“This new life I’m living,
even though I’m getting used to it now
But to my own selfishness, I think about you again”
Chapter 2
“Why does it just say what a great mom she was?” Gus asked, digging the toe of his far-too expensive sneaker (I should really stop spoiling him) into the ground.
I glanced at him and shrugged. “What else is there to say?”
“I dunno,” Gus paused and give
me a wicked grin that I take full credit for teaching him.
“Biggest balls in
Now that was funny. I ruffled his hair (it was getting long again, I’d have to get him to cut it) and tried not to laugh. No need to encourage him. “I don’t think Mikey would have wanted that on the tombstone, but he never said I couldn’t get a plaque.”
The grin on Gus’ face faded, and he looked back at the grave we were standing in front of. “I miss her. She always made the best lasagna.”
Shit. I wasn’t going to cry. Not now. I was done with that. Mourning was bullshit. I tried it, and look where it got me. “Death is a part of life.” I lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. “Or some shit like that.”
Gus gave me a sharp look and snatched the cigarette away. For a second I was worried he’d want to smoke it (my bad habits do not need to be his), but he just stubbed it out on the bottom of his shoe and handed it back to me. “At least don’t smoke in front of grandma. She would have hit you.”
I snorted in response and shoved the cigarette butt into my pocket. I wasn’t going to litter around this grave. “Hear that, Deb? The child is going to nag me now that you can’t.”
“I’m not a child, I’m fifteen,” Gus grumbled. He looked back at the grave, and I could tell he was fighting back tears.
“Don’t worry about her. She’s with Vic, wherever he is, and they’re having a fabulous time, I’m sure. Probably rubbing elbows with all those old movie stars she loved so much, and dancing till dawn.” A part of me even believed it, if only a little bit.
“I wish I remembered Uncle Vic better,” Gus said. “He sounds like he was a lot of fun.”
“They both were.” God, now I was about to cry. Why the hell wasn’t I in better control of myself? I’d cried in front of people at the funeral, which was bad enough, but after what happened with Mikey, well… let’s just say I needed to control myself better. Funny, a long time ago that was the easiest thing in the world. A certain someone had changed that, carefully and methodically. Damn him.
“Can we go to the diner after this?” Now he was giving me those big, sad, watery eyes and I could feel my willpower weakening.
“I thought we’d get Thai,” I mumbled. “It’s too cold out for pancakes.”
Gus gave me a look just like the ones Lindsay gave me whenever I said something completely fucking insane. I guess he was learning expressions from her, too. “What’s that supposed to mean? Pancakes are always good.”
“Then you can go. You’re
fifteen, that’s old enough to hang out on
Now he was giving me the look Melanie gives me, when I’ve said something disgusting. “You’re not much of a father sometimes.”
I snorted again, and resisted pulling out another cigarette, because Deb really would have hit me for that. “I never said I would be.” Still, I was secretly glad he wasn’t a huge slut (like I was, according to certain people), because I would have worried.
“It’s okay. Mom told all about grandpa, so-“
I cut him off. “What the fuck did Lindsay say to you?” I was scowling at him now, and wondering how I ever let myself jerk off into the cup 15 years ago. I wondered things like that every few hours whenever Gus was in town visiting. I supposed I’d never really understand it.
He gave me an innocent look and shrugged. “Stuff. She tells me all sorts of stuff about you.”
Bitch. “How nice. Remind me to tell you about her college days.”
Gus’ eyes lit up. “Awesome.”
I frowned and smacked the back of his head, just like Debbie would have. “Finish paying your respects, so we can go get some fucking pancakes.”
“Right.” Gus cleared his throat and crouched down in front of the grave, adjusting the bright yellow and red carnations we’d brought before speaking. “Hey Grandma. I hope you really are having a lot of fun up there. We all miss you a lot. Uncle Ben stopped Uncle Mikey from throwing away all your ugly little statues and stuff, so don’t worry about that.”
God, I hated it when people talked to graves. It was fucking depressing. I tightened my scarf around my neck and shoved my hands deep in my pockets. It was colder than it should have been for December. Or maybe I was just getting cold easier these days.
“Dad stopped dying the gray out of his hair,” Gus said, and I raised an eyebrow at him.
“I never dyed my hair.”
“Yeah, right,” he replied
without turning to look at me. “I think he stopped ‘cause he thinks it makes him
look more sophisticated or something, not that he has very
much of it. It’s not really fair, ‘cause
mom and ima really look like they’re aging, but every guy on
I snorted again. “He’s got as big of a mouth as you, Deb.” Shit. Now I was doing it, too.
Gus put another bouquet of flowers on Vic’s grave, next to Deb’s, and stood up. “Okay. We can go now.”
We turned to go, and I gave Vic’s grave one last long look. ‘Seeya, Vic. I hope she’s not driving you too crazy,’ I thought. I wasn’t going to say anything to them out loud. It was too fucking depressing.
The walk to the car was long. It didn’t need to be, but Gus was walking really slowly, and I didn’t feel like rushing him. It was quiet out here, even if it was fucking freezing, and I was feeling introspective. Vic was gone. Debbie was gone. Mikey wasn’t speaking to me. The three people I’d relied on for an external conscience were gone, and I suddenly remembered all the things they’d said to me. None of them were fooled by my act. I looked like a wealthy, successful businessman, and hell – I was one. The problem was, I was also fucking lonely.
There. I admitted it. Lonely.
Well, at this point, I’d lost everyone that really mattered to me, except for Gus, and he was my kid (poor guy.) You can’t rely on your son, it’s supposed to be the other way around, and I wasn’t going to be like my old man and make him take care of me.
So I was alone. Fine. It had been that way for ten years now, anyway, hadn’t it? Ever since he left.
“Mom doesn’t really tell me much about you,” Gus said. I arched an eyebrow at him. “I try, but she doesn’t give a lot away, so don’t get pissed at her. It’s a pain when you guys fight.”
I smirked. “Sure.”
“She did tell me grandpa was an asshole,” he continued.
I didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to see me as pissed as I get when I talk about Jack.
“But she never tells me about how much drugs you did, or how many guys you boned,” he said, giving me a challenging look.
I shrugged. I wasn’t going to correct his language, that was the munchers’ job.
“But I kinda know that stuff anyway… I did spend a few summers here.”
“Well, at least you’re observant, sonnyboy,” I said. It was probably about time I gave him another ‘use condoms and don’t take drugs from people you don’t trust’ lecture, but he always rolled his eyes when I started, and told me that he wasn’t like me. I was always relieved to hear it.
“And she won’t tell me about that guy.”
I stopped and frowned at him. “What guy?”
“That blond guy in those pictures that she puts away whenever you visit. I’m not supposed to ask you about him.” He was grinning again, but this time he looked genuinely curious.
Shit. I couldn’t even open my mouth. Why the hell was he asking about this now?
“Uncle Mikey has pictures of him, too. He told me it’s none of my business when I asked. And Emmet told me I’d find out eventually, and Ted told me he didn’t want to get fired. No one will tell me about him. He’s the only person in any of the pictures at home that I don’t know about.”
Well, the kid had an eye for a mystery. Good for him. I dug a joint out of my pocket and lit it. Debbie wouldn’t have smacked me for that, and anyway, we were too far from her grave for her opinion to matter.
“So?” Gus was giving me this eager look that made him look cute and innocent and about ten years old again. God, if my son turned out to be a bottom, I’d be so disappointed. It was bad enough that he liked pussy.
“So what?” I finally choked out, exhaling the smoke I’d been holding in my lungs.
“So who is he?!”
I started walking again towards the parking lot, ignoring him. Son or no son, it was none of his goddamn business. And damn Lindsay for not coming up with a good cover story. And damn him for asking.
“Brian,” a voice that sounded oddly familiar and made my stomach clench said from my left.
I stopped and turned quickly, and spotted the blond, gorgeous creature standing only a few yards away from me. He was older. He looked more mature. His hair was long, and his expression was vulnerable. I could feel my cock get hard, and my heart hammered in my chest.
Fuck.
***
Song lyrics are translated lyrics from B’z song “Alone.”