AN: I apologize if I'm not very responsive these days. Thanks so much to jonesybites and teradanielle for the reviews. I don't think I got back to either of you because it's been so crazy lately, but I did appreciate the feedback very much. Thank you, thank you, thank you! As for a time frame for this story, I was thinking about a year after Marcus and Carlos meet, so when Marcus is eleven I believe, and Dom is nine? Marcus and Carlos are probably in late grade-school/early middle school.
Hope you all have a happy Thanksgiving!
PS - One should not attempt to post a chapter while half asleep. It might end up getting added to the wrong story...my bad.
Dom tugged at the knot of his bow tie, trying to loosen it around his neck. He was being delivered by his mother to the front door of the Fenix Estate, pre-wrapped in a hand-me-down suit Carlo had once worn in a relative's wedding. Even though Carlo had been nine when the suit was purchased, it felt restrictive on Dom's stockier frame, even though the legs and arms were a bit too long. Dom still had some of his baby fat in his face and...everywhere else. His brother often teased him about it, and his mother had a habit of pinching his cheek. Dom wasn't sure which annoyance he found harder to bear, but he knew for sure neither helped the fact that he rarely fit into Carlos's hand-me-downs, which unfortunately made up most of his wardrobe.
"Remember, hijo. Don't talk with food in your mouth," his mother instructed, rattling off the list of last-minute instructions she always gave her boys whenever they went out into 'polite company.' The list never changed; it didn't matter if they were going to grandma's house or off to an officer's ball to hang out with high ranking government officials and state congressmen. She machine-gunned through each item while down on one knee in front of him, licking her fingers and trying once again to neaten his naturally-kinked dark hair. Unless the barber buzzed his hair down next to his scalp, Dom always had a little bit in the front that liked to kick upward. "And make sure you thank Mr. and Mrs. Fenix profusely before you come home."
With one last pat on his head, his mother straightened up and rang the bell—triggering a deep, echoing sound from inside the giant house that put the high-pitched ding-dong of all lesser door bells to shame.
Dom sighed. Why did he let Carlos talk him into this? There was no way this would be anywhere near as much fun as going to a car show with his brother and father.
Dom had visited Marcus's house before, so it didn't surprise him when Lita, the cleaning lady, answered the door. It took his mother back a little, however. Eva Santiago would never in a million years dream of allowing anyone to greet a friend of one of her sons on her behalf.
"I'm sorry, is Mrs. Fenix here?" his mother asked, eyes slightly narrowed in confusion with a bit of suspicion thrown in. Obviously she didn't like this at all. She had a tight grip on Dom's shoulder, as though reluctant to turn him over to the care of these people.
Dom could feel his cheeks turning pink. "It's okay, mom," he said, ducking his head in embarrassment.
"Mrs. Fenix will be going straight to the event from her office in the city," Lita said, trying to sooth and smooth over the failings of her employers. Even at such a young age, Dom could tell it wasn't an easy or comfortable thing for her to do. Even though her voice was calm and soothing, she wrung her hands together and shifted from foot to foot. "Mr. Fenix was away on business. His flight came in late and he still has not arrived home. He should be here shortly, if you'd like to wait?"
"I would like to wait," Eva said, and from the sound of it she had a thing or two to say to Mr. Fenix when she did see him.
"Mom!" Dom hissed. His mother had a habit of getting carried away with things, and he did NOT want to be embarrassed in front of Mr. Fenix. The man was creepy, and he could only image what the humiliation would do to Marcus.
Before they could start to argue, Marcus appeared at Lita's elbow. "Mrs. Santiago, it's so good to see you!" Marcus said, slipping so easily into his high-society facade manners. "I really appreciate Dom joining me this evening. I'll do my best to make sure he has a good time. Is there a specific time he should be home? Of course, he's welcome to spend the night."
A spark of envy flared up in Dom while he watched Marcus deal with his mother. And deal with her he did. Soon she was heading off, smiling genially and waving good-bye. What sort of kid could turn on a completely different personality like that? It seemed so fake, so wrong.
And damned handy.
"Your mom's nice," Marcus commented while they climbed the steps together, heading up to Marcus's room.
Carlos says your mom's never around. Dom thought it, but didn't say it. Over the years his brother had driven the point home that he should keep his mouth shut when he thought things like that, and so he did.
"We like her well enough, I guess," Dom agreed, although in truth he didn't like her very much at all at the moment. Dom's suit was so restrictive he practically had to waddle up the stairs like an absurdly large penguin. He dreaded what might happen if he sat down. Why did his mother make him wear this stupid thing? He had a pair of decent slacks and a shirt that actually fit, but his mother worried it wouldn't be 'fancy' enough attire.
"You'll look great in this, Dom," she'd said when she drew Carlos's suit from the closet with a flourish.
Dom suspected she just wanted the satisfaction of getting a few more miles out of the overly-expensive garment. Carlos had only worn it once or twice.
Glancing over at his stoic host, Dom noted Marcus didn't appear much more comfortable in his own suit, but it was an internal sort of discomfort. The tailored pants and blazer he wore fit him like a glove, which meant they had been made very recently. Marcus was growing at least a quarter of an inch a week. He'd caught up with Carlos in height and then left him in the dust months ago.
"Are there going to be other kids at this party?" Dom asked. It seemed like a safe enough question, but he noted disgust flashed across Marcus's face.
"Unfortunately."
"Are they mean?"
Dom had to wait for an answer. Marcus thought it over before he finally said, "It's not that they're mean. Not like kids at school—it's more subtle. Dad says they're just jealous. Our parents are all competing for grant money and it spills over onto the kids sometimes."
That sounded complicated. Dom found himself secretly glad his father worked as a mechanic instead of a weapons researcher or a professor.
"Funny thing is," Marcus continued. "The way their parents act, you'd never know they hated us."
Dom could tell that knowledge weighed heavily on Marcus, even though it was his parents who'd earned the ire of those people.
"I don't hate you," Dom offered very matter-of-factly, feeling he should try to lift the older boy's spirits.
One corner of Marcus's mouth hitched up, and what a relief it was to see that. Dom had wondered if he'd get along with Marcus without Carlos around. Now he knew he could. If Dom could make someone smile, he could get along with them.
"Thanks, Dom. That...means a lot."
The two boys entered Marcus's bedroom, and Dom couldn't help it when his mouth fell open. The room was huge.
"You have this all to yourself!"
"Yeah," Marcus admitted. The way he said it made it sound like it wasn't so great. Like he felt ashamed.
"This is amazing. It's bigger than half my house! And you don't have to share it at all." Dom had grown up with Carlos tripping over him. He couldn't even imagine having a bedroom of his own. Up until a few years ago he even had to share a bed with his brother.
Marcus had a heavy mahogany four-poster bed, with each post extending six feet above the mattress, forming a box that one could potentially hang curtains from. If Dom had a bed like that, he'd climb all over it. He'd sit on the box above the bed, and maybe even put down thick plywood over the cross beams and make it his very own fort.
Oh, the things Dom would do with Marcus's room. It didn't even look like a kid lived here. The walls were bare of posters. No clothes lay scattered across the floor. Not even a pocket knife or change or gum or anything at all on the dresser. The only thing resembling a toy was an antique chess set with beautiful hand-carved crystal chess pieces on a small coffee table between two leather chairs. Each chess piece rested in its proper place, as if waiting to play, except Dom couldn't image anyone playing with them. It looked like they'd been there forever, except each was carefully dusted and polished.
"Do you ever jump on your bed?" Dom asked. The top of the mattress was at his chest level, so high he'd have to climb up onto it. The king sized bed was perfectly made, covered with a pale blue quilt that extended out like a glass-smooth sea, entirely devoid of the bumpy waves breaking up the covers on Dom's bed at home.
"No, but you can if you want."
Normally Dom would've leaped at the invitation, but the restrictiveness of his suit prevented him from taking advantage. He heaved a disappointed sigh.
Marcus nudged him in passing. "Come on," he said. "I have something that'll fit you better."
"I doubt it," Dom said, but he followed along anyway. "I mean, look how skinny you are, man. I'll bet you were never like me."
"We'll see," Marcus said cryptically, leading the way into his closet, which was approximately the size of the room Dom shared with Carlos, but considering his host's earlier embarrassment when Dom pointed out the size of his bedroom, Dom kept that observation to himself.
An entire wall of the enormous closet was dedicated to suits ranging from toddler-sized to the same size Marcus currently wore. Like everything else in the house, they were completely free of dust and had been hung up with military neatness and precision. There were more suits present than Dom had ever seen in his life, including in a store. There were literally hundreds of them, and they were all high quality, probably costing thousands of dollars a piece. Marcus had more money wrapped up in his wardrobe than the Santiago family had in their entire budget.
"Why do you keep all these?" Dom asked, bewildered. The second he outgrew anything, his mother found some boy down the street who could use bigger clothes.
Marcus shrugged. "My parents always talked about having another kid. They just never got around to it. Either way it's a little silly, since they probably would've bought all new clothes anyway, even if it was a boy." Making his way down the line, Marcus paused a little more than halfway down, sifting through the rack, flipping through while eyeballing Dom for reference.
"I'm one size below Carlos," Dom admitted. He couldn't stop staring at that perfectly even line of blazers. It was all he could do to keep his mouth from hanging open.
Marcus gave a brief shake of his head. "They don't have tags."
Of course they don't. Why would a tailor-made suit need a size tag?
"Here we go." Marcus pulled a charcoal colored suit from the rack, handing it to Dom. "Try that one. And these."
Dom found his arms laden with the charcoal suit, and a navy blue one and a black one. They covered a size range that would likely fit him, height-wise anyway. Marcus exited the closet, pulling the door closed behind him so Dom could change in private.
When Dom emerged from the closet, he was decked out in dark grey slacks, an off-white silk shirt and a matching blazer. Most shocking of all, he was actually comfortable. He could bend and move without restriction. The arms and legs were still a tad too long, but even so the fit was better than any he'd ever found in a department store. The blazer didn't even feel tight across his shoulders.
"Man, how old were you when you wore this?" Dom asked, buttoning the jacket just above his belt line. Unlike most formal clothing, the cut of the blazer actually flattered his form instead of drawing negative attention to it, making him look solid instead of soft in the middle.
"When I was a little younger than you," Marcus estimated, stepping forward to help with Dom's tie.
"Younger? No way! Are you sure?"
"Yep." Marcus finished with the knot, cinching it up and smoothing down Dom's collar over top of it. He was better at tying a tie than Dom's mother. He must've had a lot of practice. Finished, Marcus chucked Dom reassuringly on the shoulder. "You'll grow out of it. Trust me. When you hit puberty, the problem will be keeping weight on."
A short knock at the door drew their attention. It was Fernand, the butler. "A car is waiting out front for you and your guest, Mr. Fenix. Your father called from the airport. He said he would meet you at the event."
"Thank you, Fernand," Marcus said, dismissing the man.
With a curt nod, Fernand left them once more.
After that, there was nothing left to do but walk downstairs and get in the car.
At least Dom felt confident that he didn't look ridiculous.