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“Liora! Girl get yer feet up!”
“Excuse me? Sir?” A small woman, too small to be confidently asking. “Can you stop yelling at the students?”
That made him pause. Momentarily stunned, he did stop.
He turned to look at this woman and quickly categorized her as someone he did need to stay neutral with. Her kid (Cathy or Kitty, or some other c/k name) was currently supporting his daughter, holding her hands high above her head while his little girl balanced, upside-down.
Her kid had also been over at his house for three out of the five days after school, and all of Sunday. This week alone.
It was obvious it was her kid because they looked The Exact Same.
Same brown almost black almond shaped eyes, same coily black hair, same straight nose, they even had the same grimace.
Quite the contrary to his daughter and himself. Liora. A name he honestly couldn't remember where they got it from, and with his luck it was probably from some 90’s alternative short film. But Liora Lonnie-Halls sounded cute, so they stuck with it.
If anyone, she looked like Lewis. Olive skin, covered in birthmarks, they talked the same, walked the same, did the same nose-wrinkle when he came home smelling like oil and dirt. The only thing she and him had in common were their crooked noses. And the length of their hair, I suppose.
Daryl never did get his dying wish.
Daryl did once get to meet Liora, and he did ask her, “Wouldn’t you rather yer daddy cut that mop off and look like a real man?” Once that got translated into toddler speak, she was inconsolable.
She did not want her daddy to cut his princess hair. That was the first and last time they let either of their kids around Daryl.
Their other kid, their oldest, was the spitting image of Cliff. He had the pin straight blond hair, the icy blue eyes, the jaw, the glare that broke the genetic boundaries of adoption. He, a few years older than Liora at the time of this visit, jumped to Cliff’s defense. Cliff wasn’t yet “daddy” to him, it was just too soon. But shortly after that he did start growing his hair out, leaning into all the “You look just like your dad!” comments.
It probably would have helped if his son was here. People were always much more open to Cliff when his mini-me with straight sunshine for a personality was there.
Or if Lewis was here. If Lewis was here, he would have apologized and explained the situation by now and they could go back to watching their kid’s cheer auditions.
Unfortunately, this lady got stuck with Cliff.
He dropped off the bleacher seat he was standing onto the walkway, and turned his head and looked down at her.
She made a face of regret, phone clutched in a well manicured hand.
Sometime between having a son with the same eyes as him, an aspiring hairdresser daughter, a husband who loved his eyes, and having no time for the upkeep that were bangs, he let them grow out.
His eyes, along with his general self, continued to unfortunately attract attention.
The reactions stayed the same. Sometimes they tried to be polite about it. Most times they just stared a little too long to be normal.
But these reactions were the best.
The woman took a couple steps back as she regained her composure.
“It’s just, you’re making the other parents uncomfortable.”
A quick glance over her shoulder proved that was not true, because most of them were doing the exact same thing. There was a couple painted in the school colors waving a flag with their kid’s face on it two seats over. A woman was basically sideways on the railing holding a microphone screaming her lungs out. He couldn't wait to see how far they would go for games and competitions if this was what they did for auditions.
How on earth was he the one making them uncomfortable.
“Sorry, I don’t think we’ve been acquainted yet. Cliff Lonnie-Halls.” He stuck his hand out for her to shake.
Vague recognition reflected across her eyes, “Tabitha Abbot. Tabby.” She shook his hand. “Coco’s mom.” Coco, shit that was an easy one, how’d I forget that?
“Nice t’meet ya.” He let go of her hand to shield his eyes from the blinding 10 am sun, looking back to the field to find Liora. Only for her to be climbing up the front railing on the bleachers, dripping sweat and flushed, her ponytail beginning to fall out.
“Hi, Mrs. Tabby!” She smiled wide, showing off her braces.
To their left, an equally disheveled looking Coco comes stomping up the ramp- “Hi, Mom,” and stops in front of them and next to where Liora’s given up on climbing over the rail and has crossed her arms, hanging onto the top with the underside of her arms, “Hi, Mr. Liora’s Pa.”
Tabby’s face drops, the tapping of her nails on her phone protector stops. Coco either doesn't notice or chooses to ignore it and keeps talking, “Coach said we have an hour for lunch at twelve, can me and Liora go to the gas station and get icees?”
Liora continues, “It’s like two blocks away and we don’t have to cross any big streets!” Cliff quirks his eyebrow at her, “Plu-eese, Daddy? I have money!” she reaches a hand out to him, a plea to his humanity.
“Tell you what,” he takes her hand and steps close enough to scoop her up from her underarms and set her on solid ground (the walkway between the railing and the bleacher seats), “Yer Dad’s comin’ t’drop off yer lunch inna bit, give ‘im a call, see if he’ll pick up yer icees.”
“Nooo, he thinks the sugar turns me evil.” She clings to his hand, both of hers holding around his palm and still not connecting.
In Lewis’s defense, it absolutely does. It gives her way too much energy and leaves them dealing with an extra hyper thirteen year old. A horrible time for them.
Buuutttt… she’s already done like twenty different flips and it's not even noon. And the sugar would have to wear off by the time auditions were over. And the extra energy might help. And it's like 90º out, hell he could use an icee too.
He looks over to Coco’s mom for help and finds her staring at Liora, and the look of absolute trust and assurance she had on.
“If Mrs. Tabby says yes, then y'all can go.” He’s been told other parents don't like this, don’t like being the bad guy or getting put on the spot like this. Unfortunately, that is his go to when it comes to kids that aren't his.
Their attention turns to Tabby, shark-like, and like a couple of creepy puppets they simultaneously say, “Can we get icees?”
She appears completely unprepared for this, but quickly remembers the script. “I don’t like you girls walking around alone, especially in uniform.”
“My Pa can walk with us.” Alright, yes he can and he will but way to get voluntold.
Tabby glances at him and back to the girls. Out on the field one of the coaches is gathering the kids back up.
Liora shakes his arm to kickstart his brain, “Uh- yeah, I’ll walk them.”
The girl’s attention turns back to Tabby. She hesitantly nods and starts to speak when a whistle cuts through, more kids start to gather back on the field and parents start getting rowdy again.
“Thanks, Mr. Liora’s dad! Thanks Mom!” Coco turned and ran back to where the coaches were starting to split people into teams.
“Thank you!” Liora pulled him down by the bicep and rolled up on her tiptoes to peck his cheek before following Coco.
That left them right back where they started.
“I appreciate that.” Tabby turns to walk back to, presumably, her husband without another word.
Cliff sits and leans back against the bleachers. Sometimes, the stupidest little things had him just about crawling for a cheap cigarette and a shitty beer. That woman’s daughter had breakfast with them on Sunday. And not even a thanks he gets for that. She probably doesn’t even know the only reason her kid’s passing algebra is because of his husband. Pity.
—
Lewis ends up showing a halfish hour early. Something something, the prototype blew up, something something, the new intern got fired, something something, they’re all getting new work computers. Also, they had to send everyone home early so he can stay for the rest of auditions! How fun.
He brought with him a cooler, in it their offering (a subway foot-long, topped with everything but jalapenos and mustard), a variety of sporty drinks, water, and snacks, and because Lewis does know who he married, a couple beers in a discrete cozy.
The obvious questions are asked, how are auditions going? Good, Liroa’s better than half the varsity team. What have they done so far? Flips, twirls, a couple of kicks. How’s her little friend doing? She’s fine, not as good as Liora though.
The husbandly things are done, Cliff says some lewd comment about Lewis’s ass in those jeans, Lewis calls him a whore, Cliff purrs at him- something Javier taught him decades ago that he will not let go. If he did that before they started dating they would’ve lasted not even a month. The ring on Lewis’s finger prevents him from getting too irritated now.
Then, it happened. Tabby turned around. Fully turned around. And you would’ve thought she saw a rabbi fucking a monk, the way she clutched her pearls and gasped louder than any cheering Mrs. Horizontal With A Megaphone could've done.
Everyone looked. Obviously. If there really was a rabbi giving nasty backshots to a monk, wouldn’t you have to see, too?
Tabby looked away before anyone could clock where she was looking, but Cliff knew. He knew they were the fornicating religious leaders.
Crazy thing was, they weren’t doing anything crazy.
Cliff was still leaned back, kid sized gatorade half gone and staining his mouth a little blue, Lewis was riffling through the cooler, a hand on Cliff’s mid thigh. Absolutely nothing different from the couple three rows behind them.
That was a little disappointing. He wouldn’t have taken her for a homophobe, her daughter was nothing but respectful.
—
Liora came running back once they were dismissed for lunch, she sat in front of them and devoured her sandwich in record time, following it up with a carpi-sun and a couple gulps of water, all the while talking.
A few more first time auditionees, including Coco, gathered around her. And because Lewis was still incapable of not being polite, he offered them all drinks.
Cliff turned and not so discretely spoke against the side of Lewis’s face, “I ain’t the dad that brings drinks for everyone.”
“You aren’t the dad that’s gunna walk Lio down the aisle then.”
The sly little grin dropped clean off Cliff’s face. He was not above making a scene. “Don’t say that t’me”
Lewis chuckled and pressed a kiss to the corner of Cliff’s frowning mouth.
—
Clifton Lonnie-Halls loved his children very much. He cared for their well being. He loved spending time with them, they were his world.
Never ever will he ever again volunteer to walk with them in this weather.
93º and humidity so high they were basically walking through a pool.
The rest of the group that sat with Liora for the eating part of their lunch break wanted to get icees too. Of course they did. And of course, their parents upon seeing the 6’2 fridge that would be walking them, agreed.
This 93º could not be the same 93º he grew up with. 93º in high school was a little too warm, but no big deal. Now? He could feel his insides cooking.
“Hey, you want me to put your hair up?” Lewis, his lord and savior with mind-reading powers.
“God, yes.” He slid a disintegrating hair tie off his wrist and handed it to Lewis before turning around.
In front of them, the girls took notice and paused, taking the time to watch a ladybug walk in the crease of the sidewalk.
Lewis scooped all Cliff’s hair back and did quick work of untangling it, running his fingers from root to tip, and putting it in a low pony. Not the best option, but anything else and he looked like a hippie or a barbie cosplayer.
It did not help nearly as much as he hoped, but the gas station was less than a block away now, he could handle it.
—
The walk back was better. The girls got their icees and maybe a sweet treat, Lewis did not say anything about the amount of sugar because, oh look who got the biggest size available and filled it to the absolute brim? Cliff. And was it almost gone by the time they got back.
They had entrusted Mrs. Megaphone to watch the cooler while they were gone, and found her guarding it with her life against a small group of hooligans (her toddlers).
Auditions went fine overall, the temperature and humidity dropped sometime after one-ish and stayed at a comfortable level for the rest of the afternoon. The coaches kept putting Liora in, asking her to be an example, so that was probably good?
Parents stayed loud all the while, more than once they overheard a seasoned cheer-mom compliment the "tan girl with long hair and purple braces." So, overall their hopes were high. Even if her getting in would inevitably cost them bands.
Finally, audition's ended, 4:30 on the dot. Just in time for dinner.
Coaches asked parents to gather on the field for a brief talk on expectations and what things would look like moving forwards while the students collected their things. Every kid had a place on a team, there were three teams to make, emails with what team your kid got and more information will be sent out by the end of the week, yadda yadda.
Cliff felt Lewis brush a hand up his spine and settle on his shoulder, leaning against him a bit. Cliff turned, expecting to find something normal, something predictable.
Not Lewis chattin' it up with Tabby. Not her leaning forward, whispering at his husband.
Tabby must have said something exceptionally funny because Lewis sputtered out a laugh before shaking Cliff by the shoulder and gesturing at him with the other hand, whispering something back.
Cliff took the shot and glanced at Tabby's husband, a stocky air force veteran, if the cap he wore was right. But he was focused on whatever the coaches were on about now.
The talk reminded Cliff of why he used to skip the first week of school. People who think they're the shit talking way to quiet about something stupid and pretending they don't see everyone not paying attention.
Next to him, Tabby squeals quietly and still gets shushed by her husband. She swats him with the back of her hand before turning back to Lewis and muttering "Husbands."
Lewis took Cliff's left hand with his left and held them up for Tabby to see.
"Don't I know it."
She did the same eardrum busting gasp, "Oh my god!"
Military Man shushed her, she turned around and whisper-yelled at him to shut the fuck up.
"Oh, my god oh mygodohmygodohmygoddd! And you didn't invite me?!" She reached for their hands and brought them down to her level to inspected the rings.
Who was this woman and why did she expect to be at their wedding?
"It was barely a wedding, we just singed the papers and had a nice dinner. And you'd just had Coco, I didn't want to drag you out."
Tabby turned their hands over, palms up, to inspect the engraving on the underside of the rings, "Oh, but I'm sure Jonas was there."
"Jonas was my best man, of course he was there." He lightly pulls back, giving the suggestion that she should give them their hands back.
"You didn't post anything ether! How was I supposed to know."
That was the point, lady. It's on a need to know basis. If you didn't need to know and you weren't observant enough to see, it's none of your business.
Cliff pulled their hands back a bit too harsh to be natural. She got the hint.
—
The worst thing Lewis had ever made him do was quit driving his baby, his treasure, his old fuck ass mustard yellow Chevy truck. Lewis was entirely right in doing so, it was fine when it was just them and the occasional Scratch, but with two kids and a seemingly ever-expanding amount of animals. (the worst was the five ducks that followed Lewis, and only Lewis, around wherever he went. They were grown and in duck-rehab now, but that spring into summer was harsh.) Parking that baby in the garage and picking something a little more reliable, a little easier to clean, with a lot more "inside" space was in everyone's interest.
That car eventually turned into Lewis's car, simply because while Cliff's truck was technically not road legal, it still worked fine, and still was Cliff's baby. The day it basically blew up- long story- was a sad, sad day.
For two weeks, the car was both of theirs. On the afternoon of the 14th day, an older fellow called looking to sell his truck. Now, Cliff's garage, the one he worked for years to own and make it the great thing it was, used to buy cars and trucks, fix them up and resell for a ridiculous up-charge. And this man sounded old enough to remember when they did, but they hadn't since before Cliff started working there.
As he was explaining the apparently complex idea of "shops change," the man let a little something slip, a little something along the lines of "79' 4×4 Ford Super Cab."
"…"
"No- sorry sir, yes, we can check that out, now I can't promise anything but I can take a look."
Check it out he did, and it was gorgeous.
Chipped paint, a good amount of rust along the fender, it would need to be completely rewired and the seats would need to be torn out and replaced, but for what he was asking? Nothing short of gorgeous.
It took about a month of work and too much money to get her road ready, and Cliff had to pull his last favor with Scratch to get the paint completely redone, but she was pretty and safe. He kind of felt like a poser the first couple days of driving it.
He got over that pretty quick.
They lived walking distance from the school, a small blessing, and one Lewis had taken advantage of earlier, but no way they were walking back when his gorgeous girl could take them.
Liora ran in front of them, tossing her backpack into the truck bed and throwing herself against the locked door.
"Open! Open, open, openopenopenopen!"
"Calm down, Hon." Cliff handed Liora's duffel bag he carried to Lewis to put in the truck bed and fished the keys out of his pocket, unlocking the truck.
Instead of pulling the front seat down and climbing over, like any normal person would do when encountered with an extended cab, Liora chose to squeeze herself between the top of the seats and the roof of the car.
Cliff stood, watching. Every time she did this he was increasingly impressed and insanely jealous of her. Why didn't he think of that 20 years ago?
She oof 'd down out of sight as Cliff climbed into the drivers seat.
He buckled his seatbelt- trying to be a good influence and all- and adjusted his rear view mirror because Liora always kicked it out of place. In the adjusted rear view, he did not see Liora.
"Lio, wher'd ya go?"
A hand stuck straight up. Cliff leaned back a bit, enough to see Liora had made herself comfortable, laying down, munching on some fruit snacks. She had her seatbelt on though, so no complaint's were made.
He turned to look at his darling husband, and found him losing a wrestling with his seatbelt. Shakily, Cliff let a breath out.
"That better not be you laughing." Lewis glared over his shoulder, still pulling on the seatbelt.
Cliff laughed for real and leaned over to try his hand with the seatbelt. Stupid thing wanted to be pulled straight down, not forwards, but they got it eventually.
"Thanks." Lewis stopped Cliff with a hand on his jaw, bringing him back in for a kiss.
Cliff muttered something between You're welcome and Love you as he kissed back.
When all of a sudden an agitated, "Ewwwww" came from the back seat.
Lewis whipped his head around. She couldn't even see them.
"How do you think you came to exist?"
"You adopted me." The eye roll was audible.
"Not like we weren't tryin'." Cliff pecked Lewis's cheek and turned to back the truck up.
"EEWWW!"
—
Liora passed out before they even left the parking lot. Face pressed against the seat, limbs awkwardly askew and softly snoring. Lewis took the half empty baggie of fruit snacks from her limp hand and finished them off.
Cliff took a turn a bit too hard and they heard Liora's bags slide and hit the side of the pickup.
"How'd you know uh- Coco's ma?" He shook the stick shift.
"Had AP Stats with her in high school." Lewis offered the last fruit snack.
Cliff shook his head, "We went to high school w'her?"
"I dunno that you did, but she was cool. Went to her grad party. I think her husband was like two years before us?"
Cliff glanced sidelong at Lewis.
"She's cool?"
"Yeah. Sid's closer to her but we'd talk."
"…Huh."
Cliff had his thinking face on. That was never good.
"Why?"
"Nothin', don't worry 'bout it." He shook the stick shift again.
Lewis took off his glasses to inspect, "That hasn't worked for the past decade," he nudged Cliff's arm away and used the bottom of his shirt to clean them, "why would it work now."
"Shit, it's nothin' she was just weird t'me before you showed up."
There was a stubborn smudge on the left lens that just wouldn't come off. "Weird like what."
"She just-" Lewis licked the lens- "told me I was makin' the oth'r parents uncomfortable."
"Ha! That makes sense, she hated your guts."
"Fuck I'd do to her?" Liora groaned in the backseat. Lewis hit Cliff's shoulder with the back of his hand, "Don't cuss!"
"She's thirteen, Red, not three."
"You're three." Liora muttered as she sat up.
Lewis slid his glasses back on, "Tabby hated you 'cuz she thought you pulled the fire alarm and made everyone evacuate the junior science fair. The judges missed her demonstration and she was disqualified."
"Oh, Pa did that for sure." Liora pulled Cliff's hair over the back of his seat and started to loosely braid his ponytail.
Actually, he vividly remembers doing that. Entirely on purpose. Because attendance was mandatory but he really didn't want to be there.
"Yeah, duh. But don't tell Tabby that."
Cliff pulls into their driveway, "Hear that babydoll? No snitching."
Liora giggles, "That's not why she hates you anyways." She lets the braid fall apart.
"Why's she hate me then?" Cliff wants to call her a smart-ass. He won't, not in front of Lewis.
Liora's climbing over the seat and pushing Lewis out before Cliff has the chance to park. She lands on solid ground and whispers something to Lewis. His jaw drops as she continues. By the time she's told her tale, Lewis's bent over cackling.
Cliff hands Liora her backpack and duffel bag, he's just about to ask what that was when she skips away, up to the porch, "No snitching!" she throws over her shoulder.
"What was all that 'bout?" He offer's Lewis a hand to right himself.
"I can't snitch." Lewis takes the offered hand and a deep breath.
"We're married. It doesn't count."
Lewis takes another deep breath, still getting over the giggles.
"Tabby's husband thinks you're hot."
"What?!"