Anything for Us

2 weeks passed since Dakota and Hendrix came to live with us. In between school and making sure Dakota doesn’t break down and keeping Hendrix happy, Dakota’s mom has declared she won’t sign over parental rights, so Joaquin is going ahead with the trial. It was announced two days ago that the hearing would be in a month’s time – so Dakota and Hendrix would be staying here a little longer. Not that I mind, obviously.

In these two weeks, I’ve had the school basketball playoffs. I’m proud to say that we (The Huskies) won every game and are now through to the Varsity Championships at the beginning of March. My celebration make-out and handjob exchange with Dakota was much appreciated. Zach didn’t appreciate it though – he walked in on us. Hah.

But anyway, tomorrow is Valentines Day, a Saturday, and Dakota and I were discussing our plans after dinner. Dakota and I were lying on my bed, Dakota’s head resting in the crook of my neck as we talked. Scott was picking up Dad from the hotel while Rocco taught Hendrix the fine art of picking a lock with a bobby pin (don’t ask), so Dakota and I were alone. The announcement he’d just made surprised me though.

“So instead of spending Valentines Day with me, like you practically beg me to every year, you’re spending it with your brothers?” I mused, raising an eyebrow at Dakota.

“We got special permission from the courthouse to spend the weekend with Joaquin, seeing as we can’t actually go to see him whenever we want to. I just…I miss him,” Dakota said softly.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I soothed, cupping his face with my hand, “I’ll still be here when the weekend is over. We can have a movie and popcorn night just the two of us,”

“A delayed Valentines Day?” Dakota asked hopefully.

“Sure, if that’s what you want to call it,” I chuckled.

Dakota beamed at me, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before leaping off my bed, presumably running out of my room to find his brother. I just smiled and rested my head back on my pillow. I’m glad Dakota’s happy – I just wish I didn’t know how awkward tomorrow was going to be. We haven’t had a family dinner out in a while. This will not be fun.

*

“Here’s your table, Sirs. Your waitress Katie will be over in just a minute to take your drink orders,”

Dad nodded his thanks, sitting down in his chair next to Scott while Rocco and I sat opposite them. They’d been lovey-dovey and sickeningly cute ever since Scott arrived back from the hotel with Dad, and it was making me feel a little nauseous. I’ve said it before and I will say it again – keep that shit private.

“Hi, I’m Katie, I’ll be your waitress for this evening. Can I get you any drinks?”

“I’ll have a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon,” my dad said.

“I’ll have the same,” Scott smiled.

“Diet coke,” I said.

“Regular coke,” Rocco said.

As our waitress wrote that down, Dad’s phone rang.

“Shit, that’s Monica. I’ve been trying to reach her all night. Do you mind?” Dad asked, wriggling his phone.

His art contact in Holland. Total priority, not.

“Of course not, sweetheart,” Scott said sweetly.

“Thanks, baby,” Dad smiled.

Rocco gagged slightly and I just wrinkled my nose. Dad left the table.

“Actually, I think I’ll run to the bathroom. I won’t be long,” Scott announced.

“Whatever,” I shrugged.

Scott left.

“It must be so nice having Dads that are that happily married,” the waitress said cheerfully, tucking her notepad into her pocket.

Rocco scoffed and I grimaced, a wave of irritation washing over me. Who the fuck is she to butt her nose in like that? She doesn’t know a fucking thing about us.

“The blonde guy isn’t our Dad,” Rocco sneered.

“And they aren’t married,” I said.

“Just fucking,” Rocco added.

“Why the fuck would we be happy about some guy sleeping with our Dad?” I grumbled.

“He doesn’t mean a fucking thing, he’s just a replacement for our Mom,” Rocco spat.

Maybe that one was a bit harsh, but whatever. Even if she was just trying to make conversation, she has no right talking about our family like that. Scott may be settling in to our house, but he will never be our Dad.

“O-Oh, sorry. Um, I’ll be back with your drinks in a minute,”

“Good,” Rocco muttered.

She walked away.

“Fucking bitch, sticking her fucking nose in. Scott isn’t our Dad,” Rocco said angrily.

“We’re in public, calm down. I know Scott will never be our Dad, or even mean anything to us, but we can’t let Dad know that. He loves the clueless idiot – we can’t break that,” I said firmly.

Rocco just huffed.

A couple of seconds later, Scott rejoined the table, Dad not long after that. For some reason, the meal was really fucking awkward. Scott barely spoke and our Dad rarely speaks anyway. And with Rocco in a mood about the waitress’s comment about Scott, I sure as hell wasn’t going to have an input.

A few hours later, we were back at the house. Dad was staying for the night just to spend time with Scott, so Rocco and I were heading out – me to a party at one of the guys from the basketball team and Rocco to a friend’s house from his art class. Anything to avoid their fucking.

But what we heard from the front lounge as we walked towards the front door was the last thing we expected.

“What am I supposed to do, Richard? They hate me,” Scott sobbed.

“Angel and Rocco don’t hate you, baby. They’re just getting used to you,” Dad soothed.

“You didn’t hear what they said to that waitress,” Scott choked, shaking his head.

My jaw dropped slightly and I looked at Rocco, only to see his eyes bulging in surprise. Fuck, he overheard us?

“What did they say?” Dad frowned.

“She commented on how nice it must be to have such happily married Dads, and then they started saying stuff about how I’m not their Dad and how we’re not married and that I’m just a fuck. Then they said how could they ever be happy with me being a replacement for their Mom and that I don’t mean anything to them. When she walked away they didn’t even stop, they just said how they couldn’t ever let you know how little I mean to them because you love me, the clueless idiot,”

Scott’s tears were running down his cheeks now, his words barely understandable through his sobbing. A lump rose in my throat, not liking how distraught Scott genuinely was. I didn’t need to look at Rocco to know he wasn’t happy at Scott being this upset because of us.

“Holy shit,” Dad groaned.

“I don’t know how much longer I can deal with this. I can’t…I just…I can’t be in a house where I’m thought so little of,” Scott whispered.

Shit. He…shit! He isn’t going to do what I think he is, is he?!

“Scott, come on, everything will be okay. Everything will work out, I swear,” Dad said desperately.

“Will it?” Scott laughed bitterly, “Do you really think I’ll be able to stay here with them on my own while you’re in the hotel, knowing exactly what they think of me?”

Tears came to Dad’s eyes, and I bit my bottom lip. Fuck. This is the first person he’s loved since mom and we are so close to ruining it for him. Fuck.

“Please don’t leave me. I’ll talk to the boys, I’ll sort this out. I love you, Scott. I can’t lose you,” Dad choked.

I felt Rocco’s hand on my shoulder, tugging me backwards, so I went with him, the two of us quiet for a few seconds as we slipped out the front door and sat down on the front porch.

Eventually, Rocco spoke.

“I’ve never seen a grown man that upset before,” he murmured.

“We really fucked up, Rocco. Like, monumentally,” I sighed.

“I don’t like the sap, but I don’t want to hurt Dad,” Rocco mumbled.

“Me neither,” I replied.

More silence.

“What do we do?” Rocco asked after another short pause.

“We have to fix this. Dad will never forgive us if we’re the reason Scott leaves him,” I said firmly.

“But how do we fix it?” Rocco muttered.

“We’ll think of something. Come on, I know where the old couple across the road keep the keys for their Jaguar – we can drive into the city and think of something to make this right with,” I announced, getting to my feet.

“Driving without a license? Pretty ballsy of you,” Rocco mused, standing up too.

“Dad deserves to be happy and I won’t be the cause of him being upset,” I retorted.

Rocco grimaced slightly but nodded. Oh good. He agrees.

“Do you have a memory card in your cellphone?” I asked suddenly.

“Duh. Why?” Rocco asked, confused.

“I might have an idea. At least, one idea. Come on, we need to work fast,” I said firmly.

~

It was past midnight when Rocco and I snuck back into the house, carrying a bag each filled with our plans. I swallowed heavily when I saw that Dad’s car wasn’t in the driveway…but then I noticed there were still a light on in the house. Scott was still here, right?

“You cover downstairs, I’ll cover the stairs and upstairs,” I told Rocco.

“Got it,” Rocco nodded.

We worked quickly, getting everything sorted before we headed towards Dad and Scott’s bedroom. I pressed my finger to my lips, telling Rocco to be silent, before opening the door. In the bed…was Scott. Sure, he was alone, but the fact he was still here was a good thing, right? I shut the door just as quietly before turning to Rocco.

“I really hope this works,” I murmured.

“Me too,” Rocco said wistfully.

I smiled weakly and put the last package down opposite the bedroom door, leaning it against the wall so Scott would see it when he woke up.

*

7am. The time that Scott wakes up, regardless of whether he’s working or not. Seeing as it’s a Sunday, he’s not working. Rocco and I have been up for half an hour, making sure everything was prepared before we made breakfast, Rocco in charge of waffles and coffee, while I fry up sausages, bacon and eggs.

Fuck, I hope this works.

Rocco and I sat in silence, straining to listen for Scott’s reaction. I chewed my bottom lip as I heard a what the fuck, followed by the tearing of paper and a gasp. I chanced a glance at Rocco, but he was concentrating just as hard as I was. I heard Scott slowly walking down the stairs, stopping every now and again, and then a hitch of breath when he reached the living room.

Eventually, Scott entered the kitchen, clutching what was in the package outside his bedroom to his chest, tears falling down his cheeks again.

“You heard me last night, didn’t you?” Scott whimpered.

“Yeah, we did,” Rocco nodded.

“We don’t hate you, Scott. Honestly, we don’t,” I said softly.

“Like Dad said, we’re still getting used to the idea of him being with someone other than Mom,” Rocco said.

“We know Dad loves you and we don’t want to ruin that. You make him happy, and that’s important to us,” I added.

“You didn’t have to do all this though,” Scott whispered.

“We wanted to,” Rocco shrugged.

Finally, Scott put down what he was carrying – a photo frame filled with a photoshopped picture of me, Rocco, Dad and Scott, two photos merged seamlessly together of the only two times that Dad has ever worn the same suit.

“Maybe we can make this a real photo one day,” I said with a small smile.

“But for now, that one can go up on the mantel place, with the others,” Rocco finished.

This was what Rocco and I had been doing last night. The brother of the guy whose party I was meant to be going to owns a photography studio, and agreed to help us in return for us handing out a bunch of flyers for his studio at school. Fair deal. We only photoshopped this photo together, but we did download other photos of Dad and Scott onto Rocco phone, then able to enlarge them and frame them all over the house. There are about 20 in total, on walls, on window ledges and on the mantel piece.

“You don’t know how much this means to me,” Scott spluttered.

“Just tell Dad that you love him too and that you’re not leaving him. That’s all we want,” I smiled.

Scott turned to leave but Rocco shot his arm out to stop him.

“Dude, after breakfast – all this food will go cold otherwise,” Rocco chuckled.

Scott laughed weakly and wiped his cheeks dry, taking a seat at the table. As he piled up his plate with the food we’d made, Rocco and I shared a glance, both of us smiling. Yeah, this was worth it. We’d done the right thing here. Definitely.