Broken Toys

Chapter 26

"So what's it like?" Billy whispered, smiling up at Casey. The smaller boy was lying beside him, propped up on one elbow, idly playing with Billy's hair. They were both sweaty and relaxed, but not quite ready to sleep. Zeke was curled up on his side, back pressed close to Casey and snoring softly.

"The house?" Casey whispered back. "I don't know," he admitted when Billy nodded. "I was never there. My... father and my mother's family never got along. When my grandmother died last year, he refused to go to the funeral."

"So why'd your mom give it to you? No offense, Casey, but it seems kind of strange after everything that happened."

"I know," Casey sighed. "She said that dad wanted her to sell it but that she wanted to keep it, maybe fix it up and rent it or something. Gram left it to her - mom's an only child - so dad's name was never on any of the paperwork."

Billy reached up and smoothed Casey's hair, then traced a line down the side of his face to Casey's jaw. He smiled when Casey relaxed into the touch, some of the tension that was building in his body easing again.

"I'm okay, Billy," Casey said, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than his friend. "She said she signed the papers for me, because she thought I'd be better off with a clean start."

"She does love you, Casey."

"I know," with another sigh Casey settled down, his head on Billy's shoulder. Immediately the older boy wrapped an arm around Casey and drew him close. Beside them, Zeke mumbled something in his sleep and shifted.

"Maybe we should try and get some sleep," Billy suggested. "Tomorrow's going to be a long day."

"Yeah," Casey said quietly and Billy kissed him lightly before shifting, turning him so Casey was closer to Zeke.

*****

"Coffee?" Casey offered as Zeke stumbled into the kitchen, still bleary from sleep.

Zeke mumbled something and accepted the mug, just holding it and breathing in the steam. After a long minute he took a sip and made a face.

"Hope it's not too strong," Casey said, trying not to smile. He took a drink of his soda to hide his amusement.

"What are you doing?" Zeke asked when his brain was awake enough to remember words. There were books and papers scattered all over the table in front of Casey.

"Homework."

"I thought you said you were done?"

"I am. This is yours."

"Case..."

"Zeke, look, you've got lots of chances to impress everybody with your brain but this weekend you need some help. There's just no way you can pack and drive all the way back to school and get your homework done for tomorrow morning." Casey crossed his arms and looked like he was preparing for a long battle. Zeke just didn't have the energy.

"Okay, just this once." He leaned close and smiled. "And thank you, I accept, but only on one condition."

Casey frowned. "What?"

"You learn how to make coffee. This stuff tastes like sludge." Zeke smiled and took another sip.

"But it's hot," Casey countered, returning the smile.

"I notice you're not drinking it."

"You kidding? I can't drink that, it tastes like sludge."

Billy woke to the sound of shared laughter.

*****

"That everything?" Billy asked as Zeke closed the trunk of his car.

"It's enough to get me through the next couple of months," Zeke assured him.

"So you decided not to leave here for good?" Billy asked carefully.

"Yeah, I guess so. Not quite ready to give up on the place yet. Besides, we'll have to make at least one more trip to get Casey's stuff."

The envelope Casey's mother had given him yesterday contained a key to a storage unit. She had packed up all of Casey's belongings and gotten them out of the house when Casey's father had wanted to throw them away.

Casey insisted that he didn't need anything just yet, but Zeke and Billy thought it was really that Casey didn't want to see everything he owned stuffed into a storage shed. It was hard enough trying to comprehend that he could never return to the place he once called home.

Between them, they'd decided that they would go visit Casey's house next weekend to see what it was like, and then in a few weeks they would get Casey's belongings from storage and move them to the house.

Casey had warned them that his mother said the house needed work. It was clear from the picture that the place was old, but there was nothing obviously wrong; no sagging porch, no holes in the roof.

Casey already had the key and a copy of the deed, but the house wouldn't officially belong to him until he was 18. His mother's lawyer had taken the necessary legal steps to protect the property until Casey was old enough to legally sign the transfer. And, Casey's mother had sold some of her mother's jewelry to create a fund that would cover property taxes on the house for several years.

"You ready?" Zeke called to Casey.

"Just about," Casey yelled back, setting the photo album back in its box and closing it. He tucked it under one arm, bracing it with the crutch and headed to the car.

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