“Shh….” He smiled reassuringly. “You’re doing fine. Don’t beat yourself up too much. We….” He grimaced and gestured to the kitchen with the clean sink and swept floor. “We sort of cleaned up for you, and I’m afraid it tuckered us out. Ten even managed to spray-bleach the furniture and throw a sheet over it. He really didn’t want you guys to get sick.”
Nina watched him as he spoke, her big brown eyes luminous and wide. “It is so hard,” she said, her voice gruff, “to reconcile the Tenner who works so hard to keep us healthy, to make us happy, to accommodate everything I need, with the guy who was asleep in your arms five minutes ago.”
Ross blinked several times, not sure how to help with this one. “I…. See, I’m too close to this,” he said apologetically, thinking about how easy it was to soothe Tenner’s mother compared to the nightmare of understanding and resentment that was building in his chest toward Nina. “I can’t see anybody else. He’s the same guy. Piper is his priority—yes, even over me. I’m fine with that. My parents raised us all to worship the baby god. Give the child absolutely everything they wanted or needed, no questions asked. And you’d think that would make us all spoiled rotten. I mean, I’m the youngest, right? I should be a nightmare of self-interest. But that’s not what happened at all.”
“What happened?” Nina asked blankly as if surprised to find herself in this conversation.
“We grew up to worship the next baby god. The young person in the family comes first, and that love rolls downhill.”
Nina swallowed again and reached for the bags, but Ross beat her to it.
“Here, let me put these away.” He yawned into his shoulder. “You brought us food and that was so nice—”
And that, of all things, seemed to help. “Sit,” she said shortly. “You’ve both been sick, and I’m here trying to do something nice, and I can’t make that happen if I’m having a bitch conniption.” She started pulling essentials out of the bags—fresh bread, preshredded chicken, salad fixings. When she opened the refrigerator, she made approving sounds. “Desi’s been making you soup,” she said happily.
“Yeah. My sister’s the best.”
She glanced at him, chewing that adorable little mouth. Oh, Tenner, if you were going to try for a girl, this would be the one. Ross could see how she’d appeal to him, to his chivalry, to his pixilated sense of humor. She wasn’t Ross’s type emotionally—high maintenance, even when she was working hard to be a lower-key person—but he had to give her points for trying.
“You’re really Patrick’s brother-in-law,” she said, almost musingly. “I… I heard Pat and Desi talk about you a million times, you know. You’re sort of the family hero. I….” She shook her head. “Okay, I didn’t realize you were gay, and that shouldn’t mean anything. I mean, with Desi and Pat, it didn’t. You were just her little brother and she’s proud of you. Why would she mention that you’re gay? Like, she’s not going to tell me your sex life. It shouldn’t matter to me. So why am I surprised?”
He smiled briefly, liking her repeated attempts to talk herself down. He could see why Tenner worked so hard to keep her happy—worked so hard to introduce things like his new relationship a little bit at a time. She wasn’t evil. She wasn’t even really bitchy. She was complicated. And obviously a good mother. Ross was going to have to work hard too.
“I’m bi,” he said, like it was an introduction. “And you’re right—it shouldn’t matter. But it does, because now I’m involved in your life in an unexpected way.”
She nodded, shoving food in the refrigerator. “That’s it. I’m… I’m so bad at the unexpected,” she said, like she expected him to contradict her.
“Some people are,” he said neutrally. “I’m actually sort of good at it.”
She gave him a dry look, and he returned it with his most winning smile.
At that moment they heard Tenner from the living room. “Ross? And your mother? In the kitchen together?”
Tenner’s bare feet on the hardwood came next, and Ross got up just in time to catch him as he bounced off the doorframe with his shoulder.
“Take it easy,” he said, steadying Tenner’s shoulders. “She hasn’t killed me. She probably doesn’t feel like cooking, and we’re too sick to be the main course.”
“Ou—”
“Tenner, are you okay?” Nina called from the other side of the counter.
“—uch…,” he finished, rubbing his shoulder and looking down at his toe.
“Here, baby. Come sit.” Ross guided Tenner to the kitchen table and sat him down. “I’m going to grab us some ibuprofen and maybe some crackers, okay?”
“I’ll nuke some soup,” Nina said helpfully, and Ross saw her eyes darting from Tenner, who was still a little dazed, to Ross and back.
Well, awkwierd and helpful.
Complicated in spades.
“Daddy, are you okay?” Piper came running in from the living room, and unlike her father, she wasn’t disoriented from fever and congestion, so there was no running into the doorframe.
“Fine, pumpkin,” Tenner said, eyes on Nina.
“Daddy’s fine,” Nina said, and her eyes did that little dart from Ross to Tenner and back again. “You were right—Ross is taking care of him.”
“Can I go get my color books and pet Joe?” Piper asked happily. “He was asleep on Daddy’s bottom when we got in, wasn’t he? Wasn’t it funny when Ross got out from underneath him and the cat stayed on Daddy’s bottom?”
“Laugh riot,” Tenner muttered, and Ross chuckled.
“Go ahead,” Nina said. “Joe probably missed you this weekend.” She wrinkled her nose. “Although I think Daddy missed his cat box this week.”
“Shit,” Tenner said abruptly.
“I think that was her point,” Ross said, smirking. “Here, I’ll get it—”
“No,” Tenner said, fighting to rise. “I can do it.”
“Both of you sit down,” Nina said sharply. “God. I’m not that much of a bitch. Let me get you guys some lunch, then I’ll take care of it. Believe it or not, I know how to change the cat box.”
“Sorry, Nina,” Tenner said wretchedly, and Ross ignored the ex-wife and rubbed soft circles on Tenner’s lower back.
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” she said, putting a two-person serving tub of soup in the microwave and pressing buttons. “It’s not your fault I’m a freak who can’t deal with change.”
“Harsh,” Ross muttered.
“Just shut up, both of you, and let me pretend this is all normal and fine, and eventually it will be normal and fine, okay?”
Ross got it. In fact, he was pretty sure this was how prejudice in all its forms would eventually be conquered. By people working really hard to forget all the things they’d been programmed to believe. It didn’t come easy. Children had to learn to hate—adults had to learn to let go of it.
“That’s fine,” Ross said, feeling the tiredness that had taken him and Tenner out when they’d been on the couch resurface. “Honestly, I don’t know if either one of us is in any shape to fight you.”