Page 19 of A Quiet Man

"Are you kidding? You're everything I wish I was. You're calm and unruffled and good with people. Everyone likes you, and you don't even have to try. And you always know how to look after my husband, and now my kids prefer you, too. Plus, you're fucking gorgeous. I'm so jealous, I could spit."

Tomas's laugh sounded small and hard. "You can see things that way if you want, but stop talking for a minute and listen to me. You think the kids prefer me? They don't. But they need time and attention. Your choosing to work full-time, and then overtime as well, while you have a bunch of foster kids, is a cop-out. What you're really doing is making Riley take over the majority of the care, and making some of the kids do without when there isn't enough time and energy to go around. These kids have special needs, Justin, even if it's just to know they're not going to be thrown away again when the going gets tough."

He sighed and closed his eyes and breathed out. It hurt to say this, and he knew he was pushing, but it was the truth, and somebody needed to say it out loud. "I've been trying to pitch in, but it's a stopgap. You're not there enough. Maybe it's time to admit that the two of you aren't equipped to take care of that many kids. Send a few of them back. At some point, Justin, you're going to have to choose. Riley will kill himself working too hard before he gives up, but he can't do it alone. Maybe you shouldn't have opened your home and your hearts to so many kids."

His eyes filled with tears as he thought of it, and his mouth quivered a little. He was glad nobody could see him getting so emotional about something that really didn't even involve him. But those kids loved their dads so much. They deserved a good life and a real chance.

He squeezed his hand into a fist. "Riley wants to save the world, and I don't blame him." Riley had been a kid who'd slid through the cracks after his parents died, and he might have died, too, if some gangsters hadn't taken him in. They'd groomed him into being one of their tougher enforcers, and he'd spent years feeling a false sense of loyalty towards them. He'd have moved the world to save other young people from being lost in the system or out of it. "He can't do it all. He just can't, Justin. Me being there helping with homework — well, that's something, but it's not enough, either."

"Uh...yeah." Justin sounded stunned, as though all the wind had been knocked out of his sails. "I don't know what to say."

"Don't. Don't say anything. Think about it, and then you two need to talk. I don't need your apology, especially since it isn't going to change a damned thing. I'm not welcome there because you've set it all up in your head to be a popularity contest. Just think about the real problem here instead, and let me go now, because I'm getting ready for a date and I don't want you ruining it for me."

"A date? But I thought you didn't—"

"Didn't what?" Tomas growled, narrowing his eyes at the man in the mirror till he looked quite fierce. Justin was getting on his very last nerve.

"Nothing. That is, Riley said..."

"What did Riley say about me?" Tomas was appalled and surprisingly hurt to think of his partner telling Justin anything personal or private, something Justin might decide to use against him in the future.

"He said you don't date much. He didn't think you were interested."

His interest or lack thereof was such a sore subject for Tomas right now that he sucked air through his teeth, for a moment struck entirely wordless, angry and hurt. When he did find words, they were rude ones. "You know what? You can go fuck yourself." He hung up, shaking a little with rage that had no outlet. That asshole. Assuming things about him, talking about him behind his back, pumping his guileless husband for all the information he could get so he could laugh about Tomas and feel superior. Tomas pressed a fist against his forehead.Damn it.

It shouldn't matter what Justin thought about him. It wasn't like Justin had his own life figured out, either; he had no room to judge. But it hurt. Why did everything to do with Justin end up hurting, one way or another? He could be so judgmental, so cutting, at least towards Tomas.

Tomas pulled himself together. He wanted to call Riley to ask what he should wear, but he didn't think he could bear to talk to Riley right now. Of course he'd be solicitous, and maybe sorry he'd told Justin anything personal, and he was never unkind, but Tomas really didn't want to talk to him or think about him right now.

He got dressed the best he could without any stylish gay input. Not that Riley was actually stylish, since his clothing taste generally ran to whatever he could get in his size, in colors that didn't clash too strongly, with a preference for dark colors and denim. But he was the closest thing Tomas had to a stylish gay friend, and Tomas had been told more than once that his own sense of style was severely lacking at best, downright painful at worst.

He wasn't feeling very confident after his conversation with Justin. His energy and hope for the day felt sapped, but he perked up a bit at the sight of Auden emerging from his apartment building wearing skinny jeans and a baggy-necked, oversized pink sweatshirt over a tight-fitted tee. The effect was femme, quirky, and very cute. He was wearing chunky sneakers and his eyes were bright, and his soft brown hair was side-parted and combed like a choirboy's. Tomas couldn't help grinning when he saw him. A green plastic bangle on his left wrist somehow completed the vaguely retro, mix-and-match androgynous look.

Auden slid into the car and turned a bright smile on him. "Hi," he said rather breathlessly. From this close, Tomas could see the baggy sweatshirt was legitimately vintage and worn hard: threads dangling off worn-thin cuffs, seams showing, a shirt on its last life. And yet it looked cute and entirely appropriate, exactly right for this date. He looked much better in the softness of the pink shirt and those tight, tight jeans than he ever had in the bland waiter's uniform of black pants, white shirt and crooked nametag. He looked more like himself somehow.

"Hi," Tomas said, and grinned back at him. "You look great."

"Thanks. You too. I mean, you always look great, but today you look..." Auden drew back a little, studying Tomas up and down without embarrassment, and shook his head slowly. "You look like you're dressed to go to the mall with me," he said finally, his little smile unexpectedly rewarding.

"You still didn't bring a coat, I see," Tomas said to cover his embarrassment. "I'll turn the heater up till we get to the mall."

"Thanks. The only coat I have would have ruined the look. What can I say? I'm a slave to fashion." He was obviously speaking ironically — perhaps even quoting something, though Tomas wasn't sure — but it seemed pretty close to the mark. As he spoke, he stuck his hands under his thighs so he was effectively sitting on them, either to keep from making nervous hand movements or because he was cold.

Tomas fiddled with the heater, turning it up. "Not me. I wear a lot of baseball tees." And baggy sweatpants, and jeans his mother said he should have thrown away years ago. And in the summer, nothing was better than a pair of board shorts and a Hawaiian t-shirt. Sure, people made a fuss about colors clashing, but really, if you were physically comfortable, why should that matter? Anyway, he didn't have to look at himself, so why should he care?

Today, however, he cared. And he'd been feeling self-conscious that he wouldn't be good enough for Auden to hang out with.

"So, what's so awful about your coat that you never wear it?"

"I really didn't need it yesterday," Auden said somewhat indignantly. "It was warmer yesterday. And it's not absolutely necessary even today, since we'll be in a heated building."

"It's really awful, then."

"Yes." Auden shuddered. "It's a little too big for me, and it's a really ugly green. It doesn't even have an excuse, like being a cool vintage army jacket. It's just ugly and outdated. But it keeps me warm when I have to walk to work, so..." He shrugged. "I just don't wear it if I don't really have to."

"You have to walk to work?" The diner was quite a ways from his apartment. Tomas tried to calculate how far, got confused with all the streets, and gave it up. Traffic wasn't terrible today, but driving safely still took more of his concentration than he liked. "Aren't there buses?"

"Oh, yes. I take them when I can. But sometimes the buses don't go far enough, or there aren't any at the right time, you know? So, I often have to walk at least part of the way. It's a pain, but, no car." He shrugged philosophically, or at least unwilling to let his hassles ruin the date.