First of all: thank you for all your comments. Im really sorry about any mistakes. English is not my first langage, i dont have a beta amd words only do so much ;) ill try to improve!
For Rusty, flying was still very out of his confort zone. His first time on a plane was just three years ago, after all. Sharon had insisted, at the time, for him to come with her visit Emily in New York. It had been his first time out of LA. He remembered it fondly. They were not really close back then but she had wanted to keep him close, for him to be part of her family already. He smiled, remembering her tactics: she had promised Burgers, museum (going to the Dinosaur exhibit!) and doing all the tourists stuff. And even tough he had loved his weekend, loved being able to be carefree in an unknown town where no one knew him or his past, where his only worry was not to loose her in the crowd, it was on the plane that their bond had reach a new level. She must have felt his fear and had pretended herself to be afraid. She had reached for his hand and he had accepted it. It had been their first physical contact and it had been the first time in a long long time that he relied on someone to ease his worries.
Before that moment, he hadn't realize how much he missed human contact even though he still despised being touched. Sharon was always so patient with him, always respecting his boundaries. It was another thing he learned during this very first trip with her. How different she was acting with him and with Emily. How joyfull and sweet and caring she was with her girl, how tender she really was. They were always touching, hugging, walking so close their arms or shoulders were in contact. He noticed that and even more how she refrained herself with him. After that, he saw sometimes when they were home or at the grocery how she would reach out to grab his arm. One day, he'll have to tell her how much he appreciate it.
Since that time, he had taken the plane about half a dozen times, each time to go to New York see Emily. He still didn't feel confortable, though. And now, with Flynn around and his mother engrossed with him… It just didn't help. He settled against the window, glad Andy let him have it. His mother followed and sit next to him, with Andy at her other side. As soon as she buckled up, she reach for his hand and gave him one of her sweet smile. At that instant, he felt both so very grateful and so very ashamed. She was Sharon, she'd never abandon him. He had to remind that to himself.
« Hey Kid, I have something for you. » Flynn, with his big goofy smile handed him an issue of Detective magazine.
« Ahah, very funny. » He smiled, secretly grateful. It was not much but Andy always thought about him: bringing him a collation, a soda or now a trashy magazine. Sharon was laughing next to him.
« Hold on Honey, I have something for you too. » And with that, the older man gave her a Cosmo magazine. His mother laughed again, louder, throatier and hit the man next to her with said magazine. « 7 ways to appear older and get the man of your dreams » he said, laughing too. « When I saw it, I had to get it for you. You know, young lady, mature gentleman like me are hard to found. » While the 2 joked, Rusty looked at the issue and noted that there were a lot of other articles more scandalous than this one, like « how to give your man the blowjob of his dreams » or « the 3 ideal position for an incredible orgasm ». He found it weird for Andy not to mention them. His mom squeezed his hand a little bit and when he looked at her, he saw pure love and adoration in her gaze directed to Andy, who reflected the same. Yes, Andy liked to joke around and tease them but it was always innocent and respectful.
Not even 10 minutes after take off, Sharon was fast asleep. Her head on Andy's shoulder, her right hand holding her son's, she appeared perfectly peaceful with a small smile tugging her lips. Agitation caught Rusty's eyes and he was about to grouse to Andy when he understood what he was doing. Without a word, he helped the other man taking the blanket out of its bag and wrapped it around Sharon. He noticed how delicate the lieutenant was when it came to unbuckle his mother belt and put it back on top of the cover. She didn't even stir. Andy then reach for her right hand, the one which was still holding Rusty. "You ok with that? You'll be able to move more freely but if you want..." How could Andy be always so thoughtful. Rusty shook his head and watched the lieutenant taking his mother's fingers before setting them on her lap, his big hand on top of hers. She moaned a bit but did not wake. To finish, Andy dropped a kiss on her head.
Rusty ofter wondered what his mother found in this man so very different from her. He didn't have the same education as her. He did not seem to be as smart or cultivated as her, far from it even. He very often wondered what they have in common, what they could possibly talk about. Sure they both loved watching sports but they had to have more. He doubt Andy was interested in exchanging about the last Monet or Van Gogh exhibition. But maybe that was not what Sharon was interested in. He knew for sure that Jack was immensely cultivated, he was fond of Art and poetry and the man could recite Shakespeare. He was sure it was something Sharon loved, maybe even found attractive. But then, Jack was unreliable. Andy wasn't. Andy was there to take his mother out to all those exhibits, to the theatre and to the movies. And he was really there, not like Jack or his biological mother, or himself if he was to be honest, who even though could be physically present were always thinking about something else. Andy was there there: in the moment, thinking about what they were doing, mindful of them.
And he was trying. He looked at the older man who was reading The National Geographic. He was trying everyday to improve himself. He knew Andy read Sharon's Elle, especially the reportage section. He had caught him more than once doing so. He was cataloging the LA Times every week to know where to take his mother out. Maybe He should try too and give Andy more than the benefit of the doubt.
