Page 80 of Feuds and Interludes
I just hoped I didn’t fuck it up.
Twenty-Seven
Shane
“We really are going on an orgy bus, aren’t we?”
Boone and Bran cracked up at Annie’s drama as we loaded up the kitted-out RV we rented to drive up to Rocktoberfest.
“We’re happy to give up the room in back for you, Annie, and we’ll bunk it if you prefer.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re too tall for the bunks.” She sighed. “I will take the over-the-cab bed though. I can change up there and I won’t have to smell my brother.”
“She smells worse than I do,” Bran called out. “She denies it, but if she eats lentils or curry? Watch out. There’s no hope for you.”
“Fuck off,” she said, throwing Bran’s backpack at him.
I was looking forward to being on the road with Boone and the twins. We’d had a phenomenal week rehearsing for our set at Rocktoberfest. I felt like they trusted me a lot more than when we were up in Oregon. They gave me shit freely and the three of us even ganged up on Boone a few times, which had been so fun. I loved watching him squirm.
Our domestic life had been fucking perfect, too. In just a couple of weeks, we established a routine that worked for both of us, and when we weren’t working on music together, I retreated to my bedroom to read or draw, and Boone took over my spare room. He put his clothes in the dresser in there and I encouraged him to use my Warhammer table for writing or handling Stellar business. He didn’t need to know that under the surface was an elaborate, hidden countryside with battle-ready creatures I’d painted myself. I had to keep some secrets. He could be messy in there and we could share my room without any disputes.
The only hiccups had occurred the day after we’d returned from Oregon.
Boone and I were folding laundry when my phone buzzed.
“Mom? Everything okay?”
Boone’s eyes had gone wide and he’d gestured as if he should leave, to which I shook my head. I wanted him in all parts of my life, including the sticky ones.
“I don’t know, Shane, that’s why I’m calling you. Your grandfather hasn’t returned any of my calls, and when I went by his place, there were strangers moving in. Do you know anything about that?”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “I take it he hasn’t told you about his change in relationship status.”
“Change in what? What’s going on? Is he using?”
I sucked in a breath and it took all of my skills learned in Al-Anon and therapy to answer her in a neutral tone.
“He is sober and he’s sold his place. He moved in with his fiancée.”
“Hiswhat? At his age?Jesus, will that man ever?—”
“Mom? I’m happy to tell him you’d like to speak to him and then it’s up to him whether he contacts you. I can tell you that he’s safe and healthy. Is there anything else you need?”
Boone’s eyebrows went up to his hairline as he clenched a pair of my boxers in his fists.
I could just imagine my mother standing a little taller and kicking her chin out. “I’m sorry, I was just worried. How are you? Anything exciting going on?”
I grinned at Boone. “Things are good. I’m doing really good. Thank you for asking.”
She sighed. “Your stepfather’s sixty-fifth birthday is coming up at the end of the month, and we’d like it if you’d attend.”
My nostrils flared. I would go. Arman Grigoryan had mostly been good to me, and he respected my need to set boundaries with my mother.
“I’d love to. Text me the details?”
“I will, and perhaps you can pass them along to my father.” He was my grandfather when she was pissed at him and her father when she was pissed at me.
“I will,” I said, though her tone let me know in no uncertain terms that she was displeased. “I’ll be on the road the week before, but I’ll be back in time to come to Arman’s birthday. Thanks for calling.” Even if she was calling primarily to find out aboutherfather.
