CHAPTER 74 - WISE WORDS FROM A WISE KID
MASTER BEDROOM - EARLY DAWN BRIAN I creep back into bed with my bounty. He doesn’t shift, but I know he will. We made very slow love after he drilled me over the island, and his plum is tuckered out, the poor lamb, so he needs sustenance, especially as we have guests later. Ems pulled me aside and gave me this before he went, saying it was a repas privé pour deux au lit, and despite the, no doubt shitload of crumbs, I will suffer them gladly. I put his coffee mug on the side. I know this won’t wake him, but then I lift the lid of the cloche and wait...it is small but there is a sniff. I smile and waft it some more. He rolls over to face me, but doesn’t open his eyes...more wafting. A bigger sniff. I tear open the bread. He licks his lips and slowly opens one eye. “Wassat?” He mutters, looking at the plate. “Le Pain de Brioche.” He glares and sighs. “Else?” “Le beurre.” “Else else?” Both eyes are now open. “Beurre de bacon avec des herbes.” His gaze shifts from my face to the plate then he hustles to the bathroom. “I think I shall call it…” “Do not eat another thing until I get back! In fact, you must whistle and don't let it get cold!” He yells and then pokes his head out. “Start whistling!” “Show tunes?!” I call back before commencing whistling after I cover the dish. I stop whistling as he bounces back into bed, thoughts of bread and butter temporarily forgotten. “You really do have a beautiful cock.” “Yes, yes, yes...open!” He demands, reaching for the cloche then pouts when I swat his hand away. “Brian…” “It is still quite warm.” I chide him. “Now sit properly and be patient.” “MAN!” He grumbles, but does as I ask. “Yeah, this mean arrogant nutter would rather not go to emergency care because you got burnt.” He leans across to kiss my shoulder. “Thank you.” He sniffs again and I lift the lid. He stares before straddling my knees and picking up his pillow, I lift the tray so he can get it then himself in position. We are now facing each other with the cloche between us. “Want me to feed you?” “Of course!” He wiggles and licks his lips as I tear then dip. We lock eyes and his smoulder as he chews. “Mmmm!” He sucks the remains of the butter off my finger then holds it between his teeth. “Me.” I order huskily, and when the sweet and savoury tastes combine I feel my dick twitch. “Good isn’t it?” He purrs, dipping some more bread to feed himself. A crumb remains on his lip and he takes his time removing it. “So what are we having to eat today? Did Ems give a country at least?” “Two…” Our fingers brush against each others in the bowl. “...French-American and American-Asian.” “That’s four...and that’s my bit of bacon!” “We can always share it!” I pop it in between my teeth and waggle it at him, I groan as his plump warm lips meet mine and we pass the bacon between us until it is just our tongues sliding against each other. We stop kissing and feed each other in silence, the only sounds are the sighs of appreciation and the plate and butter dish chiming against each other. When there is nothing but crumbs, he moves the tray to the floor and replaces the pillow with himself in my lap. “Want to know what we’re cooking today?” I ask between kisses. “Hmm.” He mumbles as he gently attacks my neck. “Baked camembert with pecans and blueberries for the grown ups and sesame honey halloumi fries for the kids, French onion hot dogs and string fries with thyme and lemon salt and clementine sorbet.” He stops attacking and looks astounded. “And for our breakfast, biscuits with tomato gravy, egg and bacon.” “Kitchen!” He orders and leaps off to get some clothes on. BRIAN AND VIC’S HOUSE - EARLY AFTERNOON BALCONY VIC Brian had gone so still and quiet after Arthur had caught Robbi and me up on the trial, we thought he wasn't going to come around when it came to his little speech. Robbi is on the phone saying something about sufferance, and Carl is coming back with a large whiskey. “Son, knock it back.” He hands it to Brian and he does as he's told, with a bit of spluttering. “You okay? You with us?” He nods and looks around. “They are having a nap, if you are wondering where Gus and Jenny are.” More nodding and some colour coming back into his face. “What happened?” “I just had a flashback...to one of the...excuse me.” “Where is he going?!” Claire asks concerned. “Should I…” “No, Mom, let me.” Peter stuns us all by standing and following Brian before anyone can stop him. With a nod from Arthur, John swiftly follows. OFFICE BRIAN I look up at the knock and sigh. Closing my book, I put it in the drawer and call whoever it is in. I am surprised to see Peter and then John, both looking worried. “I’m…” I begin, but Peter shakes his head. “What?” “You’re not okay. You're not.” He states firmly and sits down. Again, John follows his lead. “What were you doing before we came in?” I war with myself as to whether to tell them or simply shrug instead. “Let me ask another way, what were you thinking when you were doing what you were doing?” “What have I done that is so horrifying that he and his mother got off from me being miserable and in so much pain? I was a kid for fuck sake! They were supposed to be my harbour, my safety, my sanctuary, what the fuck did I do?!” “Uncle Brian, you did nothing!” Peter exclaims, and we go quiet. “It just happened to be you, don’t you see? She needed an outlet and you were it for her frustrations! Like I said in court, by having you beaten, she was beating him too!” He takes a breath. “When Senior was going to beat us, we would know. Even before he hit us we would know. There would be that look and the way he held himself…” “And looked at us as if trying to see where to lay the first punch.” John whispers. “Every time I saw that look in his eyes, I feared that this time he would go too far, that this time he wouldn't be able to stop himself from beating me to death. But the worst thing was that look of glee he had when he was done, like he did the world a really big favor by punishing us. For what, I can only imagine. For existing I suppose.” “No, for trapping him in a life he didn’t want!” Peter sighs. “I heard him say that once, he never wanted us. He just wanted it to be him and Mom. So...yes, in a way you are right, he beat us for our existence because we ruined his plans on how he wanted to live his life.” “Boys,” Brian says. “Nothing he did was your fault. You were kids, he was your father. It should have been in his DNA to love you, and..” “So that means that it wasn't your fault either, Uncle Brian!” Peter says. “Don’t you see it? They were your Dad, your best friend, and the woman who declared herself to be your mother. Not your surrogate mother, but your mother. They should have loved you, made you feel safe, not mentally beat you, not ensured that you were beaten, treated you like dirt and still feel so freaking good about it! So if you want us not to feel guilty about what has happened to us, the same goes for you. Otherwise we are as much to blame as you think you are!” “And they say that I am the one with the brains in this family.” I say with a hint of a smile. “When did the two of you become so smart?” I walk over to them and pull them into a tight hug. “No more blaming then, ok? None of us. I love you boys and I couldn't be prouder of you than if you were my sons.” I start to usher them out then stop and clear my throat. “I was writing my feelings down.” “Good.” Peter declares and squeezes my arm. “Then that good notebook will expunge the memories of the others and help you heal.” Bacon butter: https://www.olivemagazine.com/recipes/entertain/bacon-butter/ Halloumi: https://www.sainsburysmagazine.co.uk/recipes/starters/sesame-honey-halloumi-fries Hot dogs: https://www.ourlifetastesgood.com/2015/09/french-onion-hot-dogs.html Salt: https://www.sbs.com.au/food/recipes/lemon-and-thyme-salt Clementine: https://www.seriouseats.com/recipes/2013/01/clementine-sorbet-recipe.html