Read Hotbox Online

Authors: Delia Delaney

Hotbox (83 page)

Or did he?

I took some time in the bathroom—the shower
alone
was
almost
the size of my bedroom at home
. Then I
found my bag by the closet,
t
hrew some clothes on and stepped into the hall. I paused for a second, trying to remember which way we had come the day before, and ultimately decided to hang a left. When I passed a gigantic plant along the way, I assumed I was heading the right direction, but then I passed another gigantic plant that was the same as the
last, and it threw off my original course
.

“May I
help you find your way, sir?”

Boris had a slight smile on his lips and he was standing in the direction from
where
I just came.

“Uh, yeah. Where am I?”

“You a
re headed to the pool
, sir
. Would you
like to go swimming in your track pants
?”

I laughed
at his dry humor. “Not really, but could you help me find my mom?

“Certainly.
Follow me, sir.”

“Boris, you don’t have to call me ‘sir.


“Yes, sir, I do.”

“No,” I said slowly. “N
ot if I instruct you not to.”

“Well
if you instruct me not to, then I have to comply.”

“Then don’t call me ‘sir.’ I’m not old enough to be a

sir.


He tried to hide a smile. “What is the age requirement for the t
itle of ‘sir’?

I shrugge
d. “I don’t know, but I don’t fit the requirement
.”

“Yes, s—” He
stopped himself
. “Yes.
Very well. Shall I call you Mr. Huntington?

“No.”

We turned a corner and then I was familiar with where we were. The balcony overlooked the main living area that we had been in the previous
day
. We descended the wide, marble staircase that curved toward the grand piano.

Jayden would love that piano
, I thought.

“Call me Ty,

I
said to Boris
.

“I am sorry, sir—uh, I am sorry, but I a
m not allowed to use such an informal address.”

“You will if I tell you to. I’m not a ‘sir’ and I don’t want to be called

mister
,

so if you have to address me, it’s gonna have to be by my first name.”

He wasn’t as good at hiding the smile this time, and I actually saw some teeth.
But as quick as he showed them
they disappeared
, and
he
looked ahead
at Kristof
.

“Good morning, s
ir,” Boris announced. “I have assisted Mr. Huntington in his course. He would like to find his mother.”

“Ah, very well. Thank you
,
Boris.
Good morning, Tyler. Did you sleep well?”

“M
y head hit the pillow and I don’t think I became conscious for fourteen hours.”

He laughed. “So I take it your quarters were comfortable?”

“Uh, yeah, m
y ‘quarters’ were
nice. Uh…where’s my mom?”

“O
utside.
I will take you to
her.”

He motioned w
ith his head to follow. We went past
the grand piano and under the balcony toward
giant
double doors. I wasn’t even sure what doors like that were called,
but they were about twelve feet high.

My mother was sitting at a table on the patio. She had a book in one hand and a strawberry in the other. “Tyler! Good morning!” She stood up
to greet me, paused for just a
second, but
then
gave me a big hug. “How did you sleep? Were you comfortable? Did you have everything you need
ed
? I hope—”

“It was fine,” I smiled. “Very comfortable.”

After she quickly glanced over my appearance
,
she stood there staring at me for several long seconds. I wondered if I was underdressed or something since she was in a long skirt
and a blouse
, and Kristof
was in nice slacks and
a button up shirt. But Kristof
always dressed like that, so I wasn’t sure.

“Please, s
it down and eat,” Kristof
instructed
me
.

“Oh! Yes, honey, sit and eat. I’m sorry.”

My mom
actually pulled out a chair for me
, and then Kristof excused himself and left us alone
.

“Am I dressed too casual?” I asked cautiously.

She
looked surprised. “What? No, why would it matter?”

I shrugged, not wanting to embarrass her, but said, “I don’t know. You kind of looked me over funny. I thought maybe I was supposed to dress up for meals or something.”

She did look embarrassed and I felt really bad.

“I- uh- I’m sorry,” she
stammered
. “It’s just… It’s just so wonderful to have you here and…I guess I can’t stop staring at you. I know it’s rude and—”

“And it’s better that she’s not
pacing
outside of your bedroom anymore,” Trevor said, smiling as he
joined
us.

My mom kind of chuckled uncomfortably when I looked at her, and then she shrugged. “I guess old habits never die. I always did the same thing when you were…uh, when you were little.”

There was an awkward silence for a few
seconds
, and I could tell that she wanted to cry again, but she held it in.

“Your dad worked pretty late sometimes—we didn’t have a lot of money back then
; he worked a second job on occasion
—and it was hard for me to put you to bed and just leave you there. So…I would kind of linger, I guess. I’d stand in the doorway
and watch you sleep, or check on you the second I woke up. Sometimes I’d let you fall asleep near me, and your dad would carry you to your bed when he got home. You were his ‘Little Big Man.’ That’s what he called you.” She seemed reflective somewhat as she slowly shook her head, and the tears fell anyway. “I just don’t understand why
things had to happen like that,
” she whispered softly.

It was a repeat of the day before, and I wondered if things were ever going to make sense to any of us. I loved my dad—he wasn’t there for me growing up, but now he was my best friend, and he
’d turned out to be
a great father.

“I don’t know what he was like when you knew him,” I told her. “But from everything you’ve shared with me, he sounds like the same guy
I know now
.
He just went through
a rough patch—a really
long
rough patch—and
even though my life completely sucked at the time,
I actually think it made m
e a better person
. Same for my Dad, too.
I’m willing to look beyond it; everyone deserves a second cha
nce if they truly want it, and D
ad has pretty much fought from the bottom of the pit with all odds against him.
I’d say he’s definitely paid his penance, although he still continues to do so. I’m not sure if he’ll ever even forgive himself—which really worries me—but I’m thankful that I finally have a relationship with him. It’s more than I ever thought I’d have, and now with you… I have two parents again. It’s kind of unbelievable.”

She waited to make sure I was finished, and then nodded her head as she brushed away her tears. “I know. And I’ll treasure every moment with you. With both of you,” she added, looking at Trevor too. She took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m sorry for all of the emotions. This has been so…overwhelming. And if I stare at you too much, I can’t help it,” she smiled at me.


It’s because
you wear weird clothes,” Trevor
said, most likely to lighten the mood
. My mother gasped but his comment made me laugh. “Come on, are you a jock or something?”

“Trevor—”

“Mom, he’s not offended. It was just a simple observation.”

She still looked a little startled. “What did you call him?”

Trevor and I both laughed. “Ty is very athletic
,
and guys that are into sports are called ‘jocks.


S
he made a face at him
. “I know what a jock is, i
t
just
doesn’t sound very nice.”

“It’s just a stereotype,” I informed her
, just as
Kristof
rejoined us on the patio
. “Trevor would be considered a
spoiled
rich kid.”

My mom smiled, but it was Trevor’s turn to make a face. “Okay, point taken, but I don’t own any clothes like you. I wear whatever is in my closet.” He tugged on the shirt he had on, which was a short-sleeved button-up.

“You don’t like the clothes you have?” my mom asked him.

He shrugged. “Might be nice to own a t-shirt,” he replied, glancing at mine.

“You really want to dress like a sloppy American?” I asked him. “Help yourself to whatever I have.”

“Really?”

I shrugged. “Sure. I think all I have is t-shirts. I don’t think I’d miss it if you kept one. Uh, just don’t take the blue one,” I added quickly. That was one that Jayden bought me.

“Do you always dress like that?” he asked me, nodding at my attire. He grabbed an apple from the table and bit into it.

“Trevor,” my mother warned again.

It made me laugh. “No, not always, but often. I wear jeans a lot. I even have shirts like yours. It just depends on what I’m doing.”

A woman
stepped through the patio doors and
addressed Kristof formally in what I thought might be Russian, but it sounded different. He spoke back to her, she nodded, and then he stood.

“Excuse me. You three enjoy your day,” he smiled.

When he left I asked, “How many languages does he speak?”

My mom smiled. “I’
m not sure. That was Lithuanian. That is where he was born.”

I slowly nodded. “So… Are you guys happy here? With him?”

Neither of them spoke for a moment, but
Trevor
surprised m
e when he said, “He is a pleasant man
. He treats us
very
well.”

“But?” I prompted.

He shrugged. “But nothing.”

My mother sighed. “
Kristof is very good to us,
Tyler, and we would be very content here if… Well,
Trevor wants to live in the United States. That has always been his dream.”

“My dream has always been to live where my
brother
is,” he reminded her. “Now we are away from the Derevenkos and my brother is
here
, so I am happy. Well, until Ty leaves us,” he added.

It sounded like an accusation and I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but my mother interceded and said, “Tyler is an American. That is his home.
He can also be here for as long as he wants.
He, uh…”

She didn’t sound so sure of what she was saying. Was she hoping I wanted to stay with them? How could I? I had Jayden back home, and my dad… But my mother and brother were here, and I had missed nineteen years of my life with them.

“Why can’t you guys come t
o the States?” I asked. “I mean
if all this stuff gets sorted out, you can always come to the U
.
S. I certainly don’t live like this,” I motioned around me, “so you might have some adjusting to do
,
but…”

My mom was shaking her head. “Kristof said it was not a possibility right now.”

“Well, no, maybe not now, but in the future…”

She was shaking her head again.
“He tries to give me hope, but I have a hard time believing that this will all end any time soon.

I didn’t want to admit she was right, but what about me? Could I ever go back to my life before, knowing my mother and brother were halfway around the world? What about Jayden? Did I even have a future with her anymore? I really hated asking myself that question because the
answer I feared
was too difficult for me to accept.

Other books

Mr Mojo by Dylan Jones
Versailles by Kathryn Davis
The Grasshopper Trap by Patrick F. McManus
India's Summer by Thérèse
Fifty Shades of Mr Darcy: A Parody by William Codpiece Thwackery
Bombing Hitler by Hellmut G. Haasis