Confounded: Part II - 53. Chapter 53

CHAPTER 53 --==Taylan’s POV==--

I got to the dealership at about the same time Dana pulled into the parking lot; she waved at me as I exited my car, coming over.

“Hi Hon,” she greeted me, going for a kiss and a hug.
Returning it, I then leaned back, my arms still around her.

“The kid knows.”
I figured I’d tell her right away, so no surprises.

It hadn’t been a conscious decision to tell Tom, this morning. I kinda just…blurted it out. Yes, that was totally on me, acting/speaking before thinking; I ran with it, with the result better than expected. Not what we agreed on though, his parents and us.

“Ah well, maybe that’s better; springing this on him would only make him go ‘nope, don’t want it’.

“He’d have surprised you then; he thanked us. And yes, he knows you guys are also chipping in. Well, he thinks you are; he doesn’t know this is coming from me.”

**********

During the phone call, when we put the proposition to them that it might be a better idea for Tom to come live with us on a more permanent basis, my brother, always levelheaded and practical, had pointed out certain areas I hadn’t thought about, such as finances. Living the way we did, I hadn’t really bothered about that, having dumped all of that in Mitchell’s lap when I moved in.

It was an eyeopener, to my shame, because I definitely remembered struggling with when I was on my own; having a wealthy partner who takes care of all that stuff had made me complacent and perhaps too easy with spending.

Mitchell and I had a deal; when I came to live here, he gave me free reign of the house, to do whatever I wanted. Redo rooms, change furniture, appliances; it extended to other areas as well, such as fashion (and that is great fucking fun with a 15 year old in the house, I won’t lie!) and social events. In return, he would pay me what I used to earn every month when I still worked for him. Instead of an ‘allowance’, which I hated when he used the word (felt very golddigger-y to me), he came up with that. Which worked for me, somehow. Earning my keep. Hey, a parent does a lot of work! More men should pay their stay-at-home spouses, I think. But anyway, that arrangement was still in place, though I rarely touched my money. It just wasn’t necessary.

About a little over a year ago, Mitchell even had an accountant sit with me, to decide what to do with what had accrued to a nice amount by then; they proposed investing it for me, as a pension or whatever. I don’t remember all the details, I just asked where I had to sign, just to get out of the room; financial crap is boring. You either have funds or you don’t, and then you can buy what you want, or you can’t. I was too used to living care- and worry free to bother. Wow, nice and shallow of me.

So when Roman pointed out his reservations, in terms of financial obligation (college, clothes, car, food, drink, anything that comes to mind raising and supporting a kid), I was reminded of my far too easy life, compared to theirs. My brother owned his own business and had a good income. They didn’t want for anything but were they going to have to pay us monthly for their son’s upkeep? They had saved up for all their kids, a college fund and such, so that part was covered but why pay someone else for that when they were perfectly capable of doing that themselves? It wasn’t necessary.

True. But what would happen if Tom went back to live at home? Jay was a big issue. His relationship with his parents another; and would he revert back to his old behavior once back home? College was an open question; did he want to go? What were his plans, regarding that? Working was also a thing. Roman wanted him to work at the store, to at least give him some income and responsibility, earn his keep.

Lots of issues came to the fore that I, honestly, hadn’t thought about. Reasonable questions I didn’t have an answer to right away, not in that phone call. So Mitchell proposed we’d discuss it for a bit between just the two of us, and see if we could think of a way. In the meantime, so would they and perhaps, between us four, we could come up with a workable strategy.

Ending the call, I really had no idea how to dream up something that might work, quickly and not give my brother additional problems. But then I saw a file or an envelope on Mitchell’s desk, with a name on it that called up a memory. Accountants office. And I got that bulb switching on, right above my head? Yeah, that one. I had money. And an immediate, existential thought right after that; who am I gonna leave my crap to, when my time comes? Hubby? He didn’t need it. Kit? Same, everything would go to him when his old man was busily providing wormfood. I was taken care of, in case that happened before me (some arrangement about me staying in the house until I joined the wormfood frenzy), but what if I was the first to the wriggly buffet? It got me thinking about that, which wasn’t a real nice thought process, but quite real, and I came to this; leave everything I had to my nephews and nieces.

I had husband check my stuff, which he did right away on his laptop, logging into some place and calling up my stuff, and come up with some sort of ballpark guess of the assets I had. He said he’d pass that on to the accountants, for a correct number but for now, he took that total, divided it by five (let’s not forget India, my sisters’ kid) and that would be what I could use for Tom. Far more savvy with this than me, Mitchell explained quickly that it would be easier for him to supply that right now; just create a new account, to track expenses made on Tom’s behalf, done and done. I didn’t have to do a damn thing.

Well; put out that evening, but I would’ve done that anyway. The man is stupidly sexy when he does his brain thing. Seriously. Mad sexy.

It hadn’t taken more than maybe half an hour to talk this through, so we called back to my brother, laid it out to him and, much to my surprise, he’d sounded relieved. Not about the money, but the whole business with Jay and his own strained relationship with Tom; they’d hit that same topic. He’d also feared a return to his old behavior and he wondered how we would go about this. He did want to try and get him to go to college at least, and work. But how to go about that?

“Oh dude, that’s easy; I’m gonna spend so much money, he’ll feel obligated to do anything we want him to do. But; he doesn’t get to know about this. All he will ever know is that you guys are in this with us; leave the rest to me.”

“Oh God,” Dana spoke up, “what is that devious mind of yours dreaming up?”

“You just wait,” I promised. “I’ll play him like a fiddle.”

**********

“Nor should he,” I continued.
I received another tight hug.

“Not a peep from me, but again; thank you from Ro and me.”

“My pleasure,” I grinned, nodding toward the dealer-showroom, “wanna go see if we can stir up some trouble?”

“Always!” Dana answered, grinning, hooking her arm into mine. “I was thinking that neon-pink one, over there.”

I just….oh, come on….I roared, laughing and explained Tom’s own reaction to the same suggestion, as we walked in. One shoulda just heard Dana’s cackle then; obscenely loud and fun!

**********

We didn’t choose the neon-pink BMW. For one; it was just for show. Apparently it didn’t even have an engine. Pity. Yes, we did ask.

Instead, we settled on a five-year old Pontiac GTO. It just…screamed Tom. And would make Kit go kinda ballistic; he’d wanted that, or at least something sporty like it way back then while Mitchell, looking more into safety, got him to go for a Dodge Ram instead. I drive a Honda CR-V.

Unfortunately the Pontiac wasn’t available in pink (yes, we asked that too); he got a bright yellow one, with a monster of a sound. It was a pretty good deal too (yes, yes, I sent info to Mitchell before I closed the deal, with a maintenance package and all that jazz). When we walked out, with a promise to have it delivered at home that same evening (extra cost to have that done after 8pm and on top of that…well, Dana suggested it and I was totally there with her), both Dana and I felt pretty good about ourselves.

“Lunch?” I suggested, to which she agreed.
Following her to a place she knew close by, I parked and waited for her, then we got in, arms joined once again.

“You think he’ll like it?”

“Why don’t you guys come over?” I invited, “it’s your gift too.”

“Again?”

“Why not?” I frowned.

“He might not…”

I interrupted her right away. “Stop that. You’re his mom. You saw how he broke when he saw you. He’ll always want to see you.”
She blinked rapidly and I stopped walking, then hugged her. Christ…fucking kid….

“Hon…he gets no say in who loves him, aight? Mom trumps kid. No say.”

“It’s just….” She began.

Nuh-uh! “No, quit it, right now. No say. None. He’s your kid and you did what you thought best. And he was a complete…jerk, for doing the crap he pulled. He’ll realize that soon enough. He’s growing up, fast. Hon…

I leaned back a little, nodding at my jacket

“Hon, seriously…this is white. You really wanna rub mascara on this? It’s Dolce; you’re committing sacrilege.”
That made her snort again and pull back from the hug, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Sorry.”

Pffft!

“Come on; let’s get you cleaned up. And no more of this. Not your fault. Now come, before they think we’re a couple. Don’t hug me in public, woman!

**********

“God, I’m so sorry about that.”

I smiled. “I’d lie if I said I knew what you feel. I don’t; don’t have kids. Well, Kit, but he’s not a kid. He’s awesome.”

“He’s your son, too.”
Yea, he was. But I got him when he was already half adult, I told her as much.

“Kit was already pretty grown up when I got involved. His own person and very well-behaved. I didn’t really have to do much but steer a little, really..”

“Perhaps,” Dana granted, “but you still were there. Had your own rules, no? Did he never go over them? Challenge you?”

No. Not really.

I’m sorry, okay! The kid was a goody two shoes. Seriously, I got really lucky with him. Always social, including, inviting, asking for advice. He had no secrets for me really, he’d spill them before they even got to that level. Maybe it was because I got him after the crispy socks stage, I dunno. Never encountered those in the laundry. He’d been a clean boy.

His friends though, or rather their parents? Whole different ballgame. The mothers? Mostly total bitches, the lot of em. But I wasn’t about to spill that to Dana, so I nodded.

“Sure he did. I just handled him…differently.”

“How?”
Oh god. I set myself up for that one.

I shrugged. “Dunno. I was a boy once, it was easier to relate perhaps?”
She contemplated that one, then slowly nodded. Phew…

“Maybe I was too loose with Tom. Getting him after Jay, who was easy, I thought I knew how to handle a boy. But he was the polar opposite of Jay.”

I bit my tongue, where Jay was concerned; from what I’d read, that one needed a complete reset to become a human being again, but it wasn’t my place to comment. I knew Roman had read the Facebook© conversation in full, between Tom and Jay. It felt like he might not have shared the whole thing with Dana, which I could actually understand; it wasn’t an easy thing to suddenly find out about someone you thought you knew. Someone you love.

“I don’t think you were too loose with him,” I answered carefully, “when boys discover they’re different, they might withdraw…”
She frowned.

“Do you mean Tom being gay?”
I nodded.

“Noooo. Oh gosh, no, never. I think I knew before he realized it himself.”
Really…
Dana chuckled.

“Trust me…when your son suddenly starts taking care of himself and certain pieces of fruit start disappearing, and you don’t see obvious trash in the bin; a mother notices.

Oh yikes…that was more info than I was prepared for. That dirty little soldier. And yet so relatable. I remember fruits. They’re fun!

“Hon…” I said, reaching over, putting my hand over hers, “you’re a saint.”

She chuckled, squeezing mine.

“What was I gonna say; please don’t abuse the bananas?”

I snorted at first, coffee almost coming up through my nose. Nope. Full blown laughter then. Oh god…well, screw Dolce white, then. Dana joined in, tears appearing in her eyes again. She used the back of her hands again.

“Never had that with Kit,” I hiccupped.

“Really? Never had a suspicious pie, sitting on the counter?” She needled, making me go to full laughter again. Oh yuck! Seriously!
But I loved that she dared to go there. Meeting her eyes, I could see the mirth in them. We’d never had this connection before, Dana and me. It was so real and funny!

“God, you did not just say that. I can call up, from memory, at least 10 pies…”

She burst out as well, full blown hoot and all that; people were watching.

“Fuck, I wish you hadn’t said that. I don’t wanna think about what I ate…”

“Was it tart?” she hiccupped, getting me going again. Noooooooooo…

“Stop! Just stop! Evil woman….does Roman know he married this evil wench?”

“Why do you think he married me in the first place?” she retorted, eyebrows wickedly rising. Ooooh, my…Roman! You dirty boy!
I continued laughing, shaking my head. Good god…

Gosh, this was new. Horrible woman! In the best way, of course! Wonderful!

**********

This had been the best afternoon I spent with my sister-in-law, ever. Hands down. I hadn’t known she was actually this humorous and self-deprecating. And part of that was not me getting to know her, really. My elder brother had always been a serious, taciturn man; even growing up, he’d always been serious, quiet, withdrawn. I’d always wondered what anyone would see in him, that I couldn’t. Maybe that’s because no one thinks of their brother or sister in a romantic sense; you don’t see what another might see in them. Then again, who really shows themselves to family, huh?
We parted that afternoon with an appointment a few hours later, at our house, when the car would be delivered.

I, for one, was looking forward to it.