The call came mid-week. To ensure that she reached her son and didn't run the risk of having Shannon answer the phone, Sabrina called Boone's cell instead of the house. She knew she'd have a better chance of getting a 'yes' out of him than the almost certain 'no' she would have received from his wife.
"Boone Carlyle," he answered after snapping the phone open, not bothering to check the call display.
"I know very well whom I've called, Boone." Sabrina characteristically went directly to chastising him instead of returning the greeting. Not a good start when she was about to make a request of him.
Boone sighed and pressed his palm to his forehead, mouthing 'shit' though his teeth. "Hello to you too mother."
She ignored his sarcasm, and got straight to the point, inviting the three of them to a small party on Saturday. Boone declined immediately not understanding why she'd think he'd want to drive all the way into the city just to spend an afternoon with the plastic and snobbish people she deemed her friends. He'd dreaded the command performances she'd demanded from him while Shannon was gone; thankfully they'd stopped on her return. He'd always had a feeling however, that his luck was going to run out one day, and apparently today was that day. Given that Shannon's return a year prior had added yet another chapter to their highly colourful past, he was sure that nothing good would come from exposing themselves to people who wallowed in gossip and were highly judgemental.
"Boone, dear, it's only going to be a few people, just a garden party, very casual, and you can stay the night." There was no tone of pleading in her voice yet, just a simple statement of facts. Sabrina never gave up that easily, though once again he said no.
"It will be a great opportunity for you to promote the business, there will be some very influential people there," Sabrina was starting to get a little annoyed, no one, not even her own son, was permitted to turn her down this many times.
Boone pointed out that they didn't want to do any catering in the city, so what was the point? Sabrina replied that many of the people had country houses and friends with country houses. "And the Jackson's will be here," she slipped in.
"Oh?" Boone was already coming to the realization that he didn't have a snowballs' chance in hell of getting off the phone without agreeing to go.
"Boone, please come," she paused, like a predator with its' prey, she'd sensed him weakening and had added a slight hint of need to her words, closing in for the kill.
Sabrina hesitated at revealing the real reason she wanted them there, desiring to maintain her cold facade and not let the small crack that had wedged itself open almost ten years prior show. She knew that if she told him the truth though, he'd most likely capitulate fairly easily. She played her trump card and told him the motive behind her invitation. "I didn't get to see Andrew on his birthday, you didn't invite me to his party."
"I didn't really think you'd enjoy foosball and video games, mother." Boone pointed out, grinning to himself as he conjured a mental image of Sabrina playing an arcade game with one of Andrews' friends.
"No, I'm sure I wouldn't have," Sabrina actually laughed a bit herself, "Still, you could have invited me for dinner, but you didn't," she threw a bit of guilt into the equation, certain that she'd just guaranteed his acceptance, "so I'd really like to see him this weekend."
Boone immediately felt bad, just as he knew that she knew he would. "Alright," he agreed, begrudgingly. "Just let me check with Shan."
"Why?" She asked sharply, if there was anyone who could get him to change his mind it was Shannon.
"Well, other than the fact that she's my wife, as you just pointed out we have a business. She might have me booked to work this Saturday." Boone rang off, promising to call her back to confirm.
Shannon was not impressed, and Andrew even less so, though both reluctantly admitted that they had nothing specific planned for the weekend, Shannon confirmed that Boone's schedule was clear as well. Still, they both glared at him in the car as he sped west on the highway that Saturday, Andrews' eyes meeting his in the rear view, Shannon turning to give him a flat stare every few miles.
"She guilted me into it," Boone apologized for the umpteenth time.
By the time they reached the estate they'd all agreed to make the best of it, after all Boone pointed out, Sabrina really did want to see her grandson, so you couldn't fault her for that.
Mrs. Simpson greeted them warmly, kissing each; then shooing them upstairs so they could get settled in their rooms and freshen up. The party, she told them, was in full swing in the back yard, most of the guests having already arrived. Sabrina had come to the house twice so far to see if they'd gotten there yet, so they'd be doing her a favour if they got out there sooner rather than later and prevented a third assault.
Sabrina spied them as they crossed the lawn, beckoning them over imperiously and excusing herself from the conversation she was having with a grey haired man whose upper lip sprouted a truly frightening moustache that would have been more fitting on a walrus. Andrew gazed at it in fascination, following the man with a turn of his head as he moved on to another group of partygoers. Boone tugged on his arm to bring his attention back to his grandmother and stop him from staring so rudely.
After kissing each one of them, even Shannon, Sabrina started on Andrew with the grandmotherly observations. "You've grown so much!" At 5'2" he came to just past Boone's shoulder, his final growth spurt wouldn't come for a few years yet. "Your hair's too long." She brushed his bangs out of his eyes.
Andrew batted her hand away, "Sabrina, please?" he protested. In keeping with his usual pattern, he'd always called her by her first name, his teachers the only adults that fell outside those parameters; he even called Mrs. Simpson Karen, something Boone would never have done. Sabrina actually preferred it, not wanting to be reminded that she was a grandmother, besides she thought it sounded very sophisticated.
"Did you get my birthday gift?" She asked.
"Yeah, it's great!" Andrew enthused sincerely. On her employers' behalf, Mrs. Simpson had sent him a three-dimensional wooden jigsaw puzzle of a brachiosaurus, enclosing Sabrina's hand signed gift card with the parcel. Fully assembled the completed puzzle stood over three feet tall, he'd taken almost a week to complete it. There were threaded rods that slid into holes pre-drilled in key places to hold it together for display purposes. Shocking both of her guys, Shannon produced the perfect sized antique wooden spool holder from the attic, on which the model of the extinct creature now stood proudly in one corner of his bedroom. They'd both wondered when the hell, and why, she'd explored the stuffy expanse under the eaves.
Claiming Andrew for her escort, and explaining that she wanted to introduce Boone's gorgeous son to her friends, Sabrina firmly gripped his upper arm and directed him away from his parents.
He spent the next half hour squiring her from group to group, being introduced to people whose names he promptly forgot, keeping his mind carefully shielded from reading their thoughts. Boone had warned him in the car that he might not like what he found if he intruded on their catty musings. As he met the measured stare of several of them while they sized him up, he conceded that his dad certainly knew what he was talking about.
Frank had approached them as soon as Sabrina swept off with her young gentleman on her arm, not wanting to intrude on the family reunion. After a few minutes of conversation, Shannon left to get the two of them drinks, Frank already had a cocktail in his hand. She returned with wine for herself and a club soda for Boone, a small plate with some snacks for him balanced on the top of his glass. He accepted both with an appreciative smile, he'd become more used to the small gestures his wife and son made in their attempt to be more mindful of him.
They were each aware of the glances that were thrown their way, the whispered exchanges, shakes of the head, or controlled derisive laughter that often followed the scrutiny. A few snatches of the more vitriolic thoughts permeated each of their consciousness randomly, their eyes flicking automatically in the direction from which the thought had originated, seeking out the source. Realizing the reason for their distracted behaviour, Frank did his best to keep them focused, finally suggesting the same to the two of them as Boone had to Andrew. Once they'd shielded their minds as well, the tension mostly dissipated from the pair, though they still caught the occasional shift of someone's eyes in their directions.
Pointing out a trio of boys about his own age at the edge of the gathering, Andrew finally pried himself away from his grandmother, using them as an excuse. He made his way over and introduced himself a bit shyly.
It wasn't unintentionally intercepted thoughts, but actual spoken words that proved to be his undoing. Children can be cruel, and none more so than those of parents who view themselves as above others and imprint that impression of superiority on their offspring by freely sharing their opinions of those they consider beneath them.
"They are not! Your father knows from shit!" The fact that he'd become upset striking just before they heard his raised voice, Boone and Shannon had already turned from Frank and were headed in Andrews' direction. They saw him facing off against a boy at least half a head taller than him, Andrews' hands clenching and unclenching into fists by his sides as he fought not to punch the older kid. With effort he spun and walked towards them, his face a mask of misery and fury.
They met halfway, each parent putting a hand on one of his shoulders. "What happened?" Boone asked in a soothing tone.
Andrew shook his head and looked miserably at the ground, "I don't want to say." The other boys were now laughing behind his back, when Shannon shot them a glare that would have stopped a charging polar bear; they fell silent and turned their backs, shuffling their feet nervously.
Andrew replayed the words in his mind, unable to speak them aloud. Boone's shoulder slumped. "Bud, don't listen to them, okay. They don't know me, they don't know us; I don't even know who the kid or his father are."
Andrew raised his face, closer to tears now, "How can they say stuff like that?"
Shannon was just about to answer him when he caught sight of a man blatantly staring at them and shaking his head. In fact each of the four people, in the small group surrounding the guy, was watching them.
His guard down, he caught all of the man's thoughts in full, as well as those of most of the others. "I am not a poor boy! And they aren't bad parents! You don't know us! You don't even know that your own wife's been watching that guy over there, wondering just when…"
Boone grabbed him and yanked him around hard, cutting him short. "Andrew!"
Boone looked at him in horrified astonishment, stunned that the boy had been about to reveal his ability. It was all Andrew had needed push him over the edge. He burst into tears and fled for the house.
Cursing himself for ever having agreed to come in the first place, the guilt already setting in, Boone ran after him.
Shannon stood there watching after them for a moment before following them at a much slower pace, thinking about the pieces she was going to have to pick up, hoping that this wasn't going to send Boone into another black hole.
Boone found him face down on Shannon's old bed sobbing broken-heartedly into the pillow. He rubbed the boy's shoulders, murmuring soothing words. Andrew flipped over and sat up, throwing his arms around Boone's neck, crying wetly against his shoulder. Boone held him and rocked back and forth, trying to calm him.
Shannon watched the two of them from the door then went to sit behind Boone, wrapping her arms around both of them.
"What's going on in here? Why did you cause that scene?" Sabrina's uncaring and demanding voice filled the room.
Shannon turned to her, Boone and Andrew ignoring her completely, she stood. "Apparently one of your 'friends' told his demon spawn exactly what he thought of us, something the little hellion was only too happy to share with your grandson."
"Pfft, they're only words. The boy needs to grow a thicker skin." She dismissed Shannon, and directed her next comment to the bed in a louder tone. "Boone, you're coddling that child. Stop it this instant."
Boone's head jerked around, his mouth hung open in astonishment at her lack of concern. A couple of strangled sounds escaped him as he searched for words to say. "You know what mother? Shut the fuck up! And mind your own goddamned business!"
As stupefied as Sabrina's expression was, Shannon's was almost as astonished, though hers' gave way to a smile as Sabrina's narrowed into anger. Shannon grabbed her arm and hustled her from the room before she could rail back at Boone. She pushed her into the hall and closed the bedroom door softly.
"How dare he?" She tried to push past Shannon and get back into the room. She was no match for the younger woman, especially given the superior physical shape that Shannon was in due to the amount of exercise Boone insisted they all get.
"I'll tell you how he dares. You want to know what the little puke said to Andrew?" Shannon got right up in her step-monster-in-laws face. "He said his father told him that I was a whore, and that Boone was a pussy whipped asshole. He said I was a gold digging bitch and that Boone was a pathetic idiot. He said it was too bad Boone hadn't successfully killed himself and that I came back because, in his opinion, Andrew would have been better off as an orphan." She found her own hands curling into fists as she spat into Sabrina's face. She forced her fingers straight again and, with difficulty, got her breathing back under control. "We're leaving. Once I get them both calmed down we're out of here. And if I have my way we won't ever come back to this place again."
As shocked as Sabrina had been at what Shannon had recounted, some of it wasn't far off her own darkest thoughts. Shannon's threat however, shook her to her core. "You leave here, and never come back, I'm never sending work your way again."
"My men, the two people who mean more to me than anything in the world, are behind that door absolutely devastated, and you threaten me with business?" Shannon was dumbfounded. "Jesus Christ Sabrina! Get your fucking head out of your ass!" With a shake of her head she let herself back into the bedroom.
Sabrina became aware of movement at the door to Boone's room, directly across the hall.
Mrs. Simpson was standing there watching her, a supply of clean towels in her arms. She'd overheard everything, smiling proudly when Boone had told his mother off. "You want any help with that?"
"What?"
"Getting your head out of your ass," she explained calmly.
"You're fired!"
"Second time this month, I'm on a roll," Mrs. Simpson turned from the door and went back to what she was doing, leaving Sabrina standing alone in the hall, wondering just when she'd lost control of her own household.
They were back in the car and on their way home barely two hours after arriving. Andrew was asleep in the back seat; his surge of emotions had completely worn him down.
Shannon was driving; Boone was almost equally as drained as his son, and was continuing to berate himself silently, the spiral of guilt dragging him down.
'Boone you couldn't have known.' She assured him again.
'But I did, don't you see, I knew something was going to happen.' He wouldn't meet her gaze, his head was turned firmly to the side window; his eyes squeezed shut tightly.
'At least you got to tell your mother off.' Shannon pointed out.
'I really don't think that it was worth getting Andrew so upset just so I could get to tell my mother to fuck off.' He drew a shaky breath.
'Actually Boone, you told her to shut the fuck up.' She corrected.
'That's not funny, Shan.' His shoulders started to shake as his own tears began. There was little she could do for him while she was driving, all she wanted at that moment was to get them home and put them to bed.
They were both a little better the next day, Andrew more so than Boone, kids bounced back, but Boone's problems were chronic. He still gamely made it a point to speak to the boy about his lapse in judgement of the day before.
'What were you thinking?' Boone asked when the two of them were seated in the den.
'I wasn't thinking. I was just mad.' Andrew explained.
'Mad or not, you can't do that!' Boone's fear was almost palpable.
"I know that! I'm sorry!" Andrew was getting upset, dragging Boone in with him, the Catch 22, starting all over again.
"Buddy, please, you have to stop and think. If they took you from me, I don't know what I'd do." Images from Firestarter played through his head.
"Boone, you've made me watch that stupid movie at least a dozen times! I know what can happen, and I'm sorry! I'm just a kid and I was mad. Please? When was the last time I did something like that?" Andrew already knew the answer was 'never.'
Sensing Boone's increasing agitation Shannon appeared in the doorway. "Hey guys, what gives?"
Boone took a deep calming breath, "We were just talking about yesterday."
"And you've just finished talking about yesterday," she informed him. "You, my dear, are going to get some exercise. Dr. Rutherford prescribes an hour in the stationary pool, flow set at max. You need to get some of those endorphins into your system." She held her hand out for him and pulled him to his feet. Turning him towards the door, she gave him a little push.
They watched while he exited. Shannon turned to the boy. "That was really stupid, you know, what you did." She stated in an ordinary tone, much as if she was commenting on a nice wallpapering job.
"I know." He admitted, his mood changing from upset to sheepish, just as she'd intended.
'One down, one to go,' she thought to herself, hoping Boone's exercise would up it to two for two.
"So just what was that woman wondering about that guy?" She asked with a sly grin.
Boone's mood was decidedly better after his swim, and improved even more after he got a call from his mother later that day when she phoned to apologize. Stunned to complete physical and verbal immobility, he simply stood there with the phone still pressed to his ear, his mouth hanging open; the dial tone buzzing loudly from the disconnected line.
Shannon took the receiver from his hand and settled it in its cradle while he crossed to the window and looked at the sky positive that he'd see a rain of Persians and Pekinese falling to the ground.
He was certain that hell must have frozen over, pigs must have sprouted wings, and it must be raining cats and dogs. If the day had finally come that Sabrina Carlyle had actually accepted the blame for something and apologized for it, then every single cliché ever coined must truly have become reality.