Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
The phone rings through the speakers in my Jeep, and I glance at the screen to see my brother Jonathan's name. I hit answer as I continue cruising down the road. “Hey.”
“Hey, man, what's up?” Jonathan’s voice sounds through the speakers.
“Just left work,” I say. “What about you?”
“Oh, you know…” He sighs. “Procrastinating mowing the lawn.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “Dude, you have a ride-on mower. Crack a beer and go for a ride.”
He laughs. “Yeah, but… I just don't want to. What are you doing tonight? Wanna kayak around Witless Bay?”
“Can't,” I say, glancing at the clock. “I'm heading to meet Arthur's parents.”
“Reeeeally,” Jonathan drawls. “Meeting the family already, eh? So, when do we get to meet him?”
I wince slightly. “Well… we need to take our time with that. ”
“Why?” Jonathan asks. Then he gasps dramatically. “Are you ashamed of us or something?”
“No,” I chuckle, but then I hesitate and shift a bit in my seat as my eyes catch the sign for Briar’s End, just two kilometres away. “He’s autistic. So, he gets easily overwhelmed by busy environments.”
“Oh, damn.” He pauses for a moment. “Well, then… yeah. Good call on easing him into our zoo.” He chuckles as the sound of my niece and nephew arguing in the background becomes louder. “Really good call. But, whenever you do bring him around, I'm looking forward to meeting the guy who's stolen you away. We rarely get to see you anymore, b’y.”
I sigh with a nod to myself, and some guilt settles in my chest. “Yeah. Life is a bit slower these days…”
“Well there’s nothing wrong with that. You need it.” The arguing in the background grows louder and Jonathan sighs. “Alright, I gotta go deal with this war over… a paintbrush? Seriously guys? For the love of—” he cuts himself off and releases a breath. “Have fun tonight. Be charming.”
I laugh as I turn onto Arthur’s parents’ street, and double-check the directions to make sure I’m in the right place. “Always am.”
“Yeah right, fucker,” Jonathan mumbles, and I laugh as we both hang up.
The houses along the street are all spaced far apart, each of them nestled in its own little world among the trees. When I pull up to the number Arthur gave me, a smile spreads across my face as I take in the charming yellow house surrounded by large trees. It looks happy and inviting, and I can totally picture Arthur growing up here, tucked away in a place that seems as quiet and peaceful as he is.
I pull into the driveway and park beside Arthur's car, the sight of it bringing me a feeling of comfort to know he’s already here, and I get to join him in his routine. It’s Wednesday, which means he had coffee with his mom this afternoon. And when he texted me earlier, shyly inviting me for supper at his mom's request, there was no way I could say no.
I need to meet the amazing people who raised my Firefox.
I grab the bouquet of flowers from the passenger seat and pause as I stare down at them. I debated between bringing flowers or wine, and ended up choosing the flowers just in case they don’t drink. But Arthur drinks… Maybe I should have brought both. Dammit, I’m overthinking this. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never met a boyfriend’s parents. Well… really, I’ve never had a boyfriend. My previous relationships were casual, and if I met their families, it was because we already had some other connection. But this is all new, and his parents are so important to him. I really don’t want to screw this up.
My heart thumps as I step out of my Jeep and walk up the path towards the front door, adjusting my shirt and fixing my hair, while also wishing I had brought a change of clothes today and had time to shower before I left the clinic.
But as I reach the front door, I take a deep breath and knock. And a few moments later, Arthur opens the door and his bright green eyes immediately ease my anxiety. He's in a simple black t-shirt and jeans, with his red hair the usual tousled mess… and he looks absolutely perfect.
“Hi,” he says, stepping aside so I come into the house.
“Hey,” I reply with a smile, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of his head.
But his eyes are locked on the flowers in my hand with a confused expression on his face. “Why do you have flowers?”
I chuckle. “They're for your mom.”
But this does nothing to ease his confusion. “Why?” he asks.
Before I can answer, a voice calls from behind him. “ Because he's clearly a gentleman, Arthur.” A woman with shoulder-length red hair and the same green eyes as Arthur steps into view with a warm smile. “You must be Trevor.”
“I am.” I nod and hand her the flowers. "I don’t know much about flowers, but I was told these are nice ones.”
She laughs as she takes them. “They're beautiful, thank you. And I'm Michelle. Neil, Arthur’s dad, is just out back setting the table. We thought we’d eat outside since it’s such a beautiful day.”
Arthur watches us with his features still twisted in confusion, and Michelle chuckles softly.
“It's common to bring flowers when you're a guest for dinner, especially for a boyfriend's mother,” she explains to Arthur, then smells the flowers as she turns towards the kitchen. “Come on in,” she calls over her shoulder.
Arthur’s expression turns thoughtful. “I didn’t know that.”
I smile, unable to keep myself from leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips. “It’s new to me too.”
Arthur leads me through the house towards the back, and the warmth and coziness of his childhood home wraps around me. Sunlight streams through sheer curtains, rays of golden light spilling over the photos that line the walls, and the floorboards creak under our feet in a way that makes this house feel lived-in and loved.
But then, one photo catches my eye and stops me in my tracks. I gently tug Arthur’s hand, bringing him to a halt with me.
“Oh my god…” I whisper, unable to tear my eyes away.
Arthur turns to look at me, then follows my gaze to the photo. “What?”
I point to a photo on the wall of a little Arthur, maybe four or five years old, with bright red hair and a serious expression as he looks at something in the distance. He’s standing near a river, surrounded by large green trees, holding a toy camera. “This is adorable .”
Arthur glances at the photo, nodding slightly. “It’s me.”
I laugh. “I figured. The hair kind of gave it away.”
He blinks and looks at the picture again, as if just realizing there’s a resemblance. “Oh. Yeah.”
“Well, hello!” A voice sounds from behind us. A man with a welcoming smile, clearly Arthur's father, holds out his hand. “I’m Neil.”
I take his hand, instantly feeling at ease with the familiarity, because Arthur has his smile. “Nice to meet you. I’m Trevor.”
Neil glances at the photo between us. “He took that toy camera everywhere. Soon after this photo we got him a real one, and everyone thought we were crazy. But…” he gestures to the photos on the wall, all beautiful shots of landscapes and wild animals, “I’d say it worked out.”
I smile, meeting Arthur's eyes. “I’d say.”
Neil turns towards the kitchen. “What can I get you to drink? Wine, beer, rum?”
“Oh, uh…” I glance at Arthur, not quite sure what the protocol is here. Should I drink while meeting his parents for the first time? I mean, he’s offering but… what if he’s just being polite and they don’t drink? But Arthur just looks at me expectantly, waiting for my answer. I huff out a little laugh to myself as I turn back to Neil. “Whatever you’re having.”
Neil nods and heads to the fridge, and a delicious smell fills the kitchen as Michelle opens the oven door to peek inside.
“Arthur says you’re also a vegetarian,” she says, peering back at me as she closes the door. “I hope you like zucchini lasagna.”
Neil hands me and Arthur each a glass of beer, and I take it with a smile. “That sounds delicious. Can I help with anything? ”
Michelle shakes her head, gesturing towards the back patio. “The lasagna needs about twenty more minutes, but there are appetizers on the table outside.”
Arthur glances out the door. "We never have appetizers," he says very matter-of-factly.
Neil chuckles. “Well, we’ve got a guest. So, we’re putting on a show.”
Arthur’s fingers fidget around his glass as he furrows his brow, and it looks like he’s trying to figure out what that means. I slip my arm around his waist and give him a little squeeze. As new as this is for me, I know it’s even newer for him, and he’s trying his best to understand it.
We follow Neil and Michelle out to the back patio, and somehow this quaint little house becomes even more peaceful and cozy. The yard is enclosed by trees, casting dappled shade over the space, with birds singing in the branches around us. As we sit at the table, I smile at Arthur and point to where the birds are chirping. “Swallows?”
“Tree Swallows.” He nods, glancing up to the trees, though we can only hear them and not see them. “They return to Newfoundland from Central America in May. They like these trees. And they’re fast. When they fly out, they scatter in all directions but never collide. I’ve tried to photograph them in flight many times, but they’re too quick. You’ll see when they fly away.”
Michelle nods. “It’s quite the sight.” Then she gestures to the crackers, bread, and cheeses spread across the table. “Dig in.”
“This looks amazing,” I say with a smile, gladly reaching for a slice of fresh bread.
“So, a wildlife vet,” Neil says. “That’s quite the job. Arthur was saying you do research on caribou?”
I nod. “Yes, we’re working on a study on caribou conservation. The population is steadily declining here, and we’re trying to gather as much data as possible to understand why.”
“And you treat animals too?” Michelle asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “I work at two clinics. The conservation centre and one in St. John’s for some domestic and exotic pets. But most of my time is spent at the centre. Between research and rehabbing wild animals, it’s pretty busy.”
Arthur’s head lifts, and his eyes shift between me and his parents. “Like the bird.”
Neil smiles. “Ah yes, the bird. How is she doing?”
“Good,” Arthur says before I can even open my mouth to respond, and he sits up straighter as his eyes light up. “She’s back at Trevor’s house and he built her a flight cage in his barn. She’s ready for flight conditioning this week because the pin is out, and it went well. It looks like nothing even happened to her wing. But she doesn’t have to stay at the clinic like I thought she was going to, because she has her own flight cage at home and we get to help her there.”
I smile at the excitement oozing out of him, and I can’t ignore the way my heart flips when he talks about my home like it’s a space for us … like it could someday be our home. And I really like the idea of that. I want to spend every moment with him, listening to him talk about the things he loves, bask in his quiet comfort, and help him feel safe and good in this world. I want to build that world for us, the one we talked about weeks ago when we were still getting to know each other. To be wild and free, together.
As I watch him now, answering his parents’ curious questions with ease, sitting here in this space of comfort and trust, I realize I am experiencing something rare and beautiful. He’s invited me into his safe place, with the people he trusts most in this world. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and these feelings for him are only growing stronger every day we spend together.
A timer suddenly goes off, interrupting the moment, and Arthur flinches, covering his ears with his hands as it beeps loudly.
“Sorry, honey,” Michelle says, quickly grabbing it and turning it off. “I meant to catch that before it went off. It’s for the lasagna.”
Arthur gives the timer a look so sharp that I have to press my lips together to keep from chuckling, like he's personally offended by its mere existence. I slide my hand onto his thigh under the table, and his gaze shifts to me. I smile at him when our eyes meet, and his expression softens. His gaze flicks to my lips, then his hand finds mine and gives it a gentle squeeze as a small, warm smile spreads across his face.
“I’ll get the lasagna,” Neil says, pushing his chair back and standing up.
Michelle begins to rise as well, but Neil places a hand on the back of her chair to stop her. “And where do you think you’re going?”
“To refill drinks,” she says with a laugh.
Neil motions to Arthur. “You and Trevor stay put. Arthur and I will go get the lasagna and drinks.”
Arthur stands, and I start to push my chair back too. “I can help?—”
But Neil waves me off and turns towards the door. “Don’t even think about it.”
Michelle watches Arthur and Neil head inside as I settle back into my seat, and once the door is closed, she turns back to the table with her hand pressed to her mouth and her eyes glisten with tears.
Oh shit.
“Are you ok?” I ask, leaning forward with concern .
She waves her hand and smiles at me with watery eyes. “Yes, sorry.” She nods. “More than ok. Just… Thank you, Trevor. For truly seeing my boy.”
The emotion behind her words has my heart aching for her and Arthur, and tears sting my own eyes.
“I know it sounds strange coming from his mother, but…” she wipes at her eyes, “I didn’t know if he would ever find something like this… someone like you.” She looks into my eyes, the bright green so much like Arthur’s. “Not because of him, but because of other people. They don’t take the time to understand him, and to see how beautiful he is.”
I nod. “He really is,” I say softly.
She smiles warmly. “And you clearly are too.” She glances at the door to make sure Arthur and Neil are still inside. “He’s had a rough go. School was an absolute nightmare, between bullies and the lack of support… He barely spoke through high school, and there was a time when he didn’t say a word for months. He just completely shut down.” She takes a deep breath, and I can see how heavily this all weighs on her. “After he finished school, he completely pulled away from everything, and focused only on his work and being out in nature. It makes him happy, but… I don’t know if he was ever truly happy.” Her eyes meet mine again. “But I can see now that he is.”
I nod again, a soft smile spreading across my lips as I take in the hope in her eyes. “He’s incredible.”
The door opens, and Michelle quickly wipes her eyes, putting on a bright smile as Arthur walks over and sets a fresh glass of wine in front of her.
“Thanks, baby,” she says, smiling up at him.
He then takes my glass and starts pouring a beer into it. And I just watch him, thinking of everything Michelle said. He’s shared a little about school with me, how he was told not to stim, and as a result was forced to hide himself away. He often talks poorly about himself, and can become embarrassed when he shows me things that make him who he is. Because he’s learned to hide from the world, and to keep that part of himself locked up. But I don’t think I fully realized just how difficult life has been for him, and how much he’s carried for so long.
I’ve seen his struggles with noise, crowded spaces, and changes to his routine. But it's more than that. It's the crushing weight of constantly being misunderstood, and the sharp sting of rejection he’s faced over and over. And it’s left him feeling isolated. Life has been cruel in ways I can’t fully comprehend, and I can see how it’s led to the need to keep his distance to feel safe.
Arthur places my now-full glass in front of me, and I take his hand with a squeeze. “Thanks, Firefox.”
His cheeks flush slightly as he smiles, and god he’s so fucking cute.
He takes his seat next to me, and my attention lands on the lasagna in the middle of the table. “That looks amazing,” I say.
“Michelle is a fantastic cook,” Neil says, kissing the top of her head before he takes his seat.
But as he picks up the spatula, he hesitates with it hovering above the lasagna. He chuckles and looks at me. “For every meal, I’ve always served Michelle and Arthur first. We like routine in this house,” he winks at Arthur and gives him a reassuring nod. Then he flips the handle around to me. “My apologies, it’s a habit. Please, help yourself.”
I glance down at the spatula as he holds it out for me, and feel Arthur fidgeting beside me.
“You know,” I say, looking at Arthur, “I’m learning to appreciate routine myself. Some things just don’t feel right without it.” Then I sit back in my seat. “We can’t just interrupt a long-standing routine. ”
Neil smiles, and Michelle catches my eye with a look of gratitude.
“You’ll fit in here just fine, Trevor,” Neil says, scooping lasagna onto Arthur’s plate. Then he does the same for Michelle, and when he looks at me, I smile and hold up my plate.
“I agree,” I say.
With a beaming smile, he serves me too, and I feel Arthur’s hand slide onto my thigh.
We share a quiet smile, and I’m overcome with appreciation for him. This intimate glimpse into his life, seeing the world that has shaped him, and the battles he’s silently fought to get here, only deepens my feelings for him. Being in this house, in his routine, with the people who love him for exactly who he is… it feels like I’m witnessing something special. I’m so happy he has these incredible people in his corner, who have helped him grow into the amazing person I’m falling for. And I’m beyond grateful that I now get to be a part of this world too.