The second dinner goes better than the first. His mom texts before coming over and everythingās as clean as it always is and thereās no evidence of what him and Ilya are doing all over the cottage. He cooks and Mom manages about five minutes of sitting on the sidelines before sheās budging into the kitchen with him, tasting and setting out spices and washing dishes as he finishes with them even if heās going to use it again in five minutes.
Theyāre all talking about hockey, a nice safe topic that all of them can go on about until possibly the end of time, but he feels Ilyaās eyes on him and wonders what heās thinking about, if heās categorizing the differences and what he thinks about them. He doesnāt like people getting in his way while he cooks and Ilya limits himself to being annoying or affectionate, or both, but doesnāt try and help after Shane made it clear he didnāt want him to. But it doesnāt bother him when Mom does it. She knows how to do it right.
Theyāve finished eating and Ilya has poured them drinks and Shane thinks that everything is fine, but then Mom squeezes Dadās shoulder and tells him she just has to check something and steps outside.
Shane gives it two minutes of trying to pay attention to what his father and Ilya are talking about, but his face is hot and his throat is tight and he knows his mother. He pushes his chair back and walks outside, waving vaguely when Ilya says his name.
Mom is standing next to the unlit fire pit, arms crossed and gaze distant. Itās not cold, but he pulls off his flannel and drapes it over her shoulders. She startles, then smiles and tugs it closer around her. He has so many memories of being a little kid coming off the ice and shivering into her waiting arms. Sheād take off her jacket and bundle him into it, her warmth seeping into him even as goosebumps raised on her skin.
āMom,ā he starts then doesnāt know what else to say. If there is anything else to say.
āDo you like your brand deals?ā she asks.
He lets out a breath thatās something between a sigh and a laugh. āWhat?ā
āIf you donāt, we can change them,ā she continues. āOr get new ones, or just drop them. I know we keep a busy press schedule and that, I mean, I can reduce it. And ā and you donāt have to deal with them, if you donāt want to, or you can, if you do. Whatever you want.ā
Her voice is tight like sheās going to cry and he feels out of his depth, confused and fumbling, which he doesnāt like. Heās used to knowing exactly what sheās thinking. āMom. Whatās this about? The sponsors are fine, the press is fine.ā
She nods, but sheās not looking at him. She breaths in deeply, then again, and once he counts the third breath, she opens her mouth to speak, just like he knew she would. āI know you want to be a good son. And you are,ā she says quickly when he flinches, raising a hand to cup his cheek. He leans into it. Heās never done anything else. āYou are a good son. Youāre the best son. I love you so much and Iām so proud of you and I wouldnāt change you for the world. You are the most perfect son I could ask for, alright?ā He nods, trying to keep his jaw from trembling, knowing that she can feel it. āBut I want to be a good mom too.ā
āYou are,ā he says, panic and guilt hot in his stomach. What did he do to make her think she wasnāt? āYou are a good mom.ā
He learned to cook peering around his motherās waist, by grabbing the spices she asked for and licking the spoon sheād hold to his lips and listening to her explain pan searing and roux and simmering as he washed each dish sheād hand him. He wants the people he loves to come to him shivering and know heāll keep them warm. He learned that from her too.
āI didnāt know this big thing about you, and I know you said you forgive me for making you feel like you couldnāt tell me, but I worry. I know Iām hard on you, but am I too hard? Do I manage you too much? Youād tell me if I was doing things in a way you wouldnāt like, wouldnāt you? Because you can. Iām great with constructive feedback.ā She rubs her thumb against his cheek. āIāll be better.ā
He recognizes the look on her face from looking in the mirror, from every time he fucked up at practice or a game or made the crew work late during a photoshoot or messed up some social interaction he just couldnāt figure out how to navigate. Determination and guilt and pain that heās never been able to explain to anyone else, but with his mom heās never had to.
Maybe not everything heās learned from her is a good thing. But thereās so much more good than bad.
āThis, Ilya and all of it, itās the only secret Iāve ever kept from you,ā he say. āItās okay. I forgive you.ā He doesnāt feel like thereās that much to forgive. Heād told Ilya that his parents would be okay with him being gay, and heād known that, he had, heād just been scared. But he knows Mom wonāt accept him taking the blame for this, so he doesnāt try. āYou are a good mom, and a good manager, and I would tell you if I wanted something different, but I donāt. You are exactly the mom I want. Not different, not better.ā
She nods, blinking, says, āOkay,ā and pulls him into her.
He drops his head on her shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. She rubs a hand up and down his back and counts each of his shaky breaths out loud until they steady, until he can pull himself together, but he keeps his arms around her even after that. Because he loves her, and sheās his mom, and she loves him.
Ilya frowns as he looks out the window, seeing Shane curl into his mother in a way that makes him feel warmth and worry and longing all in one. He bites the inside of his cheek then asks David, āThis happens often?ā
Heās watching them too and his lips twitch into a smile before he shrugs. āYes and no. Theyāre not often out of step. It upsets them both when they are.ā He glances towards Ilya, visibly hesitating before saying, āYuna was up most of the night.ā
āMaking plans and thinking too much,ā he nods. āLike Shane.ā
Davidās smile widens. āAh, youāre familiar with the process?ā
āHe woke me up at four in morning talking of Ottowa,ā he says. āI was not thinking in English yet. Very confusing.ā
āYouāre really okay with this plan of his?ā he asks. āThis has Shaneās thinking all of over it. Ottowa isnāt exactly a great team.ā
āYes.ā He does not understand their confusion with this. Hockey is good. Shane is better. āIs a good plan. Why argue?ā
Well, arguing a little about the specifics because riling Shane up is one of his favorite past times, but in general itās a solid plan. It means he gets to keep Shane.
Davidās sudden burst of laughter surprises him, but heās grinning when he clinks his glass against Ilyaās. āSon, youāve unlocked the secret to a happy marriage.ā
Itās a joke, clearly, but itās a good thing Russians donāt blush. The heat in his face is something else, of course.
He makes sure his smile is perfectly innocent when Shane and Yuna come back inside. By Shaneās narrowed eyes, he doesnāt buy it, but Shaneās interrogation will have to wait until his parents are gone. And well out of hearing range.
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