22

sebastian

 

“Oh my God. There’s a pig on the couch,” Tabby hissed from beside me as I cracked the front door open.

“Yes, Tabby, I’m not blind,” I muttered in reply before calling into the house, “Mom? Dad? Anybody? We’re—”

“Bastian!” Dad ran into the living room wearing his mucked-up overalls and carrying a little pink piglet in his arms. “Come in, for crying out loud! You don’t need to wait for an invitation, you know that. Jeez Louise, kiddo, it’s like you’re a stranger around here.”

I pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped into the house. “Yeah, yeah. I know. I just didn’t wanna walk in while you guys were, I dunno, naked or something. Don’t need to be scarred like that again.”

“Did you say hi to Mildred?” he asked me, gesturing toward the fat, sleeping potbelly pig on the couch.

“Hi Mildred,” I grumbled, lifting a hand in a halfhearted wave.

Satisfied, Dad caught sight of the woman beside me and the kid lingering behind us, and I imagined what a stranger would think, looking at us. They’d assume we were a family, two parents with their child, and the corners of my mouth twitched at the thought. Dad knew better though, and he stepped toward us with his rosy-cheeked grin.

“Here, kid, take a piglet,” he said to me, shoving the squirming little thing into my arms before pulling Tabby into him without warning. “You must be Tabby. I’m John.”

“Tabitha,” she corrected, voice muffled by the bib of his overalls. She hugged him though and with warmth and comfort. “Sebastian’s the only one who insists on calling me Tabby, and I hate it.”

“Ooh, watch this one, son,” Dad laughed, releasing her from his grip. “She’s got claws.”

“Trust me,” I chuckled, smirking coyly and catching Tabby’s eye. “I’ve already had the pleasure.”

She blushed, and I’m pretty sure I was too, as I dropped my eyes back to the piglet. Scratching it behind the ears.

“And this handsome young man must be Greyson.” Dad’s voice was coated in affection. “Are you too old for a hug?”

Hugging the grunting little pig to my chest, I watched Greyson as he took in the sight of my dirty father. His balding head, baseball-mitt hands, and cheery smile. I wondered what Tabby’s parents—his other grandparents—had been like. Judging by his reaction to Mom and now Dad, I guessed they weren’t overtly affectionate. He responded with a rapid shake of his head and released a wobbly exhale as Dad wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Greyson settled against him, hugging stiffly before letting go and stepping back, crossing his arms and brushing his hair from his eyes.

Dad touched the ends of his shaggy blonde hair. “You’re like your father with this long mop,” he scoffed affectionately. “Burgers and dogs okay with you guys?”

Greyson shrugged as Tabby nodded. “That’s great,” she replied, smiling politely. “Thank you so much for having us.”

With one thick finger, dirt haloing the nail, Dad pointed at her. “That’s the last time you’ll treat yourself like a guest in this house, young lady. As my grandson’s aunt, you are officially a part of this family, and you are always welcome here. Got it?”

She faltered for a moment, his comment had shaken her. Hell, it had shaken me, too. But she bobbed her head once, smiling and blinking away the tears collecting in her eyes. “Got it,” she said, her voice tight.

“Excellent. Now,” he turned to Greyson, “your aunts, uncles, and cousins are out back, so come on. Might as well get the introductions out of the way now, so you can get into the fun stuff.”

Greyson looked immediately intimidated, and I laughed. “Dad, don’t scare him away. I only just got him to not hate me.”

“I never hated you,” Greyson protested, shaking his head and scowling.

“Bullshit, kid,” I eyed him skeptically.

“I’m cool,” he said to my dad, and with a triumphant glare from my father, he led Greyson to the backdoor, leaving me with a piglet and my Thumbelina.

My Thumbelina? What the fucking hell?

I turned to her, proffering the squirming baby. “Wanna hold him?”

“It is cute,” she conceded, holding out her arms. I handed him off to her and as she stroked his head, she commented, “So, your parents keep a pig in the house.”

Glancing toward the still-sleeping Mildred, I nodded. “Yeah, they went a little crazy after my sisters and I all moved out. Empty nest syndrome or some shit. I think it’s insane, but … you know …” I shrugged a shoulder and turned away from the snoring pig.

Tabby hummed before saying, “I don’t think they’re crazy. Actually, I think they’re pretty amazing.”

“Yeah, they’re not bad,” I relented, nodding. “I got pretty lucky, I guess. What were yours like?”

With a halfhearted shrug, she held her gaze on the pig in her arms. “Um, they were okay. I mean, I loved them—they were my parents, you know?—but they were older when they had us. My dad was fifty-one when they had Sam, my mom was forty-two, and I’m three years younger than she was.”

“Wow.” I crossed my arms, genuinely interested. “And they both died this past year?”

A shadow of sorrow was cast over her features as she smiled, still petting the piglet. “Yeah. Dad was eighty-four and died a week before Thanksgiving. Mom was seventy-five, had cancer, and basically decided to give up after Dad was gone. She died in January.”

Jesus Christ. “I can’t imagine loving someone so much that I’d just give up on life if I didn’t have them anymore,” I muttered, looking to the wall and finding myself faced with a picture of my parents on their wedding day. How convenient. “My parents married when they were nineteen,” I divulged. “I’m the youngest of four, and they had me when they were in their late-twenties, and I’m now thirty-six, so that gives you an idea of how long they’ve been together.”

Tabby nodded. “I bet your parents would be lost without each other too, then. They probably don’t even remember being apart.”

I shook my head. “No, probably not. My sisters are all the same way, too. My oldest sister married her husband when she was twenty, and the other two weren’t much older than that.”

“So, you’re the black sheep,” she teased, reaching out and poking my stomach, letting her hand linger there for a moment before pulling back. The woman was obsessed with my stomach.

“Yep,” I nodded. “They actually have a black sheep out back named Bastian.”

“Oh, shut up,” she grumbled, taking the first step to head in the direction in which my dad had taken Greyson. “Anyway, my parents weren’t the most affectionate. I mean, they loved us and all, and they cared for Greyson, of course. But, they believed in a, uh … a more distant affection, I guess. Or maybe they were just too old to be bothered, I don’t know. But, um …”

With a shallow gasp, she stopped in the middle of the dining room, facing the French doors that led to the backyard. “I’m glad Greyson has this now. We never did, and I know that, even though Sam never wanted you involved for whatever reason, I know she’d be happy that he has a family.”

I looked through the paned doors at my three sisters, their husbands, and their slew of children, all greeting Greyson with hugs and handshakes. Two of my nephews were somewhere around his age, about his height and clapping his shoulders with enthusiasm, encouraging him to follow them. He went, and fuck me, I choked up.

“I was thinking …” Tabby began with a deep breath. “Maybe when school lets out, you’d want him to stay with you.”

I looked to her abruptly, remembering what Greyson had said about her not wanting him. “Tabby, I just met him a few days ago. I don’t know if he’s ready for that.”

But she shook her head adamantly. “I’m not saying definitely. We have about a month until then. But, I mean, if he wants to, then what do you think? It would be helping me out a lot, now that I’m dealing with the sale of the Worthington house and Roman’s—”

Somewhere after she mentioned Roman, I stopped listening. Why did she call it the Worthington house, as a title, and not Jane’s house? Why did she call it Roman’s house and not the Dolecki house? Why in the fucking world did I even give a shit what she called it?

“—could be good for you too,” she concluded, turning to face me.

Not having a clue what she’d said, I only asked, “And where would you be?”

“Uh, well, I’d be at home, unless I was working at Roman’s, in which case I’d be ...”

“With me,” I finished, not even caring about the possessive tone in my voice.

“While I’m not working, yeah, sure. Probably.”

A summer. Two and a half, maybe three months of Greyson and Tabby. Months of life inside my house, months of having someone to come home to.

I found myself smiling and nodding. “Yeah, this sounds good. If Greyson wants to.”

 

***

 

“Tabby, I love your hair,” Mel gushed, boldly undoing Tabby’s braid and running her fingers through the auburn strands the way I had just this morning.

“Ugh, I love your shirt,” Dinah chimed in, bouncing Jen’s new baby on her hip. “I miss when I had a cute body.”

“Yeah, seriously, I love your body. Don’t have babies,” Jen groaned, rolling her eyes toward her husband Greg.

What I gathered was, my sisters loved Tabby. They were all immediately infatuated with everything about her. I hung back with my brothers-in-law, watching the lovefest from afar, as I slowly nursed a beer. Greg shook his head at his wife and turned to the rest of us.

“Can I remind you guys that she’s the one who insisted on having kids? I would’ve been totally cool with getting a dog,” he grumbled, reaching into the cooler for his second beer. “But no, she needed a family. She thought it would’ve been so sad to not procreate.”

“Dude, you’re preaching to the choir,” Steve agreed, nodding. “I mean, I love my kids. They’re cool, but I mean, I could’ve done without the orthodontist bills.” Both of Steve and Mel’s sons had gotten braces at the beginning of the year. It was college or straight teeth, but Uncle Sebastian was going to help where he could. “I’d always thought you got off easy,” he chuckled, jabbing my ribs with his elbow, “but uh …” He nodded his chin toward Greyson.

“Give me a break,” I grumbled around a laugh. “I think everybody was kinda waiting for this to happen eventually. I can’t spread my seed around without someone getting fucking pollinated, right?”

The trio of brothers-in-law laughed, shaking their heads, and Greg said, “At least you can laugh about it.”

I didn’t mention that I’d known about Samantha’s pregnancy years ago. There wasn’t a point to getting into that story. It would only make them think poorly about Greyson’s mother, for keeping me in the dark for fifteen years, and what purpose would that serve?

“So, what’s her story?” Matt asked, tipping the neck of his beer toward Tabby.

Every bone and nerve in my body tightened as I caught the hungry look in his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“She’s hot,” he commented.

Matt, like the others, was a loyal son of a bitch, and I knew he’d never stray from my sister. That’s not why my eye began twitching. It was that part of my brain that had pulled that our song, my Thumbelina shit out of nowhere. Apparently, it also didn’t like other men calling her hot.

“Yeah,” I agreed with a quick jerk of my head, my fist clenching and unclenching at my side.

“Oh, look at him, getting all defensive,” Greg teased, shoving against my arm before dropping down into a plastic lawn chair.

Steve snorted. “You’re gonna crush that beer, bro.”

I hadn’t even noticed my white knuckles around the amber glass, and I loosened my grip. “I’m not getting defensive,” I insisted, keeping my gaze on Tabby.

“Aww, guys, our little boy finally has a crush on a girl.” Matt emphasized a pout, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me against him. “God, we’ve been waiting for this day since … well, shit, I actually can’t go that far back in my memory. Fuck, I’m getting old.”

“Yeah, you are.” I shoved him off, tipping the beer to my lips.

“Whoa. He’s not denying it. What do you think it means?” Greg shifted his eyes between Steve and Matt. “Should we be scared? Because, guys, I’m scared.”

“Oh, fuck off,” I chuckled, shaking my head. “There’s nothing to confirm or deny. She’s just Greyson’s aunt.”

“Oh, that explains everything,” Steve grunted as Mel approached him. He pressed a kiss to her temple, but her eyes were on me.

“Tabby is uh-mazing,” she gushed, telling me what I already knew.

“She’s cool.” I shrugged, dropping my gaze to funnel all thoughts into the open mouth of my beer. Hell, maybe I could just let that little hole suck me right in. I could disappear and get the hell away from all these eyes on me.

“Cool?” Mel parroted, her tone riddled with disbelief.

I lifted my eyes back to hers, squinting and shaking my head. “I bring a kid home like he’s a freakin’ puppy or something, and all you people can talk about is the woman he comes along with?”

“Oh my God, he’s getting defensive.” Mel clapped her hands against her heart, turning to stare at her husband. “Honey, my baby brother is getting defensive over a girl. Do you know how—”

“We know,” Steve chuckled. “It’s sweet.”

With an aggravated huff, and knowing I wasn’t helping my case, I trudged away from them to stand with my dad at the barbeque. They could speculate all they wanted—I didn’t care—but Christ, you’d think I was Greyson’s age, with the way they were behaving. It’s not as though I’d never brought a woman home before—

Except I haven’t.

Dad glanced at me. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“You look a little pale to me,” Dad commented, nodding. “Ask your mother—she’ll know if you look pale.”

“I’m fine.” I wasn’t fine. “Just tired.” Not tired. Totally rested, actually.

“Ah, yeah. Must still be weird, sleeping in your bed after months on the road, right?”

“Yeah,” I fibbed, nodding and trying my best to look convincing as I shifted my gaze across the yard toward Tabby.

She was talking to Mom, Jen, and Dinah, holding one of the younger kids, one of Mel’s, I think—why could I never keep all those rugrats straight? She was laughing, and just like that, I had to know what they were laughing about. I wanted to hear her, maybe laugh with her. I walked over, abandoning my dad with his hot dogs and burgers, and approached, tunneling my vision only on Tabby.

Witches have that effect on men, right?

“Hey, ladies,” I casually interjected, standing between my sisters.

“Oh, look, it’s our little baby brother,” Dinah teased, standing on her toes and reaching her hand to pull the rubber band from my hair. The blonde mop spilled over my shoulders as she pocketed the elastic. “I hate that stupid bun.”

“Another point for me!” Tabby cheered, raising her arms above her head.

I scowled, shoving the hair out of my face with a thrust of my hand. “Not a single one of these people approves of my awesome head of hair, just so you know. They can’t help that they’re all jealous as hell.” I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder at my bald father. “That guy especially.”

“Oh, you.” Mom swatted at my chest with her hands and I brushed her away with a light chuckle. “Leave your father alone.” She glanced at Tabby and sighed. “He hoped that, when he finally had a boy, he’d inherit his hair genes. John has been balding since his twenties.”

“And instead, he got Fabio,” Jen teased, rolling her eyes and Tabby grinned broadly around a giggle.

“Fabio—I like that one. My friend calls him Thor,” she told them.

“Ah, yes,” I nodded thoughtfully. “I remember Jessica fondly. She treated me so much better than you did when I first met you. You were so mean.”

“You had it coming,” Tabby defended, quirking her lips into a smirk.

“He probably did,” Jen backed her up. “He’s been a pain in the ass since he was born.”

Dad announced not long after that dinner was ready. Mom arranged us around the long picnic table they used for such occasions, putting Greyson in the middle of Mel and Steve’s two oldest sons. He was having such a good time, and that reminded me of the assholes he was hanging out with at school. The ones who made fun of his mother and teased him for not having any parents. A sense of pride for my family rolled over me. That they could embrace this kid they didn’t know, who looked an awful lot like me, even the younger ones who undoubtedly had their questions.

The rest of the kids—ten in all—were arranged in age order at one end of the long table, with the adults at the other. Couples sat in pairs, and Mom insisted that Tabby and I should sit together. I told her it wasn’t necessary, if Tabby wanted to sit beside one of my sisters, but Mom was persistent. It was almost as though the woman could smell the residual effects of sex still clinging to our skin and hair, despite the shower we had taken together before heading over.

“Greyson, you okay down there?” Tabby called, sitting down beside me without batting a lash. He waved her away with a disgusted expression before turning to Johnny, one of Mel’s boys. “Wow, did you see the look he just gave me?”

I laughed. “Yeah, have fun driving home with him in the morning.”

“In the morning?” Tabby turned a startled expression to me. “I have to head home tonight. I need to be in work tomorrow. I have lots of stuff to do, with this new job.”

Not wanting her to see my disappointment, I nodded, and grabbed for some corn on the cob. “Oh, okay, that’s cool. Makes sense.”

“Yeah, but hey, obviously you can come by to see Greyson whenever you want,” she mentioned, loading up her plate with macaroni salad, a hamburger, and some fruit salad.

I grabbed more corn. “Maybe I’ll do that.” And maybe I’d also stop by her work in the middle of the day to act out my fantasy of office sex. “I could stay at the motel again—”

“Why?” she asked abruptly. “I live in a four-bedroom house. Why wouldn’t you just stay with us?”

“I wasn’t sure that was an option?” The uncertainty in my voice made the statement sound like a question and Tabby rolled her eyes as I grabbed for another corn cob.

“We’re past the point of being strangers, Sebastian,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes. “For obvious reasons, and I think you know what I mean.”

“Oh, no, I don’t think you’ve made it clear enough,” I retorted, easily falling back into our banter. “Maybe you should spell it out for me the way you did last—”  

It was at that point I realized our end of the table had fallen silent, with every pair of shifty eyes now inconspicuously aimed at us, as though we’d never notice them listening in on our conversation. I swallowed, and looking down at my plate, noticed that I’d been mindlessly taking ears of corn out of the bowl. Six now sat on my plate, stacked like a pyramid next to the burger I’d grabbed before sitting.

“Jesus,” I grumbled under my breath, and looked up to ten pairs of eyes scouring right through me. “What the hell are you all looking at?”

“Oh, nothing,” Mel chided in the sing-song voice she never stopped using. Her lips quirked into a little triumphant smirk and I resisted the urge to kick her under the table.

“You better be eating all that corn,” Mom scolded, pointing a finger at my plate. “And maybe you want to keep some private matters private.”

The awkward silence that blanketed our end of the table lasted all but a few minutes before conversation picked up again. Tabby talked to my parents about farm living, the guys talked to me about life on the road, and my sisters talked about getting the kids together to go to Hershey Park. It was at that moment when their mouths stopped moving in unison, as though a spark struck them all at the same time, and they turned to me.

“What?” I asked, looking between the three of them while freaking out internally. “You guys aren’t going to try and blow my hair out again, are you? Because remember the last time you did that, I looked like fucking Fabio—”

“Sebastian,” Dinah uttered with excited urgency, “you have a kid now.”

I swallowed. “Well, I mean, he didn’t just happen. He’s been alive for fifteen years and—”

“No,” Jen interrupted. “You should come to Hershey Park with us. Bring Greyson.”

I can imagine my face perfectly displayed the horror I was feeling. “Oh no. Absolutely not.” I shook my head adamantly. “I’m not attending Mommy’s Day Out to talk about mani-pedis and tampons while the kids go on roller coasters, or whatever the hell you guys do. No way.”

“But you never do stuff with us!” Mel whined, throwing her head back.

“Because I don’t want to talk about how cute Ricky Martin is, or whoever the hell it is you guys like now,” I reasoned, diving in to eat every last kernel of corn off my plate. “You guys have a good time and—”

My ears perked up to Greyson’s laugh at the end of the table, and I turned to watch him, frozen and unblinking. He was holding his stomach, leaning over his plate and laughing so hard, tears were brimming his eyes. Why hadn’t anybody told me that would be the most amazing sound I’d ever hear? Not even my first set of DW Collector’s Series drums had sounded as beautiful to me as the purest form of his laughter.

He was accompanied by Johnny and Travis, the three of them sounding so similar as they laughed about whatever-the-hell it was, and Tabby tipped on her segment of the bench, pressing her arm into mine.

“He hasn’t laughed like that in months,” she whispered loud enough for me to hear. “Maybe all year.” Her words caught in her throat, blocked by clotting emotion and she raised her hand to her mouth before excusing herself from the table.

I turned to my sisters, and took a bite of corn as I asked, “So, when are we going?”