Hotbox

by Delia Delaney

  He looked at me hard. “And what makes you think that?”

  “You’re hiding something. Why can’t you be straight with me for once? Why do there always have to be secrets? If you could just tell me what’s going on—”

  “I’m covering all the bases.”

  “That’s bull. And until you can tell me the truth, I can’t even believe a word you say. Maybe that’s not even my mother! Maybe you found someone that looks like her, implanted her with the memories of my life, and stuck her in front of me just to see how I would react! This is all a bit of a soap opera to me. Faked deaths? The Russian Mafia? A brother? Oh, I’m sorry…half brother. For all I know, he could be fake as well!”

  “I assure you that I am not.”

  I whipped my head toward the hallway. My mother was standing there with her hand covering her mouth, and standing next to her was…my brother.

  He entered the room slowly and dipped his head slightly. “Hello, Ty. I’m Trevor. I really am your brother. Excuse me, half brother.” The corner of his mouth lifted into a smile.

  “What did you call me?” I asked.

  “Uh…I called you ‘Ty.’ Isn’t that what you prefer?”

  I eyed him warily, still slightly on the defense, but fully aware that he looked like me. Okay, not exactly like me, but he had the same light brown hair, the same brown eyes, and he was even about the same height as me, but with a slightly leaner build.

  He walked cautiously until he was standing five feet in front of me. After a closer look I could tell he had a different nose than me, and his face was a bit narrower.

  “So? You prefer to be called Ty, right? Not Tyler, although that is what certain adults choose to call you?” He glanced behind him at Kristof, who was quietly making his way out of the room.

  “Yeah, I like to be called Ty.”

  I looked him over again, dressed in khaki pants and a polo shirt. He looked like a preppy rich kid, and I cruelly wondered what happened to the Izod sweater that should be draped over his shoulders. He spoke with an accent, but it was faint, like he had been very schooled in the English language, or he was trying hard not to sound Russian. I knew Kristof could speak entirely without an accent when he wanted to, but I attributed that to all the time he had spent in the United States.

  “Well,” Trevor said, and for the first time he seemed to lose his confidence. He looked down at the floor before looking at me again. “I’m, uh, sorry…for all the trouble this has caused you. I understand that this is all…quite a surprise. But forgive me if I say I’m- I’m very happy to finally meet you.”

  I realized how defensive I must have looked. My arms were folded across my chest and I was still watching him carefully. But really I was just…so stunned by the whole thing that I didn’t know what to do. Trevor looked almost hurt that I was being so distrustful, but he also looked as if he truly desired to have me as a brother. I decided—despite every crazy thing that had happened—I really did have a mother and a brother now, and what happened from that day forward could possibly be something good if I let it be.

  I relaxed my arms at my sides and took a deep breath. “Well, it’s nice to meet you too, even though I didn’t know you existed.”

  He smiled when I offered to shake his hand, and then he unexpectedly stepped to me and gave me a hug. After the first few seconds of surprise wore off, I guess I hugged him back. I saw my mother still standing in the hallway and she had tears streaming down her face.

  I pulled back from Trevor and said, “I think our mom is slightly emotional.”

  He laughed. “She cries at the drop of a hat. Is that the right expression?”

  I smiled. “Yeah, that sounds right.”

  She came into the room with her hands clasped to her mouth. “I’ve waited so long for this,” she whispered. She approached us and tentatively put her hand on my arm, so I took her in my arms and gave her another hug. She broke down and cried against me for quite a while. It caused me to be emotional too, and I allowed myself to finally accept that my mother was back in my life.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  “So you seem to work the English language pretty well,” I said to Trevor.

  After giving me a tour of the mansion, the three of us were now sitting in… I guess he called it the sitting room.

  “Yes, I’ve been speaking English my entire life.”

  “Well, when you drop the accent you sound pretty American.”

  He grinned. “It’s all about the contractions.”

  I smiled. “Yep. Throw in a ‘yeah’ occasionally, or ‘uh-huh’ and you’ve got it made.”

  A servant brought us some tea, but only my mother accepted it.

  “You’ve definitely had a different life than me,” I said to her. “Not that it’s been wonderful or anything,” I quickly added, “but…definitely different.”

  “It’s amazing what experiences a person goes through to get to a particular point in their life,” my mom said. She hadn’t spoken much—she said she was content with just listening to her two sons talk—but her comment made me think of Jayden.

  I slowly nodded. “Yeah, I guess we can’t always pick and choose what experiences we get.”

  It was quiet for a moment and then she asked, “Tell me about your dad.”

  Wow. That could take a while. She was already pretty sensitive about the things that had happened in our lives; I wasn’t sure how she was going to react to the life I had lived. But I figured I’d better be honest since everything else was being lain out in the open.

  “Uh, the basic version, or the lengthy and complicated version?”

  She seemed a little surprised. “Well…whatever you’d like to share.”

  I shrugged. “After you ‘died,’ he went off the deep end. Became an alcoholic, neglected me, eventually got a little rough with me, went several years being a zero, got clean and sober one day, re-entered my life as a different man, and now… Here we are. I’m a million miles away from him and I kinda miss him.”

  Her mouth hung open, and she was completely aghast.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “I guess I could have been a little more tactful, but my whole life feels like it’s been based on a lie.”

  She slowly nodded and reached for my hand as a tear slid down her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Tyler. I had no idea. Cliff actually… He wasn’t a good father?”

  We talked about it for a long time, a very long time, until we came to an understanding about my dad. She was furious that he had hurt me, but with all the outside influences controlling our entire lives, it was hard to say who was accountable for what. She was, however, pleased that we were now on good terms, my father was healthy again, and that he had been there for me the last nine horrible months. That led to Jayden, and I just wasn’t ready to talk about her. It was too painful so I quickly deferred the conversation.

  Late into the day I became completely exhausted. I wanted to spend more time with my family, but my body just wasn’t allowing me to. From all the time spent traveling, to the emotional exhaustion of being reunited with my mother and brother, I just couldn’t function anymore.

  “Just lie down for a while, Tyler, and then we can talk some more,” my mom told me. “The time change has messed you up,” she smiled, reaching up to rouse my hair. “How tall are you?” she asked as we walked down the hall my “suite.”

  “I’m six-two. And-a-half, if that counts,” I smiled.

  “Of course it counts. Trevor is also six-foot-two.”

  “But without the half,” he chuckled. “I guess my big brother is taller than me.”

  “Well, you’re what—? Only nineteen? Maybe you’ll still grow,” I teased.

  With a laugh he replied, “I’m almost nineteen. So maybe I do have time to grow. How tall is your dad?” he asked.

  “Six-one.” I would have asked him about his, but I wasn’t sure if the subject was off-limits. Neither of them had mentioned a word about him. “How tall are you, Mom?” She seemed to be the s
ame height as Jayden.

  She cast me a surprised look as she opened the door to my room. Calling her mom must have thrown her for one, but what was I supposed to call her? Olivia? Lady I once knew as mom?

  “I’m, uh, five-foot-eight,” she smiled. “Okay, here we are. Boris put your things over there,” she pointed, “and there is a closet full of items—anything you might need—over there,” she pointed again. “Uh, the bathroom is down there, and uh…there’s a small kitchenette with food if you’re hungry again, and uh… Well, I guess that’s it.”

  “That’s it? Where’s the Jacuzzi and the wet bar?”

  “Oh. The Jacuzzi is in the bathroom—down there—and uh, I’m sorry, there’s no beverage center in this room. There are drinks in the refrigerator, but if you want—”

  “Mom!” Trevor interrupted with a laugh. “He’s just joking!”

  She looked at me with wide eyes. “Oh! I’m sorry!” With a smile her eyes remained fixed on me—kind of like a mother that hadn’t seen her son for two decades—and then she put her hand against my face. “Get some sleep, Tyler. We’ll be here when you wake up. Well, not here here, but…well, in the house.” She bit her lip for a second, debating if she should say more, but she just gave me a hug and left the room.

  I looked at Trevor and he was smiling at me. “She’s been so nervous about seeing you again.”

  “Why? She’s afraid I won’t like her or something?”

  “Kind of. She’s afraid you won’t forgive her for what’s happened.”

  I sighed. Everything was a little much to take, but I didn’t even know whom to blame anymore. “Forgiveness is an essential part of life. We can’t progress if we’re unwilling to forgive others.”

  “Wow, that sounds a little deep,” he grinned. “Are you a religious boy?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I am now. Besides,” I said, dropping onto the bed, “she’s my mom. Of course I forgive her.”

  He nodded slowly, seeming to contemplate. “Well, for all it’s worth, this is the happiest I have ever seen her. She really has been looking forward to this day for…as long as I can remember. I’ve known I have a brother my entire life. Now…it’s finally good to have you in it.”

  He offered one last smile before he left the room.

  When I woke up it was still light out, but what I soon realized was that it was light out again. I had slept through the entire evening and the entire night. I stretched but remained in bed for a while. It was eight in the morning… Was it Monday? I wasn’t even sure.

  I looked around the room, amazed that people actually lived in places like this. I’d grown up in a little shack of a home with a shattered, dysfunctional family. Trevor had grown up in a place much like this one, yet he was also held prisoner to a life he wanted no part of. Did he actually have a relationship with his father? Did he know that man had raped his mother? I had no idea, but it felt completely unfair to question him on it. We had, after all, just met. It wasn’t like I was anyone he could trust right off the bat. I was his brother, but he hardly knew me.

  Or did he?

  I took some time in the bathroom—the shower alone was almost the size of my bedroom at home. Then I found my bag by the closet, threw some clothes on and stepped into the hall. I paused for a second, trying to remember which way we had come the day before, and ultimately decided to hang a left. When I passed a gigantic plant along the way, I assumed I was heading the right direction, but then I passed another gigantic plant that was the same as the last, and it threw off my original course.

  “May I help you find your way, sir?”

  Boris had a slight smile on his lips and he was standing in the direction from where I just came.

  “Uh, yeah. Where am I?”

  “You are headed to the pool, sir. Would you like to go swimming in your track pants?”

  I laughed at his dry humor. “Not really, but could you help me find my mom?”

  “Certainly. Follow me, sir.”

  “Boris, you don’t have to call me ‘sir.’ ”

  “Yes, sir, I do.”

  “No,” I said slowly. “Not if I instruct you not to.”

  “Well if you instruct me not to, then I have to comply.”

  “Then don’t call me ‘sir.’ I’m not old enough to be a ‘sir.’ ”

  He tried to hide a smile. “What is the age requirement for the title of ‘sir’?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, but I don’t fit the requirement.”

  “Yes, s—” He stopped himself. “Yes. Very well. Shall I call you Mr. Huntington?”

  “No.”

  We turned a corner and then I was familiar with where we were. The balcony overlooked the main living area that we had been in the previous day. We descended the wide, marble staircase that curved toward the grand piano.

  Jayden would love that piano, I thought.

  “Call me Ty,” I said to Boris.

  “I am sorry, sir—uh, I am sorry, but I am not allowed to use such an informal address.”

  “You will if I tell you to. I’m not a ‘sir’ and I don’t want to be called ‘mister,’ so if you have to address me, it’s gonna have to be by my first name.”

  He wasn’t as good at hiding the smile this time, and I actually saw some teeth. But as quick as he showed them they disappeared, and he looked ahead at Kristof.

  “Good morning, sir,” Boris announced. “I have assisted Mr. Huntington in his course. He would like to find his mother.”

  “Ah, very well. Thank you, Boris. Good morning, Tyler. Did you sleep well?”

  “My head hit the pillow and I don’t think I became conscious for fourteen hours.”

  He laughed. “So I take it your quarters were comfortable?”

  “Uh, yeah, my ‘quarters’ were nice. Uh…where’s my mom?”

  “Outside. I will take you to her.”

  He motioned with his head to follow. We went past the grand piano and under the balcony toward giant double doors. I wasn’t even sure what doors like that were called, but they were about twelve feet high.

  My mother was sitting at a table on the patio. She had a book in one hand and a strawberry in the other. “Tyler! Good morning!” She stood up to greet me, paused for just a second, but then gave me a big hug. “How did you sleep? Were you comfortable? Did you have everything you needed? I hope—”

  “It was fine,” I smiled. “Very comfortable.”

  After she quickly glanced over my appearance, she stood there staring at me for several long seconds. I wondered if I was underdressed or something since she was in a long skirt and a blouse, and Kristof was in nice slacks and a button up shirt. But Kristof always dressed like that, so I wasn’t sure.

  “Please, sit down and eat,” Kristof instructed me.

  “Oh! Yes, honey, sit and eat. I’m sorry.”

  My mom actually pulled out a chair for me, and then Kristof excused himself and left us alone.

  “Am I dressed too casual?” I asked cautiously.

  She looked surprised. “What? No, why would it matter?”

  I shrugged, not wanting to embarrass her, but said, “I don’t know. You kind of looked me over funny. I thought maybe I was supposed to dress up for meals or something.”

  She did look embarrassed and I felt really bad.

  “I- uh- I’m sorry,” she stammered. “It’s just… It’s just so wonderful to have you here and…I guess I can’t stop staring at you. I know it’s rude and—”

  “And it’s better that she’s not pacing outside of your bedroom anymore,” Trevor said, smiling as he joined us.

  My mom kind of chuckled uncomfortably when I looked at her, and then she shrugged. “I guess old habits never die. I always did the same thing when you were…uh, when you were little.”

  There was an awkward silence for a few seconds, and I could tell that she wanted to cry again, but she held it in.

  “Your dad worked pretty late sometimes—we didn’t have a lot of money back then; he wo
rked a second job on occasion—and it was hard for me to put you to bed and just leave you there. So…I would kind of linger, I guess. I’d stand in the doorway and watch you sleep, or check on you the second I woke up. Sometimes I’d let you fall asleep near me, and your dad would carry you to your bed when he got home. You were his ‘Little Big Man.’ That’s what he called you.” She seemed reflective somewhat as she slowly shook her head, and the tears fell anyway. “I just don’t understand why things had to happen like that,” she whispered softly.

  It was a repeat of the day before, and I wondered if things were ever going to make sense to any of us. I loved my dad—he wasn’t there for me growing up, but now he was my best friend, and he’d turned out to be a great father.

  “I don’t know what he was like when you knew him,” I told her. “But from everything you’ve shared with me, he sounds like the same guy I know now. He just went through a rough patch—a really long rough patch—and even though my life completely sucked at the time, I actually think it made me a better person. Same for my Dad, too. I’m willing to look beyond it; everyone deserves a second chance if they truly want it, and Dad has pretty much fought from the bottom of the pit with all odds against him. I’d say he’s definitely paid his penance, although he still continues to do so. I’m not sure if he’ll ever even forgive himself—which really worries me—but I’m thankful that I finally have a relationship with him. It’s more than I ever thought I’d have, and now with you… I have two parents again. It’s kind of unbelievable.”

  She waited to make sure I was finished, and then nodded her head as she brushed away her tears. “I know. And I’ll treasure every moment with you. With both of you,” she added, looking at Trevor too. She took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m sorry for all of the emotions. This has been so…overwhelming. And if I stare at you too much, I can’t help it,” she smiled at me.

  “It’s because you wear weird clothes,” Trevor said, most likely to lighten the mood. My mother gasped but his comment made me laugh. “Come on, are you a jock or something?”