Chain Reaction 3.1.93: Fine

 

A/N: Between this one and the next one, the timeline gets a little wonky. This is the order I wanted to release the chapters, but I thought I'd make this comment.

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Darrin

     Mike and I spend more time at Charlotte's house over the next few months. We help her with the kids while Jarvis is at the store and she's taking a nap. She won't say it, but I think she's realizing that pregnancy in her thirties isn't as easy as pregnancy in her twenties. It's fine. I love hanging out with my nieces and nephew. Brent is over here a lot anyway, so we basically stay all evening until Jarvis gets home.

     If I had to pick a favorite, I think little Elle would win. She's very reserved, and the other kiddos have a tendency to walk all over her. She also has that 'middle kid' syndrome which probably makes her feel left out of a lot of things. However quiet and reserved she may be, if I can get her to open up, it's easy to see how special she really is. She lights up, and it's Unkie Daywin this and Unkie Daywin that.

     Charlotte finds out it's a boy, and I actually start crying. Sure I'd have been just as happy for a girl, especially one like Elle, but there's just something extra for me to have a son. For one, my parents, for the first time, acknowledge that I'm going to be a father. I don't know what their deal is, why they despise Mike, but they are at least happy to be "finally" getting a grandson. In a way, it makes me mad. Brent is their grandson too.

     Before we know it, that magical day finally arrives.

     The Maker also wanted Jarvis and Mike to come to the delivery, but it's only now that she realizes that isn't possible. So, it's just Charlotte and me there.

     My son. Mike and I decided to name him Theodore. Although, Theodore now sounds too grown up for such a tiny baby, so it's just Theo for short.

 

     My parents are finally happy that, in their seventies, they have a grandson at last, and they adore him. I try to be happy, but I can't help but be frustrated at how they're missing out on knowing a wonderful son-in-law and another grandson. Their loss.

 

      I doubt any amount of frustration from my parents could cast a shadow over how happy we all are, though. Mike and I have a baby: part him, part me.

      Mike catches me lightly singing to Theo when he walks in. He'd been at Charlotte's to help his sister with a few things.

 

     "Do I need to sign you up for Eden's Got Talent?" he chuckles.

     "Oh haha. Very funny." I smile even though what I said was totally sarcastic. I look at him. "Did you lose your shirt?" Not that I mind.

     "It's in the washer. Brylee spilled wood stain all over it accidentally. It's probably ruined, but it's no big deal." Our niece has been learning woodworking from her mom and has taken to it like the proverbial duck to water.

      I love watching Mike with Theo. He turns into figurative mush around him.

      Smiling, I think about how my life has turned out. It was a rocky path I took, but everything has turned out better than fine.

Marco

     I'm investigating a missing persons case. Witnesses who last saw him saw him here at this little hole-in-the-wall bookstore. After searching through some other things having to do with the case, I decide to pay the bookstore a visit, specifically showing up around the time the man was last seen.

     The place is practically deserted, I notice as I walk into the building. And it reeks of old books, a slight smell of incense, stale coffee, and more old books. I suppose having the coffee house next door is just the thing for the probable-hipster-nerd that would frequent this place.

     I speak with the shop owner and show her a picture of my missing guy. She recognizes him but says she hasn't seen him in weeks, putting that at about the time he went missing. Naturally, this was all in the file I briefed before getting started, but I wanted to watch facial expressions of the people I needed to question. She's clueless and hopes that I buy something.
 

     I have a look around upstairs. The whole place bores me to tears, but I guess I could understand why some would find it appealing. Turning my head to the left, I see just the type of person who would find this atmosphere appealing, and my heart beats a painful twang. 

     There's a book left on the floor. I'll just go pick it up and put it back on the shelf... right behind him. 

     It's been eleven months since we last spoke, and I've thought about him every day whether I wanted to or not. It doesn't help he's so similar in appearance to my boss, his father.

     It doesn't make any sense! How in plum did I so quickly fall in love with him, and why can't I let it go? I've 'dated' at least five different men since we last spoke, each of them utter disappointments. Technically, Dwight was a 'disappointment' too, wasn't he?

     Except I was also partly to blame.

     I notice the computers and decide to do a bogus web search for, um, closet organizers. Something. If I could just get myself in his line of vision, maybe he'll speak first and I won't be interrupting him.

 

     I had literally no idea closet organizers could be this expensive. Pun intended. 

     Notice me! Say something! Sigh. I may have to speak first. He's utterly engrossed in what appears to be a mystery novel. Something called The Inner Circle. 

     "Marco?" Oh good.

     "Hey. I didn't want to disturb you." It would be a total lie to pretend I didn't see him.

     He closes his book. "Eh, I've read this one before."

     I scowl. "Then why read it again?"

     "To see if I can catch anything I missed the first time. You know, stuff you think doesn't matter as you fly through it. I'm reading it slower this time."

     Maybe Dwight knows my missing person. I pull out the photo I have. "Do you frequent this place?" Plum, I almost said, 'Do you come here often?'
     "Often enough."

     I show him the picture and ask if he knows him. He bites his lip and says, "I'd rather not talk about it here."

     "Well, there's the coffeehouse, um, store... shop... thing next door." What the hell do they call it nowadays? "Would that be better?"

     "Sure." He gets up and puts the book back on the shelf. Then he strokes the spine with his finger before turning to me. "Let's go."

     It's the little things. I consider the way he basically caressed that book. Some people love books, but Dwight LOVES books. He'd told me they were his best friends at school. That might sound sad, but I wonder if he did that on purpose to shut everyone out as he struggled with how he fit into the world.

     Yeah, I've had some time to think.

 

     "Hello, gentlemen. What'll it be?" the barista asks.

     Dwight and I place our orders for a coffee, and they keep getting screwed up, the interaction cancelling on the screen, driving the Maker crazy. She sends me back into the bookstore's bathroom to brew a pot of coffee out of sight, and Dwight's order for food works even if the drink didn't.

    We take a seat next to the window.

     I'm about to ask about the missing guy, but Dwight speaks first. "So, how have you been?"

     Oh, plum. I hate these kinds of conversations. "Pretty much the same as I've always been." F--k. Now I have to turn it around on him. "You?" Do I really wanna know?

     He looks to be debating his answer. Don't ask the question if you're not prepared to answer it yourself! But then, that's what he does: ask questions.

     "Fine," he lies. I just know from years of experience reading faces. But it was also the 'I don't want to talk about it' kind of 'fine.'

     "Okay. You don't have to talk about it," I say to let him know I can tell he's not 'fine.'

     "So that man in the photo. I haven't seen him in a while, but I do have to say: something was a little off about him. He always acted like he had more stress in his life than the average person."

     Well this is new. "Did you know him personally?"

     "No, but..." He sighs. "I don't want to open a can of rotten worms here and send you skating down the wrong path, but... he reminded me of... my old roommate, how he was when he started getting involved in... stuff."

     Is he trying to be secretive? But still, this is very new information. "But you have no proof."

     "None. Just a comparison."

     "Well, it's a direction I haven't searched. I'll keep that in mind." That sounds like the end of a conversation. I don't want it to end. So, I decide to pour salt in my wounds just to prevent it ending. "So how's Pedro?"

     He sighs. "Working. A lot."

     "You sound jealous."

     "No. It's not that. I haven't a clue why he prefers me over them, but I'm not worried."

 

     I could tell you why. I could tell you why all damn day. 

     I want to figure out a way to ask him how he's dealing with Pedro's need for constant attention, constant adoration more like. I remember those times he'd come to me, and I wouldn't put up with that crap. He'd tell me I was putting his head on straight. Whatever.

     He offers up more information. "It's that he's never home. This time, he's gone for three weeks to Shang Simla. Three weeks! Thank plum for Lula Belle."

     I ask him who that is, and he tells me he got a dog, how he got the dog, and her breed.

     "We had cocker spaniels growing up." Back when my life was perfect. "Mom always gave them names like 'Princess' or 'Duchess.' I remember I got to name a puppy when one of them wound up pregnant. I named him 'Jelly Bean.'" How does he do this to me?!

     "That's so cute." He smiles, but I can't look at it for long. An awkward silence makes its appearance, and we sit here just eating and drinking. Then, he asks, "So have you been seeing anyone? Wait! Never mind. You don't have to answer that." He finishes off his croissant.

     I actually smile. Yeah, that's an uncomfortable question, but he just made it amusing. "Hah! No one serious. I date as*holes, remember?" F--k. No. Don't remember. Don't go there. I drain the last of my coffee, hiding in my mug for the last time.
     "But you dated Pedro."

 

     "I rest my case." He's the self-centered kind of as*hole.

     His face gets a little redder. "And... me."

     "Did we date, though?" I think for a minute and see that yeah, it could be looked at that way. "Then I guess you're the exception," I say to his quickly-souring expression. I have to change this conversation's direction. "Have you talked to him about how you don't like him being gone so much?" Not that I want you to in actuality.

     But then Dwight explodes, looking so much like his dad that it scares me.

      "Yes, I have! And that's when I get the lecture about how important the long lasting gigs are the best for his career and that if I care about him then that must mean that I care about his career and how he's not asking me to stay at home when he is home and I've gone in to the office. He's always turning it around on me like I should be happy he's going to be gone for x number of days because his career is so important to him. I'm not saying I feel less important, but maker, he is vain and thinks the world turns on its axis for just his benefit. I'm not saying I don't have issues either. I do, but his are driving me mad!" He slowly pants, catching his breath. Then he puts his face in his hands. "I don't know what else to do."

     Wow. And now I'm supposed to offer advice? Dump the bastard. I want to tell him to, but I don't want to be the one to tell him to. So, instead, I have to tell him something encouraging but not too encouraging. Plum. I suck at this sh*t. "So, uh, I guess if you have talked about it, you've got to decide whether or not him being gone a lot affects you enough to be a deal-breaker." Oh f--k. That sounded like a 'break up with him' thing. Damn, I really suck at this. "Or find a way to deal with it." Better.

     "I don't know, and now I'm just upset. I need to get home and take Libbie for a walk anyway." No! Don't leave! "Could I call you later once I get myself sorted out?"

     Zing! I have to work to hide my smile. "Of course you can. Any time."

     He lets out his breath like he was holding it. "Thanks. And I'll let you know if I find out anything about that guy. Nice seeing you again."

     I mumble something suitable to what he said... I think, and I watch him as he leaves the café.