"Yeah!"
"Yeah!"
"Yeah!"
"Yeah!"
Gillian looked up at the eight year olds all hopping around the living room, jumping and calling out while Owen set the movie up to watch. He called up the 'on demand' function of their sky box expertly, using the TV remote. The other boys then turned to jostle for good seating. Anywhere in that room was good seating; all the furniture was orientated around the television. From what Gillian could see, from the kitchen, where she was preparing movie snacks, Owen and his three friends piled onto the three-seater, while Lewis, the almost-teenager, commandeered the love seat, by lying all over it. So Gillian figured, two for the kids to share and one for Lewis. She got three large bowls from the cupboard next to the stove.
"Hey, sorry I'm late," Cal spoke as he crossed to where she was opening a bag of potato chips. He planted a rough kiss on her cheek, then turned to toss his keys onto the breakfast bar. "Class went ova."
"I figured," Gillian responded.
"Too much talkin'," Cal went on, leaning his ass against the bench, watching her.
"Uh huh."
"Me. Too much talkin'," Cal clarified.
Gillian gave him a smile.
"Can I help with somethin'?"
"It's ok, the kids are going to watch a movie before dinner."
Cal looked over at the boys on the couch. Owen had started the movie. At the bottom of the screen subtitled prompts indicated orchestral music was playing during the opening production sequences. Gillian finished with doling out chips and took two of the bowls to the couch. "Incoming," she warned as she lowered the snacks to the boys laps. Cal had followed her with the third, and correctly deduced it was for Lewis. Lewis thanked him after saying hello. Gillian went back to the kitchen while Cal said hello to Owen's friends.
Gillian was making pizza for dinner, with hot chips. Of course the main course was actually dessert. Owen picked ice cream and jelly and obviously, there would be birthday cake too; something disgustingly chocolaty of which Gillian totally approved. When Cal came back he hovered in close, while Gillian opened the last frozen pizza box and placed the food inside on an oven tray.
"Who's that foreign child?"
"Which foreign child?" Gillian asked, looking up, as if they might have magically multiplied when she turned her back.
"The otha one with the light brown hair."
Gillian took about two seconds to identify who it was her husband was actually talking about. She thought about being a smart ass and responding that that was their son, Lewis, but instead she said: "Mase." She looked up to find Cal giving her a frown. "Mason," she elaborated. "Owen's friend, Mason."
"Oh. So, not one of ours you forgot to tell me about?"
"Yes. I've been keeping him hidden for the last eight years," Gillian responded dryly, putting the plastic sealant into the trash beneath the sink. She should have gone for a smart ass response.
"I've not seen him before," Cal went on.
"I think he's new," Gillian mused.
"Obviously," Cal noted.
"Not to us, to the school," Gillian clarified, bending the cardboard box in half and putting it with the others she had already opened and discarded on the edge of the bench, that she would probably make Lewis go and take down to the recycling in the garage.
"Oh right."
"Why are those words on the movie?" The blond haired Scott asked suddenly and loudly, drawing the attention of the adults in the kitchen across the room, sitting forward on the couch to talk to Owen further down.
"They're subtitles," Owen told him as if it were obvious.
"What are they there for?"
"Cos Lewis has them," Owen answered matter-of-factly.
Cal looked at Gillian briefly but he needn't have warned her. She was listening and watching, waiting to see what would happen next; wondering if she should intervene. She could feel Cal tensing next to her, preparing to do the same. He was more sensitive to Lewis's hearing at the moment, now that their boy was older and having to deal with school; never ending school problems. It had cut Gillian up about his hearing when he was little but now it was Cal who was having the harder time letting it go. It wasn't guilt, where he came from, but still a desire to protect his son. They both had to realise that Lewis was getting older and that he needed to deal with his problems on his own, which was tough, but he did have to learn his own way, his own technique, something that was affective. Not that this was a problem. Nope. Owen was a stubborn little man and he quickly told his friends to shut up, that the subtitles were staying on so his brother didn't miss the movie and though he didn't voice it, he was practically adding that they should just deal with it. But he left it at that: shut up, they're staying on.
Cal turned to Gillian again. His blue eyes met hers heavily. He didn't say anything though. But she knew.
Your son.
Happy birthday Owen.