Disasterology 101 (44 page)

Cedric scanned through testimonials on the use of the medication. He’d known for a while the drug could solve his impotence issue, but he’d been resistant to even consider it.

He was twenty-six. Having to take Viagra in order to get it up was a direct hit to his ego, and the possible side effects made him nervous. But he had to stop being a twat because, if he didn’t, he’d lose Kevin.

“And the students?” His mum kept firing questions. “Do they respect your boundaries? Have you had any episodes?” A loud, suffering sigh followed her words, and Cedric braced himself for the spiel he knew was coming. “Why must you insist on teaching at such a low level institution? You’re an architect first and foremost, dear. Not only are you overqualified to teach those people, but you are endangering your life every day you step out of your flat looking like a ruffian. It has to stop. No more wild hairstyles and hoodlum clothes, and no more unnecessary exposure. We will be done with this rebellious phase of yours when you return, and you’ll remain safe among us forever.”

Meaning she expected Cedric to go back to London and live in his parents’ house, like some old fart incapable of protecting and looking after himself.

Cedric squeezed his eyes shut and gulped. The idea of going back to the kind of life he’d had before moving to America made him sick to his stomach.

He took a deep breath and counted to thirty.

“This is far from a rebellious phase. Haven’t you paid attention every time I told you about my progress?” He grabbed the few pages he’d just printed, and arranged them into two groups. “Coming to America is quite possibly the best decision I ever made.”

“It’s dangerous for someone like you.”

“The same way you thought going to university would be?”

His mum had tried to get him privately tutored through his architectural degree, and was a nervous wreck when he wouldn’t hear a word about it. Had it been up to her, Cedric would still be living
safely
at home, mucking about and experiencing life through others.

Depressed.

Hating himself.

Growing more resentful with every passing day.

“And I was right to worry, wasn’t I?” she rushed to say. “I truly wish I didn’t have to remind you of this dear, but you didn’t exactly make it through university unscathed.”

“Of course I didn’t.” Cedric rolled his eyes and dismissed her concerns. “I had to learn a way to tolerate being in class with other students. I came out of the closet. I had my heart broken for the first time. I was growing up, Mum. That things would happen to me was to be expected, and I’m bloody happy they did.”

He had suffered, and he’d wanted to end his life a few times, but he wasn’t about to admit that to his mum. It was years ago. He’d learned from it, recovered—albeit slowly—and moved on.

“You panicked,” she added. “You locked yourself in a classroom on ten different occasions, and wouldn’t let anyone near you. You—”

“Yet here I am. Older and calmer.” Cedric interrupted her, unwilling to let her excessive preoccupation bring him down. His own condition already took care of that. “And thanks to my degree, able to support myself.”

“You don’t need to work, and you risk your sanity every day you remain in Manhattan.”

More like he was affecting
her
sanity by being there.

It wasn’t a secret his mum didn’t much care for Cedric’s current location. As far as she was concerned, Manhattan was only acceptable as a place of business, and holiday destination. Living in the city was beneath their station.

“On the contrary, Mum.” Cedric checked his mobile again, and tugged his lip ring when he didn’t see a reply to the message he’d sent to Kevin a few hours ago. He’d tried to give him time to deal with his children, but patience wasn’t one of Cedric’s qualities. He needed to know if Kevin was holding up, and he wanted to know it immediately. “I’ve never felt more in control,” he said absently, extremely troubled by the fact he was being ignored.

Was Kevin mad? Annoyed? Tired of dealing with Cedric’s bullshit?

What if he’d decided to end things between them only because he thought Cedric was leaving anyway?

Bloody hell.

“Are you saying you actually
like
living in Manhattan?”

She sounded so confused, Cedric almost laughed.

Regardless of how many times he explained to his mum how beneficial it’d been for him to see Dr. Black, work from an office—as opposed to his studio at home—and share his knowledge and high education with students that couldn’t afford going to university, she never understood. She refused to. She was entirely too overprotective to accept that her little weird bird of a son had been right to fly the nest.

“It’s been liberating,” he restated as he sat in front of his drawing table and studied the design he’d been working on earlier that day. Or trying to work on, anyway. He was so worried, that every line turned out to be crap.

“How could you think living in such a wild city could be liberating? Doesn’t it bother you being away from your home and family?”

“I miss you all,” Cedric said after considering his answer for a few seconds. He didn’t want to upset his mum, but was determined to be honest, and do what was best for himself. “But not so much that I would leave everything behind in order to go back.”

His mum gasped. “How can you say that?”

“Here I’m not the freaky kid in an otherwise perfect family, Mum. I’m just a troubled chap earning a living, and spending half his salary in psychological therapy, same as two thirds of the city’s population.” A slow smile spread across his face when he realized how common that really was, and how normal he
felt
. “I don’t have society’s eyes on me.”

“Cedric—”

“I don’t have to worry about the many ways in which everything I do will reflect on you and Dad. I don’t need to hide for any reason other than to recover from an episode if something turns out to be too much for me to handle, and even then it’s not that big of a deal, Mum. I stay home, and when it has passed I go out and carry on with my life, certain I won’t read about it in some newspaper the following day.”

“What exactly are you saying?”

Cedric could tell she was hurt and scared. Obviously she knew him well enough to guess where their conversation might be heading.

“I like being here,” he whispered, “and I’m extending my stay in America.”

“How much longer would you stay?”

“Indefinitely.”

“That’s unacceptable,” she protested immediately. “We Haughton-Disleys remain together, dear. You know this.”

“I’ve never really been with the rest of the family, Mum,” he reminded her. “I’m the one who has always had to stay behind. The outcast who’s not only not right in the head, but also happens to be gay.”

“Not because we didn’t want you to be with us.”

“Because I couldn’t be. I know,” he snapped.

He probably should feel guilty about not wanting to rush back to London and spend some meaningful time in the same room with his family now that he had a better handle on his reactions, but he didn’t.

“You need to come back home.”

“I will come visit soon enough.”
And hopefully bring Kevin with me
.

“No….” She sniffled delicately. “I forbid you to stay in America.”

“You can’t forbid me to do anything,” he pointed out. “I’m twenty-six years old.”

“Your father will forbid it too as soon as he hears about this.”

“He encouraged me to come to America, Mum.”

“Only because he thought it’d be for a few months!”

Cedric shook his head. He refused to argue with his mum. “I’m afraid it’s not your decision to make.”

“And when exactly did you make this decision?” she persisted. “It’s the first time I’m hearing about it.”

When I visited my first construction site and saw the foundation being laid out for a building I designed.

When Roberto stepped into shoes my own brothers never quite filled.

When I realized Evan is a real friend, and I’d miss him dearly if I couldn’t see him, and that my treatment with Dr. Black would have to stop.

When I thought about the fact that my time with Kevin was running out.

“I think it was gradual,” Cedric admitted. “Being here felt right, from the moment I arrived, and recent events have cemented my desire to stay.”

I need to talk to Kevin… I have to tell him I’ll do whatever I have to in order to get better and give him what he needs… I need to tell him I am in love with him, and find out how he feels about dating an oddball long term….

He checked his mobile again.

Nothing.

Bloody hell.

“Wearing atrocious garments while you live in Manhattan, and pretending you’re one out of hundreds of troubled young men won’t change the fact that you are a Haughton-Disley,” his mum said. “You will never be like the rest of the American population, and you’ll never be able to blend, regardless of how long you stay, or what you wear.”

“Have you looked at me in the past six years?” He shook his head, and tapped the drawing table with a pencil while images of himself flashed in his head. “I don’t hide behind my clothes. It’s what I like, and I’ve been wearing the same style everywhere but the office since my first year in university.”

“I’m trying not to think of it.”

“I like my anonymity.” Cedric glanced in the direction of the mock-up of the building he had worked on so hard—and for which he was getting recognized—and his smile got bigger. “And I love my architecture and teaching jobs. I’m looking forward to seeing my designs come to life.”

“What about your—” She interrupted herself. She had always thought discussing any kind of illness was in bad taste.

“I can handle my condition.” He looked around his spacious office, and took a deep breath. His hard hat and construction boots were in a corner; purposely placed six inches away from the wall. Five hours and he hadn’t had the urge to move them at all. “I’ve come a long way,” he concluded with a smile, the memory of the time he’d spent with Kevin’s kids clear in his mind.

“You have only been abroad a few months.”

“They’ve been intense, though.”

“How so?”

“I’ve made a life in America, Mum,” he said, convinced she wouldn’t appreciate the graphic details. “I feel like I belong.”

“You had a life in London, Cedric.”

“I meant a real life,” Cedric whispered, his eyes fixed on the lines and angles of the design in front of him. “With things I thought I could never have.”

“What could you possibly have found in Manhattan that you can’t have here as well?”

“Good friends. A therapist I like. A purpose and direction, and even what could pass as a social life.” He closed his eyes, briefly considering how smart it would be to mention one of his biggest reasons for wanting to stay. He wasn’t in the mood to get into an argument with his mum, but ultimately decided to take the plunge. The sooner she found out, the sooner she would start getting used to the fact that he wasn’t going back. “I also found Kevin Morrison.”

“Who’s Kevin Morrison?”

My haven.

The man who has been ignoring my calls all day.

Cedric got up from his chair, and walked around the office. “A wonderful man I had the good fortune to meet, and have every intention of keeping.”

“The name doesn’t sound familiar to me.” His mum’s tone was so cold that Cedric felt chilled to his bones. “Is he a business associate? Another architect? A—”

“He’s a construction worker, Mum,” Cedric cut her off.

He was painfully aware of the fact that she would never “approve” of a relationship between him and Kevin. She had been very clear about it when he came out to her eight years ago.