Relative Design

Anabel spluttered, choked on the water, and brushed Beckett’s hands away when he patted her back. “What?”

Eric smiled, the motion so fake Anabel had to try to keep from cringing at his bitterness. “Don’t worry, he didn’t tell me either.”

“Then how…?”

“I meant he didn’t tell me at first. I only found out a few years ago.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Okay. You’re… his real son?”

“Yes.”

“My nephew.”

“Yes.”

“Wow. Okay,” she said again, then winced.

“You didn’t know? Like you didn’t even have an idea? Eliza suspected so—”

“Let’s not involve the third sibling and confuse matters more.” She paused. “Eliza suspected? No, wait.” She shook her head, tried to think clearly. “You have our eyes.”

“I know.”

Her heart melted as she stared into the eyes that, around the pupil, were the exact shade of hers. “I never saw it before.”

Those same eyes narrowed in confusion. “Really?”

“I—I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that I completely believe Beckett when he tells me something, or maybe it’s just that I didn’t want to see it, but I never saw it before. I got a shock when I came back and saw you looking so like Beckett…” She hesitated. “Did you know?”

He shrugged. “I knew my eyes were the color of his, and Eliza’s. I knew they were like yours in the middle.”

“Oh.”

He watched her stare at him, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I know you liked being youngest,” he blurted. “I know I keep taking that away from you—”

“Eric, you honestly can’t think that matters to me.”

“Well, maybe not. But I’m sure you’re upset we didn’t tell you—”

“I’m sure I’ll get to being angry with Beckett soon enough.”

“Beckett? Not me?”

“Oh, honey.” She stood and went to him, touched his hair, his shoulder, needing that contact. “No, not you. You, however,” she said, going back to Beckett and drilling a finger in his shoulder. “You better start talking. You, I am angry with. You—”

“Okay, stop,” he said, lightly taking her wrist as he grimaced. “Sit down and we’ll—”

“I knew something was up with you. I knew it. When you came back, you were so… I knew it, dammit. I just thought you were getting used to stuff again, settling in. You lied to me.”

“I didn’t. I didn’t know if… I didn’t know yet.”

“Well, you tell us when you think something like that,” Eric snapped, crossing his arms, elbows on the table.

“And what if it turned out you weren’t?” Beckett retorted just as heatedly. “What if it just happened that I’d been wrong? That you weren’t my son? You’d have resented me anyway.”

“Because I don’t resent you now, right?”

The fight left Beckett and he slumped in his seat, saying nothing.

“Eric, that’s harsh.”

“It’s the truth, Anabel. The truth is usually harsh.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Eric. You talk like that, I’ll get mad at you too. Why do you resent—”

“He brought me here, to his family, as a pity case, and all the while I was his damn son. How could you not tell me? Worse, how could you abandon me like that with her?”

“I just couldn’t, Eric.”

“Why not, Beckett? Obviously he needs answers. We all do.”

Beckett sighed. “She never told me.”

“What?” Anabel asked, sitting back down.

He glanced at her and then turned back to Eric. “Your mom never told me about you.”

“You’re lying.”

“I didn’t want to tell you, afraid you’d start resenting her—”

“My childhood sucked. She’s entirely to blame for that. I already resent her. The least I deserved was not to have animosity towards you too.” He kept his voice even though his eyes burned with anger.

“All right, I did the best I could, okay?” Beckett asked, exasperated. God, what did they think? It was easy taking on the responsibility of a ten year old kid? “The circumstances—”

“Don’t give me shit about the circumstances. How am I supposed to believe you didn’t know when you—”

“I didn’t, dammit.” He pushed away from the table, paced. “She got pregnant just before I left and she never—she didn’t tell me. Or my family. And I—”

When he didn’t continue, Eric leaned towards him. “Tell me.”

“Eric—”

“Tell me.”

“I found her when I came back. In Boston, with you. I don’t know what I’d expected, but she… she was different. Then you came in the room and… you had my eyes. She wouldn’t confirm or deny anything.”

“You guys made me leave,” Eric remembered. “I thought you were her newest boyfriend or something. Her newest guy to help her get rich quick.”

“No, I wasn’t. We used to be close, your mother and I. That was the only reason I went to see her.”

“I couldn’t see someone like you associating themselves with someone like her. You confused me.” He took a deep breath. “What happened? When you saw her?”

“I found out she’d gotten cut off, and that’s why she… you two lived where you did.” It had been a dump, he recalled, and it hadn’t been any place to raise a child.

“What did you talk about after you sent me inside?”

“I did the approximate math, factored everything. Asked if you were mine.”

“What did she say?”

“Eric—”

“You owe me this. What did she say?”

“She brushed you off. Said you were just some mistake that cost her.”

Anabel, heart aching for the boy and the man, wrung her fingers together but said nothing. She knew it wasn’t her place.

“Should have known.”

“Eric, she was a bitter woman. She didn’t deserve to have you.”

“So you took me.”

“I took you because you were my son. That meant something to me. It’s meant something since the day I found out.” He shook his head. “That’s not right. Since the day I suspected.”

“You didn’t know what to do with me. I may have been ten, but I wasn’t an idiot.” He looked at his aunt, technically, though she’d always be a sister in his heart, the only place it counted. “You loved me. Before he did, you loved me.”

Had it been so obvious, she wondered. Had it been so obvious to everyone but her? “Yes, I did.”

“And you didn’t even know—suspect I was his son. You loved me anyway.”

“I was a sucker for your charm, undeveloped as it was. Mostly you were just a potty mouth.”

He laughed, rubbed his face. “What grown adult says that? Who isn’t a kindergarten teacher?”

“It’s true. You were.”

He reached across the table to take her hand before looking back at Beckett. “I thought you knew and came back when it was convenient for you. I thought that’s why you hadn’t told me.”

“No, I would’ve never—if I’d known you…”

“Then you would’ve resented me. Guess this whole thing worked out for the best.”

“Maybe. But I wouldn’t have resented you. I would’ve spared you the early years of your childhood, but…”

“I’m sorry, Beckett.” The words stuck in his throat, but he forced them out anyway.

“You still call him Beckett?” Anabel asked curiously.

“Habit, I guess.”

“And I prefer it,” Beckett admitted. “It’d be too weird to have him start calling me dad now.”

Eric nodded in quiet agreement.

“Right.” She released the breath she held. “This is a lot to take in.”

Eric tilted his head just slightly and Beckett took the hint, getting to his feet.

“Excuse me for a second.”

Eric watched him go, patiently waiting for the sound of the door shutting. “Ana?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

Everything inside her melted. “Yeah, honey, I’m okay. Are you?”

“I’ve had a lot of time to come to terms with it.”

“Yet you didn’t, until just now.”

“Because he wouldn’t talk to me about it.”

“Did you ask Eliza to mediate?”

“Anabel,” he shot her an almost bland look. “He’s never listened to anyone the way he does you.”

“Glad to be of help.”

“Seriously though, Anabel. Are you… you know, okay with all this?”

“It’s never mattered to me, you know that. You’ve been ours since you walked through the door. Now it’s just… I don’t know, scientifically proven.”

“You’re handling this well.”

“Well, someone needs to keep their head about it.” She stood and went to him again.

“You always handled me entering this family well.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Why would you?” he shot back just as easily, frowning at her.

She sighed, ran her fingers through his hair, hoping to ease his unhappiness. “I could just repeat myself in response to that.”

“So could I.”

“Eric, I’m older than you. Therefore I get to tell you to shut up.”

He laughed, shaking his head as he stood. “Thank you.”

“You never have to thank me for any of this, ever. Okay?”

“That may just be the mushiest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“Good, because then I can follow it up with: go the hell to sleep. You have school tomorrow.”

“Oh, come on. Doesn’t all this warrant a day off—”

“You’re funny. Get going.”

“Fine. Can I crash here?”

“Your clothes?”

He only grinned. “We added an extra box when you were moving in, full of all of our clothes. It’s in the back corner of your closet.”

“You don’t hesitate to make yourselves at home, do you?”

“Never.”

She honestly wouldn’t have it any other way.

He led the way to her room, going straight in the closet and Beckett stood, lightly taking Anabel’s arm and leading her back outside, shutting the door behind them. “Hey, can we talk?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

He took her to the sofa, sat down beside her. “How angry are you?”

“I understand your reasons. I just wish… I guess I just wish you’d told us, or me at least. You just—you looked so upset all the time. I know Eliza and I didn’t help, with the whole picking on you because you’d been gone and stuff, but… I knew something was up, and I knew it didn’t have to do with us.”

“It didn’t. You two were fine, really.”

“Then you should have confided in us, Beck. We would’ve supported you.”

“I know. I know you would’ve. I think it was just something I needed to do, on my own, for him. I needed to do something to make it up to him.”

“Make what up to him?”

“His entire childhood. And I was so… I didn’t know what to do between you and him. I had to make stuff up to him and—”

“Beckett, you didn’t—”

“Yes, I did. I abandoned you and I was the reason everything fell apart.”

“Like what?”

“Your relationship with our parents, for one.”

“You didn’t have anything to do with that,” Anabel chastised. “That was me; I was the one who wrecked their car.”

He paused, gaped at her. “You were twelve.”

“I went through my rebellion phase early.” She shrugged.

“Their car?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? How?”

“They didn’t pay as much attention after you’d gone and Eliza moved out. They never… they heard me, but they never listened. So I made them. Accidentally, but still. It just backfired when they decided I needed to be sent away to learn a lesson.”

“So Eliza took you in,” he finished, making Anabel nod. “And none of that would’ve happened if I hadn’t left.”

“Stop making it about you,” she said airily, waving it away. “This is my one form of rebellion. Don’t take that from me.”

“Okay,” he said, laughing. “Deal. Either way, I still feel like I should’ve done things differently with you too.”

“Well, you didn’t, and it turns out you didn’t need to. We’re fine.” She watched the frown form on his face, heard him sigh quietly. “What?”

“Do you remember what you told me? When I came back?”

“I told you many things.”

“About how you’d wait for me?”

Everything inside her sank down to her toes. “Beckett—”

“Don’t say you didn’t mean it. I don’t hold that against you, Anabel, but do you see why I felt as though I owed you something?”

Her temper flashed, and she fought to keep it in check. “That isn’t how this family works, Beckett. There isn’t some bullshit checks and balances crap here. You don’t owe me anything. And if that’s what you think—”

“Don’t get your back up about it, Ana. I’m just saying—”

“No, you’re being insulting and you damn well know it. Now are we done with all this mushy, sentimental crap for the night so I can sleep?”

Well, he thought with a grin, guess she did take after Eliza as well. “We’re done.”

“Good. Sleep well.”

She was still bristling as she stepped into the room, but seeing Eric there, asleep, she relaxed with a sigh. Going to him, she covered him with the sheet she kept at the foot of the bed, ruffling his hair before stepping back out.

“Looks like you and I are on the sofas,” she said, spare pillows and sheets in hand. She dropped one of each on the larger sofa before taking the smaller one for herself.

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll go get Eric—”

“I’ll have an easier time on this sofa. I’m smaller than you both. Now shut up and go to sleep. I’m still annoyed with you.”

“Thank you for everything, Anabel,” he said simply in response, turning the light off. Though her heart softened, she only grunted and closed her eyes.

*

She was, understandably, grumpy the next day. She hated resorting to herself in terms of one of the seven dwarves, but grumpy was the only way to put it. Her sleep cycle had gotten messed up thanks to her brothers—her brother and her nephew—and she’d stubbed her toe on the corner of her dresser in the morning, trying to get ready stealthily enough so as not to wake anyone up.

Now, she was rushing to finish her damn proposal that, because of no other reason than to be a jackass—she was sure of it—Adam had said he wanted on his desk by noon.

Three minutes to, she saved the document, shot it to the printer and, ignoring the shoe bites her new heels were giving her, ran to get the papers before dashing towards Adam’s office. She made it in a minute and took a second to compose herself before knocking on his door.

His assistant opened the door for her, stepping out and shutting it as soon as Anabel was inside.

He barely glanced at her. “You have one minute. What?”

Slipping her shoes off by the door, she padded silently to his desk to set the paper on the edge of it. “The proposal you wanted.”

“Oh. Sure.” His hands scrubbed his face as he looked away from the file he’d been annotating, reaching for his much loved slinky before looking at Anabel. He didn’t care much for the way everything in him relaxed at the sound of her voice. “Proposal?”

“The Johnson client? You wanted it on your desk at noon.”

“Yeah, ’course. Okay. Thank you. Anything—why are your shoes by my door?”

“New. Ouch,” she said, hoping that would explain it all. “Can I go or…?”

He glanced at his watch. “Your minute isn’t over. Everything okay at home?”

“I’ll fill you in later.”

He appreciated her respect for the environment and nodded. “You seem tired. Long night?”

“You could say that.”

“Would you object to my picking you up from your place around eight tonight?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“I’ll see you then.”

She nodded and went back to put her shoes on again. “Sounds good.”

It was, by far, the oddest conversation they’d ever had, she decided as she went back to her office.