Friday January 13th
Michael Reinhardt's chest was feeling fine now, but was itching pretty badly in its healing process. They had come out of Alexandra with two tattoos which Michael, at least, did not regret for a single instant. And neither did he regret his father's death. Not for an instant.
But in all the hurry to get to his mother, Tristan had been left behind, and that Michael DID regret. For many instances. In preparing his own place for his mother and he to move from it, he had not had a chance to sit down with Tristan and tell him what the big deal was that weekend.
So he resolved to do it on Friday, after school.
January 13th may not have been his greatest choice, but he hadn't been thinking that it was also Friday the 13th. Once he had, he ignored that and focused on picking Tristan up from school and drop him off at home, talk to him, and make his Irish Stew for them.
Tristan walked out of the school talking with a group of his friends and they all dispersed at the end of the walk to their various rides and walks. He instantly saw Michael, ran to the car, jumped in and started talking a mile a minute "Zan brought his pet snake to class today and fed it a live mouse. Juliana Baker fainted. She's a vegetarian. Mason and I were trying to find more mice for it but it seems like the school is clean. Do you have any mice in the station? It's snake week all week......they just go down like a big lump. You can see the WHOLE mouse!" He clicked his seat belt together.
Michael smiles and listens to all the words, grateful of babysitting his nieces and nephews so that he caught every word. "Yea .. well... vegetarians ..." he shrugs and seems to consider. "Well, no mice in the station. But you might be able to find some up by the lighthouse. Just don't go too far into the woods. he grins. "I kind of like snakes. So that was the most exciting thing today?" he knows Stephanie was not impressed with his last report card and the boy had to pull up some grades. But ... snakes ... who wouldn't get distracted by that?
Tristan thinks "We played dodge ball and David Kapoor's retainer went flying across the gym. Oh and I had a ..." He hesitates "Social Studies test...." He looks down after and gets quiet.
Michael laughs, because the mental image was hilarious. Then Tristan looks down. "And how did you DO on this Social Studies test?" he prompts, although looking down wasn't always a good sign.
Tristan shrugs noncommittally "I dunno...OK I guess. It was mostly multiple choice...." Tristan had known issues with multiple choice. He would get nervous when the answers were too similar and start speed reading and making sloppy mistakes, even when he knew the right answer.
Michael nods and starts the car. "Those can get complicated." he comments as he pulls away from the curb. "But if you remember you have plenty of time, you can get it right. I used to read the question and the options, then the question again and THEN look at my options. But you have to read the ANSWERS more closely than the questions. I would whisper them to myself real quiet." he shrugs. "And in the end, I went to college."
Tristan sulks. It's likely good advice but he's not in the mood to hear it yet. He's pretty sure he flunked the test. "Yeah." is all he offers as he folds his arms and looks out the window.
Michael continues to drive, reading the folded arms in the 10 year old as he reads them in anyone else. It's not a terribly long drive before they are out of town and home. Parking, Michael opens the door. "Home again, home again." he recites.
Tristan hops out and shoulders his pack walking to the door. He looks up at Micheal "Is all your stuff here yet?" He had seemed pretty excited to have Michael living with them when they told him.
Michael smiles. "Yup." he confirms. What he left behind would be for the night he and Stephanie would have there ... when he figured out where to send his mother .. or when she was in Alexandra. "But I may not be sleeping here all the time just yet." he explains. "My mother is going to be living in my place off and on." he hesitates a little bit. "Which is why your mother and I had to leave for Alexandra so suddenly on Saturday..."
Tristan looks at Micheal with big eyes "I know your Dad died. I'm sorry Michael. I didn't say anything because you didn't, but Soba told me." Soba is the Japanese word for grandmother when it's your own grandmother.
Michael nods. He was learning enough Japanese that he caught the word and thanks Steph in his head for teaching it to him. "I know this might sound strange, but .... don't be sorry, Tris. I was ... sort of ... glad. My brother and mother, too." he takes off his shoes and coat and puts them in their place, heading into the living room to sit. What he said would require an explanation no matter WHO he said it to ... unless they'd already met his father.
Tristan kicks off his shoes and roughly shoves his coat on a hanger in a way that will likely fall. He sits down and looks at Michael with total openness "My dad was a bad man. Was you dad a bad man too?" Clearly Tristan had been thinking about his own father dying too, a man he'd never known, who shot nice people and stole.
Michael sits sideways on the couch a little bit, looking at Tristan. He remembers Colin Rankin and nods. "Yea. He was." he says bluntly. "My Dad used to hit all of us. My older brother and even my mother. John ... you met him .. told me when I was about your age that, if I wanted him to stop hitting me, I had to hit HIM back. Fight him ... and WIN. That's what John had to do." he remembers with a sigh.
Tristan frowns "That's not how it's supposed to go." He looks back up at Micheal "Did you win?"
Michael snorts. "First time I tried, I got my ass handed to me big time." he swears without thinking about it. "Pardon my French. No, the first time I tried, I wound up telling the folks at school that I got in a fight with one of the neighborhood kids so no one would know it was my father who beat me. I was afraid if they knew they would call Social Services and I would get taken away from my mother. And I didn't want her alone with my father.. My brother was 22 and not living at home anymore." he pauses and remembers. I was 12 by the time I was big enough to make him realize I meant business. But it wasn't until I was nearly 17 that I won. Then he respected me, he said." he huffs. "I went into college at 18, then the police academy at 19. After that I thought my mother would move out when I did, but she didn't." he was just learning these things himself.
Tristan looks thoughtful during all of this and then just nods and says "Ass in French is technically derrière." He gives Michael a mischievous grin. Like his mother, he was good with languages, and sarcasm. He looks concerned and then asks "Was you mom OK?"
Michael laughs. "Smart ass." which is what he often says to Stephanie. Then he nods. "If you mean after I went to college then yea. He didn't let her go many places without him, so my niece and nephews don't know her very well. My brother couldn't stand him either, and a lot of times when he DID visit Mom the visit got cut short because of things my Dad would say. And I honestly hated my father so much I only saw my mother when my father wasn't around." he sighs a bit. "My dad hated ... everything it seemed. Racist and sexist and just plain mean. He really would have hated your mother and her side of the family." he grins again. "But I think she's alright. She's probably the nicest girl I've ever known besides my mother and niece."
Tristan's eyes twinkle when he's called a smart ass, which he's always felt was an odd sort of compliment. As he listens to Michael speak about the control, and the racism and the unkind nature of his own father his face slides into a troubled expression. He manages a half smile about what Michael says about his mom and then asks "So he would have hated us because we're Japanese?" And hate mom even more because she's a woman? Why did he marry a woman if he thinks they're so bad? Not that it's OK to hate girls, but my teachers and my family say boys can marry boys. Uncle Garrett might marry his boyfriend."
Michael nods. "Yes. My family had a history of hating ... oh almost everyone ... on my father's side." he doesn't delve into the history of Nazism. "Well, he must have fallen in love with my mother. She loved him and didn't know all of this before they got married. And then it was hard for her to get away from him. It was very different for women when my brother was a baby." he smiles. "Yea? I like Ziven." he admits. "I think .... anyone should be able to love anyone. Even if someone who thought they were gay all their life ... if they meet a straight woman and fall in love ... it should be okay." he considers this. "You know, I think I'll stop thinking so much in terms of gay and straight and stuff. Your uncle was straight and now he is with Ziven and happy. So I am happy for him."
Tristan blinks slowly at Michael in utter fascination "Did you like boys before mom?" And then he muses before Michael can answer and adds "Maybe the labels don't make any sense. People just love people."
Michael nods slowly. "I did. And I couldn't tell anyone." he smiles. "Yea. People just love people." he chuckles. "You know .. I liked your mom, but then I decided I liked being with her so much I wanted her to be my pretend girlfriend. And then ... I don't know how it happened, but next thing I knew I was in love with your mother."
Tristan listens intently but finds the last part funny and giggles "That's a pretty good trick.....pretending....."
Michael nods. "I only really did it once, so my father didn't know I was with a man. I went so far as to marry her, but she knew the deal. She was a really great friend, Sara." he blows out a breath. "Oh! I need to cook for you." he stands and heads into the kitchen. "We can talk in there." he goes in and pulls out the lamb chunks and vegetables and other ingredients.
Tristan follows him, making a face "That sounds like playing house. I hate playing house. Rosalee's cousin Lian always wants to play house when I go to the Chen's. I wouldn't mind so much if she wanted me to be the dad but she makes me be the DOG...so I pretend to pee on everything until Rosalee makes us change games. It's different at the Stanley's...the twins like to play assassin. One time we put ketchup on baby Robbie's head when he was sleeping and their mom freaked out. He was our target...a known smuggler too. Can I chop something? Not like an assassin...just like in the kitchen..."
Michael is about to say something when Tristan points out Rosalee wants him to be the DOG. Then he raises his eyebrows. "I swear, those Stanley Twins." he shakes his head and nods. "Alright, here s what I want you to do." he turns the lamb chunks out. "There are always too big. So I want you to take THIS knife and cut it like this." he demonstrates, cutting one piece into three smaller pieces. "Wash your hands first and try not to get blood all over yourself." he figures at his age cutting flesh is bound to be more fun than carrots.
Tristan dutifully washes and then looks eager to cut meat and grins as the blood comes out of it "Cool!!"
Michael watches him out of the corner of his eye. "Don't cut yourself." he reminds him. "Or your Mom will take that knife and slit my throat." he makes a dying gagging noise.
Tristan giggles and then says "No no...like this..." He sets down the knife takes a piece of meat and draws it across his throat and then completely overacts a brutal death scene ending in him splayed horribly on the kitchen floor.
Michael laughs and nods. "Either way. I love her and I don't want her to have my murder on her hands. Man, can you imagine the MESS?" he blinks. "And she'd make YOU mop the floor then ground you!"
Tristan is far too immersed in his own drama and stays down "She can't ground me....I am one with the ground....I am decomposing...." He writhes horribly "Oh the maggots...the maggots!!!"
Michael shakes his head. "Hey! Get up! I'm not getting MY throat slit because you decomposed all over the kitchen." he stands over him. "Come on. If we do't get this cooked, we don't eat and I'm not paying for our dinner."
Tristan eventually does get up and tosses the warm piece of meat he used on his neck right back in the pile. Then he casually yanks up the neck of his t shirt and wipes his neck with it, like it's nothing. Thankfully the shirt is black with a bright green Minecraft Creeper on it. He gets back into chopping.
Michael watches him and laughs to himself. "Man you are SO like me when I was a kid." hes amazed. Then he goes back to chopping the carrots and potatoes.
Tristan smiles a bit at that and then presents the finished board "All done." He looks thoughtfully at Michael "You had a bad dad and I had no dad." He can't articulate the rest at 10 but he's thinking maybe they're supposed to fix that together.
Michael looks at the meat. "Yup .. it's dead." he gets the pot and turns the heat on under it, adding a little oil followed by the meat he quickly dredges in flour. He looked down at Tristan. "Yea ... it's weird. I used to be jealous of you for that. Just a little, because I would have preferred to have no dad just like you did." he looks into the pot stirring the lamb chunks and browning them. He browns the meat and adds plenty of water and then the vegetables. It was an interesting scenario. "But you've had great father figures. Your grandfather and your uncles." he stops short, before he adds himself to the list ... or that he'd love to be on the list. He'd love to be Tristan's father.
Tristan watches over Michael's arm as he cooks and says offhandedly "You...I mean if that's not weird." Then, almost to cover the brevity he asks "Can I teach you Minecraft? "
Michael catches the beat and the words. The stew begins to simmer so he adds a little more water and stirs, replying. "I don't think it's weird at all." he puts a lit on it and turns to him with arched eyebrows. "I'd love to learn." he agrees. "That's where you build stuff, right? Like people?"
Tristan coaches Michael a bit "Mostly you build stuff...buildings and stuff. You can make custom skins and NPCs but I think we'll start with how to move and pick up objects. Eventually I want to make Cedar Point in Minecraft.."
Michael nods. "Yea. Start me out simple." he requests. He cants his head. "All of Cedar Point? Wow. I seriously thought that model of the cop shop was good. I'm getting a case for it." the gift really had touched him.
Tristan looks mildly exasperated but still smiles "That was lego....different kinda blocks. But they do make Minecraft themed lego. It's OK Mike, you'll learn it all." He pats him on the arm, being a bit cheeky.
Michael tries not to look confused. "I hope you have patience." he snaps his fingers and puts on boiling water for egg noodles. "Help to fill you up." he sets the water to boil. "Now ... the Minecraft themed lego thing is .... Lego, right? Yea ... be patient with me."
Tristan giggles now "Forget I said Lego. Lesson one, Minecraft itself. It's a sandbox video game made by this guy in Sweden. On servers he's called Notch. You probably played in a sandbox once or twice right, like a real one?"
Michael points to him as if he's won the lottery. "Sandbox! Yes!" He has, but there is little reason to get into the differences between inner city sandboxes and smaller town ones, never mind computer ones. "Ok, so it was invented by Notch in Sweden. Got it."
Tristan jumps around a bit, excited to be teaching someone about Minecraft. His mother had supported his interest but dismissed ever learning it herself. He spins on his next jump and smashes hard into the stove, the pot of noodles, teetering and tipping forward. Tristan jumps back in time to not take it full on but gets a huge splash of it and a chunk of scalding noodles on his bare foot. He howls at it starts to bubble immediately into a nasty burn.
Michael loves seeing him excited. It was worth learning if he could see the kid that excited. Then Tristan hits the stove and the noodles fall. Michael is at his side in an instant looking at it. "Shit." he doesn't get on the kid for having an accident. He goes in his back pocket for his phone and sends a quick text to Vaughn Baker. "Not 911 but I got a burn here." he adds Steph's address and sends it. He knows Vaughn has the day off, which is good. It doesn't look bad to him, but hes a cop not an EMT and this isn't just any foot.
Vaughn has just finished grocery shopping after work and sees the text as he gets back in his pick up truck. He always has a kit in the truck so he texts back "BRT." and starts driving in that direction.
Tristan goes from howling to uncontrollable crying, curling his body around his foot and rocking slightly.
Michael didn't see the text. His phone is back in his pocket and he is leaning over Tristan, employing his professional calm the child voice. "Let me take a look at it, Tristan, alright?" he asks as if it's not such a big deal.
Tristan stretches out his leg and shows Michael, his cries still happening but calming slightly with the support.
Michael looks at it and wonders if he is looking through a panicked parents eyes because it looks awfully red to him. "I don't think its so bad.' he reports. "Let me unlock the door. I called a friend of mine over to help with this.'
Vaughn is driving up the street counting the numbers up to Steph's house as he scans.
Tristan grips Michael's hand "Don't go...it hurts!!!! Miiiiiiiike...don't go!"
Michael would comfort the child and then leave it ... were it any other child almost. Tristan he scoops up into his arms. "I won't, buddy. We'll do it together, okay?" and he goes to unlock the door, moving to the couch and laying Tristan on ht carefully. holding his hand if that doesn't hit him too much.
Vaughn pulls into the driveway and kills the engine on his truck. He knows Michael would likely just unlock the door since their both first responders so he tries it and it opens. "Hello?" He calls out "It's Vaughn..." He steps forward on the doormat and he can see Tristan's legs sticking out on the couch. He toes out of his hiking boots and steps into the room where Michael is comforting Tristan. He smiles at the kid and focuses on him, knowing him a little through his friendship with his daughter Julianna "Tristan....buddy, let me see this foot of yours eh?" He sits down by it and starts to examine it.
Tristan sniffs, trying to look braver than he feels "Hi Mr. Baker. Is it really bad?"
Vaughn grins "Nah. Let's clean it up and give you some ointment. First, you probably want some painkillers. Michael, he's big enough to have an adult dose of Advil for something like this." He pulls the bottle from his kit and then gets up and walks to the kitchen."Glasses are...?" He starts opening cupboards "Oh never mind, here. Stew smells good." He steps over the noodles on the floor and returns with a glass of water handing it towards Tristan.
Michael hears Vaughn before he comes in and immediately stands and gets out of the way so Vaughn can work, looking relieved. He smiles at Tristan. "See, told ya." he is about to tell Vaughn where the glasses are when he finds them and mentions the stew and Michael starts. "Fuck, our dinner!" he moves into the kitchen and turns the fire off, looking in with a raised eyebrow. He comes back out, looking a bit relieved and watching Tristan. He moves closer to Vaughn. "Thanks man." he says softly. "I know I probably panicked but ... you know .. wanted to be sure .." he knows he's cost money for something he really could have dealt with at home ... sort of ... he DID call an off duty first responder. Like Vaughn may have called him if he'd seen a suspicious person around his daughter. Or .. he really had panicked in the face of actual parental responsibility.
Vaughn gives the painkillers, treats Tristan's foot and covers the burn with dressing and tapes it "We don't need to amputate..." He teases and pat's Tristan on the knee as he gets up. He walks towards Micheal and leans in towards him "Don't tell Mom?" He says with a smirk and smacks him on the back as he moves to the door.
Tristan actually laughs about the amputate comment which shows he's calming down. He sits up on the couch as Vaughn moves to the door and clicks on the TV finding the right remote to watch YouTube and some Minecraft videos.
Michael watches the final interaction, including Tristan turning on the television and nods. "Amen." he murmurs in a whisper to Vaughn's comment about not telling Mom. Vaughn heads for the door and Michael follows, calling over his shoulder. "Be right back, Tristan. Just waling Vaughn to his car." he slips into his coat and shoes and opens the door, nodding Vaughn out. Once the door is closed again he blows out a breath. "Yea. Don't tell Steph, don't tell my family. Don't tell anyone." he gives a relieved chuckle and sigh. "I'll never live it down." he pauses just outside the door.
Vaughn laughs "You'll get the hang of it Reinhardt. I have three of em....First one swallows a quarter you run to emergency, second one does it...you wait for them to shit it out, third kid, you just deduct it from their allowance right?" He opens the door and tosses in the bag and then leans his arm on the truck casually "Gotta say, din't picture you as a dad when I met you. No offence man.."
Michael snorts. "Well, yea. Mt brother is 12 years older than I am, so i babysat for all of his. Plus his wife is a nurse PLUS I'm a cop. I can handle most burns all by my damn self. SO .... yea." he chuckles. "Honestly ... neither did I? But I guess ... I found my Kryptonite, yanno?" he pauses.rubbing his hands. "How ARE yours doing?" he asks. "And what's been up, man? I been a little .. self absorbed. And Yamada is in full on 'India's gonna pop any second so no one is healthy enough' mode. The man damn near ringed me in disinfectant. No proof but I think he sprayed my apartment door." he snorts.
Vaughn cracks up "I could see Yamada doing that. Man. Well my kids all got that cold but they're on the mend. Last year Coral asked Charlene and I if we would homeschool her since she met a friend at riding camp who does it. So we're trying that. So far Dean and Jules still like school at school. It's a good fit for Coral and Char though. She's old enough to help with the business and does her work in between. I think we just can't take her out of the country is all."
Michael nods. "Does your Coral know a girl named Sasha Williams?" he asks. "She's homeschooled. From the States, and trust me, even though I never asked, she probably never saw a horse without a cop on top of it and asphalt beneath. And with HER mother working, I bet she wouldn't have a problem with her kid having a friend in the country." he blows out a breath. "I can't imagine homeschooling. Then again I'm still in failure mode. I hardly got my shit moved in and I'm trying to convince myself Steph isn't gonna throw me out when she gets home. And my Mom is gonna be in my place soon."
Vaughn shakes his head "I don't think she does, Coral likes horses better than people. Char's been trying to make her go out to some field trips and events for homeschool kids in Vancouver through this online group they joined but I think Char likes em better than Coral." He laughs. "Maybe Char could offer this kid a riding lesson and see if Coral can break out of her shell. And you're not failing...failing would be ditching on the kid right? But don't be a helicopter parent either. He'll be fine. So will you. So you're movin here and your mom is moving into your apartment? Hmmm..."
Michael nods. "I'll talk to Sasha's mom about it." he promises. "Yea ... I didn't bail. And I don't like hovering over anyone." he chuckles. "Yea. My mom is sharing time between here and Alexandra. My father died, so she's finally free. Steph wanted me to move in. I wanted to move in. My mom thinks she is homeless so ... she can take over my place. Win, win, win ... that first win being my dead father." no remorse. Not an ounce.
Vaughn looks at Michael, trying to figure this out. He had lost his family to a fire many years ago and it was absolute devastation, but that was not at all what he was hearing and seeing here. "I'd offer condolences but...you don't seem to need that......So yeah...." He runs his hand over his short beard looking a little curious about it all.
Micheal sees the confusion. He's getting used to that look when he shows no sorrow in his fathers death. "My dad was abusive." he explains. "My brother and ma and mom if she interfered." he sighs. "She made it easy on herself by telling him I would arrest him once I left home ... I'd prolly have shot him, but it worked so she could stay with him. She seems terrified of being a burden. That has to come from Dad ... " he tenses, the memory still bothering him. "She's coming up next weekend after my nieces birthday ... another thing she missed because of my father." he pauses. "Very different to your family, man." he remembers Vaughn's history.
Vaughn's mouth forms a puckered O and he inhales audibly during the telling of all that. When Micheal is finished he exhales into one word "Shhhhiiiit." His hand moves from his beard to the back of his neck, rubbing it absently.
He was aware that Michael knew about his parents, sister and niece. The whole town did. The famous Baker fire. He'd also seen Michael at the cemetery many times. There was a grave a few rows over from the Baker plots that his friend seemed to visit frequently. Vaughn had never pried for details and had always been distracted by his own cocoon of sorrow.
Michael sighs and shrugs. "Life, right?" he considers. "But my mom will be around, but we can still use my place for workouts. She's an Irish Catholic mother, which means we need to work out harder to counter her idea of healthy snacks. Carrot cake and cookies and zucchini bread."
Vaughn snorts "Carb busters time. Does your mom work out?" He teases "Speaking of which...I should take off soon. Char texted me a huge grocery list and it's all in the cab here. I need to get them home so we can feed the tweens and teen."
Michael laughs. "She used to haul groceries home ... oh wait that's what she had me for. SO no ... mo one sees my mother in spandex." he claps Vaughn on the back. "Thanks for stopping by, man. I'll try and handle it on my own next time. And mums the word, eh?"
Vaughn starts walking to the driver's side door "Mum in deed. I'd rather see your mum in spandex than your sorry ass Reinhardt. Later man."
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