by Claire Dobbin
ver since the arrival of Alexander, the wonderful reality of loving and lazing together in bed 'til noon on the weekend had become nothing but a dim and glorious memory to Walter and Alex. For this reason, and because their son was cutting a particularly awkward back tooth, they were already up and driving into the parking lot of the mall long before the first wave of Saturday morning shoppers swept in. Offering to pick up the dry cleaning and to track down replacement washers for the leaky tap in the guest bathroom, Walter eagerly strode away, leaving Alex at the entrance to Giant Foods to work his way through the mind numbingly tedious task of grocery shopping for the week.
Though, at first, he felt like someone who'd been left holding the short straw ... and the baby, Alex soon realized the arrangement had an upside; with Walter otherwise engaged, the more junior and less responsible members of the household were free to indulge in their favourite supermarket game—'Shopping Cart Formula One.' Casting a critical eye over the available carts, he chose one with care, belted Alexander in securely and took up position on the starting grid.
The sudden acceleration from dairy into cereals through the almost deserted aisles, the screeching turn around the vegetable counter hairpin bend, the impertinent overtaking manoeuvre that moved them two spaces closer to the checkout than they had any right to be—all of these had two-and-a-half-year-old Alexander squealing with delight.
Reluctantly, with the game ended, Alex and the toddler settled down to wait their turn in line. It was only a few minutes, however, before Alexander began bouncing up and down in his seat to let his Daddy know that some other kind of 'in-cart' entertainment was required. Alex burrowed his way down through the mountain of groceries to where the little boy had abandoned his storybook in favour of burning rubber.
Pulling it out, he handed it to Alexander, who 'ooooed' happily and opened it upside down. Alex took it out of his chubby hands and, after setting it to rights and turning to the first page, he gave it back to his son. Immediately Alexander began to 'read'. Though the story was being told mostly in baby talk, the sound effects and the sheer enthusiasm of the storyteller made it easily recognisable as the tale of 'The Three Little Pigs'.
A middle-aged couple, standing in front of them in the line, turned round to watch the performance.
"What an adorable little boy," the woman said once the smart little pig had successfully vanquished the big, bad wolf. "What's his name?"
"Alexander."
"Hello, Alexander," she beamed down at the child.
Alexander smiled back and held his book out towards her. She pointed to the big, bad wolf.
"What does the wolf say?" she asked.
"Huff puff... grrrr..."
"And what does the little pig say?"
"No!... No!... NO!"
The three adults laughed at the vehemence of the words.
"How old is he?" the woman asked.
"Two and a half," Alex told her.
"A wonderful age," she said in a voice that had the ring of experience.
"Yeah," Alex agreed, "I can't believe how quickly he's growing—"
His attention was caught just then by the sight of Walter standing on the far side of the checkout scanning up and down the aisles, looking for his family.
"Walter!"
The man zeroed in on his voice and began making his way past the confusion of people and carts to get to them.
"Sorry, I was so long," he told Alex, draping the dry cleaning over the end of the cart and dropping packages from the hardware store and the drugstore into the jumble of groceries. "They managed to lose one of my suits and the manager and I had to go through every garment on the racks until we found it."
He reached down and lifted Alexander out of the cart seat.
"Well, half pint, you been a good boy for your Daddy?" he asked before lifting the little boy even higher and blowing a raspberry against his tummy.
Alexander giggled loudly and blew a damp raspberry of his own.
"Alexander has been very good," Alex said, fishing a Kleenex out of his pocket to wipe away the tooth-cutting drool and take care of the snotty nose. "He helped me steer the cart and read me a story."
"Good boy!" Walter praised him. "Will you read Dada the story later?"
Alexander nodded enthusiastically.
"Wanna go ride the space rocket?" Walter asked.
That elicited even more enthusiastic nodding and after a quick kiss for his Daddy, Alexander happily allowed himself to be carried away in his Dada's arms towards the supermarket's 'Kids' Zone'.
As he watched the two of them disappear, Alex's gaze fell on the couple who had been so attentive to Alexander. The smiles were gone and in their place were two stony-faced expressions.
It was by no means the first time something like this had happened, but that didn't make it any less annoying. He and Walter were never anything but discreet about their relationship, by inclination as much as by choice. In public, they were always sparing of outward shows of affection such as kisses and handholding. Even in private their closeness showed itself mostly in just that... the need to be close... the sharing of each other's space... Walter's feet tucked up in Alex's lap while they watched television... Alex leaning back against Walter's chest as he read a book...
But no matter how discreet they were, only a very insensitive person would have failed to pick up on the nature of the two men's relationship—writ large as it was in the language of their bodies and in the tone of every word that passed between them.
The man turned away first, leaving his wife to deliver the final dismissive, acidic look before she too turned her back on Alex. A cold rage took hold of him in that moment. Just who the fuck did these ignorant, small-minded people think they were? What gave them the right to be offended by the fact that he and Walter shared a love so deep and strong that there was room in it for a child, more precious to both of them than life itself?
His eyes narrowed and the old 'Krycek' smirk played on his lips.
Before Alexander, before Walter, way back in the 'good old days', he would have been able to translate his rage into an apt and probably disproportionate punishment for the hurt these two self-righteous assholes had made him feel.
But he wasn't the Alex of the 'good old days'.
He was the Alex who had been house-broken... neutered... turned into a coupon clipping, grocery shopping owner of a people carrier... that had a 'Caution! Baby on Board' sign stuck to its rear window.
He ground his teeth—a bad habit he'd picked up from Walter.
The couple moved into position beside the checkout and began putting their groceries on the counter. In a matter of minutes they would be done and heading out the door—their moral superiority intact.
Alex felt cheated ... powerless ... impotent... and that was when his gaze fell on the 'Rite Aid' drugstore sack nestling unobtrusively among the groceries. The 'Krycek' smirk returned as Alex nonchalantly walked to the front of the cart. Pretending to sort through the groceries, he slipped an item out of the paper bag and used one of Alexander's magic markers to mask its barcode. Then, watching the couple out of the corner of his eye, he seized a moment when their attention was elsewhere to drop the small package unnoticed into their cart. Switching to a 'doe-eyed' innocent expression, he leaned back against his own cart and waited for the fun to begin.
...detergent... bleep... cream cheese... bleep... Hagan-Daaz vanilla... bleep... condoms... no bleep... condoms... no bleep...
Alex put on his best poker face.
The checkout girl dinged her bell and the light above her station flashed. Mrs Smug Heterosexual looked up from the grocery sack she was packing to see what the problem was. She peered at the packet being held aloft in the assistant's hand for all the world to see. Her eyes grew wide and the colour drained from her face.
"Marge," the young, blasé assistant was calling out to her supervisor four or five checkouts away, "can you get me a price on a packet of Trojan Magnum -
Mrs 'no longer quite so smug' Heterosexual's face flamed bright red and a look of total confusion passed over it.
"—extra large," she finished, giving Mr. Smug Heterosexual an appraising glance.
At the sight of it, Mr. Smug Heterosexual's stunned expression unfroze a little and the ghost of a twinkle sparkled in his eye.
"Is that climax control or lubricated?" Marge was calling back.
The assistant checked the package. "Climax control—ribbed," she verified.
Alex could barely control his glee as he waited for Mrs. Smug Heterosexual to flee the building. But the woman stood her ground—her eyes reading the rest of the sales pitch on the condom package.
'Climax control—ribbed for your partner's pleasure.'
Shyly, she glanced over at her husband, her expression softening in a way that took ten years off her face. She smiled at him.
"Eight ninety-five," Marge called back.
The assistant keyed in the price and moved on to the next item... Chock Full O' Nuts... bleep... English muffins... bleep...
Alex couldn't believe what had just happened.
Well, it's official, he thought despondently, I've totally lost my touch.
"Daddy! Daddy!" Alexander's voice pierced through his gloom.
Responding instinctively to his son's happy mood, Alex smiled and reached out to take the little tyke from Walter's arms.
"The rocket ride was good, huh?" he asked.
"Again!" Alexander shouted excitedly.
"We'll see "
"Go ahead," Walter told him, beginning to stack items from the cart behind the 'next customer' sign and trying to ignore the look of fascination on the face of the man standing in line in front of him at the sight of the pack of condoms that had accidentally slipped out of the drugstore bag. "I'll take care of this."
As Alex manoeuvred his way through the narrow checkout aisle, Mrs. Suddenly Mellow Heterosexual put her hand on his arm.
"May I?" she asked, holding up a chocolate bear-shaped lollipop for his approval.
Alex nodded his consent.
"Thank you for the wonderful story, Alexander," she said, putting the candy into Alexander's hand.
"Say thank you, Alexander," Alex prompted.
"Ta ta," Alexander responded automatically, his attention divided equally between contemplation of the delight held firmly in his grasp and the distant promise of another rocket ride.
"Bye," she called out to them both as Alex threaded his way through the gathering throng of shoppers and Alexander's free hand opened and closed rhythmically in a silent farewell to the kind lady.
Walter stowed away the last of the grocery bags in the trunk and closed it up. As he turned away to return the cart, the strangely fascinated man from the checkout line was suddenly in front of him. Walter eyed him warily. The man grinned at him and held out a bottle of wine. Expensive wine, he could tell from the label.
"I'm not some kind of nut," the man assured him. "I don't make a habit of this... but this is for you and your... partner."
The tone of voice was so genuine that Walter found himself reaching out to take the bottle.
"Tell him... " the man paused as if searching for the right words, "...tell him I said I hope he enjoys it as much as I intend to enjoy my side of the trade... he'll know what I mean."
With that he turned on his heel and walked away a few car lengths to where his wife waited for him. Slipping his hand in hers, he began leading her through the maze of parked cars. Bewildered, Walter followed their progress until they climbed into a pale blue SUV and drove away.
Finding a safe place for the wine among the groceries, Walter got into the car and settled back, waiting for Alex to arrive with their son... and a satisfactory explanation ... he was looking forward to it. It had been a long time—heartfelt sigh of relief—since he'd associated Alex with mysterious 'goings on'. Whatever lay at the heart of this mystery, he was fairly certain it was harmless ... and that made it okay ... even intriguing ... after all, he admitted to himself, what is life without a little mystery?
