Chapter 13
“HELLO, Rose. We’re so glad you could make it.”
Before Hank left, Scott had been frantic, telling him to take his time coming back from the ferry. Now, Hank stood behind his mother and watched his husband welcome their guest, Hank’s face beaming with pride at all the work that Scott had done to make Rose feel welcome. He’d spent the better part of this past week, the week since they’d returned from their honeymoon, cleaning and dusting and washing and scrubbing, all to please Rose, to help her forget the difficulties that Hank had brought to her life since his return almost three months ago.
Of course, no one actually put it in those words, but that was how Hank felt about what was happening. He’d not heard from Sandra or their father again. And it hadn’t taken him long to realize that his mother was lost in some sort of funk. It had actually been Scott who’d managed to get her to tell them the truth. Leave it to Scrappy, Hank thought as he took his mother’s luggage up to the larger of the two spare bedrooms. He could have made a hell of a living as a spy, what with the way he has of putting people at ease, making them open up like he does.
Hank walked down the hall, passing the bedroom he now shared with his husband, looking into the room as he passed by. It was still the same room, but somehow, it felt different. He’d felt it immediately upon returning from Sooke Harbor. The air was somehow different, the feel of the linens different—even their lovemaking felt different. And all in a very good way. It was as if Hank was finally able to breathe, to take in as much oxygen as his lungs could hold. It was silly, he knew, but it was the only way to describe how he felt after the wedding, after telling all of their assembled friends and family what Scott meant to him. Freer, Brian had said to him when they’d been speaking of the wedding just yesterday. Brian had told him that while the wedding itself could be stressful, the day was when married couples always felt as if everything that had come before disappeared.
Of course, Brian had also told him that those days didn’t last long before there were other kinds of stress: mortgages, kids, daily discussions and compromises, even about little things like whether to stay in or go out. Since that hadn’t happened to him and Scott since they’d been living together, Hank just figured it was Brian’s way of venting about the uncertainty of facing such things at his age.
Hank made his way back downstairs just in time to hear his husband and his mother. They were deep in conversation, and when he heard what they were discussing, he shook his head and wondered, again, how he’d managed to find the perfect man.
“Rose, you are a guest here,” Scott was saying as he shooed his mother-in-law out of the kitchen. “You are not to do any work during your stay.”
“Oh, now,” Rose responded quickly. “Now what kind of a guest would I be if I expected you boys to wait on me hand and foot?”
“A normal one,” Hank said as he sneaked up behind his mother and wrapped his arms around her. “And I wouldn’t bother arguing with Scott.” Hank backed out of the kitchen, taking his mother with him. “He can be a very scrappy boy.” Hank saw his husband look up from putting the final touches on dinner, and offered him a wink.
“Dinner will be ready soon, but, Rose, if you’d like to take some time to unpack or rest up, Hank and I will just keep it warm until we can all eat together.”
“Goodness, no; I’m just fine.” Rose patted her son’s cheek as he released her. “This is quite a treat, not having to cook dinner.”
“And it gets better.” Hank pulled out a chair for his mother and then sat in the chair opposite hers. “Scott’s almost as good a cook as you are.”
Rose blushed and giggled as if she were fifteen again. Hank felt Scott’s hand land on his shoulder and give it a squeeze.
Scott took the seat beside Hank and reached into his shirt pocket for the envelope that contained the four free tickets to Eggs Over Easy. He passed it to Hank under the table, not sure if they should give it to her now or later. Scott had decided to let his husband make that particular decision.
“We’ve planned a few surprises for you this week, Mom.”
Hank watched his mother bring a hand to her cheek. He’d witnessed the same movement at least a hundred thousand times while he was growing up. It meant that she was worrying that people were worrying about her, and they shouldn’t be.
“I’ve got a big project to work on this week, so I can’t be home every day, but Scott will be able to take you to Victoria and to see some of the other sights on the island. And when I can, I’ll be home to be with you two.” Hank looked over at Scott, who was nodding and smiling at his mother-in-law.
“Now, Henry, you do know that I’ve been to the island before.”
Hank schooled his smile and nudged Scott with his elbow. Just last night, Scott had wondered aloud how strange it was going to be to hear Hank addressed as Henry. Hank didn’t understand what was so amusing about it, but Scott evidently found it to be quite entertaining. “I know, Mom, but that was how many years ago?”
“Henry’s father brought me here for our honeymoon,” Rose explained, her eyes focused on Scott. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t say here, but Victoria.” Rose’s smile faded somewhat at the mention of the man who had chosen not to accompany her. “I’ve always wondered how much everything would have changed after all these years. I’m excited to see if I’ll recognize anything at all.”
“Well, Scott has some pretty exciting, jam-packed days planned for you.”
“That’s so sweet of you, Scott… of both of you, but I’ll be just as happy to sit around here and do some knitting or some reading, if you two have other things planned.”
“Nonsense,” Scott said, his smile sincere and sweet. “I’m looking forward to seeing everything through your eyes.”
“Henry tells me that you grew up on the island?”
“Yes, born and raised,” Scott announced proudly. “As a matter of fact, when I was growing up, all the houses and townhouses in this area didn’t even exist. This whole area was nothing but fields.”
“That sounds like heaven right now,” Rose said as she shook her head. “The city has just gotten so big and crowded for me. I’m afraid I’m not much for living on top of my neighbors.”
“Were you born in Vancouver?”
Hank wanted to mention to Scott, as he had before, that his mother had been born on a farm in Saskatchewan, but as he watched his mother fall under Scott’s spell, he realized that this one little thing—asking questions even though he already knew the answers—was what made Scott so irresistible to everyone who was lucky enough to meet him. Hank passed the envelope back to Scott, pushing it between the hard wooden seat of the chair and his thigh. He let his hand linger there for a moment, delighting in the slow flush that crept up his fair skin. Scott was the one who’d managed to get the tickets, so he should be the one to present them to Rose.
Hank heard the timer in the kitchen go off and began to rise before Scott stopped him, explaining that he would look after dinner while Hank took his mother upstairs to show her the room and to give both of them a chance to get ready for dinner. As his husband stood and brushed by him, Hank rose slowly, one hand managing to find its way to rest on Scott’s perfect ass and offer one quick squeeze before Hank’s hand was empty again. They hadn’t really talked about how they would handle sex while Hank’s mother visited, but Hank was pretty sure that there would be a lot of silent fondling and quick, stolen moments in the bathroom—or whatever room was furthest from Rose at any given time.
SCOTT puttered and fussed in the kitchen, wondering again why he’d chosen to try Yorkshire pudding on such an important evening as this one. They hadn’t turned out as well as they usually did, and it wasn’t that they were inedible this way, but Scott had wanted everything to be absolutely perfect. He quickly sorted through them to eliminate the ones that had that strange kind of wetness on the inside and found eight really good ones. He was pretty sure that he and Rose would only be eating one each, so he hoped
that Hank would be happy with the remaining six. If he wanted more, he’d have to settle for the wet ones.
Scott was busy trying to decide, looking closely at one of the puffs that hadn’t made the cut, if they were actually wet or if the ingredients, combined with the heat, had conspired to make them appear plasticized. As he heard Hank return, with Rose chatting lovingly about what a beautiful home Hank and Scott had made, Scott abandoned his investigation and started organizing the table with roast beef, mashed potatoes, julienned carrots, green beans, and the surviving Yorkshire puddings.
“My sakes,” Rose exclaimed as she reclaimed her seat at the table. “Scott, this is absolutely stunning. I could definitely get used to this.”
“He’s something, isn’t he?” Hank caressed Scott’s cheek as he deposited the last dish on the table and took his seat. Scott couldn’t help but glance over at his mother-in-law, hoping that he wouldn’t see any discomfort. He didn’t know why he was surprised to see a pleased smile on her face at her son’s show of affection.
The meal passed quite quickly, as far as Scott was concerned, anyway. The evening had been filled with chatter about family history, Rose embarrassing Hank by telling stories from his childhood and his subsequent years as a bit of a rabble-rouser in junior high and high school. Scott had sat through one story after another, always waiting to find out what horrible things Hank had done, only to hear the end of the story and wonder what awful things Hank had, in fact, done to earn himself a reputation as a rabble-rouser. One such story began with a twelve-year-old Hank putting toilet paper all over the neighbor’s trees the night before Halloween, only to end with Hank paying off the “damage” by offering free lawn cutting and snow shoveling services for an entire year.
Scott figured that had probably been John’s idea, since even Rose didn’t seem to think the stunt had caused any damage at all. “But then, your father always expected so much more from you,” Rose said as she sat and sipped her coffee. She’d initially refused the dessert of vanilla ice cream sprinkled with fruit slices but had relented when she learned, from Hank, how long Scott had been in the kitchen, slicing and cutting. And so she’d taken one small scoop of ice cream and placed a handful of blueberries, her favorites, on top, savoring it and telling Scott again and again what a good cook he was.
It was an awful thought, one that Scott banished from his head immediately—or almost immediately—but he found himself wondering yet again how someone like Rose ended up with someone like John. Rose was the ideal wife and mother, the ideal friend, the ideal dinner guest. She was so attentive to Scott and her son that anyone would have thought that she was entertaining in her own home. Scott couldn’t think of one off-putting word that had come out of her mouth, no matter when he’d been with her. Rose is so much the opposite of John, in every way. Even after one meeting, Scott had found Hank’s father to be… odious was maybe a little too strong, but certainly true nonetheless. But Rose? Scott was completely enchanted by her. She was kind, selfless, and had such an infectious laugh that he’d found himself, more than a couple of times, laughing at a story from Hank’s childhood that he’d obviously not been witness to, but laughed just the same, because Rose’s bright, lilting laugh was mesmerizing. As the three of them went into the living room, Scott wondered if she ever had the opportunity to laugh in her own home. Scott seriously doubted it.
When Scott came out of the kitchen, having taken a few minutes to wash, dry, and put away some of the larger pots and start the dishwasher, he carried with him a fresh cup of coffee for Rose, the elegant saucer she’d been using holding the small envelope with the tickets.
Scott sat next to Hank on the sofa and leaned back against the big arm he felt there. As Rose eyed the envelope, her puzzled expression disappeared and was quickly replaced by a soft intake of breath. She looked up at both Hank and Scott and smiled, her eyes moist. “You remembered?”
“Of course,” Scott said and felt Hank’s arm move forward until it was resting completely on Scott’s shoulders. “I hope you enjoy it.” Scott watched Rose open the envelope very slowly, as if she were afraid it was all a cruel joke and the envelope contained nothing at all. “You’ll be able to take three people of your choosing.”
“Oh, dear,” Rose said suddenly. “I’m afraid I don’t have my glasses.”
“I’ll get them,” Hank offered just as quickly, getting to his feet and moving toward his mother, something Scott found odd. Her glasses are in her purse in her room. “But if you want them for what I’m thinking, I wouldn’t bother. I blackened the price on all four tickets.” Scott realized why he’d been moving toward her at that moment and felt relief that Hank even teased his mother.
“You,” Rose exclaimed and swatted Hank as he knelt down beside her and kissed her cheek. “Stop teasing your mother.”
“I have to. Scott won’t let me tease him anymore.” Hank kissed his mother again quickly and then stood to return to Scott’s side.
“Maybe you’ll be the one who can teach Henry some manners.” Rose was looking at Scott, the pride and love for her son quite plain on her face.
“I think if that ever happened, I’d probably die from sheer surprise.” Scott closed his eyes reflexively as Hank wrapped an arm around his neck.
“If you two are just going to pick on me….”
“Your husband and I are just teasing you, Henry. You were always such a good boy, and now I see you’ve grown up to be a wonderful man.” Rose’s face was awash with pride and love for her son and what he’d become. Scott wasn’t sure about his husband, being too scared to look up, but he was just about to start crying.
“Thank you, Mom.” Hank was out of his chair and kneeling beside his mother again to embrace her and kiss her flushed cheek. “I love you too.”
“Well,” Rose announced finally, pushing herself to her feet, Hank’s big hands hovering nearby as if he expected her to need assistance. “I think I’ll retire for the evening.” She walked over as Scott stood, and embraced him firmly. “Thank you for inviting me… and the exquisite meal. Yorkshire pudding is one of my favorites. And thank you for these tickets.” Rose held up the envelope in one hand while she brought the other to Scott’s cheek. “Would it be impolite of me to ask the two of you to accompany me to the musical?” Rose turned to face Hank. “I know they’re not your thing, but… well, you see… I don’t think Sandra or Kathy want to go with me anymore, and—”
“I would love to go with you, Rose.” Scott had reached out and taken his mother-in-law’s hand, not wanting to hear any more about how her family might be giving her the silent treatment because she chose not to ignore Hank.
“Thank you, dear,” Rose said as she patted his hand. She turned to accept her son’s arm. “Now, Henry, I know you’re very busy with all of your new responsibilities at work, but Scott and I would love to have you along.”
Scott saw Hank turn toward him and smile, shaking his head. “I would love to go with you, Mom.” Hank walked up the stairs behind his mother, and Scott bit his lip when he heard Rose chatting all the way up.
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the three of us had a real evening out? We could go out to dinner and then to the musical.”
Scott heard the voices disappear, Hank reassuring his mother that they would do exactly that. He and Scott would rent a hotel room and spend an entire weekend with her. They would not only make an evening of it, but an entire weekend, as well. The last of the details were lost to Scott’s ears, but regardless of what they were, he would ensure that Rose got everything she wanted.
As he finished the cleaning, Scott thought of life’s ironies. Here was a mother who wanted nothing but her family happy, whole, and healthy and who’d probably lost more than a couple of nights’ sleep wondering why it wasn’t so and what she should have done differently. And then there was Scott, a man forced on her when her son finally admitted his love for him, a man she’d accepted as if he were one of her own children, a man who’d grown up more or less without hi
s own mother, who’d abandoned her family and then died without ever looking back.
I’ll make sure Rose gets whatever she wants, even if it’s a house away from the rest of her family, Scott was promising himself as he felt the familiar touch of his husband. Scott turned and looked up into those green eyes—eyes, Scott had realized for the first time tonight, that Hank had gotten from his mother.
“She thinks you’re just lovely,” Hank whispered as he stole a kiss.
“Can she move in here with us? Or can I buy her a huge condo in that new complex down the street?”
“It is a little hard to take, watching her go through this and knowing it’s because of me.”
“It is not because of you, Hank.” Scott leaned away from Hank, studying his face. “Do you honestly think that this is your fault?”
“No, not really,” Hank said, his voice carrying absolutely no conviction. “It’s just that she’s made a choice, and her husband and her family seem to be punishing her for it.”
“Your mother’s a big girl, Hank, free to make any decision she chooses. It’s not our job to criticize her choices.” Scott watched as Hank slowly nodded, his face a study in contrasts. A thought popped into Scott’s head at that moment, his desire to ease the suffering of both mother and son becoming all consuming. “Of course, if she has an incredible time here and never wants to go back… well, that wouldn’t be our fault, now would it?”
Scott felt himself lifted off the ground as Hank caught him up in a big bear hug, his laughter, deep and rich, filling the kitchen. Scott shushed him and then kissed him, starting to wonder seriously about discussing the possibility of Rose moving to Duncan if her family didn’t get its collective head out of its collective ass.
“It usually takes her a while to fall asleep, likes to read for a bit.” Hank began to kiss Scott’s neck and jaw. “Should we see how soundproof the garage is?”
When Memory Fails Page 13
