“Reading?” Jaxson started to whine, but his big brother gave him the elbow. “Okay. Reading.”
“Thank you. Don’t forget to tell your daddy thank you for the dinner, please? He made you chicken parm.”
“Yes, sir. It was really good.”
Connor watched as Early set down his wine. “Thanks, honey.”
“Thankyoufordinnerdaddymaywepleasebe…” Jaxson took a deep breath. “’Scused?”
“It was so good, Daddy. Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, sons. Please wash your hands after feeding/handling/touching the mouse in any way and before your reading.” Early sat with his beer, waiting for the boys to leave. “I bet that mouse escapes and infests the house.”
“I won’t say I told you so.” They’d had mice before; it was a thing. They’d just go to battle stations. “DEFCON 1.” He looked his husband over critically. “Thank you for the wine. Something’s wrong. What is it?” This was the part where the cowboy in Early won out first, and Early would say “I’m fine”, until they were done with dishes or headed to bed and then he might sigh and fess up.
If it was really awful Early would find an excuse to go hide in the garage for a few minutes andthenthey’d talk.
“I’m fine. I—” Early twisted the top of his bottle. “It’s just some bad news from my dad.”
And then there was this scenario. “Oh, honey.” He got up from his chair and pulled one closer to Early. “Not your Momma?” Please not his mother; she was the queen of amazing women.
“Fuck no. She’s going to outlive us all. Uncle Rick. It won’t be long now.”
Early’s Uncle Rick was one of Early’s biggest supporters, a good, amazing man who had rapid-onset Alzheimer’s. The last time they’d gone out for Easter, Rick had been violent, terrified, and restrained.
“You need to go. Why are you sitting here? When did you find out? Let’s get you on a plane.” He pulled out his phone.
“No. He’s not there. Pop says he’s not there at all. He had a stroke this morning, and they’re just waiting for the end. Me being there won’t help. I’ll go afterward, when I can be useful.”
“You’re sure? I’m so sorry. You should have told me. I could have at least come home early, dealt with this lunacy.” He leaned closer and kissed Early’s cheek, then took a hand in his. “I know, it’s not worth hashing out. I’m here now, though.”
“Thanks, babe. I love you. I’m just tired.”
Ha hated this for Early. Early was close with his parents, but Rick had been the first one in Early’s corner, the first person Early really trusted with difficult things like how to manage being gay on a ranch.
“Go take a shower, put on comfy PJ’s, and go to bed. I got the dishes. I didn’t bring home any work tonight, so I’ll join you as soon as I get the hooligans in bed.” Early liked a back rub, and he had magic fingers. It was a gift.
“I’ll deal with the dishes, babe. You handle Thing One and Thing Two.” Early sighed and shook his head. “Lord have mercy, I hate this for him.”
God, the man was impossible to pamper, even when he needed it. He ran a soothing hand over Early’s shoulder and stood. “Rick was loved. If he can manage to remember anything, he’ll remember that. Doesn’t matter by who.”
“I’ll shoot myself first, before I let myself get there. I won’t make you watch me become a…whatever Rick is now.” Early’s expression was pure horror, pure pain. “I don’t understand how the good lord lets someone’s brain dissolve in their damn skulls.”
“Oh, Early.” He caught his husband by the nape and pulled the cowboy into his arms. “It’s going to be okay, honey. It’s okay.” God, he hoped so. Early was scaring him a little bit. “I love you.”
“I love you.” Early let him hold on, leaning in hard. “This is hard. I miss him.”
“I know. I know it is. Just breathe and do what you need to do, okay?” He’d insist they go for the service. Bring the boys.
“Yeah. Yeah, we’ll need to plan on going out for the funeral. I’m betting either Monday or Tuesday next week, if he dies during the night.” Early took a hitching breath. “I need to go. Do you—we haven’t ever talked about how to do funerals with the boys. How do you feel?”
“I think this was someone very important to you, and the kids should be there.”
“Can you come? I can’t—I can’t do this and deal with them alone.”
“Of course I’ll come. I’m not going to let you do this by yourself. We’ll all go.” He had to be there; where else would he be? Early and their boys were all the family he had.
It was a six-hour drive to Durango, but it was a beautiful ride, and the boys were happy to have extra time on their games. They could head out Friday after school, have supper on the road, and get themselves a hotel. Early’s folks had sold their home and bought a two-bedroom condo, and while it was a lovely place, it was about two thousand square feet too small for their sons.