Still the One

Chapter 8

March 2015

It was a rare weekend when all the inhabitants of the conjoined cottages were home.  The two families were in the sun porch working on a very intricate jigsaw puzzle.  It was huge and covered a good portion of the great table.  Bree’s love for jigsaw puzzles became contagious and now when the family were together they often could be seen tackling the difficult ones as a group.  Outside the weather was miserable, but the family was toasty warm in the sun porch and enjoying each other’s company.

Brian decided he wanted coffee so he went to the kitchen to make a fresh pot.  Justin went with him to put on the kettle for tea and to make hot cocoa for the kids.

“Justin, I’ve been giving our wedding plans some thought and I’d like to invite our family.”

“We already have our family attending,” Justin replied as he measured out the cocoa.

“No, I mean our extended family especially the permanent lane residents,” Brian explained as he prepared the coffee mugs.

“No,” Justin said.

“What do you mean, no?”

“No.  Plain and simple.  When you proposed I asked that we’d have a simple ceremony for just us and you agreed.  I don’t want to dress up or worry about food or clean up after hundreds of people.” 

“We don’t have to dress up, I don’t care if we get married naked, that’s not the point.  As for food, the fairy down the lane would be insulted if we didn’t let him take care of the catering including the clean up.  And it wouldn’t be hundreds of people, just our close friends and people like your mom,” Brian explained further.

“No,” Justin stated.

“Can’t we discuss this?  Come to a compromise?”

“No.  There’s nothing to compromise about.  I’m not the one who wants to get married.  As far as I’m concerned we ARE married.  I don’t need a piece of paper to tell me otherwise.  If you want to get married then we have a quiet ceremony, just us and Tom.  That’s it.”

The kettle came to a boil with an ear shattering shriek.  As Justin went to turn off the burner Brian walked out of the kitchen towards their bedroom.  He opened his closet to retrieve a duffle bag.  After throwing in a few essentials, Brian grabbed his laptop, coat, wallet, phone, and keys.  As he passed the kitchen, he saw Bree helping her daddy.  Brian kissed the top of her head then continued toward the front door.

“I’ll be at the loft,” he said just before he opened the door and walked out into the night.  Justin froze in shock unsure of what just happened.

“Daddy?” a little voice said, breaking through Justin’s shock.

“I don’t know, Baby Girl.  I just don’t know,” Justin repeated as he stared at the open door and watched the Jeep drive away. 

Bree ran to the door to scream for her Dada but it was too late.  Brian was gone.  The gate buzzed signaling that he went through and that’s when Bree ran crying back into the sun porch and straight to Patrick.  John and Bobby exchanged looks.  It wasn’t too difficult to figure out what just happened.  John got up to go to Justin but Bobby stopped him.

“I’ll go,” Bobby insisted.  “You’re too close,” Bobby said at John’s nonplussed look.  As the look-a-like half brothers aged their subtle differences were almost negligible.  John still had more upper body strength while Brian retained his strong soccer running legs, but non family members had trouble telling them apart.

John nodded and let his spouse handle the inevitable meltdown.  “Come on, kids, let’s get that cocoa,” John said as he rounded up the kids then took them toward his kitchen. 

*****

“What the fuck just happened?” Justin asked as Bobby poured himself a cup of coffee then sat at the table.

“What do you think happened?” Bobby countered.

“I think my asshole partner just walked out on me,” Justin spat out.

“Is that what you really think?” Bobby asked as he casually took a sip, looking over his mug at his brother-in-law.

Justin took a deep breath, several deep breaths, trying not to panic.  His hand began to shake as he tried to lift the heavy kettle to make himself tea.  He took a few more breaths to steady himself then poured the hot water into his mug.  He allowed the tea to steep for a few minutes before adding milk then he joined Bobby at the table.

“Should I go after him?” Justin asked.

“What do you think that will accomplish?”

“Besides me getting angrier the closer I get to the city, probably not much.”

The silence between them was deafening but Bobby had to let Justin come to all the right decisions on his own.

“Do you think I’m wrong?”

“That’s not for me to judge.”

“Spoken like a true lawyer,” Justin snarked.

“Then I guess I picked the right profession,” Bobby retorted.

“I don’t understand why this means so much to him.  After all this time Brian Kinney wants to get married.  It makes no sense!”

“Does it have to make sense?” Bobby asked.  Justin shrugged, he really didn’t know.  “Let me ask you a few questions.  You don’t have to answer me, I just want you to think about it.  When you’ve come to any conclusions then we can discuss it if you like.  All right?”

Justin nodded.

“When you insisted on following Kinney and Patrick throughout South America, did Brian support you and almost single-handedly foot the bill for the excursion?” 

Justin opened his mouth to speak but Bobby stopped him.  “No talking, just thinking.” 

Justin nodded again. 

“Did Brian support and encourage you when you went back to PIFA to finish your education?”

“Did Brian support your decision to go to New York?”

“Was Brian there for you during your work on the Rage movie?  Did he move mountains to make sure Bree was thoroughly looked after when you both were needed to work on the movie?”

“Was Brian prepared to not attend Molly’s wedding to keep peace in the family?”

“Was Brian there to encourage you for all your special shows and projects?”

“When you were exhausted, did Brian arrange a quiet vacation for you?”

Bobby finished off his coffee then stood up to put his mug into the sink.

“Has Brian ever asked you or anyone of us for that matter for anything in return?”

Bobby washed out his mug and put it in the dish drain to dry then walked back to his side of the conjoined cottages leaving Justin to his thoughts.

*****

“I miss you,” Gus said into his phone.

“I miss you too,” Ray whispered into his phone.  “Have you decided what to do about Max?”

“We think so but we’re still doing research.  It may take a while to get him to back off.”

“I hope that doesn’t mean you’re planning on meeting him alone?”

“No way!  He really creeps me out.  If I go out after work then it’s with Shane or with the other people from the office.  Randi and her partner have been real nice and had me over for dinner a couple of times.  I think they feel sorry for me or something.  But I really like room service especially since my Dad’s paying for it!” 

The boys laughed it off but Ray knew that Gus didn’t want to take the chance of running into Max in a pub.                 

“I’m sorry you have to hide.”

“I’m not really hiding; I’m not a kid, I know how to take care of myself, but it’s not worth the stress.  The car takes me back to the hotel and I have a nice quiet dinner.  Besides it gives me time to catch up on my other work.  Shane’s a slave driver.  I’ve also been doing the research on the agencies Max took over to see if our theory is correct.  Shane thinks there’s another firm that’s close to being bought out so he’s been trying to meet with the CEO but on the low down.  We don’t want Max to become suspicious.”

“Another agency in London?”

“No, Paris,” Gus informed Ray.

“You are not going to Paris without me, Gus Peterson-Marcus-Kinney!”

“Uh oh, the full name, hyphens and all.  And I have no intention of going to Paris, the CEO will be in London in two days.  That’s another reason to sequester myself in the hotel so I can work in peace.”

“Okay, then.  But one day when this is all over, you and I are going to Paris.”

“Sounds like a plan.  I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The boys reluctantly hung up and Gus got back to work.

*****

"Come in, Mrs. Horvath," Mrs. Bain the principal of Bree's school said, ushering Debbie into her office.

"Call me Debbie."

"Okay, Debbie, we have all your paperwork.  Everything seems to be in order, so would you like to meet the young man I mentioned to you?"

"Are you sure I'm the one for this job?" Debbie asked.  Her uncertainty was evident.  "Shouldn't it be someone who is trained to handle these kids?"

"Peter has dealt with all the trained staff.  They got nowhere.  Frankly you're the last hope," Mrs. Bain said with a sigh.

Debbie frowned.  "So, you don't expect me to get anywhere with this ... lad?"

"I didn't say that."

"Well, I really don't know what you expect me to do."

"I had ... a ... hunch when I met you," Mrs. Bain said slowly.  "Sometimes my hunches work."

Debbie smiled.  She had often had hunches of her own.  "Let's go meet this Peter."

"Good luck," Mrs. Bain said as she showed Debbie into a nearby room.  "Peter, this is Mrs. Horvath.  She's going to help you with your reading."

A young man sat hunched over the only table in the small room.  He was moving a pencil back and forth over the page of what looked like a sketchbook.  His eyes never left the page and he refused to look up as Mrs. Bain addressed him.

"I'll leave you to it," Mrs. Bain said to Debbie.  She left the room with a shrug of her shoulders.

Debbie pulled out a chair and sat down at the table.  "I'm Debbie," she said.  There was no response.  "Mrs. Bain seems to think I might be of some help to you.  What do you think?"  Again no response or recognition of her presence.  "I guess you're not too happy about being stuck with me.  Maybe if I tell you a bit about myself, you could tell me about yourself?"  It was asked as a question, but again it elicited no reply.  "Okay, here goes.  I just recently moved out here from Pittsburgh.  It's ... um ... taken a bit of getting used to."  Peter never looked up.  Debbie had no idea if he had heard one word she had said.  "I used to work in a diner in Pittsburgh.  I have one son.  He's married and they have a daughter, my granddaughter.  She's a wonderful girl, not that much older than you."  Obviously Peter didn't care about her life since he showed no reaction to her words.  But she had nothing else to talk about so she soldiered on.  "I live in a little cottage on a private lane.  I fell in love with it the moment I saw it.  It has a thatched roof."

Peter raised his head and looked at her for the first time.

Debbie stopped talking.  What had she said that made him look at her?  She quickly went over in her head what she had just said.  "Are you interested in a thatched roof?" Debbie asked.

Peter went back to sketching like nothing had interrupted him.

Debbie wondered if she could build on this momentary interest.  "My cottage was built by John Anderson.  He's a wonderful architect and he studies cottages of all types.  You might like to meet him."

Peter continued to draw as if he had not heard her words.

"Well, I guess I've about told you everything there is to tell about me," Debbie said with resignation.  She didn't think revealing that her husband was a retired police officer would win her any brownie points with this boy.  "I guess we can just sit here until our time is up."

Debbie watched Peter ignore her.  He was definitely a hard nut to crack.  She thought about how he was in the process of wasting his school time, of wasting his life.  She had seen too many young people like him waste their lives.  There had been quite a few who had passed through the Liberty Diner in the many years that she had worked there.  Some were lost and could not be retrieved.  She thought about Jason Kemp.  What a sad waste of a life!  So young.  And then there were the ones that had somehow managed to pull themselves through the dark times.  She liked to think she had helped one or two.  She wondered if she would be able to help this one.

"I knew a young man about your age.  He was a lot like you, kept everything inside, wouldn't let anyone see that he felt things.  And the odd thing about that is he probably felt things more profoundly than any of the others.  It took me a long time to realize that.  He's a grown man now.  His name is Brian.  He has a career, a family, a wonderful life.  I think you'd like him too.  He's John Anderson's brother."

Debbie watched Peter carefully.  He had stopped drawing some time during her story.  He merely stared at the page in front of him.

"I'd like to see your drawings if you'd show them to me," Debbie said.

Peter didn't reply but Debbie thought he was thinking about it.

Just then the bell rang. 

"I guess our time is up," Debbie said.  "Will you be back tomorrow?  I will."

Peter looked up and Debbie thought she saw a trace of a grin on his face.

"You're thinking that listening to my rambling isn't so fucking bad compared to being in class or being sent to the office," Debbie informed him.  "I like being the fucking first choice," Debbie cackled.

Peter grinned at her.  "You should watch your language, lady," he advised.

"I say what I think and I don't fucking give a damn."

"See you tomorrow ... Debbie."  Peter picked up his sketchbook and left the room.

Debbie slumped in her chair.  That was one of the hardest hours she had ever put in.

*****

"Mrs. Horvath, Mrs. Bain would like to speak to you before you leave," the secretary told Debbie when she went back to the office to check out.

"Oh?  Why?"

"I guess she wants to talk about your meeting with Peter.  She's on the phone at the moment, but she should be done soon."

"You sounded like you know Peter," Debbie observed.

"He's spent a lot of time in this office.  Kicked out of class a lot, doesn't do his work, but ... that doesn't mean I know him."

"Have you talked to him?" Debbie asked.

The secretary chuckled.  "I'm sure he wasn't exactly talkative with you," she said.  "I talked to him, but that doesn't mean that he talked to me."

"You sound like you care."

"I don't like to see any kid messing up his life.  I've seen the braggarts and the colossally rude and the foul mouthed assholes, but this boy is just ... quiet."

"Yeah," Debbie agreed.  "I'm Debbie by the way."

"Marianne," the secretary said extending her hand.  "Are you going to try again tomorrow with Peter."

"I ... I'm not sure," Debbie admitted looking toward Mrs. Bain's office.  She hadn't accomplished anything, and maybe Mrs. Bain would tell her to just give up.  She didn't want to give up, but it seemed kind of hopeless.

"You wouldn't be the first one who didn't come back."

"Other people have tried to help Peter?"

Marianne nodded.  "Yeah, a counsellor, a volunteer, a psychologist.  They all gave up after a few days."

"Then what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

Marianne chuckled.  "I see why Mrs. Bain thought you might get through to Peter.  He needs some straight talking, not some mumbo jumbo and bribes or whatever the fu.. else they tried with him.  Oh, Mrs. Bain is off the phone.  You can go in."

Debbie entered the principal's office and gave her a brief summary of what had happened with Peter.  Mrs. Bain was not surprised that little progress had been made.  All she really wanted to know was if Debbie was willing to come back and keep trying with Peter.

Debbie had been trying to decide just that.  She hesitated, but she finally agreed to come back the next day and for the rest of the week.  She would spend an hour a day with the silent young man.

"I hope this is worth something in the end," Debbie said as she left the principal's office.  She gave a thumbs up to Marianne as she left, indicating that she would be back.  Marianne gave her a warm smile in return.

*****

Debbie was very quiet as she rode home with Carl.  He had picked her up after his snooker game with Frank.  He was blathering on about what a good game he had had.

"So we're going to play three times a day every day," Carl said.  "Is that all right with you?"

"Yeah, sure."

"I knew you weren't listening.  There's no way you would let me play snooker three times a day," Carl scolded.

"You can do whatever you want, Carl," Debbie said.

"Get real!  What are you thinking about?"

"This kid I'm supposed to be helping."

"Is it that bad?"

"He's a tough one."

"So was Brian Kinney and some of the others you've helped over the years.  Can I do anything?" Carl offered.

"That's sweet of you to offer, but I don't think so," Debbie admitted.

"You know I want you to be happy, don't you?" Carl asked.  It had seemed for some time that they weren't getting along as well as they used to.  He hated the distance between them.

"I know, kiddo."

"I love when you call me kiddo.  It's been a long time since I qualified for that terminology."

"You'll always be my sweet lover," Debbie said caressing the side of her husband's face.

"Just the way I want it to be," Carl said with a smile.  "Are you sure I can't help in any way with this kid?"

"You could take me up to the conjoined cottages.  I need to talk to John."

"John?"

"Yeah, I have a hunch."

"Your hunches are pretty accurate."

"I hope you're right about that," Debbie said as Carl drove her up to the cottages at the top of the lane.

Return to Still the One