Chapter Text
“Goodbye, Thomas, enjoy the rest of your party,” said Gina. She hung up with a smile stretching across her face. She can’t remember the last time she smiled this month. Lately, it had been bad news followed by worse culminating in her mother dying, so it was wonderful to finally get some happy news. Even if it might have taken some meddling on her part to get Thomas and Evan to take the leap towards marriage. She’d always hated when her mother had meddled in her life, but maybe Thomas needed someone in his life to meddle in it. Gina was more than happy for that meddlesome person to be her if it meant she got to see more of Evan.
With a happy sigh, Gina tucked her phone into her pocket and set about reheating a bowl of minestrone soup. She’d made too much again – she always made too much when she followed her mother’s old recipes. Mother hadn't known how to cook for anything less than an army. Before Mother had died, Gina had brought her extra food into the hospice, snuck it in without the nurses noticing. Well, the nurses probably had noticed, just chosen not to deny a dying woman her daughter’s home cooking.
Just as the microwave dinged, her phone rang in her pocket, sending a vibration through her thigh. It was Michael. Lucky her, getting calls from two different nephews so close together. “Hello, Michael,” she said, tucking the phone between her ear and her shoulder as she manouvered her too hot bowl out of the microwave and onto the counter without spilling it or burning herself in the process. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Tommy called me,” said Michael without preamble. Her second nephew didn’t have the greatest manners, she could admit that for all she loved him dearly, but he was usually polite enough to ask how she was before he delved into whatever problem he was calling her to talk through. “He sounded really serious. I mean, I think he did. He used to be a real sarcastic guy when I was a kid so maybe he’s just being real deadpan. I don’t know. I think he was being serious though, like family therapy levels of serious.”
Gina paused to process what Michael had said before she replied. It sounded like Thomas had decided to reach out to his brothers, but was only willing to rebuild a relationship if they went about things the right way. Good for Thomas. She asked Michael, “is that something you’re willing to do if he asks?” As much as Gina loved Thomas, she couldn’t really say that she knew him all that well, not well enough for him to supersede Michael in her affections. Not that she’d ever tell either of them that. “Do you want a relationship with your brother or do you just want him to forgive you?”
Gina could practically hear the gears grinding in Mikey’s brain as he thought through his answer. She was glad he was thinking, thinking probably meant he was still sober, though he’d always been pretty convincing when he’d pretended to be sober, at least until you got within smelling distance of him.
“If you’d asked me when I was still drinking, I’d have probably said I just wanted Tommy to forgive and forget, let bygones be bygones,” Mikey began. He spoke slowly, thoughtfully, more like the Michael he’d been before the drinking had gotten so bad it’d driven his wife away. “But I’m sick of taking the easy way out, Auntie. Taking the easy way out ended up with me almost destroying my life. I wanna do the work.”
Good. That’s what Gina had wanted to hear. “So, do the work,” she said. “Meet with your brother, agree to do what he wants to do. Listen to what he has to say. If he says it’s not working, you back off. I know you like to push, Michael, but I think if you push too hard with Thomas you’ll drive him away for good. He’s got a good life without you, he’s not going to want to risk it for your sake.” That seemed harsh even to her, but Michael needed someone to tell him the harsh realities every once in a while. Still, she thought she ought to give him some hope. “Also, I think you and Evan would get along splendidly.”
There was a slight pause. No doubt Michael was trying to place the name. He’d only met Thomas’s significant other once – and briefly at that – after the funeral. “That’s the boyfriend, right? Partner? I don’t know the terms.”
“Fiancé now,” said Gina. She hoped Thomas wouldn’t mind her spilling the news to his brother. “Thomas just called to tell me the happy news.”
“Wow, that’s. Wow.”
She could imagine Michael’s eyes widening, his brows lifting into his ever-so-slightly receding hairline that she tried her hardest not to bring up but he really ought to cut his hair differently so as to make it less prominent. “Are you so shocked that someone loves your brother enough to marry him?” Sometimes, she felt it was her duty as Michael’s aunt to say things as bluntly as possible so in order to highlight the man’s ridiculousness.
“It’s not that, Auntie,” said Michael. “I’m probably showing my ass here, but I just always pictured Tommy doing the whole pretty petite wife, white picket fence, two-and-a-half kids, and dog thing, and now he’s marrying this great big dude who looks like he’s been hit in the face.”
That wasn’t an altogether inaccurate description of Evan Buckley to Gina’s mind, though it did miss out on the attractiveness of said face. “Just because your brother doesn’t fit into gay stereotypes doesn’t mean he’s not gay,” she said, rather than correct Michael’s assessment of Evan. She almost added, “I mean, look at me, no one would know I’m a lesbian just looking at me,” but aside from Tabitha and now Thomas and Evan, no one knew about Siobhan.
Gina had told her mother, long after Siobhan’s death. It had been in a fit of peak, slightly tipsy, and tired of her mother’s attempts to foist her of onto the unmarried sons of her church friends. “Mother, I’m a lesbian!” she’d shouted. “I’m not going to marry a man, and besides, I’ve already lost the love of my life, so just give it a rest.” She’d been so afraid that her mother would reject her then, but she hadn’t. She’d simply nodded, shook her head and said “You should have told me sooner, Gina.”
Coming out to her mother had simultaneously healed something within Gina and also made her regret not telling her mother sooner. But she’d been too afraid of judgement, of the Catholicism her mother had been stewing in since birth. But what was the point in coming out to Michael now? It wasn’t like she ever intended to find herself in another relationship. Though, Thomas’s offer of a plus one taunted her. “Please, for the love of God and Martha Stewart do some homework before you meet with your brother. I’ll send you some links once my fingers hurt less.”
“Your rheumatoid acting up, Auntie?” Michael asked. She appreciated the genuine concern in his voice. He’d always been such a sweet boy, even if he was a bit hopeless.
“It’s always worse when it rains,” said Gina. “What about your brother, the other one, Anthony? Is he going to go on this journey of reconnection with you?”
Michael sighed and she’d bet good money that he was wiping a hand over his eyes just like his mother used to do. “I don’t know Auntie. I think Tony wants to get to know Tommy again, but I think it’ll be hard for him. He was just a kid when Tommy left, and I don’t think he really understands why Tommy left. Why Tommy had to leave. You know Dad was always not terrible with him.”
That was one way of saying that Jonathan Kinard had been a slightly less abusive father to the youngest of his first batch of children. Another way in which her brother had become like their father, picking favourites amongst his children and letting everyone know.
“But I’ll ask Tommy about it when I call him back, and I’ll talk to Tony. I’m sure we’ll work something out.” He sounded genuinely hopeful and Gina was glad. Michael needed something to look forward to what with his divorce and custody issues and his sobriety journey. She hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed.
“You’d better,” said Gina. “Because I fully intend to keep Thomas in my life now that I’ve got him back and I’m sick of playing mediator in this family.”
“You got it, Auntie.” Michael chuckled. “Oh, I found something really cool. I was, uh, Googling Tommy since now I know what to look for – LA firefighter pilot.”
Gina found herself genuinely intrigued. “And?”
“I found an article from last year, talked about him.” Michael was trying to be dramatic with his long pauses and Gina was not going to stand for it.
“The suspense is killing me, Michael. Any minute now I’m going to keel over face first into my minestrone.” Michael didn’t need to know that her minestrone was currently standing forgotten on her counter growing cold again because Gina was absolutely not the kind of person to eat while on the phone.
“Remember that massive swarm of bees, seemed like something out of a B-movie?”
“I recall something of that nature.” She’d been five or six when The Swarm premiered and eight or nine when it came out on VHS, far too young, but Jonathan – curse him – had made her watch it with him. Maybe he’d thought he was doing her a favour, the cool older brother letting his kid sister watch a movie her parents wouldn’t let her. She liked to think that he’d done it to give her nightmares, to punish her for existing, for forcing him to stay home and babysit her when he’d rather be out with Angela trying to pressure her into premarital sex. Bees still made Gina uncomfortable, though she wouldn’t say she had a phobia of them anymore, she just would rather they stayed far away from her thank you very much.
“Turns out the bees caused an airplane to almost crash,” Michael continued “They got into the cockpit somehow, incapacitated both pilot and co-pilot. Luckily there was this lady cop on board the plane who was able to work with air traffic control to keep the plane in the air.”
Gina remembered seeing something about that on the news, but her focus was on local news, not on B-movie scenarios playing out in real life down in Los Angeles. She’d told her staff to focus and put it out of her mind. “And how does this relate to our Thomas?” She would talk to him about his use of “lady cop” some other time. Honestly, for a millennial sometimes her nephew sounded like he’d come from his father’s era. Hopefully it wasn’t too late for him to unlearn some things.
“He’s a pilot right.” Michael said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Yes,” said Gina. “Helicopters, so I’m told.”
“Apparently more than helicopters, cuz they lowered him down to the plane while the jet was flying, got him inside – don’t ask me how, this all seems made up to me – and he was able to land the plane no problem.” If Michael had finished his story with jazz hands and a “Ta dah!” Gina wouldn’t have been surprised.
“How heroic,” said Gina. Thomas hadn’t said anything to her about that particular rescue, but her questions the other night had been geared more towards the personal than the professional. She vaguely recalled her mother maybe mentioning something about Thomas and bees around the time of the great “Bee-nado” of 2024, but she’d thought it was the ramblings of a confused old lady on a hefty dose of pain medication. “Did you find anything about him flying into a hurricane to locate that capsized cruise ship?”
“Uh, yeah, I think he got a medal of valour or something for that.” Michael whistled. “Tommy’s always been a cool guy, guess he just got even cooler.”
“Apparently, Thomas and Evan met during that rescue,” said Gina pleased to have gossip of her own to share.
“What? On the sinking cruise ship?”
Gina sighed and resisted the urge to call her nephew an idiot. “No, in the helicopter. Evan was part of the search and rescue party. He got a medal for it too.”
“So, they’re both cool.” Michael might have sounded a bit jealous. Gina might have been tempted to assure him that he was cool too, but he was a tax accountant, hardly the world’s most thrilling profession.
“It would seem so,” said Gina. “I hope you get the chance to really get to know both of them.” Gina hoped the same for herself. Thomas had said she should go down to LA to visit them and get to know Evan’s family before the wedding. Maybe she’d check in with Tabitha on Monday and see if there was an ideal time in her work schedule for a trip or two before the wedding, whenever that ended up being. Tabitha would probably be shocked and asked if she’d been body snatched, but Gina yearned for the chance to connect with her nephew, and it was worth putting aside her work. It would always be there waiting for her when she got back.
She and Michael chatted for a bit before he hung up, saying he was heading to another meeting. He seemed to be doing better this time around. It was certainly the longest he’d ever stayed sober.
Gina sighed and set her phone aside, rubbing her eyes. The pain in her fingers flared. Thinking about the upcoming wedding helped distract from the pain somewhat. She hoped that once they were married perhaps Evan and Thomas would take fewer risks on the job, no more flying into hurricanes or getting lowered out of helicopters onto flying planes.
That was mostly Thomas to be fair, but there was something about Evan that made her suspect he was just as much of a daredevil as her nephew. Age would force them to slow down eventually, and she prayed they’d have the chance to age together, to walk into their golden years, something she’d always yearned to do with Siobhan. But Siobhan was dead and gone and Gina would stay alone. She’d work until she couldn’t anymore, or she was forced out and then she’d fill her days with her nephews’ children.
Maybe Evan and Thomas would adopt or use a surrogate. Evan seemed like he was good with kids based on the pictures he’d show her of his niece and a random child named Christopher whom she wasn’t sure he was related to. She hadn’t quite been able to work out the connection.
But the idea of that plus one that Thomas had mentioned so off-handedly kept popping into her brain as she reheated her minestrone again and finally ate it, as she massaged pain cream into her hands, as she read her book and brushed her teeth, as she put her hair in curlers and bonnet, as she lay in her empty bed and failed to sleep.
What if? She almost wondered. But no. Siobhan had been the love of her life. She shouldn’t be greedy. She’d remain the old maiden aunt. No plus ones for her.