Food for the Soul

by Ceri Grenelle

  Now she had two men she was quickly growing to love, and she had to ward off both men and women from them. Yes, what a mess. A wonderful, sexy, happy, and beautiful mess. She and Flynn may have gone to bed in an argument, putting their discussion on pause to sleep at ease, but she still wouldn’t trade her situation for the world, including the pain Flynn’s angry words had caused.

  She hummed to herself as she got all the fixings out to make pancakes, some with chocolate chips or strawberries on top. She didn’t know what Ben liked for breakfast, but she had a keen desire to spoil him. Flynn probably wouldn’t be too happy with an unhealthy breakfast, but he couldn’t begrudge her one big and sugar-filled meal every now and then. They were celebrating, after all.

  As Harper began to mix the batter, the back door that led off to the large backyard she’d yet to explore opened. A heavy tread came toward the kitchen, a slight shuffle from one of the feet giving the walk an odd and discordant cadence. She looked up as an older man stopped as he came around the corner. She smiled at him, not wanting to give him the impression that she was an intruder.

  She was more than relieved she’d had the sense to throw on a pair of jeans under Flynn’s shirt she was wearing. A house with a grandparent and a small child was no place to be running around bare-assed, no matter how much she’d liked doing it at Theo’s.

  “Good morning,” she said pleasantly. “Coffee is ready, and I’m heating up the griddle for some pancakes.”

  The man eyed her warily. He was as tall as Flynn, if not taller, with the same green eyes and tanned skin. His hair had clearly been a dark blond but was now showing the signs of age with half of the strands painted gray and white. He would have been as attractive in his youth as Flynn was. Before last night, Harper could never have imagined Flynn with such a forbidding frown. She put that thought out of her mind, reluctant to recall the ugly words he’d yelled at her.

  “Where’s Ben?” was all he replied with. His voice was full of gravel, as though he’d spent his entire life yelling until he was hoarse.

  Harper ignored the tone of his short response and continued to stir the batter. “I checked in on him about twenty minutes ago. He was still asleep. I’ll wake him once breakfast is ready. Can I pour you a cup of coffee?” Harper wasn’t one to play the domestic type with a man who, from what she’d gleaned from Flynn, hated those who were what he considered abnormal. Bigots weren’t exactly friendly breakfast partners. But this was Flynn’s father, and if she could help make him see that all Flynn was doing was living his life and loving those he wanted to love, then she would do a bit of acting and pretend to be a happy Susie Homemaker.

  The man nodded. “Sweet, and there’s some of that almond milk in the fridge.”

  She didn’t know what to call him. She supposed introductions would be prudent. “I’m Harper,” she said as she poured the hot liquid into a large cup labeled World’s Greatest Grandpa. She placed the cup in front of him, then followed it with a cup of sugar, the almond milk, and a small teaspoon. She would pour him a cup, but he could damn well fix it how he liked it himself.

  “Call me Mitchell,” he said, not seeming to care that she hadn’t completed his order.

  “Mitchell, Ben speaks of you often.”

  That got a small grin out of the man. “He’s a good kid, will grow up to be a strong and smart man. That kid is the best thing that’s happened to me in a long while.”

  She’d turned back to the griddle as he spoke and began to cook the pancakes. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. His father is a strong and smart man.”

  “Yeah…”

  Harper cut him off before he could say anything that would piss her off. “I mean, think about all that he’s accomplished in his life. Putting himself through college, in an economy that was on a steady decline, ensuring his family is taken care of, and then taking in a surprise son! Not many men would do that, Mitchell. If they had money, they would pay for the child to go away, and if they didn’t have money, they would throw the kid out on the street.”

  “Speaking from experience?” Mitchell asked.

  “Not personal, though I’ve had my share of drama. I run a soup kitchen and help center for the despondent of the city. Sometimes these kids come in needing someone to talk to, and when you hear how their families have tossed them aside for no good reason, you thank God for the life you have and the ones who love you.”

  “You get along with your family?”

  “On and off. But just because we fight doesn’t mean I don’t know they love me. We fight because they love me.” Flynn’s angry face flashed through her memory. “I have enough sense to recognize that at least.”

  “What if you know what they’re doing is wrong?”

  Harper cut the pretense. “Unless Flynn has raped, tortured, or murdered someone, then there should be no wrong great enough to emotionally abandon your child. I was a teen runaway, Mitchell. I put my family through hell for seven years. And yet they still love me. Why is that?”

  “I can’t agree with some…things.”

  “Fine, don’t agree with him.” She pointed her spatula at him. “But don’t treat him like a pariah. He’s your only son, and he’s a good man.”

  Mitchell nodded, looking slightly repentant. Harper was jumping for joy on the inside. She’d made this old curmudgeon see a bit of sense. She’d made progress! Perhaps Flynn could be happy in his home again. Harper, feeling rather generous and ebullient, picked up the decanter to pour him a little more coffee, and as she lifted her gaze from the mug, she saw such a shift in Mitchell’s expression, she would have sworn there was a ghost behind her.

  She looked over her shoulder to see Theo carrying a chatting Ben and Flynn right next to them, his arm around Theo’s waist. Theo’s shirtless waist.

  They stopped short in the doorway, Theo’s expression one of surprise, while Flynn seemed downright pissed. She had to cut this off before the shit started.

  “Good morning, gents and little gent,” she said loudly, using her voice to cut through the impending argument. She placed the decanter back into the coffeemaker and stepped toward Ben with her arms outstretched, reaching for him.

  “Look who’s joining us for breakfast, exactly what you wanted, Ben!”

  “Grandpa!” Ben screamed, his joy palpable.

  She took him gently from Theo and set him on the floor, releasing him to go run toward his grandpa after giving him a kiss on his nose.

  “You’re gonna eat pancakes? Harper promised me pancakes today!” He lowered his voice in a conspiratorial whisper. “She promised chocolate pancakes. Don’t tell Daddy.”

  “Don’t worry, Ben,” Theo said, coming forward to pick up the spatula and man the griddle. In all the fuss, she’d forgotten about the batter, and there were four burnt pancakes sizzling away behind her. “We won’t tell your dad about the chocolate pancakes, like we won’t mention that Harper, the self-professed greatest cook in the world, has burnt her so-called first-class pancakes.”

  She grabbed a kitchen towel to swat him with but was stopped by Flynn wrapping his arm around her shoulder and leaning into her ear.

  “Are you all right? Did he say anything to you?”

  “Yes, we spoke. It wasn’t terrible. I think I can make him come around,” she said quietly.

  Flynn pulled away from her ear, and she felt sucker punched as he looked at her with a defeated smile. “You’re sweet to try, but you can’t fix everything.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek, lingering for half a second before moving away. She bit her lip, feeling a hot stone blossom in her chest.

  Flynn began to pull the plates and silverware out of the cupboards and placed them on the kitchen island. “Did you take your prescription this morning, Dad?”

  “Yes,” he grunted, his focus on Ben as the little boy chattered away about the sleepover he’d had with Theo and Harper.

  “And then Daddy made dinner, and we watched a movie, and we told bedtime stories, and Theo gave me a bath!�
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  Mitchell’s mug slammed onto the counter, hot coffee splashing onto the surface. His angry gaze finally found a target, narrowing on his son. “You let one of your…friends give your son a bath?”

  “Theo’s a doctor. He knows how to take care of children. It was fine. Not everyone I know needs to take ten child-rearing courses before hanging out with Ben.”

  “That’s not what I meant, damn it!”

  Flynn froze. He seemed to be in shock, finally understanding what his father had been insinuating. A disgusting, awful assumption about those who loved people of the same sex, something only an ignorant bigot would hint at. Theo must have heard, but he kept his back to them, continuing to cook the pancakes. The pleasant aroma wasn’t enough to keep the rising tension at bay. Harper felt sick to her stomach as Flynn rose from his seat, staring his father down.

  “HOW DARE YOU,” Flynn growled, having never felt as ashamed of his father as he did at that moment. What must Theo be thinking? How offended could he be? “These people are my guests, they are my friends, and yes, Dad, to your disgust, they are my lovers.”

  “How dare I?” His father stood, coming around the counter to stand toe-to-toe with Flynn, like a real man would, as he would say. “How dare you bring these heathens into the house with an impressionable mind! They could influence Ben, infect him with their sins.”

  “Oh, shut up.” From the corner of his eyes, Flynn could see Theo and Harper pulling Ben, who had begun to cry, from the room. Ben always cried when Flynn and his father fought, and Flynn did everything in his power to avoid fighting with Mitchell in front of Ben, but what Mitchell had said could not go ignored. “You’re not fucking religious. All this shit about sins does not hold for you. You were a democrat until the reality of a bisexual son and what it meant stared you in the face. I can handle your judgment and your insults, but I will never allow you to say those things about the people I care for.”

  “You don’t know what he was doing in that bathroom with Ben. He could have touched him—”

  Flynn grabbed his father by the collar of his shirt and slammed him against the fridge. “You finish that sentence, and you will be out of this house and on your own like you were before I dragged you from the poverty line after you fucked up your life. Theo is a good man, an honorable man, a better man than you. I trust him to influence Ben in more positive ways than I do when you are with him.”

  “You disgust me,” his father whispered. “I will never understand you and the filthy things you do. I’m ashamed. You’re not my son. You’re not a man. You can hide behind your money and your big house and all your friends, but I know you best. I remember when you were weak before you learned to fake it and be something you’re not. You’re as low and dirty and poor bred as I am, but you’re worse because you deny it.” Mitchell pushed himself loose, Flynn too weak from the verbal blows to protest.

  “You can try as hard as you want, but the only good thing that ever came from you is that boy, and he’s probably not yours. I won’t let him be touched by whatever it is you’re infected with. That’s why I stay, to make sure there is someone here who can take care of him like a real parent.” He left through the back door, his final words hanging in the air.

  Flynn’s heart was ice. He’d have thought after years of this sort of thing, the same self-righteous oratory over and over, that he’d be immune to the pain. But it always hurt, and it always would. He wanted his father’s love, had cried and begged for it as a kid. The emotions he’d never been able to hide had proved his father’s point, that he would never be a real man, that he could never actually protect the ones he loved.

  “Flynn?” Harper’s voice sounded far away.

  “Where’s Ben?” he asked, still facing the fridge where he’d manhandled his dad. God, what was he doing? He had no right bringing others into this shit show. It was bad enough Ben had to deal with it, but to voluntarily link Harper and Theo to his father, if only by association, was criminal. Look how he had yelled at Harper the night before. He was becoming like his dad already.

  “Ben’s fine. Theo calmed him down. You should see how he works his magic on the kid.” When Flynn didn’t respond during her pause, she continued. “He’s playing in his room now; we have the baby monitor on.”

  Flynn nodded, steeling himself before turning to face her. She looked concerned. Of course she did; she was a good person. Good people didn’t stand by and allow their relations to trample all over their lovers. After the way he’d treated her the night before, she still stood there supporting him.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled to himself, looking over at the now cold griddle, where uncooked pancake batter dribbled onto the metal surface. It had started out as a better morning. At least most of last night had been good.

  “What?” Harper asked, taking a step forward.

  “Look, I’m sorry. I know it’s rude, but after something like this, I need to be with Ben. He gets fragile after seeing Mitchell and me argue.”

  Flynn walked past Harper quickly, giving her a small nod as he went. He ignored the touch of her hand skimming his arm as he passed. Theo was in the living room, looking at the pictures of Flynn’s family. There weren’t any pictures of him and his father together, but there were frames filled with a smiling Mitchell and a gleeful Ben. There was no doubt Mitchell loved his grandchild, but was that enough to give him a free pass for all the misery he caused?

  Theo turned around upon hearing Flynn’s footsteps. He was fully dressed now and had his arms crossed, but that was the only bit of body language he gave away. He was bottled up like Harper had feared might happen. Flynn had been wrong about a lot of things.

  “I heard what you said to Harper, about needing to be with Ben. Do you want us to leave?”

  No, don’t leave. Stay with me forever. I’m tired of sleeping alone and placing all my hopes and dreams onto the shoulders of my kid.

  “I think, after everything, that might be best. For everyone.” He couldn’t blame Theo for wanting to leave after what Mitchell had alluded.

  Theo held out his hand for Harper to take. She was dressed as well and picked up her purse from where she’d left it on the couch the night before.

  “Are you sure? We don’t mind staying while you speak with Ben. Theo, tell him—”

  “This is a time for father and son, babe,” Theo said. The endearment sounded hollow, lacking its usual flame. “Flynn will call us when he’s ready?” Theo eyed Flynn as he and Harper reached the door. “Right?”

  Flynn nodded, gathering every ounce of energy he had to force a smile. “You bet.”

  Harper glanced back at him one last time, shrouded in hurt and worry, and then they were gone. Flynn waited until he heard Theo’s car drive down the road before gathering his courage and walking upstairs to Ben’s room.

  Ben sat on his bed, leafing through one of his favorite picture books about cows going on strike. Ironic, as the book taught children how to compromise and negotiate, something Flynn and his father never seemed able to do. He never should have brought Harper and Theo here, into the home where he could never truly be himself. It had destroyed everything.

  “Daddy, where are Theo and Harper?”

  Flynn lay down on Ben’s small bed, and the little boy crawled over to rest on Flynn’s chest.

  “They had to go home.”

  “Where’s Grandpa?”

  “In his cottage in the back.”

  “Are they gonna come back?”

  Flynn knew he meant Harper and Theo, not Mitchell. “I don’t know. Grandpa said some mean things to them. He made me mad, but I shouldn’t have argued with him in front of you. I’m sorry if we upset you.”

  “You shouldn’t have argued at all.”

  “Have I ever told you how smart you are?”

  “All the time. So?”

  “You’re right, we shouldn’t be arguing. But sometimes adults can’t see eye to eye on certain issues, and the fighting bursts out of us like a firecracker
.” He kissed Ben’s curly locks. “I’ll try to be better.”

  “You’re already the best. Love you, Daddy.”

  “Love you too, kid.”

  Flynn promised he would be a good father, supportive and strong, no matter who or what Ben chose to be as he grew.

  “Theo and Harper are my favorite of all your friends.”

  Flynn sighed, a heavy burn stinging his eyes.

  “They were mine too.” Could maybe still be his, if he had the strength to do what needed to be done.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Theo scratched his head as he filled out some paperwork he was a couple of weeks behind on. The hospital administration had been up his ass about it, and he couldn’t figure out when they thought he should fill this shit out. Between stab wounds and emergency births by women who didn’t know they were pregnant, he was beat. This whole week had been miserable, and he hadn’t seen Harper or Flynn for five days, not since that awful morning.

  He couldn’t get the expression on Flynn’s face out of his mind. He’d looked defeated, as though everything his father had said of him was true and he should give up and believe it. And what had he and Harper done? Slunk away and left when Flynn had asked them to. Theo thought at the time that he shouldn’t get involved, that it wasn’t his place. But that was the cold and alone version of Theo. Who was he now?

  That bastard Mitchell didn’t understand what a miracle he had in Flynn. He’d missed a lifetime of joy with his son because he feared what he didn’t understand. And it was fear, not hate, that kept him from loving Flynn.