by Pandora Pine
When it came to the bedroom, that was another story. I’d done my fair share of fucking around. Who hasn’t? The difference between me and other, normal men, is that the second I started feeling anything at all for the guy I was banging, I was out the door.
Over the years I’d kept up with the scientific literature on kids who’d grown up in homes like I lived in with my mother or who grew up in foster care. We all seemed to fall into two categories: people who would do anything for love to avoid living like they did as kids and people like me and my brothers who would do anything to avoid love. It wasn’t a coincidence that all three of us were in our thirties and hadn’t settled down yet.
All of the lights were blazing in Gunnar’s house when I pulled into my driveway. I’d noticed they always were. It made me wonder if he was afraid of the dark. Not that I was going to come out and ask him. I had a feeling he was afraid of everything right now, including me. He had a right to be after the way I shouted at him earlier. I really was a dick.
Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do about that sorry state of affairs at the moment. I climbed my stairs and let myself into the house. It was cool and quiet. I hated that. I’d thought about getting myself a dog or a cat but couldn’t seem to commit to a pet either. What scared me the most was that the animal had an expiration date. I wasn’t sure I could deal with loving and then losing something I absolutely cherished. My mind was one rocky-ass minefield tonight.
After a cool shower, I felt more human, but I was worn to the bone. I’d wanted to jack off in the shower but didn’t even have the energy for that. I hoped I wasn’t coming down with the puking bug. That was the last thing I needed. I couldn’t help thinking about my parents willingly exposing themselves to the biohazard. My mom had been in the men’s room rubbing backs while the guys hurled. Just like she’d done with us as kids.
I’d like to think I have that kind of empathy in me, that my early experiences don’t completely define who I am as a man.
When I was dried off and dressed in a clean pair of boxers, I spotted my phone on the nightstand. I hit the home button and no one had called or texted while I was in the shower. My mind turned again to Gunnar. Was he okay? Had he gotten infected by the stomach bug. Was he suffering? Sleeping?
After the way I treated him today, he sure in hell wasn’t going to call me if he were in trouble. Knowing I could regret this later, I grabbed my phone and called him before I could think better of it. Gunnar’s line rang and rang. Just when I was about to hang up, a weak voice answered, “Hello?”
“Gunnar? It’s Kennedy. Are you okay?” Christ had I just woken him up or was he sick?
“Dying, I think,” he muttered and gagged.
I would know that sound anywhere. “I’ll be right over. Can you unlock the door for me?”
“Hate me,” Gunnar half-whispered.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Open the door.” I hung up without waiting for him to answer. Quickly throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, I hustled out of my room and downstairs. Twisting my feet into my sneakers, I grabbed my keys and was out the door.
My heart was pounding in my chest and it wasn’t from my sprint down the stairs and out the door. How long had he been sick? I knew he was upset with me, but why hadn’t he called my mother?
When I got to the top of his front steps, I tried the door. It was still locked. “Gunnar, it’s me. Open the door.” My stomach ached with worry. What if he’d passed out with his head in the toilet bowl? I wasn’t above grabbing a sledgehammer and pounding my way into the house if it came down to that. Just as I was trying to remember where I’d put my hammer, the door opened a crack.
“Holy shit!” I said under my breath. I’d seen dead people who looked better than Gunnar did. “You look awful.”
“And the horse you rode in on.” Gunnar gagged, his hands slapping over his mouth as he took off running for the bathroom.
Maybe that hadn’t been the best opening line of my life. I let myself into the house and locked the door behind me. Even with the door shut, I could hear Gunnar retching. I took a deep breath through my mouth and followed him.
I was about to knock on the bathroom door when I heard Gunnar start to cry. In that moment, my heart broke for him. He was sick and alone with no family here to support him. All he had was me. My gut instinct told me to barge in there and force him to believe everything was going to be all right. Before I made a bigger mess of things, I stopped and thought about how Mandy would handle this. She would have known Gunnar needed a gentler touch. It wasn’t my stock in trade, but I would do my best.
Rapping a knuckle against the door, I let myself into the bathroom. Gunnar was on his knees with his face resting against the toilet seat. I hit the flush valve and grabbed a clean washcloth. I couldn’t help snickering.
“What the fuck could possibly be funny in this moment?” Gunnar didn’t bother to raise his head. “Poetic justice that I poisoned everyone at the station and now I’m in the same boat?”
I dipped the soft cloth under the cool water tap before kneeling beside him. “No, silly boy. I have these exact towels in my house. So do Ozzy, Hennessey, and Dallas. My mom was always in the habit of buying us boys the exact same things so none of us could say the other was her favorite.”
“Yeah, okay. You’re just glad this thing bit me in the ass too.”
“No, I’m not. I’m so sorry I said that to you. I’m a total asshole. Sometimes I talk before I think and I was just so worried about my brother and the rest of the firehouse. I needed someone to blame because I couldn’t save any of them. I picked you. Can you ever forgive me?”
Gunnar nodded, looking more miserable now than he had when he answered the door.
Silent tears poured out of Gunnar’s eyes as I wiped his sweaty face down. He definitely had a fever. I hung the cloth on the rack and scooped Gunnar into my arms. “There was this one Christmas, it was my second with the McCoys. The in toy that year was those stuffed dogs. Pound Puppies, I think they were called. Mom got all four of us different dogs and oh man did we fight!” I snorted. “We fought so much, we ruined Christmas.”
“Ruined Christmas?” Gunnar’s voice was weak.
I set Gunnar down on the bed. “My mom took the four dogs and shut herself in her room.” I would never forget that Christmas as long as I lived. “David sat the four of us down on the couch and paced in front of us without saying a word. We all burst into tears from the guilt.”
“Poor Mandy. Did you manage to be a hero and save Christmas?”
I’d never thought of myself as a hero, especially since I’d been part of the reason Christmas had been ruined in the first place. “We all were heroes, I guess. All four of us headed to my mother’s bedroom and peeked in the door. She was sitting on the side of the bed with her head in her hands. Our little stuffed dogs were lined up at the front of the bed looking like they were going to jump off. We all grabbed the dog we’d been given and climbed over Mandy, making sad puppy sounds and rubbing the dogs against her face and arms. She started laughing and Christmas was saved.”
Gunnar was looking at me like I hung the moon. My stomach twisted with the ramifications of that look. There wasn’t time to think about it now, not with him being so sick. “Can I get you anything?”
“Another cool cloth?” Gunnar offered a week smile.
“Sure thing. I’ll be right back.”
“My guardian angel,” he whispered as I walked toward the bathroom.
I didn’t believe that for a minute. Gunnar must have a higher fever than I thought.
16
Gunnar
I wanted to die. Not in a melodramatic, tell-my-mother-I-love-her way, but literally. My entire body ached, even my hair. My teeth felt funny in my gums and I kept going back and forth between feeling like I’d been left on an arctic ice floe to stuck in an oven set to char-broil. Death was preferable to all that, and so much more.
What was worse than all these things combined was the dream
I had. In it, Kennedy was here seeing to my every need. He put cool cloths on my head and did his best to keep me warm or cool depending on my circumstance. He’d even told me stories about growing up in the McCoy house. It was all a dream. When I woke up a few seconds ago, Mandy McCoy was sitting with me, reading a Harlequin Romance novel.
“Kennedy?” My eyes felt like they were glued together. I was too weak to open them all the way.
“No, honey, it’s Mandy.” Her full attention was on me, as was her right hand checking for a fever. “You’re still running warm.”
Hearing Mandy confirm Kennedy wasn’t here confirmed my suspicion that what I’d had was a very vivid dream. Damn it. That scene with Kennedy’s apology and him carrying me to bed were the only things I’d had that made this situation worthwhile.
“I sent him out to get something to eat and shower, sweetie. Kennedy said he’d be back later. I don’t think he slept last night.” Mandy wore a frown.
“You mean he really was here? I didn’t hallucinate him?” Kennedy stayed awake all night? No, that couldn’t possibly be true. Could it?
“No, he was really here. Wouldn’t leave your side even though I was afraid he’d catch this bug from you.” Mandy fussed with the tangled sheet around my middle. I couldn’t even remember my own mother doing anything like this for me.
Now wasn’t the time to think about that. I’d been out of the house for a month and there hadn’t been any contact from my mother at all. It was like I was truly dead to her. “How did you and David decide to become foster parents?”
The surprised look on Mandy’s face made me think I’d made a mistake in asking her. Shock quickly turned to surprise. “Hennessey was the light of my life. My little boy was everything to me.” Her eyes had gone misty.
Never in my life had my mother ever said anything like that about me. I was a lot of things, but not the light of her life. I was worried about where this story was going. Could Mandy not have any other biological children?
“There was a boy in his kindergarten class named Jimmy. He was the sweetest little boy. Blond with blue eyes and a missing front tooth. When he met people he’d grab on to your pant leg and smile up at you.” A lone tear slid down her cheek. “His mother was selling herself to finance her drug habit and his father was out of the picture, if he’d ever been in it at all.”
I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. This wasn’t going to end well. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear how it ended, but I had to. “What happened?” My voice was barely above a whisper.
“Jimmy found his mother’s drug stash when she was sleeping off a bender.” Mandy swiped at the tears flowing down her face. “He died alone on the dirty floor of his mother’s double wide.”
My own emotions were out of control. That poor boy.
“Division of Children and Family Services had been out to the trailer half a dozen times in the two short months Jimmy had been enrolled in school. They should have taken him from the house, but they didn’t.” Mandy straightened her spine as she took a deep breath. “Even if they had, David and I were in no position to bring another child into our home at the spur of the moment. I went to the library the next day while Hennessey was in school and I grabbed every book I could find on being a foster parent. David and I went out and furnished the spare bedroom with twin beds. Then we were approved as foster parents. A month later, we got our first child, Quentin. His mother had been in a similar situation to Jimmy’s. Only, she turned her life around. He lived with us for three years while his mother got her life back together. I hated giving him back but returning the child to the bio parent is always their goal.”
“Is he okay?” I was still gobsmacked by the story Mandy had told me.
“We see him all the time. He’s a life flight pilot. As Quentin got older, he chose to come stay with us. Got himself emancipated and spent his high school years in our home. Those were the best times of my life, having my five boys in the house. They nearly ate me and David out of house and home, but it was worth it.” Her eyes were misty again, but this time from joy rather than sorrow. “Being a mom is what I was born to do.”
“Is that why you’re being so kind to me?” Did she see me as some poor little orphan boy?
Mandy’s head shifted to the side. She seemed to be studying me. “You’re a special young man, Gunnar. Being a mom might be what I was born to do, but it doesn’t mean that every mother feels the same way. You might have hit the jackpot with your parents having money, but that doesn’t mean you hit the parent jackpot.”
Wasn’t that the truth. “I can’t thank you enough for looking after me and telling Kennedy that everyone getting sick wasn’t my fault.”
That thoughtful look came back into her blue eyes. “Do you know the story about what happened to Kennedy’s real mother?”
As far as I was concerned, Mandy was his real mother, but I wasn’t going to give voice to those words. I nodded instead.
“Kennedy felt like her death was his fault.”
“His fault?” Okay, maybe I hadn’t heard the entire story.
Mandy reached out to brush a stray lock of hair off my face. “He doesn’t tell the story very often. It took me three years before he would tell me what wasn’t in the police report.”
“That sounds like Kennedy.” Stubborn to his core.
“The last fight started over Kennedy not having done his homework. He was watching a television show and was going to get to it when it ended. The mother’s boyfriend took exception to that and hit him. For the first time in her life, Kitty stood up to her boyfriend, so he went after her instead. When she was dead, he came after Kennedy. Thankfully, the police burst through the door before anything else could happen to him. He landed on my doorstep a few hours later. I knew from the moment I set eyes on him that he was meant to be my son.”
Damn, that was one hell of a story. “How long did it take for Kennedy to realize the same thing?” I knew it hadn’t happened overnight.
“It was the night he finally told me what happened when his mother was killed. He’d just turned thirteen and we’d been having some behavioral problems with him acting out. We took him to see a counselor so that he would have someone to help him sort out his feelings. What he told us a few weeks later was that he couldn’t save his mother. All these years later and he felt guilt that he’d been the catalyst that led to her death.”
Damn. I sat with those words for a few seconds. I wasn’t the sharpest tool in the drawer when it came to human relationships, but I could see the reason for Kennedy blowing up at me yesterday. “His brother was sick and there was nothing he could do to make that go away, so he yelled at the person he thought caused the situation. Me.”
“I think that has a lot to do with it. Once Kennedy realized he had a true family, he became fiercely loyal to all of us and the other foster kids who drifted in and out of our house over the years. Once you were part of Kennedy’s pack, you were in it for life, so to speak. We had a few issues with him being a bit,” Mandy paused, obviously searching for the right word, “overzealous.”
I managed to snicker. “Yeah, I can see that about him. How is Ozzy doing this morning?”
Mandy’s face lit up with a bright smile. “He’s better. Still running a bit of a fever and was looking a little green, but he’s going to be just fine. It will be a cold day in hell when a stomach bug brings down my stubborn boy.”
“Talking about me behind my back, Mom?” Kennedy asked from the bedroom door.
His sudden appearance scared the hell out of me. I hadn’t heard him come back in the house or climb the stairs.
“Of course not, sweetheart.” She rolled her eyes. “Gunnar asked how Ozzy was doing this morning and I was telling him that my stubborn son was better. I can see where you thought I was talking about you.” Mandy set a hand on my shoulder. “Try some small sips of water. I know you’ll feel the urge to chug it, but don’t. You don’t want it going out through the in door. I’ll check on you late
r. Sleep if you need to.” Mandy hugged Kennedy and was gone.
“You’re looking better this morning.” Kennedy took the chair his mother had vacated.
“I feel like I was hit by a bus.” Kennedy looked amazing. His dirty-blond hair was damp and I could smell his fresh soap. If I didn’t know better, I’d guess he was in a hurry to get back here. To me. Shit, I must still have a fever to be having thoughts like that.
“Ozzy said the same thing when I spoke to him this morning. He’s on the mend though. So are the rest of the guys.” Kennedy gave his shoulder a careless shrug.
“I thought I’d hallucinated the whole thing.” I could feel the color rising high on my cheeks. I was hoping Kennedy would think it was the fever coming back.
“What whole thing? Me being here to save your ass last night?” His lips curved into a drop-dead sexy grin.
“It wasn’t my ass that needed saving.” At least, not in the beginning. That part came later.
“I knew Ozzy would be all right by himself. He’d call my parents if things were worse than he could handle. You, on the other hand, needed me.” Kennedy’s blue eyes went wide. Obviously, he hadn’t meant to let that slip.
My heart sang at those words. Of course I needed him. Wanted him. After he’d blamed me for poisoning the firehouse, I wasn’t about to tell him that. I was still going to hold that close to my heart. I took a different tact instead. “I did need you. If you hadn’t shown up, I would have spent the night with my head resting on the toilet seat.”
Kennedy snorted before a serious look overcame his features. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“I’m glad you didn’t get this thing. It’s pretty fucking miserable.” That was no word of a lie.
“Do what my mom said. Take baby sips. Sleep when you need to.”
“It’s Monday. My shift at the firehouse starts in two hours. I need to be there for my team.” I’d almost said family. I was going to keep that to myself as well.
“Are you kidding me? Twelve hours ago, you were knocking on heaven’s door. You’re not going to work today, and neither are the other guys. Ozzy is there already, but I swear he’s superhuman.” Kennedy got up from his seat. He pressed a quick kiss to my forehead. “Feel better. I’ll text you later.”