Dean sucked in a deep steadying breath as he stood with his gloved hand on the icy cold metal gate. He thought back to the late-night conversation with his father just a few days before. He had admitted to Greg that his mother didn't want him to be a cop.
What he hadn't admitted was that that statement came from more of a vibe than an actual conversation. A conversation that was going to happen today whether his mother liked it or not. He knocked sharply on the door.
"Dean, darling!" Joanne gushed, giving him a less-than-heartfelt hug. "I was so happy to hear from you. It's so wonderful that you've decided to visit us!"
"Hi, Mom," Dean replied, returning the embrace, and ignoring the barbed comment. He'd gotten used to them since he'd gone to live with his father, and, honestly, he hardly even noticed them anymore. He did wonder how "wonderful" Joanne would think his news was.
He found out later that afternoon, when they found themselves sitting alone in the garden.
"Mom, I need to ask your opinion on something," he ventured, nervously running his hand along the arm of the wooden seat he was perched on.
Joanne stopped rocking the garden swing she had reclined in and looked over at her son, surprised. It had been a long time since he had sought her advice on anything. Lately, that seemed to be his job. She refused to give him a name, that man who had betrayed her, tossed aside her love like it was a bag of garbage, and left her with no choice but to flee her home, penniless and starving, and with a small child in tow, no less! Yet, somehow, he had sucked her son back into his life, back into his affections, back into his home. But all was not lost. Dean was seeking her counsel, not his. She would not fail him. "Ask away!" she invited.
"So, here's the thing," Dean blurted. "I'm going to the Academy, but I got in to University as well. So which do you think I should do first?"
"Academy?" Joanne questioned uneasily. Please, no! She pleaded silently. Please, not him, not my son! "What Academy?"
Dean looked her in the eye, and instinctively she knew.
"NO," Joanne said forcefully. "You are not becoming one of those. Not now, not ever. You are going to go to University, first and only. You are going to become a doctor, a teacher, a lawyer, anything but . . . that!" she spat.
Dean leaned forward and took her hands in his. "Yes, Mom, I am. It's not a matter of if, but when. That's what I need some help in figuring out. I talked to Dad and"
Joanne pulled her hands away, interrupting his explanation. She got up and started to pace. She hated it when her son called Greg Parker 'Dad'. Every time he did it it was a slap in the face to Glenn, the man who had been in Dean's life far longer, and had been a far better role model, than that man had been, and therefore should have exerted the greater influence over the boy. "I knew it," she interrupted him. "Of course that man would want you to follow in his footsteps and the sooner the better. He didn't do anything for you as he grew up, so now he's desperate to vindicate his behaviour by brainwashing you into becoming his clone. He gets to think he must have done something right because you want to be like him, and he gets revenge on me by turning you into everything I hate. Well, I will not have it! I will not have you turning into a divorced, violent, irresponsible drunk like him."
Dean listened to his mother's tirade, stupefied. He knew his mother hated his father, and her opinion of him would never change. But he was not his father, and he had to make her see that. "I can't promise I'll never be divorced, I don't think anybody can ever promise that. But the alcoholism and the violence? That I can promise. I lived through it, too, remember?" He met his mother's troubled eyes and smiled sympathetically. "I'm either going to have a marriage like what you and Dad, and by that I mean Glenn, have or none at all. You're just going to have to trust me on that. Alcohol and abuse are not going to a part of my life, ever, and my choice of career will not change that. Not all violent drunks are cops, and not all cops are violent drunks."
"And you are going to be neither." Joanne faced him with her hands on her hips. "You are going to make your decision right now. Me or the Academy. If you step one toe in that place, you will never hear from me again, and all attempts to contact me will be blocked until the day I die. I will not lose another man I love to that profession." She turned and started walking away.
"Mom!" Dean called, running after her and grabbing her by the arm.
Joanne wrenched herself away and kept moving. "Do not touch me," she yelled back at him. "Not until you choose – your mother or your precious Academy. But be warned. You choose them, you lose me. Forever."
Dean sank to the ground in disbelief. It looked like the decision had been made for him.