Father & Son: Book two of the Jensen Family Series

by Michelle Day

  “Oh, that’s rough.”

  “Yup. She wants me though, I just know it but she says I’m not ready for a committed monogamous relationship and she’s right. One day though, she’ll be mine and she’ll wonder why she waited so long.” Paul dropped his bowl into the sink and made to rise.

  “Wait a minute.” John rested a hand on his arm and stopped him. “It sounds to me like she’s not ready either. I don’t understand why she would be here with you knowing full well that she’s about to take a very big step and move in with someone.” John watched his words sink in as Paul digested it.

  “For fuck’s sake, I’m so stupid. Why the hell didn’t I bring that nugget of insight up to her last night?”

  “I suspect it wouldn’t have changed her mind.” John told him.

  “Probably not.” He conceded. “Fancy dropping me off at Victoria? I’m going to see Gavin for a couple of days. I figured I’d make the most of not being able to work.”

  “I take it Suzanne is someone we won’t be discussing further?”

  Paul shook his head. No. He wouldn’t be talking about her to anyone else either.

  “I’ll drive you up there, it’s about time the Jag had a decent run and I haven’t seen your house yet.”

  “Cool, thanks John.”

  “Oh and Paul? Good luck hiding that.” He pointed to Paul’s neck making the boy frown and head for a mirror.

  “Terrific.” He said on seeing the rosy skin where Suzanne had sucked on him. “It’s ok, I’ll just have to get Carmen in the right mood and then persuade her that she did it.”

  “That’s cold.”

  “It’s better than the argument it’ll cause if she clocks it first.” He said over his shoulder but he chose his clothes carefully in order to hide the mark on his neck.

  An hour into the journey, having re-tuned the radio, trashed his Uncle’s taste in music and pressed every easily accessible button in the car, Paul turned to his Uncle, fingers drumming on the dashboard in front of him. “Are we going to stop for food soon?”

  John glanced at his nephew as he negotiated his way to the outside lane. “You ate half a box of cereal just over an hour ago, you can’t possibly be hungry yet.”

  “I had a heavy night, expended a lot of energy and the chances are, I’m going to have another one tonight so yeah, I’m hungry, starving in fact and…..” He leant over to see the instrument panel, “We’re going to need fuel soon so pick the services with a decent food area.”

  “You’ll look like a whale by the time you’re thirty if you aren’t careful.” John sneered.

  “What? With my metabolism and hefty workout schedule? No way?” Paul laughed.

  “I was going to argue that sex isn’t considered a workout but I can’t, especially given the enthusiasm you put into it so I’m just going to shut up and find you somewhere to feed your face. You’re paying for the fuel though.”

  “Oh come on, this thing drinks petrol like it’s going out of fashion. I thought I was your favourite nephew.” He protested but he was smiling. “I hope they have some of those chocolate filled donuts.”

  Carmen stopped at the gate as a very nice Jaguar slowed to a stop in front of the house. She put the boys behind her as she turned to face the car, ever mindful that it could easily be an errant reporter reviving the story of the school teacher and her pupil as happened from time to time, she was pleasantly surprised when Paul uncurled himself from the car, she released the boys hands and stepped aside as he kissed her cheek then reached for his son, ruffling Luke’s hair as he settled Gavin into his arms.

  “I wasn’t expecting you until later.” She smiled.

  “John offered to drive and we made good time so here I am.” He snuggled into his sons neck, hugging him tightly as he inhaled the scent of his offspring. “Hello little man.” Paul beckoned to his Uncle to get out of the car saying, “You won’t see the house from there,” as he climbed out before stooping down to hoist Luke onto his other hip, not wanting the little boy to feel left out. “Hi Luke.”

  “Hello.” Luke answered, grinning and poking at Gavin until the younger boy broke into giggles and began to squirm.

  Carmen watched them for a while before suggesting that Paul take the boys into the garden while she showed John around the house pointing out the change of floor plan that had come straight from his nephew’s mind.

  “You’ve had a long drive; you are more than welcome to stay for the night.” She invited.

  “That’s very kind of you and I’d like to take you up on that but perhaps I should see how Paul feels about it first.”

  “That’s probably a good idea. Come on, I’ll show you the garden.”

  Paul had a whale of a time playing with his son and Luke. The terrible two’s had hit Gavin hard and over his many phone calls with Carmen and from her dishevelled appearance earlier, it was clear that the toddler was once again having a bad day and his Mother had taken the brunt of it.

  He seemed happy enough for the time being though as he bounced on the little trampette in the garden with Luke pretending to dive at him and occasionally crawling under it so that the little boy’s feet brushed his stomach as he bounced making the older boy roar with laughter.

  It didn’t last. As soon as Luke scrambled out from under the trampette, Gavin began to grizzle; it appeared he hadn’t had enough of bouncing on his friend. Oblivious to the tantrum countdown happening behind him, Luke made for the slide. Climbing down from the trampette, bottom lip quivering, Gavin grabbed the piece of equipment that just seconds ago was entertaining him and put all his weight into trying to drag it closer to his friend, when this failed, he threw himself on the floor, kicking and screaming in frustration.

  Not entirely sure what had set his son off, Paul reached for him, pulling him into his lap and trying to soothe him while keeping an eye on Luke who had paused at the top of the slide and was watching the screaming toddler.

  Paul huffed out a breath as his sons flailing feet caught his upper thigh, barely missing his groin. In preservation of his man parts, he put the boy on the grass in front of him and began to talk softly then ducking as a tiny fist made its way towards his face.

  “Whoa.” He came to his feet and picked the now hysterical child up, calling out to Luke to come with him, they were making their way up the garden when Carmen and John stepped out of the large patio doors.

  “Oh not again.” Carmen sighed. “What set him off this time?” She called to a rapidly approaching Paul.

  “Not a clue.” He shrugged, “What do I do?”

  “Put him in his play pen and walk away.” Carmen answered, “He’s just evil when he’s like that, the more you try to soothe him, the worse he gets so he’s better off in there.” She bent over the edge of the play pen and removed the toys contained within, “I’ve found its best not to give him anything to throw, he has a hell of a right arm on him and those toys hurt.”

  Gavin went rigid as Paul tried to lower him into the play pen, his little arms shooting out sideways to prevent himself from being put down, his body completely inflexible. When he realised he was losing the battle that usually took his mother a good five minutes, he wrapped his arms around Paul’s neck and hung on for dear life.

  “It seems he’s worked out you are stronger than me.” Carmen spoke as she observed. “He only does that when Art tries to put him down. He’s very bright Paul, you’ll need your wits about you.”

  As distressing as it was to pry the small hands from his neck, he finally managed it and stood back as his son glared up at him while continuing to scream and stomp and rock the hell out of the play pen.

  “Does he do that often?” Paul asked.

  “Oh only about twenty times a day.” She replied.

  “I was about to say like father like son but you weren’t quite that bad.” John laughed, “He’ll get over it Paul, if he sees you getting uptight and upset over it, he’ll do it all the more.”

  Sitting on one of the kitchen chairs a
nd dragging his fingers through his hair, Paul continued to watch as his son thrashed. “Is there nothing we can do?”

  “Nope. I’ve even taken him to the doctor as he strops more than your average two year old. He’s had tests up the wazoo and all the doctors can come up with is that he is of above average intelligence for his age and that he’s trying to keep up with Luke. Being younger and smaller, he gets worn out easily but is now refusing to nap through the day which makes it worse and he seems to comprehend that he can’t do it all which causes this sort of reaction on a regular basis.”

  “Huh. You deserve a medal.” He tore his eyes away from his child and looked up at her.

  Carmen nodded and folded her arms across her chest. “You remember that the next time you call and say you can’t make it.”

  “So.” John dropped into the chair next to Paul’s, “The house is fantastic, I can see why you went that extra mile for it.”

  Shooting his Uncle a look filled with gratitude for stepping into what could have been an argument, Paul nodded in agreement, “It’s in a great location too so win, win all around really. Well would you look at that.” He had returned his gaze to his son who had quietened considerably and was now just hiccupping out the occasional sob but what had caught his attention was Luke.

  With a well-loved teddy bear under his arm, Luke approached the play pen and his sobbing friend and hefted the bear over the edge, dangling it by the ear until Gavin noticed it and reached up and caught hold of the leg, pulling it into his arms, he gave it a hug as he scrambled to his feet and stood to face the older boy.

  At five years old and having always been a robust child, Luke was considered big for his age and was already showing signs of growing into a tall, athletic youngster. He reached for Gavin, the side of the playpen posing no object. Wrapping his arms around the sniffling boy. Luke hugged him and gently patted his back until Gavin’s sniffing subsided whereon he heaved, pulling the younger boy from the play pen to hug him properly then tickle him until he laughed and dropped the bear.

  When both boys wandered away into the living room, Paul turned to Carmen, “Does that happen often?”

  “Actually, yes. Luke is a godsend, he seems to know just what to do to calm Gavin down and sometimes he even manages to stop him from throwing a tantrum altogether. He has a very kind heart bless him. Gavin’s a complete horror when Luke is at school.”

  “Wouldn’t it be a good idea to get Gavin enrolled in nursery or something? You know, so that he gets to play with kids his own age?”

  “I have got him a place; he starts in a couple of months.” She glanced into the living room where the boys were happily watching cartoons. “I have to admit that I’m not looking forward to his first day. As much as I loathe the tantrums, he’s my baby and it’s going to be difficult to leave him there.

  John stayed for the night and took a leisurely drive home the following day. Paul remained behind for a further week, catching up with his son and re-acquainting himself with Carmen, which led to some memorable nights. Carmen’s caring, loving side surfaced when she properly examined his hand and she wasn’t the least bit surprised when he told her he’d lashed out at Michael, she, like everyone else, thought he’d had it coming for a very long time.

  He only left as he had a further appointment at the hospital. Catching the early train, he was pleased to see his mother waiting for him. Although he didn’t miss the dramas of home life, he did miss his mother sorely and when she suggested that they spend the day together after seeing the doctor, he readily agreed.

  After watching intently as the first stitch was pulled from his hand, Paul felt his stomach churn at the sight of it and turned his head away, swallowing the nausea he felt and repeating to himself that he felt sick because he had yet to eat.

  With the stitches removed, he was told to flex his fingers and hold various objects which he did in-between frantic scratching where the stitches had been even though the skin was sore. The doctor was pleased with his overall progress and he was cleared to return to work.

  He indulged his Mother with a spot of shopping, filling her in as they perused on his work at the club and his eventual plan of taking over within the next few years. When his stomach growled, Monica slipped her arm through his and guided him to a restaurant.

  “Will you re-consider coming home?”

  Paul shook his head, declining to answer and instead focussed his full attention on the food in front of him.

  “Your Father has moved out.” Monica stated, she had his attention now; his fork had stopped halfway to his mouth as he looked at her.

  “He has? How come?”

  “I told him too. I needed some time to assess the situation and couldn’t do that with him there. I’d like you to come home.

  He shook his head again. “How long do you expect him to stay away Mum? You know it won’t be forever and by your own admission, you love him and even I have to admit that although he’s a lousy father where I’m concerned, he’s a good husband to you and I refuse to put you in the position of choosing between us.”

  “It isn’t so much of a choice, just instinct, you are my son, I love you and I will always choose you. I haven’t done a very good job at protecting you so far and for that I apologise. Come home Paul and I promise I won’t let any more harm come to you”

  Paul reached across the table and grasped his Mother’s hand. “I don’t need protecting from him Mum; given recent events I’d say it’s sort of the other way around and honestly, the atmosphere at home is just wrong when Dad and I are in the same room. It’s better all-around if I stay where I am. It makes your life easier and I’m ok at John’s.”

  “But I miss you, you are my baby and you’re only eighteen, you should still be at home with your family.” She protested.

  “I am with family and I’m almost nineteen, you will have to let me go at some point.” He told her, “I love you Mum and I promise I won’t become a stranger, we can meet up anytime you want, I just can’t be around him at home, at the office its fine and he won’t start anything there so for the time being, let’s leave things how they are.”

  Monica sighed and covered his hand with her free one, “Very well. You can expect me to be a frequent visitor though. Now,” she patted his hand, “Tell me about my Grandson.”

  Later that week, Monica received a gift wrapped present from one of the shops she had visited with Paul. Upon opening it, she found the dress she had been looking at but had been unable to justify the purchase of. She recognised the slightly slanted bold strokes of handwriting on the note contained within the package and ran her thumb over it, feeling the indentations where the pen had been firmly pressed into the paper, it read, “Promised we wouldn’t be strangers, lunch tomorrow? Love you, Paul xxx” Smiling, she carried the package upstairs to try the dress on for fit, her mind’s eye picturing the perfect pair of shoes and a snazzy bag she had squirreled away that would compliment it perfectly.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Monica found that she actually saw more of her youngest son than she did when he was living at home. Wednesday became their regular meeting for lunch day where they just spent time together, discussing anything from the weather to world events and everything in between. She gleaned several insights into Paul’s life this way and was overjoyed that he appeared happy and relaxed. It also became a regular thing that two days after their lunch together, regardless if she’d seen him in the following days or not, a small gift would arrive for her, always with a hand written note.

  It was after the gift of a particularly extravagant Faberge egg that she had recently begun collecting that she paid an unannounced visit to her brothers flat, surprising both him and her son.

  Paul left the pruning of his Uncle’s Bonsai tree and lowered himself onto the sofa next to her, crossing one leg over the other, he took the post she held out to him while good naturedly listening to the reprimand she delivered upon receiving such an expensive gift. He shrugged off her protestations
and demands to return the egg with, “You’re worth it Mum and now that I can afford such things, it gives me a lot of pleasure to do so. I like going to find that little thing that I know will make you smile.” He glanced at her as he began to open his post, he’d made her blush.

  “It’s hardly a little thing.” She protested.

  “It is to me-” He paused as he read the contents of the letter in his hand, “Phil, you son of a bitch.” He handed the letter to her, “He’s only gone and nominated me for young business man of the year.”

  She looked at the letter and although she had known it was coming, courtesy of a visit from his crew, she hadn’t counted on Paul being upset about it. “It wasn’t just Phil darling, all of your chaps came to see me, they along with the men in Gloucester and the councils you have worked for feel it’s about time you got recognised for your hard work and business acumen.”

  Paul dragged his hands through his hair, “I get paid, that’s all the recognition I need.” He huffed. “I take it by your silence; you also knew this was coming?” He addressed his Uncle.

  “I did and I think it’s well deserved especially now that you’re taking over the night club, if nothing else think of the publicity it’ll garner at the awards ceremony.”

  “Yeah, the publicity will be awesome, unless I lose.” Paul bit out.

  John countered with, “I’ve often heard you say that there’s no such thing as bad publicity.”

  “I guess I’ll find out won’t I? Fortunately, up until now, all the publicity I’ve had has been good.”

  “Yep.” John rose; he was heading out to meet a potential new client. “But up until now, all you’ve had to do for it is smile for the camera and look pretty, now perhaps the vultures, sorry, Press will see that you are much more than just a pretty face.”

  Silence ensued as John left and Paul mulled over what had been said, “I’m actually very flattered.” He said, “And a little embarrassed.”