Oliver Thorton

Benjamin doesn't know what to do with himself. It would seem that Charlotte had a bit of a talk with Benjamin’s parents about how he does not have enough of a social life. They gave him the day off.

There are four other chefs at the restaurant – usually his sous chefs – who would be taking over. He had three days to relax on his own. He was not sure how to go about doing this.

The last time that he had this many days to himself, he was in a relationship and would often spend hours inside of the bedroom. This was different. He was alone. Well, he had Marvin, of course, but what could a cat do in lonesome situations such as these? Benjamin had half of a thought to go back into the restaurant anyways and beg his father to spend the day there. Not to work but to supervise. He immediately put a stop to those thoughts when he realized how pathetic he really was. Charlotte was right…he needed a social life. Badly.

Benjamin made the six minute drive to the large family home in his town of Tiverton to visit his younger siblings whom he had not seen in a while. His mother would be home, yes, and he was certain that Charlotte too would have the day off, but he was not sure. He just needed something to do! 
The home was too large, but it did house four other children, two adults, three dogs, two cats and a variety of lizards and hamsters. His mother’s vehicle was in the drive. She would be pleased to have her son finally visiting.

“Benjamin!” She was pleased. “It has been too long since you visited. I barely see you outside of the restaurant and your siblings surely don’t see you ever! Other than Charlotte, of course; you two were always the best of friends growing up. I couldn't tear you away from each other long enough to give you baths!”

Benjamin loved his mother. She was warm and short and just a bit plump, but beautiful all the same. She always smelled of honey and rosemary – from her days in the kitchen – and gave the best hugs.
Benjamin wanted to marry a woman with his mother’s personality. She immediately led him further into the home; not that he needed leading. He had grown up in that house.

It was a Saturday…all of the children were home. Charlotte was yammering loudly on the phone, giggling to whomever was on the other end; Theodora, who was sixteen, was running about with a Gecko in hand and paint smeared all over her face; fourteen year old Shauna was typing quickly on her fancy phone – Benjamin had not quite mastered the art of technology yet – and laughing to herself; and then there was Jacobson – or Jacob for short – he was only four years old and runner up for Benjamin’s favorite sibling – after Charlotte…of course.

Jacob quickly ran into Benjamin’s arms, screaming his name and giggling like mad. He was small for his age, but he was born premature with a respiratory defect that left him with breaths between each word and an inhaler permanently glued to his pocket. But he was smart and loved his big brother more than the world itself. The sun rose in the morning simply because Benjamin told it to and that would never change in Jacob’s eyes.

The other siblings barely acknowledged his presence, all too busy with their lives to see the brother they had not heard from in nearly two weeks. But they were too used to him.

Carrying a squealing Jacob on his back, Benjamin made his way into the kitchen where his mother was busying herself with lunch for the family. Benjamin offered to help; she immediately scolded him and ordered him to enjoy his day off.

“Have you heard from Arnold recently?” The plump woman asked, licking pasta sauce off of the spoon in her hands. Benjamin shook his head. He was never close to his older brother. “Ever since he married that awful Taylor woman, he has had absolutely no time for his own family. The shame.”

Arnold was the child that everyone wanted. Most parents said so. He was smart, handsome and a complete gentleman. But he was never much for family. He ran off to a college campus as soon as he could and then moved out immediately after, barely staying in touch with the rest of the world.

Benjamin resented him. Without his family, Benjamin knew that he would be nowhere. Why could Arnold not see that?

His new wife Taylor was surely no help. She had claimed him from his ex, Amanda – “who was always such a sweetheart”, their mother would say – and married him before anyone could get a word in edgewise. Benjamin barely knew the girl, so he did not care, but Helena sure cared.

Charlotte took that moment to skip into the kitchen with her brightly coloured jeans and her shirt that cut above her naval – Helena was scandalized. She took Jacob from Benjamin’s arms and swung him. When she put him down, he ran away screaming, chasing after James Bond, the elderly Saint Bernard.

“How are you enjoying your off day, brother?” Charlotte trilled. She dyed her hair purple again. She does this for no apparent reason other than her newfound love for the color. “Going to go meet someone? Have a hot date? Hiring a prostitute for the night?” Straight face.

Jacob padded into the room, a quizzical look on his face. Both older siblings saw where this was going and could not stop the laughter that was bubbling from their throats.

“What’s a tostute, mommy?”

Helena’s yells were drowned by the laughter of Benjamin and Charlotte as they ran through the home and up the stairs to their bedrooms.

Benjamin missed being home.



Oliver was furious and yet over the moon! He had spent another horrid day at work, but his boss had proudly given him the news that he had received the managerial position. Upon arriving at the flat, he made to tell James the good news and was not happy to see that his room had not only been painted, – light green had been chosen – but there was a brand new, sleek chocolate crib next to his bed. It was then that he had also noticed the antique-esque rocking chair in the living space next to the ratty couch.

Furious was not enough to explain the anger coursing through Oliver’s veins. His body felt white hot as his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

How dare he? How dare James spend money on him? Not on him, but on his baby! Oliver would say that he simply did not want his friend wasting his cash on someone as unimportant as him… but that was not it at all. Oliver was jealous! And that made him furious! 
James had the means to spend money on Oliver’s child and he couldn't even do that himself! It was his child! It was his job to be spending money on him…or her! James had no right! He would not buy Oliver’s child’s affection! Oliver would not have it!

James was with another woman. She at least had the decency to cover herself when Oliver stormed into the bedroom; the others would have simply continued. 
James sat straight on the bed. Anxiety and fear crossed his eyes. Oliver was pleased.

“How dare you?” He seethed, his voice barely above a whisper. “First I tell you specifically not to paint the bedroom and you go ahead and do it anyway and now I see those…those things in my bedroom? What are you thinking? What gives you the right to go behind my back and disobey what I want for my child?”

James sighed, running his hands over his face.

“Look, I’m really sorry Oliver, b-but…just think of this as your early baby shower gift. I promise that I will not be spending another dime on you or the baby…until he or she is born, of course.”

Oliver took deep breaths through his nose. He knew it would not do any good to murder James in front of a witness. He had a baby on the way; he would not be able to take care of it from behind bars. Although James was a nuisance and a horrible listener; he would let him off this once. He needed those items and goodness knows how long it would have taken him to purchase them himself.

“Fine, I will forgive you just this once. But if you spend another dime when I tell you not to, I will murder you and use your money to hire someone to care for my child for me while I am rotting away in prison. Understood this time?”

James gave a frightened nod. Oliver slammed the door. Simply for the satisfaction of being able to do so. It would do no good having high blood pressure before his child was even born. He would have to learn to control himself. And who better to help him than…

Oliver shook the thoughts out of his head. He did not need someone else looking down on him for the decisions that he made in his life. Especially when said person was well off on his own. But it had been a while since they had spoken.

Oliver hated himself when he got on the phone. But Thomas surely would not do this himself. He answered on the third ring. This was usual for him. Always on the third. It was some sort of OCD thing.

Oliver had not spoken to his twin brother in ages. It was partly because of jealousy and partly…because of jealousy. Thomas had his life planned out perfectly. Oliver was nothing but a nuisance.

“Oliver?” He sounded cheerful. Oliver wondered how. Was he not learning the most boring profession on the face of the earth? “It’s been so long, baby brother. You know you can pick up the phone sooner, eh?”

“It is not simply one sided, Thomas.” Oliver mumbled. Thomas always wanted to make him feel insignificant the most that he could. Not true.
Three minutes of silence before one spoke up.

“Surely you didn’t just call to hear me breathing through the phone. What is it that you need, Oliver?”

They used to be the best of friends. Oliver and Thomas. Thomas and Oliver. One was rarely seen without the other. Yet…Thomas saw realities…Oliver had dreams that never saw the light of day.

“I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to be a father soon. My uh…girlfriend just found out that she’s pregnant. I wanted to tell you before mum and dad.”

He lied. Of course he lied. Did he want Thomas to look down on him for having nothing more than a one night stand? Of course not. So of course he lied. He didn't know what he would say if Thomas ever said that he would like to visit and meet this ‘girlfriend’, though. 
It was quiet on the other line.

Oliver wondered if Thomas was breathing. Perhaps he wasn't. He wanted to know what his twin brother was thinking.

“P-pregnant? You got someone pregnant and you haven’t told mum and dad yet?” Thomas rubbed his face from the other line. Oliver had always said that he did not want a family. He disliked children growing up and yet… “I think you should tell mum and dad, but…congratulations. I know that you’ll make a great father.” Oliver wondered if he said this to make him feel better about the situation that he got himself into.

Another three minutes of silence.

“I have holiday coming up soon. Would you mind if I visited? It has been too long since we’ve seen each other and this…this is big.”

Oliver could have groaned. He wanted to visit? Surely he was kidding. What would Thomas say when he saw the state of the home that Oliver lived in?

His dormitory would be better than the broken down flat with the peeling paint and the heat that doesn't work. And the neighbours who do not believe in silence and the elevator that had stopped working long before Oliver moved in with James.

And James. He would share a single bedroom with his baby while having a roommate in the other. Oliver did not like being dependent. He did not like being looked down upon. And he would be both if Thomas ever decided to visit. What would he do? What could he do?

“I’m going to call mum and dad. It was nice speaking to you again, Thomas. Goodbye.”
Oliver pressed ‘End Call’ before Thomas could answer. Oliver lied. He would not call his mother and father and tell them this news. They would not be ecstatic. They did not think much of Oliver, not much at all. Surely not as much as they thought of Thomas; the good child, the heavenly child. His mother would cry and wonder where she went wrong while his father would be gruff and say nothing. But Oliver would know what goes through that man's mind. Oliver would see that his father was disappointed. Oliver just knew. And Oliver hated that he just knew.



Managerial position was not what Oliver had hoped it would be. There was a lot of paperwork. Angry customers would have to speak to him. He would no longer be able to cause their anger and then send them to speak to the managers. He was the manager. He disliked it more and more every day. And then he received his first pay check. It was a beautiful sight. Oliver could have gone and bought cigarettes, but he bought Johanna a necklace instead. A small, gold baby boot dangling inside of a heart. He was grateful for all that she had done for him. And he would quit smoking. If not for himself, then he would quit for the baby.

James, of course, was helping as much as he could. He had decided to no longer smoke in the presence of Oliver; meaning no more in the house. He wanted to make it easier and for that, Oliver was grateful. That did not make quitting any easier of course.

Oliver had also taken many more hours at work. He would sometimes spend sixteen hours straight at the shop, aiding where he could. He wholeheartedly believed that he was not meant for manager, but the money was good. He would not complain.

Johanna was at the house more than three times per week. Oliver had tried to force her to quit her job – even though she is barely one month pregnant – but she had refused and simply spent her days off at the flat. The men had taken quite the liking to her. She was an excellent cook. They could stop with the take-away.

As days went on, Oliver began to accept that he would be having a child. He had not called his parents to tell them, nor had they called him. He did not feel as if he needed the help of his family. But he promised his unborn child, every day, that he would be the father that he never had. He would love the child and protect him or her and provide. He wanted so badly to be able to provide. He did not care if he would have to take on three more jobs in order to keep the child happy.

This made Johanna happy. She had not known Oliver for long. But she began to see the changes in the boy. He was growing up and she was feeling more comfortable with her decision to let him raise her child…their child.

But she was filled with so much sadness. She would never be in this child’s life. Not if she had any say in it. Her adoptive parents had raised her to be better than she was. They had been against her drug use and her alcohol abuse. They sought help…she refused and moved away. Johanna wished that she had never met Shauna, who had begun all of this. She would have been a better person. She would have gone to post-secondary – which she planned on doing once she returned home to Glasgow – and she would have met a nice man. They would have raised their children together in a family home with a small dog and a white picket fence. But here she was, giving up a part of her because she didn’t know when to say no to peer pressure.
 She wanted her family to be proud of her; a child would surely not help. She would not be able to care for it and she could see that Oliver would kill himself to give it a good life. She trusted him. Well, what choice did she have really? It would kill her to take it away from him, especially when he was working so hard.

It was Johanna’s first doctor’s appointment. Oliver had called into work because there was no way he was missing this event. Strangely enough, James had come as well. Okay, not strange. James was just as excited for the arrival of the baby as much as Oliver was. He brought his camera. It must have looked strange. Johanna sitting in the waiting room with two fidgeting men by her side. Each had a protective hand on her still flat stomach.

“Would you two please sit still? It’s only an appointment.”

Before either answered, Johanna was called. The nurse did not bother asking which of the men would be coming with her. She must have been used to this. 
James had found the questions quite boring. Oliver was scribbling everything down on a notepad, getting every vowel from the nurse's and technician's mouths.

Johanna cried at the ultrasound. James did not understand how the gray fuzz on the screen could possibly resemble a human being – he took photos anyway. Oliver was in shock. Although he too did not see where the technician could see a baby, he was just glad that there was something there. He was really having a baby.

“When can we find out a sex?” He had managed to croak out. “And hear a heartbeat?”
Johanna grasped tightly onto his hand as the technician wiped the goo from her stomach. She could hear his voice tremble. But he was a man…men don’t cry. She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“The sex is not usually until 18 weeks into the pregnancy, so about four and a half months in. And the heartbeat really depends on the baby’s positioning and the thickness of the mother’s fat layer, liquid content and thickness of the membrane. Roughly around 17 weeks I would say, but if the doctor is not concerned about not hearing a heartbeat then you should not be either.’ She smiled up at Oliver. “And you are around 5 weeks along girly. Only eight more months to go.”

Oliver could not wait.