Authoress Note: Sorry for the super long delay. I've been really busy with the job I hate more than anything, and with the doing fun things that help me forget just how much I hate my job. Plus this chapter went through like 8 versions before I ended up with something that made any sense at all. Thank you for your patience.
"Well should we call him?" Topanga asked Shawn and Cory, "It's 6:45 we have rapidly closing window of opportunity here."
"I don't think it's a good idea. You heard him in the car this morning Topanga," Shawn said reasonably, "His parents don't like us, if he's in trouble, and we know he is, one of us calling will make it worse."
"Hey kids," Chloe appeared over them, "Why so down?" she shook Shawn's shoulder, "Have you eaten yet?"
"Not yet. We're still wondering if we should call Minkus," Shawn answered.
"Hell, call everyone. This has become a party! Have him bring his family," Chloe said raising her glass to all of them and wandering over to where Jack was, with considerable apprehension, watching Eric suck down his fourth margarita.
Not unusually for the Lawrence home, dinner had become more interesting than had been originally planned. Topanga had invited Shawn to dinner and Shawn had called Cory to tell him this would be a great chance to see what could happen with Topanga. Jack and Eric had been invited when Shawn called Topanga back to say Cory was coming, and then Chloe had thought they might as well invite all the Matthew's and had called Amy and Alan. From there most of the neighbors had been invited and now dinner with the Lawrence's had become the social event of the season.
"Well, I had better go eat before your mom brings me a giant plate of food and a strawberry daiquiri," Shawn sat getting up from the patio furniture table. "Calling Minkus? Yes or no?"
"You're right we'd better not risk it tonight," Topanga said sighing and taking a sip of her own daiquiri.
"Alright then, there's a tofu steak over there just a-calling my name, I'll be back." Shawn said.
"Yeah I need another... hunk of bean putty," Cory said standing up to follow Shawn. Shawn nudged him surreptitiously.
"What was that?" Cory asked out loud. Shawn rolled his eyes.
"Should we grab you anything?" he asked Topanga.
"If there's still taboulee?"
"Sure thing."
"What the hell are you doing man?" Shawn hissed as soon as they were out of earshot.
"Getting another pretend steak, I'm hungry."
"Let me try this again," Shawn groaned, "If Minkus isn't coming tonight at all, and Topanga is sitting alone at a party, what the hell are you doing following me to the buffet table?"
"Shit," Cory turned around and Shawn grabbed his arm.
"You can't go now man, come to the table with me and grab her some taboulee."
"I don't even know what taboulee is!" Cory exclaimed.
Shawn shot him a look as they got to the buffet table, grabbed a plate, scooped a spoonful of middle eastern wheat salad onto it and handed it to Cory with a sigh.
"This is Topanga man, you need to chill out. You already screwed up by insulting the food and not offering to get her something."
"Shawn, maybe this isn't a good idea, I mean, Minkus told me this morning that he likes Topanga. It's hardly good barbeque manners to stab one friend in the back by making a move on the other," Cory dithered.
"Dammit Cor," Shawn groaned, "You and Minkus have had 7 years to make a move on Topanga. Minkus has 4 more years, and you have 3 more days. Like Topanga said, it's a rapidly closing window of opportunity."
"Yeah, exactly. I have three days. Maybe it's best if I don't try anything. I mean, I don't want to do this big spazzy thing right before she leaves for more than 2 months."
"Better to have loved and lost man, better to have loved and lost."
"Hey guys!" Eric cried, collapsing onto Cory and Shawn's shoulders and holding himself up between them, "Why so ser'us?"
"You having a good time, Eric?" Shawn asked in a loud, slow, talking-to-drunks voice.
"You know what I really am. I really really am." He giggled as Cory and Shawn tried not to laugh at him. Jack appeared at Shawn's side.
"Hey, buddy?" Jack said to Eric, "Mr. Lawrence is making a pot of coffee, why don't you come inside with me and get a cup?"
"Jack," Eric said grabbing Jack's face drunkenly, "Jack, it's too hot for coffee," he gave a Shawn and Cory a what-is-he-crazy sort of look, "You should have a margarita!"
"How about we have an ice coffee?" Jack tried.
"Oooookay then," Eric laughed lurching toward Jack, who caught him, rolled his eyes at Cory and Shawn and half carried him to the house.
"Well, that gives me my excuse to disappear," Shawn said, "You take Topanga her taboulee, and I shall just have to leave you two alone while I go inside and sober up my roommate."
"What do I say to her?" Cory demanded in a panicky voice.
"Cor, calm down. It's Topanga. You guys have always been able to talk. Deep breath man."
And with that Shawn headed into the house after Jack and Eric and Cory continued to stand irresolute at the buffet table.
Topanga watched Jack haul Eric into the house and Shawn follow them, leaving Cory, looking confused, standing with plate in hand. She wondered vaguely what he and Shawn had gone to the table to talk about . Sometimes they were worse than girls disappearing to chat in the restroom. She'd miss that. Cory seemed to have come sort of decision now. He was walking toward her. But suddenly he wasn't in his worn bowling shirt and jeans, he was in a tux, with a corsage, grinning at her. Topanga shook her head. Cory was normal again. He sat down and handed her a plate.
"Here ya go," he said in a wierd tone.
"Thanks," She replied reaching out for it. She stared at her arm. Her arms should have been bare, but she was inexplicably wearing Cory's old jean jacket. The one he'd given to Lauren when he'd broken up with her because of the distance. Topanga grabbed the plate and her arms were bare again. She set the plate down carefully on the table and pushed her daiquiri away firmly.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Dinner at the Minkus's was as different from dinner at the Lawrence's as it was possible to be. Mrs. Minkus had served their steamed asparagus and duck a la orange from good china and then carefully perched herself at one end of the table. The atmosphere was silent and cold.
"Well, Stewart," his father began seriously from the other end, "I think you owe us an explanation. Where were you last night?"
"Edgar Waltman called yesterday evening. He's going to be a senior and he's taking over the chess club at John Adams this year. He needed some help organizing the meeting schedule so I went over to his house to give him a hand. It got late and I know how you don't like me being out at night so I just stayed there." Minkus had worked out the whole story, complete with what he and Edgar had for dinner and exactly how the chess club was going to function next year, while he had done his chore.
His mother pursed her lips, "I talked to Mrs. Waltman this morning at the grocery store. You are lying."
Shit. There went that, Minkus thought. Hopefully Mrs. Waltman hadn't mentioned chess club. Minkus had actually dropped out in the 9th grade and hadn't talked to Edgar Waltman since.
"Stewart are you on drugs?" His father demanded sternly.
"No, Father." he said apathetically. He was asked this question at least once week, usually in response to him doing something catastrophic like forgetting to fold his clothes or leaving a book on the coffee table. He barely reacted to it anymore.
"Well," his mother huffed, just like she did every time he answered this question, "You can't blame us for wondering the way you've been acting. Especially with those hooligans you associate with. Why can't you play with some of the nice boys on our street?"
Minkus's blood stirred just a little at this. He was 18. He wasn't arranging "play-dates". And more importantly there were three "nice boys" his age on this street and they were all worse than scum. Michael Kinley made and sold meth, Jonathan Albrectson was a white supremacist with Nazi flags in his room, and Edgar Waltman's mother would've been appalled to find out it was well known that her darling little chess club president had gone to one of his brother's fraternity keggers, slipped a mickey in a girl's drink and raped her.
He began to carefully slice his duck. He had less than a week before he moved, he reminded himself. He shouldn't push buttons. He should just play along and try to stay out of trouble. Just because he was 18 and leaving for college in a matter of days didn't mean his mother wouldn't ground him. He couldn't lose these last days with his friends. But nevertheless he heard himself snarling "My friends aren't hooligans, Mother."
"Don't take that tone with your mother, Stewart," his father snapped, "I remember that Shawn character. He'll end up being someone's cell mate before he's twenty-five."
Minkus clenched his teeth. He wasn't going to rise to this. If he played his cards right he might still get out of trouble. Blowing up at his father about something he'd said about Shawn himself (although in a loving, teasing way not his fathers arrogant, judgmental tone) wasn't going to help him.
"And the Lawrence girl!" His mother refused to use her first name, "Well, we'll see how long she lasts before the drugs get to her and then she'll probably spend the rest of her life in a trailer somewhere smoking cannabis with her illegitimate children."
Minkus dug his nails into his palm and began to mentally repeat "moving this weekend, moving this weekend, moving this weekend".
"And I don't like you being around that Cory Matthews either. With his disgusting condition and all"
Minkus tried to clench his jaw and try to ignore her again, but that was it, she had crossed a serious line and Minkus snapped.
"Shut up!" He growled.
His father had been raising a bite of asparagus to his mouth. His fork hung frozen in front of his still open mouth.
"What did you just say young man?" His mother demanded.
"Shut the hell up!" Minkus yelled louder jumping to his feet.
"Stewart Augustus Minkus!" His mother shrilled.
"Would this be the same "disgusting condition" you drove your other son out of the house for?" Minkus raged, "The "disgusting condition" that made you treat him like he was less than human?" Minkus banged his fist on the table so hard the silverware clattered and his own fork fell off the table.
"You sit yourself down right now young man," His father starting, also standing up.
"Fuck You! " Minkus could here himself screaming now, still not quite believing that he was actually talking this way to his parents. His legs were shaking and his heart was pumping so hard he was sure it would burst right out of his chest soon enough. Somewhere in his raging mind he hoped that when it did it would stain his mother's precious carpet, "Fuck you!" his mother gave a horrified squeak as he repeated it, "You know what? You have no children anymore! I'm disowning you! I'm moving to Connecticut in three days and you will never see me again! I'm going to spend next summer with Nigel and his boyfriend " his father shuddered "and you will never fucking see me again!" he spun around to leave the dining room and threw his chair to the ground as he passed it. It landed with a satisfying crack.
"Stewart!" His mother called in shock. Minkus spun back around.
"And another thing," He growled, "Even if everything you said about Cory and Topanga and Shawn was true, they'd still be my best friends, and the three of them have always been a better family than you two ever were," and with that he stormed out of the dining room.
"Stewart!" His father called but Minkus didn't even turn his head as he shrieked "Goodbye!" and kept walking.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Eric hadn't made it to the coffee. Shawn and Jack had just managed to get him to the bathroom before he got violently ill and now all three boys were in the bathroom, Eric bent over the toilet, Jack holding up the seat and patting him on the back comfortingly and Shawn next to the small window spying on Cory and Topanga.
The window was open just far enough so that when Eric wasn't vomiting Shawn could hear Cory and Topanga talking and laughing.
"Looks like it's working," Shawn said in a sing-song voice.
"What's working?" Jack asked.
"Ah, Little Cory is talking to Topanga," Shawn said to him.
"So?" Jack sighed, "Cory is always talking to Topanga."
"Ahh, yes, but he's going to make his move tonight," Shawn said.
"Wait, Cory likes Topanga? I thought you liked Topanga."
"No I used to like Topanga, and now we're just good friends, Cory likes Topanga."
"I thought Cory liked you." Eric said lifting his head and managing a couple of deep breaths before throwing up again.
"Shut up Eric." Shawn sighed trying to find an angle that let him see Cory and Topanga better.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
The barbeque was beginning to thin out. Most of the neighbors had gone home and Jedidiah was starting to clean up around the yard.
Topanga laughed, "I don't believe you," she told Cory lightly.
"I swear it's the truth. That little cafe downtown is totally a mob front. Shawn and I worked for them one Christmas."
"You worked for the mob?" Topanga said still laughing.
"What? I'm dangerous missy. I could be packing right now."
Topanga rolled her eyes, "Cory, what have I told you about calling me missy?"
"Sorry," Cory grinned apologetically.
The two of them lapsed into a small silence, more noticeable now that the party had quieted down so much. Cory swallowed. Topanga's hand was resting on the table, not far from his own. All he had to do was reach out, move his hand a couple of inches, and grab Topanga's hand. Then she'd know right? That was like, Cory's signature move it was romantic, but sweet and innocent at the same time. He lifted his fingers off the table, praying his hands weren't sweaty, but sure they were, it was hot and he was nervous... and then-
"Wait, since when is Cory into Topanga?" Jack's voice floated down to them.
"Since when is Cory not completely in love with Topanga?" Shawn's voice answered.
Cory looked up and saw the open bathroom window, then looked at Topanga. She'd heard it too. She was staring at him, with a wierd expression on her face, her lips were parted, but her mouth wasn't exactly hanging open, the whites of her eyes were visible, but she wasn't wide eyed. She looked surprised but not shocked.
"Topanga-" Cory started, unable to read her expression and unsure what to do.
"Cory-" She cut him off, still looking at him with the same strange expression.
"Topanga!" Someone cried from behind Cory. Topanga's eyes slid from Cory to the speaker.
"Stewart!" She said a little breathlessly, "What are you doing here? We thought you were grounded?" She stood up and started toward him, Cory turned around. Minkus was white faced and shaking,his faceglistenedwith sweat.
"Stewart? What's the matter?" Topanga asked, her voice full of concern.
"I swore at my parents," Minkus said as though in disbelief, "I swore at them and told them that they weren't my family and they'd never see me again!"
Topanga stared at him in complete shock before grabbing him in a hug, unsure of any other way to react to that sort of news. Minkus slowly wrapped an arm around her back.
"I disowned my parents," He said in the same awestruck tone as Topanga ushered him over to the table where Cory was still sitting.
"Is there anything we can get you?" Topanga asked.
"Water?" Minkus said unsurely.
"I'll go grab some," Cory said, glad for an excuse to get away from Topanga.
Shawn was walking out of the kitchen as Cory walked into it.
"Cory! What happened?"
"What happened?" Cory spat, grabbing Shawn by the elbow and pulling into the kitchen.
"You happened Shawn! I was talking to Topanga it was going great, I was about to grab her hand and what do we hear but a little birdy announcing that I'm in love with her." Cory growled grabbing a glass from Topanga's cupboard and filling it with water.
Shawn covered his mouth with his hand, "Oh no, you could hear us?"
"Yeah Shawn. I heard you, Topanga heard you and then Minkus showed up shaking because he just threw himself out of his house. So I'm in here getting him water while she hugs him, right after hearing your big news." Cory started back out to the yard with Shawn behind him.
"I'm so sorry man, I'm so sorry," Shawn whispered as they walked out the kitchen door.
Minkus, Topanga, Jedidiah, Chloe and Amy and Alan Matthews were all gathered around the table listening to Minkus who had evidently just finished telling his story to all of them.
"You poor thing," Chloe said, pulling Minkus into a motherly hug, "You know you're more than welcome to stay here. We'll set up Nebula's room for you."
"Yeah, Stewart. When you get settled down you can make us a list and Chloe and I will go over to your house and pick up all your stuff," Jedidiah chimed in.
"And if you need a bigger vehicle to carry everything up to Yale you can borrow the mini-van," Alan added in.
"Thanks." Minkus said in a faraway voice, "Seriously, thank you all so much, but umm.." He passed a hand across his forehead and exhaled deeply, "I think right now I just want to go lie down and be alone for a while."
"Of course sweetheart," Chloe said, "Topanga why don't you take him up to Nebula's room?"
"Yeah," Topanga said wrapping an arm around the still shocked boy and standing up with him.
"Here you go, man" Cory said to Minkus, handing him his water as he walked past.
"Thanks buddy," Minkus said to him.
"Feel better man," Shawn said. Minkus nodded shakily and as they passed Topanga looked back at Cory and gave him a look that about half and hour later Shawn and Cory were talking about in Cory's room, where Cory insisted it was a pity look and Shawn tried to convince him it was apologetic.