CHAPTER 12
Galen smiled at the memory of that day as he returned to his childhood home. His father and the mysterious Baldassare, who messaged him often, warned the kid it would take several weeks before they could be reunited, but so far, thanks to the advice he had received, the teen was doing pretty well.
It was a Saturday afternoon, and Galen, who had already finished his part of the group project at school and completed the essay for Monday, didn’t have anything to do.
He scrolled through his phone for a while, reacting to pictures and social media posts from his few friends, but then he grew bored, turned off his phone, rolled onto his stomach, and reflected on how his life had changed since he had been taken from the loving home where he had thrived.
By the end of that first day, any trace of Lonny’s presence in his room had disappeared, and Galen spent the evening arranging the books and the few decorative objects he had brought with him on the shelves.
Then he unpacked the bags and hung the shirts and pants in the dresser, with the socks and underwear going into the drawers.
To Galen’s surprise, his aunt and uncle had his room repainted a few days later, replacing the dull brown walls with two layers of warm, bright yellow, his mother’s favorite shade. The curtains were also replaced with new ones featuring a vibrant spiral pattern.
Lonny wasn’t too happy about being exiled to the attic and once tried to invade Galen’s room, shoving him out of the doorway.
That was the first and last time the fourteen-year-old did that; he learned the hard way that being built like a brick didn’t always guarantee victory in a fight, and that muscles were useless without sharp reflexes.
Galen spoke even less with his aunt and uncle than he had during his first time living with them, mainly to let them know whether he would be participating in a group project or any other activity that required extra time at school.
The boy wasn’t interested in what his relatives discussed among themselves, but sometimes he wished he could be a fly on the wall.
For instance, Galen was eager to learn how Lonny described the black eye he had gotten after their brief fight. He was certain his sturdy cousin wouldn’t admit that the bag of bones had not only caused it but also knocked him to the ground, face down. Not even under torture or to himself.
Uncle Bob is up to no good, Galen frowned, the thought pulling him back from his brief walk down memory lane. For example, those phone calls he gets every day; he always speaks in a meek voice, very different from the arrogant tone he uses when talking to his employees and business associates.
Galen couldn’t explain how he reached that conclusion, but he believed the mysterious phone calls were tied to his return to those people who hated him and whom he felt the same way about.
Somehow, the caller was orchestrating the entire situation, instructing his uncle on what to do and how to behave around him.
Sure, the sudden change in the man’s attitude could have been caused by the long conversation he had with Paul Rivers, the family law attorney, and by the fact that Galen was now aware of his rights, but the kid doubted it was only that.
Not only Bob’s voice, but also his body posture changed during those phone calls, as if the person on the other end of the line were his boss.
You’re imagining things. Galen shook his head at the thoughts running through his mind; you’re reading way too many murder mystery books. However, the boy made a mental note to tell Baldassare about it the next time he messaged. That would be in a few hours, and he let out a long, heavy sigh.
Galen wondered what Papa, his siblings, Basile, and the fantastic three were doing.
He smiled, grabbed his phone from the nightstand, and started typing.
After a moment, he paused, reread the message twice, then frowned in concentration.
Who should I send this to? How about all of them, so they won’t get sad thinking I forgot about them?
After selecting the addresses and hitting the SEND button, Galen rolled onto his back and let out a long, heavy sigh.
Back when he was only tolerated by his relatives, the life he was living now seemed like an impossible dream.
Having a phone, wearing anything other than the oversized clothes his aunt handed down from Lonny, and reading whatever books he wanted without hiding were privileges the teen didn’t even dare to imagine.
Now, Galen had all those things and more, but he missed being with his father, his siblings, the man’s three cool friends, and Basile, who kept everything running smoothly in that big house.
The boy also missed the cats’ soft meows and loud purrs, the delicious smell and taste of home-cooked food, and the laughter and joy when they all gathered around the table, their nostrils flaring in delight.
Papa… The word whispered by Galen’s lips echoed through his heart and soul; every time he thought about Ottavio or anything even remotely related to him, it came to mind. The transition from the liar who didn’t want Mom and me in his life to Ottavio to Papa was smooth and natural.
No one commented at all on how he spoke to Ottavio as he got closer to him, but Galen could see the happiness in their eyes. Even Poisoned Ivy, who didn’t show his emotions openly, wore a soft smile every time he heard the kid call his special friend papa.
Closing his eyes, Galen let out another long sigh, wishing the custody situation were already resolved so he could return to the people who cared about him and whom he cared about—in that house that wasn’t robbed of warmth, unlike the one he was living in now.
There, he had a full, happy life, and he wanted it back.
However, Galen knew it wouldn’t happen very soon, and he also understood that dwelling on things that would only occur in the distant future wouldn’t help him, so he made an effort to focus on the present.
For example, the next day, which was Sunday, church day, the boy grinned at another recent memory.
The day after his arrival, when his aunt cautiously suggested going to church, Galen didn’t object. However, he stubbornly refused to continue attending the Evangelical church his relatives loved and instead asked to join the Catholic congregation, which nearly sent Jenna into a breakdown.
However, they had no choice, so on the first Sunday after he was reunited with the family who didn’t really want him there, Galen began attending the Catholic church in the neighboring town.
He loved everything about it: the old, wise, kind priest, the parishioners, the reverence in the music, and the church itself.
Although he was new, when the community learned of his complicated family situation, they offered Galen all the compassion, understanding, and support he needed.
Even after the kid told him his father was openly gay, the members of the Catholic congregation didn’t reject him.
On the contrary, they prayed for his reunion with his family sooner rather than later.
The Catholic community from the neighboring town restored Galen’s trust in humanity and helped him regain his faith in God and Jesus Christ, which had been shattered by the Evangelicals’ hatred and intolerance.
Above all, they helped him keep hope alive, and he was sure the day he would be reunited with his father was just around the corner.
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“What do you mean there’s a problem with the custody battle?” Ottavio felt like he was running out of air and could barely get the words out. “Didn’t you tell me this Paul Rivers guy was the best family law attorney money could buy? That he would do everything in his power to win the case?”
“Yes, I did,” Baldassare answered immediately, his voice calm. “I also said he has never lost a case, doesn’t like to lose, and that yours would be the first he’d lose, but that won’t happen.” He inhaled sharply. “Sorry, cugino, it was a very unfortunate choice of words.”
Ottavio let out a loud sigh of relief. “This means everything is going as planned, right? For the love of all that’s sacred, don’t scare me like that, cugino.”
“Well, let’s see.” Baldassare cleared his throat. “Paul filed a complaint against the first social worker, the one who dropped Gale off here, for failing to check the conditions of your son’s living situation in that house, and now CPS is investigating her.”
“That’s a good thing,” Ottavio nodded in approval. “Had she done her job properly, they wouldn’t have been allowed to file for custody, and this lawsuit would never have happened.”
“I agree, and so did Paul, who also requested that the judge who granted them temporary custody be suspended and investigated.” Baldassare discreetly coughed. “I might have contributed a little to that as well."
“Mille grazie, cugino,” Ottavio said with a grateful smile. “I promise to return the favor when the time comes. Anything, anytime. You know, a Sforza always keeps their promise.”
“Um…” Baldassare anxiously licks his lips. “This is the good part. There’s a bad one, too, the obstacles I mentioned when you panicked. Before we go further, do you promise not to freak out again? It wouldn’t do any good for you, me, or anyone else.”
“I…I promise,” Ottavio stuttered, burying his face in both hands. “I’ll listen to everything you have to say and speak only afterward or when you ask me to.”
“You are Galen’s biological father and have proven in many ways that you are a loving, responsible parent who can afford to provide his son with the best in everything, from food and clothing to medical care and education.
Also, your collaboration with CPS is excellent, as shown in their inspection reports.
” Baldassare ran a hand over his face. “However, you and Ives are gay, and you know very well the direction this country has taken lately.”
“Whoa, wait a minute!” Ottavio raised his hands in surrender. “Are you implying we might lose the custody battle over such a minor detail? That a judge might consider a couple’s or an individual's sexual preferences more important than the child’s best interests?”
“I’m just warning you that it might be possible.
” Baldassare let out another long sigh. “You have no idea how easily the phrase good Christian family opens doors these days. Any doors. It’s really frightening to think about all the abuses committed in the name of family and tradition.
” He inhaled sharply. “The chances of us running into another asshole, bigoted judge are slim, but this battle could last longer than usual because of... what I just told you.”
“Thank you for letting me know. I appreciate it.” Ottavio looked at his cousin, who was smiling mysteriously. “Wait a minute. You have a solution to the problem you just brought to my attention; otherwise, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. There’s an easy way out, right?”
Baldassare slowly shook his head. “You read me so damn well! Sorry for making you panic so much earlier. It wasn’t my intention. Yes, there is an easy way out, a shortcut, actually, and I’m here to talk to you about it, although I don’t think you’re going to like it very much.”