Who We Are (The Seafare Chronicles 2)

“I’m the funniest person you know,” he reassures me.

“How sad is that?” I sigh.

“Ass,” he says, grinning at me.

Dominic is watching us both with something in his eyes that I can’t quite make out, but then it’s gone, and he takes a deep breath and seems to come to a decision of his own. “Three?”

I nod.

“I’m not a bad person,” he says as he reaches for the door handle,

“although, I understand why you’d want to protect your brother. I just want to protect him too.”

“From what?” I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

He watches me for a moment before saying, “Everything,” and he closes the door, walking out into the rain.

THE meeting with the foster parents goes as well as one would expect if one was asked if he liked little boys. More on that in a minute, trust me.

Tyson looked like he was in a joyous rapture when Dominic showed him the room that he shared with a twelve-year-old boy with a severe case of Asperger’s Syndrome. Dominic’s side of the room was almost bare, the walls empty, a twin bed that looked entirely too small for his massive size pressed up against the wall, covered with a worn quilt and a flat pillow. The room was small and stuffy, but Tyson grinned as he walked in, looking around the room like it was in a mansion, until he faltered a bit and glanced at his friend. “Where’s all your stuff?” he demanded as I started to walk out.

“I don’t have a lot of stuff,” Dominic said quietly. “I’m never in a home for a long time, so I guess I don’t see the point of putting anything up.”

“Well, maybe if you started, you could stay,” the Kid said wisely.

“Maybe,” Dominic said.

I was impressed with how intelligent Dominic seemed, how bright and caring, especially given his history. He’d called his foster parents on the way back to the house to let them know we were coming over, his voice polite, but firm. When we’d arrived, he’d introduced us to Patty and Bert, asking if we wanted anything to drink or eat before taking Tyson to show him his bedroom. I was impressed because I didn’t expect it.

I wish I could say the same for Patty and Bert.

While not outright rude, they were rather reserved. They seemed to be quiet, demure people. I wondered at their reasons for having foster kids in their house, especially since their house almost seemed to be a brief stopping point, if the number of pictures of children on the walls were any indication. What would be the point of getting attached to someone, knowing full well that one day they’d move on? This was a question I didn’t dwell on long, because it seemed to be too close to home for me to want to focus on.

Otter and I kept our hands to ourselves, but you could tell they were expecting more, like we’d skip into the room, holding hands before getting down and fucking right in front of them. Maybe that’s me sounding bitter, I don’t know. But the looks on their faces, not quite disgust, not quite fear, said more than their words ever could. They weren’t short with us, but more clipped and forced. I understood only when Patty mentioned that she’d talked to Georgia, and that Georgia was urging the friendship between Dominic and the Kid. It made me like them just a bit more, because even if they didn’t approve of whatever, they still appeared to have Dominic’s best interest at heart.

“What is it about your brother?” Patty asked me after we heard a rusty chuckle come from Dominic back in the bedroom. “Dominic’s been here for five months, and I think I can count the number of times he’s laughed on one hand.”

“I wish I knew,” I said. “Ty’s… well, he’s Tyson. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

Patty hesitated before asking, “And Dominic told us you’re trying to get custody of him?”

Otter nodded. “Maybe that’s the reason they bonded,” he said. “While the Kid may not have seen the same things Dominic has, he’s still been through a lot.”

“Where’s your parents?” Bert asked bluntly. “You two got the same mom, right?”

I nodded, feeling my jaw tense. “We don’t know where she’s at,” I muttered. “She took off three years ago, and that was that.” That was most certainly not that, but they didn’t need to know. I wanted to meet them, not become best friends forever.

“And you two are…,” Bert said, pointing between the two of us. “You know….”

Otter cocked his head. “Know what?”

“Homos, or whatever.”

“Bert!” Patty exclaimed, her face going pink.

“What?” he said, looking insulted. “We got a right to know.” He turned back to us. “Well?”

“If you’re asking us if we’re together, then yes,” Otter said calmly.