Wayward Son (Jensen Family #3)

by Michelle Day

  Another door led off of this room and that’s where he found his closet. Not large but big enough for his needs. He was going to be comfortable here and it was clear that no expense had been spared. Sighing, he sat on the arm of the couch, assessing his situation. It sucked. There was no two ways about it. He’d been removed from everything and everyone he knew and loved and now here he was, stuck with his dad.

  And therein lie the problem. Paul was somewhat of a mystery to him. He’d been witness to the hurt the man had caused his mother but what did he really know about him? Even from his jaded view, he could see Paul was trying. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy to start off with but he was going to try. Providing his temper didn’t get the better of him.

  Returning to his bedroom, he began to empty the bag which contained the majority of his every day clothing. The delicious smell wafting into the room made his gut clench and mouth water. His stomach was certain his throat had been cut. He’d refused food on the way here, idiot that he was. Abandoning his clothes across his bed, he walked quietly down the stairs, following his nose.

  The swinging door into the kitchen opened silently. He stood, not speaking as he took in the room and the mouth-watering smell. To his surprise, Paul, now dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and barefoot, stood dutifully by the hob, stirring a pot while Suzanne plated up. When she turned and reached for the gravy boat, she saw him hovering in the doorway and smiled, beckoning him forward.

  “Er, hi. That smells good.” He mumbled.

  Handing him the now filled gravy boat, she pointed to the table as she picked up two plates. “I hope you like roast beef.” She followed him. “I can make you something else if you don’t.”

  “Who doesn’t like roast beef?” He asked, god he was going to drool any second now if he didn’t start eating.

  Watching the exchange over his shoulder as he put the pans in the sink to soak, Paul held back his smile at the easy way Suzanne talked to his son. Yes, he would be drawing on her help quite a bit.

  After a last check that everything was locked and hovering for a while outside Gavin’s room and hearing no sound, Paul turned towards his bedroom and slipped between the sheets, snuggling close to his wife. Slowly, he began to relax, then it hit him, they had been married for over a month and this was only the second night they had spent together as husband and wife.

  “Suzie. You know I love you.” He started. “I have a confession to make.”

  Turning in his arms, she raised an eyebrow “Oh?”

  Paul nodded and held her hands in his. “I think I’ve killed your car.”

  “You WHAT?” She tried to pull her hands free.

  “Well, it still runs, under protest and it’s favouring third and fifth, it’s not too fond of the other gears though so I think it might be time for you to get a new one.”

  Finally wriggling her hands free, she beat on his chest as her leg came over his hip. “I babied your bloody penis extension all the way home and you go and wreck my car as thanks?” She was trying hard not to laugh. She loved her aging Volvo but even she recognised it was on its last legs.

  “I didn’t wreck it.” He chuckled, “Its still in one piece. Mainly, and it’s not like I could make the bodywork any worse.” He finally sat and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back down with him. “I’ll buy you a nice shiny new one in the colour of your choice and with gadgets, you know things like windows that open AND close without the need for a clothes hangar as encouragement.”

  “You are a bastard Mr. Jensen.” She laughed.

  “But I’m your bastard Mrs. Jensen.” He held her tight as he kissed her, groaning into her mouth as she ground her hips down onto him.

  “I’ve missed you lover.”

  Chapter 2

  Gavin lay on his back. The large four poster bed was comfortable, supporting his body but he couldn’t sleep. Unused to the noises this house made as it settled, he found he was jumping at every sound and the darkness was freaking him out just a little. He’d never been afraid of the dark, not even as a small child but now it seemed to close in around him. The light in his bedroom was too bright so he opened the door to his living room and turned on one of the lamps. Crawling back into bed, he was comforted by the warm glow coming from the next room.

  He jolted from sleep a short time later with the initial thought of “Where am I?” Sitting up, looking around the room, he wondered what had woken him. The noise came again and it was unmistakeable. Paul’s chuckle and Suzanne’s long drawn out groan of satisfaction had his ire rising. Sliding from the bed, He walked out into the hall. No wonder he could hear, their bedroom door was open. Shit.

  Going back to his room, closing the outer door, he hesitated when he reached his living room door but the now muffled moans coming from the room across the hall from his made the decision for him. Closing the door, he felt his way to the bed in the darkened room. Once back under the duvet, his eyes now adjusted to the darkness, he noticed that he was still getting a slight glow from the living room lamp from beneath the door.

  He was trying hard not to resent his father. He knew Paul was an affectionate, passionate man but did he have to do the horizontal shuffle on his first night here? Gavin snapped on his bedside light, too irritated to sleep now. He reached for his bag, found the diary his previous school had provided and flicked through the pages.

  Finding the entry marked BOURNEMOUTH in his untidy scrawl, he flipped over the page and found the entry in red pen that marked Paul’s wedding. There were no further entries. He hadn’t written in it since he’d been airlifted from Bournemouth to his mother’s bedside. Leaning back against the pillows, he gave himself a mental slap, Paul had left his new wife to be at Carmen’s bedside and this was his first night home since that day. Maybe he should try not to be so selfish. He was stuck here for the foreseeable future. It could be heaven or hell. The choice between them was his alone.

  “How did you sleep?” Paul asked, replacing his mug on the scrubbed pine kitchen table.

  Gavin shrugged as he hovered in the doorway. “Ok I guess. This house makes some strange noises but I suppose I’ll get used to them. The people in the house seem to make a fair bit of noise too.” Yeah, had to throw that in.

  Paul reached for his mug as he contemplated his answer. Taking a sip of the steaming brew, he wrapped his hands around the mug. “I must remember to shut the door in future.” He acknowledged his son’s words. “I expect we are going to have quite a period of adjustment. You have to understand, Suzanne and I are accustomed to it being just us. We aren’t in the habit of closing doors but it’s one will we adopt. My error. I apologise that you heard us.”

  “It’s ok.” Taken aback by Paul’s answer, Gavin had been expecting him to snap out a reply, giving orders but he had recognised his mistake and owned it. Making his own mug of tea, he sat opposite his father. “I’m sorry dad. You left here the day after your wedding to make sure I was ok and to be with mum. I have no right to complain about you re-connecting with your wife.”

  “This is your home now. You have every right to complain about what goes on here but know this, I do love Suzanne, deeply, passionately. I won’t be curtailing my activities with her because it offends your morals.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to. I know you love her. That’s blatantly clear every time you look at her, besides it’s not my morals it offends, it’s my ears. I only wish you would have looked at mum that way.”

  “Gavin..”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” Gavin cut him off.

  “You can’t keep it bottled up forever.” Paul countered.

  “I don’t intend to. One day, you’ll get both barrels.” He got up to leave but Paul stopped him.

  “You’ve already given me that and I can take whatever it is you feel you need to get off your chest. I’m here for you son. Even if you think you can’t talk to me, you can. Anytime you want to. I love you. Nothing is going to change that. I know I haven’t been a good father to you.
I don’t know if it’s too late for me to be that, you are almost an adult but I’m going to try. I won’t ever stop trying.”

  Nodding as he took on the words, he pushed open the swing door. “What am I supposed to do here? I don’t know anyone except the family. I don’t have a school to go to or a job. I now have no friends. Am I expected to stay in my room all day until you decide what to do with me?” He stood quietly as Paul put both mugs in the sink and turned back to him.

  “You have free run of the house. I’ll show you around. There’s a pool you can use and a well-equipped gym as well as a music room. We have a meeting with one of the private colleges at the end of the week. They’ve seen your academic records and are eager to talk to you. We also have a few sessions with a counsellor but between now and then, you’ll be with me wherever I go. I’m sorry Gavin but I don’t trust you not to do a runner.”

  Gavin barked out a laugh at Paul’s last words. “I considered it last night.” He admitted. “But I have nowhere to go and no money to get there so it looks like we are stuck with each other.”

  First stop was Paul’s now rather large gardening company. The portacabins had been replaced with a single storey building which housed the administrative staff and the shipping containers had gone in order to make way for a large storage warehouse and workshop. Paul gave Gavin the guided tour before heading into the offices.

  Gavin was surprised to find the offices bright and airy. A radio was playing and there was laughter coming from the staff. Given the nature of the business, the majority of the staff wore jeans and t-shirts bearing the company logo.

  Following Paul to the back of the building, they stopped in an open doorway and Gavin was introduced to his father’s partner Phil who made the initial comment of, “oh you poor sod, you look just like him.” Making Gavin smile.

  Laughing, shaking his head and uttering, “charming.” Paul turned away and opened the door to his own office directly across from Phil’s.

  “By the way, your computer is fucked.” Phil called. “I mean broken. Sorry.” He corrected his language.

  Stopping, dodging Gavin, Paul returned to Phil’s office. “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Don’t ask me. It won’t start up properly. I’ve called the guy but he’s got a back log, he’ll be here sometime next week. You’ll have to use mine.”

  Stepping back into his own office, he saw Gavin Sitting behind his desk. “Gavin?”

  “What’s your log in? I’ll see if I can sort this out.”

  Dragging the spare chair and sitting next to his son, he watched as his fingers flew over the keyboard. Paul didn’t even know there was a black screen where commands could be typed but Gavin was diligently working away. Paul had a moment of panic when Gavin pressed his finger onto the power button and held it there. The computer guy had told Paul never to do that.

  Tapping his fingers as he waited for the machine to boot up again, Gavin glanced at his father who by this time had started signing cheques. “Your computer is so slow. What have you been doing to it? It doesn’t look that old.”

  Paul shrugged. “I’m hardly here anymore. Maybe its feeling neglected.”

  “Uhuh, sure, its feeling neglected.” Gavin went to work as he initially started the machine in safe mode then rebooted. “There you go. You can cancel the computer man. Bloody hell Dad, you have just about everything saved to your desktop.”

  “Is there something wrong with that?”

  “Yeah. Look, I’m going to create folders and save these documents and pictures on your hard drive. I’ll make note so you know where everything is so you can take that panicked look off your face.”

  “Where did you learn to do that?”

  “I appreciate it’s probably been a while, but I learned it at a place called school. You know that place where they teach you stuff? But I guess you learned different skills to me. Plus, I’m a genius.”

  Paul took the dig about his education and misspent youth on the chin. Not the time or place for that conversation.

  They stopped and picked Suzanne up before heading to a restaurant for lunch. How the other half lived. Gavin gawped as the establishment’s manager greeted Paul by name and ushered them to a secluded booth.

  “How are you settling in?” Suzanne asked.

  “Ok, I think. I’m definitely hitting up the pool later.”

  Putting her menu down, Suzanne studied her step son. He was certainly more animated than he was last night and Paul seemed more relaxed too. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to make you breakfast. I had an early client. That’s a rarity and I will usually be home.”

  “It’s cool.”

  “What have you two been up to?” She pressed. She smiled as the pair told her of their morning.

  Paul announced that his son was a genius. “He sorted out this weird problem with my computer at the yard, didn’t even break into a sweat.” Her heart warmed at the obvious pride in his voice. Perhaps this transition wouldn’t be as difficult as they had presumed.

  Lunch over and Suzanne dropped at a beauty salon amidst Paul’s mutterings of, “I don’t know why you need to go to these places, they can’t improve on perfection.” The two of them found themselves outside an austere looking building. Paul nudged his son to get him moving.

  Gavin’s initial assessment of perhaps this won’t be too bad after his first chat with the counsellor proved to be completely and utterly wrong when Paul was ushered into the room and the subject turned to that of his mother and her relationship with Paul.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he steadfastly refused to talk while he felt himself becoming increasingly angrier at every word Paul said about his mother. When the counsellor turned to Gavin and asked if he would like to add anything to Paul’s assessment of his relationship, he ground out, “I will not talk about my mother while he is in the room and I certainly won’t address anything to do with her relationship with him.” He got up and walked out when the counsellor pressed him further.

  Paul found him pacing in the waiting room. “Gavin.”

  “I am not going to discuss mum with you. Not now. Not ever and what you said in there was all bullshit.” He shouted.

  “No. It wasn’t. There are things that went on between your mother and I that you may not want to hear about but they happened. I know I did many things wrong during my time with her but so did she. Neither of us were perfect son. It’s about time you accepted that. I always did what I thought was best.”

  Gavin stopped pacing long enough to scream. “That’s bollocks.” At Paul before a new face appeared in the room and introduced herself as Gavin’s anger management counsellor. He desperately wanted to tell her to go to hell but his manners kicked in and as this was court ordered, he didn’t really have a choice. He caught sight of Paul slumping in to a chair, head in his hands as he closed the door. Good. He thought. I hope you suffer.

  Returning home that evening, Suzanne found her husband in the kitchen, arms folded across his chest, legs crossed at the ankles as he leant against the counter and glared at the ceiling over his head. A series of thumps made her eyes travel upward.

  “What’s going on?” She asked.

  Tearing his eyes from the ceiling as the noise continued, Paul uncrossed his arms and held them out to her, only speaking when he was holding her. “My best guess is that Gavin is trashing his room.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  “Counselling and a subsequent very drawn out argument between us.”

  Pushing away from her husband, she eyed him carefully, trying to gauge his mood. “Paul, you didn’t do your usual brutal honesty delivered in your, I will not listen to anything else you have to say tone did you?”

  “No.” He huffed. “But I could have handled it better.”

  “Oh dear.”

  By this time the noise above them had stopped. “He’s of the opinion that his mother was perfect and I was the direct cause of any unhappiness she suffered. He won’t accept that we both made m
istakes and he certainly doesn’t like it when I own up to my part, I mean God forbid I try to take the blame for the things he’s accusing me of. That really riles him up.”

  “You have to remember he’s just lost her. Everything is new to him. I certainly wouldn’t want to be in his position.”

  Paul just shrugged as he pushed away from the counter. He didn’t answer her or look back as he left the room. His footsteps climbing the stairs didn’t give her any hope at all for a peaceful resolution. She knew Paul liked to push people’s buttons and was like a bull in a china shop when confronted. Gavin was a magnified version of his father although both were far too pig headed and stubborn to admit that.

  Pushing open the door to his sons’ room, Paul took a moment to survey the mess before him. What struck him most was the mess was all of Gavin’s things that he brought with him from Gloucester. None of the things Paul had purchased and had put in the room were damaged. It gave him a little hope. Even in his rage, Gavin had shown a modicum of restraint.

  Gavin was standing amidst the carnage, breathing heavily from the exertion. Lost in thought. He jumped when Paul spoke. Keeping his tone light, hiding his annoyance. “Are you done?” He asked.

  Gavin nodded curtly, no way was he apologising. He stood up straighter, placing his hands on his hips waiting for his father to continue.

  “Do you want to talk?”

  What the fuck? Was his initial thought. He’d hoped to get a reaction from his father but hadn’t counted on the one he’d just got. “No.”

  “Ok. Clear this mess up then come down for dinner.” He left no room for argument as he turned to leave.