The House Always Wins - 11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

The following morning I spent with Olivia. She asked me to escort her to some of the stores; she needed a few items she'd forgotten to bring with her. We strolled around for a few hours, window shopping and just talking; it was very informative. We ended up in one of the restaurants, to rest, and to have some tea and coffee. She was quite talkative about her son, and I learned quite a bit about him.

Olivia elaborated about his time at Eton, back in England, and later on at Harvard. "I remember when he came home during one of these American holidays, and told us that he had a boyfriend. I was afraid my husband wanted to die right then and there. It took him some time to get used to it. But he loved him very much, and Michael loved him to bits. When his father died he was devastated."

I felt a bit of envy about that, about the way they handled it, and told her so.

"My parents weren't so...accepting," I explained when she asked why.

"I see. What did they say?"

‘My step-dad threw me out and told me never to come back. They're religious, so it goes entirely against their beliefs. My mom wasn't there at the time, so I didn't get the chance to speak to her, but I know she shares his views."

"Oh, you poor dear; and you haven't spoken to them since? Do they know that you and Michael are together?" she asked.

"No. I wanted to call my mom, to at least let her know that I was okay and that I had met Michael, but I haven't found the courage yet," I replied, spinning the lie faster than a spider.

I'd need to tell Michael this, so he'd know in case she asked him about it, but if this went on, I'd forget my own lies.

"Maybe I can help. Would you like me to talk to them?"

I shook my head quickly; noooo, no, no, no...did I mention no yet?

"No, thank you; I'll do it when I'm ready to face them."

Olivia smiled.

"Make sure that you do, Jason. They're the only parents you have. Do you have any other relatives? How about brothers? Sisters?"

I shook my head.

"A lone child, just like Michael," she said, thoughtfully. "I can see why you two have found each other."

"You can?" I asked.

"Of course! Two lonely ships, passing in the night. Tell me; how did you meet him?"

"We met online, actually. On the Internet?" I didn't really know if she even knew what online was but she nodded. "We talked for a few weeks, and then one day, he had a business meeting in Los Angeles, where I come from. So we arranged a date. I was a little scared, because I'd lied about my age and work. I told him I was 25."

"Why did you lie?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Because...I dunno...the guys that are usually there, in the chat-room where we met, are older. When he told me he was 35, I didn't want to ruin it. We got along real well, we just...connected. I didn't want to endanger that, so..." I shrugged. This was the story we had discussed on using, if the subject ever came up. "Anyway, he came to LA, and we met."

"What did he say when he found out?" Olivia asked.

"He wasn't happy about me lying about my age. But, like I said, we connected on so many levels, and I was able to convince him to look past the age difference. It wasn't easy, but I got through to him eventually."

"I see. Jason, what do you do, actually?"

"I'm a student, but I'm taking a break," I answered. "Trying to decide on my major."

It wasn't that far from the truth, actually. I had taken a break for that purpose, to decide what I wanted to do with my life, before my step-dad kicked me out.

Olivia nodded and looked at her watch. She started.

"Oh my, we'd better hurry upstairs. Michael must be wondering where we are."

I checked mine, and saw that it was well after lunch time. I told the waiter to put our refreshments on the house tab, as instructed by Michael, and we quickly made our way upstairs. He was indeed already there, pacing the room as we came in.

"Where the hell were you two!" he said gruffly, stalking towards us.

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist," I said with an overdone British accent, causing Olivia to cackle, "Your mother needed some things, and we ended up in one of the restaurants. We gossiped about you, of course." Sometimes I take it just a little too far for my own good. He stopped dead in his tracks, his face immediately taking on a guarded expression.

"Relax, darling, let's have lunch," Olivia said, pulling her son with her to the elevator.

Michael eyes went from her to me and he silently sent me a questioning look. I held up my thumb, indicating everything was fine.

**********

The afternoon I spent alone with Olivia again, who admitted a secret pleasure for soap operas. I wasn't supposed to tell her son about it, but whenever she came over, she would watch a few of them daily. She found it relaxing. I joined her in the mind-numbing experience of watching girls get pregnant three times a year, people dying and miraculously coming back to life, and spending half their lives in a hospital with fictitious and ridiculous diseases.

Olivia had situated herself in the corner of one of the sofas, and I had taken up the other corner. At some point, we had both dozed off, with Olivia having her head resting peacefully on the back of the sofa, while mine was still resting on my hand. It was getting dark. That's how Michael found us, when he came up to change for dinner. I woke when Michael gently shook my shoulder. I stretched and yawned.

"Hey," I said, feeling a bit stupid. "I guess we dozed off."

Michael rested his elbows on the back of the sofa, leaning forward. He had loosened his tie and taken off his jacket. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up. He looked tired. He pointed at his mother and put a finger on his lips.

"Let's skip dinner downstairs tonight," he whispered. "I know that there are some microwave meals in the refrigerator; if you trust me, I might even try to prepare them."

Just then, Olivia stirred and opened her eyes. "Oh my," she said, blinking a few times. "What time is it?"

"Ten o'clock," Michael said, without even glancing at his watch and pressing his lips to my cheek. His mother looked at him, shocked. He laughed and told her the real time.

"You...," she sputtered, indignantly pointing a finger at her son. "Scaring an old woman like that. Jason, I hope you'll reciprocate when he's my age!" But she smiled, shaking her head.

"I'll see what I can do for you, two years from now," I replied dryly.

Michael growled at that, picked up his jacket from one of the barstools and disappeared in the dark hallway.

"I haven't seen him this relaxed in...well, ages, really," she said, turning to me. "What have you done to my son?"

"Me?" I asked, uncertain. Uh-oh...

"Yes, you. Whatever you did; keep it up. I prefer this son, over the distant busy one, any day."

I blushed, and mumbled something unintelligible back.