In the Fishbowl - 4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks to Jim for editing!

Nicky Davis opened the door of the theater and followed Lacy out into a cold, but bright afternoon. She wrapped her arms around herself, tightening her white coat, and as he caught up he reached out to lift her hood over her head. She smiled at him, nudged his shoulder with her own, and together they made their way across the parking lot walking in crooked patterns which effectively caused passersby to move in wide circles out of their path. As they closed in on the gray junker that Lacy fondly referred to as her car, she suddenly broke away from him to jump directly into a puddle of sludge and freezing water, destroying the red boots that Nicky had purchased with her that morning, and then she cracked up over it.

Lacy Chapman was the only girl Nicky knew who would do something like that, and he supposed that it accounted for one of the many reasons why he loved her. She knew when to have harmless (and occasionally messy) fun, and she knew when to act like a lady. She was smart, and sincere, and simply put, she was easy to be with. She was his friend, and while he’d wondered more than once if the love he did feel for her leaned towards the romantic side of the emotion, he’d always been as interested in being her friend as he was in dating her.

This time, spending the day with Lacy had been strictly friendship, and since Nicky felt more relaxed than he had since arriving back in town, he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. She was just as perfect as she’d been when he’d left four months ago, whereas everything else... was everything else.

When Nicky had left his dad’s house, he’d been surprised to discover that he thought of this town, and these people in it, as home. It was a surprise because he’d only moved there a year-and-a-half ago after tracking down his best friend, Owen Dovan. He’d only meant to visit that summer, but with his parents’ divorce creeping into every aspect of his life, he’d quickly found himself in town more and more often, until he finally transferred to finish out the rest of his high school existence with people who he actually liked. He’d lived with Ryan Sader and his family for a while, since Chris Dovan already had a full house with Owen, and Aiden, too, back then. By the time he’d graduated, he was working construction for Jake--a good friend, and coincidently, the boyfriend of Owen’s second brother, Tony; he and Ryan had moved into an apartment together; he’d been dating Lacy; was preparing to start college in the fall; and he was close to friends that he hadn’t had growing up.

But then, his dad had called and for what felt like a split second, Nicky had left everything in an attempt to salvage his dwindling relationship with his family, a relationship that had only seemed salvageable because at one time, it had been the most important thing in his life. If he’d known that attempting to fix a rift between himself and his father would only deepen it, he probably never would have left in the first place. And, if Nicky had known how much things were going to change he might have come back sooner.

At least with Owen and Aiden, Nicky had seen things coming. He’d grown to think of them as one, the kind of couple that was always together unless separated by work or different classes. He’d been surprised when Owen had called to say that he and Aiden were splitting up--something about needing to figure out who they were away from each other--but he’d known ahead of time what to expect. What he hadn’t counted on was everything else. He couldn’t go back to his old job for at least another month until Jake and Tony came back from their trip. Hell, he couldn’t even call Jake and ask for it back because the two of them had decided to communicate by one-way postcards in order to guarantee their privacy. He supposed the couple deserved it, having been so busy the last time he’d been around them, but their absences hadn’t inconvenienced just him. Chris, who preferred to enjoy his nightclub more than having to run all of it, was lost without both of them. He was used to Tony helping him to run the club, and while Owen was doing his best to fill his big brother’s shoes, it wasn’t the same; and without Jake, who’d worked for the brothers even with his contracting jobs, Chris was down his favorite bartender. Though, Nicky liked to think that his own cousin, Kyle, was filling in well enough. But, it was clear that those who weren’t there were being missed.

Nicky supposed that he was lucky that Kyle had a spare room since Ryan had already filled his with someone else. But, he didn’t like feeling like he was imposing on his cousin, and he tended to feel that way more when he was constantly there in the apartment as Kyle came and went from work. But unfortunately, Nicky hadn’t yet worked up the energy to actively search for another job, and going out with his friends seemed difficult because most of them weren’t speaking to each other. Owen refused to go anywhere where Aiden might be, and since Aiden knew it, he’d been avoiding just about everyone except for Ryan and Reilly--someone who Nicky knew very little about, apart from the fact that Reilly was perfect for Aiden’s avoidance purposes since he didn’t really associate with any of their friends. And of course, there was the rift between Lacy and Ryan to be considered because it had successfully placed a gap between everyone; the two of them had always played an important part in keeping everyone together, and now everyone, including Nicky, had been splitting time between the two of them.

But he didn’t want to think about that today. He’d started off his morning shopping for shoes with more females than he could keep up with when he’d joined Lacy and her friends, and he would be the first to admit he’d enjoyed all the attention. Later on he and Lacy had broken free from the group to have lunch where she all but insisted that he tell her about staying with his dad; so when Nicky had listed his complaints, he didn’t feel like he was bothering her with it at all. Afterwards, when she told him that she knew it would all work itself out eventually, he believed her because he knew she believed it, and he even felt better. Though, all of Lacy’s random silliness probably had something to do with that, too. They’d seen a movie together, and now upon Lacy’s suggestion, they were heading to the house that Owen and Chris shared hoping to drag Owen away from the self-induced depression he was likely experiencing on the sofa as he flipped through the disaster channels.

They were still making their way through town, singing horribly out of tune as they made up words to a song neither one of them knew, when Lacy hit the brake hard at a yellow light, causing Nicky to brace himself. Nicky looked at her first to see if she’d lost her mind only to find that someone else had when he looked out the front window.

The tall young man with broad shoulders and a dark head of hair who’d run carelessly in front of the car, flashed a bright carefree smile at them, and blown a kiss at Lacy before taking off again, took Nicky a moment to place.

“Travis,” Lacy grumbled as she was forced to wait through the light, and then drove through with noticeable caution.

“What’s with that guy, anyway?” Nicky remarked.

She sighed. “I don’t know. He’s probably late for work again. I hope it’s not at the video store because our boss is supposed to be in today.”

“Probably wouldn’t bother him, though, right?”

“Right,” Lacy admitted, with a roll of her eyes. “But, that’s Travis.”

“Yeah... so, it true he lets people hit him for money?”

“Kyle told you?”

“He said something,” Nicky explained. “I saw Travis this morning and his face was all messed up.”

“If you get used to Travis, you’ll get used to that, too,” Lacy replied. “My advice--don’t try talking sense into him. He won’t listen.”

“So he really does let people hit him?”

“More than that, I think,” Lacy said thoughtfully. “He tried explaining it to me once. It’s mostly dumb kids looking for more than a punching bag. They pay Travis to tell them they hit like girls and then pay him more to teach them how to do it right. He’s making bigger bullies out of bullies. It kinda sucks.”

“What the hell makes someone do something that stupid?” Nicky remarked, looking over his shoulder as if he expected the idiot in question to be there waving at him.

“I dunno. The same thing that has him challenging guys twice his size to these stupid street fights. He says he makes money off it, like he needs it or something. But the strange thing is, I’ve never actually seen him spend any of it. I mean, he can’t have any more bills than the rest of us, and he’s already got two jobs. Won’t keep a bank account... he’s kinda weird.”

“Kyle seems to like him.”

Lacy nodded. “So do I. He’s just a little hard to get to know. Secretive.”

“So you don’t trust him?” Nicky asked, unsure of how he felt about this guy visiting his cousin and living with one of his best friends.

“No. I didn’t say that,” Lacy replied. “Actually, I think Travis can be a really good friend. He might not know it, but he is. I think the problem is that he doesn’t trust anyone else. I mean, that’s how I see things at least. With Travis... who knows. I’ve never met anyone who likes getting hurt before.”

“You really think he likes it?”

“I think, he does whatever it is that he does... for more than the money.”

Nicky let the subject of Travis drop as they reached Owen’s neighborhood, though, he doubted that this conversation with Lacy would be the last in which Ryan’s new roommate would come up. After all, Kyle seemed to have formed some type of attachment to the guy, and Nicky wasn’t sure how he felt about that just yet.

The house that Chris and Owen Dovan lived in was located in an unlikely place for two bachelors, set in a neighborhood prone to attract retired couples and their cats. But still, they were likely more appreciated by their neighbors than the last tenants, Ryan’s cousin Leo, and Jake, who’d made a habit of throwing parties that often became loud and overextended. Owen and Chris didn’t have time for parties, and when they did they usually held them at The Shadow, so if the brothers had any visitors, it was generally family, or a few guests who were always welcome, and rarely knocked.

Nicky didn’t bother knocking when he reached the front door until he realized that the door was locked, and then he was surprised when there was no answer. He would have said as much to Lacy if she wasn’t busy studying the vehicle parked next to Owen’s truck in the poorly shoveled driveway.

“I know this car from somewhere,” she remarked.

“Owen’s not answering,” Nicky said, but with no intention of giving up and driving away. He moved to the garage, punched in a four digit code, and he waited with Lacy as the door lifted. It wouldn’t have been the first time either of them had entered through the back door. But then as they soon discovered, they didn’t have to go that far.

Owen was in the garage, and he wasn’t alone amongst piles of tools and stacks of wood. He and the owner of the blue car parked next to his truck were on either side of a wooden chair, sanding it down. He looked up at Nicky and Lacy as if he’d expected them to be there all along. “Hey, look what we made,” he said, indicating the chair. But, the chair didn’t seem as nearly interesting as the we involved.

“I knew I knew that car,” Lacy whispered to Nicky, who had a strange look on his face as he continued to watch the situation before him. “That’s...great, Owen,” she said slowly, and then regarded his guest speculatively. “Hi, Dennis.”

Dennis, who had noticed the arrival of Owen’s friends much more than he let on, seemed to understand the strangeness of the situation, even if Owen did not. He tried to give Lacy a nod, but it turned up awkward. She was also one of the people who he no longer knew how to talk to. In fact, now that he thought about it, he’d never known how to talk to her in the past, either. It was a miracle she’d never slapped him for some of... no, he thought. Never mind. She had slapped him.

As for Nicky, Dennis didn’t know him, only that he was friends with everyone who he wasn’t friends with, and that the guy had never liked him. Given the look on Nicky’s face, Dennis could assume that that hadn’t changed much.

“We’re gonna make five more of these,” Owen said, still talking about the chair. “Maybe a table. Shit, do you have any idea how much you can do with wood?”

Nicky cleared his throat, Lacy snorted at that, and even Dennis covered his mouth and feigned a yawn to cover his amusement. Owen rolled his eyes at all of them and stepped forward to grab Lacy’s hand. “Come sit down,” he insisted, more or less flinging her into the chair.

“Oh. Okay,” she said, even as she sat stiffly and became the center of attention.

“What do you think?” Owen asked.

“Um... not bad. Not bad. Could use a cushion, maybe.”

“Huh. We’ll get some,” Owen announced after a moment of consideration, and then looked curiously between Nicky and Lacy. “What’re you guys doing here?”

“Actually,” Nicky replied, “we were thinking about skating or something. Wanted to know if you wanted to come with.”

Owen thought about it for a second as he looked at the mess in the garage, and finally shrugged. “I guess.” He looked at Dennis. “Wanna go?”

This was met with an awkward silence by everyone else in the room as Lacy and Nicky exchanged more bewildered glances.

“No,” Dennis said quickly. It was obvious that he hadn’t expected the invitation, and probably shouldn’t have been surprising that it made him uncomfortable.

“You sure?” Owen asked. “Maybe...”

“I’ve still got stuff to do today,” Dennis cut him off. “I need to go, anyway.” He was already grabbing the heavy jacket he’d left hanging on an upright board. “Um, I’ll see you, Owen,” he added, not sure how else to excuse himself, and he was in his car and gone no sooner than Owen had said his own goodbyes.

Owen watched the blue car disappear, not seeming to notice the confused and somewhat frustrated looks now aimed in his direction, at least until Nicky finally spoke up with the inevitable question, “What the hell was that?”

***

The sun was setting, and the snow-covered ground had set a gray hue over the town. Travis hated this part of the day the most--the thirty-five minutes between day and night. It happened earlier this time of year and always managed to make him feel cold both inside and out as he bundled tighter in his jacket and tried to ward off deep yawns that forced him to slow down.

He’d spent the last five--maybe six (he didn’t really know at this point) hours at the Gordon Dealership. It had been busy, even for a Sunday, and Mr. Gordon had even called in extra help for all the customers. Unfortunately, the business hadn’t put the old man in better spirits. He’d stomped into the lobby shortly after Travis had arrived, yanked the dark sunglasses Travis was using to cover his black eye from his employees face, said a few choice words, and then ordered Travis to put them back on. But, the only two sales that day were made by Travis, and he had two more potential customers who’d promised to come back later in the week, so he wasn’t the one who received the majority of Mr. Gordon’s wrath. Travis felt sorry for the other two sales associates, though. They’d already lost their full-time positions, and when they did come in they always threatened to quit. Usually, that’s why Travis didn’t mind attracting Mr. Gordon’s harsh words and disruptive outbursts upon himself. He could take it. Just, not today.

Today Travis wanted quiet. He’d developed something of a migraine earlier in the morning, and even his own thoughts felt too loud in his head, so when he spotted an older woman popping back aspirin on the city bus, he didn’t hesitate to make friends with her to get three pills out of the deal. It came with a price, though, as he listened to her talk about her daughters for the next ten minutes--one of course, who she insisted would be perfect for him. He was thankful when they reached her stop, but not when she asked if she could have his phone number for her daughter. Deciding not to be rude, Travis gave her a number. It just happened to be Kyle’s, just as the name he gave her was.

He made his way to the back of the bus to stand when more people got on. It was colder in the back, but not as noisy. That alone was enough to keep him there as he needed the quiet in order to think. It took him a few minutes to remember where he was supposed to be going next. Home. Go home, Travis. And then, no, he firmly told his conscience, which sounded an awfully lot like Kyle.

He was pretty sure that he had no working shifts for the day, but that didn’t mean he was finished, and Mr. Gordon had made that clear enough throughout the day. The old man had done his part in getting his rich friends excited about this fight that Travis was supposed to be taking part in. In fact, he’d done it faster than Travis would have thought he would. He even said he had a place to hold it in, since there was no way Mr. Gordon or anyone he associated with would be willing to stand out on Tenth Street with the drunks and the kids who for all intents and purposes should be tucked into their beds with mommy and daddy behind the door. Travis didn’t have a problem with this. What he seemed to be having trouble with involved living up to his part of the deal.

He’d promised a fight. He was pretty sure that he knew a few guys who would be willing to act as the other party in it--if they could sober up long enough, that is. But, he hadn’t bothered to ask any of them just yet. And, that was because Travis hadn’t given up on the person he already had in mind, even if that person wasn’t cooperating in the least.

Travis had thought of tracking Dennis down a few times since they last met, but he’d kept coming up with reasons to put it off, either because he was too busy, or because he didn’t feel like tracking down Dennis at work again. Travis imagined that the last time the guy’d felt ambushed, and that was no way to make friends. But, when Travis spotted a familiar blue sports car stopping at a red light across the street from the back of the bus, worrying about rudely ambushing someone became the last thing on his mind.

Tightening his backpack over his shoulder, Travis pulled the cord, indicating to the bus driver that he wanted to stop. But, he hardly waited for the next stop as he ran to the front of the bus and tipped the driver to let him off right then and there.

He moved out onto the street, keeping a good eye on the changing lights as he made his way through the intersection, slipping on ice and catching himself on the cars of disgruntled drivers. He ended up behind the blue sports car and ran up to the passenger side, grabbed the door handle, and let himself in with an exhausted plop onto the front seat, much to the driver’s blatant shock.

“Hey,” Travis said breathlessly, and then pointed ahead of them helpfully. “Green light.”

Dennis hit the gas more out of instinct than wanting to, and as he crossed the intersection he looked wide-eyed and open-mouthed at his passenger, who seemed oblivious to his bewilderment as he shook out of his heavy coat and shoved the dark beanie from his head into his backpack.

“What are you doing?” Dennis finally demanded.

Travis ran a finger beneath his straight cold nose, reddened from the weather, and then held out his hands to warm in the blowing air from the car’s heater. “Don’t know. Why don’t you tell me--where’re we going?”

Dennis narrowed his eyes and sent a threatening glare in Travis’s direction; one that had little effect and was hard to pull off in the first place, given his need to watch the road. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Could be. So seriously, where’re we going? I was trying to head in the other direction.”

“I don’t give a fuck where you were heading!” Dennis blurted. “What are you doing?”

Travis shrugged. “Trying to make a new friend. Why? Is this weird to you?”

Dennis looked like he was either going to laugh or curse, the way his face was turning an unpleasant shade of red. But, when he spoke, he managed to keep his voice controlled, if not completely calm. “What. Do. You. Want?”

“I was wondering if you’ve changed your mind about my proposal yet.”

“Is this some kind of joke?”

Travis shook his head. “Not really. Why, do I sound funny?”

“You sound crazy!”

“Some could say the same of you. Really, is delivering pizzas that much fun? Because I’m telling you, in an hour you’ll make...”

“Fuck. No.”

“So you haven’t changed your mind yet, then?” Travis asked, unable to hide his disappointment. “Will you at least tell me why?”

“If I do, will you leave me alone?”

Travis considered the question. “No. Nope. Better not promise anything I can’t stick to.”

Dennis rolled his eyes. “Look, John Gordon is the type of man who’d put two roosters in a box and let ‘em peck each other to death. That’s all you are to him, a fucking cockfight for his friends. And you’re an idiot if you go through with it because whether you think so or not, it’ll fuck you up. Maybe not the fight, but he will.”

“So... you’re saying the only reason you won’t do this is because of Mr. Gordon?”

“No. I won’t do it because it’s stupid, and it’s illegal, and because I don’t play anyone’s pit bull, no matter how good the money sounds.”

“It wouldn’t be like that...”

“That’s exactly what it is,” Dennis snapped. “A fight--like the one you’re talking about, you’re letting every one of those assholes own you, win or lose. It’s their game, not yours, and when it’s all said and done they don’t give a fuck about what happens to you.”

“So? It won’t matter by then. I’ll do my thing, take the money and run. It’s nothing. That’s how you’ve gotta think of it.”

“No, you’ve gotta start thinking, asshole. Nothing ain’t nothing with a Gordon.”

Travis sighed his frustration as Dennis turned off the main road. He figured that he was about to be dropped off on the wrong side of town, but when Dennis kept driving up a hill, Travis sat back in his seat. “What’s with everyone hating on Mr. Gordon, anyway?”

“You’ve met him, right?”

“I know the guy’s a little... he’s a prick. But it isn’t like the guy’s not going through a rough time, and I’m the one who came up with the whole fighting thing, so ya can’t argue that I’m being corrupted...”

“No. Just stupid...”

“... but seriously,” Travis continued, not bothering to be insulted. “Where does everyone get off knowing what a jerk he is when they stay the fuck away from him?”

Dennis was silent for several long moments, the muscles in his jaw clenching as he ground his teeth in a way that made Travis a little nervous as he realized that the road they were on kept going up, and the tall trees surrounding it blocked off the view of the city. He’d lost complete track of where he was, and didn’t really care for it.

“I’m not everyone,” Dennis finally said.

Travis, who was still attempting to figure out his surroundings, looked over at him. Dennis was staring straight ahead now, partially covering his mouth with his hand as he seemed to when deep in thought, and when the setting sun hit his profile between passing trees his features looked tense, and his short hair became sandy white waves still messed from the last hat he wore.

“Okay,” Travis said. “Go on then. Explain to me what makes you the expert on John Gordon. Tell me what’s wrong with him, other than that he’s an asshole. We already know that.”

Dennis dropped his hand onto the steering wheel to make another turn, and shrugged one heavy shoulder. “He’s my dad,” he said in words that sounded strained to his own ears. “What’s wrong with him? Where do you want me to start?”

Travis blinked, looked forward, as if the winding road would actually help him clear his thoughts, and then back to Dennis when it didn’t work. “Wait. So, let me make sure I understand what you’re saying here...John Gordon actually reproduced?”

“Twice, actually.”

Travis shook his head. “Well, wonders will never cease, I guess.” Mr. Gordon having any form of offspring just plain struck him as odd. Unnatural, even, though he figured it would be cruel to say as much. “Brother or sister?”

“Huh?”

“You said twice,” Travis reminded.

“I have a brother,” Dennis supplied. “I’m surprised he hasn’t been working with you at the dealership.”

“Uh-uh,” Travis replied with a shake of his head. “Minimum personnel only. Your old man’s so hard up right now he wouldn’t give his own mother a job unless she could close a deal.”

Dennis almost smiled at that. “He wouldn’t give his own mother a job, anyway.” He was silent for a moment, and then his next question seemed as forced as his admission to being a Gordon. “Why’s the dealership in trouble?”

“Oh, it’s not. It’s more like Mr. Gor--yourdad going broke because of his divorce.”

“They’re getting a divorce?” Dennis asked, more shocked than fazed.

“How could you not know your parents are getting a divorce?” Travis responded, but before he thought to get an answer, his attention was turning to the tall house at the end of the driveway they’d abruptly pulled into. “Hey, where are we?”

“Huh?” Dennis responded distractedly as he cut the engine clear of the garage. “Oh. Home, I guess.”

Travis opened his mouth to respond, but didn’t get a chance to before Dennis was out of the car and headed towards the house, leaving him in a rush to get his coat back on before he left the car for the cold air. Looking around, Travis still didn’t have a damn clue where he was, and he didn’t even want to begin wondering how long it would take him to walk back home. No. This would definitely not do.

“Hey!” he called to Dennis, moving his long legs in equally long strides to keep up. “Hold up a sec. I know I did that whole thing where I jumped in your car and all, so technically I brought whatever I get upon myself, but you really have to take me back...”

Travis was cut short when the sound of mixed laughter caught his ears and drew his attention to the side of the house. It had also brought Dennis to a stop, too, and Travis was able to catch up to him in time to watch a line of three tiny, smiling people come around the house in colorful snow suits with sleds dragging behind them. They weren’t really small in height, at least where the two adults were concerned. It was their tiny features: noses, eyes and mouths, all pink from the cold; and curly blond hair--though the woman’s seemed darker than the man’s--that made them all look like something off the cover of a Hallmark card. “What’s with the happy elves?” Travis remarked to Dennis, who shot him a dirty look.

“I rent a room from them,” he said informatively.

“Dennis!” The woman called as soon as she saw them. “You’ve got to come sledding with us! I’m making hot cocoa and then we’re going right back out.”

“Uh, that’s okay, Mrs. Chesley...” Dennis started, but was quickly interrupted when the group of three got closer to them.

“Who’s your friend?” Mrs. Chesley wanted to know.

“Uh...” Dennis seemed lost, obviously not ready to consider Travis a friend of any nature.

“Travis,” Travis said helpfully.

“Yeah,” Dennis agreed. “Travis... these are the Chesleys, Deanna and Paul, and...”

“I know you,” Travis suddenly said, pointing to the smallest of the bunch. The blond hair, bright blue eyes and glasses perfectly fit for hiding behind were all easy enough to recognize. “You were at the club with Aiden.”

“Club?” Mrs. Chesley repeated, looking at her son in bewilderment.

“The one Owen works at,” Mr. Chesley said helpfully. “I told him he could go.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Chesley replied, though it seemed obvious that she and her husband would be exchanging words about that later. “You know Aiden then, Travis?”

“Oh. Yeah. He slept on my couch last night,” Travis explained, and then ignored the strange look Dennis was giving him to flash one of his more charming smiles in Mrs. Chesley’s direction. “Deanna. You know, I can’t remember the last time I went sledding. Are you sure it’s not getting too dark?”

“Oh, we have another hour, at least,” she insisted. “We’re gonna get warmed up before we go back out again, though. Are you coming then?”

“I’d love to,” Travis said cheerfully, and then took it upon himself to step forward and open the front door for the entire family. His eyes met Dennis’s for a brief moment, and it seemed that Gordon was none too happy with him. Good, Travis thought. Maybe the guy would be more than willing to throw a few punches at him before the night was over after all.

***

The club was slow, the music not quite as loud as it was on most nights. It would stay that way for another hour, Kyle decided, when the crowds started coming in. In the meantime, he carried a tray of drinks out to a group of women celebrating a birthday and stayed to talk to them for a while, making them laugh when they offered to buy him a drink and he had to explain that he was old enough to serve it, but not drink it.

He left their table after offering a free round in honor of the birthday girl and made his way back behind the bar. The new girl--older, probably in her early thirties--who Chris had only hired over the last weekend seemed to have things well under control, so indicating to her that he was going to take a break, Kyle grabbed his phone out of the plastic box he kept under the bar and headed up to the second floor, which was used only for small parties, and often doubled as an office and a quiet place where Owen and his friends did most of their studying. He dialed Travis’s number, received no answer, and by the time he reached the top of the stairs, he was staring at his phone as if everything bothering him was answerable to the thin piece of technology. He nearly laughed upon looking up to find Chris sitting at a disorganized table with the exact same look on his face as he glared at his own phone.

Looking up, Chris smiled. “Travis?” he asked.

Kyle nodded. “You?”

“Owen,” Chris replied, sighing. “I don’t know what to do with that kid. I tell him to take some time off because he’s looked like a zombie ever since breaking up with Aiden, and he decides it’ll be a good idea to turn my garage into a workshop. You wouldn’t believe all the crap that’s in there right now. He made one little chair and he’s already talking about furnishing the whole house. Here, I want you to look at this.”

Kyle moved to the table when Chris held out a long, laminated menu, tried to figure out what he was supposed to be looking at, and then finally shook his head. “We don’t serve more than half of what’s on here.”

“I know,” Chris replied. “Not yet, anyway. It’s one of Owen’s projects. He realized there aren’t any half-decent restaurants within a block of us and he thinks we’ll increase profit if we start serving lunch before the club opens. We’d have to bring in enough business to cover at least four hours of labor and expenses to open that early, but he thinks it’ll work, and I think it’s gotta chance.”

“Yeah? So when do we start?”

“I don’t know yet,” Chris replied as he took back the menu and kicked out a chair to invite Kyle to sit. “I think I’m going to talk to Owen first. If he can handle it with school I’ll put him in charge of it. Maybe then he’ll leave the garage alone and we can park our cars in it again.”

Kyle smiled. “I think he can handle it, and hey, don’t get too upset about the garage. At least Owen’s out doing something productive. Nicky’s getting bored at the apartment, and Travis... well, Travis is Travis.”

“Why don’t you tell Nicky to come work here? He can help Owen out, and it’ll keep him busy until he goes back to school.”

“I thought of that. The problem is, Nicky wants to do something on his own. He was so proud of himself for getting a job with Jake before Jake even knew about it.”

“He can’t go back there?”

“They’re short on work because of the season and told him he’d have to wait for Jake to get back.”

Chris shrugged. “Offer him a place here, anyway. Maybe he’ll take it until he finds something else, and you’ll have one less thing to worry about.”

Kyle nodded. “Yeah. Okay... look, I want to thank you for offering Travis that job. I’m sorry he... he’s Travis.”

Chris laughed. “You keep saying that.”

Kyle rolled his eyes. “I know. And sometimes I think I shouldn’t worry about him, you know? It’s not like he’s always had someone trying to look out for him before.”

“Maybe that’s why he needs it,” Chris suggested.

“Maybe. But he sure as hell doesn’t like it. You know, the only reason he turned down this job is because he knows I’m the one who wants him to work here. He won’t even consider the fact that he’d be better off working full-time here than he is at both of his other jobs... and I keep thinking, if he’d just settle down in one place maybe he’d knock off all that other crap he’s into. You know the other night when he was here, I saw him charge some poor woman for a dance.”

Chris snorted, shaking his head. “Well, you did say you wanted him to work here... just do me a favor and make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Already taken care of. Look, I’m gonna get back downstairs. Should be getting busy soon.”

“Come get me if you need me,” Chris said.

Kyle nodded and headed down, dialing Travis’s number once again, only to make him ready to dump his phone in the nearest waste bin when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

***

Travis was pretty sure that he’d succeeded in giving the Chesley parents a heart attack. Twice each, for sure. Of course, he refused to believe that this was all his fault. He was just trying to have a good time, and it wasn’t as if he’d told Reilly to get on his sled past that first time. Reilly had simply been smart enough to figure out that he got the best ride with Travis, who’d quickly discovered that the narrower part of the hill in the Chesleys’ back yard took him straight down to the highest drifts and best chances of catching air. Besides, Reilly was enjoying himself. His laughter was that of a child’s, unabashed and open, but he didn’t seem to be the fragile boy everyone treated him as. He also sat perfectly with Travis on the sled, adding just enough extra weight to send them flying down the hill.

Travis was succeeding in having fun, too. He realized that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been sledding was because the closest he’d ever come to it was sliding down an icy street on a garbage can lid as a boy. But, it was easy enough to get the hang of, and even when it became too dark to see the trees he didn’t want to stop. But of course, by then Mr. and Mrs. Chesley wanted to get inside, and so did Dennis, for that matter. It was obvious enough that taking a sled down the hill was considered a waste of his time, though he’d tried it out twice that Travis had counted. Travis was a little surprised when Dennis chose to wait when the Chesleys finally called Reilly in. Travis had said that he was going down the hill one more time, and Dennis had made his way over. From the look on his face, there was half a chance he was going to tell Travis to make sure he didn’t come back up the hill, but Travis didn’t let him get that far.

“Get on,” he commanded, as soon as Dennis was in earshot.

Dennis stopped on the packed snow, if only because Travis had told him to do otherwise.

“Get on,” Travis repeated, making room on the sled. “I’ll show you how you’re supposed to do this.”

“You think so?” Dennis responded, his brow lifting below the blue ski-cap Mr. Chesely had given him to wear.

Travis nodded. “I do. You’ve been pussyfooting around this hill for the last hour.”

“Yeah. Whatever,” Dennis said, stepping closer to the edge of the hill. “I have a better idea.”

“Doubt it.”

“You put the sled away, I’ll drive you home, and you promise to stay away...”

Travis must have lost interest in what Dennis was saying because after studying the tall imposing force that stood above him carefully enough to make a few carelessly guessed calculations, his hand flew out, he grabbed Dennis Gordon’s wrist and with one strong tug, pulled him completely off balance.

Travis managed to keep Dennis from hitting the sled face first, or from going straight over it, but the force of his body sent them sliding down the hill sideways, Travis laughing and Dennis cursing before they straightened out. But still, together they were too big and the first bump they hit sent them both rolling down the hill ahead of the sled, Travis sliding to a halt before running head first into a tree, and Dennis into a snowdrift that wasn’t as nearly as packed as it looked.

Gasping and unable to suppress the deep chuckles escaping him, Travis ran forward and didn’t waste time in digging Dennis out, only becoming more amused when he caught his victim spitting snow from his mouth. When Dennis looked up at him, Travis held out a helping hand as he caught his breath, but it was rebuffed when Dennis shoved it aside and struggled to his feet, everything in his posture looking ready for retribution. But, Travis was more interested in what he saw in the guy’s face, because even if Dennis refused to laugh... something in him wanted to.

But instead, Dennis righted himself without any offered assistance and started trudging up the hill, leaving Travis to jog after him.

“Oh, come on! You’re not mad!” Travis informed him as he caught up and placed a hand on Dennis’s shoulder.

The only response he received was when Dennis turned suddenly and shoved him backwards. Travis landed conveniently where the sled had stopped, belly down, and the snow toy took him down the hill all over again. He was still laughing ten minutes later when he caught up to Dennis again at the front of the Chesleys’ house where he was slowly stripping off and shaking out his layers of clothing. He paused when Travis got closer, his expression cautious and accusing.

“Tell the truth,” Travis said. “Do you smile when no one’s looking?”

“Tell the truth,” Dennis retorted. “Do you like it when people want to do violent and unpleasant things to you?”

“That depends. Have you changed your mind yet?”

Dennis’s mouth clamped shut, and as he shook the snow out of his sweater he turned away from Travis in an obvious dismissal. “Do you ever listen?”

“Sometimes. He’s your dad. So? You didn’t even know he was getting divorced, which tells me that you probably never see him, so there’s a chance he won’t even recognize you if...”

“There is no if,” Dennis snapped. “Drop it! Alright? You don’t know him, you don’t know me, and you have no idea what I went through to get him out of my life! Fuck you if you think you’re going to bring him back now!”

Travis took a step back. “Wow. You’re upset.”

Dennis huffed his exasperation, and the action of removing his shoes became a violent action as he continued to avoid Travis’s eyes. “What has to happen to get you gone? You need me to drive you home, or wherever the hell else you need to go?”

“I could walk,” Travis mused, understanding that he’d worn out his welcome, and not letting on that he minded... if he actually did. “But I got a little turned around on the way up here, and it’s dark now, so you’d probably have to point me in the right direction.”

Dennis looked over his shoulder long enough to realize Travis would actually start walking if told to, and once again found himself shaking his head. “You’re going to walk? If your fighting bullshit works so well for you, why don’t you have a car?”

“Because I don’t have a driver’s license.”

“What?”

Travis might have explained that announcement if Mrs. Chesley hadn’t suddenly opened the door to look at the two of them. “Oh, Dennis, do that in here,” she insisted when she saw what he was doing. “We’ll mop up later.”

“That’s okay,” Dennis insisted. “I can...”

“Just come in,” she pressed, moving outside to herd him in, and while she was at it, she waved for Travis, too. “Travis, I want you to stay for dinner. It’s the only way we’ll get Dennis to sit down and eat a meal with us, and Aiden should be here any minute. We’ll all have a nice meal together.”

“Actually,” Dennis said quickly, as if it were important to come up with a quick excuse, “I told Travis I’d take him home.”

Travis raised an eyebrow at Dennis. “You never said that.”

Dennis glared at him. “Well, I will.”

“No need to put yourself out,” Travis remarked. “I can get a ride back with Aiden.”

“It’s really not a problem,” Dennis said forcefully.

Mrs. Chesley laughed.

“Then we all know someone will get Travis home. After dinner. Dennis, please go dry off before you make yourself sick.”

“I’ll go with you,” Travis offered, and if it were possible, Dennis had the nerve to look like his night had gotten worse.