Page 9 of Snow Blind (The Technicians #14)

T he uncomfortable bed prevented him from sleeping well. Childhood fears of monsters under the bed waiting to eat his toes hindered Mustang from getting a good night's rest with his feet hanging over the edge of the bed. The idea of a little Asian monster dressed like he was going to a sparkling fairy rodeo without horses haunted him. At daybreak, the sun pushing through the heavy curtains wasn't enough to stop the chill coming through the window, but the warmth of his woman at his side made it all feel...cozy.

He stared at the ceiling, going over the bits of information he’d gathered by simply watching. This weekend, he didn't know what he expected to learn, but being here wasn't a fluke. He was here to learn something, what, he wasn't sure. He sure as hell wasn't planning at the end of the trip to become some kid's daddy, but the boy had touched him and made him think.

"Hmm," was all he muttered as he peeled Helen off him and headed to the bathroom.

Having a bathroom in the room with them was a nice touch, and if he needed a few extra minutes to read on his phone, he could do so without a kid needing to brush his teeth or wash his face. The house in itself appeared to have good bones, and he could see that the man Ricky had put in the work.

"Apple and Ricky...," he mumbled, closing the bathroom door.

The smell of coffee cut his reading time short, and he washed his face and hands and brushed his teeth, and after slipping on a pair of loungers and an oversized tee, he headed for the kitchen. The large container, almost restaurant style, of a coffeemaker sat on the counter. He also smelled biscuits and bacon, and there was a container of eggs sitting at the edge of the countertop.

"Oh, good morning. Coffee?" Stephen asked.

"Yes, please," Mustang replied.

The first thing he noticed was the young man wore a pair of chinos with a button-down shirt and no mascara or lip gloss. He wore a simple pair of leather loafers with socks, a black banded watch and no earrings. All of it was intentional to send a message, to whom Mustang was uncertain, but if the kid made the effort, it would be rude to not comment.

"That's a different look," Mustang said. "Very preppy."

“Code switching,” Stephen said. "Yesterday was a special occasion, so I had to go all out. Today, I'm not sure what the plan is, so I have to be the good little Asian kid who looks like a foreign exchange student."

"Funny," Mustang said, watching him pull the tray of biscuits and bacon from the oven. "You like to cook, I see."

"These biscuits will make you want to slap your Mama," Stephen said, "Ms. Helen taught me how to make these. I can't wait to see your face when you try one."

"I know how they taste; I grew up on them," Mustang replied. "Those are my Mama's biscuits. She taught Helen how to make them, and now you know as well."

"Well, I'll be," Stephen said, popping a hot biscuit onto a saucer. "Yeah, I didn't really know I liked to cook until I got here. The places I lived, most only had one skillet and a pot that was used to make spaghetti or hamburger helping kind of meals. Aunt Helen bought these beautiful cookware sets for me, and man, I have not stopped creating yumminess."

"She did?" Mustang asked, noticing the ceramic coated matching cookware sets.

"Yeah, and I told her I wanted to be able to set the table for dinner with actual matching dishes and cloth napkins," Stephen said, smiling. He poured a cup of coffee for Mustang and placed it on the table. "Hon-T, that sister came through not only with the dishes but also the table to put them on and the cabinet to put my dishes away. I love her so much."

"I see."

"You know what else? Last month was my birthday and I turned 16. She sent me 16 scratcher cards and a bill. Two of the cards actually had money on them, so I ended up with like $300 bucks for my birthday," he said. “I'm starting to save to look at going to culinary school.”

"You want to be a chef?"

"Baker, maybe a pastry chef. I wanted to own a salon, provide services from the rooter to the tooter, but who wants to bleach assholes all day or pluck coochie hair with popsicle sticks and wax? Not this queen," Stephen said.

Mustang's eyebrows arched. "Disturbing visual, but I get it."

Jeffrey came down the stairs, and Stephen waved his hand in the air with a greeting. He told Jeffrey he was planning to do a load of laundry so if he had anything, he and the younger boy Oscar needed to bring their clothing downstairs.

"Stephen, it is too early in the morning to be Mother Henning," Jeffrey remarked, acknowledging Mustang. He grabbed a biscuit and a slice of bacon and took a seat. He looked Mustang in the eye. "I was wondering what you'd be like."

"Any reason why?" Mustang said.

Jeffrey spread jam on his biscuit and took a bite. He collected his thoughts. "You ever have a favorite teacher in school, and then one day, you're out and about and see that teacher with her man? After that, you see that joker everywhere, doing shady stuff, then you wonder how a nice lady like that ended up with him?"

"So, you were worried I would be a slag like your teacher's husband?"

"Didn't know, but it's weird. Nice women usually end up with an unemployed jerk who keeps their car all day and picks them up from work late, the tank on E, and Teacher just seems...defeated," Jeffrey said.

"It sounds as if you're speaking from experience."

"Maybe. I've lived in a lot of foster care homes," he said. "There are bad men out there. My girlfriend, her mom has one living with them. He likes to say stuff to my girl, tasteless jabs and jokes just close to crossing the line."

Mustang leaned forward. "How do you feel about that, or how do you plan to approach that situation?"

"I approached it," Jeffrey said. "In front of him, her mother, and my girl, I reminded her that the cell phone in her hand took video as well. All she needed was to hit the record button and show it to a school counselor and things said in the dark can come to light. Mr. Asswipe backed off. Men like that are all cowards, trying to prey and take advantage."

"Well done," Mustang said.

"Aunt Helen taught me and explained that I was a defender," Jeffrey said. "My job in this house is to look out for Stephen and Oscar. I have a car and drive them both to school and bring them home, so none of the school bus bullying crap."

Mustang found the young man to be interesting. He asked, "This is your senior year in high school?"

"Naw, I'm behind a year, so I have one more, then I'm off to the military, travel, see the world," he said. "I worry about Oscar, though. Stephen and I are older, so we know a little about the world. He needs a chance in a household with a mom and dad. A house with two dads is weird to him. Hell, it's weird to me, but they show us nothing, and we see nothing, which is okay, you know, overall. But kids need to see love in action to know it's real."

Mustang was listening. He was also understanding. "Is that why you were curious about me?"

"Aunt Helen gives love so readily to us, even when we didn't know we needed it," he said. "She has to have a well where she's drawing the love from, so I wanted to see how you loved her."

Mustang blinked several times, shocked at the insight and observation of someone so young. "How I love her..."

"The soft touches, the glances across the room, and when she passes by you, you always touch her. You kiss her a lot too," Jeffrey said. "I don't even think you realize how often you kiss on her. She likes it too. I hate to say it, but we like seeing it in action. It makes me feel...hopeful."

"I kiss her a lot. I do?"

"Yeah, each time she stands next to you, you lean down and kiss her. You treat her like she's precious to you, and it's cool; she deserves that," Jeffrey said, polishing off the biscuit. "So, what's the plan today?"

"I just came in for a cup of coffee," Mustang said. "Are there plans for today?"

"Oscar mentioned canoeing. It's November in Wisconsin, I don't know what frozen lake he plans to row a boat on, but he's a kid," Jeffrey said standing. "I need to go get my laundry before Stephen comes back in here flapping his arms like he's about to land a plane. Good chat."

"If you say so," Mustang said, sitting and staring at the coffeepot. "What in the entire hell just happened..."

"Hey," Ricky’s deep voice said, coming in from down the hall. "Stephen made them fairy biscuits again. I swear if he don't stop with all this baking, my ass is gonna be as wide as Texas."

"You don't have to eat them," Mustang said to Ricky.

"And destroy that child's self-esteem? I could never," he said, laughing. "So, what's the plan today?"

Mustang looked the man square in the face. "I'm the guest. Why does everyone keep asking me that?"

"You have a point there, Chief Trooper," Ricky commented, looking at him. He had a thing on his mind, and if he had a word to say to Mustang, he wasn't planning to give the man an out or an in. However, the shared moment was interrupted by the arrival of Apple, who entered the space, changing the entire feel of the kitchen.

"Morning," Apple commented, heading for the coffeepot. "I tell you what...Stephen and these damned biscuits. I have put on at least ten pounds in the past three months."

Again, Mustang seemed confused by two grown men unable to control their eating habits. "You know, you don't have to eat more than one."

Apple turned suddenly, "And ruin that fragile child's mental well-being? I could never!"

The three men sat at the table, enjoying coffee and a new day. Apple had no real plans for the weekend outside of spending time with Helen and getting to know the man in her life. Plus, the kids wanted to see her. A silence lingered between the three as Oscar made his appearance. To the surprise of the group, he went first to Mustang, offering a half-hug, which was returned by his "uncle." He offered a shy good morning to Apple and Ricky and took a seat, his eyes on Mustang.

"So, Uncle Jay, what's the plan for the day?"

Mustang, still confused about why everyone in the home thought he had a plan, was slightly irritated. Instead of allowing it to be shown to the kid, he offered a smile, followed by, "Oscar, can you tell me what you like to do?"

"I like to make stuff," Oscar said. "I have some building blocks and junk, but I need like a desk or a table to build the bigger ones."

Mustang asked, "Would you like to make a desk or a workstation to build on?"

His eyes lit up, "Well, yeah! In my room, I have to build on the floor, so I can't really see how it is all coming together. So, yeah!"

Mustang turned his attention to Ricky. "I assume you have a workshop here. Could you spare some wood or point me in the direction of a home repair store?"

"I have wood, saws, and even a lathe," Ricky said to Mustang.

"Good," Mustang offered. "Mr. Milton, would it be okay for Oscar to show me his room so I can see how much space we have to work with for this workstation?"

Apple waved his hand. A very ecstatic Oscar bounded up the stairs with Mustang in tow. He showed him the meager bedroom space with the bed and dresser, nightstand, and one lone lamp. With the space requirement in mind, Mustang’s stomach growled, requiring more than a cup of coffee and biscuit.

Back in the kitchen, Mustang wanted breakfast and began to crack eggs and mix in cream, milk, and cheese. In the back of the fridge, he found scallions on their last legs, which he added to the mixture. He scrambled the eggs and plated some for himself and Oscar, as well as Helen, who had made an appearance in the kitchen. Mustang pulled out a chair and set the plated breakfast before her, along with a cup of coffee. A smile crossed his lips when he bent to kiss her cheek, thinking of the boy Jeffrey who pointed out this habit of his.

He took a seat at the table with Apple, Oscar, and Ricky. He looked at Helen. "Oscar and I are going to spend a couple of hours in Ricky's shop building him a workstation for his room for his Legos," he told her.

"Okay," she said, "and maybe a chair or a stool to go with it?"

"Depends on the wood and supplies on hand, versus me having to leave to go to a store or cut down branches off a tree," he said.

"Sounds like a plan," Helen replied.

She had nothing more to add, so Mustang completed his breakfast. He washed his dishes before heading to the bedroom to shower and get dressed, returning to get started on the first of his tasks. She watched his strong back as he walked to the barn with Ricky and Oscar to get started on the project, which only took a couple of hours. Mustang taught Oscar how to dovetail ends to connect the desk pieces as Ricky leant a hand with sanding and polishing the wood pieces before applying a thin coat of lacquer to the wood. A quick stool was made, using the lathe to carve legs the right height for the new work desk.

Since he was a kid, Mustang always traveled with a deck of cards. In hotel rooms, or layovers in airports, he would use the cards to play hands of solitaire, or if a bored traveler was interested, a couple of hands of gin rummy. After dinner, he pulled out the deck of cards, drawing the attention of Jeffrey, who knew street games to make a quick buck.

Mustang taught the boys how to play the card game of War, then Crazy Eights, and ending the evening playing Rummy. Pleased with the interaction, Jeffrey wanted to know what his new Uncle was going to teach him on Saturday, as well as Stephen, who had moved closer to sit next to Mustang. It surprised them all, when Stephen sat next to him and Mustang leaned into the boy, shouldering support as he discussed grilling techniques, he would show him on Saturday as well. Oscar came in for a hug to say goodnight, asking Mustang if he would tuck him in.

“And nope,” Mustang said, swatting the boy on the bottom and shooing him towards the stairs.

Ricky nodded his head at Mustang before retiring for the night. Apple, taking a moment, looked at Mustang, he smiled. A thing he didn’t do often which came across as a snarl, making Mustang stare at him mutherfuckingly for nearly ten seconds.

“See you in the morning,” Mustang said, wondering what Saturday would bring.

Oscar couldn't stop grinning on Saturday morning when the desk was moved into his room. He took care to move the blocks from the floor to the desktop. For good measure, on the lathe, Mustang had created a quick lamp to go on the desk. The pride the boy felt in helping to create a piece he would use nearly every day brought him to tears, and he followed Mustang about for the rest of the day.

Saturday morning, to be fair, Mustang spent time with Jeffrey, showing him how to use toothpaste to clean the dull headlights on his car. As they worked, he talked shop about cars, his Mustang Cobra, and traveling.

“This car is not much to look at, but it runs good,” Jeffrey said.

“Apple showed a lot of trust in you getting this for you,” Mustang said. “You’re going to be a good man.”

“I am a good man,” he said. “I just needed a chance to be something more than surviving on the street. I got that. We have that.”

“Good enough,” Mustang said, closing out the project.

In the afternoon, Mustang hung out with Stephen, showing him how to work the grill, smoking techniques, plus how to bar-b-que once, eat for three days to lessen cooking time. He even used dried branches from the sad apple tree in the yard to make chips for smoking meats.

"This is how you get applewood smoked meats like bacon and ham," he said to a very receptive Stephen.

“I was surprised at how nice you are to me, and not trying to get, you know, a little something on the side when she wasn’t looking,” Stephen said. “Those are the kinds of men I know. I haven’t met anyone like you before. I see why she loves you.”

“I can also see why she loves you,” Mustang said. He looked at the boy. When he worked at the summer camps in his youth, Mustang served as a counselor for teen boys, a few, who had yet to embrace their sexuality, unlike Stephen, who was fully invested in who he was and who he was going to be. “It is difficult to discern sometimes the difference between kindness and ulterior motives. I wanted to show that men can provide affection without wanting anything in return. I think you’re an amazing person, and I look forward to seeing the man you grow into.”

“Me?” Stephen said, his hand placed on his non-existent breasts. “You think I’m amazing?”

“Stephen, there is a light inside of you so bright, that I’m sure it scares you sometimes. You can turn it down, but don’t ever let anyone dim it. You’re beautiful, inside and out.”

“Oh my golly, I’m going to cry. Don’t make me cry, you big brute of man, being so nice and caring,” Stephen said, and immediately begin to cry.

Helen and Apple watched from the kitchen window as Mustang embraced the boy, holding him as a father would a son, allowing the emotions to flow without judgement. Ricky walked up, looking out the window as well.

“I want to fight him, but I like him,” he said looking out the window. “Hmmp.”

He said no more and walked away. In Ricky’s workshop, once they finished the project for Oscar, Mustang helped Ricky quickly organize the workspace, making the workflow process more cohesive, and the tools easier to access. For that alone, as well and the wonderfully crafted desk and chair for Oscar, he’d earned the man’s respect.

Finally, in the evening, he sat at the kitchen table with Apple, talking shop on tracking techniques, weaponry, and creating a stash for the house. Apple showed him the caches in the house under the floorboard Helen helped to set up, as well as the window defense systems. Mustang simply nodded, thinking how amazing his Helen was as a person and soon to be Technician. For shits and giggles, Helen timed the three men as they broke down 9mm’s in a race, with Mustang losing once to each man, winning one round himself.

Sunday morning, packed and ready to go, Apple pulled Helen to the side. "I like him. He's a good guy."

Oscar making his last pitch, also pulling Mustang to the side. "Hey, you want a kid?"

"You offering?"

"You ready to be a dad?"

"Not sure yet," Mustang said.

"You know where I am when you're ready," Oscar said. "You'd make a great dad."

"Thanks, Oscar. Take care of yourself," Mustang said, opening the door for Helen to climb in. He had a lot to think about over the drive home, and she gave him the mental space to clear out a few of the ideas. The primary one on his mind was Ricky. "I'm not sure if that Ricky is totally playing for the other team, especially the way he looks at you."

"Doesn't matter."

"Why not?"

"Because I only have eyes, time, and love for you, Big Guy," she replied, making Mustang smile.

His smile continued all the way home. The weekend wasn't a total bust, but as Helen climbed the back stairs, she slipped, falling and injuring her hand. It wouldn't prevent her from working, but the bruise was enough to be a cause of concern.

"I have to renew my insurance; I haven't worked, and the checks I'm getting while in training aren't much," she said. "Do you know anything about the health insurance coverage for the Technicians?"

"As far as I know, each crew has a medical doctor on staff," Mustang added. "Most Technicians are trained field medics and can perform the basics to keep from getting dead, but health care plans would be something you get on your own for regular checkups."

"Well, that sucks."

"I can add you to my insurance on my job," he said.

"How do you plan to do that, as your live-in lover?"

"No," he said, staring her in the eyes. "We go over to the computer, fill out the marriage license application, take it to the courthouse in the morning, find a judge, and make it official. I take the paperwork to the office and add you to my insurance."

Helen stared at him. "In the morning, we go to the courthouse to get married so you can add me to your insurance?"

"Sounds like a plan, then later, we can have the church wedding when you're ready, decide on the honeymoon, and all that good stuff," Mustang said.

"Get married. In the morning."

"Helen, you're going to be my wife. I'm spending the rest of my life with you, and tomorrow, we get the documentation that takes me off of the market to make me yours," he explained. "It's what I want. I want you. I want you as Mrs. Helen Neary to come home to me in this house where we will be a family."

"A family," she said. "I saw Oscar petitioning you to be a member of this family of ours. You did great with him. He really likes you. They all like you. You impressed me by taking time with each of your newfound nephews."

His face showed no amusement. "Helen, are you changing the subject?"

"No, I am just letting you know you impress me. So, yeah, courthouse in the morning before I head out, and I become Helen Neary," she said softly. "I thought you wanted to ask my dad for my hand."

"I will," he said, "but tonight, I want to play house with you, Mrs. Neary."

"You want me to bring out the love potion?"

"Hell, no! I nearly sprained my back the last time with that shit," he said. "Tonight, I just want to be loved by you, nothing more, nothing less. And in the morning, I'm going to marry you."

"Roger that," Helen said, lifting her blouse. She winked at him and took off at a sprint toward the bedroom. Mustang was hot on her trail.