Page 29 of Snow Blind

"No," Helen said.

"He wants us to try it out over the weekend," Mustang said.

"Hmmp," she repeated and drifted off to sleep. Helen had nothing more to add to the conversation right now. Oscar was right. If he and Mustang were a good fit, the weekend would tell, and Jay would need to make the decision of whether he wanted to take on that task. She wouldn't say one way or another.

Whatever he decided, she'd support.

Chapter 9-Fluke

The uncomfortable bedprevented him from sleeping well. Childhood fears of monsters under the bed waiting to eat his toes hindered Mustang from getting a good night's rest with his feet hanging over the edge of the bed. The idea of a little Asian monster dressed like he was going to a sparkling fairy rodeo without horses haunted him. At daybreak, the sun pushing through the heavy curtains wasn't enough to stop the chill coming through the window, but the warmth of his woman at his side made it all feel...cozy.

He stared at the ceiling, going over the bits of information he’d gathered by simply watching. This weekend, he didn't know what he expected to learn, but being here wasn't a fluke. He was here to learn something, what, he wasn't sure. He sure as hell wasn't planning at the end of the trip to become some kid's daddy, but the boy had touched him and made him think.

"Hmm," was all he muttered as he peeled Helen off him and headed to the bathroom.

Having a bathroom in the room with them was a nice touch, and if he needed a few extra minutes to read on his phone, he could do so without a kid needing to brush his teeth or wash his face. The house in itself appeared to have good bones, and he could see that the man Ricky had put in the work.

"Apple and Ricky...," he mumbled, closing the bathroom door.

The smell of coffee cut his reading time short, and he washed his face and hands and brushed his teeth, and after slipping on a pair of loungers and an oversized tee, he headed for the kitchen. The large container, almost restaurant style, of a coffeemaker sat on the counter. He also smelled biscuits and bacon, and there was a container of eggs sitting at the edge of the countertop.

"Oh, good morning. Coffee?" Stephen asked.

"Yes, please," Mustang replied.

The first thing he noticed was the young man wore a pair of chinos with a button-down shirt and no mascara or lip gloss. He wore a simple pair of leather loafers with socks, a black banded watch and no earrings. All of it was intentional to send a message, to whom Mustang was uncertain, but if the kid made the effort, it would be rude to not comment.

"That's a different look," Mustang said. "Very preppy."

“Code switching,” Stephen said. "Yesterday was a special occasion, so I had to go all out. Today, I'm not sure what the plan is, so I have to be the good little Asian kid who looks like a foreign exchange student."

"Funny," Mustang said, watching him pull the tray of biscuits and bacon from the oven. "You like to cook, I see."

"These biscuits will make you want to slap your Mama," Stephen said, "Ms. Helen taught me how to make these. I can't wait to see your face when you try one."

"I know how they taste; I grew up on them," Mustang replied. "Those are my Mama's biscuits. She taught Helen how to make them, and now you know as well."

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