Chapter Twenty-Five
JOE WOKE to the sound of activity beyond his bedroom door and a surprising almost-rested feeling. It had been days since he’d last woken up not feeling miserable and exhausted. He might not feel good, but he wasn’t on death’s door. So that was an improvement.
Since he was feeling slightly less horrible, he should probably find out what the noise was about. Also, he needed to pee. Again.
Joe shuffled out of his bedroom and all but ran into a mop-wielding Gavin, who was wearing headphones and lip-syncing. Judging by his dance moves, Joe suspected the music was Beyoncé.
None of the questions that came to mind were more urgent than his bladder. But when he’d managed to pee without wanting to fall over, he decided he should take advantage of his sudden stamina to have a quick shower.
Five minutes later, he exited the bathroom with a towel around his hips and heard Meg and Alex puttering around in his kitchen.
Nope. Joe still wasn’t ready to deal with whatever this was. He went to his bedroom for clean clothes.
When getting dressed still didn’t totally wear him out, he figured he was out of excuses. He shuffled back out of his room and asked the now-four teens in his kitchen what the heck they were doing at his house on a Friday at….
“Twelve twenty-three? Shouldn’t you all be at school?” Joe glared. Though the effect was probably lessened by his need to lean heavily against the counter.
“Wow. Will wasn’t lying, you really were sick,” Gavin said around his mouthful of… something he shouldn’t be speaking around.
Joe arched an eyebrow, too tired to verbalise his request for more information. Standing was fine, but standing and talking was apparently too much.
“We haven’t had classes in a week,” Alex explained. “Exams.”
It was exam week? Joe needed to sit down. He’d lost time in there somewhere. Vaguely, he reminded himself to call Greg when he could, find out what he needed to do to keep the business running. Probably he needed to do payroll, at the very least.
Joe shuffled along to the table and lowered himself into a chair. Will came along shortly and wiped the table in front of him. A moment later Meg set down a mug of tea. “Are you hungry?”
Actually, for the first time in long enough that he didn’t want to think about it, Joe was starving. “Yeah. Do we have anything that’s not dry toast?”
“Nonna made manicotti and Italian wedding soup,” Meg offered. “Gavin picked it up. Alex and I are making rice and green beans and chicken. The internet says they’re good if you have a sensitive stomach.”
Manicotti sounded like a bit much, but Joe was sure Austin and Will would appreciate it.
The rest of the kids too, if Nonna had packed her usual portions.
“Soup first, if that’s ready,” he decided.
“Chicken and rice and beans sound good too. I’ll definitely have that for dinner if there’s any left. Thank you.”
At the stove, Alex preened.
Gavin put the soup in the microwave, the headphones now hanging around his neck.
“So, uh….” Joe didn’t want to sound ungrateful, because whatever was happening here, it was awesome. In the time he’d been sick, he’d definitely been mood-swinging all over the place. He had a hard time accepting help, but he’d definitely needed it.
And the person who’d been helping the most was conspicuously absent. Joe barely remembered most of the past week. He hoped he hadn’t said anything to run Austin off.
“Where’s Austin?”
Gavin, Meg, and Alex exchanged wordless glances. Then Alex looked at Will, who nodded with slumped shoulders, and the other three left the kitchen as he took over watching the stove.
Ominous.
“He went to work,” Will said. “I think.”
In the dining room, Gavin, Alex, and Meg divided up tasks. Gavin volunteered for litterboxes, Meg for walking Pepa. Alex said they’d check on the laundry and fold it if it was dry.
Joe snapped his attention out of the twilight zone and back to Will. “You think?”
Will poked at the chicken in the pan. “We’re not exactly talking.”
Oh good. Joe had gotten healthy just in time to mediate a family crisis.
The microwave beeped. Will retrieved the bowl of soup and brought it to the table, along with a spoon, and then returned to the stove to turn the burner off.
Joe picked up the spoon and stirred the soup. The familiar comforting aroma of one of Nonna’s best-loved recipes wafted up to his nose. “Why?”
“I think….” Will dropped into a chair across from Joe. “I think I fucked up.”
That seemed likely. Joe took a bite of soup. Oh God yes. Real food. He tried to pay attention to Will as well. “Oh?”
Will hunched. He’d gotten tall in the past two years, but now he seemed to be making himself small.
“I haven’t been very good. Um, to live with.
Especially when you were away, and then when you were sick.
I just—I didn’t help at all. And I got mad when Austin didn’t do everything for me. And when he wasn’t you. And then I—”
He shut his mouth with a click.
Joe let him hold his silence for a moment while he shoveled in a few more spoonfuls. His stomach did not protest, but he should probably slow down anyway, just in case. He didn’t want to see the soup a second time.
“What is it?” he finally prompted.
“Last night Austin caught me smoking weed in the house and flipped his shit.”
Will probably should’ve offered Austin the weed, after the couple weeks he’d had. No doubt he needed to unwind a little.
Then Joe’s brain reminded him what today was. “Ah. On the night before an exam when he thought you should be studying?”
“In the house when your lungs were barely working, I think was his main objection.” Will rubbed his index finger over an invisible imperfection in the tabletop.
“I didn’t think about it. I didn’t think about you.
Just like I didn’t think about how hard it was for Austin having to do everything for you, and the pets, and me, and try to run a business.
I was only thinking about myself, and I could’ve…
whatever. If I fail an exam, that only affects me. But everything else….”
Joe’s stomach prompted him for more soup. He obliged. Then he had to ask. “When you say flipped his shit…?”
“He yelled. Loudly.” Will hunched over a little more. “I’m surprised it didn’t wake you up. He said he was driving me to school and back for the next week like—like he was grounding me. I told him you weren’t my real dads.”
Joe winced. “Not your finest moment, bud.”
“In my defense,” Will said miserably, “I was high.”
He didn’t sound like he thought it was a particularly good defense, so Joe left it alone. “What did Austin say?”
Will buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook.
Alarmed, Joe let his spoon clatter to the table. He couldn’t move very quickly, but he got up anyway and scuttled around the table so he could put his hand on Will’s shoulder.
Wordlessly, Will turned and buried his face in Joe’s midsection, wrapping his arms around his waist.
Joe’s eyes stung too.
“He said—” Another full-body shudder. “He said you were just the ones who loved me, and I couldn’t—I’ve been such an asshole, I don’t deserve—”
God damn it. Joe was too dehydrated to want to cry like this. “Hey. Hey.” He pulled Will closer. “Will. Yes, you do, okay? God knows what you’re going through isn’t easy. We get it. You think either of us is perfect? I’ve seen Austin eat SpaghettiOs out of the can, Will.”
Will snorted a snotty laugh into Joe’s hoodie. Oh well. Alex could bring up a clean one from the basement. “But I was—I was so mean to him. I thought, if everyone’s going to leave me one day anyway, it’d be easier if—if he already—but he said we, Joe, he said we love you, and I—”
Joe looked up at the ceiling. It didn’t help. Will sobbed against his belly. “Sorry, kid. You’re stuck with us, so let’s try to make the best of it, okay?”
“Okay,” Will gasped, nodding.
Joe ruffled his hair. “Good,” he said. “Now, uh, I’m glad we had this talk, but I really have to sit down. Pneumonia is no fucking joke.”
He resettled into his chair and found Will, red-eyed and blotchy, watching him with concern.
“I’m going to be okay. The meds are working.
” Will nodded to show he understood, but he didn’t look convinced.
Figuring distraction was the best course of action, Joe took a conversational left turn.
“So, I don’t think you ever explained what’s going on with all this.
” He twirled a finger around to indicate everything.
Will shrugged and broke Joe’s gaze. “I asked everyone to come over and help so we could get it all done today. I’m not gonna ask them to every time. I know I need to, like, be better and help out more. I just couldn’t do it all myself this time.”
After taking a moment to chew on that, Joe said, “Look, your home here isn’t contingent on you being good or pleasant or helpful.
We won’t throw you out if you don’t help us vacuum.
But we definitely appreciate the help, and it’s probably not a bad idea to figure out a system for chores so everything’s clear and feels fair. ”
“Okay.” Will nodded seriously and then gave a shadow of his trademark sassy smile. “And I know you won’t throw me out for being a bad house guest. If you were going to, you’d have done it already.”
Joe snorted. “Yeah, probably.”
By the time Austin got home an hour later, Joe had shuffled his way to the living room couch, and the kids were halfway through their plates of manicotti and an episode of Stranger Things.
“Uh, hey,” Austin said slowly as he eyed the scene.
Joe tried to see it from his perspective.
If he’d walked in to find Austin ensconced on the couch in a cozy blanket cocoon with warm tea, drowning in teens who had sprawled over the remaining couch cushions and the floor at his feet, with the smell of chicken and Nonna’s manicotti on the air, he wasn’t sure he would know what to focus on first.
“Hey,” Joe croaked. “The kids took care of dinner.”