The occasion had a dual purpose, and both were equally important. On one hand, it was the day before the Thanksgiving holiday, and that meant a lot of preparing for the following day's feasting. On the other hand, it was a certain youngest child's second birthday, and that meant celebrating him, on top of getting ready for what was to come the next day. Needless to say, it was one of busiest days in the house, and it was barely after seven-thirty in the morning when things started to get weird.
Although it was still early in the morning, there was no reason at all for anyone to be sleeping at that point, so, much like he did every morning before it, Andres went room to room, getting his younger brothers awake for the day. It was easier for him to do it than to bother his parents with the task, and he was sure that they appreciated his efforts, especially when it came to the weekend mornings when no one wanted to be up before noon. But on a special day like the current one, everyone needed to be awake and ready to take on the day, and so he did his job as diligently as he could.
He woke them up in order, starting first with Sergio, who knew the routine and understood it about as well as Andres did. After their daily, and completely friendly, wrestling match on the floor, the brothers parted ways, one to get dressed and see what there was he could do at the early hour, and the other to continue on with what he was doing. Waking Ryden was a bit harder, because he really liked kicking at anyone who dared touch him in his sleep, plus the dirty looks he gave when he was finally awake were ripped straight from nightmares. But after the requisite fighting between them he too was on his way to being prepared for the day, and Andres was then left with the hardest part of the job.
On this particular day, however, it was much harder. When he got to his youngest brother's room, he saw that the door was already opened a bit, and a shiver of fear went down his spine. Had someone gotten in? Was something wrong? Before he could let those worries turn to sheer panic, he pushed the door open with as much might as he could, ran inside, and flipped on the light. Instead of an intruder running towards him, it was one Mr. Chocolate Vanilla Swirl, dashing out of the room as fast as he could. It happened so fast that Andres could barely comprehend what he had just witnessed, but then he heard the sniffling that was the precursor for loud crying.
"Oh, did the mean kitty cat get'cha?" Walking to the side of his brother's bed, Andres hoped that just the sight of his smiling face would be enough to get the little one to not cry. "What did mom say about playing with him? Little boys don't play with the kitty cat, right?" As he said those words, he couldn't help but take on a tone that sounded much like his father—which, combined with the fact that he was the near-spitting image of him, could definitely fool someone into needing to do a double take. "Come on, let's not cry and let's be happy. It's your birthday. Gotta be happy."
It was then that he noticed that, across his brother's face, was a thin scratch, not bleeding but just red, which seemed to be the cause of the problems. Or, at least, that's what Andres hoped it was, because if it wasn't he was definitely not going to be able to get the kid to stop crying. "The kitty scratched you?" he asked, miming a scratching motion, and the little one nodded, still sniffling and having tears in his eyes. "That's no good. Know how we're gonna make you happy and not crying?"
"N-no," the shaky and small voice of the child in the bed replied. "How?"
Without really thinking about what he was doing, Andres dropped to his hands and knees, shaking his head so that his long, braided hair (the sole factor in him not being a perfect replica of his father) whipped around and rested on his back. "By playing horsey. You love horsey. Get on and get happy!" Just like that, there were no more sniffles, and the kid was climbing off of his bed and onto his brother's back, grabbing hold of that long braid to act as a rein for the "horsey" ride. Once he was seated and secure, Andres started crawling around the room, trying to playfully buck his brother off of him every few moments, and after just a couple of minutes of the playing they were both laughing.
"What are you two doing in there?" Poking her head into the doorway, Heather couldn't help but crack a smile at the sound of the two boys and their laughter, nor could she resist adding a chuckle to the mix at the sight she was witnessing. "Looks like you're having a lot of fun in here, but I'm pretty sure that you both are supposed to be somewhere that's not in here right about now."
"Sorry, mom. It's just that when I came in here to wake him up, I guess the cat got to him first." Stopping his movement across the floor, Andres began to get up, sending his brother tumbling to the floor in a fit of screeching laughter. "And since it's his birthday, I thought horsey would be okay."
"You know the rules. No playing until after your father's seen you're all awake." There was a slight amount of disgust as she spoke, which was driven home with the way she rolled her eyes. "As far as he knows, you and birthday boy Trevin there aren't up, even though you obviously are. Why else would the other two be awake?"
Andres, now back to his feet and making sure that his brother was standing and getting dressed, gave a small shrug. "I'unno, mom, that's something you should ask him instead of me. I just know he doesn't…well, like me. So I bet he'd say it's because they did it on their own, or something like that."
"It's too early in the day to be getting into that. If you want to talk later about it, that's fine with me, but right now we all need to be somewhere and that somewhere is not in here. We've got a busy day ahead of us, and you know how your father will get if we keep him and his plans waiting any longer." Rolling her eyes again at what she was pretending to be happy about saying, she soon disappeared from where she had stood in the doorway, and as she could be heard walking away, Trevin screeched and chased after her, even though he was half-dressed. That left Andres in the room alone, sighing and telling himself that everything was going to be okay when he finally joined everyone in the kitchen, just like usual.
Normal mornings didn't start with him being slightly scolded by the parent who actually liked him, though, and if his mom was even marginally upset with him (even though he knew if she was, it wasn't of her own choosing), then it was just going to be a terrible day for him. No matter what. When he left the room after finally getting a hold of himself and his negative thoughts, he spent more time looking at the walls and what decorated them than he did watching where he was going, mostly because he knew the way well enough, but partially because there was something about seeing all the smiling faces in the pictures that lined the hall that had a cheering effect on him. It wouldn't keep him from thinking the day was going to be one of the worst ever, but it definitely would tell him that there was at least a chance that things would be okay.
Occasionally he'd catch his reflection rather than whatever forced family portrait lay behind the glass, and seeing a face so similar to the one that always looked at him with disgust didn't help his inner problem. How was it that, of the four kids, he was the only one who didn't inherit at least some of their mom's beauty, all while being the only one who didn't have a decent relationship with their father? Thanks to whatever was out there that wanted to see him suffer, he was doomed to look just like someone he couldn't get along with, someone who disproved of the fact that he enjoyed spending time with his mom and doing more feminine things than those seen as traditionally masculine.
When he entered the kitchen where everyone was gathered, whatever conversation had been going on came to a stand-still, and everyone shifted to look at him, to make him feel like he was late for something important. He looked to the nearest clock and saw that it was just a few minutes later than normal, so whatever was going on was either more important than he realized, or everyone was just trying to scare him. Rather than apologize for coming in so late, he just took his normal seat, put his face in his hands, and waited for the inevitable to happen. "Now that we are all gathered here, on this fine and early morning, I do believe that it is time to start discussing the events for today and tomorrow." If there was one positive thing that Andres could think about his father, it was that the man was pretty great at making everything sound like a formal event, speaking like he had to be proper about each and every thing, even if he was most likely wearing pajamas as he did it. "As we are all very aware, these two days are going to be very busy for us all, and if we do not make sure to each do our part, everything will collapse."
"Is my part gonna be to clean up the toy room again?" Sergio asked, his face filled with excitement at the prospect of getting to spend several hours rooting through old toys that none of the boys even touched. "I would like that lots, if it could be."
"Not anymore. While that may be what you are used to doing, after a long discussion last night your mother and I came to realize that there needed to be a shift in what everyone is tasked with, not just for today but for every day like this one." There was a bit of a glimmer in Alejandro's eyes as he looked between Heather and the four kids, only three of which were looking back at him. When he did get to looking at Andres, who still had his face hidden, there was a pause in motion, followed with a sigh and a shake of his head. "It seems someone is uninterested in what I have to say."
"I'm listening, father." Speaking with his face still covered, so that his voice was muffled, Andres made no effort to actually seem like he cared. "Just not happy that I won't be in charge of making sure the main room is spotless."
"You will enjoy this much more, I can assure you, because it is more suited to your interests. But before you know your new task, your brothers must know theirs." Clasping his hands together loudly enough to startle everyone and get both pets running into the kitchen to make sure everything was okay, Alejandro got down to business quickly. "From today on, the task of preparing the yards and the main room of the house for guests will belong to Sergio, and his old job of keeping the toy room in order will now fall onto the shoulders of both Ryden and Trevin." He clasped his hands together again, still as loud as before. "As today is a special day for one of you, he will naturally not have to do his work, but I hope that the two of you who will be working do everything as well as you can."
Typically there would have been some sort of indication that they were supposed to run off and start cleaning, but since it was a very weird and special day, that indicator was different than its usual. Where it was normally a stern word from one of the adults to go, on this particular day it was a smile and a friendly reminder from both parents that they loved them very much and appreciated it that they were willing to do chores just to make things run smoothly for the family.
When Andres finally got around to uncovering his face, after he had to sit through listening to all that love-y nonsense being flung at the two, he saw that they had disappeared, as had the third brother even though he hadn't needed to. That left him alone, in the kitchen, with one person who loved him and one person who didn't, and he didn't have the liberty of getting to run off for the sake of doing work, because he didn't know what he needed to do. "So, uh, since Sergio's got my chores now, does this mean I don't have anything?" he asked with a sheepish smile, making sure to look at his mom while he spoke. "I'd be cool with that, and if I didn't have anything to do, maybe I'd be able to…uh, paint your nails or something?"
"While that does sound nice, I don't think it's me you're supposed to be asking about what you need to do today. I may have helped decide that things were going to change, but I didn't get much say in how they changed." Pursing her lips together in a small frown, Heather gave a small motion for Andres to look at his father, and when the boy did he saw a very different version of him than the one his brothers had been treated to.
For starters, he wasn't being looked at with happiness and shining eyes, and he definitely wasn't about to be treated to any sort of inspirational and fun messages. "I do not know why you insist on speaking to your mother when I am present, but I hope that after we get to spend some quality time together you will learn to respect me just as you respect her." There was a pause while the father and son stared at each other, one's eyes narrowing while the other's widened in fear, and more words didn't follow until Alejandro dropped his intimidation act and started giving a big and nearly worrisome smile at Andres. "You shall learn that respect by assisting me in preparing the meals for these big days."
Having expected to be told that he'd be doing something outrageous, Andres was a little caught off guard by the fact that his role change went from cleaning to cooking, and he took a second to make sure that he wasn't dreaming before he commented on it. "Is that all?" he asked to clarify, and the nod he was given in response was enough to get him to crack a shaky smile in return. "Uh, thanks, father. I guess I'm happy that we'll be spending some sort of time together."
"Be sure of that happiness before we start, will you? I understand that you may not like me very much, but if you come into this with a positive attitude, we may grow closer together than you could believe." The big smile faltered, replaced with a much smaller version of itself that didn't help with the feeling of dread and terror that was starting to feel Andres. He never really had gotten along with his father, and yet here he was, being told that things were going to change in that regard. It was quite literally one of the most terrifying things to happen in his life, and he had no way of stopping it, not when he couldn't just go to his mom and ask her to make things better in his favor.
Speaking of his mom, she was still sitting there, shaking her head at the two. "You know, this is either going to end really well, or someone's going to get hurt. And since one of you doesn't hold back his words, and the other has learned all he knows about arguing from me, I think the second option's more likely. Just don't kill each other, please." At that, she got up and started to leave, but mere steps from being out of the room she stopped, turning her head to look back at them. Or, more specifically, the one who was reaching for a knife. "Don't even think about cutting his hair off with that either. I swear to you, Alejandro, if the next time I see the boy he's missing even a little bit of his braid I will not forgive you for it."
"You are aware that cooking requires blades sometimes, correct?" he teasingly replied, grabbing the knife he had been going for and holding it up to show her. She rolled her eyes and continued on her way. "I would not be surprised if she was unaware of that fact. She could not even come close to cooking a decent meal if left on her own, and that is why this is something you and I must do together." He had gone to speak to Andres there at the end, but when he looked at where his son had been seated, the chair was empty and there was no sign of him having been in the room, aside from the running footsteps that could be heard heading away.
Things possibly couldn't have been worse than that for the kid. How was it that he was stuck doing something that he was told was boring and overly complicated with someone who never had anything nice to say to him? That was why Andres bolted the first chance he got, choosing to do what he had offered to do rather than what he was supposed to be doing. Spending time with his mom was always nicer than spending time with his dad ever could be, anyway, especially if that time was spent doing hair and playing with different nail polishes in many shades and colors. So maybe he was more feminine than his brothers and enjoyed getting to spend time giving his mom the bonding experience she had always wanted a daughter around for. Didn't mean he was a bad kid, did it?
Well, it didn't in his mom's eyes, but it sure did in his father's, a fact made very clear when, a few hours later in the day, he was almost literally dragged back into the kitchen by his father, being scolded that behavior like that wasn't going to be tolerated, or something to that extent. It had taken maybe five seconds of being chewed out for Andres to try and find something else to focus on, and he chose the decorations on the refrigerator as his distraction. Like always, there was a whiteboard on the front, with magnetic letters surrounding it, and a game of hangman set up on it. Trying to figure out what the words (there were two) could possibly be was a great way to ignore the reminders that "boys do not do" things like have painted toenails or long braids that go far down their backs.
But after the sound of the stern, scolding voice stopped filling the room and things more along the lines of actual bonding began, there wasn't a lot of time to ponder what the game's answer was. That was because there was so much else to be focusing on, like learning how to cook to the standards of a family that seemed to be more overbearing and demanding than really needed to be necessary. Between the reminders that one spoon was meant to be used to stir the contents of one pot and not another, and that the burners on the stove, even if they had been shut off, were still extremely hot, there was a bit of teaching of a different sort, something that honestly made Andres question what he had been scolded about just before they had begun cooking.
This was, of course, the fact that apparently cooking was seen as a feminine event, one that it was perfectly fine for boys to partaken in. "Um, I don't think I understand why it's so bad that I like doing things with my mom, then," he said under his breath as he stirred a pot full of something-or-other. "I mean, if it's cool for you to be into cooking, can't I be into things that I like? Or is that not allowed?"
"There is a difference between what you are interested in and cooking, and that is that one of them is a necessary skill for survival, and the other is turning you into a female. Which, as we all know very well, you are not, no matter how much your mother would like to wish you were." Setting down the blade he was using to chop vegetables, Alejandro looked at his son and shook his head. "But, the necessity of you knowing to cook also comes from her, so I would have to say that there are some things about her we should be thankful for."
"I'd think there'd be lots of things, not just that she can't cook." His voice was still quiet, as he didn't want to speak too loudly for fear of whatever words he used being used back against him later, so keeping his voice low was a way to make sure that what he said was left a little bit to the imagination. It was one of those adaptations that he had made over time, not exactly one he was proud of having had to make, but one he had at his disposal for situations like the one he was currently in. "Like, uh, maybe that she's kind of the love of your life, and the mom to us boys, and all that sort of stuff. Just maybe, though."
The knife was picked back up and the chopping of vegetables resumed, without any immediate comment on what had just been said, and Andres figured that he had simply upset his father with what he had said, so he just continued on with what he had been told to do. That was, until he heard his father say, "You would be right, if that were all we have to thank her for. There are some things about her that you do not know, and that is how it is meant to stay."
"Like how she wants a girl around? Trust me, totally know that one." The spoon clanged against the side of the pot as Andres let go of it, clenching both hands into fists. "I bet you think I spend all that time with her because I want to be that girl, and guess what? I don't! I just like being with my mom!" He was raising his voice, almost to a yell, and it was unlike him to do such a thing.
The event definitely caught Alejandro off guard, as he was startled enough by the near-yelling that he quite nearly cut his finger, and once he was sure that he hadn't hurt himself, he turned to face Andres, still with knife in hand. "I do not think you should be speaking to me like that," he said, pointing the knife at his son's face, causing the boy to go cross-eyed to look at it. "There is a level of respect that should exist between us, and you yelling at me is crossing a boundary you do not want to cross."
"Then stop being such a meanie to me, just for liking mom more than I like you!" Replacing the confidence that had filled his voice as it had gotten louder was a trembling tone, one that wasn't quite able to bring him from yelling. But when he saw the blade push a bit closer to him, nearly touching the tip of his nose, he started to shake in fear. "W-what, are you going to hurt me for not l-liking you as much?"
"No, I would never hurt a child that shares so much with me. Especially not in this way." The knife pulled back and was cast aside, and when Andres stopped trembling long enough to get a good focus on his dad, he saw that he seemed to have started staring out into the distance, lost in his thoughts. There wasn't going to be any real resolution to the problem at hand, not at that moment, and that meant just going back to cooking and trying to bond with someone who had shoved a knife in his face for not favoring him like his brothers did.
But on the opposite side of things, Alejandro couldn't help but feel the slightest amount of regret for taking such a drastic action, even if it had been a reaction to being startled. When he really thought about it, wasn't this kid just like himself when he was younger, albeit more extreme about things? Wanting to be more feminine, wanting less to do with anything that wasn't his specific interest, things like that? Or was this a completely different situation, one that needed to be handled better? (In all the ways it shouldn't have been handled, especially the ones involving knives, at least he hadn't chopped off part of that braid.)
Since the vast majority of what had to be done that day was in preparation for the following day, there wasn't that much that happened in terms of "celebrating" the birthday that was at hand. It wasn't that big of a deal, because there was always the next day when people came over for Thanksgiving dinner to celebrate, and besides, the child who was supposed to be honored wasn't even old enough to really grasp the whole concept of birthdays. He just knew that he got cake and presents and lots of attention, and that was really all that mattered to him.
But being able to pull off what little festivities there were for the occasion on top of getting ready for the next day was a difficult task, one that really had to be taken care of by the people in charge of cooking, who after their little fight hadn't so much as said a word to each other that wasn't about food. Their silence lasted all the way through the day and into the evening, when everyone had gathered for the fairly simple dinner they were having, and it most likely would have gone on longer had there not been someone present that found it odd that they weren't talking, completely unaware of what had caused the issue. "You know, it's weird that I haven't heard a single word of praise on how perfectly this meal ended up, when I know that both of you worked hard on this," Heather said, looking between Alejandro, who sat right beside her, and Andres, who was sitting as far away from his father as he could manage. "I'd have thought that you two would be going back and forth about how great of a job you did."
"I would say something, if I wouldn't be told I'm such a bad kid if I did." Muttering more to himself than anything, Andres really had hoped that no one had heard his response, but he hadn't taken into account the fact that one of his loudmouth younger brothers was right next to him, one that just loved repeating things that could get others in trouble.
That was exactly what Sergio did, except he didn't repeat everything, just the key part to the sentence. "He wants us to say he's a bad kid! I think he didn't do his work today!"
"A bad kid?" Raising her eyebrows, Heather turned her focus solely to the man beside her, noticing that he didn't so much as seem to realize that anything was even being said. "Okay, what did you do to get him thinking he's bad? It didn't deal with his 'deviant' behaviors, did it?" Still no reaction, and that was when she gave his arm a forceful smack. "You two were supposed to bond today, not hate each other more!"
"It is not that I hate him at all, but more that we agree to disagree on his choices. What happened today between us was a mistake and I do regret it happening." At the sound of his father's voice, Andres stood up, grabbed his dishes, and left, and once his footsteps were echoing outside of the room, that was when Alejandro decided to clarify his statement a bit. "I do not regret spending the time with him, if that is what that sounded like. It was a wonderful experience, finding out that he is every bit as much a competent cook as I am, but there are some things about him that make spending time together a bit unbearable."
"I can't believe I'm hearing this. You can't just decide you don't like being around him just because he's more like me. No wonder he doesn't ever want to be with you!" After smacking his arm again, she got to her feet and stuck a pointed finger into his face. "I'm going to go attempt to fix things for your sorry excuse of parenting skills gone wrong. Don't you dare follow me, got it?"
He pushed her finger out of his face and told her that he did indeed get what she was saying; as she was walking away to chase down their oldest son, he sighed and took a look at the three boys who had just witnessed what had happened, all of them with wide eyes and looking like they were about to cry. "Oh, lovely, it seems that someone forgot that showing violent actions in front of small children can upset them," he called after her, knowing that she wasn't listening. "Maybe I am not the only one here with inadequate parenting skills."
The fact that the other kids would have been hurt by what just happened had never once crossed her mind, as all she really wanted to be sure of was that Andres wasn't hurt as well. She found him where she figured he was going to have gone, the kitchen, where he was washing his dishes off and saying things to himself as he did. "Hey there, sweetie, do you want to talk about what happened?" Being warm and inviting was not something that Heather did very well, but damn did she try when it came to the one of her children that mattered most to her. "Or is this something you're just going to handle on your own? Because I'll let you have it either way."
"I just want him to accept me for how I am," Andres replied, giving a little sniffle as he did. "Don't know how you can make him do that, but it's what I want."
"Yeah, that's not something I can do. Can't exactly go in there and tell him to do something he should already be doing. How about we keep working on you two bonding, and maybe through that he'll accept you. But for that to work, I think you both have to put effort into it, and honestly, running off to come spend time with me, even if I really do appreciate it, isn't going to help your case." Shutting off the water he was using and drying his hands, Andres turned and approached his mom with outstretched arms to give her a hug for her advice, but she stuck her own arm out and stopped him. "Uh, no thanks on the affection tonight. Don't need you stepping on my toes when they're all decorated for tomorrow."
"Tomorrow…right. More cooking and lots of people around here. I can't wait." The sarcasm was evident in his voice, but when he spoke again there was no trace of it. "Hey, wait a second. Can I ask you something, mom?"
"Go for it. As long as it's not anything about how to get out of having to spend more time with your father tomorrow."
"It's not." Although his face was angled towards the floor due to his head still being pushed away by his mom, he was able to point at what he wanted to ask about due to just knowing where it was, as it had been around for as long as he could remember. "Is the hangman puzzle off-limits until people are here tomorrow? Or can we play now?"
It took a moment for Heather to answer, as she had to actually look to the whiteboard on the fridge that had the game on it, just to make sure she knew what the solution was before she gave an incorrect answer. "I think it would be best if we saved that one for tomorrow, kiddo. Pretty sure that it'll be more fun that way."
"Oh, okay, I guess it was worth a shot." Andres backed away and stood up properly, giving his mom a small smile. "Thanks for coming and making sure I was okay. I needed it. Feel kind of bad for doing this on such a big night, but…"
"Trust me, as long as there's still cake and presents later, I don't think Trevin will be too torn up that you sort of made his birthday all about you." Smiling right back at him, she motioned back towards the dining room. "Come on, let's go back and make sure your father hasn't killed your brothers." Even though he didn't want to, the way his mom seemed so happy when she looked at him was enough to get him to agree, and so they went back to a room filled with unexpected laughter that disappeared when they reentered.
But even with all the bumps that day, it was only a prelude for what fairly terrible things were going to follow the following sunrise.
A/N: So my dearest friend who this fic is written for, her birthday was actually on Saturday. Happy (late) birthday, my friend!
Anyway, yeah, I kinda-sorta cliffhanger-ed this. But don't worry! All will be revealed next week in the next chapter. :)