“On his way out, actually.”
I interject cheerfully, cutting off whatever my mother was going to say.
“Got a party to crash and a plane to catch.”
“Oh, don’t listen to him-
“You were invited to the Dragon’s gala?” Curiosity sparks in his eyes, “On what business?”
“Mostly pleasure, but you never know how the night is going to end.”
It’s a cheeky response, and based on Cruella’s glare, the Colonel isn’t a man who enjoys easy banter.
“Christopher was just leaving, weren’t you darling?” Her lips pinch together in an unflattering expression, “Lots of business to attend to.”
“Yeah, that’s right. Guess I wanted to say goodbye.”
An awkward silence descends upon the group.
“Well, goodbye.” Clearing her throat, Cruella returns her attention to her beloved, “As I was saying, if we take a trip to the tearoom you’ll be able to see…”
I listen to her fill the void of the room with nothing but air. Useless, meaningless air that has me opening my mouth one last time.
“Oh, and mum?”
She totters, balancing on stilettos that must pinch her toes something awful.
“I’ve found a home now.”
Words that don’t mean much to the woman I’m saying them to, but it sure feels fucking good to get them off my chest.
“Friends, family… people who love me.” I falter, wondering why the truth hurts just as much as it comforts, “I’ve made a home for myself. Found a place I can call my own.”
Dark eyes, identical to mine, don’t so much as blink. They just stare, bore into my soul as Cruella looks at the son she never wanted to find.
And after all this time, I've realized that maybe it was best I was never found.
“I’m happy for you, Christopher.” Her mouth shifts into a smile laced with sorrow, “Really.”
It’s not the reunion I was hoping for but it’s something else.
An acknowledgment, a piece of the past I can finally put to rest.
“It was nice meeting you, Colonel…”
“Rourke.” The wrinkles around his eyes crinkle momentarily, “Colonel Rourke Hellman.”
“Right.” I give him a nod, “Best of luck with this one. She’s got an affinity for animals, you know.”
“Oh, hush.” Flapping her hands, she’s quick to wave off my comment, “Those pups are safe and sound in a warehouse somewhere.”
“Pups?”
“Nothing, my love. Just a pet project of mine.” Offering her husband a blinding smile, Cruella turns to me with a sniff, “Don’t tell me you’re attending a gala in that attire, Christopher.”
“Nah, I’ve got a penguin suit in the trunk.”
“In the trunk? Good God, child. Did you remember to pack an iron as well?”
