Carter's Shadow - 18. Chapter 18

"You've been quiet all day," his mother said, standing in the doorway to his room as he typed away on his computer.

He glanced up at her and smiled. "I'm okay," he said pivoting in his chair. "Just, going over stuff in my head. It's been a long week."

His mother came into his room and sat down on the edge of his bed, folding her hands into her lap in a way that she often did, mimicking a proper lady. She looked over at him quietly as if collecting her thoughts about what she wanted to say, and finally offered him a light smile. His mother always had the most beautiful of smiles.

"Do you want to talk about Blake?" she asked without hesitation.

"Not really anything to say," West replied honestly, pushing his keyboard back into the desk as he turned and rested a foot on the computer tower as he absently brushed his ear with his fingers. "It's just, I tried and ... nothing. He's a really great guy, and I like him, but I just don't like-like him."

"You always had a habit of second guessing yourself," his mother gave him a warm and reassuring smile. "You know, you don't have to date the first person that comes along, it takes time to find love. And you are going to make mistakes. I think every once in awhile you should just close your eyes and let yourself make a mistake..."

"Huh?" West looked up in surprise.

His mother was giving him the same warm smile, sitting perched on the end of his bed, one eyebrow the only confirmation that he had heard her correctly. "You try so hard to be perfect that you forget sometimes that you are eighteen. You're so concerned with doing the right thing that you miss out on the fun that life has to offer. If you continue as you're going you're going to be middle-aged and anal-retentive before you're thirty!"

He gaped at his mother, "But...?"

"Have you ever kissed a boy for the sake of kissing him?" she asked him seriously. "Never mind if he's the boy you are in love with, you don't have to be in love with someone to kiss them--you can just kiss them for the sake of it. I once kissed this boy, Josh Gerard was his name, and we couldn't stop laughing. It wasn't anything serious, I wasn't in love with him, it was just that we made each other laugh..." She sighed, "You don't just walk around the corner and fall in love at first sight, it takes work."

"But, what about Dad?" West asked curiously.

She laughed, "I certainly wasn't in love with your father when I first met him. " She paused as if considering how much to tell him, "You see, your father had a few... he wasn't your conventional kind of potential boyfriend, and if I hadn't kissed him, I wouldn't have you." She got up and crossed to her boy, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and leaning down to kiss his forehead, "Stop trying to be perfect and just be yourself. Sometimes the only way to find out you love someone is to kiss them."

"Like the Cher song?" West asked, looking up. "It's in his kiss?"

"Well I suppose," she laughed. "You know, twenty years ago if I'd known I'd be having a conversation with my son about kissing boys and Cher..." she shook her head still laughing, "I'd have probably joined a nunnery."

West looked shocked at her, and she looked down at him. "Well, they wouldn't have let me in, but..." she winked at him. "I'm teasing," she reassured.

"That was just mean." West folded his arms, grinning, knowing full well she wasn't serious.

"I don't know, I could get into the habit..." She brushed down the lines of her blouse, "Black is quite slimming."

"I don't know, calling you Mother Superior..." West laughed.

"I'm already Mother Superior!" his mom declared, tussling her son's hair. "But just think about what I said--sometimes life is about making mistakes. The mistakes are sometimes what keep life fun."

She walked to the door and stopped, turning, "Are you going out tonight?"

He shifted in his chair and leaned back to look up at her. "I don't really feel like it," he admitted, "I just want to chill here tonight."

His mother nodded thoughtfully, "Would you mind watching Sammy then while your father and I go out? I was going to ask Joey, but he has his friend over."

"Sure," West replied with a smile. "Do you mind if I stuff her full of pizza?"

"There are a couple of frozen ones in the freezer," his mother said with a smile. "Just make sure she goes to bed at nine o'clock, ok?"

West nodded, bending back to his computer and finishing up his homework.

* * *

The loud belch from the living room caused Sammy to look up from the crook of West's arm, where she had been sitting quietly while they finished the latest Disney concoction that once again proved that the execs over there had completely run out of ideas.

"Ewww," Sammy said, looking through the door of West's bedroom towards where Joey and his friend were sitting around watching yet another action film, drinking soda and splitting one of the pizzas West had cooked up for them.

West looked down at his little sister and smiled, "Gross, huh?"

"Yeah!" she said firmly, remarkably bright-eyed for half an hour past her bedtime.

It was a sort of unspoken deal between the two of them--West always let her stay up a little late on the nights he babysat her, in exchange she didn't say anything to Mom and Dad. Even though West suspected they knew full well about the arrangement.

The movie was odd--some dinosaur film that was the same as every cutsie dinosaur movie that had come before it. And West wondered what had happened to the Disney powerhouse that had put out Aladdin, a movie West secretly really liked but, like most guys, vehemently denied ever watching.

"Boys are always gross," Sammy said, firmly folding her arms and shaking her curly blonde hair, "and mean, too!"

"I'm a boy too, you know," West said looking down at her.

"You're different," Sammy replied, "you don't smell!"

West blinked, "Thanks... I think."

She shifted again to go back to watching the movie and West quietly watched her, so intent on the animated characters she must have seen a hundred times before. West disengaged himself from the couch and got up to go get himself a drink from the kitchen.

He padded across the linoleum to the fridge, peering through it. Joey and Tony had finished the bottles of soda, so he set about mixing a jug of Kool-Aid, setting the jug into the sink and stretching his stiff neck.

It was nice to spend a relaxed night at home instead of being out with the guys, or downtown trying to figure out yet another gay bar. Though it did remind him to call and arrange another trip to a bar with Devon.

"Cherry?"

West jumped--he hadn't heard Tony approach--and he turned. "Yeah, figured we could use something else to drink," West said, stirring the jug as he looked over at Tony. "Joey still in the living room?"

"He's in the can," Tony said, leaning against the counter and folding his arms. "We're just getting ready to watch Die Hard, you should join us."

"Die Hard?" West grinned, "Classic."

"Yeah, not as good as Die Harder; we got that one too, for after." Tony nodded.

"Cool, well I'll join you guys once I put Sammy to bed," West agreed.

"Good!" Joey said coming into the kitchen, an empty bowl in his hands, as he raided a cupboard for a bag of chips, and refilled the bowl with BBQ, West's favourite. Which was odd, because Joey generally preferred all-dressed, and there was a bag in the cupboard. "We can wait for you."

"Thanks," West replied, holding up the jug of fresh Kool-Aid. "If you want it," he offered, setting it away after he poured himself a glass of juice.

He returned to find Sammy's movie was wrapping up, and he stood patiently until the end credits began to roll. Sammy, for her part, knew the drill; she didn't complain, only yawned loudly and followed West upstairs, giving him a hug goodnight before she vanished into her room to go to sleep, too tired to kick up a fuss about it being too early for bed.

When he returned downstairs, Joey had already put in the film and was fast-forwarding through the previews. He had commandeered the large chair, leaving West with a choice of his mother's rocking chair or sharing the couch with Tony, who bounced down a couple of cushions to make room.

West shrugged and sat down, balancing his juice on the arm of the sofa as Joey straightened up to turn out the lights. The film began with its typical fanfare and the three young men settled in to watch it.

West had seen the film countless times before; it was a classic staple of guys' lives everywhere, the king of action-flick trilogies, not that there were that many. It featured lots of guns, bad accents and excessive violence. Typically good fun, and West enjoyed it tremendously.

About halfway through the film Tony adjusted his position on the couch, pulling his feet up to stretch out a bit, and West felt a pair of socked feet resting against his leg. He looked down at them, and over at Tony, who pulled one of them back and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

West shook his head to say no, it was okay, and Tony stuck his feet out again to set them into West's lap as he took a handful of chips from the bowl, and began to crunch away happily.

West for his part was suddenly very aware of Tony's proximity. The ankles that were sitting against his upper legs. The soft denim of the chocolate-coloured jeans that were pressing against his forearms. The warmth of the body in them...

West swallowed and tried to focus on the movie, his brother Joey completely oblivious to his brother's sudden... situation. And West took a deep, calming breath as he bit his lip. Bruce Willis was in trouble again--it just wasn't a Bruce Willis film without Bruce getting shafted in some way, shape or form. From an innocent cop on Christmas vacation, to a General just following orders and getting screwed for them, through to saving the world from a big rock only to have to kill himself to do it. It just seemed that life for Bruce was never easy, no matter what he did.

West knew that feeling. His left forearm was being tickled by a couple of strands of Tony's leg hair from where the cuff of his jeans had ridden up a little to expose it. West wasn't sure how much more of it he could take. His mind was going a million different ways at once...

"Shoot the Glass!" All three boys said in unison at the exact moment Alan Rickman delivered his near infamous line.

They all laughed, and Joey turned his head to catch sight of where Tony had his feet. "Homos," he accused, grinning.

"It's comfortable," Tony replied, "you should try it."

"I'll pass, thanks," Joey replied, shaking his head and smirking to himself as he went back to his movie.

West stared at that smile, and then turned his head towards Tony, his eyes wide in surprise as he realized what his brother was up to. Tony for his part smiled at West, bounced his feet once and shifted to the side. He beckoned with a nod, inviting West to stretch out as well.

West glanced accusingly at Joey, who had turned again and was smiling. "You set me up!" he accused.

"I owed you one," Joey replied with a sure smile.

"For what?" West blinked.

"For helping me out with my chemistry this week," Joey said with a grin. "Now you two bitches snuggle and Uncle Joey can go back to his movie."

West shook his head, as Tony bounced his legs again, and West rolled his eyes, stretching out on the couch. There was something intrinsically wrong with snuggling with a guy in the middle of an action film, at least to West's perception. Tony shifted to press against him, pulling an arm around his chest and glancing up at West confidently as he smiled again.

He mouthed the word, "Sorry."

West shook his head and smiled. "It's ok," he mouthed back.

Tony was handsome in an odd way. His hair and eyes were the same shade of brown, a deep warm colour that caught the light in an interesting way. The faintest hint of a five o'clock shadow accented his features, as he smiled at West again. And West could tell Tony was in trim shape--not overly muscular, but defined in the way only a skater could get.

They were just there staring at each other, the movie forgotten. West was a few inches away from Tony, who was still holding onto his arm and staring back, their eyes meeting and flicking away as they studied each and every feature of the stranger that was suddenly intimately up close.

West wondered if he should be mad with Joey for the blatant setup, a blatant setup he should have seen coming. But his brother had always worked on some strange honour system--when he felt he had a debt to pay, he went out of his way to repay it. Back when they had been kids, it had always baffled West why Joey did some of the strange things he did just to say thank you in his own way.

Tony shifted his other arm, to bring it back behind his head. He rested his head on his hand as he continued to watch West's reactions, occasionally glancing over at the movie and Joey, who was blatantly ignoring the pair of them now.

They must have been lying there for an hour, because they hadn't noticed the movie end. Joey stood up and flicked on the lights, temporarily blinding the two other guys. "Mom and Dad are home," he warned.

West sat up, almost reluctantly, as Tony rolled off of the couch, hopping to his feet and adjusting his bunched-up clothes and brushing himself down. He excused himself politely as he went to the bathroom, leaving Joey and West alone for a moment.

"Why?" West asked, glancing to the bathroom.

"You like?" Joey asked grinning. "Consider him a down payment on some hot lesbian action..."

West balked, "Huh?"

"I'm kidding," Joey laughed. "I've known Tony for ages, and... well, he's a good guy and I wanted you two to meet."

The key rattled in the lock and their parents walked in; his mother surveyed the disaster that was her living room, and shook her head. "You men and messes," she sniffed as their dad walked in, closing the door behind him, and caught sight of the pizza.

"Oh man, real food!" he stated, walking forward and grabbing a slice gratefully.

"You ate at the restaurant..." his wife said disapprovingly.

"I'm sorry," Dad replied, "but two carrots, a slice of Melba toast and a shaving of beef is not my idea of a meal, no matter how much French they put on the menu... My dad was French, and I know French cooking, poutine and Montreal smoked meat... That was not cooking, that was a starvation diet that cost fifty bucks!"

"You're just uncultured," their mother accused, as Tony emerged from the washroom. She instantly became all smiles, "Hello, Tony, are my boys treating you well?"

"Very well, Mrs Harding," Tony replied, flushing a little in the cheeks, as West mirrored the blush and Joey just smirked.

"Well, we should get upstairs," their dad commented, taking his wife's coat and nodding towards the stairs. "Let the boys alone."

"If you think, after all your complaining about the restaurant, that you're..." she stopped and smiled again.

"Yes, dear." Old Mister Harding hung his head and shook it slowly, "Don't ever get married, boys," he threw towards the three of them. "Sure they're all nice and sweet to you to begin with, but then they get the ring and it's hell from there..."

"Oh you don't know hell, Jonathon Harding," their mother replied, folding her arms and looking amused at her husband. "You know the whole till-death-do-you-part thing? You're a heavy sleeper!"

"Witch!" Dad commented, taking a step forward.

"Drunk!" Mom returned fire.

Tony blinked and looked uncertain as to what was going on, while Joey and West rolled their eyes at each other, knowing full well what was going on.

"You know, I could file for divorce!" he said.

"You do and you get the kids!" she threatened.

"Oh no, you get the kids!" He shook his head fervently.

"Well, there goes the divorce plan," she said. "Guess we have to make up, now..."

"Oh god no!" Joey intoned.

"Ewww," West shuddered.

"Night, boys," their dad stated, throwing a wink as he followed his wife upstairs. Leaving them to settle down and watch Die Harder.