The Devil's Lair by A.M. Madden Page A

was important for Shane to attend. She wanted him to witness how many were touched by his mom. He needed to know she was part of our family. It was short, but meaningful…just like her time with us.
    Jen gave a lovely eulogy. Leila arranged a slide show of all the pictures Paula included in the box. Some forced a small smile from Shane as he watched image after image on the large screen. My wife sang Be Not Afraid . Her beautiful voice carried through the chapel, moving everyone to tears. Shane sat beside me, staring at the ground. My heart squeezed painfully every time I looked down at him. I rationed this is normal, this mourning, this is necessary. I offered my hand and was surprised when he fit his tiny hand in mine. Leila is normally the only person he shows any signs of affection to.
    Afterwards, Shane was very quiet. We found him sitting on his bed, hugging a pillow. We spent that evening letting the kids call all the shots from what to have for dinner to what movie we should all watch together. We camped out in the living room, with tents and sleeping bags included. His mood improved, but he was not the same Shane. I don’t know what I expect. I guess if we are able to give him even a few fleeting moments of happiness to forget, with time they’ll swell and multiply.
    The twins are obsessed with Shane. Prior to Paula’s passing, Shane had assumed the role of big brother to them. Since he lost his mother, he’s not as patient as he once was. We noticed when Leila is holding Madden or Siarra, or when she is caring for them in any way, he becomes distant and quiet. I’ve been handling the twins so Leila can focus on Shane. When he stands at the foot of our bed each night looking lost and sad, Leila scoops him up and holds him for hours. He mentions Paula often, sometimes forgetting she’s gone. He’s clingy around Leila, especially when around others.
    One night after the kids were all asleep, she voiced her concerns. He clearly is substituting Paula with my wife. She wants to console him in any way she can, and most of the time he wants to hide away in a corner without interaction. We worry that will cause more problems and further enable him. He’s such a personable boy. By allowing him to retreat within himself, his social skills will suffer, so will his self esteem.
    We called my sister the next day, asking for her advice on how to best handle him. She said we shouldn’t be concerned with his behavior. She suggested we get back to normal as soon as possible. Resuming a normal routine is key to his healing process. Besides keeping him busy, it will help him better acclimate to his role in our family.
    Normal isn’t possible while traveling around the world on a rock tour. He’s going to have many phases of adjustment. He’s young and he’ll adapt. The best we can do is to ensure we are there for him each time he is faced with more change.
    For example, after London we had quick stops in Ireland and Sweden. The short stays and resuming our rehearsal schedule had us all busy and occupied with very little down time. My wife was being pulled in every direction. Beverly and Patti did all they could to keep the twins and Shane busy. Patti has been a godsend. Shane’s slowly responding to her, letting her in bit by bit. Trey remains one of his favorite people. My friend has been fucking awesome trying to find time to practice with Shane every day.
    Establishing a routine for Shane is also benefiting the rest of us. I’m finding that time does heal, as does living with purpose. Having a specific purpose in life is the best coping mechanism. I know every time I look at Shane I’ll think of Paula. Resuming my life and giving her son only the best in life is my way of justifying her death.
    The door to the kids’ rooms slowly opens. Shane hesitantly walks out of the room, stopping when he sees me.
    “Hey, buddy. You okay?”
    He nods, his feet frozen to the ground.
    I pat the seat beside me. He sniffles once