Commitment Collection 2- Ignition; Turbo Charged; Pole Position, page 25
part #4 of Commitment Series
“It would be my pleasure.”
Elliott
The bar in the town is already busy when we arrive, so we’re able to keep our heads down and locate a booth with only two interruptions for selfies. For a Thursday night, the place has a great vibe.
“They say Thursdays are the new Fridays, don’t they?” Kyle screams at the top of his lungs to be heard above the grinding beat.
My head is banging from the built-up tensions, but the loud music doesn’t exacerbate it. Instead, the rhythm works out the stresses, easing one after another out into the atmosphere that vibrates around us. Before long, we’re five cocktails down and feeling like we own the world.
“This is what we needed,” Kyle shouts at me, his smile so broad that it splits his face right across the middle.
My head bobs in time to the music. “It’s been a crazy few weeks. I will never invest all my money at once again. I will always keep a safety net. I assumed that investing in three separate projects split my risk.”
“Well, in theory it does. But I guess the name of the game is never leave yourself open to threat. We invested so heavily because we didn’t want shareholders to be able to tell us how to run our business, but then we ended up almost losing that business because people we didn’t even respect had a say.”
“Shot?” I ask.
“Do it.”
Elliott attracts the attention of a server and the next thing we know we’re obliterating our woes down the rear end of a vodka bottle.
“I don’t even really like vodka.” Kyle wipes the back of his hand against his mouth.
“Me neither. It should really be drunk with a mixer.” The room spins. I’m not going to pass out, but the lights are starting to fade into each other, one orange orb floating into the next.
“Would you like to dance?”
I do hear him speak, but I can’t make out his words.
“Elliott?”
“Huh?”
“Shall we dance?”
“Let’s.” I wobble as I stand, but I think I pull it off. Kyle doesn’t notice. He’s probably too busy trying to balance himself. We make our way through a throng of happy faces, each baked in a layer of sweat. They move in front of me with no warning, and although they’re bobbing to the music, their next direction confuses me. As does mine. My feet and my brain do not coordinate tonight and even in my intoxicated state, I’m aware that my dance moves have been better. I stagger, but I’m certain I pull it off as a vulgar dance move, laughing as Kyle reaches to grab me. I settle in his arms and all the confusion melts away. I nestle into his chest and that’s where I stay, swaying as one to the beat of the music, enjoying the intimacy with Kyle more than the place we’re in.
“Shall we get out of here?” He asks directly into my ear. His breath is hot, even hotter than the room itself.
I nod against the finely tuned muscles of his chest.
“Come on then. Let’s get out of here.”
We stand outside, arms wrapped around each other, waiting for a taxi, and it’s cold. I can tell that, but it’s a nice cold. It dries the tacky layer of heat from our skins and sends it off into the ether, like a cleansing lotion.
“What are you going to do about Axel?” Kyle asks softly.
I drop my head to study my shoes, run my spare hand through my hair, tugging at the roots. The sharp pain grounds me within this hazy reality. We’ve temporarily escaped this evening, but nothing is ever permanent.
“I don’t know.” I shake my head and then struggle to form my words. My mouth is numb. “We can’t get rid of him. Everything he has told us is true.” I'm still shaking my head, struggling to work out what’s coming next. “And we took him on knowing that he had problems.”
“I agree. Legally, I expect there will be some questions to be answered if we kick him out because we found out that he does indeed have the issues that we were trying to help him escape by employing him.”
How can Kyle speak so eloquently? He’s had the same amount to drink as me. I curse his natural size. “But I don’t trust him, Kyle. I’ll tell you that much.”
“Let’s sit with him and have this out. Tell him that we know who he is, and that it doesn’t make any difference to us that we still want to give him a chance. See if we can’t win him over.”
“That’s a good idea. You are full of them.” And he is. My man. Looking after me in every way I could ask.
“I know. But, we still keep an eye on him, and his shadowing Jessie every step of the way has to stop.”
And that’s it. In our inebriated, vodka-fueled world, it all seems so simple.
Kyle
Elliott doesn’t remember our conversation about Axel by the next morning. He’s nursing his hangover and isn’t doing too great a job of it.
“Why did you let me drink so much?” he moans as he hovers over the toilet, unsure whether he’s going to throw up.
“You needed it. And don’t moan. You enjoyed it. It did you good.”
“But this morning, I feel like crap.”
I chuckle. “That’s the price you pay.”
“Not fair. You’re OK.”
“I’m double the size of you.”
And, so I don’t undo my hard work, I leave him to feel relaxed for just a little longer.
Our house is kicking off again already, so with one eye firmly fixed on Axel, we leave him in place, without letting on that we know what he’s been up to. Instead, we limit his exposure to anything sensitive and when we have the headspace to deal with the little shit, we’ll speak with him then.
For now, all we want to do is focus on something good and positive for a change. We indulge in the happier things in our life and for the next few weeks I ruminate over the final decorating decisions.
“White” is Elliott’s non-negotiable take on interior design.
I tried to argue my case, for a feature wall here and there, but nope. It’s not happening. “I’m not spending the money, nor the effort, until we know exactly how the place feels when we live in it. There’s no rush, Kyle. This is our forever home.”
‘Thank goodness,’ I think. The last thing I want is to go through this moving trauma again. And so I let him have his way with minimal resistance.
It comes to a point though where we can’t ignore the subject that neither of us wish to discuss. That time arrives when Idris puts a call into me, which I answer without thinking.
“Kyle, how are you?” Something in his tone gives me the distinct impression that I’m better now than I will be when we hang up.
“I’m good, thanks. And you?” My heart is starting to do that little jiggly thing that I’ve gotten used to not feeling. I don’t listen to his response, waiting for his punch line and why he’s called.
“I’ve done some more digging on your friend. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come back to you. Some of this stuff was well buried. It doesn’t help with his home situation.”
“No, I don’t expect it does.” And?
“Well. It’s not easy for me to say this, as obviously until Elliott-”
“Say what, Idris? What are you saying?”
“Well, it’s looking distinctly like Elliott has a son.”
Kyle
“Elliott, I can see it now that I know. I thought there was something I couldn’t put my finger on about that kid. He looks like you. Look at his eyes.”
“What about his eyes?”
“Oh, come on. Don’t say you can’t see it. His are the same piercing blue, other than his are angry and yours are, well, adorable.”
I pause, allowing Elliott to digest the possibility that Idris’ intelligence is correct. Not only is Axel a dead ringer for Elliott, except for the curls; it would appear that Elliott had have a one night stand back in the early days with his mother.
“How do you recall her?” I ask.
“I was only a kid at that time and I was just starting out. It was when Noah and I were kind of, well, you know, deciding what we were to each other. And I remember her name because I made the conscious decision to go with her. I needed to know how I felt about being with someone else. But, that doesn’t mean this kid is mine.”
“No, but it does mean that he has a reason not to like you if he thought you abandoned him. And let’s face it; he has been following you around, unbeknown to us, for years now. It does explain a few things that haven’t added up.”
His pale features flush, and I wrap my arm over his shoulder, pulling him close as his cheeks color to a crimson realization.
“Shit, Kyle. I’ve had a kid all along, and I didn’t know about him. You can kinda see why he’d be pissed at me.”
“You need to speak with him, see what he has to say for himself.”
“I can’t. Not yet. I don’t understand how I feel.”
I’d been afraid of this. My glorious, sensual, fragile man, now faced with the truth, also now faces his biggest fear. He and this kid are so similar, it’s scary. Except that where Axel has come out fighting, Elliott retreats into his cave until he wraps his head around his associated emotions.
We sit in my office, unable to move forward with anything until Elliott has processed this new piece of information. That requires me to be quiet, and just sit with him.
“Do you want some tea?” I stand, gently supporting him as I leave his side.
He nods. “Sure that would be nice.” He’s speaking, but his words are process driven, his thoughts lost elsewhere. He probably won’t even drink the tea, unconcerned that it will be cooling on the low table in front of him. I for one could do with something stronger, but tea is what we have.
As I head out to the kitchenette, unaware of the usual joking going on in the team as they work, I take a time out to think about the repercussions associated with Elliott having a son. I quite liked the distant idea that one day we may have a kid of our own, but it wasn’t something that we ever moved forward with. It wasn’t the right time, and it may never be.
But now we have a ready-made package. And Axel is a big screw up. Whatever his mother did to him, she wasn’t mom of the year for him to be out on the streets at the same age that Elliott fathered him. Even if this goes the best possible way that young man will take investing hard work.
Sure, we’re up for it, but it didn’t figure in our life plan. Just when we were about to enjoy that level playing field again, BAM, life surprises us one more time.
I’m exhausted, so I don’t know how Elliott must feel.
I make the tea without noticing the details, and carry both handles of the mugs in one of my giant hands so I can open the door to my office without sloshing some on the floor. Elliott remains in the same position.
“Here you go.” I place his cup on the table.
He looks at it, hard, like it’s an intruder in the mechanics of his brain. “Thanks.” His voice is soft, the power of it lost somewhere, off with his mental reasoning that’s working overtime on a different plane.
Elliott
I'm unsure how long we’ve been there, but when I’ve at least half-processed my thoughts, I turn to Kyle. “I can’t mention anything to Axel yet, Kyle. I need to understand how I feel before I move anything forward between us. We can only imagine the fallout that will happen once he opens up. I don’t know how to confront all that yet.”
“But, the kid must want to be near you, otherwise he wouldn’t be here. Sure, he’s bitter, and he wants to screw up your life, but that could just be to get your attention.”
“He’s gone the wrong way about doing that.”
“Sure he has, but do you remember being his age? He doesn’t know what his thoughts mean yet. He’s struggling with the false assumption that you don’t give a crap.”
“How can I if I don’t know about him?” I ask.
“Sure, I know that, and so do you. But Axel. Well, I expect he thinks you ran off at the first mention of him and didn’t want to know jack.”
Kyle is right. I got that loud and clear, but putting our misunderstanding right, when, quite frankly, I can’t make sense of my feelings towards him, isn’t going to be easy. Sure, I’m floored because all of a sudden I’m a father. But, that’s all mixed in with a frustration and hurt that he’s been trying to wreck everything for Kyle and me for years now. And that he almost succeeded. I’ve been on my knees, as has our business and the livelihood of all our employees, all because of his bitterness.
I don’t know much about his mother, but that side of him comes from her. Sure, I have my moments of wanting to get back at Chase for the way he treated Kyle and me in the past, but I’m not about to start anything devious against him. My whole thing is that I will gain my revenge through fair and honest means. I will be better than him. Axel, I don’t understand. And that lack of understanding is what makes this more difficult.
“You OK?” Kyle places his hand on my knee and squeezes. It’s hot from the mug of tea he’s been cradling.
I nod.
“These circumstances won’t improve by brooding over what might happen. The only way to deal with such confusion is by attacking this head on and figuring out how to work through whatever is thrown at us, together. You’re not alone, El.”
I want to scream at him that I can’t process all these thoughts at once. Too much is billowing around my mind in the storm that’s raging in there. I have no control over anything, unable to catch more than a wisp of one thought before it’s snatched from my reasoning and replaced with another half-formed idea.
But, I don’t. Because I know Kyle is right. I know that I have to face Axel being my flesh and blood in order to work out what we’re dealing with.
But, just not yet.
Kyle
We don’t exactly forget about Axel. That would be a minor miracle, but we put him and all his potential issues on the back burner. He’s like one of those problems that you can’t deal with, so you don’t talk about it, as though ignoring it will make it disappear.
In the interim, we move into our house. It’s an absolute dream compared the RV, which has certainly lost a lot of its charm in the last few months. The space allows our heads as well as our physical beings to breathe. And even though it’s totally white, without a single feature wall to its name, I’m in love with it.
“Was it worth all the hard work?” Elliott asks me over a civilized glass of wine as we eat dinner around a full-sized dining table one night.
“Oh yes. I wouldn’t build our own home again in a hurry, but I’m pleased we have this project finished.”
Eating a meal around the dining table is not something we ever did before. We’d often spend hours sitting and chatting around the kitchen table in our old house, but the dining room was separate, so it was only on a rare occasion that we made the effort to sit in there. Now, with an open concept, we’re free to use the space practically around our lifestyles.
While that doesn’t always include a formal seated dinner, tonight it does. The novelty is well deserved and we’re making the most of it.
With everything put in its boxes, including Axel and his access to sensitive data, it would be easy to just float along, ignoring the fact that there is still a huge issue that we must address.
“So, have you thought any more about Axel?” I ask before popping a piece of chicken in my mouth. As I wait for Elliott’s answer, it dries out more with every bite. I end up rolling it around, unable to swallow the morsel, which is growing as a snowball would down an Alaskan mountainside. I decide to quit the pretense of nonchalance and place my hand over Elliott’s, which is fine except now we both have to stop eating and there is no escaping my question.
“I have, and I haven’t.”
Not helpful. “So, what are your options?”
“I don’t have any. I have to speak to him. It’s just a matter of when and how. I can’t decide whether you should be there. This affects both of our lives, but I sense that he would interpret that as weak.”
“Well, this is between you and him as well. I’m happy to be there, but I think he would initially prefer to spend some time with you. If I interfere he’ll either resent me for interfering, or you for having someone else put the words you want to speak into your mouth.”
“Hmm... I did think the same thing.”
“So, would you like to invite him over here, or meet him at the office?”
“It would be easier in the office, because then he won’t smell a rat by me inviting him to our house. But then, I don’t want this going horribly wrong and there being some huge public scene.”
“OK, so up here it is. Get Jessie to ask him to come up and see you during working hours, to pick something up, and then you can introduce it over a cup of tea, perhaps?”
I watch as a range of emotions passes over his delicate features, the features that I now recognize as being Axel’s as well. And I want nothing more than what is impossible. To take away his pain.
Elliott
I’ve put this off for too long now, so today is the day that Axel will visit our house on the pretense of collecting some file or other. And this is when I will offer him a cup of tea, but no file. Axel will sit at our new breakfast bar and we will discuss the issue of me being his father.
Beyond that I have no clue what will happen. I don’t know what I will say and I have even less idea of how he will respond.
I have dressed three times, changing from too casual, to too smart, to what now I think is the ideal outfit for an estranged father who wants to be taken seriously, and who takes the role seriously, albeit a little late.
I’ve brewed some fresh coffee on the off chance he prefers that, and the smell, like that of baked bread, is homely. I then panic. Shit, I don’t even know where he’s living. I don’t want to rub everything I have in his face while he’s been roughing it on the streets. It’s too late though; the smell has already permeated the entire downstairs.
