If It Made Sense, It Wouldn't Be a Mystery, Would It?

Chapter 24

POV: BRIAN

I'm sweating a little by the time we've gotten down, so the cold air feels good as it hits my face as we finally get outside.

"Let's get the fuck away from this place." I gasp.

Justin nods eagerly, his arm around my waist. "Can you stand on your own?"

I just say, "Yes," and clutch at the crutches when he hands them to me. He goes over to the car and opens the door. "C'mon."

I gimp over and collapse in the front seat.

"So, what do you think?" He asks.

I don't know. I need to think. "I want to think on it a little. Let's get over to Mel's work to take Lindsay home."

He slams the door and walks around to get in the driver's seat. Once the door is closed, he leans back hard, puts the keys in the ignition and starts the car. There's a sudden blast of air from the vents.

"Brian?"

I lean down and turn off the air conditioner. "What?"

"Ethan and Hunter are fucking brothers?"

"Well." What do I say? "Yeah. I guess so. Somehow. Gold. Montgomery. Somehow they have different last names."

"Maybe it's… maybe they have different fathers." I flash to Gus and whoeverthefuckitis Smelly Melly is carrying. Then I realize that doesn't make sense. "Well, no- Gary's their father. Maybe Ethan's mother got remarried or something."

"Oh yeah. Duh."

I glance over at Justin, who looks like he's about to throw up. "Justin, are you okay?"

He looks at me. "Yeah. It's just..."

"Weird. I know. Let's get out of here."

"We didn't learn much, really. Or show the guy the letters and shit."

"Later. Do you really want to go the fuck back up there? It's not like he needs to see them, really. He wrote most of them."

"No."

The sooner we get out of here the better. "Let's go then."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

POV: JUSTIN

Jesus H. Christ. That was fucking weirder than SHIT. Seeing Ethan - and Gary, his fucking father… God.

I shudder.

I pull up to the curb beside Mel's work and turn off the engine. I wish we'd just stayed in bed all day instead of going to Ethan/Gary's. I'd kinda hoped that Ethan had moved out and it was just a weird coincidence that Gary lived there.

Well, it was still a coincidence. Just not the one I'd hoped for.

Fuck.

I glance over at Brian. He seems actually okay, given that we just saw my ex-boyfriend. He gives me a quick smile and unbuckles his seatbelt.

"Justin?" I suddenly realize he's already on the curb with the door open, leaning on his crutches. "You coming?"

I must've zoned out there. "Yeah. Sure. Sorry." As I climb out of the car and slam the door, Lindsay comes out of the front door, Gus in tow. She waves at us and bundles down the steps. I shrug and get back in the car.

"Hey!" She says, coming up to the car. Brian opens the back door and Lindsay leans down to strap Gus into the car seat. "Hey, boys, do you mind taking me to the grocery store? I need some stuff for dinner tonight."

"Sure." I say, before Brian can protest. He just shrugs it off and folds with a grunt into the back seat next to Gus.

"What're we having?" He asks as Lindsay climbs into the front seat next to me.

"What do you want?" She asks, leaning around to face him. He's already in 'Gus mode' and is making silly faces at the boy. Gus is laughing like a little banshee. "I was thinking curry chicken, but I know you can be finicky."

I snort. Finicky isn't the half of it, I think to myself.

Brian shoots me a look. "Beggars can't be choosers," he says simply. "Oooh- but how about that Sunshine Chicken you make? With orange juice?"

"Sure." She laughs. "Gus loves that, too."

"Sunnnshine chick!" Gus blurts.

"It's easy too." She adds. I start the car and we're off to the market.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Or: so I think. It seemed Brian has forgotten about going to the diner. Until:

"Oh, hey! Swing by the diner first." He says suddenly.

"Brian, what the fuck? I don't have a paycheck there!" For some reason this annoys me. I just got my paycheck last Friday. He knows that. What the fuck is he doing?

Brian stays quiet. Whatever the fuck. Fine. I make a turn onto Liberty. We haven't been here for... fuck. For weeks now. Just me going to work at the diner. And the last time I was there to work was just a week and a half ago. We're on hiatus, Brian says. At least, that's what he tells himself. Really, it's because we can't afford it. But I don't mind- he hasn't been tricking, after all.

Wow! "Wow, what's that?" I say, pointing.

"Justin! Watch it!"

I glance up and see that I've nearly hit someone's car door as they swung it open into the street.

"Ooop."

I quickly park. I stare over. An art supply store! Right next to the fucking diner!

"Grand opening!" Brian grins from the back.

"Gran' opnin'!" Gus yells, clapping.

"I thought you might want to check it out. Huge discounts right now." He says casually. "…AND- you can network a bit with other local artists. I've heard this place is quite the buzz among your kind."

I smirk again. 'My' kind.

Jesus.

"Has shit that place on Lincoln never stocks." I turn around to face Brian. He's just smiling. Lindsay is too.

"Brian, how'd you know about this place?"

"Friend. Besides, it's right next to the fucking diner, Justin."

"Yeah, but… this is… this is new." I point out.

"Brian, how thoughtful." Lindsay says.

"Fuck thoughtful. Justin is at the loft practically fucking 24/7. I need him doing something other than mothering me." He pauses for effect. "Fuck, I need space."

I ignore that and swing open the door and quickly open Brian's. Lindsay gets Gus. "Can we go in?"

"That's a kind of stupid question, Justin." Brian says, simply. He groans as he stands up, pulling his crutches with him. "Obviously we can go in."

It is a stupid question, but I'm suddenly kind of giddy. The mess of the last few days temporarily fades and I skip over to the front door. 'GRAND OPENING' it says on the window. Hee heeeee! We go in and are grateful for the sudden blast of warm air.

It smells of charcoal, paints, canvas, paper, and… hm. And meatloaf. The diner fan must blow towards one of the intake vents, I think absently to myself. All in all, I'm in heaven.

Brian goes over to the counter. A young man sits there, smiling. "Hi, Brian!"

"Hey." Brian says pleasantly. I walk up next to Brian. Something about how this guy is looking at him makes me uncomfortable. Who is this guy? Someone from the backroom?

"Zach, this is Justin. Justin, Zach." Zach leans over the counter and shakes my hand. "Zach used to intern at Vanguard, too." Brian says. "Anyway, Justin, Zach sent me some flyers about the grand opening. I thought you might want to check it out."

Oh.

Oh! "This place is great! Do you go to PIFA?"

"No, I took the semester off. I'm working to get some money together, then I'm going back."

"I'm thinking of applying to Mandell. But I have to get some money together too."

Brian looks away. I wince inwardly. I wish I hadn't said that. I know he feels badly that he can't afford to send me to school. At least not at the moment. I reach over and put my arm around him as a non-verbal apology. He just shifts a little, moving his hurt leg out a bit.

Zach nods, watching the little exchange curiously. Okay. Yeah. It's obvious: He has the hots for Brian. But, I glance over and it's apparent that Brian's oblivious. Thankfully.

Brian looks bored, actually, and scratches his head. He backs away to let us talk for a little. "Linds, let's go next door and get something to eat."

I personally am starving. "Brian, could you get me a burger?"

"Sure. Got cash?" He smirks. I roll my eyes and reach for my pocket. He waves me off, letting me know he wasn't in earnest. "Zach?"

Zach shakes his head. "No, thanks. Good to see you again, Bri." 'Bri?'

Brian and Lindsay head for the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

POV: BRIAN

Lindsay and I go next door and get a booth.

"That was nice of you, Brian. Thinking of Justin like that." Lindsay says, fussing with Gus -who has grabbed the napkin dispenser and is quickly 'dispensing' wads upon wads of napkins.

"Like I said. I need space."

She just gives me a disbelieving look. Bitch. "So, what about you?" She says, eyeing me pointedly.

"I'm debating filing for bankruptcy." I say flatly.

"Brian, for God's sake- you are not!"

In all honesty, I've considered it. But I bite my tongue. And await the inevitable:

"Why aren't you out looking for a job?"

I roll my eyes.

Jesus, people. Leave me the fuck alone!

But, actually, there is an opening I've heard about. In New York City. On Broadway. But I'm not sure I want to talk about that yet. "I've been nosing around." I say simply.

Debbie walks up suddenly. How I didn't notice her approach, I don't know- she's in rare form today. 'FUCK OFF!' is emblazoned across her chest in bright red letters. Nice. Very nice.

"Hey!" She says, way too cheerfully for my mood at the moment. I want to quote her shirt to her, but I keep my mouth shut. For some reason, all the stuff Justin was saying at the loft this morning is nagging at me. I should be thinking about what ol' Fairy Gary said, but I'm not, really. Just what Justin said. I try to ignore it. Deb glances at me. "Jesus, Brian. You look like sh- er, you look like crap." She corrects, noting Gus. Now I really want to quote her shirt to her. Not waiting for a response, her attention immediately shifts away from me. "Hi, Gussy! How's my punken?" She reaches across my nose to pinch his cheek. I have to lean back so she doesn't hit me in the face.

"Jesus, Deb! Watch it!"

She ignores me. "God, Lindsay, he is getting bigger every time I see him!"

"You just saw him a few days ago," I remind her.

She shoots me a look. "Well, with you for a father, I'm thinking he'll be growing like a weed for quite awhile, assho-Brian..."

Suddenly, she crosses her arms and leans back to look at me, critically. "How you doin', kiddo?" She asks, more softly.

"I'll be alright." I say dismissively. God, I'm sick of being treated like a fucking invalid. "Mikey finally called you, I assume?"

She smiles. "Yeah. Finally. The little shi-, er, the stinker." God, it's like she has Tourette's syndrome or something. "He's gone to see Ben and Hunter today. Hunter's doing better, they said. Not awake yet, but all his vitals or whatever are stable and strong."

I nod. That's good. I hesitate at first, but plow forward: "Is Mikey going to be in trouble with the law? Have you talked with Horvath?"

Deb doesn't skip a beat, obviously on the same wavelength. "Carl doesn't know if he will or won't. With Hunter's mother dead," she quickly makes the sign of the cross. I roll my eyes. For all her bullshitting and swearing, she's as pious as they come. Although, I prefer her brand of piety over my mother's. I shudder involuntarily, turning my attention back to what she's saying. "…it's uncertain if Michael'll face charges. No one to press any, really. Unless the State does, but he doesn't think... well, he doesn't know." She gets a worried look.

"Well, at least he's alright." Lindsay says quickly. I nod.

"Did you find Hunter's Dad?" Deb asks suddenly.

"Well." Do I want to get into this now? No. "Yes. Didn't actually learn a whole lot. Oh, but this is rich: Ethan lives with Hunter's dad." Debbie and Lindsay both gasp at that. "And: the guy is Ethan's dad, too." I chuckle. "You should have seen the expression on Ethan's face when he heard about Hunter. His long lost brother. I'm surprised he didn't slip on his own drool."

Lindsay and Deb are quiet a few moments, letting this bit of news sink in. "Wow. Fuck." Debbie finally says, all thoughts of censoring herself gone now, I suppose. "That… that kid - that asshole- is part of our family?"

I shudder at her words. Fuck that! Luckily Ethan's been on Debbie's shit list ever since 'the family' found out why he and Justin had broken up- so instead of inviting him right now to Sunday lunch, she's bitching. "Doesn't have to be." Is all I say. "Gary's no picnic, either, you know."

"Who's Gary?"

"His -his and Hunter's dad."

"Gran'm' Debbeeeee!" Gus giggles, breaking the weirdness of the moment, holding out a fistful of napkins like he's presenting her a gift. She shakes her head and switches her focus to Gus.

She smiles big. "Gussy! Thank you!" She exclaims, bowing regally and taking the napkins like she's accepting fucking gold, frankincense and myrrh. "Sweetie, thank you so much!"

"Deb. Can we order?" My head's beginning to ache and my mood's going to shit. This was a lousy idea. Who's was it, anyway? Fuck. I suddenly just want to go home.

She gives Gus a big grin and then frowns at me briefly. "You're his father? This bundle of sweetness and joy's father?" She smirks. Bitch. But she's actually being good-natured, so I don't say anything. Then she pulls out her notepad and poises the tip of her pencil on the page: "Fine, what'll it be?"

I glance at Lindsay. "Can we make it to go?" I ask. She shrugs, grabbing some of the napkins Gus has dropped on the bench. "Burger and fries for Justin, who's next door-"

"I was wondering where Sunshine was. You two have been virtually inseparable since before the election." I roll my eyes. Then a look of recognition flashes across her face. "Oh my God! Yes! I can't believe I forgot- that art supply place is fantastic- and they have fu- incredible discounts for their grand opening!" She gushes enthusiastically.

"Yeah. Okay. He's all over it. Now can we order?"

"Fucker…" She mutters at me, then quickly covers her mouth looking contritely at Lindsay.

"'S'okay Deb," she laughs lightly. "With this around," she gestures at me. Jesus, the womenfolk are bitchy today. "…There's no way to keep him from hearing every word in the book." Debbie grins, then looks at me with a slight scowl. Sigh.

"Anyway," I continue, "I'll have the turkey sandwich, no-"

"No mayo, yeah, yeah." She interrupts. "On whole wheat. Toasted. Yadda yadda. You get the same thing every fuc- every time, Brian. You're as bad as Teddy."

Now THAT was NOT a nice thing to say and I shoot her a mean look.

She ignores me completely, turning her attention to Lindsay and Gus. "Lindsay?"

"I'll have the same, but with mayo. Oh, and tomatoes, onions, lettuce- oh, and put some mustard packets in the bag, would you? And a pickle. Um, and fries, too. Gus likes fries."

I roll my eyes. Gus will eat maybe 3 fries. They're for Lindsay. Lindsay's orders are always complicated. Fucking high maintenance, that woman.

"And Gussy?"

"I'll just share my order with Gus. He doesn't eat much." Lindsay says quickly. Yeah, right. "Like father like son, I guess." She adds. I wince slightly. I hate that expression.

Deb is staring at her. "Gus likes all those onions and shit?" She asks, incredulously.

Ha! Busted! I think.

Linds always does this. It always ends up with me giving Gus half of my sandwich- partly because Lindsay inhales hers, and partly because he doesn't like all those onions and shit. It's like Linds wants people to think she doesn't eat much. But she eats like a fucking horse. I mean, good lord- she just came from lunch with Smelly Melly.

I clear my throat. "Lindsay means that I'll be sharing with Gus." I correct.

"Oh." Debbie says simply, a little puzzled. "Okay, coming right up. Any drinks?"

Drinks.

"Beam. Straight. A double. To Go."

Deb just smirks at me. "Yeah. Right." She tosses a look at Lindsay who shoots me a disapproving frown. Gus, however, looks at me as if he wouldn't mind the same. Probably not good. Still and all, I bite back a chuckle. He has no idea what 'Beam' is, of course. "No fuc- no whiskey, Brian." She refocuses on Lindsay. "Any sodas or milk, hun?" She clarifies.

Oh well.

"No thanks, Debbie." Lindsay says. "We'll get something at home."

I'm jarred nearly off balance when Deb suddenly shrieks, "SUNSHINE!" - I hear the door clang behind me. I guess Justin just walked in. Brilliant deduction.

"Hi, Debbie." He says, finding himself engulfed in a giant hug.

"How you doin', Sunshine?" She chortles, releasing him. "Jesus, your hair's getting too long, you know that?" She adds, flicking a blond lock with a garish, red acrylic nail. "Pretty soon you'll need barrettes."

I snort at that image and Justin kind of frowns, but shrugs it off. He's shrugged off quite a few remarks about his looks today so far… I just hope I'm not the one there when the lid finally blows. Pretty sure I will be, though. Oh well.

"Uh huh." Is all he says. But I can guarantee you that he just bit back a snide retort having something to do with her hair. But he tries to be polite with her for the most part. "Maybe next week, I'll get it cut."

Uh huh.

"He's going for the Bohemian artiste look." I contribute helpfully.

"Asshole." He decidedly does not try to be polite with me, I've noticed. "Guess what?" He slides into the booth next to me, letting the topic go. "Brian, that Zach guy is a really great painter! He showed me some of his stuff. I'll betcha he makes it big!"

"How nice for him." Who cares? "Deb? Our order?" I remind her. I want to get out of here.

"Comin' right up! And Sunshine, that place is perfect for you! They have great deals, especially right now! You and that little bubble butt of yours can take your tips and go right next door after your shifts!" She bustles off into the kitchen to give the cook our order.

"We ordered to go." I say to Justin, changing the subject entirely. "Lindsay, do you mind if you just drop us off at the loft? Or, at least me? Go shopping without me? I'm getting... I have something of a headache." I raise my fingers to rub my temple absently, trying to massage some relief into my fucking head. For whatever reason, I glance over at my son, who's fallen asleep. With a smile on his face. God, how did I have such a fucking happy kid? I find myself wondering if I was ever a happy kid. I let out an ironic laugh to myself. Decidedly: NO.

And what brought on this bizarre mood I'm in today, anyway? I've been in one all day. I notice Justin is looking at me hard for some reason. I try to ignore him.

"Sure." She answers. "Then I'll swing by and pick you up for dinner at around 6? Oh! Remind me to ask Debbie to come when she comes back. So," she turns her eyes to Justin. "What kind of paintings does the boy do?"

Justin looks away from me then and faces Lindsay. "Lots of landscapes, portraits. He has a great sense of composition." Justin says. "He says he wants me to sit for him!"

Uh oh. Let's keep this little friendship you're developing on a professional level, Sunshine.

"He wants you to, too, Brian-" he adds, "a portrait of us together."

Oh.

That's better. Except:

"That's so cute!" Lindsay says, shrilly. Ugh.

"That's too 'couple-y', Justin. Besides, I hate sitting still for hours on end and getting yelled at every time I have to scratch my nose or something." Justin looks a little sheepish at my mention of that. He knows, of course, that I'm referring the ONE time I actually agreed to sit for him. Biggest mistake of my life, I swear. He got so focused on the drawing that if I shifted a little or had an itch, he bit my fucking head off. He was a fucking tyrant. Needless to say, I cut that modeling session short.

"But Brian, it'd be cool- we don't have many pictures of us together."

"That's fucking bull and you know it. Every time we go to the munchers', they take so many goddamned photos of us with Gus I'm surprised I haven't gone blind from all the flashbulbs and they haven't gone broke from getting film developed!" It's true. They're relentless. Linds is, anyway. Mel will take a shot of Gus and Justin once in awhile, but she's not as into it. Plus, we all know her high opinion of me, and my being involved in my own fucking son's life- the last thing she wants to do is record it for posterity. Christ. "'Couple pictures' are decidedly for breeders and lezzies." I add.

Lindsay scoffs and Justin opens his mouth no doubt to whine some more but just then Debbie comes up with two bags, dropping one in front of me and Justin, the other in front of Lindsay. Thank you, Debbie! But I know I haven't heard the end of it. Gawd. A portrait. I snort. There must be a full-assed moon shining over Liberty Avenue lately or something.

I reach into the bag and take out the Styrofoam box with my sandwich in it. Flicking it open, I take a half and hand it to Lindsay. "Here. Since we aren't going to your house. For Gus." Obviously. Lindsay looks a little embarrassed, but accepts the half sandwich, putting it into the box with hers.

"Didn't you just have lunch with Mel?" Justin asks, utterly serious and completely innocent. I burst out laughing and he looks at me confused. Her face reddens. Either they had- yuck!- sex instead, or she's doing what she normally does- Hoover food.

"Yes. But we… we got to… talking."

Justin nods. I look over at him, still laughing. Sometimes I worry about the kid. He can be as gullible as they come. I'll fill him in later. So, we're good to go. "Okay, good. Thanks, Deb- hey, let me know if you hear any news from Michael."

She looks at me, a brief expression of worry clouding her features. "I will, honey. And you do the same. And take care of yourself- you look like shit on a stick!" I ignore her last comment. But 'honey'. She rarely calls me anything but 'asshole'. She must be worried. But, she puts on her game face and when we get up, she slaps Justin's ass as we're heading to the door. He just skips a step and yelps a short protest.

Then I remember. "Linds. Deb. Dinner." I say before she pushes open the front door.

"Oh, right!" She says, turning, "Deb!" She goes back to tell Debbie about tonight and I glance at Justin. He's got a serious expression on his face all of a sudden, and is staring at a coffee cup on the table in front of us. I decide not to say anything. I know that expression. And I don't want to deal with it. Right now, anyway.

Let's get the fuck out of here.

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