Raging On
Chapter 8
Bree followed her Uncle Michael into the unfamiliar restaurant. She was a little unsure about what to expect - from the restaurant, and from her uncle. She frowned as she thought about what they could discuss and what his intentions were in having this lunch with her. She hoped it was all good, but she wasn't sure.
"I have a reservation," Michael said to the lady who met them as they entered. "Novotny."
"Yes, Mr. Novotny, follow me please," she said after she checked off the name.
Bree and Michael followed her to a lovely table right in front of the window. There was a white tablecloth and napkins and fine china and silverware. Michael held Bree's chair for her. She was glad she had decided to wear a dress instead of jeans. She had not expected anything so fancy. The diner would have suited her fine.
The lady handed them menus and left.
Bree looked around the room, noting that most tables were already occupied. "This is a nice place," she said with a smile.
"Yeah, a cut above the diner," Michael said with a chuckle. "I wanted to take you someplace special."
"That's really nice of you. I wasn't sure what to expect when you invited me."
Michael frowned. "I meant what I said on the phone, Bree. I really appreciate that visit from you. It helped me a lot."
"I'm glad it did. And you helped me with my paper."
"Then it was beneficial to both of us."
Their waiter appeared and asked what they would like to drink. "I'll have a Pepsi," Michael said.
"Hot tea for me," Bree stated.
"With milk or lemon?" the waiter enquired.
"Um, milk, please."
The waiter nodded and left.
"You didn't want iced tea?" Michael asked. "It's a pretty hot day."
"My Daddy says that hot tea actually cools you off more in the long run," Bree informed him.
"Oh? I didn't know that."
Bree had opened her menu and was trying to decide what to have. "Is there anything here you'd recommend, Uncle Michael?"
"I've never been here before," Michael admitted. "Hunter told me it was a nice place that he and Nick go to sometimes."
"Oh? Then I guess we're flying blind," Bree said with a little giggle.
"I think everything will be delicious from what he told me."
The waiter returned with their drinks and asked if they would like to hear the lunch specials.
Bree chose the quiche special while Michael wanted to try the lasagna that was on the menu.
"Do you think their lasagna will be as good as your mother's?" Bree asked.
Michael shook his head. "Probably not, but it's worth a try."
"She misses you a lot," Bree blurted out.
"I doubt it," Michael said flatly. "How would you know anyway? She never calls me and I bet she never mentions me when you all get together..." Michael stopped himself from further whining. That was one of the things that he and Hunter had talked about over their lunches - that things were in Michael's control. It was up to him to do something about what bothered him, not just complain about it.
"You could call her," Bree suggested hesitantly. "I know she would really like that."
"You think so?"
Bree heard the touch of wistful hope in his voice. "I'm positive."
"Maybe I will," Michael said softly.
Their lunches arrived and they enjoyed the food for a while.
"This is a delicious quiche," Bree said after she had demolished about half of it.
"The lasagna's not bad either," Michael responded.
"As good as Grandma Debbie's?"
"Just about."
"I wouldn't tell her that, if I was you," Bree advised with a smile.
"You're probably right," Michael conceded. "How did you get to be so smart?"
"I've always been smart," Bree stated with a coy smile.
"Yeah, I guess you have."
"I watch and listen to what people say and do. It's easy to see what the outcome of their words and actions is likely to be."
"Easy, you say?"
"Yep. My daddies are pretty good at it too."
"So, that's where you got it from." Bree nodded. "I guess I haven't been listening for quite a long time," Michael said softly.
"It's never too late to start."
"I hope you're right. I'm trying to make some changes."
"Like working at the Jason Kemp Center."
"Yes, and other things."
"What other things?" Bree asked.
"I ... I'm trying to put other people ahead of myself."
"And how's that going?"
"Not so well. I know I..." Michael hesitated.
"What do you know, Uncle Michael?" Bree could sense that they were on the verge of something important.
"I know that ... I have trouble seeing things from other points of view. I have trouble calling my mother ... because I don't want to hear her criticisms of me ... even if they are true. I always think I'm doing the right thing, even if I'm not."
Bree looked thoughtful. That was a big concession for her uncle to make. She was pleased to hear it. She knew what she wanted to say to him in response, but she wasn't sure how he would take it.
Michael had been studying her. "Go ahead and say it," Michael told her with a chuckle. "I know you want too."
Bree smiled at him. "See, it's not so hard to figure out what people are thinking or feeling."
Michael laughed out loud. "You really are a smart little madam."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Bree giggled.
"I meant it as a compliment. So, what were you going to say?"
"I was going to say that you feel like people have hurt you, and you're having trouble forgiving them ... even when their intentions were for good. My Dada really cares about you, and he was hurt when you wouldn't talk to him, and he couldn't come to lunch with us."
"Brian Kinney was hurt?" Michael scoffed.
"Yes, because the people we really care about are the ones who can hurt us so much."
Michael's eyes widened. He believed her. He had thought that Brian was taking Ben's side in everything. Maybe Brian had been trying to help him all along.
"I guess I've been wrong about so many things," Michael admitted.
"But you can always fix them," Bree said hopefully.
"I'm not so sure."
"I believe in you, Uncle Michael."
Michael smiled. "I'm glad you feel that way. It's nice to know someone still has faith in me." Michael's voice was so soft Bree could barely hear him.
"Lots of people have faith in you, if you let them."
"I'm trying."
"I know, but you need to tell ... them that you're making changes," Bree told him. "They won't know that anything is different unless you say it is."
"But will they believe me?"
"If you really mean it, they will."
"I don't know," Michael said shaking his head.
Bree sighed, trying not to make it too obvious to her uncle. She wanted him to realize that so much of this could be fixed, and only by him. However, he didn't seem ready to take the bull by the horns. She wondered if she was actually getting through to him.
Bree started talking. "You said you are doing better with Hunter." Michael nodded. "You made the first step there. That's what you need to do with everyone else too. It really is all up to you."
"I haven't been willing to accept any responsibility for all this, and now you want me to take all the responsibility?"
Bree nodded. "In for a penny, in for a pound," she quoted an old adage.
Michael laughed again, but she could see that he was thinking about what she had said.
The waiter cleared their dishes and asked if they wanted dessert.
"I've kind of lost my appetite," Michael said.
"Then maybe we should go," Bree said. It looked like maybe she had failed.
"I'll get the check," Michael said as he signaled their waiter. He pulled out his phone. "Do you want me to drop you off somewhere, or would you like to call your fathers to pick you up?"
"I should call," Bree said. "I'm not sure where they are."
"Okay, um, your father is #1 on the speed dial," Michael informed her as he handed her the phone.
"You could call him," Bree suggested.
Michael shook his head. "You better do it."
Bree placed her call and informed Michael that her dads would be there in a little while.
"Would you like some more tea while we're waiting?"
"Okay, if you'll have another Pepsi."
"I could be talked into that," Michael laughed.
It was a good sign that Michael was laughing again. Bree felt a glimmer of hope. Michael signaled the waiter again and got their drinks. They waited mostly in silence for Bree's fathers to pull up outside the restaurant. It seemed like they had each said all there was to be said.
*****
As Brian and Justin pulled up in front of the restaurant, Brian casually gave it the once over then frowned.
“You are such a fucking snob sometimes,” Justin stated the obvious, getting a glare in return. “You do know that the “glare” has never worked on me,” Justin said while making imaginary quote marks around the word, glare.
Brian closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.
“You done?” Justin asked unsympathetically regarding Brian’s queen-like posturing. Brian huffed a bit as he tried in vain to stop the automatic glare from forming. Justin broke out into laughs then leaned over to kiss his long suffering spouse. “I love you, you big goof,” Justin stated in all sincerity, bestowing a loving smile on said goof. “Now get out and go get our daughter. We have to go home and start working out the logistics of this massive barbeque.”
“Is this why you drove?” Brian asked with narrowed eyes, sensing a conspiracy.
“Yes,” Justin announced without compunction. “Now git!”
“Yes sir, Marshal Dillon,” Brian teased as he stepped out of the Jeep to retrieve their daughter. Justin “yee hawed” and laughed.
“The parking lot is around the corner, I’ll meet you there,” Justin called out to Brian who waved his acknowledgement before entering the restaurant.
“Good afternoon, sir, may I seat you?” the maître d' inquired, impressed with the forever stunning Brian Kinney as he entered.
“No thank you, I’m here to pick up my daughter. She had lunch with her uncle,” Brian felt the need to explain. Scanning the patrons, Brian got a “very straight” establishment vibe from the place.
“Of course,” the maître d' said as he led Brian to the main dining room. Brian spied Bree in an instant. He thanked the maître d' then quickly walked over to their table.
“Hi, Dada!”
“Hey, Squirt,” he greeted her with warmth. “Michael,” Brian coolly acknowledged his former best friend. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, Dada,” Bree replied. Before she left the table she gave her uncle a warm hug. “You’re coming to the barbeque,” Bree stated rather than asked. Bree and Michael both glanced up at Brian who gave a small nod.
“Yes, I’ll be there, I promise,” Michael confirmed eliciting Bree’s very sunny smile. “Thank you for having lunch with me and, and, everything,” Michael whispered as he drew the petite young woman back into another hug. When they separated, Brian was sure he saw tears in his friend’s eyes.
“Time to go, Squirt. We’ll see you on the Fourth, Mikey,” Brian said casually like the months of tension never existed. Michael smiled brightly, and so did Brian as he sauntered out of the room with Bree’s hand in his.
“My two favorite people,” Justin called out when he saw Bree and Brian heading his way. He jumped out of the driver’s seat to give Bree a kiss and a hug. “Did you have a nice lunch?”
“Yes, Daddy. And Uncle Michael said he’s coming to the barbeque!”
“I’m so glad,” Justin said giving Bree another hug before she climbed into the back of the Jeep. Justin searched Brian’s eyes. Justin smiled when he saw the glimmer of hope and peace in his lover’s eyes. He hugged Brian then handed over the keys to the Jeep for the ride home.
“Now, he wants me to drive,” Brian grumbled good-naturedly as he climbed into the driver’s seat. “We ready to go home?” Brian called out.
“Ready!” Bree and Justin shouted.
“All buckled?”
“Yup,” Justin and Bree called out.
“Head ’em up and move ’em out,” Brian called out as he started the engine then pulled out of the lot.
They all laughed, chatted and caught up on the latest gossip as families often do.
*****
July 4th 2026
It was literally the crack of dawn on July fourth morning. The birds weren’t awake yet, when Brian’s bedroom windows began to rattle. Brian jumped out of bed and hastily threw on his jeans. He spared a moment to note that Justin slept soundly through the noise, checked on Bree who apparently slept like her daddy then ran barefoot out of the front door.
“What the fuck!” Brian shouted above the noise as he watched two large trucks rumble up the lane followed by an assortment of pickup trucks and large SUVs. The first truck was carrying six huge industrial grills while the second truck appeared to be carrying a dozen tall rectangular shacks.
“Not to worry, lil’ bro,” John said as he stepped up next to Brian and patted his back. “All is well.”
“What is this?” Brian asked as magically a bevy of large burly men jumped out of the trucks to begin unloading.
“Just a little help from our friends,” John quipped with a broad smile. Brian rolled his eyes and prayed his brother wasn’t going to break out into song.
“They helped to build our little corner of the world, so it’s fitting they enjoy the fruits of their labors,” John said. Brian lost all his bluster as he nodded. “They’ll also help with cooking.”
“It’s too early to be waxing poetic,” Brian groused. “What’s with the little shacks?”
“Port-a-potties.”
“Excuse me?”
“Esthetically pleasing outhouses,” John enunciated clearly for his little brother. Brian stared. “Look, even with all the available facilities on the lane, with this many people and the potential for free flowing beer, we want all our guests to be comfortable,” John genteelly explained.
“In other words, no one has to do a pee-pee dance while waiting for a vacant stall,” Brian stated with his usual panache.
“Exactly,” John said, shaking his head and looking skyward for guidance.
The brothers watched the proceedings for a few minutes when Brian grabbed John’s wrist to note the time.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have time for a few more zzz’s or anything else that may come up! Toodles,” Brian said before scampering off back to the cottage and back to bed.
“What did I ever do to deserve Brian Kinney for a brother?” John murmured to himself.
“I heard that,” Brian called out before he entered his front door.
“What’s going on out there?” Justin asked drowsily as Brian stripped then crawled back into bed.
“John invited his construction company; they brought grills and outhouses.”
“Outhouses?”
“Esthetically pleasing outhouses according to John. They look like little cabins, not the usual blue and white port-a-potties you see at construction sites.”
“He would know where to find fancy potties,” Justin teased. Brian began to nibble on Justin’s ear.
“Do we really have to talk about a dozen free standing shitters? I can think of a lot more fun things to talk about ... and do,” Brian purred as he continued to nibble down Justin’s neck. Justin conveniently turned his head to give Brian better access.
“Mmm,” Justin purred back as Brian with the utmost skill made Justin forget just about everything, including outhouses, except for the man in his arms.
Several hours later and at a more respectable time, their first “guest” announced himself.
“Helllooo!”
Brian groaned while Justin giggled. “Why are you always surprised when Emmett is the first one to show up?” Justin felt Brian shrug. “It’s sort of our own little tradition,” Justin explained as he rolled over to give Brian a loving kiss then he reached around to give Brian’s ass a playful slap.
Brian murmured “ow” then pouted.
“Come on, it’s time to take charge of this fiasco,” Justin commanded as he hopped out of bed and swished his way to their shower. It took only a moment for Brian to catch on; the pout vanished as he quickly followed Justin into the shower.
Within half an hour the boys were showered… showered again, shaved, and appropriately clothed for the day. They joined the family already in the kitchen having a lovely breakfast.
“Good morning!” Emmett called out. “So happy you can join us,” Emmett said while waving a spatula in their general direction. He had fed Bree, Patrick, John, and Bobby and was now preparing something hearty for the boys.
“Honeycutt, why have you taken over my kitchen?” Brian growled as he poured himself a mug full of his favorite blend. The kettle was rapidly boiling so Brian made Justin’s tea.
“Oh pshaw!” Emmett exclaimed as he produced two perfectly plated breakfasts then placed them in front of the boys. Brian acknowledged Emmett’s efforts with a royal wave as he dug in with gusto. When he had the feeling of being watched, Brian came up for air.
“What?” he demanded. “I worked up an appetite,” Brian said with a smirk and a twinkle in his eyes.
“It does my heart good to see you eat,” Emmett sniffled then turned to return to the stove. “And don’t call me Honeycutt.”
“I eat!” Brian, the forever slim and trim, protested; his family laughed.
“At least this time your protein is on a plate,” Debbie cackled as she pushed her way through the boys and handed a tray of lasagna to Emm.
“Do you mind?” Brian growled, indicating the kids in the room.
“Oh please, they’ve heard much worse and know when not to listen and when to keep their mouths shut,” Debbie stated as she pointed a sharp red painted nail at said children. The kids nodded, making a locking and throwing away a key motion.
“See, you have very well behaved children,” Debbie declared. She topped off Brian’s mug. “Here, that should make you feel better. Now, is my son coming to this shindig?”
Brian carefully wiped his mouth before answering. “He was invited and promised Bree he’ll join in all the fun.” The family let out cheers of joy while a misty eyed Debbie gave Brian a hug, kiss and a gentle pop to his head. “If you’re through torturing me, may I go back to finishing my breakfast before it gets cold?” Brian asked.
“And before we’re invaded,” John commented as he glanced at his watch.
“Why do we always tell the family one o’clock when we know they’ll always be early?” Bree asked the room.
“That, my dear niece, is the sixty-four thousand dollar question,” John replied. “I guess they all want to help.”
“And we’re very grateful,” Debbie added.
“Yes, we are,” John chimed in as everyone agreed. “My guys and their families will use the B&B as home base. They’ve been setting up the grills. Two will be at the end of our yard, one by the greenhouse and the others at the B&B. The outhouses have been strategically placed,” John explained. The family had rented more tables and chairs for the weekend.
“And everyone is bringing something, a lot of somethings, so no worries about the food,” Emmett stated. “It’s all under control.”
“In other words, lil’ bro, you can enjoy yourself with your family.” John gave Brian a poignant look.
They all knew Brian’s need to take charge, to make sure his guests were well fed and having a good time. They also knew that between all the recent work done at Kinnetik, Justin’s European openings, and the warring Bruckner-Novotney’s, Brian’s stress levels had hit an all time high.
Brian noted the love and concern in the eyes of his immediate family. He nodded then took a deep breath, expelling any feelings of uneasiness he may have harbored. Brian Kinney was loved and protected and he knew it.
“Coffee, tea, or me?” Emmett offered with a wide toothy grin before the atmosphere became too serious. It was a holiday weekend, after all. He held up a coffee carafe and the kettle.
“Sure!” Debbie was the first in line followed closely by John and Bobby.
“I love you,” Justin whispered then pecked Brian’s shoulder.
“I know,” Brian murmured as his hand automatically caressed Justin’s golden locks and drew him in closer for a loving kiss.
“Get a room!” a new voice commanded as its owner sauntered into the kitchen.
“Gusssss!” Bree shouted as she jumped up to start a lovefest. Gus arrived with Ray, Simon, Kenneth, and Jeff in tow.
Brian gazed at Justin’s face. His eyes were filled with love and he was sporting his beautiful sunshine smile. Brian gave Justin a crushing kiss.
“Well, Sunshine, let the games begin,” Brian declared when they came up for air. Brian stood, holding out his hand. Justin took it and held on for dear life.
-TBC-