by E M Lindsey
“Why? Because his teenage sons ran away from home and then abuse allegations surfaced from the single teacher who bothered to give a fuck?” Derek asked bitterly. He dragged a hand down his face. “I don’t want to care about any of this.”
“I know,” Sage said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t either. I’m done with him, and done with people dying and I just…” He let out a ragged sigh. “Will you come with me?”
“Yeah. I already booked us a flight,” Derek admitted, because he had. It was the first thing he’d done after Basil said he was going to stay by his side. “Basil’s coming too.”
He half expected Sage to protest, but instead his brother just chuckled. “Thank god.”
“Seriously?” Derek asked.
“I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you look at him. He’s…fuck’s sake, I signed up for sign class last week because I’m not about to exchange notes like a fucking middle schooler to talk to my eventual brother-in-law.”
Derek felt something warm explode in his chest, and it took a full thirty seconds before he could breathe again. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Sage said, almost furious. “Don’t thank me for being the bare minimum of decent person. Just…pack your shit and let’s get this over with. I want to put that man in the past for good.”
“Me too,” Derek breathed out. “I’m done letting him make me into this mess.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Hey, kiddo.”
Derek almost smacked his head, startled halfway under his desk as he gathered up a group of fallen pencils. Pushing back on his stool, he spun and glowered at Tony and Sam who were barely restraining a laugh. “Thanks, fuckers.”
Sam’s grin turned a little sad, and Derek felt a pang of irritation because the last thing he needed was more coddling from everyone. “We just wanted to catch you before you and Sage head out.” He pushed his chair a little closer and reached out his hand.
Derek was helpless against the offer of comfort, and let Sam take his arm. “We’re only going to be gone like four days, man. Trust me, I’m not eager to draw this out.”
“I know,” Sam said, and his gaze flickered back up to Tony who had Jasmine propped up on his shoulder, her face smushed against his shirt as she slept. “And I promise we’re not going to be assholes and baby you about this. We just want to remind you that this shit sucks, no matter what kind of scum he was, and if you need anything…”
“I’m good,” Derek told him, and gently pulled away from his grip. “I just want to move past this. It’ll…fuck,” he dragged his hand back through his hair, “it’ll be nice to just bury the fucker and not have to take those calls anymore.”
Except the strange thing was, knowing that weekly call wasn’t coming in felt strange. Not bad—he wasn’t going to miss listening to the old fuck slur into the receiver about what a disappointing homo he was, and how much he’d tried to beat the gay out of him, and some sinners just couldn’t be cured. But the fact that it was over, the fact that this part of his life was irrevocably changed unsettled him. And logically he knew it was because he depended on routine. That the good and the bad were what kept him functioning. Still, he wanted to be rid of that. He wanted the newness to feel normal, and he wanted it to hurry.
“Look, you know we can close up shop and do the whole funeral thing with you, Der,” Tony said, shifting Jasmine a little. “Our clients will understand, and those that don’t, well we don’t need their fuckin’ business anyway.”
Derek couldn’t help a twinge of gratitude as he pushed himself up to stand, clasping Tony’s shoulder. He gently rubbed his fingertips over Jasmine’s curls, smiling when she nuzzled her dad’s neck a bit in her sleep. “Thanks, man. Seriously, you have no idea how much I appreciate it, but we’re not making a big deal out of this. We’re the only family he had left, and we’ve already talked to the priest. It’s going to be quick and dirty, and then we get to head home.”
“Sage said you were bringing Basil with you,” Sam told him.
Derek nodded, shoving one hand into his pocket just to keep his hand from fidgeting. “Yeah. Yeah, he…I don’t even know how to feel about it, really. Like…shit. That’s never happened before—someone who gave that much of a shit about me.” When the pair of them looked a little affronted, he rolled his eyes. “I don’t mean family, asshats. I mean…other.”
“Right,” Sam said, waggling his brows.
Derek kicked at his wheel gently. “I expect to come home and find all you fucks enrolled in the class Sage just signed up for, by the way. No more fucking excuses. For him, and for Jasmine. Enough bullshitting around it.”
Tony’s cheeks darkened a little, but his lip twitched into a half smile. “I’ll see to it.”
Derek nodded, then turned around to gather the supplies he wanted to bring on the plane. “I’ll uh…I’ll keep in touch,” he promised without turning back around. “And Sam, you call me if shit goes down. I haven’t given up on my promise to find you a lawyer, okay? We’re going to work this out.”
“Derek, right now,” Sam started, but Derek spun around and quieted him with a firm stare.
“No. Now is exactly the right time for it, Sam. In the midst of all this bullshit, if I can get something good out of it, I’ll feel like maybe I won’t totally lose my mind, okay? So, when you get home, you kiss May for me and tell her uncle DeDe loves her and that he’s going to help make this right.”
Sam swallowed thickly, then nodded. “Just be safe, asshole. And don’t be mad if you come back to me poaching all your clients. You know they can’t resist my charm.”
“Fuck off,” Derek said, grinning through the words. “I’ll be in touch.” He hugged them both, then headed back to Sage’s where he and Basil were waiting. Their flight was in a few hours, and the airport was going to be a huge pain. But it would be over. The ending was on the horizon, and Derek was more than looking forward to closing the book on that chapter of his life.
Derek felt a wave of guilt when he watched Basil pop a pill for his flying anxiety, but Basil quickly assured him it was fine, then held his hand as the plane began to taxi. Before they were at cruising altitude, Basil had dropped off against Derek’s shoulder and was snoring quietly into the crook of his neck.
Sage glanced over, his mouth forming a very soft grin, and he shook his head. “This looks good on you.”
“What, drool?” Derek asked, pointedly acting as though he didn’t know what his brother meant. It wasn’t that he wanted to diminish what Sage was saying, but there was a part of him still terrified to let himself be happy with another person in front of Sage after everything he’d lost.
Unfortunately, it was hard to hide anything from his twin, and Sage shook his head, letting out a tiny sigh. “I know what you’re doing, but you need to know it’s okay.”
Derek swallowed thickly. “I just…I’ll never forget what it was like right after Ted died, and I can’t…I can’t be someone who puts you back to that dark place.”
“Seeing you happy is never going to send me to a dark place, Der,” Sage told him, reaching out to squeeze his wrist. “And Ted wouldn’t want me to be miserable and hateful just because life didn’t turn out the way either of us expected. I’m…I’m good. Maybe not the best I’ve ever been, but I’m smiling again, and I have more happy days than shitty ones. And even in the midst of all this bullshit, I don’t feel like I’m sinking. So just…let yourself have this, okay?”
Derek shifted a little and couldn’t help a contented grin when Basil let out the smallest murmur and nuzzled closer. Derek’s hand was tangled with Basil’s, and he let himself get lost in the warm feeling of a palm pressed to his own. “I didn’t think I could feel this happy.”
“I knew you could, just like I knew it was going to take a really stubborn asshole to get through to you,” Sage told him. “I’m glad he’s here with us.”
“Part of me wanted to tell him no,” Derek admitted. “This is going to be
a hell of a week and Jesus, I mean, I still don’t know enough sign to properly interpret for him. I’m trying and I’m learning, but it’s going so goddamn slow. I can’t imagine what it would be like.”
Sage shrugged. “I think I can. At least a little. My freshman year—remember I dated that Israeli guy and I went to spend Pesach with him and his family in Tel Aviv?”
Derek chuckled. “Yeah. You guys lasted like five months which was a record for you at the time.”
Sage grinned back at him. “It was. Purim and Pesach, and by the time he invited me to temple for Shavuot, it was over.” His smile was a little wry. “Anyway, I had gotten some really basic lessons from him before we went over there, and he kept telling me to chill because everyone spoke English—which was like sort of true, except that no one bothered unless they needed to address me directly. When we were in big groups for meals or shopping or whatever, it was all in Hebrew. And I picked up a few more things after two weeks, but still not enough that I wasn’t totally lost unless I asked him to translate for me. I hated it, but I also didn’t mind so much because it was important to him. And when we were together, he always made sure I understood what was happening. Everything important, anyway.”
Derek glanced down at Basil’s profile and wanted to lift him by the chin and kiss him awake. Instead he laid his head back against the seat and turned to look at his brother. “I’m going to keep working, and I hope you guys do too. I want this for him. I want him to feel safe and understood and part of us.”
“We’re doing it for Jazzy too,” Sage reminded him. “He’s not alone in this, and for you, he’s worth it.”
Derek allowed that feeling to take over, to eclipse the gentle simmer of badness in his gut since the night he’d gotten the phone call about his father. “I just want all this to be over, and I want to move on.”
Sage nodded. “I get it, and I do too. I’ve uh…I’ve actually been giving this all a lot of thought. What to do with all this shit.”
Derek raised his brows. “You mean the assets?”
“The lawyer said it’ll all add up to a couple million if we decide to liquidate—which I don’t see why not. I mean, I don’t want any of this shit. But I also don’t want to keep the cash. If anyone should have it, it should be you, considering what you went through.”
Derek shuddered. “No. Fucking…absolutely not. I don’t think I’d be able to live with myself.”
“I have a thousand reasons why I disagree with that, but I also get it,” Sage told him with a small breath. “So, I was thinking, we could start a charity—or maybe halfway house. Something to help kids like us with shitty parents so they’re not squatting in abandoned warehouses and sneaking into public pool changing rooms for showers once a week.” He dragged a hand down his face, his eyes closed when he pulled his fingers away. “From the day we left until I was twenty, I didn’t eat a single fresh vegetable. When I got that apartment across the street from campus, I went to the farmer’s market the day after I got paid and bought broccoli. I couldn’t remember eating anything else, but I remember how Luisa used to make that steamed broccoli with garlic and butter, so I did it. I ate an entire plate, and fuck man, I was sick for like three damn days. My shit was weird and green, and I wanted to die, but I also refused to give up. I bought zucchini the next time I went down there, and then an artichoke, and then some spinach. And I swore to myself I wasn’t ever going to live like that again. I want to do something so no one else has to go through what we did.”
Derek hadn’t been there when Sage took off and decided to do something more with himself. Derek was still flailing and falling apart, but he had his own moment. The first time he put his key into a lock and stepped into a studio apartment that was his and just his, without anyone telling him what to do or how to live, he almost turned around and walked right back out. Because he wasn’t sure he was capable of being more to himself, or to anyone else. But he’d forced himself to step inside, and to unpack his three boxes, and to buy more things and make the place his.
He moved five more times after that—each place his own and mostly secret, and precious to him, and above all—it was freedom. Sometimes that freedom felt like it was choking him to death, but he wouldn’t let it go for anything in the world.
With Basil, it felt different, like the world tilted on its axis the other way, but the topsy-turvy felt good. It felt perfect. He wanted to keep going just as much as before.
“We can talk to someone about it,” Derek finally said. “Is it something you want to do like hands on? Or do you just want to give money?”
Sage bit his lip, then said, “How insane is it that I kind of want this to be hands on?”
Derek shook his head. “It’s not. It’s brave and it’s wonderful.”
Sage ducked his head a little, then looked up at Derek through his lashes. “And if I said I wanted you to do it with me…?”
“Yes,” Derek said, because frankly, there was no other answer than that. The thought might be terrifying, and more than intimidating, but the answer to something like that would always, always be yes.
Chapter Seventeen
Derek tried to pretend like he wasn’t relieved when Basil said he wanted to stay back at the hotel instead of attending the meeting with the lawyer, but it was a lie. Mostly because he’d have spent the entire time worrying about Basil not following along, and he just wasn’t good enough yet to provide Basil with what he needed.
He toyed with the idea of hiring an interpreter, but Basil hadn’t brought it up, and Derek didn’t want to assume. At least, not with shit like this. The lawyer was a stuffy, over-dressed, weedy little man who had probably been prom king back in his hey-day, and then had let the years ravage him. His mostly-grey hair had once been black, and his mouth held a near-permanent frown.
He didn’t seem to be their dad’s biggest fan, either, which was the only relief Derek took from sitting in that office. “So, you’re saying he left three million in cash, and his assets total four point six million,” Sage said after the reading was finished. “And that bastard seriously didn’t leave a thing to Derek?”
Mr. Thompson tapped his pen on the side of the desk and sighed. “His will allowed the transfer of the home in Missouri to Mr. Osbourne. The value of the property at the last assessment was at…”
“I don’t care,” Derek interrupted. “Seriously, I don’t care what it’s worth. I don’t actually want anything from him.”
“I’m aware, Mr. Osbourne,” Thompson said, addressing Derek directly, “that you were the sole caregiver for your father in the last three years. You were his assigned power of attorney, and both medical records as well as communication records will back that up.”
“So?” Derek asked, glancing over at Sage.
Thompson licked his lips as his gaze flickered between the brothers, like maybe he was uncertain if there was conflict between them over the will. “A case might be made that your father’s cognizance had been deteriorating due to the advanced cirrhosis, and he may not have been aware he had two sons near the end. However, a case might be argued that you are due at least half the inheritance—and that’s a case you’ll likely win if you decide to take this to court.”
Derek blinked, glancing at Sage for a startled second. “Okay hold on, I meant what I said about not wanting any of this.”
“If my brother wants anything my father left me, he can have it,” Sage cut in. “Trust me when I tell you that as far as I know, we’re both on the same page. We just want to get rid of it as quickly as possible.”
“I see,” Thompson said. He took up his pen again and made a note on his yellow legal pad. “As I have been overseeing your father’s estate for the last twenty years, I would offer my services. However, if you find that uncomfortable, I can also recommend several good attorneys who would be more than familiar with such a situation.”
Derek bit his lip, then said, “Actually I could use a good recommendation, but it’s not about inheritance or anyth
ing. It’s about custody, and it’s in Colorado.”
Thompson’s eyebrows raised. “Perhaps a discussion for another time? Before you leave, of course.”
Derek nodded, feeling only slightly guilty for immediately talking about Sam in spite of their present situation and dead father. “We should probably take a day and go over all this,” Derek said, eyeing the stack of folders.
“I’ll arrange for you to come back in after the funeral, assuming you’ll still be in the city. If not, I’m happy to come to you,” Thompson told him.
Derek figured the guy had gotten a decent pay-out from his father if he was being this helpful, but he couldn’t really turn his nose up at it. After making sure Sage was with him, he nodded. “One of us will call you. Thank you for all your help.”
“My pleasure,” Thompson said. “Let me put you in touch with the funeral home. All the arrangements were pre-made, so there’s little you need to do. Your father ensured his plot would be ready, and the expenses taken care of.”
Derek swallowed past a lump in his throat, then rose and he and Sage collected the folders before they headed out the doors. Neither one of them felt up for driving, so they’d hired an uber which was still waiting for them as they exited the law offices and quickly climbed inside.
“Fuck,” Sage said, letting his head fall against the window. “I need a damn drink.”
“Hotel bar could be good,” Derek replied. “I don’t really want to end up wasted somewhere like this. And Basil’s waiting for me.”
They fell into a silence which made Derek want to scream until he’d filled the void, and as the car came to a stop in front of the hotel, he realized he’d tensed nearly all of his muscles. He would be sore for days later, and he wondered how long he’d be suffering the repercussions of a death he shouldn’t even be mourning.
