Rifts (18 page)

I narrowed my eyes at him, scowling - with what I hoped was ferocity -and bellowed, "I can say what I want. I'm three times your age. When you get to be my age, you can say what you want. For right now, you're twelve and you're not supposed to swear in front of ladies. Got it?"

He grumbled under his breath, forgetting that I could hear every word perfectly. "Yeah, you're getting your mouth washed out for that one buddy," I growled.

His eyes widened in shock and then he blushed. "Sorry, Mom."

"Are you okay?" I sighed and patted him down just to be sure nothing was broken.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Drew wanted to tell me something but he said we had to wait for you. I thought I'd come get you."

"Oh."

"That's it? Oh?"

"Yeah, okay. I don't know what to say here. Let's grab Drew and go somewhere we can talk."

He rolled his eyes at me and led the way out into the sunshine. Drew was fidgeting. He looked like a nervous Groom standing at the altar with the knowledge that his Bridezilla was actually a soul-sucking demon from the fifth level of Hell. I raised my eyebrows at him and nodded toward the road.

"Let's walk while we talk. Drew, you can start."

"Seriously, you guys are making such a huge deal out of this. I was wondering when you'd get around to telling me that Drew was my Dad." With that said, Dylan walked briskly toward the path, leaving Drew and I with jaws in the dirt, gaping behind him.

"Ho-how did you know?"

"I'm twelve, Mom, not an idiot." He scowled at me and jammed his hands in his pockets.

I looked at Drew, eyes wide. "Well?"

"Rumors?" he asked lightly.

"Genetics. I look nothing like my Dad, but I have your eyes and nose. We learned about genetics in the fourth grade." His voice sounded so bored, but there was a tightening in his shoulders that betrayed his mood.

I did what any mother would do. I grabbed him and pulled him into a hug. I knew it wouldn’t help much in the way of lightening the heavy load of the news. However, it let him know that no matter what, he was MY kid. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't know until about a month ago," I murmured against his hair.

"Yeah, but you knew that Dad wasn't my Dad and you lied to me. That's not cool." His muffled words clenched at my heart and I tightened the hug.

"It didn't make a difference. He's your Dad. You didn't need to know because it doesn't change a thing. Right?"

He shook his head against my chest and returned my squeeze. "No, I guess not."

"You are
mine
. You get that kid? You are mine and it doesn't matter who donated the sperm. I am your Mom and it's always going to be you and me, no matter what." I took a step back and peered into his eyes, looking for understanding.

Tears were threatening, but he staunchly refused to let them fall. That was my Bubby. He was going to get manly about it. But, he knew that it was okay to let it out if he needed to. He coughed once and then, "Why did you decide to tell me now?"

"Well," Drew finally piped in. "It's mostly for your protection and kind of because I want you to be
mine
too." As he stressed the word
mine
, his gaze met mine and we had one of those five second eye conversations.

'No, he's not,' my eyebrows told him.

'Try keeping him from me,' said his.

'You need to earn this,' I commented in turn.

'Fair enough,' he replied and nodded in acknowledgement.

"Oh my God! Are you guys doing that eyebrow conversation thing again? Just say what you want to say. You guys drive me crazy lately with the fighting. I don't know what's going on, but you have to stop."

That effectively called a halt to the non-verbal sparring. I threw one last scowl over Dylan's head and said, "You're right. We'll get it worked out. We should just have the conversation so you can hear it, too."

He nodded and dug in a little. This was the problem with being away from home. The routine was disrupted. Everyone had started treating him like he was a mini-adult instead of the child that he was. "Hey, I know that things are topsy-turvy right now. We'll get it worked out okay?" He nodded again.

"Hey," Drew interjected. "I want to let you know that I registered you in the Official Records as soon as you were born." He said it like we should be proud of him. Instead, I glared and shook my head.

"Yeah, thanks," said Dylan. He wasn't impressed. It was like someone had taken a blender to Drew's brains and made him forget who this kid was. It was time to steer this conversation in a better direction.

"Okay, look - there's a fountain over there. Let's go cop a squat and talk this out. Things are awkward. Don't things feel awkward?"

They both nodded. In that moment I couldn't believe how I hadn't seen it before. My head dropped back and I took a deep breath. Man, I was pretty blind in the midst of self-pity, neurosis and whatever the hell I'd been for the last six months.

Like a troop of masochists on a death march, we shuffled to the fountain and took opposite corners. There was no angst here. No Sirree! "Okay, so the first issue we have here is that only one of us knew the whole truth this entire time." I threw a pointed glance at Drew. "Next, there is a lot of confusion on what this means. Am I right?" Dylan was on the receiving end of my next questioning gaze.

"I guess," he muttered.

"Yeah," Drew agreed.

"Okay. So Drew, are you sorry?" He nodded an affirmative and I continued. "Great, that leaves us with the two of you working this out. Dylan, he's your father."

My kid never ceases to amaze and amuse me because what he did next left me on the ground with tears in my eyes. "NO," he screamed. "That’s Not True! THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE!"

To which Drew responded, "Yes, Dylan. I am your faaaather."

It took me awhile to breathe again and when I finally stopped with the fits of giggles, they were grinning at each other.

"Hey, you wanna go play Halo?" Drew asked him.

"I didn't bring my stuff with me," Dylan replied with a pout.

"We can just jump down to the house for a bit, then."

"Whoah! Absolutely not."

Drew frowned and asked, "Why not?"

"Why did we come to Olympus in the first place?" With a suddenness that put a damper on the previous light mood, I was all seriousness. "Well?"

Drew took a deep breath, closed his eyes and responded, "He'll be with me. He'll be safe."

Every atom in my body, every breath was telling me that this was such a bad idea. But, there comes a time when you have to let go. Most mothers don't have to deal with it until their kids hit 18 and are on their way to college. Some have to give it a go a little earlier.

I suppose this was my time. I looked at Dylan - really looked at him. He was changing so fast, growing so tall and shedding the chubby bits that kept him as a perpetual four year old in my mind. He wanted to go. I could see it in the tense set of his shoulders. He was holding his breath, waiting for me to decide.

It was good that he got this. He couldn't push. I had to let go on my own. "You know the rules. You’ve got one hour. You have to take Scooter with you. If that house isn't left as clean as it is when you step through the door, you're going to be grounded forever." I pointed at him and nodded. "I'm serious. Forever."

His frame slumped with relief as he took a breath. "Like I ever mess up the house," he scoffed.

"After we game, I'll make sure he eats. I know you have a thing with Hephaestus."

"I don't have a
thing
." It was said too quickly and probably an octave over my normal voice.

"Riiiight," he replied. "Anyway. Whatever, the kid and I are going to bond. It's been a month since we got to hang out."

"I don't have a thing," I persisted. Dylan raised his eyebrows at me and I shook my head. "Well I don't. We still have training."

"Whatevs, Mom. You should probably think about dating or something. You're getting squidgy."

"Get out of here," I growled. "Before I change my mind."

Drew laid a hand on Dylan's shoulder and as they popped out, my stomach dropped. Oh it's so easy to be brave when faced with two hopeful faces. Once that expectation is gone, it gets rough.

"So you're free to train?"

I jumped a mile in the air and turned around snarling. "Would you fucking
quit doing that
? I thought you weren't supposed to leave your lair, or something!"

He didn't deserve my shouting but the entire 'people sneaking up on Grace' theme was getting old. Sure, I should pay more attention to my surroundings, but damn!

He bit his lip and looked suspiciously like he was hiding a grin. “A-are you
laughing
at me?" I asked incredulously.

"No?" He answered, and turned away so I couldn't see his face.

I marched right up to him and poked him in the chest, forgetting how incredibly BIG he was. "Listen, I get that you have to train me but this habit you have of sneaking up on me is stupid. Announce yourself, or something. How in the hell are you so damned big, but don't make any noise? You should sound like a fucking lumbering bear or something."

He gurgled as his stomach spasmed. I threw up my hands and turned to walk away. "Not just yet, missy," he called. "We still have work to do, so come along."

He grabbed my wrist and we ported into a frozen wasteland.

Rumor has it that the Vikings pulled a sneaky and named Greenland such to keep invaders away from Iceland. I guess if you think about it, it makes sense. Who wants to visit Iceland when Greenland is just sitting there begging to be plundered. Farmland and breasty vixens just waiting for every man!

Yeah, it's not green. It's the ninth circle of Hell. I'm pretty sure that in that moment, Heph and I were the only two living organisms on the rock they loosely called a subcontinent.

My teeth started pounding together and I huddled into myself, trying to combat the wind pelting ice at my lightly clothed body. "Wh-what are we doing here?" I stuttered.

"Training," he boomed over the wind. "And dinner. I believe I asked you to eat with me."

"I d-don't s-see anything t-to eat." Why wasn't he shivering like I was? It was colder than a witch's tit and he seemed to be as comfortable here, as he was in his forge. "Aren't y-you c-cold?"

"Remember the trick with raising your temperature? You can lower it too."

"L-like a s-snake?" God, I was getting tired of this stuttering.

"Sure. If you want to think of it that way, you can. You're not cold blooded like a snake is, though. You just have the ability to regulate your temp when you want to. Think about something that leaves you emotionally frigid and see if it helps."

Of course I immediately thought of Brandon. Hah! Oh I cracked myself up. The laughing helped calm me and the air around me was no longer quite so bitter. "Wouldn't I want to
raise
my body heat?"