Lamentation by Joe Clifford Read Free Book Online Page A

be shriveling, hunched over, like an old lady with a dowager hump.
    With strained, creaking effort, Mr. Lombardi sat beside me, gazing over the playground.
    He motioned to Aiden. “Getting big, eh? It’s a fun age. I remember when Michael and Adam were that big. Just starting to find their way in the world, coming into their own, developing distinct personalities. Y’know, I could tell even then that Michael would go into some kind of public service.”
    I glanced over skeptically.
    “No, it’s true! The boy loved forms. When the UpStart kids would come by the house for pizza parties and sleepovers, Michael would make everyone fill out forms. A born bureaucrat.”
    “He was writing forms when he was two?”
    Mr. Lombardi squinted into the sun, cheeks pinking in the wind. “Well, maybe he was older than that,” he replied, softly. “And Adam? He loved to build things. Erecting Lincoln Log resorts, LEGO skyscrapers. I’d catch him bossing friends around, delegating responsibility. Like a little foreman.” Mr. Lombardi laughed to himself, like he was privately recalling a terrific, precious memory that he’d always hold close to his heart, the kind I was sure to miss out on.
    He scowled at me. “There’s that look again.” He gestured toward Aiden, who squealed as the older boys spun him around. “It’s a lovely winter’sday. You’re here with your son. What could possibly be so bad? You hear all those boys laughing? Have you ever heard such a beautiful sound?”
    I pulled my cigarettes, trying to smile. “Just got some bad news, Mr. Lombardi. No big deal.”
    “Gerry,”
he said, clamping a hand on my shoulder. “Sorry about your bad news. But—” he stabbed a stout finger at Aiden, “
that
little boy there makes it all worthwhile. Don’t you forget that!”
    “I won’t, Mr. Lombardi. I mean, Gerry.”
    He sighed. “Trouble with the ex?”
    I shook the match head. “Sort of.”
    “It’s so hard on these little ones coming from broken homes. See it all the time with UpStart. No matter how much parents love their children, it isn’t the same when Mom and Dad aren’t together. How old is he again?”
    “He’ll be two in a couple months.”
    “That’s a
bit
young for UpStart. But in a few years, you might want to think about enrolling him. Getting to at-risk kids early is key. Wait too long, there’s the danger of drugs or gangs, or worse.”
    “Aiden’s not ‘at risk,’” I said.
    “You know, eighty-five percent of the boys in UpStart come from single-parent households. It’s true. Statistically, boys who grow up in a single-parent household are almost fifty times more likely to experiment with drugs before they are in high school. Did you know that? Fifty times! And we now know a large component of addiction is genetic.” He shifted his gaze to me, touchingly. “How is your brother?”
    “Good,” I said. “He just opened up a business for himself, in fact.” Which was, technically, true.
    Mr. Lombardi raised his bristly gray brows. “That’s great to hear.”
    With much effort, he pushed himself back up, smiling over the sea of cavorting boys, before fervently gripping my hand. “You think about what I said.” He pointed at Aiden. “When you’re ready, you enroll your boy in UpStart. We’ll take good care of him.”

    I don’t think I did as good a job of hiding my stress from Aiden on the way back. I knew Mr. Lombardi had only been trying to help—he was really active in UpStart—but it struck a sour chord. What if Jenny and I already were doing irreparable harm to Aiden, simply by not being together? I didn’t think a two-year-old child was in danger of ending up like Chris, but who knows how that works? Lombardi scared the hell out of me. I was a nervous wreck by the time I’d dropped off Aiden at Jenny’s.
    Brody’s truck was gone. Jenny asked if I wanted to come in for coffee and talk. I told her I had to go to work. Then I gave my boy an extra-long hug.
    I