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Arlo brings two fingers to his chin and stares off into space, as if weighing his options. At last, he shrugs his shoulders and picks up his plate. He walks over to me and plops down on my lap.
"Wow." Arlo sets his plate on the table. "Tell me you're sure about this. I'll feel like such a fool if you're only humoring me."
I twirl a strand of Arlo's hair through my fingers, then secure my right arm around his waist. "I like boys on my lap. This is the perfect spot to have our conversation, cutie pie. Now you know I'm listening."
Arlo turns his head around to look into my eyes. All at once, I swear to God I evaporate into a million pieces.
This sweet angel doesn't know how perfect he is. I drink in his plush red lips, smooth downy skin, and force myself to remember to breathe. Arlo is like every dream boy in every club I've ever been to rolled into one. He combines innocence with a tenacity that gets my blood pumping.
"You're stalling, Daddy." The faintest hint of a smile blossoms on Arlo's features. "I think you only wanted me to sit on your lap."
I flatten my palm against Arlo's tummy and hold him firm. "Tell me about your childhood, boy. You shared troubling memories with me, but I bet you have good stories, too."
Asking Arlo about his upbringing is the perfect way to break the ice. Tensions are high because of the braces incident, and talking about positive memories always eases the mind.
This time, Arlo beams. "You… want to hear about my past?" His lower lip trembles. "No one's ever asked me about my past before. I'm not used to telling those stories."
I rub my nose in Arlo's hair, inhaling deeply. "Tell me. I want to learn."
Arlo blows out a breath. "I was born in Queens. My mama didn't have many opportunities growing up, and she worked the corners every night. One of her clients knocked her up and I popped out eight months later."
A feeling I can't quite place wells up within me. I stare into Arlo's eyes and bite back a growl.
Queens? I've heard of that section of New York. It's where hoodlums engage in criminal activity. I'm horrified and disgusted that my angel grew up in such a troubled neighborhood. But I force myself to stay strong.
"I told you to tell me about good memories, boy. Not bad." I pick up my fork and knife and cut Arlo's waffle into triangles.
Arlo squirms on my lap, then rests his head against my chest. "Oh, right, Daddy. I forgot."
Arlo sighs. "I don't have many positive memories. But I have some. One summer afternoon, after Mama got her midmorning heroin fix, she took me to the park. She had a kite shaped like a caterpillar, and we flew it next to the Bathsheba fountain when the wind was strong. The kite rose as high as the Empire State Building, and Mama told me something I never forgot."
Emotion overwhelms me. "What did she say, boy?"
I think about little Arlo flying his big caterpillar kite with his mother. Instantly, I know I can't judge his poor mom for his upbringing. She probably had an awful life, too, and she was on drugs. I had an uncle hooked on opium, and we couldn't get him out of the opium dens in Hong Kong no matter how hard we tried. It's tough dealing with a family member who's an addict, because it's not their fault drugs sucked them in.
A tear slides down Arlo's cheek. "She said that one day, the wind would be strong enough to blow us out of Queens. It'd take us to a small farm, somewhere in upstate New York, somewhere remote, where we could both spend our days watching goats prance around a tiny plot of land. We could tend to our crops and never have to worry about paying rent again."
"That's sweet, boy."
"That's not what happened, though." Arlo rubs his eyes and stares at his feet. "The wind never got that strong. Whenever we had a storm warning, I'd rush outside and raise my arms to the heavens.Take me, I'd beg, begging the wind to blow me away. I wanted a tornado to take me far, far away from New York, like Dorothy in theWizard of Oz. It never occurred. I wasted many nights when I could've been working to save up for braces."
Arlo's story aggrieves me. I reach for my mug of hazelnut coffee, but my fingers shake too much, and I spill it all over the floor. The ceramic cup clatters to the ground, and smashes into shards.
I picture Arlo begging to the wind to take him away. I picture growing up with a drug-addicted mother who never knew where her next fix was coming from. I also feel Arlo's mother's desire to remove him from that dangerous environment and bring him somewhere safe.
It sucks that not everyone grew up with privilege like mine. If my mother had shot heroin and turned tricks to support her addiction, my father would've sent her to a rehabilitation facility. The state, being at the whims of millionaire politicians who profit off chaos and misfortune, doesn't fund public rehab centers. It's gross to think that only one class of people can seek adequate treatment for their issues.
I place my hand on Arlo's. "That enrages me. I'm sorry."
Arlo snuggles up against my chest and stares at the table. "I think that's why I like aliens so much." His voice is soft, innocent. "Aliens don't need storms to rescue people. They swoop down in their spaceships and take you to a much better place."
This poor boy's story is so sweet, so full of emotion. All at once, I know what I must do. Arlo never had a real protective figure in his life to look out for him. He fended off drug dealers and criminals in Queens growing up and a mother who battled addiction.
I'll be Arlo's protector. I'll beat the ever-loving shit out of anyone who hurts him and keep him in my penthouse. I'll truly bring him into my life, and let him know what it feels like to have someone watching over him.
In two weeks, my cousin Michael will marry his partner at my estate in the Hamptons. I'll bring Arlo with me. It's the perfect way to show Arlo that he matters and that he deserves more than to live in a slum.
"I tell you what, angel." I dip a triangle of the waffle in syrup and bring it to Arlo's mouth. "I'll hurry this arrangement along and ask to be your fake boyfriend right now. I'll make sure you're safe and that you don't have to worry about people hurting you over the next thirty days."
