Chapter Thirteen #2
“For example, apparently, if Rupert makes plans with Maisie, then Ian is expected to be available to look after Alfie. If Winston wants to spend time with his friends, while his mate is away—red flag there by the way, just saying—and he needs Ian to babysit, then where is the reciprocity in all of this?”
“Ian doesn’t have children,” Winston said, blinking as if the idea of doing something for Ian didn’t compute.
“I don’t see how not having children would stop you from asking Ian around for a meal, where he’s not the only adult present. Have you been making meals for Ian to take home with him, after he’s babysat for you, so that he doesn’t have to cook for a couple of nights?
“I’m sure you’ve been doing something right? Isn’t that what a family does?” He didn’t think so! “Can you tell me what you’ve been doing for your son in return for the countless hours he spends looking after your children, or running around doing errands for charities in his parents’ name?”
It was like someone had flicked a switch, and suddenly no one could talk. Bianca was prodding her husband’s bicep, and Jane didn’t look happy with Winston either. Maisie was totally ignoring Rupert, but she was doing a lot of eye communication with Ian’s mom.
“Ian’s very independent and self-sufficient,” Ian’s mom said at last. “We’ve always respected and admired that about him. Regardless, the fact still remains that because you are unable to have children…”
“Will you stop saying that?” Ian reached over and gave Alfie to Rupert—his anxiety was upsetting the baby. “Why can’t Rick and I have children? Why can’t we adopt? Why can’t we use surrogacy? Who even said we wanted children?
“This is all about you, Mom, and what you want. And it is not that I don’t love you, because you know I do. Yet you guys have blatantly taken advantage of me, and it has to stop.”
Ian pulled out his phone and clicked on his calendar app, turning the screen so his family could see.
Rick had never been prouder than he was in that moment.
Ian flicked through the calendar, month after month after month.
Rick had already seen it, color-coded for the different kids and the various times asked to babysit.
The different times he was expected to run errands and do chores for his family.
There were so many of them every single week.
“This is my life,” Ian said, pointing at his phone. “This is how much I have done for you just this year alone. Red for Mom, blue for Maisie, green for Winston, and purple for William. Look at it.”
“I barely ask you to babysit at all, maybe once or twice a week,” Maisie said quickly.
“Yeah,” William added. “For goodness's sake, you only have mine once or twice a week, and the occasional weekend. You don’t have kids. You don’t realize how much we need a break. How hard it is raising children and that sometimes we just want some adult time?”
“Oh, I understand,” Ian said, nodding. “But if I’m babysitting for you, a couple of times a week,” he pointed at Winston, “and then you once or twice a week,” he indicated towards William this time, “and then you when you want a date night with your mate,” this one was directed at Maisie, “and then mom’s charity chores over the weekend, because apparently I’m a lousy son if I don’t help with that as well, that’s my whole week gone.
“Where’s my time to date? Where’s my time to enjoy myself?
Where’s my time to go out with my friends?
All of you individually think, ‘oh, I don’t ask that much of Ian’, but when you add it all up together in one week, I never have time for myself at all.
” Clicking off his phone, Ian put it back in his pocket, sitting back and resting against Rick’s arm.
“I thought you’d be really happy for me, I really did. ”
“We are,” Ian’s mom said. “We couldn’t be happier for you that you found a mate. He’s not what we expected, but he’ll do…”
“He’ll do! How dare you?”
Rick could tell that Ian was ready to explode, and he put his hand more firmly on Ian’s shoulder.
It’s okay, babe, he sent through their mind link.
They’re just adapting to change. Breathe, hon, in and out, breathe, and know how much I care about you.
You know they love you, really. Just breathe through it.
Ian visibly calmed down, although he was still breathing hard and refused to look at his mom at all. Fortunately, the server came over with the first of the meals, placing them on the table. Everybody started eating, giving time for the tensions to settle down.
Already hungry, Rick was happy to eat, but he refused to take his hand off Ian’s shoulder. He was quite capable of eating pasta one-handed, something that Winston commented on.
“Is it really necessary to keep hanging on to Ian like he is your support animal?” Winston said, and he was clearly looking down his nose at the idea.