Missing Son CH 033 (Patreon)

Patrick prepared dinner while his mother rested from her day at the diner. He’d spent the day trying to figure out how he was going to tell her about the invitation. He didn’t want this to turn into an argument.

It was a simple meal, ground beef with potatoes, carrots and onions. They ate in silence, or rather his mother ate, he pushed his food around. His appetite hadn’t shown up, and the way his stomach was churning, it wasn’t going to. 

He took his plate to the counter and rummaged through the drawer for a piece of foil. He found one that was large enough for his plate, and put that in the fridge. He leaned back against the counter.

“Mom.” He’d been trying to find a way to ease into it, but hadn’t been able to. “Dad wants us to celebrate my nineteenth birthday with them.”

“What?”

Patrick let her get over the surprise.

“How did they asked you? Did they call? how did they get your number?”

“No mom, they didn’t call.”

“Did they show up here? I can’t believe they dared come here after I threw them out.”

Patrick wondered what she was remembering. She hadn’t thrown them out, and he knew that if they’d come a second time they would have told him about it.

“No mom, they didn’t come here.”

“Then how did they invite you? did they send you a message?”

“No, I spent the day with them yesterday.”

“What! Why did you do that? don’t you realize they’re no good for you?”

“They’re my father.” Patrick kept his tone calm. His mother was working off antiquated beliefs. It wasn’t her fault. He wasn’t going to loose his temper. 

“I don’t care that one of them is your father. I don’t want you to have anything to do with them. They can only be a bad influence on you.”

Deep breaths. “They are both my fathers. And they aren’t trying to influence me. All we did was go to a baseball game and play catch in the park.”

“I don’t care. It’s just a ploy. I know their going to try to take you away from me.”

“Damn it mom.” Breathe. “They don’t want to take me away, they just want me to be part of their family.”

“Right, their family of perverts.”

“Oh get off it mom!” Patrick shut up. Damn it, he promised himself he wasn’t going to lose it. “They’re gay, they aren’t perverts. And their sons, my brothers, they’re nice guys.”

“And how do you know that?”

Patrick signed. “Because they’ve all visited me. They’re nice. One’s a singer, a pretty popular one online too. One’s into mechanics, one’s a painter. They’re all fun to be around. And It would be nice to have a party for once.”

“I don’t care. I don’t like them.”

“Mom, you don’t even know them.”

“I know everything I need to know about them.”

“Fine.” Patrick took out his phone. “I’ll tell them it’s just going to be me.”

“Absolutely not! I forbid you to have anything to do with those fags.”

Patrick only realized he threw his phone when it exploded against he wall, behind his mother. She winced and stared at him.

“Don’t you ever refer to my father that way,” he growled.

“Patrick.”

“Did you fucking ear me mom?” He stepped to the table and glared at her. “You are never going to say that about my father ever again.”

“Patrick,” she repeated in a severe tone. “You are not going to use that kind of language in my house.”

He put his hands on the table and leaned in. “Fuck you, mom. You want me to use respectful language with you? Then you’re going to fucking show respect to my father.” He didn’t give her time to say anything. I went to his room and put clothing in a bag. He grabbed the phone Arthur gave him and pocketed it.

On his way out he stopped by the kitchen. “I’m leaving. Don’t bother calling me I’m not going to take your calls. When you figure out what it means to be a Christian, send me a message and I might call you back.” He left her there with a dismayed look on her face. He was proud of himself for not slamming the door.

* * * * *

Patrick knocked on the door and Richard yelled for him to come in.

He’d called as soon as he’d left the house. For a moment he’d considered calling his father, but it would be impractical. He couldn’t ask one of them to drive him here each time he needed to work.

The first thing that he noticed was that the door wasn’t locked. Richard never left his door unlocked. Then, the living room was clean.

“Rich, what’s going on?”

The rat poked his head out of the kitchen and Patrick motioned to the clean space.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve been keeping the place clean.”

“And the door wasn’t locked.”

“You were coming, it was easier to leave it unlocked.”

“You’ve never done that before.”

“I’m on medication now. It’s keeping my paranoia under control. Also off caffeine, that’s helping too.”

“I didn’t know you had that problem, I’m glad you’ve resolved it.”

“It’s thanks to you again. That company you hooked up with, they have an in house doctor, when they hired me he checked me up, had some blood tests done, scans. Turns out I have a slight chemical imbalance. The meds are fixing that. So, another fight with you mom?”

“It didn’t get to that, I left first. I’m fed up with her intolerance.”

“Well, you know you’re welcome here as long as you want. And you won’t have to share my bed. The guest bedroom actually usable now that I’ve thrown out all the crap I’d accumulated there.”

“Okay, and thanks again.”