If Wishes Were Horses

by Jm Cartwright

  Sniffing, Angel stalked back into his office and slammed the door. Crazy hillbilly bastard.

  * * * *

  Brandon tapped his fingers on his desktop, and the thick material easily absorbed the sound. For the fourth time in as many minutes, he pulled back the sleeve of his black cotton sweater. The damned watch read three twenty. “Jeez.” He shoved his chair away from the long countertop he’d hung on the north wall of his office.

  There were two desk setups along the counter, one for him and one for Angel, though Angel used the area only on weekends and occasional evenings. Brandon had revamped the old shed soon after moving everyone to Cave Junction, and it was now a piece of modern architectural art, with a window wall overlooking the forest, a transparent solid-surface counter that served as desk and workspace under the windows, the long curve of dividing wall separating the kitchen from the office, and the open seating area in front. Brandon had found some great contemporary leather pieces from a furniture liquidator in Portland, and he’d set them around the wood-burning fireplace. He was proud of the stonework he’d done there, with just a little assistance from a local mason.

  This afternoon he’d been planning to talk to Trey, and he thought he could bring the kids in here. He could plant Marisa in front of the television and talk to Trey at the desk. Brandon had really wanted to wait another day or two, until the weekend, when everyone would theoretically be a little more relaxed. Based on his now three years of being a family man, that was so not gonna happen.

  “Hah. Fat fricking chance,” he muttered. Between Angel, Maria, and the kids, something was always happening at River’s Edge. “Why we can’t have a quiet damned weekend is beyond me.” He tossed his pen in disgust, then pivoted toward the office entry when he heard the dogs barking.

  The two shepherds raced past the pair of tall windows that faced the house, tails up and howls of joy floating on the air.

  Great. The kids were home.

  Trey’s middle school got out after Marisa’s elementary school, but they were on the same bus route. It usually made life a lot easier, but somehow, today didn’t feel easier. This was the first time Brandon would have to face both children since last evening. He’d managed to get to his office early enough that he’d missed breakfast and the kids’ departure for school.

  He wasn’t hiding. Not really.

  Adding salt to the wound, the dogs had followed him as they did every morning. Both Dolly and Gabby had had him feeling even guiltier, since they’d whined pitifully at the entry door as they’d watched Trey and Marisa walk down the long gravel drive toward the road. The doggy sisters loved to gallivant up and down the entry lane as they escorted the kids to and from the bus.

  Brandon now faced his own reflection in the door glass. “Buck up, son. No sense hiding in here.” He might have been a lot of things, but a weenie wasn’t one of them.

  Right?

  With a deep breath, Brandon slung on his leather jacket and headed outside.

  The two kids were trudging up the drive about a hundred feet away, Marisa chattering to both the dogs and Trey. Brandon could hear the murmur of the boy’s responses.

  “Hey.” He watched as the kids swung their heads in his direction.

  “Hi, Brandon.” Marisa was polite but didn’t change her course. She kept walking toward the side door of the house. Trey didn’t bother to respond.

  “You two up for some DQ?” Usually the idea of Dairy Queen would have the two children jumping up and down in excitement. And Brandon wasn’t above bribery.

  Marisa did pause and glance over her shoulder as if to speak. A warning hiss from Trey had her continuing into the house, and the dogs followed, shoving their way inside.

  Brandon couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “They do like their afternoon treats, don’t they?”

  The boy turned to face Brandon, shoulders back and feet planted. “Look. We don’t like you any more than you like us. And you can leave any time.”

  Chapter Seven

  Brandon felt a burning in his chest, and all humor fled. The pugnacious and angry look on his ward’s face just about broke his heart. And he wanted to kick himself for fucking this whole thing up. “I’m not leaving.”

  “Right. Uh-huh. Yeah,” Trey scoffed in disbelief. “Whatever. You think we’re stupid.” He threw his book bag on the steps.

  “I don’t think you’re stupid. Why are you saying that?” Brandon’s voice was plaintive, but he was overrun by Trey’s anger.

  “Why’d you even bother taking us, huh? Why’d you bring us all the way up to this bumfuck town? I had friends where I used to live, you know. Lots of ’em. We could go back there.”

  “Hey! Don’t use that word. Where in the heck did you learn that?” Christ. Was there anything else Brandon was going to screw up? Now he had one of the kids spouting language that Angel liked to— “Did Angel teach you that?”

  Trey gave a jerky shrug in response.

  Shit. “Trey, can I just—” Brandon sighed as Trey spun on his heel and started running toward the river. “God.” Brandon took off after him.

  Brandon managed to catch the boy in the trees along the bank, snagging a sleeve of Trey’s ski jacket. “Hey! Will you slow down a minute and listen to me?” Puffing just a little, and pissed that he was, Brandon exhaled heavily. “Jeez Louise, what’s with all the drama around here lately?”

  Clearly that was the wrong tack to take.

  Trey’s head came up fast, and the green eyes were shooting sparks. “I ain’t no drama llama! And it’s all your fault!” The boy swung a fist in Brandon’s direction.

  Leaning back enough that Trey’s feeble attempt missed, Brandon raised both hands. “Whoa. Whoa there, son.”

  “I’m not your son!” Trey lunged forward, both arms swinging this time.

  “Hey, slow down!” Brandon managed to fend off most of the blows, though one or two got through before he was able to corral Trey. He ended up wrapping his arms around the boy and holding on tight. “Stop now. Just stop. You need to tell me just what the heck is going on.” He gave Trey a final squeeze. “Look at me.” Grunting when there was no response, he grabbed Trey’s chin. “Will you please look at me? How are we supposed to talk this out if you won’t look at me?”

  Brandon was stunned when he saw two big tears leaking out of the shimmering green eyes. His gut clenched, so tight it was almost a physical pain. “Hey. Hey, there.” He swiped a thumb across Trey’s cheek, catching a bit of the salty liquid.

  Trey ducked his head away, plopping down onto the dormant grass.

  Damn it. Brandon knelt next to the boy. “God, Trey. Don’t do that. Don’t cry.” He almost started crying himself when Trey knuckled away another tear.

  “I’m not crying!” Trey’s voice was muffled as he tucked his chin into his jacket collar.

  “Oh.” Brandon eased onto his butt. “Yeah. Of course not. Sorry about that.” He grabbed a stray bunch of ponderosa pine needles and rolled them between his thumb and fingers. “Me neither.” He was tempted to stick the needles in his teeth and chew, just for something to do. “So.” Folding his legs, Brandon rested his bent arms on his knees. “Um.”

  Hunched over, Trey stared at the ground, his hands shoved in his pockets.

  Brandon fidgeted, trying to think of something to say. His gaze roamed around, seeing the muted colors of southwestern Oregon in February. The browns and greens seem to blend together, though the gray overcast sky might have had something to do with that.

  Inspiration struck. “You know, my dad used to tell me when I was a kid that pine trees could grow a thousand feet tall.”

  Trey moved his head a little, almost as if he was going to look at Brandon.

  Brandon was so tempted to run his fingers over the springy brown curls. “But what did he know? We lived in Chicago. They don’t exactly have pine forests around every corner back there.” Now Brandon did stick the pine needles between his teeth, imagining them as a piece of straw. “I’m not sure he
’s ever even been in a forest, to tell you the truth.” He snorted a humorless chuckle. “We used to live about half a mile from Wrigley Field. My old man worked for the city, down at the water filtration plant, on the lake, you know?” He looked up at one of the towering ponderosas. “He could have used some trips to the forest once in a while. Might have loosened him up a bit.”

  “You…you told me when I first came to live with you that-that you lost your family.” Trey still wasn’t looking at Brandon, but he sounded faintly interested. “Are they dead?”

  Brandon sighed and stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankle. He leaned back on one hand, and twirled the pine between his teeth. “Well, kid, not really. See, the old man and his wife, who would be my mother, didn’t happen to like it so much when I told them…well, when I let them know I was, that I thought I was—”

  “Was what?” Now Trey had his head up, and he’d propped his elbows on his knees.

  Great. Now I’ve got his attention and it’s because—“When I told them I was probably gay or at least…bi.”

  “What’s bi?”

  Crap. “Um.” I probably shouldn’t have said that. “I… You know how, when you’re at school and you keep checking out the girls, like that little girl, what’s her name”—Brandon snapped his fingers as he tried to recall—“um, Keiko?” When that generated a dusky flush on Trey’s cheeks, Brandon couldn’t help but smile for a second. “Oh, yeah, that’s her name. Um, anyway, you like girls. Marisa will probably like boys. And you know that Angel and I like boys, well, guys. We like guys. We’re attracted to guys. But not other guys. Us. We. Um, we’re solid with each other; we’re not interested in other guys. Uh, not at all. No way.”

  Brandon stopped what he realized was idiotic babbling when he saw the look on Trey’s face. “I’m so talking like a goof, aren’t I?”

  Trey snorted as he picked up a small pebble near his knee. “You sound like Marisa when she’s had too much Mountain Dew.” The boy tossed the stone into the river. “Kinda dumb.”

  Brandon ignored the dig. “Yeah, I’d say you’re right. Let me see if I can make some sense this time.” He breathed deeply through his nose. “Most people are attracted to people of the opposite sex. Sometimes, it’s people of the same sex. Like Angel. And sometimes, it can be to both sexes.”

  Trey’s face was scrunched in thought as he listened.

  “It took me— When I finally…well, when I told my parents, I was just heading off to college. I’d gotten a baseball scholarship from the U of I, and I guess I thought it was time I told them the truth.” What a clusterfuck that had turned out to be. “Anyway, turns out I’m one of the people who is attracted to guys and to women.”

  “Why?”

  “Kid, if I knew the answer to that I’d be Dr. Phil. Or at least have my own TV show.”

  “What’s U of I?”

  And as simply as that, the subject was changed. If only his damn parents had been so calm and accepting when he’d told them. But no. The entire world had ended for the Halvorsens of Chicago.

  “Oh. That’s the University of Illinois, where I went to college. I got scouted there and drafted the end of my senior year. But I was able to transfer to Chicago to finish my architecture program, then got sent to the farm system.”

  “Oh.” Trey picked up another stone and rolled it in his fingers.

  Brandon switched the pine to the other side of his mouth. “Now, you want to tell me what you meant back there?” He jerked his head in the direction of the house and driveway.

  Trey lifted both shoulders in a shrug. “I dunno.”

  “Really? ’Cause it sounded like you knew what you were saying at the time.” Brandon flicked the needles away with one thumb and forefinger. “Matter of fact, sounded like you were telling me exactly what you wanted me to hear.”

  Trey stared determinedly at the water, jiggling the small stone for all he was worth.

  Tilting his eyes heavenward, Brandon mentally braced himself. “Great. So it’s up to me to get us talking about-about our…feelings.” He uttered the last word with a bit of disdain. He couldn’t help it, though. He hated talking about touchy-feely stuff.

  Trey turned away just enough that all Brandon could see was the boy’s profile.

  “Ah. I see you’re just as anxious. Sweet.” Brandon gritted his teeth. “Well, if I’ve got to suck it up, so do you.” Brandon shifted around, then grunted when his knee landed on something. “Damn it!” He flicked the offending pebble away before plopping back down on his ass.

  “You said another swear.”

  At least the kid was looking at him again. Brandon could see Trey’s green eyes peeking from under the curls.

  “I know. I’ve been around Angel too long.” Brandon swore he heard the faintest giggle at that remark, and he felt a little bit more confident he might be able to connect with Trey. “Right? He’s a bad influence on me. I used to be a pretty nice guy.” He looked at his fingers for a moment before continuing. “Anyway. So what do you say we talk about…well, whatever’s bothering you?” When Trey didn’t respond, Brandon reached out with two fingers and lifted the boy’s chin. “Come on. What do you say? We can do this, can’t we?”

  Trey’s eyelids rose, and his gaze met Brandon’s.

  Grateful that those peepers were once more dry, Brandon took a fortifying breath. “Good. Um. Good.” He shifted so that his legs were stretched out, and he leaned back on one hand. When that wasn’t comfortable, he moved again, once more folding his legs and propping his elbows on his knees. “Okay.” So he was nervous. He could still do this. “You must have heard me talking to CeCe about the SPX job offer, right? That how this whole thing started?”

  Trey bit his lip and nodded.

  “You know, just as an aside… My mother used to tell my brother and me that kids who listened in on adult conversations caused more problems than they solved. I always thought she was just being bitchy, but now I actually get what she meant.” He stared at the red bark of the ponderosa for a few seconds. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing with her, but there you have it.” He shrugged and was surprised when he spotted a tiny grin on Trey’s face. “I know, right? Whoever thinks they’ll agree with their parents?”

  Trey frowned.

  Brandon felt bad for inadvertently reminding the boy about the parents he’d lost. “I’m sorry, Trey, that probably brings up bad memories. But I hope it brings up good memories too. I hope you’re able to remember some of the fun times before your mom and dad were…um, before they died.” When Trey remained silent, Brandon tried again. “What did you do for fun with your parents?”

  Trey’s voice cracked a little when he answered. “Camping.”

  “Oh. I guess we’ve circled back to where we started, huh? Marisa mentioned that you had a camping thing coming up. And that it’s a-a father-son thing. Is that what’s got you all hot and bothered?”

  “You’re leaving. I heard you.” Trey’s voice was quiet.

  “I’m not!” Brandon made himself count to five. “Wait. Just wait. I haven’t made any decision on this. I promise you that.” He reached out and laid a hand on Trey’s knee. “I was planning to talk to Angel and then to you kids.” He pulled his leather jacket aside to scratch at his collarbone. “Honestly? I’m kind of flattered to be asked, if you want to know the truth.”

  “Does that mean you want it?”

  “I-I’m not sure, kid.”

  Trey launched another stone at the water. “If you go, I’m going back to California.”

  Brandon watched the transformation from sad to mad with a sigh. “Look, boy, whatever we do, we’re gonna do it together. As a family. Period. Nobody’s going anywhere without everybody. Everyone. All of us. Whatever. Is that clear?”

  “You mean it?” The tension in Trey’s shoulders seeped out. “Seriously?”

  “Serious as a heart attack.” Brandon stood up and stuck out his hand. “I’m giving you my word.” He felt his whole body ease when Trey slow
ly stretched an arm upward.

  Brandon grasped the child’s hand and pulled. “Thank you for believing me.” He hugged the boy close. “That means a lot.” He turned toward the house. “Now how about we head back inside and let Marisa know what’s going on?”

  Chapter Eight

  Angel thoroughly enjoyed the two days in Eugene. The hot stone massage and the shopping had made up for a lot of the aggravation of the past week. And he’d found the 5th Street Market to be delightful.

  He and Maria had driven up early Saturday morning, after he’d announced his plans to Brandon while making coffee. He’d felt a sly satisfaction that he’d managed to absolutely surprise his secretive lover with the news.

  He’d expected Marisa and Trey to be a little cranky at having to spend time with Brandon, given how not happy the kids were with Brandon at the moment. He’d been reluctantly impressed when he’d learned from Marisa that things had been somewhat smoothed over.

  Hmm.

  Now if the blockhead would just talk to me, things would be looking up.

  His small marketing team had had a crisis late Friday afternoon, which had required Angel to miss Friday evening dinner and a movie with the kids, a tradition they’d established not long after relocating to Cave Junction. He hadn’t been too happy about that, but he had felt good about the fact that they’d headed off a crisis with the catering company, which had suddenly discovered an overabundance of bookings for Valentine’s Day.

  “Jeez.” Shaking his head at the ineptitude of the booking manager, Angel glanced at his mother in the passenger seat of the Mercedes ML 550. He’d volunteered to drive, wanting to get some road time in his beloved baby. “I’m glad that dope at the caterer doesn’t work for me.” He’d been sharing his war stories along the ride home.

  Maria chuckled. “I think I’m glad I don’t work for you right now, mi’jo. This tour is running you ragged and making you crazy. But it sounds like it’s really going to get all of us on the map.” She angled to face Angel, crossing her legs. “I’m so proud of you, my son. So proud.”