02 - An Awkward Dinner
#2 of The Hitchhiker pt 3
Oh wow, it's been too long since my last chapter! I'm in that time of year where everything needs to be done, but I don't do any of it. It builds up, so I feel worse, which makes me less likely to work, and I spend the time binge watching sci-fi TV shows instead. It doesn't help that all of my teacher friends back in the US are several weeks done with their school years. Oy!
Anyway, I've been plotting this chapter since Craig got the letter from Det. Holcolmbe. But Toby's realization at dinner even surprised me. It is definitely going to require some reworking of where I was going while they're still in town for the winter holidays.
As always, this chapter is not adult, but I rate it as such because of its place in an adult book. (Don't worry, they'll wake up early in the morning...)
Toby Kat
Downtown Cedar City, Utah
I don't think I have ever been so bored in my life as I was watching the lawyers ask Craig the same questions over and over, in different ways. They analyzed the day that I dropped him off in Cedar forwards, backwards, upside down, and inside out. It was all I could do not to fall asleep. Math is not my strong suit, but I think I had actually figured out a way to calculate pi in my head, when I heard the door behind me open. I had scooted to the side so that I was directly in front of Craig where they sat him in the stand, so it wasn't too hard for me to look around and see a pair of older silver foxes enter the room.
I knew instantly who they were; their behavior perfectly matched how Craig had described them several times. Mrs. Azeria was timid, but scowled at her husband as he practically pushed her into a seat in the back of the room. He looked very sure of himself, ordering her about. I instantly disliked him. Turning back to the stand, I looked at Craig. If it were possible, I would have said his fur had gotten paler. He had laid his ears back, and I could see that his eyes had dillated. It wasn't that big a room, but the fact I could see that at this distance, that meant he was thoroughly alarmed. The defense attourney called on the magistrate to recess, and the man nodded his shaggy head and called the session over for the day. Hoo, boy. That gave me no time to get ready for this unexpected confrontation.
I stood up and straightened my shirt, but by time I was moving, the lawyers had surrounded Craig. I maneuvered around them in time to hear the prosecutor ask if he would be OK, so I slipped my paw into his. Craig's ears finally stood back up. "Yeah, I'll be ok," he said. The lawyers left, and suddenly I realized that I was alone with three silver foxes. Even the guy in the sound booth had disappeared. I squeezed Craig's paw, and he held on tight as I gave him my best "you can do this" smile, then he led me to the back of the room.
"Mom, Sir." Mrs. Azeria fixed me with a cold stare. Mr. Azeria saved his glare for his son. "How did you know I was here?"
"You know that I have a few friends on the police," said Mr. Azeria. "Winston told me he saw your name in the Depo list. I got him to ask the guards to look the other way when we arrived. I assume this..." he stopped to look me over, finally... "belongs to you?"
"This is Toby. He's my boyfriend. We live together in an apartment in L-- near his university."
"I see," said Mr. Azeria. Mrs. Azeria looked up at him.
"His family saved my life. They took me to the hospital after the Dawgs attacked me. They took me in while I recovered from the injuries."
"In that case, we owe you a debt of gratitude. We will take you to dinner. There's a restaurant around the corner. Lattimer's. Do you have a tie, boy?"
"I do," I said. I could feel my ears pressing into my head, but I didn't let my face curl into a snarl, and tucked my tail around my leg so it wouldn't lash. "It's at our hotel."
"Then please go get it, and we will see you at Lattimer's in half an hour." He pulled Mrs. Azeria to her feet and they marched out the door.
"Why, yes, we would love to spend an evening under your judgmental glare, thank you," I said to the door as it slammed shut. Craig slumped against me. "Nasty old coot." That got a snort out of him.
"I wonder if there are any Dawgs left at large," Craig said. "If they kill us on our way to the hotel, we won't have to endure this dinner."
"They wouldn't succeed, while I'm with you," I said protectively. "And neither will your father." I grabbed his shoulders and turned him towards me, then planted a kiss on his lips that made his tail stand up. "Let's go get our ties. And then we'll order steak and lobster, and their most expensive white wine."
"I like the way you think," Craig said, as we headed out the door ourselves. I noticed, the door didn't slam when we let it swing back on its own.
* * *
I'm glad I decided to bring ties, just in case. As we entered Lattimer's, the maître'd inspected our clothes. Slacks, a button-down and a tie was the best we had prepared, and I could tell he wasn't impressed. "We're joining the Azeria table," I said.
He scowled, but nodded for us to follow him like he couldn't wait to be rid of us. Nice place. But Mr. Azeria had defeated our plan, as the food was arriving just as we were. Salad and soup. He took us to the fine restaurant, but ordered for us before we could get there. Gotta stay in control. I put Craig next to his mother, then sat next to the old man. It put Craig under his glare, but I thought it would be better to keep him out of his reach. Mrs. Azeria reached out, like she wanted to put her hand on his arm, but stopped. Placing her hands in her lap, she looked down at her plate.
"Well, perhaps your boyfriend would like to bless the food," Mr. Azeria asked Craig.
"I would, thank you," I said, scooping up his paw and Craig's before he could resist. His look of shock was worth it, and I hid my grin by bowing my head to bless the food the way I had seen Michelle do. I rubbed the back of his paw with my thumb as I prayed, and he jerked it away before I had completed the "amen." When we finished, I saw Mrs. Azeria re-evaluating me, though she looked away once she realized I was looking at her. The old man started eating in silence, so we all followed suit.
Mrs. Azeria began to squirm about half way through her meal, then finally turned to Craig. "Your cousins have asked whether you'll come to their house for the holidays this year. They miss you." Mr. Azeria glowered, but said nothing.
"I... don't think so," Craig said, looking at his father. "I probably ought not spend any extra time in town until this is all settled."
"Besides," I interjected, staring the old man in the eyes once I had his attention, "My parents have already asked him to join us. It would be rude to miss out on such a kind invitation."
"For the best," he muttered. I could feel Craig deflating beside me.
"Hector," Mrs. Azeria said.
I couldn't resist, still staring at his father. "Yes, better to go where you're wanted and appreciated."
"My sister's family wants to see him," his mother said.
"But do you?" Now I was angry.
"I--" she started, but Hector spoke over her.
"I DO want my son back." Craig looked up, his eyes full of hope. "But my son is no fairy."
"Hector! You promised!" Protested his mother.
"Francine, I promised I would not call MY son a fairy. Now, we've been over this. We do not raise faggots! If he wants to be my son, he'll be straight. You were in agreement when this all started."
"Sir!" Craig looked up, with tears in his eyes. His mother's eyes were tearing up, too.
"I thought he'd come back to us, by now," she said. "I never thought it would be so long without my baby."
"So this isn't about Craig, at all," I demanded softly. My ears were laid back, and the plant behind me was swaying like a hurricane as my tail lashed it. Mr. Azeria was about to protest, but as I bent the spoon in my paw, he paused. "This is about your pride. YOU don't have a gay son. YOU don't look bad, because of something HE's doing. YOUR friends won't see you and be ashamed. You don't even care what his mother thinks. Well, sir. I can see what YOUR pride did. If he had been allowed in his home, he might not have gotten beaten. If his so-called friends hadn't dumped him on the side of the road, then called their bigot buddies, all this could have been avoided." Then something clicked in my head. "Or was it them who called the Dawgs? Did you do it after you threw him out?"
Mrs. Azeria gasped.
Craig jerked his head up. "What?"
I could see the confession in his eyes. Instead of being shocked, he looked proud. "I'm right, aren't I? They didn't call. You couldn't stand the idea of having a gay son, so you had to bury the truth. YOU called them, didn't you?"
"Hector!"
"Sir?"
"I--"
"He can't even call you 'Dad.' Has he ever? Have you ever loved him, or was this just a way for you to show off your fertility to your skulk buddies? The big, proud man!"
"Toby," Craig said, putting his paw on my arm. I shook it off.
"Can you believe this, Craig? He threw you out and then called the Dawgs, himself. You know, this really changes the trial."
"No," Craig begged, looking back and forth between me and the old man.
"You wouldn't dare," Hector snapped. "You'll never prove it, and the media storm would be a nightmare."
"For whom? Hmm? For Craig? He doesn't live here anymore. Or for you? Are you afraid I'll ruin your life the way you tried to ruin his? Well, guess what? We're happy together. We have a good life together. We have friends, we have a family who appreciates him, and we have each other. You actually helped that happen, because if he hadn't been beaten, he wouldn't have come to live with us last summer. So you know what? We owe you a debt of gratitude, too. And I love Craig, and I won't see you hurt him any further."
"Toby." I felt Craig's paw on my arm again. "You're yelling. And put the spoon down."
I stopped and looked around at him, then at the other people looking at us. Then I looked down at the twisted hunk of metal in my paw. It had once been a pretty heavy silver spoon, not some cheap tin from a diner.
"Craig," I said, taking a deep breath.
"Let's go," he whispered, his eyes pleading.
I stood up. "Thank you for dinner," I said, dropping the spoon on Hector Azeria's plate. "Have a good evening." Then I let Craig pull me out of the restaurant.
The walk back to the hotel was a blur, and by time I regained my senses, we were behind a locked door, and Craig was leaning heavily against it, looking as old as his father in the dim light coming through the window.
I shook my head, then reached out to him. He brushed my paw away. "I'm sorry. I just... he can't... I love you," I finished, lamely.
"I know. You're my white knight. I'm mostly sad that Mom was trying. Dad clearly won't let her. I appreciate what you did. I just need time to think."
"Ok. I'm sorry I lost my temper," I said.
"No, you were right. I can't believe he was the one who called them."
"That makes him an accessory, or something," I said.
"But it will change the trial too much. If my dad takes some of the blame, it falls off of them."
"Point," I said. "Your call."
"Besides, what proof do we have? You saw it in his eyes? Mom will never dare testify against him."
"Craig..."
"What, Babe."
"Does he beat her? Did he beat you?"
"Never with his fists. It was all words. He gaslit us pretty good. Probably still has her mostly under his control. I couldn't beleive she dared to suggest I could come to Aunt Agatha's house. She's probably already paying for it."
"That, or the realization of what he's done might finally free her," I speculated. Craig looked hopeful, but was silent.
I stepped closer and offered a hug. He fell forward into my arms, sobbing. I scooped him up and backed up to the bed, laying down, and held him while he let it all out. By time he was out of tears, he had fallen asleep in my arms, exhausted. I held him and rubbed his back until I, too fell asleep.