frogs_of_war (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
frogs_of_war) wrote2013-11-08 11:03 am
frogs_of_war) wrote2013-11-08 11:03 am
Entry tags:
A Balance of Harmonies: Unwelcome visitor
Does anyone know the etiquette for posting something original to AO3? I just got an account, but all the FAQ have to do with fanfics. My daughter says there’s original stuff on there, but the tag Original Work seems to be used with tags for series as often as not and Original Characters seems to be when people are added to an established story.
I’d like to get my stuff to a slightly wider audience, especially now that FP doesn’t do alerts (or at least I haven’t got once since August), but I’d like to at least pretend I know what I’m doing.
Title: Unwelcome Visitor
Series: A Balance of Harmonies (Three)
Status: Chapter one hundred thirty-nine of a few more
Genre: m/m romance, drama, city life, businessmen
Rating: R
Content: painting, doorbell, demands, introduction, art, rushing, coffee, plans, declarations, kisses, interruption, family, the past
Length: about 3,200 words
Summary: Peregrine comes face to face with the woman who ruined his life. Emil can get on with anyone.
Master list
Peregrine surveyed the door painting on the easel. He’d told Mike that nothing more would be done for the showing, but this painting only needed the last inspiration. If he finished it by Tuesday, he’d call the gallery to come get it. Then Mike would have to find a place to show it in his already overstuffed gallery and he’d remember why fishing for more paintings was always a bad idea.
Peregrine added a few more blades of grass and a touch more shine to the dew-kissed roses. Perfect.
The doorbell rang. Emil was talking to his editor. Peregrine had door and house phone duty. He slipped his pallet and the brush into a plastic bag and waved Emil back to the table as he passed the opening to the rest of the house. Emil hadn’t ask him to take over, but Emil’s job was at least as important as Peregrine’s.
Whoever was at the door rang again. Peregrine hit the button to silence the bell before he opened the door. An older woman glanced at him then looked passed him. “Where’s Kurt?”
“And a good day to you too, ma’am.” He had expected Kurt’s mother to appear now that her life was in the kind of shambles she’d left his in the day she stole Kurt from him.
She rolled her eyes and stepped towards the gap between Peregrine and the door frame. “I know he lives here.”
Peregrine moved into her path and slid his foot behind the door to cover that side.
She stomped her foot. “Get him.”
How did a person get to that age and still be so rude? “And you would be, ma’am?”
He hoped calling someone ma’am with a drawl was a rude where she was from as it was here. Or she might thing he was being super polite. He didn’t care either way.
“I’m his mother!”
Peregrine nodded. He stuck out his hand. “And I’m the boy you saved him from in college. Peregrine Jones.”
She shook his hand but pulled away a tad too quickly to be polite. This was going to be fun.
He opened the door all the way and gestured to the small table on the dais. “Come in, come in. Kurt has told us so much about you.”
She frowned. So much fun. Peregrine led her to a cushion. “Make yourself at home. Coffee? Tea?”
“Coffee.” She sat down and put her purse in her lap.
Peregrine poured coffee grounds in the French press and added boiling water from the tap. He set the press on the tiny counter and got out their best china cups. Emil would need something. Peregrine pulled out his phone. We have company. Kurt’s mother. Tea or cocoa?
He smiled at Kurt’s mother. “It is so nice for you to come visit us. How long will you be in town?”
Kurt’s mother looked around. “Us?”
Most of the shouji doors were closed. The two opened ones showed Willow and Liam pictures. These were the two they didn’t want at the showing but didn’t have space for. In the first Willow was a fairy and Liam a fawn in a woodland setting. In the second Willow and Liam were making eyes at each other across a crowded bus, populated by family and friends.
Along the opposite wall, characters from Emil’s picture book frolicked across the wall over captions from the book. And at the end of the room, Kurt’s double-hearted dragon surveyed everything. She could not see it very well as her back was facing that way. Peregrine stood up. “Kurt made this.”
He led her to the dragon. “He hadn’t touched glass work for over a decade and he stepped right back in as if he never left.”
She reached out her hand, but stopped before touching the glass.
Peregrine put his hand on the dragon’s wing. “Feel the texture.”
Her fingers rested against the wing.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Kurt has such a wonderful talent.”
“He made this?” She walked around the dragon slowly.
“Yeah. It’s his favorite color.”
“Green?”
She thought Kurt was hers, but she knew nothing about him. Kurt was Peregrine’s and he planned on proving it.
--
Emil sighed as he hung up his phone. When everything was going well, his editor had so much more to say than when things weren’t. His picture book was selling well enough that she wanted him to write another, this one for an older audience. She also wanted him to age up his science book so his readers could continue to enjoy his books as they grew. He wasn’t ready for either.
He’d gotten a call or text or something while on the phone. It was a text. From Peregrine. About Kurt’s mother. Yikes!
And the message was five minutes old. He hurried to the entryway. The shouji door to the hall was closed. He stopped to listen. A woman was talking, but she wasn’t near the door. He opened the door slowly. She was sitting at the table with her back to him. He slipped in and walked to the stairs to the dais. “Hello.”
Peregrine put out a hand to Emil. “Ma’am, this is Emil Bonsa-Faie. Kurt’s boyfriend.”
So that was how Peregrine was playing it.
“Emil, this is Kurt’s mother, Mrs. Styles.”
She drew herself up. “Ms. Knowles. Pamela Knowles.”
Emil sat down on a cushion and shook her hand. “I’m really happy to meet you. Kurt was worried that you didn’t approve of the way he lived, so he didn’t bring us with him. I’m glad you’ve seen the light.”
Pamela sucked in a deep breath. “I do not approve. Where is Kurt? Bring him here!”
Emil took the cup Peregrine offered. “Kurt will be home soon. Coffee?”
Peregrine filled Pamela’s cup. She added sugar and creamer and took a drink then set down her cup. “You can’t distract me. I want Kurt.”
“Patience, Ms. Knowles.” Emil took a drink from his cup. “Kurt will be walking through that door any minute.”
He might be fudging with the time, but he needed to keep her seated. He didn’t want her making a scene at Kurt’s workplace.
Pamela checked her watch. “I can go meet him.”
“The building has several doors. You might miss him.” Peregrine refilled her cup and then his own. She took a sip and added a pinch more creamer and sugar.
“Did you plan on staying for dinner?” Would she prefer a meaty dinner or a veggie one?
She took her purse off her lap and got on one knee. “I don’t want to impose.”
“You aren’t.” Peregrine handed her her cup.
She sat back down and took a long drink. The moment she set the cup down Peregrine refilled it. She then mixed it back to the perfect ratio of coffee, creamer, and sugar. Peregrine was going to drive her crazy.
“We could go out. Indian?”
Pamela frowned. “What?”
“Or Pakistani? West African? Korean?” Peregrine took a drink of his black coffee. “I’ve got it: fish tacos.”
Emil grinned. “Meatball burritos.”
Pamela’s frown deepened. “Kurt wouldn’t eat any of that.”
Did she not know her son at all? “Kurt eats anything with meat in it.”
“No. He’s really picky.”
She had no idea. “About his vegetables. He likes those raw or barely cooked.”
Peregrine lifted his brows. “Or cooked by you.”
Emil grinned. He was proud of his cooking.
“You cook?”
“So does Kurt.” He sliced to perfection and made a pretty mean breakfast. He was a quick learner.
Pamela made to stand. “I must have the wrong address.”
Peregrine stood up in one fluid motion. “This is your son.”
He opened a shouji door. In the painting Kurt wore 1940s clothing and eyed the backside of a soldier modeled on Emil. Pamela stood up and scrutinized the painting. She touched the canvas. Peregrine bit his lip.
She put her hands on her hips. “My son is not gay.”
A grin spread across Peregrine’s face. “Well, I’ve slept with him.”
“That was when he was young and stupid. He didn’t know his mind.”
“Did he not know his mind this morning?” Emil added coffee to Pamela’s mostly empty cup.
She swooped down and added creamer and sugar. “I don’t believe you.”
Emil shrugged. “I distinctly remembered when he kissed me awake.” That had been followed by many more kisses and some exercise. “And we were standing right about there,” he pointed to the door, “when he kissed me goodbye.”
Pamela crossed her arms. “My son isn’t gay.”
“He does a pretty good imitation of it.” Peregrine emptied the grounds from the French press.
“I don’t believe you.”
Peregrine shrugged. “You don’t have to.”
“He wouldn’t betray me.”
“How is Kurt’s sexuality a betrayal?” Her not accepting him as he was was the betrayal.
“He’s supposed to marry a nice girl.”
“If he did that, the marriage wouldn’t last as long as yours did.” Peregrine poured boiling water over the new grounds in the press. He’d talked to Kurt’s father just yesterday. Dan’s boyfriend had moved into his condo and they were looking for a little house.
“Don’t you dare talk about my marriage! My husband is just going through a midlife crisis. He’ll be back. He’ll come begging for us to be like we were.”
“You alone in the master bedroom and him down the hall?”
She stood up and glared down at him. “I don’t have to listen to this.”
She stomped down the stairs and opened a door and strode through. It was the bathroom, but she didn’t come out. Maybe she needed a few minutes alone.
Peregrine refilled Emil’s cup. “How was your call?
Emil sighed. “She wants me to write for older ages.”
“But you like the age you write for now.”
Emil nodded. “She said that my readers’ parents will pass the books to younger cousins and friends, which are lost sales, and those parents and grandparents, who formerly bought my books will look for someone that writes for the kid’s new reading level. I’ll have to draw in a whole new readership every few years. But I’ve been at this for over a decade and I’m still doing well. Why change?”
Peregrine rubbed a hand along Emil’s thigh. “You’re comfortable.”
Emil leaned close. Peregrine had gotten pretty good at listening in the last few weeks. Emil planned on keeping up his end by rewarding good behavior. “I love you.”
Peregrine’s eyes brightened. Emil kissed the grin off his face. He’d think of a better reward once their company went home.
Peregrine smile settled in his eyes. He could pretend to be less than ecstatic, but Emil knew how to read him. Peregrine filled his cup with coffee. “You know, I feel kind of sorry for her.”
This was for real because Peregrine had requested that every bathroom be soundproof. Emil put his hand on Peregrine. “She dug her own grave.”
“But to live a life where people are happier once you’re gone? Dan is happier than he’s ever been and Clara loves her new home. And Kurt is certainly happier when he forgets she exists. Like a backward It’s a Wonderful Life.”
Now that was an odd sentiment to vocalize, no matter how much Emil agreed with it. He looked over his shoulder. The door to the bathroom was slightly open. Emil sighed. “Be nice.”
“I am.” Peregrine grinned. He opened his phone. Emil’s vibrated. She can always leave if she doesn’t like how she’s treated.
Emil typed out. What if she were your mother, but deleted it. Peregrine had treated his father worse than he would treat any stranger. How would Kurt treat her?
He’d give her her own way and grind his teeth in private.
All too true. “I guess I feel sorry for her too. I can’t think of a single way to defend her.”
Pamela threw open the door. “I don’t need defended. How could you possibly know Dan is happier without me?”
Peregrine held up his phone with the contacts open and scrolled down to Kurt’s Dad. “I talked to him just last night. He’s a real nice guy. He just talked Jake into moving into his little bachelor pad. They are happy by all accounts.”
Pamela crossed her arms. “And whose accounts would those be?”
“Clara’s and Todd’s.”
Pamela deflated. Peregrine poured more coffee into her cup. She sat down, fixed it, took a sip and then leaned back. “You know a lot about me, but I know something about you.”
Peregrine locked his eyes on hers. “And what would that be.”
“I saw you two kissing here. I know you are cheating on my Kurt. He’ll be so angry that he’ll come home with me. Just you wait until I tell him.”
Peregrine laughed. Emil joined in. Pamela frowned. Emil took a drink of tea to clear away the giggles. “Peregrine and I were dating first. Kurt decided to join us.”
“At Emil’s invitation.”
Emil nodded graciously. “He was nice enough to say yes.”
“What?” Pamela held onto her cup like it might save her life.
Peregrine leaned forward. “He means we all three sleep in the same bed.” He stood up. “Would you like proof?”
She didn’t stand up. “I’ll wait here for Kurt.”
Peregrine grinned. “Feel free. I’m in the middle of a painting, so if you’ll excuse me.”
Then he left, leaving Emil with Kurt’s mother. How long until Kurt returned?
She sighed. “I didn’t plan on all this. He’s my son. I need him now. Family comes first.”
Emil took a sip of tea. “But which family?”
She sat up straight. “Which family? Family family. You only have one.”
“That’s pretty limiting, isn’t it?” Emil sat down his cup. He had three families. “My blood relatives are the least important family to me.”
“What an awful thing to say!”
“My adoptive family I’m pretty close to.”
“Oh.” She sagged back into the cushion.
“But my most important family is the one I picked for myself. “Peregrine and Kurt, Zan and Autumn and all the others.”
Greg was much easier to be around now that he wasn’t mooning over Peregrine and Mike had calmed down considerable since he’d started getting laid regularly.
“Friends? Friends aren’t family.”
“My friends are. Zan even calls me her little brother. She calls Kurt her big brother.” That was one more way Kurt and Peregrine were tied together.
Pamela finished the last of her coffee and poured herself some more before Emil could offer. She mixed in creamer and sugar and took a sip. “But not the other one. Peregrine.”
Peregrine didn’t see family the same way Kurt and Emil. It was a love hate thing for him. “Peregrine has enough siblings.”
“How many?”
Was she just gossiping and filling time until Kurt returned or was she actually interested in the three of them? Either way, it passed the time. “Eight. With spouses and the equivalent and kids,” plus in-laws that Peregrine loved more than his own parents, “they fill a house and the four youngest are still in school.”
She frowned. “Isn’t Peregrine Kurt’s age?”
“And the oldest. His youngest sister is eight. His oldest niece is twelve.”
She asked a lot more questions about Peregrine’s family and how often he saw them and the exact amount, which Emil had to tally up on a paper napkin to figure out. “Thirty-three, counting me and Kurt. My family’s smaller.”
They had been talking about Peregrine for too long.
“Dad has adopted eight kids with three foster kids, but only one of us is married with kids so total family is only fourteen. I don’t think any of us are going to increase the population by much.”
“You’re not going to have kids?”
Was she worried about Kurt having descendants?
“We haven’t had any lengthy discussions, but that may be because we all feel we make better uncles than dads.”
She stirred her coffee. “It’s nice you agree on that.”
“Did you and Dan?” He’d talked long enough.
She bit her lip. “He doesn’t think Kurt is his.”
Emil had heard all about that through Kurt. She was acting as if Kurt was Dan’s even though she’d practically told both of them he wasn’t. Emil couldn’t feel sorry for her. “And Kurt was your last. Did you want more?”
She sighed. “My sister and I married on the same day. Our first babies were born days apart. We planned our second children to be three years younger. Dan just wasn’t interested. Shirley got pregnant, so I forced the issue. Dan never forgave me. Then Shirley miscarried and couldn’t get pregnant again. Her youngest two are in their mid twenties. I lost my husband over nothing.”
She took a hanky out of her purse and wiped her eyes.
Emil didn’t feel a thing. So she hadn’t hurt and humiliated her husband to hide the fact she were carrying some other man’s baby?
He had a hard time believing that.
“Kurt is getting on well with his father lately.”
She looked up, her eyes dry. “Since when?”
“Christmas, or thereabouts. Dan told him that Kurt was his son even if they didn’t share a drop of blood.”
“But they do. Kurt is Dan’s.”
“Yes he is. They talked about it. Dan asked forgiveness for not being the father he could have been. Kurt forgave him. They’ve been chatting a lot. Turns out they have a lot in common.”
Pamela drained the last of her coffee and refilled it. “Such as?”
How could she have known both these men for longer than Emil had been alive and still hadn’t seen the parts Emil had in a few months? Emil hadn’t even talked to Dan yet. “They are both gay.”
She slapped her hands against the table top. “Dan is not gay.”
Her hands had to hurt, but he still didn’t feel bad for her. She’d caused most of her own pain. But maybe she was right. “Dan might not be strictly gay, but he’s been pining for a man for a quarter century. That has to count for something. Kurt could really empathize with that. He pined for Peregrine for over a decade.”
“Kurt did not pine for Peregrine. He pined for his old life: his art school and all that. It was never Peregrine he wanted.”
And how did she know that? “Many of the people from Kurt’s college still live in town. Kurt did go to talk to them first, but only to ask after Peregrine. They love each other a lot, but I wasn’t just going to step aside. Peregrine is one of those men you never get over.” He grinned. “Besides Kurt is really handsome and nice. Having him with us is no hardship.”
Pamela frowned. “You three really are together.”
“We share a bed, a bathroom, and even a closet. Would you like to see it? I can give you a tour.” He was tired of sitting and he needed to find out whether Peregrine had warned Kurt about their guest. This wasn’t a surprise we wanted sprung on a man he loved.
I’d like to get my stuff to a slightly wider audience, especially now that FP doesn’t do alerts (or at least I haven’t got once since August), but I’d like to at least pretend I know what I’m doing.
Title: Unwelcome Visitor
Series: A Balance of Harmonies (Three)
Status: Chapter one hundred thirty-nine of a few more
Genre: m/m romance, drama, city life, businessmen
Rating: R
Content: painting, doorbell, demands, introduction, art, rushing, coffee, plans, declarations, kisses, interruption, family, the past
Length: about 3,200 words
Summary: Peregrine comes face to face with the woman who ruined his life. Emil can get on with anyone.
Master list
Peregrine surveyed the door painting on the easel. He’d told Mike that nothing more would be done for the showing, but this painting only needed the last inspiration. If he finished it by Tuesday, he’d call the gallery to come get it. Then Mike would have to find a place to show it in his already overstuffed gallery and he’d remember why fishing for more paintings was always a bad idea.
Peregrine added a few more blades of grass and a touch more shine to the dew-kissed roses. Perfect.
The doorbell rang. Emil was talking to his editor. Peregrine had door and house phone duty. He slipped his pallet and the brush into a plastic bag and waved Emil back to the table as he passed the opening to the rest of the house. Emil hadn’t ask him to take over, but Emil’s job was at least as important as Peregrine’s.
Whoever was at the door rang again. Peregrine hit the button to silence the bell before he opened the door. An older woman glanced at him then looked passed him. “Where’s Kurt?”
“And a good day to you too, ma’am.” He had expected Kurt’s mother to appear now that her life was in the kind of shambles she’d left his in the day she stole Kurt from him.
She rolled her eyes and stepped towards the gap between Peregrine and the door frame. “I know he lives here.”
Peregrine moved into her path and slid his foot behind the door to cover that side.
She stomped her foot. “Get him.”
How did a person get to that age and still be so rude? “And you would be, ma’am?”
He hoped calling someone ma’am with a drawl was a rude where she was from as it was here. Or she might thing he was being super polite. He didn’t care either way.
“I’m his mother!”
Peregrine nodded. He stuck out his hand. “And I’m the boy you saved him from in college. Peregrine Jones.”
She shook his hand but pulled away a tad too quickly to be polite. This was going to be fun.
He opened the door all the way and gestured to the small table on the dais. “Come in, come in. Kurt has told us so much about you.”
She frowned. So much fun. Peregrine led her to a cushion. “Make yourself at home. Coffee? Tea?”
“Coffee.” She sat down and put her purse in her lap.
Peregrine poured coffee grounds in the French press and added boiling water from the tap. He set the press on the tiny counter and got out their best china cups. Emil would need something. Peregrine pulled out his phone. We have company. Kurt’s mother. Tea or cocoa?
He smiled at Kurt’s mother. “It is so nice for you to come visit us. How long will you be in town?”
Kurt’s mother looked around. “Us?”
Most of the shouji doors were closed. The two opened ones showed Willow and Liam pictures. These were the two they didn’t want at the showing but didn’t have space for. In the first Willow was a fairy and Liam a fawn in a woodland setting. In the second Willow and Liam were making eyes at each other across a crowded bus, populated by family and friends.
Along the opposite wall, characters from Emil’s picture book frolicked across the wall over captions from the book. And at the end of the room, Kurt’s double-hearted dragon surveyed everything. She could not see it very well as her back was facing that way. Peregrine stood up. “Kurt made this.”
He led her to the dragon. “He hadn’t touched glass work for over a decade and he stepped right back in as if he never left.”
She reached out her hand, but stopped before touching the glass.
Peregrine put his hand on the dragon’s wing. “Feel the texture.”
Her fingers rested against the wing.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Kurt has such a wonderful talent.”
“He made this?” She walked around the dragon slowly.
“Yeah. It’s his favorite color.”
“Green?”
She thought Kurt was hers, but she knew nothing about him. Kurt was Peregrine’s and he planned on proving it.
--
Emil sighed as he hung up his phone. When everything was going well, his editor had so much more to say than when things weren’t. His picture book was selling well enough that she wanted him to write another, this one for an older audience. She also wanted him to age up his science book so his readers could continue to enjoy his books as they grew. He wasn’t ready for either.
He’d gotten a call or text or something while on the phone. It was a text. From Peregrine. About Kurt’s mother. Yikes!
And the message was five minutes old. He hurried to the entryway. The shouji door to the hall was closed. He stopped to listen. A woman was talking, but she wasn’t near the door. He opened the door slowly. She was sitting at the table with her back to him. He slipped in and walked to the stairs to the dais. “Hello.”
Peregrine put out a hand to Emil. “Ma’am, this is Emil Bonsa-Faie. Kurt’s boyfriend.”
So that was how Peregrine was playing it.
“Emil, this is Kurt’s mother, Mrs. Styles.”
She drew herself up. “Ms. Knowles. Pamela Knowles.”
Emil sat down on a cushion and shook her hand. “I’m really happy to meet you. Kurt was worried that you didn’t approve of the way he lived, so he didn’t bring us with him. I’m glad you’ve seen the light.”
Pamela sucked in a deep breath. “I do not approve. Where is Kurt? Bring him here!”
Emil took the cup Peregrine offered. “Kurt will be home soon. Coffee?”
Peregrine filled Pamela’s cup. She added sugar and creamer and took a drink then set down her cup. “You can’t distract me. I want Kurt.”
“Patience, Ms. Knowles.” Emil took a drink from his cup. “Kurt will be walking through that door any minute.”
He might be fudging with the time, but he needed to keep her seated. He didn’t want her making a scene at Kurt’s workplace.
Pamela checked her watch. “I can go meet him.”
“The building has several doors. You might miss him.” Peregrine refilled her cup and then his own. She took a sip and added a pinch more creamer and sugar.
“Did you plan on staying for dinner?” Would she prefer a meaty dinner or a veggie one?
She took her purse off her lap and got on one knee. “I don’t want to impose.”
“You aren’t.” Peregrine handed her her cup.
She sat back down and took a long drink. The moment she set the cup down Peregrine refilled it. She then mixed it back to the perfect ratio of coffee, creamer, and sugar. Peregrine was going to drive her crazy.
“We could go out. Indian?”
Pamela frowned. “What?”
“Or Pakistani? West African? Korean?” Peregrine took a drink of his black coffee. “I’ve got it: fish tacos.”
Emil grinned. “Meatball burritos.”
Pamela’s frown deepened. “Kurt wouldn’t eat any of that.”
Did she not know her son at all? “Kurt eats anything with meat in it.”
“No. He’s really picky.”
She had no idea. “About his vegetables. He likes those raw or barely cooked.”
Peregrine lifted his brows. “Or cooked by you.”
Emil grinned. He was proud of his cooking.
“You cook?”
“So does Kurt.” He sliced to perfection and made a pretty mean breakfast. He was a quick learner.
Pamela made to stand. “I must have the wrong address.”
Peregrine stood up in one fluid motion. “This is your son.”
He opened a shouji door. In the painting Kurt wore 1940s clothing and eyed the backside of a soldier modeled on Emil. Pamela stood up and scrutinized the painting. She touched the canvas. Peregrine bit his lip.
She put her hands on her hips. “My son is not gay.”
A grin spread across Peregrine’s face. “Well, I’ve slept with him.”
“That was when he was young and stupid. He didn’t know his mind.”
“Did he not know his mind this morning?” Emil added coffee to Pamela’s mostly empty cup.
She swooped down and added creamer and sugar. “I don’t believe you.”
Emil shrugged. “I distinctly remembered when he kissed me awake.” That had been followed by many more kisses and some exercise. “And we were standing right about there,” he pointed to the door, “when he kissed me goodbye.”
Pamela crossed her arms. “My son isn’t gay.”
“He does a pretty good imitation of it.” Peregrine emptied the grounds from the French press.
“I don’t believe you.”
Peregrine shrugged. “You don’t have to.”
“He wouldn’t betray me.”
“How is Kurt’s sexuality a betrayal?” Her not accepting him as he was was the betrayal.
“He’s supposed to marry a nice girl.”
“If he did that, the marriage wouldn’t last as long as yours did.” Peregrine poured boiling water over the new grounds in the press. He’d talked to Kurt’s father just yesterday. Dan’s boyfriend had moved into his condo and they were looking for a little house.
“Don’t you dare talk about my marriage! My husband is just going through a midlife crisis. He’ll be back. He’ll come begging for us to be like we were.”
“You alone in the master bedroom and him down the hall?”
She stood up and glared down at him. “I don’t have to listen to this.”
She stomped down the stairs and opened a door and strode through. It was the bathroom, but she didn’t come out. Maybe she needed a few minutes alone.
Peregrine refilled Emil’s cup. “How was your call?
Emil sighed. “She wants me to write for older ages.”
“But you like the age you write for now.”
Emil nodded. “She said that my readers’ parents will pass the books to younger cousins and friends, which are lost sales, and those parents and grandparents, who formerly bought my books will look for someone that writes for the kid’s new reading level. I’ll have to draw in a whole new readership every few years. But I’ve been at this for over a decade and I’m still doing well. Why change?”
Peregrine rubbed a hand along Emil’s thigh. “You’re comfortable.”
Emil leaned close. Peregrine had gotten pretty good at listening in the last few weeks. Emil planned on keeping up his end by rewarding good behavior. “I love you.”
Peregrine’s eyes brightened. Emil kissed the grin off his face. He’d think of a better reward once their company went home.
Peregrine smile settled in his eyes. He could pretend to be less than ecstatic, but Emil knew how to read him. Peregrine filled his cup with coffee. “You know, I feel kind of sorry for her.”
This was for real because Peregrine had requested that every bathroom be soundproof. Emil put his hand on Peregrine. “She dug her own grave.”
“But to live a life where people are happier once you’re gone? Dan is happier than he’s ever been and Clara loves her new home. And Kurt is certainly happier when he forgets she exists. Like a backward It’s a Wonderful Life.”
Now that was an odd sentiment to vocalize, no matter how much Emil agreed with it. He looked over his shoulder. The door to the bathroom was slightly open. Emil sighed. “Be nice.”
“I am.” Peregrine grinned. He opened his phone. Emil’s vibrated. She can always leave if she doesn’t like how she’s treated.
Emil typed out. What if she were your mother, but deleted it. Peregrine had treated his father worse than he would treat any stranger. How would Kurt treat her?
He’d give her her own way and grind his teeth in private.
All too true. “I guess I feel sorry for her too. I can’t think of a single way to defend her.”
Pamela threw open the door. “I don’t need defended. How could you possibly know Dan is happier without me?”
Peregrine held up his phone with the contacts open and scrolled down to Kurt’s Dad. “I talked to him just last night. He’s a real nice guy. He just talked Jake into moving into his little bachelor pad. They are happy by all accounts.”
Pamela crossed her arms. “And whose accounts would those be?”
“Clara’s and Todd’s.”
Pamela deflated. Peregrine poured more coffee into her cup. She sat down, fixed it, took a sip and then leaned back. “You know a lot about me, but I know something about you.”
Peregrine locked his eyes on hers. “And what would that be.”
“I saw you two kissing here. I know you are cheating on my Kurt. He’ll be so angry that he’ll come home with me. Just you wait until I tell him.”
Peregrine laughed. Emil joined in. Pamela frowned. Emil took a drink of tea to clear away the giggles. “Peregrine and I were dating first. Kurt decided to join us.”
“At Emil’s invitation.”
Emil nodded graciously. “He was nice enough to say yes.”
“What?” Pamela held onto her cup like it might save her life.
Peregrine leaned forward. “He means we all three sleep in the same bed.” He stood up. “Would you like proof?”
She didn’t stand up. “I’ll wait here for Kurt.”
Peregrine grinned. “Feel free. I’m in the middle of a painting, so if you’ll excuse me.”
Then he left, leaving Emil with Kurt’s mother. How long until Kurt returned?
She sighed. “I didn’t plan on all this. He’s my son. I need him now. Family comes first.”
Emil took a sip of tea. “But which family?”
She sat up straight. “Which family? Family family. You only have one.”
“That’s pretty limiting, isn’t it?” Emil sat down his cup. He had three families. “My blood relatives are the least important family to me.”
“What an awful thing to say!”
“My adoptive family I’m pretty close to.”
“Oh.” She sagged back into the cushion.
“But my most important family is the one I picked for myself. “Peregrine and Kurt, Zan and Autumn and all the others.”
Greg was much easier to be around now that he wasn’t mooning over Peregrine and Mike had calmed down considerable since he’d started getting laid regularly.
“Friends? Friends aren’t family.”
“My friends are. Zan even calls me her little brother. She calls Kurt her big brother.” That was one more way Kurt and Peregrine were tied together.
Pamela finished the last of her coffee and poured herself some more before Emil could offer. She mixed in creamer and sugar and took a sip. “But not the other one. Peregrine.”
Peregrine didn’t see family the same way Kurt and Emil. It was a love hate thing for him. “Peregrine has enough siblings.”
“How many?”
Was she just gossiping and filling time until Kurt returned or was she actually interested in the three of them? Either way, it passed the time. “Eight. With spouses and the equivalent and kids,” plus in-laws that Peregrine loved more than his own parents, “they fill a house and the four youngest are still in school.”
She frowned. “Isn’t Peregrine Kurt’s age?”
“And the oldest. His youngest sister is eight. His oldest niece is twelve.”
She asked a lot more questions about Peregrine’s family and how often he saw them and the exact amount, which Emil had to tally up on a paper napkin to figure out. “Thirty-three, counting me and Kurt. My family’s smaller.”
They had been talking about Peregrine for too long.
“Dad has adopted eight kids with three foster kids, but only one of us is married with kids so total family is only fourteen. I don’t think any of us are going to increase the population by much.”
“You’re not going to have kids?”
Was she worried about Kurt having descendants?
“We haven’t had any lengthy discussions, but that may be because we all feel we make better uncles than dads.”
She stirred her coffee. “It’s nice you agree on that.”
“Did you and Dan?” He’d talked long enough.
She bit her lip. “He doesn’t think Kurt is his.”
Emil had heard all about that through Kurt. She was acting as if Kurt was Dan’s even though she’d practically told both of them he wasn’t. Emil couldn’t feel sorry for her. “And Kurt was your last. Did you want more?”
She sighed. “My sister and I married on the same day. Our first babies were born days apart. We planned our second children to be three years younger. Dan just wasn’t interested. Shirley got pregnant, so I forced the issue. Dan never forgave me. Then Shirley miscarried and couldn’t get pregnant again. Her youngest two are in their mid twenties. I lost my husband over nothing.”
She took a hanky out of her purse and wiped her eyes.
Emil didn’t feel a thing. So she hadn’t hurt and humiliated her husband to hide the fact she were carrying some other man’s baby?
He had a hard time believing that.
“Kurt is getting on well with his father lately.”
She looked up, her eyes dry. “Since when?”
“Christmas, or thereabouts. Dan told him that Kurt was his son even if they didn’t share a drop of blood.”
“But they do. Kurt is Dan’s.”
“Yes he is. They talked about it. Dan asked forgiveness for not being the father he could have been. Kurt forgave him. They’ve been chatting a lot. Turns out they have a lot in common.”
Pamela drained the last of her coffee and refilled it. “Such as?”
How could she have known both these men for longer than Emil had been alive and still hadn’t seen the parts Emil had in a few months? Emil hadn’t even talked to Dan yet. “They are both gay.”
She slapped her hands against the table top. “Dan is not gay.”
Her hands had to hurt, but he still didn’t feel bad for her. She’d caused most of her own pain. But maybe she was right. “Dan might not be strictly gay, but he’s been pining for a man for a quarter century. That has to count for something. Kurt could really empathize with that. He pined for Peregrine for over a decade.”
“Kurt did not pine for Peregrine. He pined for his old life: his art school and all that. It was never Peregrine he wanted.”
And how did she know that? “Many of the people from Kurt’s college still live in town. Kurt did go to talk to them first, but only to ask after Peregrine. They love each other a lot, but I wasn’t just going to step aside. Peregrine is one of those men you never get over.” He grinned. “Besides Kurt is really handsome and nice. Having him with us is no hardship.”
Pamela frowned. “You three really are together.”
“We share a bed, a bathroom, and even a closet. Would you like to see it? I can give you a tour.” He was tired of sitting and he needed to find out whether Peregrine had warned Kurt about their guest. This wasn’t a surprise we wanted sprung on a man he loved.