The Arrangement by Felice Stevens Page B

between Jackson and two boys he’d tentatively made friends with several months ago had strengthened into a fierce friendship as only school-aged children could accomplish, complete with Saturday movie play dates, video game playing, and pizza parties. Despite Jackson’s overall progress, Carter hadn’t yet agreed to the sleepover requests, wondering if it was too fast, too soon.
    “I agree. Do you think I held him back these last few years? I didn’t mean to hurt him in any way. You know that.”
    They weren’t often demonstrative with each other; perhaps Helen sensed his need to keep his distance from people. But today she put her hand on his and squeezed it tight.
    “You were doing what you thought best for Jackson’s benefit. You’ve sacrificed almost your whole life these past three years. Because of you he feels safe and secure and ready to test the waters of friendships.” She tightened her grip even more. “Did you ever imagine he’d be at this place when he came to you those years ago? I have to confess I hadn’t ever seen such a sad little boy.” She took off her glasses and wiped her eyes with a napkin.
    For Carter, it was hard to believe Jacks hadn’t always been with him, where each smile became a small victory to be won at the end of the day. Without him the kitchen table would be empty, no schoolwork, books, or pictures stacked haphazardly across the surface. There’d be no toys spilling out into the hallway or piled in the corner of the living room. From the moment their mother showed up and left Jacks, Carter had been consumed with making sure he got it right even if he had no idea what right was. But for certain he already knew about wrong. That would be his own life. No structure, no love, no family dinners or bedtime stories. With every breath, Carter made sure Jackson would have what he, Carter, lacked as a child and so much more—friends, security, and love. And if it meant that for Jackson to live a stable, healthy life Carter would have to give up thoughts of a relationship, he was fine with that. From childhood, being alone was all Carter knew.
    Jackson’s art therapy had evolved as well—from the dark and sad pictures he drew when he first came to live with Carter, forever depicting a lonely child standing in a corner, to the more frequent bright and colorful scenes of birds and animals and groups of happy, smiling children. Jacks’s doctors informed Carter these were all signs the therapy was successful.
    “I have you to thank for his breakthroughs; I never could’ve done any of this by myself. I know I don’t say it often enough, but you’ve been a godsend, Helen.”
    “All Jackson needed was someone to love him and be a steady presence in his life. We might never know what he went through as a young child, but my guess is your mother didn’t provide much stability for him, and the trust issues he has are going to take several more years to work through. But you are making headway. Slow as it may seem, this is the right way.”
    The thought of his mother being a stable presence in anyone’s life almost choked him with laughter. The government required a license to drive a car and own a dog, but to bring a child into this world and be a parent—there you were on your own. It had been a while since he thought about his childhood; he didn’t believe in dwelling on the past. Instead, he focused all his energy on shielding his little brother from all the people who might hurt him. Trust no one had been his motto for years and it had served him well.
    “I’ll always be there for him. He’s part of my life, and I’ll never give him up. I know he’s making progress, but it’s taken him so many years to get to this point, I won’t let anything get in the way of him leading the most normal life possible.”
    The first time he took Jacks to a child psychiatrist, the doctor stressed the main objective was for Jacks to comprehend Carter wouldn’t disappear on him like their