SUPPER
“Yes, he’s the best in his class – got all the awards, he did. We couldn’t be any prouder of him, darling.” Ella leaned back on the dining chair, clasping the phone in her hand so tight it looked like it might snap. The other end of the line continued the enthusiastic conversation, and it made the woman sitting at the dining table smile. Smiles came rare those days, and she was not about to let that feeling go. It was a breath of fresh air, an escape to a time that had been so dark for so long.
It had been over a year since Dillon’s passing, and things were beginning to change again. It seemed like the moment Ella had been praying for was finally coming near. There were troubles, of course, but they could be fixed.
Ella let out a hushed laugh at the conversation, absently raising a skinny hand to her lips. She was much thinner than before, dressed in high-waisted black slacks and a ruffled white blouse. “I’ll have you know he’s quite different from his father,” she joked with a wide smile, “No, really…” she amended with a wave of her hand, “they are both so similar. It is no wonder why I am so in love with my boy.”
The feed from the other end grew softer, and simultaneously Ella’s smile seemed to weaken.
“Oh…that…,” the smile did wane, but it did not fade completely. It was nice to be able to talk to someone about the troubles that persisted with her. Clark could never understand. His mind was claimed too strongly by his profession. “He’s better, darling. I daresay he need not be in your prayer circle any longer.” Ella was not happy about the lie that escaped her tightened lips.
The sound of the door made Ella crane backwards across the hallway, balancing her weight in the chair with practiced expertise. The silhouette of a rapidly growing boy made that wide smile return, and a wave from his small hand made her return to her previous conversation. “Sav, he’s home. Same time tomorrow?” With a quick response from the other end, Ella concluded, “You, too.”
Donovan emerged into the dining room as he usually did, in his football uniform, and covered knee deep in dirt. “Hi mum, guess what?” The boy did not give his mother enough time to answer. “I scored two goals today, and Coach said that I was his best mate, but he told me not to tell anyone.” His face soured at the realization. “Never you mind, I was only joking, mum.”
Ella’s hand cradled Donovan’s face in endearment. “I won’t tell, baby boy.” Donovan smiled.
“Can I go outside?”
“Darling,” responded Ella severely, “you were just outside, why don’t you go upstairs to your room?”
“I like being outside,” countered Donovan, tugging at the sides of his jersey.
“Why don’t you eat first,” she concluded, “and afterwards we can talk about your activities for the afternoon, yeah?”
“So I can go outside?” Donovan seemed to leap to his chair by the middle of the dining table.
“I’ll think about it, darling,” Ella quickly made herself busy preparing Donny’s supper, but she was not going to humor the idea (even for a second) of Donny going outside unsupervised. She couldn’t go outside with him, either, then the neighbors might want to talk. They were not as easily fooled as those only connected to her by a telephone line. Besides, Donovan was a beautiful and talented boy. She needed him to be the best, to show him off to the world – to prove that she had not been broken by her past. Letting him outside would only waste more time.
Donovan gobbled down his supper in minutes, eager to be out and running.
The sound of the door opening echoed across the house, and Clark soon emerged into the dining room. He wore a suit, and his expression was that of exhaustion. The first thing he did was kiss his wife, and then he went on to kiss his son. “The door was unlocked,” he said, taking a seat across Donovan.
“Our boy just got dropped off, love. He scored two goals today.”
Clark beamed. “Did you, son?”
Donovan nodded his head with a grin.
“We’ve got the perfect child,” Ella kissed the top of Clark’s head as she placed his supper in front of him. Clark’s expression darkened, but he continued with his meal.
Without fail, Donny reminded his mother about the chance he had of going outside. When his demands were quickly thrown aside, the boy crossed his arms. He had to do what he was told, of course, but he didn’t have to like it. Why couldn’t he go outside? What else was he supposed to do, play the piano? Donovan couldn’t do that, either, since his parents had inexplicably gotten rid of it. He was just about to turn to make his way back to his room when his father spoke.
“Love,” he said in between bites, “let the boy go outside for a little while.” He turned to Donny when he sensed that Ella might immediately disagree, “Go on, Donny. Go outside, I’ll be right out with you.”
Donny’s expression immediately changed from ecstatic to confused. There was no warning and there was no filter. Ella immediately paled, instinctively reaching for the back of her husband’s shoulders. This was the moment she had been afraid of. The last link.
“My name is Dillon,” spoke Donny in a tone that was completely serious.
The name hurt Clark. He had not heard that name in a very long time, and it came like a dagger to his heart. He had thought about it, of course, since he often questioned God in his decision to take him away – but Clark had not actually heard it. Ella didn’t speak it, and neither did he. Clark was about to retaliate when he felt the gentle pressure of his wife’s hands on his shoulders. It was a sign, a plea that he should not antagonize the boy standing across from them.
“Go on outside, son,” Clark amended. Donny smiled, turned around, and walked out. Just like that, the universe was back in order in his eyes. There was a moment of silence before Clark decided to speak again. Ella was surprised at how gentle the man sounded. “Did you know about this, Ella?”
Ella could not speak, but she nodded her head as if her husband could see her.
“How long has this been happening with Donny?”
“A couple of weeks,” she managed to answer with a soft croak. “The doctor says it happens…when…,”
She did not need to continue for Clark to understand.
“How have I not noticed this?” Clark dug his face into his hands, his elbows pushing his half eaten supper further away from him. It was not uncommon for Clark to be busy with his work, but had it really been that long since he actually talked to his son? It was almost as if Clark was beginning to see how his life really was. “My poor son…I can’t imagine what he must be going through.”
“It’ll get better,” she comforted, even if she did not necessarily believe it. “I didn’t want to concern you with this, darling. I know how stressed you’ve been lately, but I have taken Donny to talk to some people,” her voice was tempting to break, and she purposefully avoided any specific medicinal terms, “so he can…deal with this.”
It was true, but it didn’t seem like Donny was going to rid himself of this identity.
“I thought we had all dealt with this already.”
“It has only been a year, Clark.”
The hole in Clark’s heart had not healed. The expression that serenaded him with hope – that time healed all wounds – was proving to be a blatant lie.
“When is the next appointment?” Clark’s words startled Ella. “Next time, we’re all going. I'll take my leave if I need to.” He couldn’t process this information yet. He needed to distract himself, and the night would bring with it the other choices that waited for him in the future. “I’m going outside for the rest of the evening.”
Clark would avoid calling his son by name. Little did he know that he had been subconsciously doing just that for a long time.