“He sounds… tough,” Adam said carefully.
“Yeah. Anyway, I should tell you, before you decide about tomorrow, that he’s in a home. He has dementia and it makes him say some… shitty things. I’m used to it, but it’s okay if you’d rather stay behind.”
“No way,” Adam said. “No fucking way. I’m coming with you.”
Relief made Etienne’s head swim. He pressed a kiss to Adam’s hair.
“Stay with me tonight?” Adam murmured.
“I’ve got my bag,” Etienne said. “If you’re sure?” The thought of his cold, dreary apartment made him shiver.
“How else am I going to wake you with a blowjob?”
Etienne laughed and rolled on top of him to kiss him.
17
Etienne was nervous the next day, it was obvious. He’d kissed Adam good morning willingly, but in the car on the way to the facility, his eyes darted this way and that, fingers tapping against the gift-box of chocolates for his father and his knee jittering.
Adam touched his leg. “Breathe.”
Etienne slouched, grumbling.
“You look nice,” Adam said, trying to distract him.
It almost worked. Etienne glanced at him, eyes narrowing. Adam raised an eyebrow, daring him to argue. It was true, in any case—he’d shaved extra closely that morning and meticulously styled his dark hair so it was swept back in a sleek wave. Half-asleep in the bed, Adam had heard him talking to himself under his breath as he dithered over what to wear. In the end, he’d decided on a shirt the color of his eyes that he’d carefully ironed first and a pair of softly faded jeans.
Etienne finally glowered and muttered, “Thanks.”
Adam rewarded him with a pat on the knee.
Four Winds Nursing Home was a sprawling facility that covered most of a city block. Low to the ground and blocky, it made no presumptions toward gracious living or state of the art facilities, but inside it was spotless, neat, and quiet.
The receptionist smiled brightly at Etienne when they approached. “Mr. Brideau, how nice to see you! Your father’s just finished his breakfast and is in the common room, would you like to go through?”
Etienne led Adam through halls that smelled like antiseptic and cleaning solution, to a huge area filled with light from floor-to-ceiling windows and sunroofs overhead. Adam blinked, startled. It wasn’t what he’d expected, somehow. The room was spacious, welcoming, with gracefully arching beams overhead and thick carpet underfoot. Several elderly people huddled over a puzzle in the corner, talking quietly. A few more were scattered throughout, one reading, others watching the television in another corner. A tiny old woman, face wrinkled and eyes sweet, waved at Adam as he passed and he waved back.
“Apparently sunlight is really good for a lot of different issues,” Etienne said under his breath as he threaded his way across the room, Adam on his heels. “They spent most of their budget on this room because they saw a drastic improvement in both physical and mental health after just an hour spent resting in sunlight.” He stopped in front of the windows and a man in a wheelchair. “Hey Dad,” he said. He sounded wary.
The man lifted his head, blinking. He looked almost nothing like Etienne, Adam realized, vaguely surprised. His hair was the same color, as were his eyes, but the similarities ended there. This man’s nose was straight and his mouth was full and perfectly shaped, even with age pulling at it. He’d clearly been a strikingly handsome man in his prime.
“Who are you?” he asked, staring at Etienne.
“It’s me,” Etienne said, summoning a smile that looked forced. “Etienne. Your son. This is my friend Adam. Adam, this is my father, Pierre Brideau.”
Adam held out a hand but Pierre ignored it, focusing on Adam’s face. His eyes lit up. “Etienne!”
Adam glanced at Etienne, who looked startled.
“Dad, this is Adam. I’m Etienne.”
Pierre ignored him. “Etienne,” he repeated, smiling at Adam. “So good of you to come see this old man, son. How have you been?”
Etienne swore under his breath and pulled up two chairs. Sitting, he leaned forward. “Dad. I’m Etienne. This is my friend Adam.”
Pierre didn’t seem to have heard him. “Where’s your mother? She was just here. Did you bring me anything?”
Etienne leaned forward and placed the small white box of chocolates in his father’s hand. “The kind you like,” he said.
Pierre looked at him and frowned. “Who are you? Why are you talking to me like I know you? Etienne, who is this man?”
Adam didn’t know what to say. He glanced at Etienne again, who looked frustrated and confused. Etienne caught his eye and shrugged helplessly. Roll with it, he seemed to be saying.
Pierre was still talking. “Look at you, all grown up.” He laughed, a sudden sharp cackle that made Adam jerk. “You were the ugliest kid. No one believed you were mine, you know that? Have to admit I wondered a few times myself.”
Etienne went very still beside Adam.
“I was embarrassed to take you places, I don’t mind telling you,” Pierre continued. “People wondering how I was so handsome and had such a homely kid. But I did my duty by you anyway, and I guess you turned out alright, didn’t you? Downright good-looking, in fact.” He examined Adam again, frowning. “Where’s your mother?”
“She left,” Etienne said, and Adam had never heard him sound like that, choked and deadly quiet. “She walked out when I was six, Dad.”
“Tenny,” Adam whispered, but Etienne shook his head, sharp and vicious, and Adam shut up. Worry ate at him with needle-sharp teeth, but there was nothing he could do here, not in front of the man who was still talking, this time recounting the time Etienne had asked someone to a school dance and been publicly rejected. He was laughing, the bastard, and Adam wanted to hit him suddenly, wanted to shake him and demand to know how he couldn’t see the beauty in his own child, how he could have let him grow up with that poisonous worm festering at his core.
It wouldn’t do any good. The man sitting in front of them didn’t know what he was saying. They were years too late to stop the harm he’d already caused, but that didn’t stop the tears from gathering in Adam’s eyes as Pierre launched into another story of Etienne being rejected as Etienne sat beside Adam, still as stone.
Adam wanted to flee but he made himself take it, forced himself to stay in his chair, aching to touch Etienne but unable to. He wasn’t leaving this room without Etienne by his side. When an attendant appeared to take Pierre for a massage, Adam couldn’t hide the relief as he stood. Etienne followed suit silently.
“Come back soon,” Pierre told Adam. He didn’t look at Etienne as he was wheeled away.
Adam said nothing as they left the building. Etienne had the look of a bomb about to blow, his shoulders tight and his mouth set. Adam requested a car, careful not to touch him. He didn’t know how to fix this. What was he supposed to say? What should he do? An idea occurred to him and he edited the destination request in the app, still silent. When the car arrived, they slid into the backseat, Etienne keeping his hands folded in his lap as he stared straight ahead.