Brainy and the Beast (35 page)

“Yes, Henry. Really?” I scolded Dr. Love—even though he was too damned cute for words sometimes.

Henry shrugged lightly. “Sorry, Grant.”

I frowned at the suspicious meekness in his voice. When I looked at Grant, I could see the kid was skeptical too.

“Guys!” My dad had his arms out, his fingers waggling toward himself. “Focus on me, huh? Can you please get to the point?”

So I rushed to get the entire story out in between the last bits of my breakfast. My dad alternated among anger, amazement, sympathy for Shawn, outright surprise at Henry’s bravery—although I didn’t know why, frankly—and frustration that he’d been kept in the dark.

“Is it because of this?” He patted his chest, over his heart.

“Seriously, Dad? Because, no. It’s not. When Henry and I got home last night, we got the kids settled, and then he and I had something more important to talk about than waking you up just so you could get aggravated.”

When Henry stretched out one arm and rested it on the back of my chair, I found myself almost snuggling into it.
Guh
. Me? Snuggle? But it felt good, just the same.

“Oh, yeah. That’s right. You guys discussed the
L
word.” The old man had a lemony twist to his mouth right then.

“Yes, we did.” Henry sounded supersure.

“Yeah. See? And now we’re—and now, we’re going to…” I frowned, stumped.

“You’re going to what?”

“Dad, why do you have to know everything right this minute? Maybe I don’t want to tell you, you ever think of that?” Or maybe it was because I didn’t have a freakin’ clue. Even though Henry had pledged himself—I didn’t know people did that anymore—I just didn’t know what I was supposed to do next. Not exactly a lot of experience with that kind of thing.

“Are you going to live here now?”

Henry’s shock at my nephew’s question was clear.

And my mouth was most definitely hanging open; I practically had to shove it closed with my hand. “Why are you—what makes you say that?” Jesus, I was sputtering.

Grant shrugged and kept his attention on his pancakes. “I don’t know. I just thought…”

Shawn finally raised her head. “Grant said Mr. Travis is your boyfriend. So now if you love each other, isn’t that what people do? They move in together?”

“Uh. Um.”

“Ah, we still have to talk about that. Don’t we, Nicholas?” Henry ran a finger over the outside of my ear, and I shivered in response. “Besides.” He made a show of looking around. “I don’t know where I’d put my fish tanks.”

I knew he was giving me an out, and I mouthed
thank you
. He answered me aloud. “That’s quite all right. I expect we’ll work it out in trade later.”

“Henry!” I was honestly shocked.

“Son, you’d better get control of the genius real quick.”

I swung my gaze from Henry’s unrepentant face to my dad’s. Big Mike had a resigned look on his, but I could have sworn I saw a twinkle in his hazel peepers.

“You’re not kidding.” I’d created a monster.

“You do have that empty room upstairs, Nick. Plenty of room for fish or whatever it is he wants to bring.”

My old man was trying to provoke me; I knew he was. Still, it had the teenagers whispering and Henry running his hand down my back, lingering just above my ass.

“You.” I pointed at Henry. “Knock it off. And you.” I waggled my finger at my dad. “Cut it out. You’re just egging him on.” I took a final sip of coffee, dodging away from the caress inside my jeans. Henry’s touch sent a shiver along my spine. “Okay. If you two kids don’t want to go to school today, I guess it’s all right.” That ship had already launched. Besides, I wasn’t the greatest parent figure. Hadn’t we established that? “You’ve already missed the first class. Anyway, you can come with me to the shop and do your homework. You’d better go check online to see what the assignments are today.” I’d been amazed the first time Grant had shown me that the kids’ homework was available over the Internet. Jeez. “Shawn, you’d better call your mom to check in.” I ignored the groaning from both kids. “I’m going to warm up the car.”

“Bet you’re glad you installed that remote starter, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Dad, I am.” All I could do was shake my head. He was so proud of himself. “I’m so glad you suggested it.”

Fifteen minutes later, breakfast finished and the kitchen straightened up, we all assembled in the mudroom. The kids got their cold weather gear on and gathered their backpacks. I stamped my feet into my Sorels and tugged on my old parka.

Henry eyed it as he buttoned his wool overcoat. He was planning to head to his office, but I was kind of hoping he’d meet me for lunch. “I think I know what to get you for Christmas.”

My dad was watching from the doorway. “Henry, one thing you’re going to have to get used to. He doesn’t do the fashion thing. At all. I think that coat he’s wearing is maybe—” He frowned at me. “Didn’t you get that when you still lived at home?”

“Dad.” I sighed. “Come on. I bought this about eight years ago.” I yanked the zip up to my throat. “What?” Henry had a skeptical look on his mug.

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s just giving me ideas, that’s all.”

“Uncle Nick doesn’t care what he looks like.”

“Great. Another country heard from. Do you guys mind if we actually get going?” I leaned to check my reflection in the window. Sure enough, my hair was doing its own thing.

I jumped when someone knocked on the door right next to where I was standing. The dogs barked from the kitchen and rushed toward us. Lurching to the side, I ducked to look through the door glass and was shocked to see Shawn’s mother staring back at me.

“Who’s that?” My dad was peering over my shoulder.

“It’s my mom.” Shawn spoke from behind us.

“Uh-oh.” Henry’s whisper reached my ear, and we looked at each other.
What now?

“You going to let her in?” My dad poked my shoulder.

“Oh. Yeah.” I yanked the door open, stepping back when a gust of wind blew errant snow inside. “Come on in.”

“Thank you.” She was wrapped in a long, mahogany fur coat and had thick black boots on. The collar of her coat was turned up against the freezing temperature.

“Everything okay?” I watched as she brushed the white stuff off her shoulders.

She raised her head, and I heard a gasp behind me.
Holy shit
. She had one hell of a shiner.

“Mom!” Shawn shoved past me, grabbing her mother. “What happened?”

Mrs. Ginsburg staggered as Shawn’s weight hit her, and I wondered if she was hurt anywhere else.
Fucker
. “Shawn. Let’s get your mom inside, okay? Dad, will you let the dogs out?” I helped her off with the fur. “Grant, take Mrs. Ginsburg’s coat and hang it up.”

“I’ll get a fire going.” That was my Henry, always ready to help. He shrugged off his coat.

“Thanks, babe.” He went ahead, and I escorted Shawn’s mother into the living room. “How about if you sit here?” I pointed to the black leather chair that flanked the limestone fireplace. She was shaking; I could feel it as I helped her sit down.

Shawn was mute, holding her mother’s hand tightly. I shoved the leather ottoman around to the side of the chair so she could sit beside her mom. Grant was following her, fists clenching.

I yanked off my coat and dropped into the other leather chair. Clasping my hands, I propped my elbows on my knees.
Shit
. What in the hell was I supposed to say now?

When I felt Henry’s hand on my neck, rubbing soothingly, I dipped my head back for a second, enjoying the comfort. I met his gaze when he spoke.

“How about if I make some hot cocoa? It’ll just take a couple of minutes.”

Even though we’d just finished breakfast, somehow that sounded good. “Good idea. Thanks.” When I turned back to Shawn’s mother, I caught the woman watching Henry and me. I braced myself. “Go ahead. Say it.”

She bit her lip and gazed at the hand held tightly by her daughter.

Shawn scanned my face, looking for what, I couldn’t tell, before turning toward her mother. “Momma. What happened? Did Daddy—did he—” She began to cry, big tears trickling down her cheeks.

The two of them huddled together, mother and daughter, looking pitiful and tugging at even my heartstrings.
Christ
. I rubbed my hands over my face. Here I’d been worrying she’d say something about Henry and me when she clearly had way bigger things to worry about.

Henry appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Thank Christ.” I whispered it, but he must have been watching me closely, because he moved to stand next to me.

“Cocoa’s almost ready.” He rested one hand on my shoulder.

“Um, Mrs. Ginsburg…”

She raised a tear-streaked face. “It’s…it’s Helen. I’m Helen.” That seemed to be about all she could or would say.

“Okay. Helen. And I’m Nick.” I scratched my jaw. “Do you—do you want to tell us what happened this morning? Are you—do you want to go to the hospital?”
Do you want to call the cops?

“I’d suggest the police.” Did I say Henry was the helpful one?
Not.

“No!” Helen’s reaction was quick. “No police.”

“Mom,
why
won’t you tell the police?” Shawn sat upright on the ottoman. Her glare was muted by her runny nose.

“Henry, grab some Kleenex, okay?” I pointed my index finger at the table where my dad kept a box. “And zip it, will you?” I muttered.

I could tell that offended him by the stick up his ass as he moved around the room handing out tissue.
Swell
. Now I’d have to fix that too.

“Shawn, I know you don’t understand.” Helen’s voice was wobbly. She took a deep breath before continuing. “But it’s taken everything I have in me to come here today. To walk out of that house and come to you.”

“Um. How about the cocoa, Doc?” I jerked my head toward the kitchen.

“Oh. Of course.” Henry disappeared through the doorway, then came out a couple of minutes later with several mugs on a wooden tray.

I hadn’t even known I owned a tray. But based on the cold shoulder I was getting, I didn’t think I should ask him where it had come from.

Helen murmured a thank-you as she accepted a mug. She eyed my dad as he came in with the mutts closely following him. The three of them settled on the sofa, off to my left, and Helen’s gaze tracked him until he was settled.

The poor woman looked awful, even aside from the black eye. She looked, what was the word, drawn.

Just for something to say, I introduced my dad and Henry, then shut up again.

We all sipped our cocoa. I stared at the fire. Henry was quiet; he’d parked himself on the couch at the opposite end from my dad. Even Grant kept his mouth shut, though he was anxiously shifting from foot to foot.

“I know what you probably think.”

I raised my head. “Yeah? What’s that?”

Helen gripped her mug with both hands. “That I should have done something to protect Shawn.”

“You did, Mom.” Shawn had a hand on Helen’s forearm. “You do. I mean—” Shawn bit her lip, looking terribly uncomfortable.

With a sad little chuckle, Helen rubbed the corner of one eye. “I’m not—I’m not even sure why I’m here.” She flicked a glance at Shawn before continuing. “It’s just that— Well, that day? At the school, when Grant”—she craned her head around to nod at Grant—“when he protected Shawn…”

“Go on.” I nodded encouragingly.

“She called me again last night, you know.”

I raised my brows. “Huh? Shawn called you—from here?” My brows lowered while I tried to figure out the significance of that.

“Yes. Yes, she did.” Helen brought one hand up to her mouth, rubbing her index finger along her lips. “I-I got her a cell phone after that episode at school. I—” She lowered her eyes for a moment. “I wasn’t supposed to, but I was worried that—well, if something happened, she might need it.”

Grant lurched forward, looking like he wanted to say something. I discreetly held up one hand, waving him off.

“I called my mom to tell her what happened at the tae kwon do school.”

“Oh, that’s right. You did say something about that last night.” To be truthful, it hadn’t even occurred to me in all the confusion the night before to wonder where Shawn’s parents were. Then when I took Shawn to her house, that whole thing went down with her wanting to come here, and the mother a wreck. God.

So much for me having a handle on things. “God, I’m sorry. I should have made sure we called you, Helen, while we were with the police.”

“No. No, Shawn did call me,” Helen assured me softly. “But she told me only that your friend”—she glanced awkwardly at Henry—“had been attacked. It sounded like he’d been mugged and that you all were just reporting the details to the police.” Now she sent a chiding look at Shawn. “It wasn’t until Shawn was safe here last night that she—well, that she told me what really happened.” With a shuddering sigh, Helen continued. “I was so upset when I found out. Those boys—those awful, horrible boys—were…were lying in wait. They were determined to hurt my daughter because she’s a Jew, because she’s…different from them. And…and Shawn said…Shawn said that they, those boys, went after Henry even more because he’s—because you’re both—”

“We’re gay.” Henry’s voice was flat.

“They’re gay.” My dad spoke at the same time. His tone dared her to make an issue of it.

Have I said how proud I am of the old man?

Nodding rapidly, Helen continued. “Yes. Yes, of course. I mean, um, yes.”

Shawn flashed an apologetic look at me, but I shrugged it off. I wasn’t going to stand for any shit, not when we were in my house, anyway. “Look, Helen. Maybe you don’t like that, maybe you think your daughter isn’t safe with us, maybe she shouldn’t even be friends with Grant.” I did feel kind of bad pressuring her, but I needed to make our position clear.

“Wait! What? No!” Grant almost shouted the last word.

“Grant, take it easy. We need to find out exactly where Mrs. Ginsburg stands.” I waved him toward me. “You sit there next to Gramps, okay?”

He flounced to the sofa, dropping his weight down with the sigh only a teenager could emit. I heard him muttering something, but my dad murmured into his ear, I assumed calming him down.