Storms - 39. Daniel

I carefully unwrapped the rectangular box. I’ve never been one to tear the paper off a gift, always taking my time. Maybe it’s because I never really got many presents as a child, so I savoured the ones I did get. My eyes widened as the paper fell away. I looked up at Stephen and Lewis, who sat on the sofa facing me, smiling.

‘You guys got me a smartphone?’

‘We figured it was time you had one,’ said Lewis. ‘You know, so you can keep in touch with your friends more easily. You could do video calls with Michael, all sorts.’ He reached out and ruffled my hair. ‘And we’ve got one more thing for you. Not really a Christmas gift, but . . .’

‘What is it?’ I asked, unable to help the excitement I felt.

‘Hairdresser appointment on Tuesday.’ Stephen grinned. ‘We’ve been putting it off long enough, don’t you think?’

I smiled. ‘I do really need to do something about it, don’t I?’

‘Yes,’ said Lewis firmly. Then he smiled. ‘But what you do about it is up to you.’

‘Thank you. For this. For everything.’

‘You’re welcome,’ said Stephen.

There hadn’t been that many presents under the Christmas tree, though more than I had been used to. I had gotten something from Michael and Julie, and, surprisingly, from Stephen’s parents, who would be coming to Christmas dinner in a few hours. Stephen had a couple from coworkers, friends, his parents. Same with Lewis. Now only one remained, and that was for Stephen and Lewis from me. I picked it up from under the tree and handed it to them, feeling embarrassed.

I had no idea how to buy presents for people. I’d never really done it before, and I didn’t have much money, though Stephen and Lewis had insisted on giving me some to buy gifts for my friends with, and I had. But when it came to getting something for the two of them, I’d had no idea where to even start. I watched them as they opened the large, flat, rectangular parcel.

It was a framed photograph, a picture that Michael had snapped of the three of us just a few days ago. Stephen on the left and Lewis on the right, with me in the middle. We were all smiling. Michael and I had gone to a photo shop to get it developed in A4 size. I had decorated the picture frame with blue and purple rhinestones, which in hindsight felt really stupid. On the back of the frame I had written, For Stephen and Lewis. Merry Christmas. Love from Daniel.

They both looked up at me, and then Stephen stood and swooped me up into a crushing hug. ‘Thank you, Daniel,’ he murmured. ‘It’s the best gift you could have ever given us.’ He let go and held me at arm’s length, looking into my eyes. ‘Really. Thank you.’ His blue eyes were slightly wet.

Lewis followed suit, giving me a long hug. I felt like I might cry, but managed to keep it together. I had that overwhelming emotion again. The one that said, Family. Every day that passed, Stephen and Lewis felt more like my dads.

We tidied away all the wrapping paper, and then Lewis disappeared into the kitchen to check on the turkey. Stephen turned the TV on to some Christmas programme or another and I sat next to him on the sofa, setting up my new phone. He put his arm around my shoulder.

After a little while, he spoke. ‘There is one thing I need to talk to you about.’

‘What?’

‘We got a phone call yesterday, while you were out,’ he said. ‘It was from Social Services. About your grandparents.’

I stopped what I was doing and stared at him. ‘My grandparents?’

‘Yes. They’ve asked to come see you.’ He smiled. ‘You were right. They didn’t even know about you. It took them a while to make up their minds, but they really want to see you. So . . . they’re coming down on Wednesday.’

‘Really?’ I licked my lips. My stomach churned with mingled excitement and trepidation. My grandparents . . . What did they want? If they wanted to get to know me and be a part of my life, I welcomed that. But if they wanted to take me away from here, from my home and my school and my friends . . . I tried to put it out of my mind. I had a say, didn’t I? And the thought of finally meeting the grandparents I had missed my whole life made me very happy.

‘Hey,’ said Stephen, squeezing my shoulder and pulling me into a half hug. ‘It’ll be fine. They just want to meet you, it’s no big deal.’

I nodded. ‘Right. Of course.’

‘Why don’t you go to the kitchen and see if Lewis needs a hand? I’ll join you when this programme is done.’

‘All right.’ I got up and wandered out into the kitchen. Lewis was just closing the oven door and looked up at me with a smile. ‘Hey,’ I said.

‘Hey.’

‘Need any help?’

‘I’ve got some potatoes that need peeling,’ he said, gesturing to the table.

‘Okay.’ I sat down and picked up the vegetable peeler. ‘Stephen told me about my grandparents.’

Lewis stirred something on the cooker. ‘How do you feel about it?’

‘Okay, I guess. I mean, I don’t know them.’

‘You don’t,’ he acknowledged. ‘I’m sure they’re good people, though.’

I nodded. I wasn’t sure of anything, but I supposed there was nothing wrong with hoping for the best. ‘What are Stephen’s parents like?’

Lewis smiled, sitting down next to me for a moment. ‘They’re nice. Good sort of people. Stephen’s an only child so they’ve always doted on him. They were very supportive when he came out. He was only fifteen at the time, actually.’

‘Wow. They sound awesome.’ I finished peeling the first potato and put it in the large cooking pot that stood on the table. Then I started in on the next. ‘What about yours? Will I get to meet them at some point?’

Lewis made a face. ‘I’m afraid not. We . . . don’t really get along very well. My mum passed away a few years ago and my father hasn’t acknowledged me since I came out. He didn’t even come to our wedding, not that I expected him to.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry I brought it up.’

‘That’s okay,’ he said. ‘You deserve to know, and I would have told you sooner or later anyway. They’re very religious. Pentecostals. Gay is not okay in their books and they were essentially expected by their congregation to break all contact with me when I came out. No one I knew from that community speaks to me, except one of my brothers, who’s not a member anymore either. But I’m all right. I’ve had nearly sixteen years to get used to it. It’s just the way things are.’

Sixteen years. Longer than I had been alive. ‘Yeah, but . . . still. I mean, I know what it’s like, kind of. To . . . to not get along with your family.’

Lewis put his hand on mine, halting my peeling, and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘You are a kind and gentle soul, Daniel. I hope you understand how much we appreciate you.’

My face felt warm and I looked down at where his large hand covered mine. He removed it and I resumed my peeling.

‘I’m not going to lie,’ he continued. ‘I often envy Stephen his relationship with his parents. His openness and his ability to just be himself. He has never felt the need to hide who he is, even when it’s had consequences. I admire that strength.’

‘Yeah, but you’re strong too,’ I said. ‘I . . . guess I didn’t really thank you, for coming with me to see my mum. For what you said and did. That meant a lot to me. No one has . . . I don’t think anyone has stood up for me that way before, except Michael. No grown-up has ever put themselves out there for me the way you and Stephen have. So . . . I hope you know how much I appreciate you too. Both of you.’

‘I think I do.’ Lewis stood and returned to the cooker. I carried on peeling potatoes. ‘Half the bag ought to do,’ he said. ‘Maybe a couple extra.’

‘Coming right up,’ I said, and smiled.

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Godwin were every bit as nice as Lewis had made them out to be. Mr. Godwin was in his early sixties and Mrs. Godwin in the tail-end of her fifties. Her hair was only just beginning to grey and was otherwise as blonde as her son’s, while her husband appeared to have been darker before he went completely grey, though he had Stephen’s pale blue eyes. They greeted both Stephen and Lewis with hugs and kisses, before turning to me.

‘And you must be Daniel,’ said Mrs. Godwin, smiling kindly. ‘It’s so good to finally meet you. Would it be all right if I gave you a hug?’

I smiled shyly and nodded. She gave me a gentle, motherly hug. ‘It’s really nice to meet you too,’ I said. ‘Both of you.’ I shook Mr. Godwin’s hand and we all retreated into the front room, where mulled wine and an alcohol-free alternative for me awaited us.

‘So,’ said Mr. Godwin, ‘How’s work these days, Lewis?’

‘Bit slow, to be honest,’ Lewis replied, taking a sip of his drink. ‘But that only means I get to spend more time with Daniel, so it’s no big loss, and we’re doing fine financially.’

I looked down into my cup. ‘I hope you’re not taking fewer jobs ’cause of me,’ I mumbled.

‘Not at all.’ Lewis patted my shoulder. ‘It’s out of my hands. Sadly had a client recently who went back on our deal, after I’d done work for them. They didn’t want it, so they feel they shouldn’t have to pay. So I’m fighting them over it. I’ll manage sooner or later. I can be very persuasive.’

‘You really can,’ said Stephen. His parents seemed to miss his sly smile.

‘But didn’t you have a contract?’ asked Mrs. Godwin, looking appalled.

‘Yup. But they feel the contract is void because I couldn’t read their minds and give them exactly one hundred percent what they wanted. Never mind that I told them I could start over, as long as they still paid me for my man-hours.’

‘Horrific,’ said Mr. Godwin. ‘If they won’t budge, you should take them to court, son.’

‘It won’t come to that,’ said Lewis. ‘Like I said, I can be persuasive.’

I wondered if I had imagined the look on his face when Mr. Godwin had called him ‘son’. For a moment, he had looked just like I felt when he or Stephen called me that, or just treated me like their child. I realised that Mr. and Mrs. Godwin had in a sense adopted Lewis. He was theirs now as much as Stephen was. They treated him as though he were their son. It made me feel happy for him.

‘I’m going to check on the turkey,’ said Lewis. ‘Excuse me.’

Mrs. Godwin shook her head. ‘You still leave all the cooking up to poor Lewis, Stephen?’

‘Hey, it’s not my fault I can’t even boil an egg properly. Frankly, I blame you.’ Stephen grinned.

‘Stephen!’ Lewis admonished him from the kitchen. ‘Be nice to your mum!’

Stephen laughed. ‘I’m sorry. Anyway, he’s had a very able kitchen assistant lately in Daniel. Right?’ He gave me a fond smile.

‘You cook, Daniel?’ asked Mr. Godwin.

‘Er, yeah. Kind of had to. For my mum and stuff.’

‘Ah, I see.’ Mr. Godwin’s expression was pained.

‘It’s really okay,’ I told him. ‘It’s a useful skill. In a way, I’m glad I was forced to learn. Means I have a headstart in the whole adulting thing.’ I smiled. ‘It’s bound to come in handy.’

‘It’s good that you can have such a positive outlook, dear,’ said Mrs. Godwin and patted my cheek affectionately. ‘I think you’re going to do just fine.’

* * *

Tuesday, the day after Boxing Day, Lewis and Stephen both took me to the hairdresser. She was Lewis’s hairdresser—a large, smiling black woman with magnificent braids—and I decided the moment that I sat down in the chair that I wanted dreadlocks. It took a really long time, but looking in the mirror afterwards, I couldn’t help but grin. They came to just below my ears, parted in the middle. The hairdresser smiled broadly.

‘You look great, love!’

‘You really do,’ Stephen chimed in. ‘They really suit you.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, looking up at the hairdresser. ‘They’re amazing.’

‘Yes they are,’ said Lewis, in a tone that brooked no argument. ‘You look fantastic.’

After, I went to see Michael, who looked completely stunned at first. Then he smiled and said, ‘Wow, you look great!’

‘Thanks!’

We went to his room and spent some time kissing on his bed. ‘Hm, can’t really ruffle your hair anymore,’ he said, stroking my dreads back.’

I sighed. ‘Yeah, I thought about that. It looks a lot better, though. Tidier.’

‘It does,’ he conceded. ‘I really like it.’

‘Me too. It makes me feel . . . more confident, kind of? I know clothes don’t make the man and all that, but . . . having clothes that fit better, hair that isn’t just a mess, it makes me feel better about myself.’ Stephen and Lewis had bought me a lot of new clothes in the time I had spent with them, in addition to my nice new coat. I had protested at first, but Lewis had reminded me once again of the allowance they were getting and I had relented.

‘You look it,’ Michael said. ‘More confident. Happier. I love that.’ He kissed me, and for a while I lay in his arms, enjoying the warmth of his body, the softness of his lips and the sweet taste of his mouth. I wanted to stay forever.

‘I’m gonna have to get home soon,’ I said with a regretful sigh. ‘My grandparents are arriving around noon tomorrow. It’s a long drive from Dudley, apparently. Like three hours.’

‘Are you excited?’ he asked.

‘Yeah. But . . . kind of scared too. Like, I have no idea what they’re even like. I know nothing about them.’

‘I’m sure they’re really great.’

I nodded. ‘Yeah. I wonder if they’re anything like Stephen’s parents. I . . . I’d love to have them for grandparents.’ I looked away, embarrassed at having admitted it.

‘Well . . . maybe one day soon they will be.’ Michael smiled at me.

I smiled back. ‘Yeah. Maybe.’

* * *

I felt insanely nervous, standing in the hallway waiting for them. Alicia and Franklin Hartman. My grandparents. We had just heard their car pull up. Stephen opened the front door.

‘Mr. and Mrs. Hartman,’ he said with a broad smile. ‘It’s lovely to meet you. I’m Stephen, this is my husband Lewis. And this is Daniel.’

My grandmother smiled. It seemed a bit cool. ‘It’s nice to meet you,’ she said. She spoke in a Caribbean accent. Her husband echoed her, but his accent was a broad West Midlands. Or at least I assumed that was what it was. I didn’t really know anyone from that region. They were both in their fifties, or so it seemed. My grandmother’s hair was still quite black, though my grandfather’s was salt and pepper, as was his beard.

‘Please, come inside,’ said Lewis. ‘Let’s have a seat. Would you like coffee? Tea?’

‘Coffee would be nice after that drive,’ said my grandfather.

‘I’ll go make some.’ Lewis disappeared into the kitchen, and the rest of us sat down in the front room.

There was silence for a little while. I felt their eyes on me and looked down at my hands. I wasn’t sure what I had expected. A more enthusiastic greeting than this, but perhaps they were as nervous as I was.

‘You’re fourteen,’ said my grandmother at last.

‘Er, yes,’ I said. ‘Fifteen in May.’

She nodded curtly. ‘Chantal must have been pregnant when she left us.’

‘Yeah,’ I said softly. ‘Yeah, she was.’ I looked up at her. ‘You haven’t talked to her?’

She scoffed. ‘She wouldn’t take our call.’

‘I’m sorry.’ I paused, looking at my grandfather and then at her again. ‘Er . . . what do I call you?’

My grandmother frowned. ‘Grandmother and Grandfather, of course.’

I nodded quickly. ‘Okay. Grandmother.’ The word felt odd on my tongue. Not ‘Granny’. ‘Grandmother’.

‘Was the drive all right?’ Stephen cut in.

‘Not too bad,’ said Grandfather. ‘Was a bit worried about the weather conditions, but it was no problem. Snow’s mostly melted on the motorway.’

‘That’s good.’

‘What do you do for a living?’ Grandmother asked Stephen.

‘I’m a teacher. Physical Education.’

‘And your . . . husband?’ I didn’t like her tone of voice as she said it, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on why.

‘He’s a graphic designer. Freelancer.’

‘I see.’

The room grew quiet again. Then Lewis returned with the coffee and some biscuits on a tray. I took one, but forwent the coffee. I felt jittery enough already.

‘Right,’ said Grandmother after taking a sip of her coffee (black, three sugars), ‘let’s get down to business, then, shall we?’

‘Business?’ said Lewis mildly.

‘We want our grandson to come live with us.’

My stomach sank. The room was utterly silent for a moment.

‘I beg your pardon?’ said Stephen at last.

‘I believe you heard me. We’re his family. He belongs with us. We’re prepared to give him a proper upbringing. We have a good house, his mother’s old room is still there, just needs some tidying. We’ve already spoken with Social Services.’

Lewis frowned. ‘This is very sudden,’ he said. ‘You need to give Daniel some time to think about this.’

She shook her head. ‘It’s better he just come to us as soon as possible. We’re his family. It’s our right.’

‘Now hang on just a minute!’ said Stephen, his voice rising, but Lewis took his hand and gave him a look.

‘Mrs. Hartman,’ he said, ‘if Daniel wants to stay with us, we will fight for him.’

‘Fight all you like,’ she said. ‘But one way or another our grandson will come live with us. He belongs with his family,’ she repeated. ‘It’s what’s best for everyone.’

They were all talking about me. I wanted to stand up and yell at them to shut up. I wanted to tell them that they couldn’t just go making decisions about my life for me without even asking. But again, like I had in my mum’s living room, I felt so small. Lewis’s words warmed me. That they would fight for me, that they wanted me to stay, was wonderful. But it would cause them so much trouble.

‘Daniel,’ said Stephen gently. I realised that I’d been staring at my lap, clenching my fists into my jeans. I relaxed them. ‘What do you want?’

I looked up, stared from one to the next of them. Stephen, eyes blazing. Lewis, always calm and strong. Grandmother, haughty and determined. Grandfather, looking almost disinterested where he sat. I licked my lips. ‘I . . .’ I couldn’t seem to get the words out. What would I say? ‘I’m not sure, I have to . . . I need to think about this.’

‘We’d like you to come to us on Monday,’ said Grandmother firmly. ‘We’ll come pick you up.’

I felt like I might cry. ‘Don’t I get a say?’

‘Of course you do!’ said Stephen warmly.

‘No,’ said Grandmother at the same time. ‘We’ll clear it with Social Services. Now that we’ve seen you, it’s clear that you’re in need of a proper family.’

‘He has a proper family!’ said Stephen, voice rising again.

‘No,’ said Grandmother again. ‘He does not.’

They left not long after that, and I went to my room. I lay down on my bed, staring at the ceiling, fighting tears. What was I going to do? I didn’t want to leave this place, leave my friends and Michael and . . . my family. Stephen and Lewis, they were my family. It had only been a month, but already I knew it, I felt it. This was where I belonged, but . . . weren’t my grandparents my family, too? Maybe I owed it to them to give them a chance, at least. Still, Monday . . . that was only five days away. The day school started again. The thought of never going back to the school I had feared and hated for months now felt overwhelmingly sad. I had friends there now. Things were better. What would happen at a new school? Would I be the new kid everyone bullied again?

There came a knock on my door and Stephen stepped inside. ‘Hey, pal. You okay?’

‘Yeah,’ I said automatically. ‘I’m fine.’

He sat on the edge of my bed. ‘It’s okay to not be okay, you know,’ he said. ‘This must be . . . it must be difficult for you. I mean, really sudden.’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I guess.’ I turned away from him onto my side. ‘I’m sorry, I think . . . I think I need to be alone right now.’

Lewis cooked his bolognese for dinner. It was just about my favourite food, but I didn’t manage to eat much. I wanted to call Michael, but I wasn’t sure what to say. When he texted to ask how things had gone with my grandparents, I said I would tell him tomorrow. I couldn’t face him. Couldn’t face the thought of leaving him, of it all being over.

I lay in bed for a long time that night, unable to sleep. Pepper snoozed at the foot of my bed as usual. Another thing I would lose if I had to go to Dudley. I got up to go to the toilet. She was roused briefly and looked at me.

‘Go back to sleep, girl,’ I whispered.

The door to Stephen and Lewis’s bedroom was slightly ajar and when I reached the bathroom I heard their voices, talking in hushed tones. I knew I shouldn’t eavesdrop, but when I heard my name I stopped in my tracks, hand on the bathroom door handle.

‘Daniel shouldn’t be forced to make this choice, it’s unfair,’ said Lewis.

‘He wants to stay, though. Right?’ Stephen’s voice sounded almost pleading. ‘We’ll . . . we’ll fix it. So he can stay here with us.’

‘It’s his decision to make.’

‘Not if they have a say, apparently.’

‘I’ll call Social Services again tomorrow and nag them. This can’t be right.’

‘I’ll call them. You’re too calm.’

‘You’re too emotional. Stephen, look at me.’

There was a pause. The rustle of sheets. Then Stephen spoke again, his voice soft. ‘We can’t just let him go.’

‘We may have to. Even if he . . .’ A sigh. ‘All it takes is one homophobic judge.’

‘Fuck!’

‘Stephen!’ Another sigh. ‘Yeah.’

My stomach churned. The familiar fear crept into my bones. My hand shook on the door handle. Suddenly, I clamped my hand over my mouth and rushed into the bathroom, dropping to my knees before the toilet and throwing up again.

They heard me. Soon, both Stephen and Lewis were there with me, one on each side, stroking my back, murmuring soothing words. Then they held me, both of them, and I cried. I cried hard because I knew I had to go. All the trouble they would go through for me, all they had already done for me . . . I had to spare them this. I had to.

I was such an idiot.

Woot! Finally a new chapter! As you see, Daniel's trials are not yet over... But there is more to come. I appear to be finally writing again, so with any luck I'll be able to keep up a posting schedule and finish this thing soon. Already have the next couple of chapters drafted, and have everything plotted out. There will be 57 chapters (!!!) in total, if nothing changes. So this will officially be the longest thing I have ever written. 
Oh, and I have a Patreon now. There are some exclusive updates, excerpts and sneak peeks of things I'm working on, stuff like that. Just thought I'd mention it this one time, in case anyone's interested.
So, I hope you liked the chapter! If you did, I'd love it if you left a comment. If you didn't, leave a comment anyway and tell me why!