mean for my tentative dreams of finding a way to stay in Honeywell.
*****
My heart seizes when my phone rings and Nathan’s number flashes across the screen. It’s now been almost two days since I’ve spoken to Liam. Even Mae’s phone went to voicemail the two times I called her today.
I take a deep breath before I answer so I won’t be tempted to skip all the pleasantries and go straight to asking about Liam.
“Hey, Joss, it’s Nathan,” he says in that calm, unhurried way of his.
“Hi, Nathan, how are you doing?”
“Well, I’m okay, but Liam and Rex are down with the flu,” he says. “I went by Liam’s yesterday when he didn’t show up for work, and walked into the middle of Contamination Station. He said he couldn’t find his phone, and I just found it here at the shop. Thought I’d call to give you a heads up when I saw your missed calls and texts.”
“You’re the best, Nathan,” I tell him. “I was worried something was wrong when he didn’t answer me, even if he was busy with work.”
“I figured as much. Would it be possible for you to swing by the shop to pick up his phone and then check on him and our little dino man? I’m swamped at work and I don’t want Mae going anywhere near that house and risking getting Murph sick. Not that I want you to catch what they have—”
“It’s fine,” I say, cutting him off. “I’ve always had a really strong immune system, so hopefully it’ll hold up. I’ll grab his phone and then stop to pick up some flu-friendly groceries for them.”
“I appreciate it,” Nathan says. After a pause, he adds, “I know Liam will too.”
I arrive at the Doherty house less than an hour later, bearing Liam’s phone, along with some freshly-made soup from Sweet Escapes and a bag of soda crackers and juice from the grocery store. Nathan gave me his spare key when I picked up Liam’s phone so I could let myself in.
The house is dark and stuffy. The only sound is the TV, and I recognize the sounds of a Star Wars movie from the distinctive pew pew pew of laser blasters. After taking off my coat and boots, I walk toward the sound. It’s only now I realize I’ve never been inside Liam’s house before. We always spend time at my place, the Murphys’, or around town.
I pause in the doorway to the living room; Rex is asleep in the middle of a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor, a green dinosaur plushie tucked tightly against his pajama-clad form. Liam is reclining on the couch, his upper body propped up by several pillows. I try to ignore the unpleasant smell hanging in the air and the empty garbage cans next to each of them, which I’m assuming are for emergency sickness. Blech.
“Am I hallucinating?” Liam says in a rough voice. “I thought my fever had broken. Are you an angel of mercy?”
For a second I think he’s serious—and delirious—and then I spy the twinkle in his eyes. “That’s me: an angel of mercy with plenty of liquids to keep you from getting dehydrated.” I lift the cloth bag from the grocery store. “Oh, and I picked up your phone.”
Liam pushes himself into a sitting position with what looks like a great deal of effort. His normally tanned skin has a gray tinge to it. The washed out color is a stark contrast to the dark stubble covering his cheeks and jaw. Despite his damp hairline, he has a thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this. I’m a total baby when I’m sick. Rex is more mature than I am.” He waves a hand toward his sleeping nephew and reaches for the remote to pause the movie. “Thank you for bringing supplies and my phone. You’ll understand if I don’t hug or kiss you goodbye.”
“Goodbye?”
“Yeah. I’ll call you in a day or two when we’re no longer contagious. I hate that this is cutting into our time together, but—”
“Wait, I’m not leaving, Liam” I say. “I’m going to stay and take care of you guys. Or at the very least, keep you company.”
He grunts as he struggles to sit up more. He doesn’t get far before he collapses against the pillows with a loud sigh. “I don’t want you to catch what we have, Joss. It’s been miserable.”
“Resistance is futile. Did Darth Vader say that?” I wave a hand toward the TV, then shake my head. “No, wait, that’s from Star Trek not Star Wars. Anyway, I know it’s difficult for you to accept help since you’re usually the one doing the helping, but arguing with me is pointless, so save your energy. Now, shall I heat some soup?”
*****
My mom was the last sick person I took care of. Alan never had more than a mild cold throughout our time together; we often wondered if our strong immune systems were a result of being in such close contact with so many people—including kissing others—during the long weeks and months of filming. I try not to think about the fact he was kissing people outside his movie roles. Or how the stuffy, dark, slightly smelly state of Liam’s house reminds me of Mom’s apartment while she was sick.
Instead, I focus on tidying the kitchen and disinfecting various surfaces while the soup heats. I take juice and water to the guys and clean around them while Rex continues to doze in his nest and Liam watches me with bleary eyes. It’s too cold to open the windows, but I push back the curtains to let some light in. A giant Christmas tree stands in the corner, decked out with colorful glass baubles, decorations I assume Rex made, and fandom-related collectible ornaments ranging from superheroes to space heroes. I plug the lights in, admiring their golden glow for a moment before turning to find Liam smiling in my direction.
When Rex wakes up, he cons me with his puppy dog eyes into crawling into his pile of blankets and hand-feeding him soup. His rosy cheeks and clammy skin tell me he has a low-grade fever even before I check his temperature with the thermometer I found in the kitchen. I give him a dose of the child-safe medication Liam shows me and then snuggle him until he falls asleep again.
It takes some maneuvering to disentangle myself from Rex’s hold. I end up rolling onto the hardwood floor with a painful thump in order to avoid disturbing him too much. While on my hands and knees, I peer up at Liam, who’s watching me with a tired yet amused smile.
“I’d offer to help you, but I currently have the strength of a newborn kitten.”
I laugh under my breath as I push myself to my feet, rubbing my sore knee where it whacked the floor. “I’m good.”
“Does this mean it’s my turn for cuddles now?” he asks.
I climb onto the couch, and Liam draws me into his arms. We shift around so I’m holding most of his weight, with his head on the soft part of my shoulder. He lets out a long sigh when we get settled.
“Are you going to fall asleep on me too?” I ask.
“Probably.” He gives me a squeeze. “I’ll try to hang on for a while. Thanks for taking such good care of me and the boy today. I’m glad you didn’t let me talk you into leaving.”
“I’m glad too.” I run my hands through his soft, thick hair, feeling him sigh against me once more.
“I remembered something today that I hadn’t thought about in a long time.” The words come out slowly, as if they take more effort than usual. “Normally when I got sick as a kid, my mom depended on the Murphys or Nathan’s mom to take care of me. Nathan and I always seemed to catch the same thing at the same time, so Mom would ship me off with the reasoning that Nathan and I could keep each other company. I didn’t know it was an excuse at the time.”
“What was she doing while someone else took care of you?” I ask.
“Drinking,” he says flatly. “Always drinking. Usually with one of her boyfriends. She was always vague about who my father was; she said he was this guy named Carlos who came to town one summer from Guatemala or Chile—she couldn’t remember—and I was the product of their summer fling. She was seventeen, just like Thea was when Rex was born. It always pissed me off that she refused to tell me more than that, but as I got older I realized it was likely because she didn’t know more than that. She only told me that much because some kid at school asked why my mom’s skin was lighter than mine. It’s more than Thea ever got, though. Our mom claimed she didn’t know who Thea’s father was.”
At my small sound of sympathy, Liam shifts, holding me tighter.
“Anyway,” he says. “I got sick one time when I was around Rex’s age. The Murphys were visiting Seamus’s family in Ireland. Nathan had managed to avoid catching whatever I had, and his mom wanted it to stay that way, so Mom had to keep me at home. I was weirdly excited, thinking I’d get to spend some time with her and have her take care of me. But she wasn’t the one who took care of me; it was her boyfriend.”
He pauses and shakes his head. “I can’t even remember his name now. He was one of the nicer ones, though. I think he actually tried to get my mom to sober up. If he succeeded, it didn’t last long, and neither did he. I have a few vague flashes of spending time with him, feeling safer with him than I did with any of his predecessors. I made the mistake of starting to get attached to him and then…he was gone.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been. And confusing.”
He hums in agreement. “I made Thea promise me she’d keep the people she dates away from Rex unless she became serious with one of them. The kid doesn’t need to add abandonment issues to everything else he has to deal with.”
I’m not sure how to respond. We fall into silence, with me continuing to run my fingers through Liam’s hair. He releases a shuddering yawn and his breathing evens out a few seconds later. With his comforting weight against me, I close my own eyes and fall asleep.
*****
Rex’s temperature is almost back to normal when we all wake up. I heat the rest of the soup, and both guys manage to eat an entire bowl plus some toast. At Liam’s insistence, I microwave some of Mae’s leftover lasagna for my own dinner.
The three of us curl up on the couch and watch A Charlie Brown Christmas, followed by The Muppet Christmas Carol. When Rex falls asleep toward the end of the second movie, I offer to run Liam a hot bath so he can soak some of his aches away. When he agrees, I venture upstairs, peeking into the bedrooms before finding the bathroom and filling the tub with hot water.
I’m about to go downstairs to get Liam when he appears in the doorway. He gives me a tired smile as he strips off his sweatshirt. “One of these days, we’ll end up in the tub together,” he says.
“Maybe that’ll be your Christmas present,” I tell him and he laughs softly. I help him into the bathtub once he’s fully undressed. He sinks into the steaming water with a groan, his eyes slipping shut. I pat his shoulder and turn to go, but his fingers catch mine.
“Will you stay?” he asks. “Rex will likely sleep for awhile.”
“Of course.” There’s a small stool beside the tub, which I pull over to sit on. I imagine Liam sitting here when Rex is in the bath, or Rex using it to reach the sink. As much time as I’ve spent with the Doherty boys, it’s different being in their home, seeing how they live. This isn’t even Rex’s full-time home, but there are signs of him everywhere, from his toys scattered in every room to his drawings on the fridge. It’s far too easy to imagine being a permanent part of their lives.
“Want me to wash your hair?” I ask. At Liam’s wordless nod, I wet his hair with a cup from the side of the tub and then grab the shampoo he indicates. I take my time working the familiar-scented shampoo into his hair, massaging his scalp, and smiling at his low moans of pleasure.
After I rinse his hair, I pick up a washcloth and the bar of soap sitting in a dish on the edge of the tub. Liam’s eyes close again, his body slumping forward as I run the cloth over his back and shoulders. This isn’t sexy. It can’t be; Liam is sick and weak. But god help me, seeing him this way, with water droplets glistening on his smooth skin and his hair curling around his ears and falling over his forehead…let’s just say the quiet intimacy of this moment is going to be burned in my brain for a long time to come.
Liam shifts with me when I move the washcloth around to his front. He leans back, eyes locking on my face as I gently wash his chest. I brush my fingers over his tattoo, unable to hold back a smile. His hand moves to cover mine, pressing it to his chest. The way I’m leaning forward puts our faces just a few inches apart. His gaze dips down to my lips, but he makes no move to kiss me. When his eyes return to mine, they’re so intense I swear he’s looking into my soul. It nearly takes my breath away.
“Joss,” he whispers.
“Joss?” Rex calls a second later.
Liam takes the washcloth from me, and I stick my hands in the water to rinse the soap off. “I’ll go see what he needs,” I say. “Will you be okay?”
He nods. “I’ll stay and soak for a while longer unless Rex needs me.”
I push to my feet. Liam reaches for my hand again, clasping my fingers with his wet ones. A moment passes during which we simply stare at each other until Rex calls my name again, louder this time. I squeeze Liam’s fingers and drop them, hurrying from the room.
“I’m ready to go to bed now,” Rex says when I enter the living room. “Will you read me a story?” He flashes those puppy eyes at me again. At this point, I’d do anything the kid asked, puppy eyes or not.
We troop upstairs, hand in hand. Rex stops in the bathroom to say good night to Liam. While he’s in there, he decides he has to pee, and I hear Liam laughing as Rex shoos me out and closes the door. The next door down the hall has a dinosaur-shaped sign with Rex’s name on it, so I go inside to wait. The room is mostly neat, with a short bookcase full of books and toys, an overflowing wooden toy box that looks handmade, and a twin bed with a Star Wars comforter.
Rex goes straight to the bookcase when he enters the room. He picks a book and crawls into bed, flicking on a string of battery-operated lights that wind around his headboard. He points to the tiny Christmas tree on his bedside table and I turn on those lights too. The crooked cardboard star on top has a picture of Rex, Liam, and Thea glued in the middle. I stare at it until Rex says my name, and then I get him all tucked in before sitting on the edge of the bed. He watches me with sleepy, love-filled eyes as I read the story about a T-Rex who visits Santa at the North Pole.
When I finish reading the book, he gives a vast yawn, blinking his heavy eyelids and smacking his lips. “Good night. I love you, Mommy.” His eyes slip closed as he nestles down into his pillows, falling almost immediately to sleep.
I swallow past the massive lump in my throat. “I love you too, Rex,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to his forehead. I linger with my lips against his skin, relieved he’s not as warm as he was earlier. I stay for a few minutes more, watching him sleep.
I know calling me Mommy was a slip; he’s exhausted and out of it from fighting the fever. It’s like when kids accidentally call their teacher Mom. But it did something funny to my heart, probably because I do love Rex. He’s funny and sweet and observant, and I love talking to him and hanging out with him. He’s a tiny kindred spirit who likes so many of the same things I do and seems to get me in a way many adults don’t. As someone who didn’t have a normal childhood, I feel for him, and I’m amazed at how well adjusted he is. I also can’t help but see his uncle in him, and not just the physical resemblance or the similarity in mannerisms. He has Liam’s kind heart, his easy-going nature, his caretaker tendencies.
With one last kiss to Rex’s forehead, I rise from the bed and tuck the blankets in around him. After checking to make sure there’s still water in the glass on his bedside table, I creep from the room, closing the door part way.
The light is off in the bathroom when I walk by. I find Liam downstairs, dressed in a clean pair of pajamas. He’s sitting on the couch, elbows planted on his knees, and head in his hands. Between the darkness of the room and the way his hair falls forward, I can’t see his face until I’m next to him.
“You okay?” I ask. “Are you feeling worse? Is there anything I can get you?”
With a long, weary sigh, Liam straightens to look at me. His eyes are tired, but there’s something else in their dark depths, something I’ve never seen before. Something that makes my stomach clench.
“I think Rex and I are past the worst of it,” he says, his gaze darting away from mine. “I’m grateful for all you’ve done for us. You’re right about me finding it hard to ask for help or accept it when it’s offered.”
“I’m glad I could be here for both of you,” I tell him. “It’s been nice to feel useful.”
He nods, pushing off the couch and getting slowly to his feet. He wobbles a bit when he reaches his full height. When I offer my arm to steady him, he holds up his hands. “We’ll be fine now, Joss. You can head home.”
My stomach feels like there’s a vice around it, one that tightens with each of his words. His low, even voice holds a note of coolness that’s at odds with everything I’ve ever known about Liam. “I thought I’d spend the night. Keep an eye on both of you, make sure you have everything you need.”
“I think it would be better if you went home.”
A few hours ago, I would have thought this was lingering concern over me catching the flu. Not anymore. “Better for who?”
“For all of us. For you and me. For Rex.” He sighs again and this time he sounds utterly exhausted. I want so badly to reach out to him, offer him strength, comfort, something. I have a sinking feeling I’m the one who’s going to need comforting in a minute. “I heard him call you Mommy.”
“Is that what you’re upset about? Liam, he was half asleep. Kids call the wrong person Mommy all the time. Throw in the fact he’s sick, sleepy, and drugged up…”
Liam rakes his hands through his hair. “I get that. Hell, he’s called me Mom more than once. He gets all embarrassed and we laugh about it.” His face softens for a moment, then goes back to being stony. He shuffles past me toward the front hall, and I follow numbly.
“I know you care about us and I know being in Honeywell has shown you some of the things you’ve been missing in life,” he says. “But I also know you’ll be leaving soon, going back to your regular life and your job. You’re going to keep acting and get the roles you want and deserve, the ones you’re meant to play. I’m sure you’ll remember us fondly, but someday we’ll be nothing more than a memory to you, a small part of your overall story. And while you do all those great things, we’ll be here, carrying on as we always have, except we’ll remember you as more than a blip in our stories, and we’ll be the ones dealing with broken hea—” He cuts himself off abruptly, but we both know what he was about to say.
“Do you really think I’m so shallow that I’ll just forget everyone the minute I leave Honeywell?”
He leans against the wall near the front door, resting his head back as if it’s too heavy to hold up. “I don’t think you’re shallow, Joss. Not at all. But this isn’t real life for you. It’s temporary. You’re playing house, but real feelings are at stake here. Rex loves you, he counts on you. He’s already dealt with so much in his short life and he’s going to be crushed when you leave.”
His words feel like a slap to the face. “I love him too, Liam. And I’m not going to forget about him. It’s not like I live on the far side of the moon or something. Toronto is just a few hours away; I can come visit. I can write to him and text him and video chat with him. I can still be part of his life. I’d never just walk away from him, especially after all he’s been through. After all of us have been through.”
“I know you mean that and you have the absolute best of intentions, but things change. You’ll get busy, you’ll be working and traveling, and the phone calls will come fewer and farther between. Visits will have to be postponed. None of it will be done on purpose, but Liam will be the one who’s hurt.”
It takes me a minute to realize he’s talking about Rex and not himself. Although of course he’s also talking about himself too. This is as much about him as it is about that sweet, beautiful boy upstairs. Liam experienced the sting of rejection and abandonment from a young age, and he wants better for Rex.
“I promise that won’t happen. I won’t let it happen.”
Liam hangs his head, shaking it slowly. When he doesn’t say anything, I take a step closer, anger and hurt bubbling in my stomach where worry was a few minutes ago. “This is why I didn’t want to pursue things between us,” I say. “Do I have to remind you that you were the one who wanted this to be more? I was fine with a one-night stand, but you were the one who wanted us to be more than that for however long we had. Now you’re just…what? Saying thanks for the good times and casting me aside?”
His head snaps up, eyes blazing with fire as they meet mine. The heat is gone as quickly as it came, though, and he slumps against the wall. I stay where I am, fighting against the desire to hold him up or insist he return to the couch.
“Why don’t you get some sleep?” I suggest. “We can talk about this when you’re feeling better.”
“What if you moved here?” The question bursts out of him. He looks as surprised as I feel.
“I-I’m trying to figure out if that’s possible,” I stammer. “It’s not a decision I can make lightly or something I can just do on a whim, as much as I might like to. You know my life and my home and my job are in Toronto, and—”
“Your job, yes,” he interrupts. “But not your life or your home. You’ve said yourself you don’t have much of a life outside of work. And you’re not attached to your condo, it’s just where you live. A home is a place where you’re comfortable, it’s somewhere full of love. I’m sure you could afford to keep your condo in Toronto and have a place here too. Honeywell could be your second home. Your actual home. Where people care about you—you, Joss, the person, not Josslyn Hazelwood, the actress.”
The imploring way he’s looking at me makes me feel like a wild horse is trying to drag my heart right out of my chest. I swallow hard, finding it difficult to breathe.
“I think you should spend less time with Rex for the rest of your stay in Honeywell,” Liam says quietly when I don’t respond. I can’t respond; that would require breath, and all the air has been sucked out of my lungs. “You can still see him. I’m not a total asshole, I don’t want to hurt either of you by keeping you apart, but…maybe it’ll hurt less for him if we start weaning contact now.”
Anger is simmering away in my stomach again. I want to say ‘so you’re not a total asshole, just somewhat an asshole’ but that would be my hurt talking and I’d regret it. Instead, I cram my feet into my boots. By the time I’ve laced them up, Liam is holding my coat. I put it on and grab my purse from the floor, fishing out my car keys.
“Not long ago, you pointed out to me that I was scared,” I say, my hand on the doorknob. “And you understood because you were scared too. So I hope this is just your fear and maybe leftover fever talking, and that you’re not throwing away what we have because I can’t give you the answer you want right this second.”
I open the door, bracing against the gust of icy air that knocks into me. When I turn back, Liam is dropping his hand to his side as if he’d been reaching for me a second earlier.
“Call me when you’re ready to talk,” I say. “And call me even if you’re not ready to talk but you need help. I can bring more groceries or medicine or whatever you need, no questions asked. And…and tell Rex…” I stop, my throat closing around the words.
“I will,” Liam says quickly. “I’d never keep you two from each other, Joss, no matter what happens between us.”
I’m barely able to meet his eyes for fear I’ll lose what little composure I have left, so I simply nod. I’ve made it halfway down the porch steps when he says, “Drive safe, Joss. The plow hasn’t been by yet and the roads are probably icy.”
I continue down the stairs, raising a hand to acknowledge I heard him. I’m pretty sure we just broke up—as much as you can break up when you’re not officially together—but even now he’s concerned for my safety and well being. That, as much as anything, makes me want to let loose the tears I’m holding back. And makes me want to take a machete to the strings holding me to Honeywell.