14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
Hugo
“ W ho shit in your Corn Flakes?”
I glanced down at the bowl of my favorite cereal.
Nope, even Renee’s crappy comment wasn’t going to deter me from my delicious treat. The one I indulged in when I was feeling sorry for myself.
Which my best friend knew.
“Never mind.” I might’ve said that through a mouthful.
She tossed a piece of crust at me. She never ate her crust.
I snagged it midair, swallowed my mouthful, then popped the crust in as well. I was hungry. And not a good hungry. Not the I’ve just run a marathon and lifted weights and swum the ocean kind of hunger. No, the I’m hurting emotionally and comfort food will make me feel better .
Except Corn Flakes every day for two months hadn’t moved the needle.
Nothing had.
Renee leaned back after having polished off eggs, toast, tomato slices, and turkey bacon. She placed her hands gently on her rounded abdomen. As if she could somehow keep her womb protected. Especially given what was inside.
Or who.
Or two someones.
Jesus.
Twins.
I still couldn’t believe it. The couple who’d struggled with infertility and miscarriages for so long, took a break from everything and…boom!
Twins.
I’d been informed I would be the godfather-slash-honorary uncle, and I better have my diaper-changing skills ready to go.
As an older brother whose younger sister was raised by a nanny, I had no experience with infants. The kids I visited in the cancer unit at the hospital tended to be older. Lots of people visited to keep the young ones entertained. The older kids were sometimes neglected. Some wanted to be just left alone, but others craved intellectual stimulation. Me bringing a couple of guitars and giving impromptu lessons went over well. So when these nieces and/or nephews finally hit their early teens—or even a bit younger—then I was ready.
Diapers terrified me. Not because I couldn’t learn, but because I worried I might, like, drop a baby or something. Or, almost worse, say something or do something that would scar them for life. I could handle teenagers for the most part, but fucking up some kid? That would gut me.
Like you did with Axel?
I’d hoped we could continue to talk through things. I’d scrutinized the media, and aside from the announcement of the deal with Grand Central Records, there hadn’t been much in the way of media coverage. Axel had appeared on the arm of an actress at a premiere a couple weeks ago, but either Ed hadn’t shown up that night or he hadn’t been photographed. If he’d gone with Thornton, I suspected that would’ve been the story. Were the two men still together? How was Axel coping? Had he shared his bisexuality with anyone? Thornton and Ed had obviously seen the video—which also hadn’t surfaced—but had they had an honest conversation with Axel? Was he keeping things bottled up, or was he sharing what happened with people who could help him?
Too many questions, too few answers.
A cloth napkin hit me square on my face and landed in the leftover milk with a plop. “Hey.”
“That’s what your washing machine is for.”
Still, even as Renee said the words, I tried to rescue the napkin before it got wetter. So much for environmentalism—I could’ve just tossed a paper napkin.
Of course, that was the point.
“Hugo.”
At her command, I snapped my attention to her. “Yes?”
“Seriously. We’re a week away from Christmas. We’re two months past Rocktoberfest. You haven’t been the same person since we got back. Hell, you weren’t this mopey after your marriage ended.”
“Really?” I squinted. “I seem to recall I was pretty bad.”
“That’s my point.” She sighed.
A sigh I recognized well. I was about to be schooled . And because I loved her, I would listen.
I sipped my coffee, decided it needed to be reheated, and headed over to the microwave.
“Hugo.” That might’ve come out with more force and a lot of exasperation.
“You know I don’t drink cold coffee, and because you can’t ingest caffeine, I didn’t make a pot.” I was so jumpy these days that I tried to limit my intake.
Another sigh. “I miss real coffee.”
“Do you want more decaf?”
A third sigh. “I want you to tell me what happened two months ago. I want you to tell me why you’re seriously contemplating going to your parents’ house for Christmas when Cope and I have extended a perfectly reasonable invitation.
The microwave beeped, and I retrieved my coffee. “It’s a generous invitation. But you’re hosting your families—at the same time. Yes, this old house is big but…” With Cope working like a dog and Renee having some decent tenure in the school system, they’d managed to buy a ramshackle heritage house. I got the sense their families had kicked in a bit as well. That house screamed two things—children and renovations. My friends were on their way with one and struggling with the other.
Hence my showing up on a Saturday morning prepared to work. “We’re ripping up the flooring in the second bathroom, right? Will we be able to get the new flooring in before the family descends?”
“They can use the en suite off the primary bedroom or the guest one down here. I don’t imagine more than three people needing to go at once.”
“And how many will be here?”
“Twenty-seven.”
I winced. Visibly. “Well, that will keep you very busy.”
“Cope’s dad’s running the kitchen and my mom’s got the barbecue out back.”
“It’s supposed to be near freezing.” I’d grown up in Vancouver—I had thin blood. I didn’t tolerate cold.
Renee waved me off. “The colder the better. You forget Mom comes from Fort St. John. Anything above freezing is balmy to her.”
Yeah, I remembered. I didn’t understand the insanity of living in Canada’s north. Or the north of any of the countries that buttressed the north pole. I didn’t want Mexico’s heat…but I didn’t mind the occasional visit to Cancun.
But that had been during my marriage. These days I paid the mortgage, and that was about it. I didn’t want—nor could I afford—big trips. I’d become a homebody.
Much to my parents’ chagrin.
“So you’re coming for Christmas?”
I blinked. “We were discussing ripping up warped vinyl floors.”
She wagged her finger at me. “We were discussing why you’re moping.”
Fucking hell.
Suddenly, like a balloon whose air had just been released, I gave up the fight. I plopped down in my chair, pushed my cereal bowl back, placed the coffee on the table, and cupped it with my hands. Seeking warmth. Seeking strength. “I fucked up.”
I expected a flippant response, but Renee held my gaze when I glanced up.
Then said nothing until I felt compelled to fill the silence.
A trick she undoubtedly learned from Cope.
“I met someone.”
Her expression didn’t change. Somewhere between neutral and yeah, fuckwit, tell me something I didn’t know .
“And…he overheard something—”
She sat straighter.
I winced. “Merkerson called. At six-thirty in the fucking morning. I mean, I was on vacation—”
She held up her hand. “Why was Merkerson calling you while you were at Rocktoberfest?” Her eyes narrowed. “I can guess…but I’d prefer to hear from you.”
Which I’d do…because I loved her. I sighed.
Her eyebrow shot up.
Yeah, I can sigh too. “So he called because he was checking up. He gave me the time off to see the concert because he assumed I would have an in with Ed and Axel. Former students and all that.”
She rolled her hand, gesturing me to get to the good part.
“But I didn’t have an in . I couldn’t very well ask them to come back to the school to give a charity concert. Something that would undoubtedly elevate Merkerson.”
“Undoubtedly.” She might’ve groused that.
“And I know the school—and specifically the music program—really needs money. But Ed already volunteers with kids in the neighborhood. He must be aware more money’s needed. The thing is, it’s not up to him to fix our problems. Government needs to step up and do more. We pay taxes—more of that should go into the schools.”
“Hugo.” Said softly.
“I know.” I sighed. “Opioid crisis. Homelessness crisis. Crime crisis. Crumbling infrastructure crisis. Climate change adaptation crisis.” I pounded my fist on the table. “Yet, somehow, the kids always get left to the bottom of the heap. They don’t vote, so they don’t matter.”
“That might be a touch cynical. Their parents vote.”
“Their parents have a million other things to content with. You know this—if the kid’s coming to my school, then the parents is likely working two or three jobs just to keep a crappy roof over their head. Or they’re on social assistance. Or disability. The point is, very few people send their kids to a crumbling school on purpose. I mean, they retrofitted us for a possible earthquake but didn’t fix the carpets, walls, or ceiling tiles. The school’s falling apart, and we’re not even on the plan to get a replacement.” I wasn’t telling Renee anything she didn’t already know.
She worked for a prestigious private school on the west side.
I worked on the downtown eastside.
Two different worlds.
Which was why I couldn’t just demand Axel and Ed come back to show generosity. Hell, I didn’t know what kind of money they were making. An evening’s show might not be a big deal or it might be a huge undertaking they couldn’t afford. Regardless, the decision was theirs to make—and not mine to ask.
Renee narrowed her eyes. “So who the fuck overheard? The guy in your tent?”
“Well…yeah…”
Wait for it…
“Holy fucking shit.” She grinned. “Ed? Because I’ve always gotten a bi vibe from him. And, oh my God, he’s so hot. I like shorter guys—”
“Cope’s—”
She waved me off. “So Ed. Those dreadlocks. Those soulful—”
“Not Ed.”
That stopped her. “I don’t think Big Mac’s gay or bi. I mean—”
“Why did you skip over Axel?” I was going to tell her anyway, but I was curious why she didn’t go for, what seemed to me, the most obvious.
“Well…he was your student.”
“So was Ed.” God, she’d been there, for Christ’s sake. Had gotten an earful from me as I lamented the end of my disastrous marriage.
“Well, sure.” She rubbed her belly. “They were both your students. But…Axel was special. You nurtured him even more than Ed. You composed those songs with him. You…” She hesitated. “I thought you saw yourself as a father figure to him.”
Ed’s father had long taken off, and Axel’s father had been mostly absent. Both boys had been in need of guidance. And I’d stepped gingerly into that role. I hadn’t been teaching that long myself and to wind up in such a difficult role…it tested all my abilities.
I sighed. Another fucking sigh. “I saw myself as a father figure to both boys—and I’m not sure that was appropriate.”
“You took care of them. You nurtured their talent. And look where they are now. Other students have wound up in bands, orchestras, and singing in musical theater productions. You’ve had a hell of a lot of successful students—especially given what you had to work with.”
“I know.” I closed my eyes. “But you’re right—it’s a line I never should’ve crossed with Axel.” Maybe that was as much of what the self-flagellation was about. Not just that he’d overheard my conversation—and taken everything out of context—but that we shouldn’t have been in my tent at all. Hand jobs, blow jobs, kissing. So much kissing—
“Yo, Threadgold, pay attention.”
I snapped my gaze back to hers.
“How old is he now? Twenty-seven?”
“He turned twenty-eight in September.”
“Okay, so a bit beyond being a minor. Now, I’m going to ask a tough question and you better fucking be honest with me. I can always tell when you’re lying to me. That’s why the last two months have been so shitty.”
She could tell.
And they had been shitty.
“Yeah?”
“Did you have an inappropriate relationship with him ten years ago?”
“No.” The answer burst forth from me with vehemence.
“Did you think of him in that way ten years ago?”
“Fuck, no.”
“When did things change?”
I drew in a sharp breath. I couldn’t argue they hadn’t…because obviously they had. Could I pin down a moment? Some time when I stopped seeing him as a young kid and instead a man?
“Their fifth album, I think. The one that came out last year. He did that video…”
Renee snorted. Yeah, she knew the one I was talking about.
The slick bare chest. The black leather pants with the top button undone and just a hint of what was to come. His smooth voice belting out love lyrics. About falling for the right person. About how love came on unexpectedly, but hit hard. The band hadn’t played that song at Rocktoberfest, but they totally could have. One of their more popular tunes. One I’d played over and over again. “Not until recently and, frankly, not fully until he kissed me.”
She sat up straighter. “Okay, this you have share.”
“What does he have to share?” Cope stepped into the kitchen which was situated at the back of the house. He finger-combed his hair as he approached. “That snow’s really coming down.” He pressed a kiss to Renee’s cheek.
Her squeal brought a smile to my lips.
“He’s cold,” she protested.
“Uh-huh.”
Cope pressed a hand to her baby bump. So miniscule it could barely be seen. But clearly there. He focused his attention on me. “I got the new flooring in the back of my SUV. I hate to ask—”
“Oh, we definitely need to haul it in so that no one decides to break into your vehicle and steal it.” Because, very likely, someone might try. I started to rise.
Renee pointed to my chair. “Don’t even think about it.”
Cope laughed. Then pointed to my coffee. “You want another one?”
Considering we’d be ripping up vinyl and putting down tiles for the next umpteen hours…? I held out my cup. “Yes, please.”
Renee leaned forward. “Great, while he’s brewing coffee, you spill the beans.”
And so I did.