Chapter 26
THAT WENT ABOUT AS WELL AS COULD BE EXPECTED
Andi leaned back in his chair and listened to Griff tell a story about some shenanigans the three Donovan brothers had been up to as kids.
It was surprisingly nice to hear about his lover’s past now that the air between Andi and Miranda had been cleared.
Not that they were in the clear yet. Her electric fields were still buzzing like crazy.
She seemed to have decided on a tactical retreat for the time being.
Andi had felt her shock through the pheromones she emitted when George had made it clear that he wouldn’t budge when it came to his relationship with Andi.
Miranda had come with her fists up, expecting to stir the pot enough to get her will, and when she realized it wouldn’t go her way, she was quick to relent.
It meant her bond to her son was more important to her than getting her will, which was a plus point as far as Andi was concerned.
He was under no illusion that she wouldn’t stop trying for the foreseeable future, but that was a worry for another day.
Upset, crying, angry, stomp, stomp, stomp, he knew that blob, knew the shape and the heartbeat and the cadence of the strides, young, agitated, shouldn’t be here, Tyler tromping through the neighborhood, alone, not good, coming their way, faster, faster, whump, whump, whump, his heartbeat so familiar, angry, he was angry—
Andi got up. When George looked at him, he shrugged. “I’m just getting…something from the kitchen.”
George’s electric fields immediately sparked because by now he knew Andi so well. His lover got up too. “Uh, I’m going to help you. Guys, we’ll be back in a minute. Does anybody want cinnamon buns? I could put them in the oven.”
Daniel groaned, rubbed his belly and then said, “Why not? I could go for something sweet.” He sat up. “Come to think of it, let me help you. You’re the birthday boy after all.”
With his entourage in tow, Andi went to the kitchen, tracking Tyler’s progress through the neighborhood at the same time. In only a few minutes, an agitated teenager would crash George’s birthday brunch.
“Hey, everything all right?” Daniel went straight for the fridge, looking for gods knew what. “I’m sorry Mom was so intense. I really thought she’d show more restraint.”
While Daniel was rooting around the fridge, George threw Andi a questioning look. “Tyler is on his way.”
“Oh.”
“What oh?” Daniel emerged from the fridge with a bottle of coconut water. “Are you seriously drinking this, bro?”
“What makes you think I’m drinking that? Could be Andi.”
Daniel just snorted. “Nice try. Now what is ‘oh’?”
In that moment, the bell rang. Andi went to greet Tyler while George tried to come up with an answer for his brother. Unsuccessfully, it seemed, because while Andi greeted Tyler, he heard Daniel.
“Hey, George, why’s a teenager standing in front of your door? Anything you want to tell us?”
“Shut up, Daniel.”
“Is this a bad time?” Tyler’s voice was trembling.
Inwardly, Andi sighed. It was a very bad time, and if anybody else had been standing here, he would have told them as much.
He couldn’t do that with Tyler, though, because it wasn’t the boy’s fault that George’s mother was on the warpath and that his talent was overwhelming him at a time when life itself was difficult enough without any added burdens.
“No, Tyler. It’s fine. Please come in. Do your parents know where you are?”
The mutinous look told him the first order was to send a text message to Chief Norris. While Tyler took off his shoes and George kept Daniel from crowding the teenager, Andi did just that.
Andi: Tyler is with us.
TheBalrog: I’m going to pick him up.
Andi: No. I’ll text when he’s calmed down.
The dots of an answer being composed appeared, vanished, reappeared, vanished again, and then a simple thumbs up came through. Apparently, Chief Norris knew what was wrong and was not in the mood to fight.
“Hi, Tyler, what are you doing here?” George had shoved Daniel back and somehow made it clear to his brother that he needed to behave.
“I had a fight with my mom.” Tyler stared glumly at the neon yellow Crocs that George shoved in his direction.
“Oh, I know that feeling, buddy. Hi, I’m Daniel, George’s older brother.” Apparently, Daniel wasn’t good at behaving.
Tyler shook Daniel’s hand. “Why are you here?”
Daniel grinned. “It’s George’s birthday.” He slung an arm around his brother and ruffled his hair. “The family is here to celebrate.”
Tyler visibly recoiled. “I’m so sorry, George, Andi.” He started trying to get back into his sneakers. “I’ll leave. Happy birthday, George.”
“Thank you, but it’s fine, Tyler. Did you take the bus to come here? It will be some time until the next one leaves. And we’re having cinnamon buns. Are you hungry?”
At the mention of food, Tyler perked up. His talent made for a high metabolism now that it was developing faster. Combined with the natural healthy appetite of every teenage boy, he could always eat.
“I love cinnamon buns.”
“Wonderful. Why don’t you go with Andi, and you can talk about whatever made you come out here while Daniel and I get the buns in the oven?”
Andi smiled at his lover, who had effectively provided them with some space to discuss whatever was bugging Tyler.
He brought the boy upstairs into the guest room that also served as a storage room for George’s weights and other fitness paraphernalia.
They sat down on the queen-size bed, Andi at the head and Tyler toward the foot.
He dragged his left leg under his body and let the right dangle over the edge of the mattress.
Andi waited a few moments to see if Tyler wanted to volunteer some information. When he stayed silent, Andi took over. The boy hadn’t brought any ghosts with him, which was a small blessing.
“So, you had an argument with your mom?”
Tyler stared at his hands, kneading them nervously in his lap.
“When you helped me find out what Boyd and Tina wanted, she saw to it that the two were buried together. It was a lot of work, but she pulled it off. They were happy and left me alone. And I thought maybe things would get better, you know? Between us? That she was finally acknowledging the—everything.” Tyler sighed so deeply that Andi had to fight the urge to drag him into his arms. “But when I wanted to talk about it today, like, ask her some questions about my granddad, she told me she didn’t want to remember anything about him.
Then I said it could help me, and then she said she’d never let me become what he was.
I don’t know what hurt more—that I seem to be an ‘it’ to her like some monster or that my own mother doesn’t want to help me, even though she knows what I’m going through.
And Dad just stood there, saying nothing. He’s completely useless.”
Andi closed his eyes for a moment. He knew exactly what Tyler was going through, felt his pain as an echo of his own.
Being rejected for who you were was bad enough.
Being rejected despite the other person knowing what hardships you were enduring was devastating.
It made you feel like a lantern in a hurricane, unable to withstand the forces whirling around you, yet unable to give up, to simply wink out, because then everything that was you would fade away.
It wasn’t fair to burden anybody with this, let alone a teenager, still half child.
“I can understand why you see it this way.”
“Why am I even staying with them? Why are they even keeping me? Can’t I live with you?
Please let me move in with you!” Tyler leaned forward and grabbed Andi’s hands.
His pheromones were all over the place as were his electric fields.
His heart rate was too fast, and everything about him screamed misery.
“Living with me and George wouldn’t be such a great idea. We’re traveling a lot, and our working hours aren’t ideal for a teenager.” There, the voice of reason.
“I don’t care. I can cook, and nobody needs to oversee my homework anymore. Please, Andi. I just want to live at a place where I’m not viewed as an inconvenience or a mystery at best and a threat at worst.”
“I don’t think your parents view you as a threat. They love you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because they haven’t kicked you out, which was exactly what my father threatened me with before my mother left him.”
Tyler stared at him with wide eyes.
“Listen, Tyler, I’m not going to lie to you and tell you they’re great parents and that everything is perfect.
We both know that’s BS. What I am going to tell you is that they’re at least trying.
It is more than I had and more than many other kids who are different one way or another can say for themselves.
It’s not ideal, but it’s worth sticking it out and trying to make it better.
And yes, comparing one pain to another doesn’t make your own less painful, but perhaps it can lend you some perspective. ”
“And what if I don’t want to have perspective?” Tyler was now playing with the hem of his T-shirt.
“I’m afraid you have no choice. They are your parents, and they’re trying. And I don’t think your mother will ever be willing to let you move in with me. Not in a thousand years and when hell freezes over.”
“You don’t get along well.”
“That’s the understatement of the century.
Though it’s gotten better since you came into the picture.
How about this? You promise me to give your parents a few more chances, and I promise to be there as a mediator when needed and to provide a bed when you need some distance.
A sleepover should be fine with your mom. ”
“Can I stay tonight?”
The sheer hope in Tyler’s voice had Andi stalling.
It was George’s birthday, and naturally, he would have said they needed some time alone after his family was on their way back home.
Their flight was scheduled early in the evening, and the plan was for them to leave around three p.m. Tyler lifted his head from where it was buried against Andi’s stomach, looking at him with pleading eyes. Andi sighed.
“I have to talk to George first. And your mother.”
Tyler sat up. “Thank you!”
“Don’t thank me yet. Let’s go down to the kitchen and find George.”
George was watching the cinnamon buns browning in the oven while Daniel stirred the glass bowl with the glaze George would put on the hot buns.
The brothers were bickering about the right consistency of the sugary liquid, with Daniel insisting it should be thicker while George argued it was just right.
“Really, bro, this is not right. It’s practically water and will never dry!”
“It will, trust me. I’ve been making cinnamon buns for years. I know what I’m doing.”
“I sincerely doubt it. You need more sugar.”
“Says the man who doesn’t even know what a confectioner’s knife is for!”
“I don’t need a confectioner’s whatever to put on some glaze!”
“I think I’m glad I’m an only child,” Tyler muttered while the brothers were staring at each other over the bowl with the glaze.
“This is my birthday and my kitchen and these are my cinnamon buns and we leave the glaze the way it is.” George’s voice brooked no argument, which of course motivated Daniel to contradict him.
“I’m your older brother, who by default knows better. I’m your guest, so I get a say in what I’m served, and I traveled all the way down here to celebrate with you so show a little gratitude.”
Their gazes were locked. Both had their hands around the glass bowl, not giving an inch, and Andi already saw it crashing on the tiles.
The silverfish would love the sugary treat, and it would no doubt garner the attention of the ants in the garden.
Both brothers were trying their best not to laugh, though it was a losing game.
Daniel leaned forward until he was nose to nose with George.
“Andi, tell your partner that a glaze has to have some thickness.”
Andi made a face. “If this was your attempt at an innuendo, I have to inform you that you suck.”
“Andi! It wasn’t, and you’re supposed to help me here. I’m your future brother-in-law! We should stick together!”
“Against my future husband in this scenario of yours?”
“To add spice to your marriage!”
“Sorry, Daniel, I have more than enough spice in my life. George’s glaze is perfect. I’ve been treated to it more than enough to say this with full confidence.”
“You wound me, Andi.” Daniel made a dramatic face while George started giggling.
After a moment, Daniel did the same, letting go of the bowl at the same time. It didn’t crash, but only because George’s reflexes were worthy of Spiderman.
“Fine, you win. Make the glaze the way you want it.” Daniel threw his hands in the air.
George pumped his fist after he put the bowl down. “Common sense triumphs again.”
“And just for that, I should kick your ass.”
“In your dreams.”
Both brothers huffed before Daniel turned to Tyler. “Are you staying for the buns, champ?”
Tyler looked at George, who nodded. “Yes. I’d love to.”
“Wonderful!” Daniel clapped his hands. “George, they look about right. Get them out and pour your mediocre glaze on them, then we can eat.”
“With you complaining all the time how you’d have made it better?”
“You know me so well.”
And that was basically how the visit with George’s family ended.
They enjoyed the perfect cinnamon buns, ignored the pointed looks from Miranda in Tyler’s direction, said their goodbyes when the rideshare picked up the guests, and then they started cleaning up.
George had no problem with Tyler staying over, and, miracle of miracles, Chief Norris didn’t put up a fight either.
Andi had a suspicion that she was secretly relieved to have some breathing space.
As much as he resented it, he did have some empathy for her.
Dealing with a kid like Tyler was a challenge, even more so when your own bad experiences clouded your judgment while the love you had for that kid warred with your own trauma. Being an adult sucked.
Tyler was too emotionally drained to do much talking and instead opted to take up camp on the sofa and watch TV, where he was joined by George after the kitchen was spotless once again.
Andi went outside to do some yoga before he, too, ended up on the sofa snuggled against George.
As far as birthdays went, this one was fine.