"Is he sleeping yet?" Mrs. Deringer asked.
"Well, he's supposed to be. But just to be sure he didn't get distracted and check email, I took away his connection to the outside world," he replied, holding up Mickey's slim silver phone.
"I'm not sure that I could have done that, but good for you!" she replied, before offering him a seat at the kitchen table.
Because the house was so small, there was no separate dining room, just an enlarged kitchen, if the small space could even be called `enlarged.' But it was cozy, Drew thought. And if he was ever going to get to know her better, this was the opportunity.
"Can I get you something to eat, Drew? That's if you're still hungry after that...um...episode."
"I'm OK for right now, but thank you," he replied, smiling.
"What about coffee, or something to drink? Would you like a beer or soda?" she asked as she was about to get out of her chair.
"Oh, no thanks, no beer for me. If you've got a soda or water that would be fine," he replied. "But I can get it myself. I know my way around at least a little bit by now," he replied, waving his hand to motion that she could sit down.
"Of course not, let me get that for you," she replied with a friendly but firm tone of non-negotiation. In any case, the refrigerator was hardly a step away from where she sat, so there was no competition as to who could get there first.
"Here you go, she said," placing the cold soda in front of him before returning to the rather rickety metal chair that she always occupied at the head of the table. Back when there were four of them at meals, it was where Mickey's father formerly sat.
"By the way, where is Daisy?" she asked as the refrigerator door closed slowly behind her.
"Oh, she's with Mickey. Probably guarding him," he replied, tilting his head toward their bedroom.
Daisy had really taken a shine to him, which pleased Drew to no end. A running joke between them was that Daisy had veto power over his relationships and that Mickey was still on probation, subject to long-term review.
"Mickey was really looking forward to coming home and seeing all of you." Drew said before taking a sip and putting the container back down on the Formica table. When his elbow hit the surface it seemed to bounce a bit, caused by the uneven floor supporting the thin aluminum legs.
"We were all looking forward to seeing both of you, Drew," she replied, glancing up for a moment before staring down at her mug of coffee. A slight bit of steam was rising from it.
"We...I...we all really miss him," she said. There was another moment of silence, which seemed awkward to Drew. He was about to speak again before he heard the cup put back gently on the table.
"When he went away to boarding school, gosh...That was so hard for all of us," she said, still staring, her voice quivering for a moment.
"I know it was the right thing for him to do, and his brother, too. It was a great opportunity, way beyond anything that he could get around here," she said. "But his brother and I missed him so much. So much..." she continued, before her voice trailed off.
Seeing the reaction stunned Drew for a moment, as he didn't mean to get so serious so quickly. And it had been a great visit so far, in spite of the unfortunate cooking malfunction. But before he could think of something supportive or positive to say, she started speaking again.
"...And it gave him a chance for a new start, too. Everyone around here knew him, and knew what happened, or thought they did," she added.
"It wasn't just the physical pain that caused the problems for him, though there was way too much of that for a young boy. It was the other things, too."
"Like what? Were people ... other kids ... mean to him?" Drew asked, slightly nervous, almost not wanting to know the answer.
"I don't' think that anyone knew quite how to act, but a few of them were very cruel. Some of the things that they said! When he got the bandages off, he actually seemed fine in dealing with it, accepting it, at least initially. But when someone would tell him that he looked like Frankenstein..." she trailed off shaking her head. "He was just a kid..."
"As time when on, I could see how he walked with his friends, he'd always put himself on the edge of the group so that they couldn't see his scars. The teachers even put him on the side of the class to make everyone `comfortable'. Can you imagine how he felt? "
"You know, he was like his Dad in so many ways, and I think he knew it. School was easy for Mickey, and his Dad used to brag that it all came from him," she said, shaking her head in resignation.
"His Dad was a smart guy; I think one might almost call him brilliant. But he couldn't deal with people and at a practical level was kind of a...failure, I hate to say. He was too impatient in college to ever really learn a skill or trade and he dropped out. Then, when he was in the working world, he thought that every boss he had was stupid and he wasn't shy about telling them that. There was no ability to interact or get along with people."
"With all these failures over time, he seemed to just get angrier and angrier. Nothing like when I first met him," she said, sounding slightly deflated.
"So after this all happens, even when Mickey was still in the burn unit wrapped in bandages like a Mummy and in so much pain, he'd ask me, "Am I going to be like him, Mom? Am I going to do that to myself? Am I going to hurt people?"
She put down her cup and looked at Drew.
"I would say to him, `Mickey, you're like him in a lot of ways, and some of them are great gifts and you should appreciate and use them. But in the most important ways, you're nothing like him at all. You care about people besides yourself, and that's the best thing about you and makes you different,' " she said, her voice now as confident and certain as a mom could be.
"Did he understand what you were trying to say?" he asked, barely able to return the intensity of her gaze.
"Some of it, maybe. But in spite of all his faults, or at least what I thought were his faults, he had worshiped his Dad. So to think that this role model had a bad side and could be so hurtful and cruel...that was hard to accept."
"But when his father went into the bedroom and did...that...to himself," she said, shaking her head.
"Mickey didn't hold that against him, believe it or not," she added. "I think that he understood that his Dad had problems, or things that he couldn't control, and that he just couldn't be responsible."
"Like I said, Mickey was not like his father. He's got other gifts, and they are a lot more valuable than what he got from his Dad. And so does Nate."
"He probably didn't tell you this, but after all this happened that night and his face is...oh, I can't describe it...he comes and asks Nate and me ... Mom, are you OK?' I shook my head yes', and said I was OK, and so was Nate."
"Then he started screaming and crying, and Nate was crying too, reaching out to him as Mickey started to wobble and could barely stand. What a scene. It was awful."
"Nate was even smaller than Mickey back then, but be tried to hold up his brother until we were both able to drag him over to the couch and call the ambulance."
Neither said anything for a moment, Mrs. Derringer just looking toward a ceramic bowl filled with plastic apples in the middle of the table. Suddenly she shook her head, as if she was just waking up.
"Anyway, you might not realize it yet, but Nate has become extremely protective of him. By the time he was a freshman at Middlefield, he was just about Mickey's size, and then over the next few years he just got bigger. In his eyes, he's now Mickey's big brother and protector, in scale, if not in age."
"That's definitely the impression I got when I met him. No doubt about it," Drew replied, smiling to himself, recalling Nate's ominous threat when he first arrived.
She gave him a funny look, but didn't seem to want to probe further.
"Sorry for talking so much, Drew. I know that I'm kind of going off, here. I'm sure that Mickey told you about what happened, but I guess that I just want you to know these other things, too. Things that he wouldn't have told you."
"Thanks for telling me, I know it can't be easy," he said as he reached over and held her small hand with his. He was surprised how tightly she could grip before she released him.
She straightened up in her chair and then continued. "Like I was saying about Mickey going away to school, it was good for him to leave. But it was so hard on him. I think he cried on every phone call, which was every night, for the first month. He was about the youngest kid in the class since he had skipped a grade so it was even harder for him."
"How long did it take for him to adjust?" Drew asked.
"Probably most of the first semester, at least. I didn't have much experience with those schools and how they do things, but when we dropped him off I made sure that his house mother and father knew what he had been through and where he was coming from."
"While I was there, his house parents introduced me to one of their counselors. As dedicated and supportive as they turned out to be, they knew that Mickey needed more professional attention and got the counselor involved."
"As far as his injuries went, she couldn't have been more helpful. But that wasn't the only thing that I was worried about there." Mrs. Derringer looked at him, but kind of sideways.
"I don't want you to be self-conscious, Drew, but many of the kids had a lot of money and their...expectations... were a lot different. They really had no limits as to getting what they wanted, at as far as possessions went. And, of course, Mickey didn't have anything compared to them, he was on a full scholarship. So he had to deal with that, too."
"I'm not one of them anymore, but I remember what they can be like, so no offense taken," he said, smiling.
She gave slight laugh, then continued. "Well in the end, that part of it didn't make much difference, He used to tell me about these gigantic houses that he would visit, but it never seemed like a big deal to him. In the end even, the self-consciousness about his face didn't mean as much to him as just missing Nate and me. Like most kids, homesickness was maybe his biggest hurdle."
"So to complete the answer to your question," she added, looking away in embarrassment, "it was probably toward the end of the first semester, maybe the beginning of the second when he seemed to start, well...feel like he belonged, and started to take advantage of what was in front of him. He always tried to hide his crying when he had to go back. Even when he went back for his last year, he would always miss home. But I could tell that he was really thriving in that environment. He got to really love it there," she continued.
"I couldn't guarantee it at the time, but now I know that he is the type of person who will just make things work and not mope around. It affected him a lot, to be away from his brother and me. Where he lives and who he's with is everything to him. So when he started to make friends and really become a part of the school... then... wow! It became a second home for him.
"I have to say," she continued, "that he sort of became Mr. Middlefield. I'm not sure that there was anyone who got more benefit than he did of the place. He realized what a gift it was. And if he ever makes a lot of money they'll get a lot of it," she added.
"And Dr. Glynn, his sponsor couldn't have been happier. He told you about Dr. Glynn, right?" she asked.
"Oh yeah, he did. He was the one who introduced him to Middlefield and encouraged him to go."
"Yes, that's right. I think over time that he became kind of a surrogate son to him and Mrs. Glynn in more ways than one. And Dr. Glynn ... he couldn't hear enough about Mickey's exploits at school and how well he was doing. Every time he came back on break he would get interrogated for hours by the Doctor!"
"Reliving his own school days?" Drew asked.
"Partially, for sure. But besides the nostalgia, I think that both he and his wife really cared about Mickey as a person. To see him successful made them both very happy."
"But, going back to Mickey's time there," she said, catching up on her earlier thought, "he was involved in every activity you could imagine. They required everyone to play a sport every semester, so he played basketball, ran cross country - he even tried tennis, which he wasn't very good at, but still enjoyed. And besides all those things, he wrote for the newspaper, was active in student government and became a peer counselor, too. He even organized the student greeters for first year students when they arrived on campus."
He put a huge amount of effort into that, even going back to Middlefield a couple days early to make sure the orientation program was perfect. It meant a lot to him. "
"And you know what else," she said, not quickly following up. "He still called every single night and talked to me and to his brother. After he told me about his day, he would always talk to Nate to help him with homework or ask about the progress of whatever team he was on. He was really living his life. I knew that my son had great opportunities and experiences, and but I never thought that I would lose him there."
"But it still must have been hard on you, too." Drew said.
She sighed.
"I tried to hide it, I didn't want him to abandon this for me. Like I said, it was really his chance to change his life, and I was going to do everything I could to help him do that," she said slowly, then paused.
"But I missed him so much. So much..." she continued, her voice trailing off.
She folded her hand in front of herself, for a moment looking away from Drew. "Sorry to bother you with all this, but I just thought that you'd..."
"It's great to hear, ma'am. It really is. None of it surprises...'
"You make him so happy," she said, interrupting him. "I knew the first time he even mentioned you name that you were special to him."
"Wha...when was that?" he asked.
"Something was wrong with him, he got hurt somehow at the beginning of the semester. He never told me what was going on, but I could tell," she said, as Drew tried to cover a smile.'
"I knew there was something!" she said, pointing at him.
"No, please go on," he protested, not wanting to interrupt the story.
"He told me that he had nicked up his shoulder a bit playing basketball and it was a little sore, so he slept in. Then he said that this friend of his had brought a surprise breakfast, all sorts of good stuff, just to make sure that he was ok. Mickey just went on and on about how nice it was, and way more than you should have done. He could hardly stop talking about it."
Drew turned red. "It was really nothing, just a breakfast sandwich. But he did like it, which made me kind of happy."
"Whatever it was, it meant a lot to him," she said, then continued. "And from then on, he could almost not stop talking about you."
"I was glad that he had a good friend. But of course I knew, or thought I knew, who your family was, and I couldn't help but be afraid of, well, the disappointment that might likely come out of this. It's a mom's duty to be encouraging, and it was generally easy with Mickey, and with Nate, too. But I really couldn't imagine this going where he wanted it to go," she said, then added, "Sorry, that seems prejudiced against your family, Drew, but..."
"No worries. I would...I did, feel the same thing...With the image of my Dad and Stepmom, you couldn't draw many other conclusions," he said quietly.
She continued, lowering her head in an almost embarrassed way. `Mickey," I said, "I know that this boy is good friend to you, but don't assume that he can return these feelings that you seem to be developing for him. "Look at his family and his environment. Do you really think it's possible?"
"His voice cracked when he said back, `I know Mom...I hope...but...that's all I can do right now, Mom. I guess I'll just enjoy it as much as I can and just deal with it when it comes, but...' "
"Even with all he had been through, this was almost when I was most afraid for him. He had been through a lot of physical pain, and all the disappointment with his dad. But this was really different. It was more than any of those things."
"I guess that I kind of felt the same way," Drew replied. "I mean, I knew he was gay kind of early on. And to tell you the truth, when I found out, it was like, the biggest high of my life. It was weird. I mean, I didn't really understand my feelings but I somehow felt that the best thing in the world at that point was that Mickey Deringer was gay. Like I was telling myself, `You've got a chance at something, whatever that something is.' "
She smiled. "You both went through a lot to make this work. It's never easy for anyone, but you two really had to go sideways to discover each other.
"As difficult as it was," Drew replied. "It was worth every bit of it."
"Has there been any support from your family?" she asked. "I know that your sister is good, but anyone else?"
Drew sighed. "No. and I don't know when they might. I have to say, I miss talking to my Dad, and I hope that he feels the same. But it's really complicated, especially now that he has another family."
"That can be a problem. I don't think it's too easy to blend families, unless both sides are really understanding and open," she said.
"I think that's true, but there's nothing I can do about it now, I guess. I've tried, you know, over time. I used to ask her boys if they wanted to go to football games, and that was a non-starter. And they weren't interested in cultural things, either."
What do you think they were interested in?
He chuckled. "Partying, drinking. The only thing I found that we both enjoyed was drinking beer, but that wasn't high on my list, and I don't even drink anymore," he said, "which was kind of ironic, considering that they are all supposed to be so conservative and religious."
"Excuse me a second. My mouth is getting dry," he said before taking a drink of the water.
"Anyway, I have tried, and I keep trying. The religious part really kind of gets in the way the most, I think. Those kids are kind of phonies with it, but my Dad, he's bought into a lot of that stuff and they can't just turn around and reject all of it. I understand that. And there's his other family, too, and their attitudes that he can't ignore."
"It's really too bad, especially now," he continued. "My dad has had a lot of business setbacks recently that have been in the news and that's the kind of stuff that we used to talk about. Not that I understood everything, of course. But he used me as a sounding board, and Casey sometimes, too."
"She wasn't real interested in that stuff, though, but I always found it fascinating. That made me the kind of natural heir to the business, which would have been exciting. But it's weird..." he said, before pausing.
"So many people would practically die for that kind of opportunity, and it is pretty unique. He's really seen as a master. But as much as we used to talk about my taking the reins of the company, I never completely thought that it would happen, or needed to. Maybe it was a premonition."
"Does anyone do that for him now, I mean, help him, be someone that he can bounce ideas off of?" she asked.
Drew chuckled again. "Even though it's a business, and he has his professional advisors and shareholders and all that, Dad's always been real family-oriented about all of it. He might talk to Casey a little, but nowadays it's all his wife and stepsons. They're the ones who have his ear."
"From what I hear on the news and in the papers, the stepsons aren't exactly cut out for that kind of work," she said, her expression acknowledging what an understatement that was.
"For sure, and they probably know it. But their Mom really pushes them into the business. So from a marital point of view, there isn't much choice," he said. "For them, I think, it's not much about the company. It's just an opportunity to show power and boss around people."
"And make a lot of money," he added.
Drew shook his head. "I hope he can `right the ship' soon. This decline has happened so fast, I'm not sure that anyone even understands why it's happening. Even though he's had a few big gambles, like when he invested in some of those social media companies, he's really a very, very conservative businessman. And that's why this is all so surprising."
"I can't help thinking...," Mrs. Deringer said, "This all started happening after you and Mickey got together. Maybe he really is upset and is just having trouble focusing."
Drew shook his head. "This was never meant to hurt him - it wasn't any kind of test or anything like that. It's just what happened. And I'm not proud enough to think that whatever happened between us would have any effect on the business. That's a totally separate thing," he said. He paused for a moment, looking at his glass. "Whatever it is, I don't think he feels desperate enough to call me."
"Mickey said that you've tried, so that's all you can do."
Drew sighed. "I guess. But I always feel like there's something else that I should be doing. And not just for our relationship, of course, but for the business. He built that from scratch and it's really part of his legacy. Protecting that would be something I think both Mickey and I could help with. But I don't think that will ever happen."
"You never know how these things will go, Drew. Not to be Pollyannaish, but if your Dad is the person you say he is then don't count him out from your future."
"I haven't, for sure. But I'm also prepared for it to never happen," he said as he sat back in his chair, folding his hands across his chest.
Mickey's mom leaned over and practically whispered to him. "You've had a lot of upset in your life, more than someone your age should have. And it's all been in public. Are you doing ok?" she asked.
"I wish some things were turning out differently, for sure. But all in all, I'm as happy as I could be. In fact, I feel like the luckiest guy in the world," he replied, glancing in the direction of Mickey.