By the time Jeff crawled into bed, he found Audrey quite engaged in her phone...again. She wore a small smile as her vision shifted to the distance, as if in thought of something, consideration.
"Aud?"
"Huh, what?" She placed her phone on the nightstand quickly upon realizing Jeff was next to her, feigning a yawn. "Sooo tired. G'night, honey." She leaned over, granting him a quick kiss before laying down to sleep.
Jeff stared at her for a long while before placing his head upon the pillow, thinking a million jumbled thoughts. She definitely had something to hide.
Jeff had skipped the salad and gone straight for a burger and fries, but he was still eating slowly. He was severely sleep deprived, having spent the majority of the last couple nights staring at his wife as she slept. Thinking. Wondering. His stomach churned now at the thought of Audrey with another man. Barry...who the hell was Barry? Probably some little guy. Ugly. Frail. Weak muscle tone.
He'd kill the punk.
Russell walked past, grabbing a handful of fries from Jeff's plate.
"Hey, what the hell?"
"You owed me," spoke Russell through a full mouth.
Russell and Timmy slipped into the other side of the booth and Jeff found himself a strange combination of annoyed and thankful for the temporary distraction.
"Well," Jeff quipped, "what do we have here? If it isn't Gaydalf and Dumbledork."
Russell scoffed and laughed at Jeff mockingly with a shake of his head. "Uhm, excuse me, different universes? And Gandalf knew some KICKASS magical stuff, thank you very much. Plus have you SEEN the size of his staff? I mean..." He rose a brow suggestively. "No complaints."
It took Timmy a moment to realize that both Jeff and Russell had taken to looking at him in response to Russell's claim; he sputtered a moment, reached for a cup of coffee he didn't have, and then aimed across to Jeff's plate, snatching several fries and shoving them in his mouth in desperation.
"You guys touch one more fry, and I'll snap you both in half like one."
Timmy chewed a bit slower, and swallowed painfully.
"So...anyway..." began Russell, but he was promptly distracted by the sound of Timmy's text notification.
It had been going off all morning, and Timmy grabbed his phone again, quickly, scanning the screen and chuckling to himself lightly now as his fingers tapped a quick reply. As he brought the phone down he looked to Russell very slowly. "...What?"
"Okay, what's going on?"
"Oh, this? It's nothing, really. Needn't concern yourself."
"Huh." Jeff leaned towards Russell and Timmy curiously. "That's what Audrey keeps saying..."
Russell and Jeff met in a silent stare, Russell trying to decipher just what it was Jeff was attempting to communicate, their faces both growing distant and contemplative. It wasn't long after that Timmy's phone rang, pulling Russell from the uncomfortable silent tête-à-tête with Jeff.
"Yes, hello!" Timmy greeted his caller cheerfully, but as he listened, his demeanor grew tense. "Yes...yes, I see. Tonight? Well, I don't...I don't know." He looked to Jeff and Russell, standing from the table as he addressed them: "Excuse me just a moment," and he dashed off in the direction of the restrooms to converse in private.
Jeff saw a look of concern flood Russell's face as he watched Timmy leave. Part of him was strangely grateful to be sharing the table with Russell right now; he couldn't quite place his finger on why. Maybe he was thankful to be around somebody whose life seemed just a little screwier than his. Well, more than a little.
"So, did you take care of your little, uh, parental problem?"
"Oh." Russell turned back towards Jeff, tapping the table nervously. "Well, my dad thinks I'm married to a woman named Kimmy and my mom wants to send us on a honeymoon to Jamaica, so...yeah, I guess."
"You guys are weird, you know that?"
"Well, what about you, ever figure out why Audrey was turning into Betty Crocker?"
Jeff still wasn't inclined to opening up to Russell, but something funny was happening. He realized in this moment, sitting in his usual spot in the diner, weary, body aching with anxiety...that he had nobody else. Well, at least nobody he could really open up to about stuff like this. He had Russell, and he had Adam...who was probably busy pummeling Jen, trying to accidentally make a mythical hybrid baby. He really should work on expanding his horizons, but right now...
"Okay, here's the deal. I think she's, uh..." He paused, muttering in thought. "Hey, how did Timmy act?"
"Whattaya mean?"
"When he was screwing around on ya?"
"What?"
"With his, uh, his ex, wasn't he...?"
"No, it wasn't like that! He wasn't sneaking around! I was the one sneaking around, he pulled that crap right in front of me!"
"Wait, what?"
"What? Nothing, what were we talking about...? Oh...you think Audrey's having an affair?!"
Choosing to ignore Russell's confusing little outburst, Jeff aimed to continue detailing his dilemma. "I don't know, I mean..." Russell looked a little too interested. "No. I really shouldn't jump to conclusions, Audrey's a good wife, we've got a great marriage. Forget I mentioned it."
"No no no, listen, I happen to have rather extensive experience in this area."
"Being cheated on?"
"Uh...sure, let's go with that. Now listen, here's how you know a woman's messing around on you. And by the time she ends up with a guy like..." He had gestured to himself, but paused now, looking around to recover. "A, uh, a guy of rather questionable morals, shall we say...you have to assume that ya done screwed up in a, uh-pretty big way, fella."
"Well, what'd I do?! I didn't do anything!"
"Can't help you there, buddy, but is she giving you all the tell-tale signs?"
"Come on, what signs?"
"Acting funny, doing weird stuff with no reasonable explanation?"
Jeff sighed out in frustration; he couldn't take much more of this. But then, something clicked in his mind. He grew pensive as the pieces seemed to fall into place. "Uh...brownies. Dozens...dozens of brownies."
"Dozens of guilt brownies. She's got a guilty conscience, she's compensating with chocolate. Classic move."
"What...?"
"She's getting mysterious texts, phone calls, she hide her phone from you?"
Jeff slapped a hand down on the table. "Ohh, my gosh! That's all she's been doing, it's driving me crazy!"
"Yeah?! Hides her phone from ya when she gets text messages, says 'ohh, honey, don't worry about it, no big deal,' find excuses to leave the room and take secret phone calls from her secret lover?!"
"Like Timmy was just doing?"
"Yeah, like Timmy was just-!" Russell froze, eyes glazing over. His voice went very small. "No, not like...not..." He sat in silent consideration for far too long.
Jeff took the initiative of speaking up again, breaking Russell from his trance. "I've been checking her phone."
This was enough to distract Russell temporarily, though fresh worries lingered in the back of his brain; he leaned forward towards Jeff like a child who'd just been offered a piece of candy. "Whoooa. You're spying on her?"
"I shouldn't have done it, I feel terrible...I shouldn't betray Audrey's trust like this."
"You totally should! This is great, this is wonderful!"
"Yeah, I don't think you're the right person to talk to about this, so..." Jeff prepared to stand, but Russell quickly shot him down.
"No, sir! You've come to precisely the right person! What was on the phone, sir?!"
Jeff was quite certain he should no longer be talking to Russell about any of this; Russell, whose hands were clenched in taught fists which he pounded firm against the table, his teeth gritted in determination as though they were about to go to war.
So whatever compelled Jeff to provide Russell with the following bit of information must have been nothing but a streak of sheer stupidity: "He sent her an address."
"He sent her an address?! And you're wasting time sitting here, why aren't you over there defending your territory?!"
"I thought about going over there, you know, just to scope the place out, see what it is I'm dealing with? Duplex...seedy motel. But...that's not enough to go on, I mean, what if I'm all wrong about this?"
"Gotta trust your gut on this."
"But it's happened before, you know, weird misunderstandings...comical...hijinks..." His voice trailed off into a sigh, as if he was trying to convince himself.
"This isn't some wacky weekly sitcom! Read the signs, man, she's halfway out the door, and you're gonna lay there and take it?!"
Jeff's brow furrowed in thought, the lines of his face all growing more and more tense. Russell took this as a positive sign; he was coming around to his side, he was taking this seriously. As well he should, this was serious business. Finally Jeff leaned forward, speaking confidentially.
"You know what's really weird? This morning, I caught her on the phone, and she pulled that whole thing again, the whole 'it's nothing, don't worry about it,' thing, and she went to leave the room, but she hesitated...like maybe she had something to tell me, like she was hiding something..."
"Uh-huh, of course she did."
"But all she did was come back and she kissed me and told me she loved me."
Russell clapped and made a grand gesture with his hands. "Nng, that's it, that's the one, right there! Sure sign of guilt, it's tearing her up inside, man, she has to pull out the romantic gesture because it soothes her guilty conscience!"
Jeff leaned back in the booth, eyeing Russell suspiciously. "Listen, why the hell do you care so much, what is this?"
Russell gave a shrug. "I don't know, it's the least I can do. We're friends, aren't we?"
"No," said Jeff with a shake of his head.
Russell frowned a little. "Fine, whatever, I'm a romantic, I don't like seeing a beautiful marriage on the rocks, so shoot me."
"Since when the hell are you a romantic?"
"Since when am I not a romantic? Come on!"
Jeff stared at Russell, jaw agape, trying to pin down what was happening. No...no, it wasn't coming to him. The guy just kept getting loonier and loonier, and there was no reasonable explanation for-
"So sorry I ran off in such a hurry..." Timmy walked back towards the table sounding a touch distraught, making great effort to appear pleasant in the presence of the other men.
Jeff cocked his head in Timmy's direction, then back to Russell. Oh, yeah. Couple of Loony Tunes, right there.
Russell's crazed demeanor with Jeff moments earlier broke in Timmy's presence; he was surprisingly soft. "What was the call about, Tim?"
"Oh, nothing, it was...it was nothing."
Russell felt a knot begin to form in his stomach.
"I'm going to go home, Russell, I...I suddenly feel a bit ill, I need to think."
"Yeah...yeah, okay. Take care of yourself."
Timmy turned to Jeff with a small nod, which Jeff returned before Timmy turned to walk away; but he turned back in careful consideration. He looked dreadfully burdened, but dared not discuss it; not here, not now.
He slipped back in beside Russell and reached for his hand, gripping it perhaps just a bit too hard. And then, quite unexpectedly, a decidedly unusual gesture on Timmy's part, he kissed Russell quickly on the cheek and spoke a soft: "I love you," before slipping out of the booth and walking swiftly away. Russell watched him go, breath caught. What was that...?
Jeff turned to Russell, clearing his throat. "What was it you said about getting mysterious phone calls and making excuses to leave? And the, uh, the guilty conscience and-"
Russell narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "Don't."
"Just saying."
Jeff had double and triple-checked the address. This couldn't be the place, could it? Russell seemed less phased, having marched straight up the steps of the building in question, leading Jeff into the elevator with a casual whistle. Jeff looked to the address one last time, pushing a button and setting the elevator in motion.
"Why would they be meeting in an office building?"
Russell shook his head with a slight chuckle. "You really are an amateur."
Jeff sighed gruffly in irritation. "Why are you even here?"
"I paid for the cab."
"You jumped in the damn cab, I didn't think you'd actually get in the cab with me!" Jeff watched Russell shrug him off and he did his best to overlook the elf who'd infiltrated this little undercover investigation with him before reiterating his earlier point, speaking mostly to himself: "Seriously, who has an affair in the middle of an office building?"
"Pft! Such an amateur!"
"At not-so-clandestine affairs? Yes. Yes, I am, and you know what, you're a married man now, you shouldn't be so proud of yourself for being such an expert in this area. What if Timmy was here right now?"
Russell paused a moment in thought, nearly letting the magnitude of Jeff's words sink in; something was holding him back, and he brushed it off with a laugh. "You think he doesn't know? You're forgetting how many women he let into my office. How many of them you think were attached?"
"I don't know, how many?"
"Eh, I don't know either, none of my business."
"Uh-huh," said Jeff, watching the light on the elevator arrows move up steadily, stomach growing increasingly sick as he neared his destination. "And, uh, whattaya think Timmy's up to right now? Or is that none of your business?"
"He said he'd be at home."
"Yeah, the texting, mysterious phone call, the little, uh, kiss on the-"
"Shut up."
"...Shouldn't you be off defending your territory?"
"Shut up," Russell repeated a bit more firmly, making his point quite clear.
"Whatever." Jeff didn't have time for this. Let Russell be an idiot on somebody else's watch, he was about to face the man who had somehow managed to draw Audrey away from him. He must be one hell of a guy to manage such a feat. He had to be some corporate hot shot, some big guy with a lot of money or a great body who didn't pass out five minutes after sex or sing really loud in the shower even though he couldn't sing a lick. Oh, god, had she heard this guy sing in the shower? Had she seen this guy in the shower? Had she been with this guy in the shower? What kind of body wash did this guy use? He probably smelled like a million bucks. He probably bathed in pure gold. Pure, liquid gold. Hell knows he could probably afford it. Jeff could barely afford new underpants these days, what with one kid and another on the way. Who would wanna stick around for a guy with ripped underpants?
"Jeff!"
Russell was standing outside the elevator, holding the door for him. Jeff gathered himself enough to leave the elevator, and examined his surroundings. What the hell was this?
"What the hell is this?"
The walls were lined with various neatly framed movie posters; Star Wars. They walked the hall slowly, the films going up chronologically as they spoke.
"Who are we looking for?"
"Uh...Barry. But I'm starting to think-"
"Okay, so what's our cover?"
"Cover?" Jeff hadn't thought this far ahead. He'd only come to scope the place out, and in his slight daze he was allowing Russell to take this a step too far. He needed to wake up.
Too late. They were greeted now by a desk covered in action figures from a variety of franchises: Frodo, Master Chief, Mr. T., Yoda. And sitting at the desk was a man dressed in a red shirt, Starfleet insignia on the breast. Russell got the joke immediately, turning to Jeff with a sharp laugh.
"He's a redshirt!" Jeff stared at him blankly. "Star Trek? He's low rank, man, he's - never mind, it's funny. I should start dressing my assistants like this!" Turning back to the man: "Hey, looking for a Barry."
"You the sandwich guy?"
"Uhh..." Russell took a moment to process the question. "Yyyess?"
"Oh, awesome, they've been waiting for you. Who's this guy?" the man asked, gesturing to Jeff.
"Uhh, he's my...assistant...sandwich guy?"
"Oh, okay, cool. You guys can go right in."
That was the last straw for Jeff; he hoisted Russell back by the collar, away from the receptionist's desk.
"We're not doing this."
"What? Why?"
"This is stupid! Look, there's obviously been some kind of misunderstanding, Audrey would never be messing around with a guy working in a place like this, I mean this place reads geek central. And seriously, who has an affair-"
"In the middle of an office building, I heard you the first ten times. And again, you wanna know how many times I've had sex at work? Because I can stand here telling you all the sordid details of who I've plowed, but I thought we came here to find out who's been plowing your wife."
Jeff groaned, looking towards the door next to the receptionist's desk...no. What was he thinking? Go home, talk to Audrey. Why in the hell was he letting Russell call the shots? Why in the hell was he-
"Hey!" The door opened, and a stalky, bearded man in casual attire complete with backwards baseball cap flashed a friendly smile. "You must be the sandwich guys!"
"Uhhh..." Jeff shook his head, ready to admit defeat and head for safer shores.
"Yeah, that's us."
Jeff snarled in Russell's direction; yep, he would kill him later. But as they were led into a bustling office space that smelled a little more like a college dorm room - and looked like it too, complete with centralized ping-pong table, randomly placed bean bag chairs, and scattered pizza boxes, his mind began to linger back onto Russell's words: they'd come here to find out who was plowing his wife. Seriously, was one of these frat boys plowing Audrey?
Either way, there was no turning back now; they were in too deep. They were the Sandwich Guys.
Timmy had started doing what he often did when his nerves got the better of him: toiling about. He'd tried reading, but couldn't focus, so he'd gone domestic, tidying up Russell's messes, straightening pictures on walls, finding every speck of dust, allowing all his nervous tics to take control.
He almost didn't hear the knock on the door, broom in hand, mind worn down with innumerous scattered thoughts. He opened it to find Russell's mother greeting him with a warm smile as she invited herself inside, walking past him without so much as an exchange in words.
She eyed the broom in his hand with slight repulsion and laughed gingerly. "Oh, Timmy, dear, don't tell me you've taken to cleaning? Don't you have somebody for that?"
"Oh..." Timmy observed the broom, setting it aside. "Russell did have someone, but I'm not really accustomed to such things, I'd simply rather take care of myself, you see. Besides, it helps me think..."
"Oh, how very novel, work helping one think? You're so adorable."
"Hm. Yes. At any rate, uhm...Ms. Dun-... Bunny-... Mothe-... I'm afraid Russell isn't in, at present."
"Oh, that's fine, darling. It's really you I'd like to see."
"Oh...oh, well, all right, uhm. I was just about to make tea, would you care for a cup?"
"Tea sounds lovely...oh, and Timmy? Do be a dear. Add some brandy to mine, if you've got it? And leave out the tea."
As soon as Timmy had slipped his way into the kitchen, Bunny made herself at home, examining her surroundings. She walked her way around the living room, surveying the shelves, the walls, as if trying to decipher just what her son was up to these days...what had led him to this place in his life.
The decor clashed awkwardly, a mix of tastes, a mix of cultures. Modern chic and hip couture ala Russell, a bit of ethnic flair and cultured charm ala Timmy. She settled finally on a grouping of family photos on the wall. To one side, a framed portrait of Russell and Timmy taken several months earlier; a reminder of their coming out to the gang, a fiasco of a day to be sure. A figurative and literal coming out of closets. To the other side, the most recent photo Timmy had of his family: him, Simran, Rahm, and Varsha. Smiling, happy, together...
"It's not the best brandy, but I do hope it will suffice."
Bunny turned to Timmy, grabbing the glass with a grateful nod, but her attentions turned back towards the photo on the wall. "Your family, Timmy?"
He had avoided looking at the picture as of late, but settled on it now reluctantly at her prompting. She noted the look in his eyes, one of sadness, perhaps a touch of longing, and she watched as his face turned down. Carefully, Bunny placed a finger under Timmy's chin, willing him to look at her.
"Do you need to talk?"
"Thank you...thank you, but..."
"Timmy, I wasn't there for Russell."
"Ms. Dunbar, I-"
"Oh, I know I wasn't. Not the way he needed me to be. And I know it's a little late to start, but Timmy, dear, you married him. You're mine now, you've doubled my workload. Oh! I'm not complaining, mind you...just please. Let me do my job, hm? As a mother?"
Timmy allowed himself to meet Bunny's eyes, and found in them something strangely familiar and comforting, a certain warmth which made him feel at home. And so he conceded with a soft smile.
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you very much."
Jeff and Russell were led to a large makeshift table-turned-desk, the man gesturing them to sit; they spotted two nameplates that read "Tug Skywalker" and "Darth Barry".
"So, I'm Tug." He shook hands with both of them before leaning back in his chair and shaking his head with a heavy sigh. "Man, we had a sandwich guy, and one day he just up and quit. We can't get a decent sandwich now to save our lives. We've got the pizza guy, the noodle guy, the cookie lady and the kid who brings the donuts every morning, but we're really itchin' around here for a good sandwich guy, y'know what I mean? Either of you fellas ever run a web development corporation?"
Jeff and Russell stared, stunned speechless.
"Yeah, guess not. Well, let me tell ya, it's cut-throat man. These are the things you've gotta think about, I tell ya, my job is never done, seriously."
A woman with long blonde hair, horn rimmed glasses, and a pert pair of...eyes approached, carrying a disc. "Those files you wanted, Tug."
"Oh, thanks babe. And uh, could you let Barry know the sandwich guys are here?"
She slank away vivaciously, the men watching her move...she stopped near a lanky man...could that count as a man? That couldn't be him. Ah, damn it. Jeff ran a hand slowly down his neck as the fresh-faced, eternally optimistic looking fellow walked their way, a light skip in this step.
The man extended a hand in greeting. "Salutations!"
"You're, uh, Barry?" asked Jeff, accepting his hand.
"That's what it says on the ID. State ID, not driver's ID. It's just when I miss my Ritalin I get a little swervy, so-"
"Hey, Barry?" Tug shot from behind the desk. "Oversharing."
Barry nodded in apology, taking his seat beside Tug...and added as a quick aside to his work companion: "Oh, I think I'm finally cracking down on Audrey."
Russell and Jeff leaned forward ever so slightly at Audrey's name.
"Oh, that's great man, we could really use her around here."
"Yeah, man, she was the best project manager we ever had. I mean, she was the only one we ever had, really, and she only stuck around for a few weeks, but still. Nobody else has even called us back, I think that's a pretty good sign, right?"
Tug and Barry smiled and nodded at one another, exchanging a congratulatory high-five before turning back towards Jeff and Russell.
"So," began Barry, "about those sandwiches..."
But Jeff and Russell had already made a quick dash for the exit.
Barry and Tug sighed heavy, defeated sighs.
"So...pizza?" asked Barry.
"Pizza," replied Tug.
Bunny and Timmy sat comfortably on the living room sofa, Bunny sipping Brandy, Timmy sipping tea.
"So your family is in India?"
"Save for my sister, Simran. She's in Chicago. She works for a rather successful law firm, she's made a good life for herself there." He thumbed the corner of his cup with a weak moan. "Better than I have. Funny, she always looked up to me, and here I've made a grand mess of things, whereas she's doing quite well for herself."
"In what way are things a mess, dear?"
It was then that Timmy realized something: Bunny didn't know. She was unaware of the years of misery he'd endured at Russell's hands, of the tracking chip debacle that changed everything, of every small event throughout the years that had led to the inevitable place they now found themselves. And what was the sense in revealing all these details to her now? All she knew was that her son loved him...she seemed to accept this at face value, and she wanted to love him as well.
"You know, Ms. Dunbar-"
"Bunny."
"Bunny. You know, it...it really doesn't matter. For better or for worse, I'm here now."
"But you must get terribly homesick...and they're so far away, they must miss you so." She watched that same look return to his face; that forlorn pining for something just out of grasp. "Please, Timmy, what's troubling you so?"
He sipped his tea to stop himself from getting just a touch emotional in front of Bunny before willing himself to speak...it didn't help much, and his voice still came out soft and shaken. "I haven't spoken much to my family in recent days. Aside from my sister." He attempted to bring his cup back to his lips, but found his hand shook, and placed the cup carefully to the table. "I'm to speak with my parents this evening."
Bunny didn't want to drink alone, and placed her glass beside Timmy's.
"You don't sound as enthusiastic as one might expect. Don't you want to speak with them?"
Timmy nodded silently, looking away. He was beginning to notice every bit of mess he had missed; crumbs on the table, a bit of dirt on the floor, and he started to fidget. He wanted to move, to preoccupy himself with other things; he wanted to stop thinking.
Bunny, sensing Timmy's nerves, placed a hand gently to his leg, which had begun to shake lightly. "Am I to understand this all has something to do with certain recent developments between you and Russell? There is perhaps a touch of friction within your family?"
Timmy's shaking eased as he looked upon the woman, overwhelmed by her candor and the sense of empathy emanating from her in this moment. "Oh...oh, that's...that's very insightful of you."
"I'm smarter than I look." She patted his leg with a light chuckle. "Oh, but darling, if they wish to speak with you, then don't be frightened. Look how long it took Russell to tell me, and look at how ridiculous he was being. We're sitting here now, having a lovely conversation, aren't we?"
"I'm afraid it's not that simple. You see, my parents took quite well to Russell on the one occasion they did meet but, uhm...that was...was before all of...things have changed."
"Yes...yes, I see."
"If you don't mind my asking, it's taken me as something...something of a surprise that you're so open to the idea of..." Timmy couldn't bring himself to complete the thought, but found Bunny glaring at him, her brows arched as she waited for him to finish. "You'll have to forgive me, it's just that I might have taken you for a bit more..."
"Conservative?"
"Well, yes, I suppose so. What with Russell's apprehension in telling his father, and-"
"Oh, please!" She seemed so appalled by the statement that Timmy aimed to apologize before she cut him off. "Why do you think I divorced the man?"
"I assumed because you hated him."
"Well, yes, primarily. But he's also got a terrible stick up his...well, the man is terribly thick headed, dear. He's simply no fun. Well, that, and he was cheating on me with every woman from here to Saskatchewan...I'm not exaggerating, he kept a mistress there. Well, I was no nun, either, I mean-"
"Uhm..." They seemed to be getting a bit off track. "Russell tells me you would often...speak to him in jest about me. That we ought to..."
"Oh, not in jest, darling." She smiled quite coyly at him now, to which he couldn't help smiling back. "It was only ever in his best interest, mind you. Oh, but that was all your doing. Don't you remember the conversation we had so long ago? It's a parent's job to be there for their child...with love, not money. You reminded me of that."
"My father always said a parent's job is to keep a child on the straight and narrow, to ensure one succeeds in life." He grimaced a bit. Mm...straight and narrow; ironic now, given the situation. "Not to say that my parents weren't there for me, my goodness, I couldn't have asked for more loving, devoted parents. I just...I wish...I wish this was easier, I feel so lost, I..."
Bunny gripped Timmy's hand, which shook beneath her touch; once more she tilted his chin up softly, urging his eyes to meet with hers, and he blinked back the start of tears.
"You know, it's a frightening thing, having a child. Never knowing if they're safe, if they'll find somebody to look after them when you're not there..." She stroked his cheek in a soft, motherly fashion. "A kind hearted soul who only wants to love and be loved...well, dear, my Rusty found that."
Timmy sighed out, breath quivering.
She cupped his face now in both hands. "Sometimes love comes out in peculiar ways, but it's still love...your parents worry about you because they love you. So talk to them, hm?"
Timmy simply nodded in reply...and although he'd tried very hard not to, let forth soft tears, to which Bunny wrapped delicate arms around her son-in-law, holding him carefully, very gently, as though he may break; indeed, he already had, and quite unbeknownst to her, she'd somehow managed to help piece him back together.
Jeff made a slow beeline for the kitchen upon entering his apartment.
Audrey stood holding Shea, watching him move; she had greeted him warmly and received no reply. She followed her husband in confusion to find him already having opened a beer and downed half of it in the time it took her to join him in the kitchen...uhm, ten seconds?
"So...what've you been up to?"
Jeff turned away with a heavy grimace. "Starting right out the gate with that one, couldn't build up to that sucker?"
Audrey's friendly tone dropped, the realization that Jeff had something to hide just made abundantly clear. "Okay, seriously, what's going on?"
Jeff downed the rest of his beer before turning back. "What, uh, what makes you think something's going on?"
"You walked straight in here without even looking at us...you're hiding something, what is it?"
Jeff nodded slowly. "Okay. Okay, but listen, you promise not to hold this over my head for about a million years?"
"I would never."
"You absolutely would."
A silent staring match. Audrey looked away with a shrug, giving Jeff the victory.
"Today I did just about the dumbest thing imaginable."
Audrey laughed lightly. "Come on, like you can beat your record? Those are pretty high stakes to live up to, I mean, you want me to go pull up the list?"
"Awh, come on, are you still keeping that thing?"
Audrey started to make her way back towards the living room. "Seriously, do I need to go get it, because-"
"I took advice from Russell."
She stopped abruptly, frozen in place. At first, she wasn't sure she'd heard correctly; she turned slowly back around, one brow arched sharply as she looked back at Jeff. He nodded in confirmation; yes, she had heard him correctly.
"Russell...Dunbar?"
"The only Russell we know, yes."
"Exactly...what kind of advice did you take from Russell?"
Jeff was still sleep deprived, still a touch past stupid, but he suddenly thought better than to incriminate himself in such an obvious way. "Yeah, y'know what, that's...not really important right now, what is important is that I realized something today."
"By taking advice from Russell?"
"Forget..." Jeff grit down, his body tensing, "...that I mentioned that sack of sleaze for a minute, huh, can ya, I'm leading up to something, here."
Audrey cradled Shea in one arm, placing a hand against her hip. "Okay, then. Lead up."
"I just..." All eyes were on Jeff. Audrey's eyes, Shea's eyes, bearing into him in that judgmental 'you're a moron' way the Bingham women so expertly excelled at; started the kid off young. Rrrggghh.
Audrey could tell Jeff was struggling, and her face softened, sass-hand falling from her hip. "Listen, uhm...can I...can I talk to you about something?"
"Yes!" Jeff gestured in excitement, perhaps a bit too excited as Audrey took a step back in surprise. "Yes, that's all I want, is...is for us to talk, Aud, I mean..." He took a slow breath. "What, what do you want to talk about?"
"You first, you said you were leading up to...I kind of stepped on what you were gonna say..."
"No, you first, my big mouth can wait, I-"
Audrey walked up to Jeff, placing a hand to his mouth with a small smile, urging him to be quiet. When she pulled her hand away, she kissed him softly, deeply; when she pulled back he laughed, almost in relief.
"Yeah," he said, "guess we haven't been doing much of that lately." Shea cooed, and he pointed to her playfully. "Guess who's fault that is, little lady?" He rubbed Audrey's stomach. "...And fetus."
"Well," Audrey said with a sigh, "Mommy and Daddy being morons might have a little to do with it."
Jeff looked back to Audrey, cupping her face with a hand. "If you need something, why don't you talk to me about it? I mean, if you want to go back to work-"
Audrey shot back lightly. "How...how do you know about that?"
Jeff closed one eye tight and hissed out. "I'll...I'll explain later. Just talk to me. No secrets."
Audrey began speaking quickly. "I haven't decided, it would be some at-home set up, and these guys are real kooks Jeff, it's really a dumb idea, but I'm so...I'm so bored and it's not that I'm not happy, I am, I love being a mother and I love you, I love Shea, I just...I'm just..."
"I know. It's okay, come here." He wrapped his arms around his girls, and she relaxed into him. And everything was fine.
Russell creaked the door to the apartment open very slowly; he peeked inside carefully. No sign of Timmy. Suspicions rising...maybe he really hadn't gone straight home after all.
He should have learned a little something from the wild goose chase with Jeff, who had nearly executed him no less than thirty minutes ago; to quote, "I'll turn you into lunch meat and make a knuckle 'sandwich guy' outta you, y'son of a-"
But no, of course he hadn't learned a thing, and he had to get to the bottom of this...mysterious texts, phone calls pulling Timmy away out of the blue...something fishy was going on.
"Oh, hello." There he was. Traipsing out from the bedroom as if nothing was going on. Little husbandly pat on the back and kiss on the cheek as if everything was fine - HA! "Your mother stopped by a bit ago, she wondered if you wanted to go out with her tonight."
"My mother?"
"Yes. I'm afraid I can't join you this evening, uhm...I wanted to talk to you about that, actually, might we-"
Yeah, sure as hell we will. "Who is it?"
Timmy took a step away. "What...?"
"Who've you been texting the last few days, huh?!"
Timmy's eyes narrowed. Ohhh, no. No, you can not be serious right now.
"Nonstop, you're on that stupid phone! I know it's not your little gal pal Jen, she's busy getting ransacked by that numbskull she calls a husband!"
Timmy sighed and spoke quite pointedly. "Shall we discuss the numbskull I call a husband, the one who's presently standing here making an utter fool of himself?"
"Oh...oh, me, really? Seriously, you're talking about me?"
"I don't believe I have another husband."
Russell motioned choking Timmy before spinning away, stomping his way into the kitchen. Timmy glared in his direction, huffing lightly and taking a moment to collect himself before storming a trail behind him.
Russell felt the kitchen door slam him firmly in the back and growled with a spin to face Timmy again, who wasted no time in stating his case in no uncertain terms.
"Now you see here, Russell Dunbar..."
"Ugghhh." Both names; talked down to as if he was a child. Russell rolled his eyes and turned away with a stiff grimace, sitting down at the kitchen island, chin planted firmly in a hand.
"I've had quite enough of your schoolboy tantrums. You initiate an argument and then walk away before I even have a chance to speak, you create conflicts out of nothing! What on earth is going on? Why are you so acting so-"
"Who is it?"
Timmy walked slowly to the other side of the island, facing Russell. He hesitated, focusing on Russell's face. He found him annoying, initially, childish and stupid, that familiar pout having overtaken him, the one he often wore when he didn't get his way; but Russell had a way of swaying Timmy. There was something else going on, and Timmy was innately aware of this. Russell was scared of something. Foolishly so, but nevertheless.
Timmy sat, folding his arms atop the island and waiting for Russell to ease up a bit; to show a touch of maturity. It wasn't coming, he realized, and so he gave in. "You really want to know?"
"Yes," said Russell softly.
"Kevin. I've been texting with Kevin."
This was when Russell's expression changed; the childish pout turned to contemplation...confusion. And finally he eyed Timmy suspiciously, and in a tone full of blatant accusation spat: "You're messing around with another guy? Since when were you into guys?!"
"Oh, for heaven's..." Timmy pressed fingers firmly into his temples, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath to retain his sanity. "My god, Russell. Your assistant, Kevin."
Russell nodded as if it all made perfect sense now. "That's it. You've come together in solidarity over your hatred of me, it's some twisted assistant thing, shoulda seen this coming from a mile away, man, I should've-"
Timmy leaned across the island, grasping Russell by either side of his face. "STOP IT! You're doing that thing we talked about!"
Russell spoke softly: "What thing?"
"Being an idiot! You're being an idiot! Stop! Being! An idiot! Why on earth would I be having an affair with your assistant?!"
Russell blinked heavily, trying to come up with a reasonable response; he had none. "W-why, then?"
"I'm trying to prevent him from quitting. It seems to be working thus far, don't mess it up."
Oh. Well, sure, that...that made sense...kind of. "But...the phone call at the diner, and you, uh...left so fast..."
"Simran. It was Simran."
Timmy's hands remained firmly planted on Russell's face. Russell could no longer bear to look at him; his eyes closed slowly down. "I, uh...I just...thought..."
"I know what you thought."
"What...what did Simran..."
"My parents wish to speak with me tonight, it seems I can't avoid it any longer. I came home and I broke down." Timmy let go of Russell's face. "You came home and accused me of cheating. So thank you for that."
Russell looked upon Timmy's face, breath stuck in his throat, trying to figure out what to say, to back peddle on his own stupidity; and then stood quickly, retreating back into the living room.
Timmy sat awhile, alone. He'd needed Russell today, desperately; he still needed him. "Damn it."
Russell was hunched over on the sofa looking full of shame when Timmy came back out to the living room and sat beside him lightly, carefully. "It's all right, Russell."
Russell wouldn't look at him; he wouldn't speak to him.
Timmy poked Russell in the ribs...teasingly, playfully; to break the tension. "Perhaps you worry, uhm...because you love me." At this, Timmy received a welcome glance upward from Russell; one of stilted confusion, but still, a sign of recognition. Timmy smiled lightly. "Honestly, why would I be cheating on you?"
Russell groused, aiming to remain pensive. "Seriously, you need a list?"
"Again, don't be an idiot."
"I still have, uh...trust..."
"Trust issues, yes."
"When...when is..."
"We have therapy on Friday."
"Friday."
Timmy wove Russell towards him; Russell nestled into the crook of his arm. "It's just that, uh...yeah, just that I love you, I guess."
"Yes, well, sometimes love comes out in peculiar ways."
Russell laughed softly. "Where the hell did you get that crap, anyway?"
"...Your mother, darling."