Brad walked into the kitchen of the apartment one of the former members of their former church had given his mother to live in after the mess that had happened last week. She was humming happily and was taking a tray of cookies out of the oven. "Mom, you made cookies? Is there a bake sale somewhere?" He knew his mother had only baked sweets before when there was a church fundraiser.
"No, sweetie," she replied with a smile. "These are all for you and Chris, just not all in one day," she told him as she pulled him into a hug after setting the hot tray on a cooling rack. "I happen to love baking, and always have. I never did it much while I was married to... well the man you and I have escaped from, because his opinions of my skills were never very positive. You know how he felt about pride and boasting. Well just between me and you, my wonderful happy gay son, I like to brag about my baking because I am damned good at it." She laughed as Brad choked on the soda he taken from the fridge while she was talking, watching him snort the drink out his nose. "Oh, that's gotta burn, son. Anyway, I have been discussing things with Bambi, and she and I are going to open a bakery coffee book shop in town."
"Mom, you said a curse word," Brad whispered as he wiped the tears from his eyes and soda from his face.
"I just might have, son," she admitted with a twinkle in her eyes and a grin. "What do you think of that?"
"All right, Mom!" Brad cheered. "So tell me more about your bakery. Will I be working there after school and weekends?"
"Only if you want to, son. You see, I will have the landlord of the building training as a pastry chef with me."
"Wait, huh?"
"My son, he's so eloquent," she snickered at her own sarcasm. "At the urging of his new adoptive parents, Ronnie Phillips filed a lawsuit against New Hope Church for damages since, along with his birth parents, it was the pastor of that awful group of bigots and hypocrites that beat him and put him into the hospital for several weeks. Unable to come up with the funds necessary to pay off the debt, the congregation was left no alternative by the judge. The church building itself, and the house next to it, has been deeded over to him. You might know these things if you did more than stare into your boyfriend's eyes all day and try to suck the lips off of him every evening in our living room."
"Wait, you mean Ronnie Tasick got adopted? By Miss Switch and Aunt Bambi?"
"Yes, dear, his parents signed over complete custody and allowed his adoption just after their sentencing at their abuse trial, yesterday. Sadly, they like their pastor, refuse to give up their outdated and bigoted views on sexuality, morality, and religion."
"I did know about the lawsuit and stuff, just not about the adoption," Brad informed his mother. "So what's Ronnie going to do with a church and a house?" He hadn't heard the door of the apartment open but he certainly heard the voice that answered his question.
"Well, your mom is going to teach me to bake stuff in the church as soon as we get the place remodeled a bit, and I was thinking that you and she could move back into the house if you wanted to." Brad spun around to see a still bruised and scarred Ronnie standing in his living room beside a grinning Chris.
"Mrs. Sweets and Brad, I would like for you to meet my cousin, Ronnie Phillips," Chris announced formally.
"Mrs. Sweets?" Brad and his mom both asked in confusion.
"Well, you told me I could come up with a nickname as long as it wasn't bad," Chris defended. "You're going to be making all kinds of good stuff at your bakery with my new cousin here, so I thought Mrs. Sweets. I could go with Mrs. Baker though if you want?"
"Mrs. Sweets is fine, Chris," the woman smiled. "I did think I would be getting called something else more often, however."
"Oh, you'll still be Mom," he assured her. "I just gotta have something else to call you around other people so they don't think my Dad married you."
"I think it's ok to call your mother-in-law Mom, dude," Ronnie laughed. At the looks from Brad and Chris, he just laughed harder. "Please, the three of us are the most famous gay guys in town. Everyone knows who we all are and that you two are an old married couple now." He suddenly stood up straight and got serious. "I really want to thank you Brad, for refusing to testify against me over the bathroom at school. I get that it really was a sexual assault, and I would have been on the sex offenders list and living in juvenile jail and stuff and well... I just... I don't deserve... after what I did and said...." his voice trailed off as the tears rolled down his face. Brad jumped up from his chair and hugged the boy, although he made sure to do it carefully.
"That bathroom is all behind us now, Ronnie," Brad told him sincerely. "I told the cops the truth about that, you know. I wasn't assaulted by a bully. I had a friend come to me and beg for me to help him with a really bad home situation. I just handled it all wrong and got you hurt really bad, and I'm sorry, so really sorry for that."
"Dude, you saved my life, a couple of times over and you're apologizing to me?" Ronnie asked through more tears. He looked over at Chris and snorted in laughter. "You picked a real blond didn't you?"
"HEY!" Brad protested, but he too was grinning.
"Yeah, he's my blond," Chris said rather dreamily. "And I wouldn't change a thing about him if I could."
"Ok, enough talking, boys," the newly named Mrs. Sweets declared. "You are here to study and to eat chocolate chip cookies." The boys all sat down at the kitchen table and she put the pan of cookies in front of them with a big smile. "Get to work." When all three boys reached for the cookie pan, she added, "Work on the books, too."
"I'll give it a try if you insist, but I don't think it will taste near as good as the cookie," Ronnie told her with a smirk.
"Dude, if you had started out with this attitude, we'd have been friends a lot sooner," Brad told him with a laugh as his mother just walked away shaking her head and muttering about the deficient male sense of humor.
"I couldn't have this attitude if we hadn't gone through what we did," Ronnie said seriously. "I really meant what I said as they were putting me in the ambulance that day, you know. I am so sorry that I put you and all of us through this mess, but I gotta say, I never dreamed it would end so well."
"Who says this is the end?" Chris asked, wiping crumbs from his face. "I think this is the beginning instead of the end. Brad and I have each other. We both have a pretty funny friend who just happens to also be my favorite cousin. The three of us, well mostly you two, got rid of the meanest, grouchiest bunch of people in town."
"Hey, don't count yourself out so completely," Brad insisted. "If it weren't for the fact that we were basically fighting over you, none of this would have happened."
"Well, obviously that's because I am so irresistible and sexy," Chris announced with a grin.
"And full of it," Ronnie added. "Seriously though, Brad, what were we thinking?" he asked as he poked his thumb toward Chris with a laugh.
"Hey, he might be full of it, but whatever it is, I love every bit of it," Brad sighed.
"I am so not going to study with you two anymore if you keep acting like a rom-com on the Hallmark channel," Ronnie pouted.
"Jealous much?" Chris asked, and then gasped. "I'm sorry, Ronnie. I guess we were having so much fun I kind of forgot...."
"Forgot what, that you were my first crush and my first wet dream?" Ronnie asked pointedly. "Yeah, well maybe you were, back when I was a kid. I've grown up a lot since I was in the hospital. I am so over you now, little boy."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Chris asked him back. "I'm two months older you than, you know."
"Yes, but maturity counts," Ronnie sighed exaggeratedly. "Why should I waste my affections on junior high children when there is a high school guy from Greensboro coming to the next coven meeting or whatever it's called, just to meet me?"
"What?" Brad and Chris both yelped.
"That's right, children," Ronnie grinned. "I met him in the hospital. He was having his appendix removed and shared my room for a couple of nights. He thinks I'm adorable, scars and all."
"How old is this high school guy?" Brad questioned sternly. "What school does he go to? Where does he live? Who are his parents?"
"Chill, dude, Mom and Mum already met him, and gave him the family inquisition," Ronnie soothed. It took a couple of minutes for Chris to stop laughing so that he could ask who was Mom and who was Mum, but saying the word Mum set off his giggles again. Brad tried to keep a straight face but a few snickers escaped from him as well. "Hey, I will thank you two dweebs to not laugh at my parental units."
"I bet Aunt Bambi is Mom, right?" Chris begged, still giggling a little.
"Ok, yes, happy now?"
"So that means Ms. Phillips is your Mum?"
"Well, they can't both be Mom. That would get confusing."
"I think it's really nice, but I am not ever spending the night at your house again," Brad announced.
"What's wrong with my house?"
"The first time I met your mom, I was coming out of his bathroom in nothing but a towel," Brad explained pointing at Chris. "The second night my Mom and I were staying there, I had a nightmare, and.... No, I am so not telling you two this."
"Brad, I thought we wouldn't keep secrets anymore."
"Ok, fine but if either of you say a word about this ever again, even to me, I will kill you both."
"Oh, this has got to be good."
"No, I can't do this," Brad snapped and ran to his room as he wiped tears from his face.
"What just happened in here?" his mother asked the other two boys giving them the parental death glare.
"He was going to tell us about something that happened the second night you guys were staying with Aunt Bambi and Miss Switch," Chris began, confusion mixed with hurt and a bit of fear in his voice.
"Ahhh, that would do it. All right boys, just to diffuse the situation a bit so that you don't think he is hiding something dangerous from you again, I will tell you." She sat down in the chair her son had just left and took a cookie for herself but didn't bite into it yet. "Our second night there, Brad had a nightmare. He has never told me what it was about, but it was traumatic enough for him to have an accident."
"He fell down? Was he sleepwalking?"
"Not that kind of accident. If either of you laugh or ever tease him about this, you will not live long enough to regret it. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Brad woke up screaming and crying. I rushed into his room and could smell what had happened even before he realized it. I got him up and helped him to the bathroom, but he was so upset it was just like he was a toddler again. I got him cleaned up but realized that I hadn't brought anything for him to wear into the bathroom with us. Your Aunt Bambi knocked on the door, but apparently, in my hurry to get him taken care of, I hadn't latched it. The door swung open and she saw him standing naked in the tub."
"Oh man, tell me he was still out of it and didn't know?"
She shook her head sadly. "He was mortified, and I couldn't blame him and still don't. It was my fault entirely, and I feel terrible for it, but it couldn't be helped. Bambi didn't say anything. She just handed me the pajamas she had found in his room and shut the door. He wouldn't talk or look at her for two days."
"Aunt Bambi finally cornered me in the backyard and told me that she wished it hadn't happened, but that she would never say a word about it." The three people at the table turned to see a very red-faced, and tear-stained Brad walking back toward them. "She told me that it was perfectly understandable after the stress I had been under for me to have a nightmare. She didn't think I was a baby because of what had happened, and even if she had, seeing me would have corrected that idea really quick. She also told me to tell you that you are a very lucky boy, Chris." They could all tell that his face was a different kind of red at that point. "Anyway, yeah... Your mom doesn't get any more free shows, Ronnie."
"I can't even imagine what you must have dreamed that would scare you that bad," Brad mumbled.
"I... I dreamed that I didn't get to the police in time, and that Ronnie got killed, and then you dumped me because I wasn't worth all the trouble, and you told my dad about me and he... he..."
Brad was suddenly engulfed in a group hug. "None of that happened, sweetheart," his mom told him.
"You are worth everything we have been through and so much more," Chris wept on his shoulder. "You are worth more than everything and everyone on this planet, and don't you ever forget that."
"Yeah, there was no way I was going to let them break me," Ronnie said firmly. "I knew you would get help, and you did. You're my hero. Captain Juliet of the Rainbow Rangers."
"Captain who of the what?" Brad growled, and then laughed. They all laughed, together.
"All right Rainbow Rangers, back to those books," Brad's mother said with a smile.
"Yes, ma'am, Admiral Sweets," Ronnie said with a crisp salute.
"Ronnie, did the doctors tell you there was any damage to your brain? Cause you ain't right in the head, dude."
"I think I'm going to really like my favorite cousin, actually," Chris grinned, then frowned when he saw Ronnie's expression. "What's wrong, bro?"
"That's like the second time you've called me that," Ronnie whispered.
"Hey, any problems we had are in the past now, cuz," Chris responded. "Get used to it, dude. You are the official favorite cousin."
"Wait? How many cousins do you have?"
"Counting you? One."
"You know, you guys really are cousins," Brad told them as he grabbed another cookie. "I can see the family resemblance so clearly now." Ronnie and Chris eyed each other up and down with raised eyebrows since they looked nothing alike. "Yeah, you both have the same warped, twisted, sick senses of humor."
"But you love us, don't you, Juliet?"
"Not if you call me that, I don't. Get off me. MOM! I'm being hugged by weirdos."
"Well, dear, I would help, but I'm afraid I can't tell one of you three weirdos from another. I guess you're stuck with them, just like I'm stuck with all three of you. Oh, dear. I am, aren't I?"
"Yes ma'am, Admiral Sweets," three voices chimed.