Chapter One-hundred Sixty-Three: Fun in Funeral

Chapter 163

Fun in Funeral

Tristan was in his office that morning. He wore a black Italian-cut suit, a light blue pressed shirt, a dark blue tie, black pants, and black wingtip Oxfords.

Rosemary and Lily entered his office. Rosemary wore a gray A-line dress with a black cardigan over it and black heels. Lily wore a long-sleeved black jacket with a traditional frog button closure and a red collar trim. It had red embroidery on the front with two peacocks facing each other. She also wore black pants that were loose-fitting with a red trim along the outer seams and feiyue shoes.

Rosemary: “Tristan, did you see the invitation?”

Tristan nonchalantly picked up the card about Borko’s funeral, flipped it over, and tossed it on his desk.

Tristan: “Yeah.”

He said flatly.

Rosemary: “Please come. It would mean a lot to Lily.”

She said beseechingly. Tristan drew a long breath.

Tristan: “I have to go to court, Rosemary. Send my condolences.”

Rosemary: “Can’t you postpone?”

He gaped at her.

Tristan: “No, I cannot! I am not postponing this for some old man who died! An old man I didn’t know, but the few times I met him when you invited me to dinner, he gave me the creeps!”

He said flippantly. Lily cried on her mother’s shoulder.

Rosemary: “You knew how much this affected my daughter and me, Tristan!”

She cried. Tristan drew a rough breath and rubbed his temples.

Tristan: “Rosemary, I am well aware of this, but I am not postponing this for some creepy old man, and if you were a good mother, you would have prohibited Lily from being around him!”

He snapped and rose, slamming his fist on the desk. Lily bawled on her mother’s shoulder and clutched her arm. Rosemary drew back as if she were mortally stabbed. She turned around and stormed out, slamming the door.

Tristan drew a long breath and sat down. He leaned back into his seat. I could have made it, but I didn’t want to, he thought. Then he thought Borko’s car and corpse were found in the Bellewell Brook. Why all the way out there? He wondered. That’s thirty miles away from Pink Top City, he thought. More importantly, why do I care? It’s as if my hunches are instructing me to care about this, he pondered.

~

Fabien was driving in his Mustang Shelby with Celeste on the passenger’s side. He wore a dark green three-piece Italian-cut suit, a white, pressed shirt, a red tie, and brown cap-toe Oxfords. He had his hair slicked back and swept to the right. Celeste wore a black dress with mesh shoulders and an attached black collar, nylons, heels, and had her hair styled in a half-bun.

They approached a two-story funeral home with cream-colored siding, a dark roof, and a chimney on the right side—a large porch wrapped around the front of the funeral home, supported by white columns.

In the front, there was a circular garden bed with a stone wall. It was filled with low-lying green plants and a small evergreen tree in the center. The surrounding lawn was well-manicured. In front of the garden, a sign for “Dearly Departed Funeral Home Inc.” was displayed on a tall, square pedestal.

The establishment was surrounded by blooming flowers, including bright yellow ones, and pink flowers hung from baskets on the porch. Fabien made a turn to where the arrows directed for guest parking.

He parked his car in the back, and the two climbed out. Blair’s blue 1987 Toyota Corolla pulled up. Blair stepped out wearing an ill-fitting navy suit, white pressed shirt, black tie, and brown Oxfords. Ivy stepped out wearing a long-sleeved black qipao dress with gold trim and black heels. She carried Samson out dressed in a tux.

Ivy: “Can you help me get his stroller out, Blair?”

She asked him as she put a bottle to the cat’s mouth. Samson hungrily sucked on the bottle of chicken broth. Blair groaned.

Blair: “Why did we have to take him?! I don’t know how to get that stroller together!”

He rolled his eyes.

Ivy: “Just lift it out of the trunk, Blair.”

She sighed.

Blair: “I can barely move as it is, Ivy! I didn’t want to come here! But I am here because I am a true gentleman!”

He huffed.

Ivy reached into the car, holding Samson with one arm. His bottle fell to the ground. Ivy drew a long breath and came down to pick up his bottle.

Ivy: “Blair, can you help me, please?”

She asked him.

Blair: “WHY DO YOU ALWAYS ASK ME TO DO THINGS!? I am going here for you! THAT’S MY CHORE FOR TODAY!”

He cried. Ivy patted Samson’s back and cuddled him.

Someone reached in and pressed the button to pop the trunk. It was Jordi. He was dressed in a black Italian-cut suit, dark gray turtleneck sweater, and black wingtip Oxfords. Ivy gazed at him as he opened the trunk to lift the stroller out. He unfolded it and took Samson from Ivy to help him into his stroller and secure him. Ivy was mesmerized by how quickly and gracefully he moved. Blair glared at them as his face flamed red.

Blair: “WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU LARDASS?!”

He barked. Jordi rolled his eyes.

Jordi: “Helping your fiancée with her cat since you refuse to?”

He replied sharply.

Blair: “SCREW YOU, YOU FOOD-STEALING BEATNIK! SCREW YOU TO THE MOONS AND BACK!”

He caterwauled and stomped his feet as his face turned beet red. Jordi rolled his eyes.

Jordi: “Whatever, can we respect and grieve the deceased?”

He asked exasperatedly.

Blair: “Well, if you wanna do that, WHY DID YOU STEAL FROM MY GRANDMOTHER, YOU FAT PIG?!”

He screamed and flailed his arms as he stomped his feet.

Jordi walked past him and ignored him while he threw his tantrum. Blair sobbed and angrily kicked over the garbage can, getting the trash everywhere.

Fabien laughed as he watched from the bushes, recording everything with his camcorder.

~

They entered the funeral home’s chapel. At the end of the room was a closed, wooden casket, which rested on a stand in front of a decorative wall with a floral pattern. The casket was flanked on either side by two matching lamps and arrangements of colorful flowers, predominantly pink and yellow. On the casket was a picture of Borko smiling in the bathtub with Lily. The frame was a ceramic bathtub that said, “Baby’s first bath with grandpa.”

The room had a slightly ornate feel. A large, multi-tiered crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, its light reflecting off the crystals. A plush, upholstered sofa sat in front of the casket, serving as a partition from the rows of wooden pews that comprised the main seating area.

The walls were adorned with cream-colored curtains and a deep green valance at the top. The overall lighting was dim and warm, creating a solemn and quiet atmosphere.

Fabien and Celeste sat in the back. Blair stormed down the middle aisle with Ivy following him, pushing Samson’s stroller. He went to the middle aisle on the right and slammed his body down in one of the pews, folding his arms and angrily pouting. Jordi entered and went to the middle aisle on the right, sitting behind Ivy and Blair. Blair trembled with rage when he saw Jordi. Fabien grinned and adjusted his camcorder.

Rosemary was up front and hugged a middle-aged, unkempt white woman wearing a Marie Antoinette wig. It was her older sister, Daisy. She hugged her parents, Hazel and Wilbur. They also hugged Lily. Following them was an elderly man in a walker, struggling to walk while grasping onto it for support.

Lily stood a large photo of Borko dressed as Santa Claus, with Lily over his lap, to be spanked, and the inscription “1903-1987” was written under it on a stand.

Jordi inhaled sharply.

Blair: “Sit somewhere else, you big, fat thing!”

He hissed.

Blair: “Plenty of space in other seats!”

He added.

Jordi: “Shut up, Blair.”

He whispered hoarsely.

Blair: “You shut up, fatty!”

He fired back. Ivy rolled her eyes.

Fabien snickered as he recorded everything.

Soft music began to play as the celebrant entered the chapel and walked down the middle aisle. Everyone in the pews rose for him, except for Blair. The celebrant was a white man in his forties or fifties, with a salt-and-pepper crew cut, sharp features, and dressed in a black suit.

Celebrant: “Please be seated as we celebrate the life of Borko Brava.”

He began.

Celebrant: “Borko was born on Halloween in 1903. Nothing much is known about his life before he met Lily Huang-Ferraro, but what we do know is that he had a profoundly positive impact on little Lily’s life!”

Lily bawled on her mother’s lap. Rosemary caressed her daughter’s hair.

Blair turned to Jordi with a sneer.

Blair: “Can you move, Jordi?!”

He snapped. Jordi furrowed his eyebrows.

Jordi: “Shut up, you daft cow!”

He whispered hoarsely, sneering at him. Blair gasped. Ivy smirked a bit.

Celebrant: “Borko loved having dinner with the Huang-Ferraro family. His own daughter disowned him, so Borko cherished every moment of this family accepting him as theirs.”

He smiled.

Celebrant: “His favorite meal was Rosemary’s roasted turkey—”

Blair: “HE CALLED ME A COW, YOU KNOW!”

He screamed. The celebrant cleared his throat.

Celebrant: “Aside from changing Lily’s diaper—”

Blair: “JORDI CALLED ME A COW!”

He yelled. Jordi rolled his eyes. The celebrant swallowed and cleared his throat.

Celebrant: “...Borko loved nothing more than spending Christmas and Thanksgiving with—”

Blair: “HE CALLED ME A COW!”

He snapped. Fabien and Celeste covered their mouths to laugh while Fabien filmed everything. People in the pews tried to ignore Blair.

Blair: “JORDI CALLED ME A COW!”

He cried.

Ivy: “Blair, please stop!”

She whispered.

Blair: “JORDI CALLED ME A COOOOOOOOOOOW!!”

He whined.

The celebrant drew a long breath.

Celebrant: “Joining us today, we have Miss Marsha Marble singing a song Borko’s girlfriend, Lily Huang-Ferraro, wrote from the heart. Thank you for joining us and giving us this honor, Miss Marble.”

He smiled at a black woman in her sixties as she approached the podium. She had short, graying hair. She wore a black satin jacket with a colorful, floral pattern and a cream-colored blouse underneath with a high, ruffled collar, a billowing black skirt, and black heels.

Lily skipped over to the stereo and pressed the play button. Soft, upbeat piano music played. Miss Marble began singing.

Miss Marble: “He changed her diapeeeeer! He loved changing her dirty diapeeeeeer!”

Her falsetto quavered and filled the room, filling their ears with the bizarre juxtaposition of dirty diaper details delivered in an angelic voice. God, what a beautiful voice, but I feel SO sorry for the songstress, Jordi thought. Ivy read his thoughts and agreed with him. Blair’s jaw dropped.

Blair: “FETISH CRAP! IN MY SPACE?!”

He snapped as he banged on the pew where Jordi sat.

Blair: “I am SO sick of fetish crap! Ashley does it! Jordi sure as Hell does it, and so does every beatnik who hurt my feelings!”

He cried. Jordi inhaled sharply and rolled his eyes. I’m doing this for you, Tristan, he thought. Ivy read his mind and raised an eyebrow.

~

Jaxon entered Deimos’ house and ascended the stairs. He wore a black button-up shirt with a red dragon on each side facing each other, black jeans, and Chelsea boots. He stopped to gaze at the destroyed nursery. He heard a creak in the floor and turned to see Deimos in the foyer, standing outside of his bedroom. Deimos wore a black Helloween tank top, torn jeans, and black socks.

Jaxon: “Hey.”

He gave a little wave.

Deimos: “...Did you come to see me?”

He bowed his head. Jaxon pursed his lips and finally nodded.

Jaxon: “Yeah.”

Deimos smiled a bit.

Deimos: “Wanna come in my room?”

Jaxon: “Sure.”

He nodded.

He followed Deimos into his room, and he closed the door behind him.

Deimos: “What did you want to talk to me about?”

He asked him. Jaxon slowly walked toward the bed and sat with him.

Jaxon: “Am I overreacting to Celeste going to Borko’s funeral?”

Deimos raised an eyebrow.

Deimos: “I don’t know? Is she going to laugh at the idiocy with Fabien or to find information for Tristan?”

He asked him.

Jaxon: “...The former.”

Deimos nodded.

Deimos: “Why does it bother you?”

Jaxon shrugged.

Jaxon: “I don’t know. Maybe I feel like… I’m losing her.”

He admitted. Deimos frowned.

Deimos: “Why would you feel that way?”

Jaxon shrugged.

Jaxon: “Maybe I’m looking in too deep, but I feel… I can’t go to her about what bothers me. I have to confide in Percy. When I try to talk to her about this stuff, she tickles me or says these puns she got from Ashley.”

He sighed.

Deimos twisted his mouth.

Deimos: “That’s her way of trying to cheer you up. It’s probably the only way she knows how. She got it from Ashley, and it works wonders for them and Lazaros, because Lazaros worships Ashley and Ashley likely comes from another planet.”

He rolled his eyes.

Deimos: “Celeste wasn’t raised like you or me, or anyone we know. She doesn’t come from another planet, but she does behave like someone who has never been around people and doesn’t know how to socialize. She came to your rescue many times.”

He stated. Jaxon’s eyelids dipped.

Deimos: “Aside from Felipa, she has never been in a real relationship before.”

He added.

Deimos: “Why do you feel like you’re losing her?”

Jaxon: “She seems to prefer being with Fabien to me. Fabien bottles up his emotions as she does, turns to other things to distract him, he cooks the food she likes, and they have a lot in common.”

He pursed his lips.

Deimos: “She has stuff in common with Ashley, too.”

Jaxon: “Yeah, but she’s smitten with your dopey brother, and I don’t think Ashley is Celeste’s type.”

He said as his voice trailed off.

Deimos: “I’m not as good at this emotional stuff as Tristan is.”

He admitted.

Deimos: “I want to help you, but I don’t know if I can. I don’t understand why you view Fabien as a threat or why you’re upset about her going to a funeral for a joke of a man.”

He stated. Jaxon looked away and embraced himself. Deimos sighed.

Jaxon: “I’ve only ever been to one funeral, and I don’t want to do it again.”

He blurted. Deimos gazed at him and looked away.

Deimos: “I hear you…”

He whispered.

~

After the funeral, Blair stormed out of there and angrily shoved the old man with the walker over. Hazel and Wilbur rushed to him.

Hazel: “HORACE!”

She cried. Jordi rushed and knelt to help him.

Jordi: “I got you, sir. Are you okay?”

He asked him gently as he helped him get on his feet. Horace nodded as he trembled. Jordi kept him steady as he walked him to Wilbur’s car.

Hazel: “You’re a very kind young man.”

She said genially. Blair’s face flamed red. He stormed to his car, got in, and sped out of the parking lot, leaving Ivy and Samson behind.

Jordi heaved a deep sigh as he helped Horace get into the backseat of Wilbur’s car and folded up his walker to carry it to the trunk.

Ivy: “Thank you, Jordi, for doing that for Nana’s brother.”

She said genially.

Jordi: “Don’t mention it.”

Hazel: “Ivy, dear, didn’t your fiancé storm off in a huff?”

She asked nervously, glancing at Jordi.

Jordi: “I’ll drive you home.”

He smiled.

Hazel: “Your partner must be so lucky to have you.”

She said genially. Jordi smiled. I wish I were his boyfriend, he thought. Ivy read his thoughts. Who does he mean? She wondered.

~

Fabien and Celeste laughed as he recorded the events that unfolded with Blair shoving Horace over and leaving Ivy and Samson behind.

Fabien: “Told ya you can’t spell funeral without fun.”

He chuckled. Celeste flapped her arms.

Celeste: “Yeah!”

Fabien shut his camcorder off and cleared his throat.

Fabien: “Wanna grab a bite somewhere now?”

He nodded to his car. Celeste beamed at him; her smile spread to show her razor-sharp smile.

Celeste: “Yeah!”

She raised her hands.

Fabien: “So, uh, somewhere fancy or just the usual Fred’s 50s Diner?”

He raked his fingers through his hair. She blinked.

Celeste: “Fancy?”

Fabien reddened.

Fabien: “Like the Pearl Lion or something.”

He said as his voice trailed off.

Celeste: “We can go fancy since we’re dressed for it.”

She grinned. He smiled back at her.

Fabien: “Sure.”

~

Demetrio and Sylvia watched Blair as he cried in his racecar bed. Sylvia closed the door.

Sylvia: “Demetrio, he’s miserable, and I believe Ivy is causing this.”

Demetrio sighed.

Demetrio: “What do you suggest we do?”

Sylvia: “Demetrio, I didn’t stress Ashley cooking here just for Maria. I want to implore them to give Blair a chance. It would mean so much to Blair if he had Ashley.”

Demetrio sighed and nodded.

Demetrio: “I think Blair needs a person like Ashley in his life. Might keep him grounded.”

He swallowed.

~

Jordi drove Ivy home. Ivy sat in the passenger’s seat, holding Samson and gazing intently at Jordi. He’s blocking his thoughts, she thought. Tristan told him, she thought.

Ivy: “Did you know Borko?”

She asked. Jordi gripped the steering wheel.

Jordi: “I went on behalf of Tristan.”

He replied. Ivy quirked an eyebrow.

Ivy: “What are you to Tristan?”

Jordi: “We’re good friends.”

He said evenly with some hesitation.

Jordi pulled up in front of Blair’s place. Ivy smiled tightly at him.

Ivy: “Thanks for taking Samson and me home.”

Jordi nodded.

Jordi: “You’re welcome.”

He got out of the car, popped the trunk, and pulled out Samson’s stroller. He walked Ivy to her door, carrying Samson’s stroller.

Jordi: “Have a good night.”

He said to her and went back to his car. Ivy watched him go and smiled at him. I wonder why he did that for Tristan, she thought.

~

Fabien and Celeste arrived at the Peal Lion. Celeste dashed ahead of Fabien to sit by the fish aquarium and pulled out a seat for him. Fabien laughed a bit, shrugged, and walked to the table to sit down. She sat down across from him and gazed at the fish tank. He stared at her.

Fabien: “I had fun today!”

She glanced at him and smiled.

Celeste: “Me too, Fab! I loved how, out of all the weirdness of the funeral, Blair managed to stick out the most.”

She giggled. He laughed with her.

He shifted in his seat and pursed his lips. He reached out to grasp her hand and stopped himself. He withdrew his hand and patted it. What am I even thinking? He wondered.

~

Tristan sat at his computer, looking at the map of Palm Tree State. He looked specifically at Bellewell Brook and zoomed out.

Tristan: “No businesses in sight, not even a lone gas station or a corner store that opened in the 50s.”

He muttered.

Tristan: “Does anyone live around here?”

He checked the map for residences.

Tristan: “So far, nothing.”

He sighed.

He saw there was an ostrich farm about ten miles from where Borko was dumped, but felt they had nothing to do with it.

Tristan twisted his mouth. This is where I wish I could speak to Sylvia, seeing how she has access to numerous directories, he thought. She did have someone for me to meet so that I may have a word with her, he thought as he rose from his seat.

~

Tristan arrived at Sylvia’s office.

Tristan: “Sylvia? Are you in?”

He called out to her. He heard the sound of fingers clicking away at the keyboard and strolled to where the sound came from.

Tristan walked into the back and saw a woman of Asian descent seated behind the desk. She had very long, black hair tied in a half ponytail, with bangs framing her face. She wore a Gothic and punk outfit consisting of a laced-up corset top and shorts, accompanied by a studded belt and a chain. She also wore black tights, black platform boots, and various accessories, including bracelets, necklaces, skull earrings, and purple cat-eye glasses.

Tristan’s eyes widened.

Tristan: “Excuse me, do you know where I can find Dr. Hughes?”

He asked genially. The woman raised her head, and her eyes grew large when she saw Tristan. The woman grabbed Tristan’s hand. He gasped, taken aback by her sudden reaction.

Tristan: “Excuse me!?”

He laughed awkwardly.

Etsuko: “Oh, don’t be shy now, handsome! I am Etsuko Hashimoto! What is your name, or can I call you handsome?”

She teased. Tristan blinked and blushed.

Tristan: “I’m Tristan Trémaux. I’m terribly sorry, Madame. I came here to see Dr. Hughes about a matter. Do you know when she will be in?”

He asked calmly.

Etsuko: “I’m sure I can help you with that! Well, well, aren’t you brave walking into my domain like this?! I was working on a device that detects people’s scent! Want to be the first test subject?”

She smiled. Tristan hung his head.

Tristan: “...I would love that, Madame, but I do need to see Dr. Hughes. Perhaps some other time?”

Etsuko raised a toy gun with a dome at the end at Tristan. The electronic, tinny voice said, “I detect… Eros by Versace.” Tristan paused.

Etsuko: “Do you wear that?”

She grinned. Tristan drew a breath and nodded.

She clasped her hands together, and her eyes sparkled.

Etsuko: “It works! I am SUCH a genius!”

Tristan forced a smile.

Etsuko: “So are you here to help with Blair?”

She smirked.

Tristan: “No, I don’t wish to be around him lest I hurt his feelings.”

He said dryly.

Etsuko: “That’s really good!”

She clasped her hands.

Etsuko: “Because Sylvia said she will do anything to make him stop crying, and nothing will work! I am working on a device that mutes people.”

She grinned. Tristan chuckled.

Tristan: “Good luck with that.”

He drew a long breath.

Etsuko: “So, Sylvia won’t be in today because of Blair, so here I am! I am a genius, thanks for acknowledging it! So, what did you need?!”

She asked eagerly. Tristan drew an exasperated breath.

Tristan: “Well, you see, I was looking up Bellewell Brook, and this is where Borko Brava was found.”

He began. Etsuko pounded the palm of her hand.

Etsuko: “Yeah, Blair went to that funeral with his fiancée! Her sister was dating that weirdo, but she’s a weirdo, too. Why do you wanna know? Was he a friend of yours?”

Tristan shook his head.

Tristan: “No, Madame, he wasn’t. I don’t know why I wish to know more, but my hunches tell me to investigate. Anyway, I need to know if there are any residences nearby.”

He said genially.

Etsuko: “Okay, that’s super easy! Why didn’t you do it?”

Tristan blinked.

Tristan: “I don’t have access to these directories for one, and I guess I am not the greatest genius ever.”

He said dryly. She grinned at him.

Etsuko: “You flatterer, you!”

She waved her hand. Tristan laughed humorlessly.

Her hands flew over the keyboard.

Etsuko: “So, according to this, the closest residences are Dana Harris, who lives ten miles from Bellewell Brook, and the other is Dr. Nigel Springer, who lives five miles from there.”

She said, her voice trailing off. Tristan froze. Springer?! He thought as he turned ashen. Could he have…? He wondered.

Tristan heard the harrumph and raised his head to see Sylvia. She smiled at Tristan.

Sylvia: “Oh, hello, Tristan! I see you met Etsuko Hashimoto! She will be working here! How are you two getting along?”

She asked and folded her arms.

Tristan: “Marvelously.”

He said dryly. Sylvia smiled gently.

Etsuko: “He’s soooo much hotter in person, Sylvie.”

She grinned. Tristan flushed red. Sylvia sighed.

Sylvia: “I think Tristan could use a break or two from the flirtations, Etsuko!”

She chided her gently. Tristan waved his hand.

Tristan: “I’m going to leave anyway.”

He sighed. Sylvia turned to Tristan.

Sylvia: “Of course, Tristan! Do give Deimos, Celeste, and Jaxon my regards.”

She nodded.

Etsuko: “And I want to meet them!”

She pouted.

Tristan: “Of course.”

He forced a smile.

Sylvia: “Before you depart, Tristan? A word?”

Tristan raised an eyebrow.

~

Sylvia led Tristan to her office. It was a plan office with a desk, a computer, shelves with several books, Sylvia’s many degrees, and pictures of her with her achievements. Sylvia sat behind the desk and folded her hands. Tristan cleared his throat and slowly sat down. He crossed his legs and folded his hands over them. Sylvia locked her gaze on Tristan.

Sylvia: “So, I’m sure you’re aware we’re having a dilemma with Blair.”

She began. Tristan rolled his eyes.

Tristan: “When aren’t you?”

He replied wryly. Sylvia smiled.

Sylvia: “He’s getting worse, Tristan.”

Tristan twisted his mouth.

Tristan: “I’d suggest therapy, but I know you need to put in the work for that, and Blair isn’t going to.”

He wagged his head.

Sylvia: “He has a broken heart, Tristan.”

Tristan laughed bitterly.

Tristan: “I had my heart broken. I never lashed out at people or whined in Bungle servers about nothing.”

He said acidly.

Sylvia: “You know how to deal with things, and you regulate your emotions well. Blair does not.”

She said coolly. Tristan raised his eyebrows and clicked his tongue.

Tristan: “No news there.”

He muttered.

He sat up.

Tristan: “Are you insinuating this is Ashley’s fault or Ivy’s fault?”

He challenged her. Sylvia took a deep breath.

Sylvia: “Neither, of course. I am stating that Ashley needs to give Blair a chance.”

Tristan gaped at her.

Tristan: “A chance? A chance at what exactly? They made their stance on Blair abundantly clear.”

He said firmly. She cleared her throat.

Sylvia: “Tristan, that is simply untrue. Blair has bought them a car and has money stashed away to set up their dream cat café. They were drawn to Lazaros without knowing him, and if you ask me, that boy isn’t right.”

She sighed. Tristan removed his glasses to rub his eyes. He put them back on.

Tristan: “So because Blair did these ‘kind deeds’ for them, they should give him a chance?! Blair did these things for Ashley to get something from them, and that is not what makes a kind person, Sylvia! Blair should have done those things because he wanted to make Ashley’s life easier or make them happy, not to get them to date him.”

He said firmly. Sylvia drew a breath.

Sylvia: “So you think Lazaros isn’t after them for something?”

Tristan sighed.

Tristan: “I have my opinions on Lazaros, and while they aren’t high, this is who Ashley chose, and this is who they want to spend the rest of their life with. It’s not my life and I couldn’t care less.”

He replied.

Sylvia: “So you should be on board with Ashley being with Blair? It would make Blair’s life easier and therefore ours!”

She said flippantly. Tristan gaped at her and leaned over.

Tristan: “Are you serious? Are you stating Ashley should be with Blair romantically so he will stop whining and stop throwing tantrums?”

He asked grimly. Sylvia hung her head.

Sylvia: “I want Blair to be happy.”

Tristan: “And you think enabling his bad behavior will solve this?”

He laughed bitterly and leaned back.

Tristan: “This is what you’re doing right now. The child throws a tantrum in the store. You, as the guardian, kowtow to their demands by buying him the toy he wants to get him to stop throwing tantrums.”

He said sharply.

Tristan: “Except this isn’t a toy, but a human being. You want to force a human being to be with him to pacify him.”

He said through clenched teeth. Sylvia sighed.

Sylvia: “It’s NOT like that, Tristan!”

She waved her hands.

Tristan: “No, it IS like that, Sylvia.”

He snapped.

Tristan: “Are you forgetting how HORRIBLE Blair was to Ashley after they rejected him? Do you honestly think that can be undone?”

He challenged her.

Sylvia: “I think bygones should be bygones.”

She sighed.

Tristan: “Some things can’t be forgiven.”

He said firmly.

Tristan: “And I do not believe this will make Blair happy. He may be happy for a little while, but he will revert to his ways and treat Ashley horribly. All you’re doing is putting a Band-Aid over a leak.”

He shrugged.

Sylvia: “Well, how about I tell Ashley? I think they would change their mind.”

She smiled. Tristan rolled his eyes.

Tristan: “I think that is a terrible idea, Sylvia. Blair is their Achilles’ heel. Just be glad they agreed to come over to cook for Demetrio’s sister.”

He sighed.

Sylvia: “Actually, the sole reason I asked Ashley to come over was to propose this idea to them!”

She smiled. Tristan sank into his seat.

Tristan: “Don’t do it, Sylvia. Ashley is not going to like this.”

Sylvia: “Lazaros throws several tantrums, too.”

Tristan gaped at her.

Tristan: “I know this. What’s your point? This is who Ashley chose, and it’s not my life to live. Who Ashley chooses does not affect me.”

He said wearily.

Tristan rolled his eyes and rose.

Sylvia: “I just want to fix this, Tristan. Can’t you try to understand where I am coming from?”

She looked at him beseechingly.

Tristan: “You’re not fixing anything, Sylvia. If you go through with this, you will make everything worse.”

He said firmly.

Tristan: “Have a nice day.”

He grinned widely and walked out of her office. Sylvia drew a long breath.

Sylvia: “Of course, he hates Blair, and Ashley is seeing his boyfriend’s brother.”

She muttered.

Tristan stood outside the office, rolling his eyes.

Tristan: “I heard that, and that isn’t why I said what I said. I don’t care for Lazaros either, but he is the lesser of the two evils.”

He huffed.

Tristan: “Well, I warned her, and if she doesn’t adhere to my warnings, that’s on them to deal with.”

~

Dougal sat in a dark, formal Victorian dining room at a long, ornate wooden dining table with multiple chairs along each side. Lit candles in elaborate candelabras were placed on the dining table, further enhancing the formal setting. On the table was a large roast turkey, accompanied by casseroles with mashed potatoes, roasted green beans, a steamed vegetable medley, turkey stuffing, and cranberry sauce. There were several wine glasses with bottles of Pinot Noir.

A large, shimmering crystal chandelier hung above the table, casting a warm light and serving as the room’s centerpiece.

The walls were black, contrasting with the heavy, floor-length red velvet curtains that framed the large windows. Trees banged against the windows, and the rain and rumbles of thunder echoed through the home.

In the fireplace on the far wall, a fire burned and crackled, adding a warm, flickering glow to the space. The mantelpiece was adorned with candlesticks, vases, and a large, gold-framed mirror.

An ornate rug with a dark, intricate pattern covered the wood floor.

A framed portrait hung on the wall of a tall man with white hair standing over a rhinoceros he had shot and killed.

At the end of the table, a man sat swishing a glass of pinot noir. Dougal cut his turkey with a fork and a knife, ate the mashed potatoes from the casserole, and washed it down with a glass of wine. More food was on the floor, his clothes, and his face than on the plate.

Dougal finished his dinner, let out a loud belch, rose, and ripped a giant fart.

Dougal: “Well, that meal sucked!”

He announced.

Dougal: “I’m going to go out for a spin and get me some Voyage Burger.”

He grinned inanely. He waddled out of the dining room and left.

The man was a white man with medium-length wavy white hair, a rectangular-shaped face, and round glasses that overhung his straight nose and over his piercing green eyes. He wore a double-breasted royal purple suit, a white pressed shirt with the collar turned up, a red silk cravat tied in a prominent knot, and white loafers on his feet. He chuckled and smirked and then took a sip of his wine.