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Ten
Aela
NOW
Declan’s placewas nothing like I imagined.
In fact, it was the opposite.
It was… Japanese.
Considering the family was borderline psychotic with their patriotism, both for the motherland and the States, that he’d gone for a very Asian influence clued me into the fact that Declan had opened himself up to the world.
Hell, I bet he even ate ramen on Sundays, not just roasted meat with two veg.
My lips quirked at the thought, even as I took a seat on the futon. Yep, that was the extent to this Japanese fusion Declan had going on.
The dining table was low to the ground, like the same height as a coffee table, and there were unusual dining chairs, which were like office chairs but also low to the ground. They acted as the heads of the table, and large white cushions replaced the regular seats. On the surface, there was a cast iron teapot with little painted teacups on a rush mat.
Beyond, there was a picture window that was revealed when screens were pulled aside on pulleys.
In this side of the room, which was compartmentalized with those translucent screens that were like paper, complete with Asian-style designs on them, there was a low sofa, cuboid and boxy, but comfortable nonetheless. A kind of reed-like rug lay on the floor and the coffee table was barely a foot off the ground. Opposite, there was a console table, which was thick, boxy, and dark, gleaming in a way that spoke of expensive Shellac, with a few decorative items on top. Above, there was the only thing I’d expected—a large TV.
What truly interested me in this whole weirdAlice in Wonderlandfugue I had going on were the trinkets on the console.
I’d heard about kintsugi before and had been fascinated by the concept. The Japanese celebrated scars and damage that came in an object’s ‘life.’ They didn’t toss them out, instead, they’d painstakingly piece them together again like expensive jigsaw puzzles, and used gold as the glue.
The console table was about nine feet long, and all along the surface there were several such pieces. A few dishes, earthenware and colored pottery, a few vases that I didn’t need to be an expert in to know were Ming, and some dishes with Japanese themes—the rolling surf, a bonsai tree, a dragon.
Even as I wondered what that said about Declan, why he chose to celebrate something that was broken, chose to cherish it, I peered at my son who was watching cartoons.
He never watched cartoons.
Said they were too juvenile, too young for him now that he was ancient at fourteen.
Of course, whenever he watched them, I knew it was his way of coping. He had an old head on young shoulders, and the path he wanted to take in this life was equally as turbulent, equally as stressful. If I could, I’d tell him to be an artist, tell him to follow his heart and create, but he wanted to be in law. Wanted to move into politics. Wanted to change the world because it wouldn’t change itself.
Even as I feared for him, I was proud of him, and when he did have these moments, when he wandered back a few steps, I just let him. I didn’t give him crap about the cartoons, because we had a tendency to tease each other. I didn’t even mention them or what might be worrying him enough to watch them.
I just let him be.
Knowing full well that if he wanted to talk, he’d come to me. Which he usually would. Maybe not as soon as I’d like, but he’d come. Eventually.
So I watched over him without being seen, and I was sitting in this uncomfortable living room with a book on my lap when I hated, absolutelyoutrightloathed,Rick and Morty.
I just didn’t get it. But then, I didn’t have to.
A long while back, I’d managed to reach that enviable state of motherhood where I could tune out the random stuff he used to watch or listen to. It had helped get me throughSpongeBob,Pokémon, and TikTok.Rick and Morty, however, required ear plugs.
With my focus on the book, my ear plugs working—thank God—I didn’t hear any sounds that were out of the ordinary. Only when Shay jerked, jumping to his feet like a gun had fired in the room, did I realize anything was wrong.
I knew it was a testament to my faith in a family that hadn’t earnedanyfaith at all, that I felt safe.
I even knew he was just overreacting.
The O’Donnellys would let nothing happen to Shay.
They’d let nothing happen to me either.
