Even though Boone's car was worth just under two-hundred-thousand dollars he felt like he'd just shown up at a Ferrari owners' gathering in a Kia, the open garage door of a huge hanger like building just to the right of the main structure revealed a staggering array of vintage and grossly expensive automobiles. The home itself brought to mind the fabled Tara of Gone with the Wind fame, though he thought that this place was quite possibly even grander.
He looked down at the blue grey of his sweater, topped by a buttery soft black leather blazer that Shannon had surprised him with on a whim, dark wash jeans and freshly polished (thank god) motorcycle boots and felt decidedly underdressed. Shannon fared a little better in his estimation in a beaded turquoise halter-top and flippy short denim skirt. He'd winced when he'd seen the three-hundred dollar receipt for it, but couldn't deny the hot liquid feeling he'd gotten in the pit of his stomach when she'd modelled it for him. At least her flat, strappy Bass sandals had been a more modest price. She firmly eschewed high heels in her personal time. Andrew had, in the current fashion trend, dressed exceedingly yuppie, something that amused Boone greatly. He had on beige khakis, a white oxford button down and Doc Martens.
As Boone pulled the car to a halt, Andrew perked up in the back seat, opening the car door the second the vehicle came to a full stop.
"You didn't tell me it was Frank, Boone." He had the door open and was crossing the interlocking brick of the huge esplanade fronting the house before Boone even switched off the ignition.
"Wouldn't remember the guy, eh asswipe?" Shannon commented as they got out of the car, thinking of his dismissal of her supposition after they'd received the invitation.
Boone shrugged easily, "Guess I was wrong."
The door opened just as Andrew reached it, "Frank!" he greeted happily.
They exchanged a few pleasantries, Andrew quickly becoming aware that Frank already knew their secret, just as he'd guessed Frank's years before. By the time that Boone and Shannon gained the sprawling deck of the enormous wrap around porch he was already fully engaged in a one-way verbal exchange.
"What the fuck is he doing?" she grabbed Boone by the upper arm and spun him to face her, alarmed by Andrew's behaviour.
"He knows, about us I mean," Boone told her, recalling the guy as soon as he saw him, remembering the short conversation on Sabrina's patio after the Thanksgiving dinner over five years previously.
"And just how the fuck did that happen? He said he'd only met you briefly. What'd you do, walk around with a sandwich board on while I was gone?" She demanded.
"Shan, come on, it's just one guy, don't exaggerate." Boone protested.
Frank and Andrew had stopped talking and were watching them now.
"And, besides, how do you know it wasn't something Andrew did and not me?" Boone asked.
"Because he's smarter than you are, and smooth move bonehead, blaming it on a kid." She sneered.
Frank spoke up at that point, a particularly brave move Andrew thought, though the guy didn't know how sharp Shannon's claws could be. "Actually it was something Andrew said."
"Was I talking to you? Please excuse me. I thought I was talking to my idiot brother." She was in full rant mode now, not caring that she was speaking to a client. She dismissed him and turned back to Boone, though from her next words, she'd heard what Frank had said. "So the kid said something that gave him away. Great parenting skills you've got there loser, you couldn't even teach him to keep his ability a secret?"
Boone's shoulders slumped in defeat, even when he wasn't wrong, somehow he still was. He couldn't resist getting in one more shot however. "You're one to question my parenting skills, seeing as you left me to raise him all by myself."
Andrew figured it had gone far enough at that point. Thinking it was about to get ugly, he stopped them. "Guys, we're guests here, you really want to do this?"
They glared at each other one more time then both shook their heads reluctantly.
'Fuckhead,' she shot at him silently.
'Bitch,' he responded.
Seeing that Shannon had run out of steam, Frank took a chance that it was okay for him to speak this time, and properly greeted each one of them. "I'm a tiny bit gifted myself," he explained the reason he knew their secret, "but nothing anywhere near Boone and Andrew, or yourself," he added, "…from what I saw you display at your office."
When her eyes widened in astonishment, he explained that he'd gotten a sense of her using her talent when she'd verified that Boone was in his kitchen during their meeting in her office.
Boone opened his mouth, intending on making an 'in your face' comment to her, and then prudently reconsidering when she shot him a look clearly daring him to try it.
Andrew pushed himself off the doorframe, where he'd been lounging since they'd started fighting, and then Frank led them into the living room, closing the front door before leaving the foyer.
The trio were an instant hit with the identically numbered amount of people in the cavernous, yet somehow welcoming room. Alicia took one look at Boone and all but started drooling. Shannon's seemingly endless dancers' legs had Todd, Alicia's fiancé, a bit google eyed and Rene, Franks' wife, a hopeful but still unrewarded grandmother, became completely smitten with Andrew. Much to his embarrassment she pinched his cheek and kissed him soundly, ruffling his mop of blonde hair roughly. Boone rescued him from further humiliation by reaching out and grabbing his shoulder, pulling the boy back against his legs. That the typically grandmotherly reaction was something that his son had never experienced left Boone more than a little sorry for the kid, and a little for himself as well. He reflected again that Sabrina certainly deserved the 'Ice Queen' nickname with which Shannon had awarded her.
They sat and a member of the household staff took their drink order, returning quickly with the beverages and a large platter of hors d'oeuvres. Andrew checked with his dad and, after Boone scoped out the selection, received permission, leaning forward eagerly to fill a plate with a selection of the offerings. He was going through a growth spurt and was constantly famished. Noticing how good everything looked Shannon helped herself to a few things as well.
The conversation inevitably turned to the upcoming nuptials, so Frank offered to show them the back yard. The three of them followed the man through the house, the others electing to remain behind. The manicured and landscaped expanse that was revealed once an elaborate pair of French doors was thrown open could only marginally qualify as a 'back yard,' Shannon was reminded of the one time she'd viewed the grounds at Versailles during her stint in France.
An outdoor kitchen set-up of three stainless steel gas barbecues, several fridges, double sink and work counters drew Boone in like a magnet. He ran his hand covetously over each of the shining silver hoods in turn, opening the last.
"These are magnificent." He commented, while acknowledging to himself regretfully that it would be overkill for his own back yard.
"You're certainly welcome to use them the day of the reception." Frank advised him.
Still holding the lid of the grille half open, Boone turned to Shannon, "Any idea what I'm making that day?"
"Paella," she was surveying the gorgeous pool area, then flinched as she pictured Boone getting too close to the water and stumbling into it, in his usual clumsy fashion. She was already getting mad at him for ruining his new leather coat, though she'd only just imagined the accident; he actually hadn't done anything…yet.
The lid shut with a loud clang, "What?" He demanded, an edge to his voice.
"Paella," she repeated, frowning at him, not understanding his obvious distress. He'd made it for them at home several times, the fact of which she now reminded him.
The fight started immediately as Boone strode angrily across the brick patio that separated him from his wife.
'They'll be at it for a while,' Andrew advised Frank, drawing him off to one side.
"They do this a lot?" Frank watched the two impossibly pretty people alternately yell and gesture silently at one another, both clearly furious.
'No, usually they either do it all out loud, or all in their heads, depending on whether we're alone or not. I guess they're mixing it up because they're confused, what with you knowing about us and all.' Andrew indulged himself by continuing the conversation in the same fashion as he had at the front door on learning of Frank's awareness of their ability.
Frank chuckled at the boy's misunderstanding of his question. "No, I mean fight." He found it highly amusing and unusual that, in under an hour, the pair had argued twice while out at a social engagement in the home of a virtual stranger and business client as well.
'All the time,' Andrew told him offhandedly, with a bit of an eye roll. 'If they weren't fighting, I'd think that someone had snuck duplicates in. They've been fighting since they were kids; I guess it just comes naturally.' Frank's non-reaction to Shannon's earlier comment about Boone being her brother had clearly indicated that he knew about their multi-layered relationship.
"You seem not only remarkably unaffected by it, but much, much older than you obviously are." Frank observed, amused by the boy's taciturn acceptance of his parent's bickering.
'I'm used to it, and they do love each other though.' He was a bit insulted on his parents' behalf and stood up for them, wondering how this guy got off judging them when he didn't even know them. 'And I'll be ten in a couple of weeks,' Andrew told his age a bit indignantly, moving into double digits a source of pride to him.
Frank remembered having to delay the wedding date and put two and two together, "June 23rd?"
'No, the 21st,' Andrew corrected, 'but we're having the party on the 23rd, we're going to an indoor/outdoor gaming park.' His enthusiasm overriding his momentary pique, he bounced a little up and down in excitement, clearly no more than just an anticipatory nine year old suddenly. "There's rock climbing and a go-kart track, and…and…lots more," he enthused, eyes flashing. "Boone said I could try everything I wanted." He shot an adoring glance at his dad, who, just then, had his index finger shaking scant inches from Shannon's nose. He told Frank about several of the other attractions excitedly.
"Sounds like fun." Frank commented, chuckling a bit at both Andrew and the still arguing couple. Andrew nodded.
"So, I'm curious." He said casually. "I though you'd inherited your talent from your father, but your mother has it too and she's not blood related to him at all. How did all this happen?"
Andrew told him about the plane crash.
"Lots of people are in plane crashes and don't end up telepathic," Frank observed.
Andrew tried to explain about the island. He'd only been three months old at the time of rescue but oddly could picture the place like he'd actually lived there for the entire year they'd been stranded and at times could feel its' life blood running through his veins like a syrupy fire. "I can't explain why, none of us can, but it's why we're like we are." He glanced at his parents; they were kissing. "They're done," he announced, glad to get a reprieve from that particular topic of conversation.
Frank looked up to see Boone pulling away from Shannon, his hand cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking across her cheekbone, a loving smile on each of their faces. They were the most mercurial people he'd ever met, he decided. He resolved to rekindle the discussion about this mysterious island at the first opportunity.
"So, is Alicia going to get her paella?" Frank asked.
Boone looked a little sheepish, "Yeah, she is. I just…I get a little freaked out every time Shannon agrees to have me make something different. Though I should be used to it by now, seeing as it's one of the signatures of the company." They'd discussed different hooks before they'd started the business, thinking that they wanted to do a little something extra to attract customers, and had decided to consider all special requests, while still honouring his unique focus. "I've got lots of other great ideas to go along with it, too." He was starting to look a bit antsy, and kept glancing at the open French doors.
Shannon could tell that he was just dying to get his thoughts down on paper as soon as possible. "Well then I guess we better get back inside so you can scribble your brilliance down before your brain reaches its' maximum storage capacity. You think you can manage to walk and remember everything at the same time?"
Frank quickly led them back inside before yet another fight sparked. He figured if he went inside right now and looked up snarky in the dictionary, he wouldn't have been the slightest bit surprised to see a picture of Shannon Rutherford.