“After you Lot did shit-all for me, I still protected you in that parking lot. I also took care of the Bookie, got rid of those videos, helped out with your money troubles for Logan’s sake, and helped with your parents’ fuck-up by letting Ava stay with me. And now, when I have to take care of the damage all that caused for me, you show up and tell me what I need to do for you next!?” I said while shaking my head, and turned to Mike. “How about YOU start acting like a man, get her home, and take care of her yourself instead of pushing that shit onto me as well.”
“Do you seriously want to tell me that you have no feelings for your mother anymore? Or any of us? Think hard if that’s really what you want. You only get one family.”
“That’s rich, coming from someone who never had any reason to complain about the family he got. You know, believe it or not, but when I sat in my car with Aaron a week ago, we had an actual conversation. Like a real father-son moment. I really felt like things could get better between us, because he sounded so honest when he finally showed some consideration for me. And what did it fucking get me?! Now please let me demonstrate to you what kind of family values I was taught by your daughter.” I said and, as soon as I closed my mouth, turned to walk back into the house, ignoring Mike’s stunned look...
“You don’t get to choose family, Tim.” I wasn’t sure whether he asked me to keep putting up with Aaron, like it was expected of a family member, or if he wanted to point out how he kept trying with me, despite my stubborn misbehavior.
“You DO get to choose if you want one, though. And I got used to not having a family a long time ago.” I called back over my shoulder, and saw Claire slump to her knees and bury her face in her hands.
Re-entering the house, I found the commander and told him to simply call the police if Mike wasn’t gone in a minute. It earned me another angry look, but it was all I could do short of physically removing him and Claire myself. As much as I would probably enjoy that, it would most definitely be cause for my removal from the team. Instead, I returned to Mia’s side, who refrained from outright calling me a Gigolo, though I did hear her comment to a few of her friends about how my ‘
At the end of the evening, Mia had actually managed to make me forget all about that encounter with Mike and Claire, and I found myself once again enjoying her company. While the Millers retreated into their bedrooms to get out of their party clothes, I helped oversee the caterer packing up and leaving the premises. Then I was shown to a guest room while Michael took the night shift.
Christmas Morning started at Five A.M. for me, since Michael’s replacement would arrive an hour later and I needed to get ready before that. So, half an hour after my alarm rang, I joined Michael freshly showered, groomed, and dressed in the kitchen. When I turned on the oven to place my prepared pastries in it, Michael raised an eyebrow at me.
“You’re just gonna start baking in a client’s kitchen? At 5:30 in the morning?”
“Don’t worry. I talked to Mrs. Miller.” I answered.
I had not talked with Nora about using her kitchen, and under different circumstances I wouldn’t dream of doing something like this, but with the rather special relationship I had with this family, I was sure they wouldn’t mind. Especially after tasting what I was making.
Michael and I had just gone over the day’s schedule with the new guy, and consumed our second cup of coffee while letting the pastries cool down a little, when it was time for him to leave. As soon as I closed the front door behind him and the other guy left to check the surveillance system, I heard movement on the first floor and walked back into the kitchen. By now the whole first floor was smelling like cinnamon and roasted almonds. When Nora stepped into the kitchen, wearing a thin morning gown and a big bright smile, she immediately commented on it.
“Hmm, it smells good.” she said with closed eyes, wiggling her nose. “What is it?”
“Swedish Tea Ring.” I answered, placing one of the still warm things on a plate and presenting it to her, together with a cup of coffee. “I hope I didn’t overstep.”
“Oh, heavens no! Do you have any idea how nice it was to wake up to that christmassy smell?” she said, accepted my offering, and thanked me with a quick peck on my lips before taking her first sip of the coffee. “My! This is ... what brand is this?”
“The one in your cabinet. I added a little salt to the grind. Apparently, it reduces something that causes the bitterness and dulls the flavor, but I can’t pronounce it without getting a degree in chemistry.” I chuckled, and she gave me an acknowledging look before studying the pastry.
“Oh. My. GOD! That’s delicious! You made this?” she commented with big eyes after taking a bite, and I nodded. “What is this exactly?”
