Homecoming

*39*

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Galloping Grandmothers, Rage

Justin

After the boat ride (which is fantastic – I can't wait till Brian and I get our certificates and we can come out any time we want to) we head over to my Mom's. She wants to spend some time with Gus before Monday so he'll be okay with staying with her after school.

He met her at Brian's birthday party, but that was just kind of in passing. Today, when she opens the door, Gus goes a little shy and kind of hides behind Brian's legs. Brian squats down so he's level with him, takes Gus' hand and says, "Gus, this is your Grandma Jenn."

Then he snakes a look up at Mom which is pure fucking Kinney, and I know that intro was meant to be payback for some of the shit she's said about him.

Gus doesn't pick up on any of that stuff, or course. He just zeroes in on the 'grandma'.

"My Grandma?" he asks, like he can hardly believe it.

"Sure, Sonnyboy," Brian responds, standing up. "Justin is your Dus, and Jenn is Justin's Mom, so she's your grandma."

Gus beams up at her and then holds up his arms for a hug.

She picks him up and kisses him and he gives her one of his best through-the-eyelashes looks and says, "Are you really my grandma?"

"Yes, sweetheart," she says, looking all gooey-eyed, like she used to look when I brought her home some lame thing I'd made for her at school.

"Just mine?" Gus wants to know.

Mom looks puzzled, but says, "Yes, honey, just yours."

"Not JR's?" he keeps on.

She smiles at him and hugs him again. "No, Gus. Not JR's. Just yours."

He grins. His version of the shit-eating Kinney grin. "Good," he says. "JR's got lots of grandmas."

Well, I guess JR's got Deb for a grandma, and I suppose that seems like lots. In fact, I'm pretty damned sure that Deb has been lobbying for super-gran of the century, lavishing attention and cuddles and treats on JR. Maybe not so much on Gus. No wonder Gus wants his own Grandma all to himself.

Just then he wriggles, so Mom puts him down and we head for the kitchen where there are fresh-baked cookies and milk for Gus and coffee for us.

Brian kind of zones out while I fill Mom in on what's been happening – at least the stuff I can talk about in front of Gus. But that's a lot really, with the move into the house and everything.

Then Mom says, "Would you like to see your room, Gus?"

To everyone's surprise Gus kind of freaks. He gets really red in the face and starts climbing onto Brian's knee. Once he's there he kind of burrows into him and says, "I have a room. My room's at my Daddy's house. With Daddy and with my Dus."

He sounds like he's about to cry.

But Mom's really smart and she says quickly, "Well, yes, of course it is. But I thought you might like to have a playroom here for when you come visit me after school."

Gus looks dubious, but Brian says, "It's okay, Sonnyboy. You're going to be living with me and Dus for a while. But Grandma Jenn is going to have you visit some days after school while Dus and your old man are at work."

"Not to stay?" he says, his little face all tight and anxious.

Brian ruffles his hair, and Gus leans into him, so Brian kind of wraps him right up in his arms and rocks him a little.

"No, Sonnyboy, not to stay."

"Just to play," Gus says, and then suddenly he giggles. "I made a rhyme, Daddy."

"So you did," Mom says. "You must be very smart to do that. Do you want to see your playroom now?"

So we go upstairs and into the room I'd stayed in when I first got out of hospital.

My memory of that room is of it being full of heavy red-black clouds of anger and resentment and frustration and fear; they had stifled and choked me so that I could hardly breathe.

But all those memories have been stripped out of the room.

The small bed is still there, but it's been pushed back against the wall and covered with a deep blue blanket and some vividly colored cushions.

The carpet has been covered with a bright rug and there are yellow drapes with blue dragons on the windows.

There's a storage unit with shelves on one side and two drawers on the other which has been painted bright green, and a small table and two chairs in red and blue. There's also a yellow plastic A-frame that's got a blackboard on one side and an easel on the other, with sheets of paper already in place.

Sitting on top of the storage unit, held upright by cheeky cat and dog bookends, are some kids books; there are some board games and toy cars on the shelves, and when Gus runs over and opens the drawers he finds some blocks and a toy tool set and some paints and crayons and pencils.

I can hardly believe she's done this, just for Gus.

And Gus fucking loves it.

I sneak a look at Brian, almost afraid that he'll see all this as Mom kind of stealing his thunder, and I get a real shock.

He's looking almost like he wants to cry. He doesn't say anything at first, just rolls his tongue into his cheek and kind of struggles to hide his emotions, like usual. But then he reaches out one hand and grips Mom's shoulder hard. She looks up at him and then she smiles; one of Mom's best smiles, and nods at him. He gives a kind of jerky nod in response, and then says, "Well, Sonnyboy, I think there's something you need to say to your Grandma."

Gus is really quick and he runs over to Mom and wraps his arms around her as well as he can and says, "Thank you, Grandma Jenn."

She smiles down at him and tells him that he's very welcome.

We're all a little bit unsure about what to do next. Well, except for Gus.

He knows exactly what he wants to do. He starts pulling the cars out of the shelves, and gets a little bit antsy when Brian stops him and tells him to put them back.

Gus looks a bit mulish; there's the definite threat of a Kinney queen out in his scowl and jutting bottom lip, and I know Mom is itching to intervene, but she doesn't, she lets Brian handle it; and he does. Pretty well, too.

"Sorry, Sonnyboy," he tells Gus. "All this will be waiting for you on Monday after school. But right now we need to get home."

Gus is still pouting, but Brian goes on, "We've still got lots to do to get the house ready tomorrow, and I'm relying on you to help."

It's that Kinney thing again. When Brian says something like that, the person he's said it to feels like a million feet tall.

Gus stands up as tall as he can stretch then and says, "I'm ready Daddy. I'm a real good helper."

"Yes, you are," I tell him. "We couldn't do it without you."

So without any more fuss, Brian and Gus say their goodbyes and head for the car. I stay behind long enough to give Mom a big hug. "Thanks, Mom," I tell her. "It means a lot – to all of us."

She just smiles again, and kisses my cheek. "You and Brian have made me a Grandma," she says. "That's a gift I never thought I'd have. I have every intention of making the most of it."

I hug her again and then head out to join my men.

Today has been really full on, and the next couple of days are probably going to be even worse, but really … it's all been amazing.

I think I'm happier than I've ever been in my life; and I suspect that Brian feels the same way.

This is a great foundation for us to build on.

*****

 

Brian

The whole day has been total fucking chaos and the weekend's likely to be even fucking worse; and to add injury to insult we've only managed a couple of quick fucks in the shower.

At least we've got a plan for the weekend and for Monday. That's going to be the big one. I'll drop Gus at school and Jenn will pick him up. We spent some time with her tonight and Gus seemed to get along okay with her. He likes having a grandma of his own, and he fucking loves the room she's set up for him. I still can't fucking believe she did that. It's…

It made me feel like he really has got a grandma who gives a shit about him. Funny, the best thing I've ever done for my son was fuck the brains out of a little blond twink the night he was born.

With Gus all taken care of, Justin, thank God, is finally going to be able to put in some serious time in his studio.

I'll pick Gus up from Jenn's at around six, which will give me time to get him home and fed and into bed by 7.30. So Sunshine doesn't have to sweat it if the inspiration is flowing and he wants to work all fucking night. I can do some work from home once Gus is in bed, at least to catch up on all the shit that's been going on at Kinnetik while I've been turning into Mary Fucking Poppins.

Thinking about Justin working in that idiotic breeder apartment that he's using as a studio reminds me that I need to talk to Stephane about starting work on the loft as soon as he finishes at the house. There won't be a lot of structural changes here, but we need a kick ass lighting design if we're going to use it to showcase Justin's work properly. Plus the color scheme will probably need to be revamped – some of it will need to be dark to show off the paintings and shit, and the area around the windows that he'll be using as his work space will need something that will bring in and reflect all the available light. The little twat will have his own ideas about that, but Stephane knows his shit and between them they can work out what each space needs.

I guess it will be fucking weird leaving the loft. It's been my haven and my sanctuary for so long; more than that, it's been the tangible symbol of my success, of the fact that I fucking got out, got away, left all the bullshit domestic drama crap behind, along with the abuse and neglect and all the fucking pain of my fucked up childhood.

But you know what?

The new place is going to be a symbol of an even bigger success; not just career success – any asshole with half a brain and enough ambition to put in the hard yards can achieve career success; no, this new place is going to be about my success as a man.

The new place is going to make a statement to all the assholes who fucking thought they knew me, knew what I want, who thought they knew my limitations and fucking dared to pity me because I was never going to be capable of having any sort of life aside from sucking and fucking my way through every back room on the east coast, all of the critics who were looking forward to feeling so smugly superior as I degenerated into a pathetic over-the-hill party boy; to all those fuckers our new home is going to scream at them how fucking wrong they were. Because thanks to my Sonnyboy and the little blond twat they all love to patronize (as if he's not more of a fucking man, more mature and adult and talented and capable than they are ever going to be), I'm going to fucking have it all. That's what this new house is going to fucking shout from every single steel beam, solar panel and glass fucking brick in the place.

 

*****
 

Justin

We grab some food on the way home and as soon as we finish it, Gus pretty much crashes. We get him into bed and then Brian lures me into the shower for some big boy time.

I'm kind of reluctant to fuck with Gus in the loft. I really don't want him waking up and wondering what all the moaning and groaning is about, never mind anything else, but Brian persuades me that it should be okay in the shower. With the door shut and the water running, hopefully Gus won't hear anything, but still I try to keep pretty quiet. This is another good reason, of course, for rushing the move into the house.

After the shower we just collapse onto the futon. It's Friday night, and I guess it's still early, but it's been a really, really long day and the weekend is going to be chaotic as hell as well. I fall asleep pretty much straight away, and given that every time I drift into semi-consciousness during the night Brian is draped around or over me, I'm guessing he pretty much does the same.

We wake up fairly early in the morning, but Gus is already awake. He wants to shower with us, so there's no opportunity to do anything but wash this morning.

Then we get breakfast. Gus has cereal and I make some toast. Brian consents to have one slice of whole wheat toast with avocado, no other spread. Then he piles his usual five spoons of sugar into his coffee. I will never get how he comes up with his diet rules. Never.

We're working out our plan for the day – Brian is going to make a quick trip to the house to make sure Stephane knows where all our stuff is to go once it's delivered (and put the fear of God into the workmen, I suspect). I'm going to take Gus to the park for a little while so he can run off some of his energy. Then we're all going to meet up and do some "basics" shopping – toothpaste and soap, and cleaning stuff and a bucket and broom – that kind of shit.

We'll have some lunch and then do some shopping for Gus. Brian wants to get him his own little laptop – mainly so he won't be tempted to use ours and stumble across stuff that might scar him for life. I suggest getting him an iPad, but Brian wants something where he actually has to read things on the screen, not just look at the icons. He says it's about encouraging him to improve his reading skills, not dumb things down so much he doesn't have to read anything to be able to operate it.

He also wants to encourage him to learn to use a proper keyboard. Who knows what he'll need by the time he's in high school, they'll probably be using all voice activated shit by then … but right now speed on a keyboard is a really useful skill to have for doing essays and stuff, so I can understand where Brian's coming from. Gus will never learn to use a keyboard properly if all he's used to is the dinky little touch pads on the iPad.

He's going to need new clothes too. I swear he's grown even in the couple of weeks he's been back in Pittsburgh. And Brian wants to make sure that he's got everything he needs for school on Monday. I can see we're going to have arguments about whether he really needs designer trainers and that sort of shit, but it'll be just like the arguments we have over my clothes and I always win those.

We're just about ready to head out when someone knocks at the door.

Brian drags it open with an exasperated growl, and then there's a sort of pause. Finally, I hear him say in a really weird voice, "What the fuck do you want?"

I move towards him and peer round his shoulder to see the last person either of us expects, or wants, to see.

No. It isn't Melanie.

It's Joan Kinney.
 

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