Nevvie fought back a wave of emotions threatening to swamp her. Anger at Marcus for dragging Tyler to Brussels. Anger at herself for feeling so petty that she felt angry at a guy who was now dead.
Anger at whichever of her children just slammed a fucking door, hard, making her jump.
The culprit was likely female.
Instead of replying, Nevvie got up, made the bed, and headed to the bathroom. After grabbing her robe, she went downstairs, following the scent of brewing coffee.
Mikey sat at the kitchen table, where he was eating a bowl of cereal. She kissed the top of his head on her way to pour herself a mug of coffee. “Thanks for starting the coffeemaker.”
“I didn’t,” he said. “One of the twins did.”
That shocked her enough to make her turn. “Really?”
“Yeah.”
They never took the initiative for something like that. “Huh.”
“I know, right?” He smiled. “They’re taking the bus, though, sorry. I need to be out of here in ten minutes. I have to meet with coach before school. I’m not going to be late because of them.”
Ah. She fixed her coffee. Now she knew their game. One—or both—were going to try to talk her into driving them to school so they could avoid taking the bus. Being driven to school by Mom was lame, but not as lame as the bus.
She turned and leaned against the counter as she sipped her coffee. She could play this game way better than either of them could. It would all depend on how she timed things.
“Poppa texted me. They said hi to everyone, and love you.”
Mikey sat up. “Did Dad’s friend die?”
She nodded. “Late yesterday.”
“Sorry.” He poked at his cereal instead of plowing into it again. “I was sort of mad when you said he wasn’t coming home. I know I shouldn’t feel like that, because it sucks his friend died.”
“It’s okay, honey. Poppa and I were bummed, too. Sometimes, we need to adult and do the right thing. Once they finish over there, they’ll come home and we can finally relax for a while.”
“Until Dad’s locked in his office again,” he mumbled.
“Are you complaining about that truck you drive? Or this nice house we live in? Or the fact that we can afford to let you play football? Or send you to whatever college you want to go to?”
He sighed. “No, ma’am.” He glanced toward the kitchen doorway and lowered his voice. “I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t invited Willow and Zoey to the party.”
This was unusual. Mikey was normally a really conscientious big brother, protective of and mostly patient toward his little sisters. “Why?”
“I didn’t know Zoey was so into Cole. She’s tripping all over herself around him. She acts like a dork at the party, it’s going to cause me trouble with my friends.”
“Cole?”
“Cole Johnson. He’s on my team. Another senior. He’ll be there.”
“Oh. Well, uninvite them.”
“I can’t do that. The twins will make life hell for me.”
“Then knuckle under, honey. I don’t know what else to tell you.” She sipped her coffee. “I’m not getting in the middle of this. If I do, none of you will be going to the party, and you know it.”
“I know.” He seemed to remember he wanted to be out of there without the twins and started to gobble his cereal when he heard a door open and close upstairs.
“Don’t forget to put your bowl in the dishwasher.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Nevvie chuckled and topped off her coffee before heading back to her room, where she locked herself in. They’d made a point as parents to force the kids to work out disagreements between them with as little interference from them as possible. It was a tactic that had worked for Peggy and Adam Kinsey raising their brood, and it was working well for them.
They’d taught their children early on that they absolutely did not want to bring parental rulings into the mix, because none of them would like the solutions imposed on them at that point. Everyone would absolutely be a loser.
It’d taught the four of them to negotiate and compromise.
With a few exceptions. Usually between the twins.
When Nevvie heard Mikey’s truck start and drive out of the yard a few minutes later, one of the girls let out a screech.
Nevvie started to count and only got to four before someone tried her bedroom doorknob, then pounded on her door.
“Mom! Mikey left without us!”
Willow.
Nevvie had been sitting on her bed, going through Tyler’s public e-mail account to weed through what he’d need to look at and what she could answer for him. “Then I suggest you hurry up and get ready to catch the bus,” she called back.
“You can’t drive us?”
“I can, but I won’t, especially with you making the assumption I would and not bothering to ask me nicely. If you miss the bus this morning, you’re grounded. Not only will you be taking the bus to and from school until December, you’ll be missing the party this weekend, too. Your choice. We and your brother are not your personal Uber service.”
She sipped her coffee, smiling when Willow made an aggravated noise as she retreated down the hall toward her room.
At least Willow would make the bus.
If Zoey thought she could be sly and try to get out of taking it, she’d have another think coming.
As it drew closer to the time for the girls to leave for the bus stop, Nevvie once again ventured downstairs. This time, taking the tablet with her. She refilled her coffee and settled in on the sofa in front of the TV.
Zoey followed her from the kitchen. With her long, dark brown hair and brown eyes, the Kinsey family genes were strong in her. She looked like a younger version of her aunt Karen, one of Tommy’s older sisters, whereas Willow strongly resembled Adam…and Tyler.
“Mommy—”
“No. You’re taking the bus. Period. Keep pushing me, and you can both forget the party Saturday night.”
A huffy sigh escaped Zoey. She pivoted on her heel and returned to the kitchen, muttering to Willow low under her breath.
Nevvie only got a “Mommy” from them lately when they wanted something. She also knew damn well if Tommy or Tyler were home that they wouldn’t be trying this nonsense. It was only on the rare occasions when it was only one of them—or she was gone and it was Tommy and Ty who were home—that they tried manipulation.
Fifteen minutes later, and both girls were out the door and walking down to the bus stop.
After breathing a sigh of relief, Nevvie pulled her phone out of the pocket of her robe and replied to Tommy’s text.
I’m vertical and child-free now.
Her phone rang in her hand less than a minute later.
She smiled as she answered. “Hey, stranger.”
* * * *
Tom smiled and closed his eyes as he leaned back against the couch. “Hey, sugar. How’s our baby girl?”
“I’ve already managed to piss off two fifteen-year-old girls before my third cup of coffee, so I’d say pretty good.”
“Uh-oh. What happened?”
Nevvie recounted her morning thus far to Tom, who chuckled. “They’re about as hard to see through as a glass of water.”
“Right?”
“And you’re the one who said they could go to the party.”
“I know. But they have to start somewhere. At a party with their older brother, who will keep an eye on them, or at the very least rat them out if they get into the bad kind of trouble to keep himself out of serious trouble, is probably a safer place to start than them going to someone else’s party without him.”
“True.”
“How’s Ty?”
Tom dropped his voice. “Going through the kitchen and making a shopping list to get us through the next couple of days. Goossens will be coming for us soon to take us to his office.”
“Who?”
“The attorney.”
“Ah. What’s
the place like?”
“Not bad. Two bedrooms, two baths, but one bedroom is an office right now. I need to know more before I give Ty my honest opinion.”
“Doesn’t bother you it was…his?”
“That’s…complicated.” He didn’t want to have that discussion with Tyler nearby.
“Gotcha. He can hear you?”
“Exactly. That’s why I love you, baby girl. You’re quick.”
“How’s your pain?”
“Bad. And walking down and up two flights of stairs won’t help, either.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah. Exactly. You want to talk to the evil genius?”
“Of course. Love you.”
“Love you, too, baby girl.” He looked over his shoulder at the kitchen. “Ty.”
His head popped up like a meerkat from behind the counter. “Yes?”
He held up his phone. “Nev.”
Tyler nearly tripped over himself racing to take it from him. “Hello, love.” Finally, a true smile on his guy’s face.
Tom settled back and relaxed, watching Tyler. Tyler rounded the couch to sit as he talked with Nevvie.
Tyler had spent the morning sitting on the far end of the couch, working on his laptop and getting anything for Tom that he wanted when Tom wasn’t dozing. Then, when Tyler had sussed out the true depth of Tom’s pain levels, he’d unilaterally decided they’d eat in tonight and he’d cook, leading to him more thoroughly exploring the kitchen.
A focus.
Tom thought maybe Tyler would want to start sorting through the apartment’s contents, but he hadn’t, other than the kitchen.
Fine with him. At least Ty seemed to be a little steadier now.
After he got off the phone with Nevvie, Ty handed it back to him. “If you aren’t feeling up to navigating the stairs—”
“I’m not, but I’m still going with you. And I didn’t mean you needed to cook the whole time we’re here.”
“I’d rather not eat out tonight. I would like to explore the city a little before we leave, but not today. I won’t feel much like it, I’m sure, after we’re finished at the attorney’s office.”
“Okay, buddy. That sounds like a plan to me.”
“Once we talk with him, we can find out how long this will take. I’d rather finish it now. That way, any future visits can be simply for pleasure.”
Tom nodded, knowing at this point it was best to let Tyler talk.
“We can keep a bank account here locally to pay for utilities and expenses. That would likely be wise, yes?”
Tom nodded, watching him, seeing a familiar pattern emerge. Whether Tyler realized it or not, Tyler had already decided to keep the apartment. That was fine with Tom.
As long as Tyler was at peace. That’s all Tom cared about.
That, and that his guy was happy.
If those two parameters were met, Tom was good with it.
Tyler had finished with the kitchen when the apartment phone rang. It took Tom a moment to place the noise, because it didn’t sound like any phone ringer he was used to.
Tyler, already up and moving around, found the receiver on a small side table in the dining room area and answered.
“Hello? … Right, we’ll head down, then. Thank you.” Tyler hung up.
“Goossens?”
“Yes. He said he’s less than ten minutes away.”
Tom had moved to stand but Tyler rushed over to help him. “I’ll get the keys. And your medicine.”
“Thanks, sugar.” Tom hobbled over to the foyer and pulled on his overcoat. He’d worn slacks and a button-up shirt today, because they’d be at the attorney’s office. But after this was finished, he’d be wearing comfy sweats when they returned.
Tyler returned with the keys and they double-checked them in the door before locking it behind them. It felt…odd.
Tom slowly made his way down the stairs, Tyler hovering at his side with every step. They once again didn’t see anyone else, but they did hear noises of other people in the building. By the time they reached the bottom of the stairs, Tom knew he’d be taking another pain pill after arriving at the attorney’s office.
“Are you all right, love? Your color doesn’t look good.”
“Just a lot of pain, buddy. Not even going to try to hide it.”
“Do you wish to postpone this?”
Tom’s laugh echoed through the empty foyer. “I’m already downstairs. Let’s do this. I might send you out to explore the city without me, though, depending on how I do over the next couple of days.”
It looked like Tyler was going to respond, but Goossens’ car pulled up in front of the building, into one of the parking spaces there.
“Let’s get this over with,” Tom said, pushing the door open.
The sooner they did, the sooner he could permanently evict Marcus from Tyler’s brain.
Forever.
Chapter Eleven
Goossens skillfully negotiated the traffic through the drizzling rain. Not that the traffic was bad compared to Tampa or Atlanta during morning rush hour, but maybe it was bad by Brussels standards. One nice thing was that English signs were everywhere in the city. It wasn’t hard for a Yank like Tom to figure things out. He’d watched where they were going as they drove, even looked it up on a tracking app on his phone. In spite of his pain, he wanted to get a feel for the city since it was obvious they’d be returning here on a regular basis.
At least at first. For now.
With the kids almost grown, it’d be nice for the three of them to get away from time to time in a way they hadn’t for far too long. Bring Nevvie here and take their time exploring the city. He could see the three of them cooking in that kitchen—after going through it and making it theirs, of course. And the bedroom.
Although he wouldn’t deny the bed was comfortable. No complaints there, other than it might be too small for all three of them.
Goossens’ office was located in a modern office building in the Evere municipality to the north and east of the main downtown of Brussels. Their destination was the third floor.
Fortunately, the building had an elevator.
Tom leaned on Tyler, held on to his arm with one hand, his cane with the other, and felt guilty he was slowing them down as he hobbled along the hall.
Goossens turned. “Are you all right, Mr. Kinsey?”
“Tom. And no. I have a bum leg, a souvenir from a bad motorcycle accident years ago. I fell a few days back and it’s reminding me what a stupid idea it was for me to get on a ladder in the first place.”
“Ah, I’m sorry.”
Goossens led them into his office and, fortunately, there was a sofa Tom could stretch out on. Tyler brought him a glass of water and Tom washed down a pain pill. “If I fall asleep, just take notes to fill me in. Sorry.”
The attorney was efficient, cut to the chase, and laid out the entirety of the inheritance. The apartment was worth nearly four hundred thousand dollars, US. Free and clear, no mortgage or liens on it. There was an annual building fee all the residents paid, like a condo association fee, and a monthly building maintenance fee, but that wasn’t very much.
All the contents within now belonged to them, as did a storage space in the basement, which was apparently what the unidentified key fit. Utilities were also negligible compared to what Tom was used to paying in the States.
There were several bank accounts, and a life insurance policy. In total, almost three quarters of a million dollars, in addition to the apartment.
Stunned, Tom stared at Tyler’s face as it drew into a blank mask while he digested that information.
Goossens seemed used to things like this and waited him out.
Ty finally swallowed, licked his lips, and in a quiet voice asked, “Say again?”
“Marcus was very…thrifty? He and Jean-Claude built up their savings. There was a life insurance policy on Jean-Claude that paid out upon his death. Also, Marcus was drawing a retirement pension, which will now, of cour
se, cease.”
“Obviously,” Tyler said, still in that soft, stunned tone.
Goossens started going over things like taxes and what steps had to be taken for them to complete the transfer of everything, and that’s when Tom’s pain pill kicked in and he started to zone out. He texted Nevvie before falling too far under its pull.
Don’t expect us home before Monday. Maybe soon after that but don’t know. Will take several days, at least, to go through everything.
She replied a few minutes later.
A lot?
With the pain pill now taking hold, his brain felt fuzzy, slow, like trying to think through a molasses film.
Way more than I thought. We need time to deal with the paperwork.
Not just that, even in his current drugged state Tom could tell from the look on Tyler’s face that it would take him several days to mentally and emotionally process everything. He wouldn’t rush him, either. They could literally afford for Tyler to take some time off like this, and he could work while he was here, if he had to.
Tyler would have to deal with his emotions now, or it would come out in other ways, negative ways that would impact his writing.
If it didn’t already.
Goossens brought over forms for Tom to sign, and he did, scribbling his name where told, not even bothering to read them. Totally unlike him, but he was beyond the give-a-fuck stage.
All he wanted to do was get this finished, return to the apartment, and snuggle up with Tyler while the skies outside dumped on them and he could forget the world for a little while.
* * * *
I need to call Bob.
Their long-time friend and attorney back in Florida would need to know about all of this to coordinate with their CPA regarding what they’d need to do to protect themselves and their new assets, as well as amending their wills to include the apartment.
At least the money he left us can pay for the apartment’s expenses.
It wouldn’t be a drain on them. Not for a long time. Not that he would have balked at paying a modest amount, but Tyler wasn’t exactly unconscientious when it came to managing their money.
Love Slave for Two: Resilience [Love Slave for Two 5] (Siren Publishing Menage Everlasting) Page 10