The Boy Who Came in From the Cold (43 page)

A long time ago
, some part of him answered.

His stepfather all but pushed his way in, and his mother followed. They stopped just inside the door and stared at the big room around them.
Just like I did the first time
, Todd thought.
God. Was it less than a week ago?

“Sit down,” Gabe offered. “I’ll make some coffee. It’s cold out.”

“That’d be right nice,” Todd’s mother said, and hesitating only a second, sat on the couch—not hugging Todd first. Todd’s stepfather had barely glanced at him before joining her.

And now there they were, sitting on one end of the couch while Gabe sat on the other end. Todd sat on one of the recliners. Away from them. They were drinking the coffee Gabe had made and were making small talk. All Todd could do was wonder:
What are you doing here?

“This is a very nice place,” Todd’s mother said. “You live here, Todd?”

Todd nodded stiffly. “Yes,” he said, just the one word. “You come a long way, Son,” she continued. “I’m proud a you.”

Todd felt something hitch in his chest.
Oh, my God. She said it. She actually said it. Proud of me
.

“That you could amount to something like this….”
Todd nearly gasped at the cruelty of the words, intentional or not. “Shit. I’da never dreamed it,” she continued.

“That’s because you
never
believed in me,” Todd said. The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
Where had that come from?
He’d surprised himself.

“Don’t talk to your mother that way,” said his stepfather

“It isn’t any of your concern how I talk to her,” Todd snapped.
You. You! How can you even be here?
The man sat up straighter, his hand gripping his thigh. “It ain’t respectful,” his stepfather said.

Todd shrugged. “It’s the way it is,” Todd replied.
“Todd,” Gabe whispered. “Take a breath.”

Todd glanced at his lover, heart pounding but in all the wrong ways. He saw all Gabe was doing was trying to calm him down, and as long as he was looking into Gabe’s eyes, it might work. Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible.

“This is such a surprise,” Gabe said, saving Todd from having to come up with something. “How did you two find Todd here?”
“We come to visit him at his apartment,” his mother said. “Only he weren’t there. The super said he moved out and gave us your address. Said you might know where he was.”
“That was taking quite a chance,” Gabe said. “You must have really wanted to see Todd.”

“Well of course,” she said stiffly. She clenched her purse. “He’s my son. Why wouldn’t I wanna see him?”
Gabe gave a hard nod, and Todd couldn’t help but think his lover wanted to say something else, but didn’t.
What’s going on?

“Mom,” Todd said. “I have to tell you, you’ve surprised the hell out of me—”
“I hope it’s a good surprise,” she said, smiling awkwardly. “I missed you, Son.”

Todd just sat there, more confused than ever.
Missed me?
It was not something he expected to hear. He’d figured she was in heaven with him gone.

“Those sure are some shoes you got there,” his stepfather said. Todd looked down and saw they were the ones with the brightly colored friendship bracelets pattern. “Kinda faggy, aren’t they?”

“Urston…!” Todd’s mother hissed.

“Can I use your john?” his stepfather asked abruptly, no preamble as per his way.
“Sure,” Gabe replied. “It’s just down the hall.”

The man nodded, rose, and walked past them.
“Mrs. Burton…,” Gabe began.
“Mrs. Sandburg,” she corrected.

(And oh, Todd hated that. Mrs.
Sandburg
. His stepfather’s name. She’d taken that name nearly fifteen years ago, and Todd had hated it then and he still hated it now)

“Mrs. Sandburg,” Gabe replied. “May I ask why you’re here?”

(But Todd hated it even more when someone—naturally, of course—assumed Sandburg was Todd’s last name.)
“Todd says he hasn’t heard from you in months—”

(But didn’t it give him a secret pleasure when every year a new teacher used “Mr. Burton” when meeting his stepfather? Not that the man deserved to get to use the name—but he knew the man hated it just as much as Todd hated being referred to as Sandburg.)

“—that you didn’t even call on Christmas.”

 

“That’s cuz it ain’t cheap to call Kansas City,” she replied. “We ain’t got a lot of money.”

 

“But surely, not even on Christmas?” Gabe asked. “What is it? Five cents a minute?”

 

Todd goggled at Gabe. Was he criticizing his mother?

Todd saw Gabe had slipped into business mode somewhere along the way. He was acting official and not at all as if he had guests. Is this the way he was in his boardroom?

“If the big shot can afford to live here,” his stepfather said, returning to the room, “then he could afford to call us.”

“Urston!” said Todd’s mother.
“What, Betty?” his stepfather said.
“Let’s be nice. We have things to talk about with Todd.” The man grunted and sat beside his wife.
Now let’s see what they say
, Todd wondered.

His mother cleared her throat, glanced at her husband, then back at Todd. “It’s about your father,” she said quietly.

 

“Urston isn’t my father!” Todd snarled.

 

She shook her head. “No. I mean your father. Him that helped make you.”

 

Todd slumped back in his chair. “My real dad?” he asked. She nodded. “Yes,” she said. “He done somethin’ for you ’fore he died. When you was just a baby.”

 

“He… he did?”

“He… he set you up a trust fund. And we been watching it. Waitin’ for it to… to….” She looked at the man beside her. “What’s it called? Mature? I think that is what it’s called. It comes to you on your twenty-first birthday, and that ain’t far away.”

“A trust fund,” Todd said, stunned. “He left me a trust fund?” Todd could not have been more surprised if she’d told him his father were still alive and was president of the United States.

His mother looked at her husband, eyes flickering. Then back at Todd.
“A trust fund,” Todd repeated. “But why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“We didn’t want to worry you none,” she replied. “What was you gonna do about it before now?”
“Well, there is the matter of the allowance,” Gabe said, and she turned to him, mouth falling open.
Todd turned to Gabe. “Allowance?”
Gabe nodded. “The two hundred dollars a month Todd was supposed to receive all this time.”
“That money,” said Todd’s stepfather, “has been used to take care of Todd. We got a lawyer, and he said we could spend it to take care of Todd until he’s twenty-one. You think kids are free? You think his clothes and food and stuff were free?”
“Clothes?” Todd exclaimed.
“You mean like that cheap fall coat you bought for him three years ago?” Gabe asked. “And how you claimed you couldn’t afford to get him a warmer one?”
Todd’s mother’s face had gone completely white, and her husband’s turned a bright red.
“There is electricity and gas and all kinds of stuff!” the man barked.
“But surely with the cost of living in Buckman and all the years you’ve worked selling combines and tractors and such for Newsome Farming Equipment. I understand you do well.”
Todd raised a fist in front of his mouth, trying to hide his expression. His stepfather’s eyes had grown wide and seemed ready to pop from his red face. “How did you know where I worked?” he barked. His mother tried to calm her husband with an open palm patting his knee. How many times had Todd seen that? It had surely spared

Todd a black eye a time or two, an injury he would have explained as a fall against a doorknob or some such lie. Had anyone ever believed his stories? In retrospect he figured that in a town like Buckman, you just didn’t ask.
“And these last six months?” Gabe asked. “I suppose you’ve set that twelve hundred aside? Since Todd wasn’t living with you?”
“Todd moved out!” his stepfather barked, jumping to his feet, hands clenched.
“And therefore the money should have been saved for him. Was it, Mrs. Burton?
Sandburg
, I mean.” Gabe looked at Todd’s mother instead of his stepfather. Todd was frozen. He was in too much shock to speak.
“I… we used it to get a new roof for our house,” his mother said.
“You mean
Todd’s
house, correct?”
The woman’s face paled even more and his stepfather’s turned an even brighter shade of red. “Todd’s house?” he shouted.
Gabe leaned back—relaxed. “Well, it will be in a few months, according to the will. I believe it says something about if his mother remarries by the time Todd is twenty-one, then he shall inherit the house since you, Mrs. Sandburg, have someone to support you. A man who makes a very decent living, as a matter of fact.”
Todd’s stepfather took two steps forward, one hand raised in a fist.
Gabe raised an amused eyebrow, sat up straight, massive chest flexing.
“My house?” Todd cried.
My house?
Gabe turned to him. “Yes, Todd. Your house.”
Todd thought for a moment he might faint. It was all too much. All of this was too much. First his mother and hated stepfather showing up out of the blue. Then all this stuff about a trust fund and allowance, and now the house belonged to him?
“He ain’t got no right to the house,” his stepfather said. “We took care of him all these years. We took care of the house, kept it up.”
“With Todd’s allowance,” Gabe replied.