Dakota sat.
“Nice, Grandpa.”
“Go do what you’re told. My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut, Henry. I’m fading away to nothing. I need my snack.”
Henry sighed. “He doesn’t bite. I’ll be back in a minute.”
From the look in Grandpa’s eyes, Dakota was in for a stern talking to. They were the worst. Henry, unfortunately, knew that from firsthand experience. When Grandpa William asked everyone to leave the room except for one unfortunate soul, the pitying looks the one left behind received weren’t even enough to represent the pain about to be inflicted.
Grandpa William knew exactly how to cut to the quick. He didn’t mince words. He didn’t play nice. He called you on your bullshit and made you be accountable for it. They’d had a lot of difficult times after his dads rescued them. It was easy to look back on it all and pretend everything had been hunky dory. But it hadn’t been. They’d had rough days. Heck, they’d had rough months. Even Ben had acted out on occasion. Their counselor had helped, but it had been a long process of healing and learning to trust their dads and their pack.
Henry hurried into the kitchen and began putting together a snack as he’d been told. He really wanted to get back upstairs and rescue Dakota. When they’d had those bad days, it was usually Grandpa William who put a stop to it. He wasn’t afraid to push harder. He wasn’t afraid to let them be angry with him. At him. But at the end of the day, they all trusted him with their deepest, darkest secrets and fears.
That trust had taken time, though. Dakota didn’t know what he was in for. After he gathered enough snack-like items to make sure Grandpa couldn’t act like he’d forgotten something and send him back downstairs, Henry ran upstairs with the tray balanced in his hands.
He wasn’t expecting quiet.
He wasn’t expecting for both Dakota and Grandpa to have small smiles on their faces.
He really wasn’t expecting Judge Judy to be playing on television and for both men to be paying rapt attention to it.
“What is happening right now?”
“Oh good. Food. Did ya get something for Dakota too? Henry, where’s your manners? Do I need to talk to your nana?”
Henry gasped. “Grandpa!”
“What? Were ya raised in a barn? I know for a fact Jean taught you basic hospitality, son.”
Dakota smirked. The ass.
“Dakota, would you like something to drink?”
“I’d love a water, thanks.”
Henry glared but ran back downstairs. By the time he made it back upstairs, Dakota had his feet propped up on the edge of Grandpa’s bed and the two were debating the merits of the case. He handed Dakota the drink and tried to figure out what vortex he’d been sucked into.
“Go talk to your Papa. That’s what you came to do.”
“But…” Henry glanced at Dakota.
“I’m fine,” Dakota said.
No one was ever fine after one of Grandpa’s chats. That wasn’t how they worked. There were tears and soul searching and…
“Are you sure?” Henry asked.
Grandpa laughed. “Get out of here. I’ll take care of Dakota.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Henry grumbled.
Dakota and his Grandpa fist bumped.
“How… when… what…”
“Get out of here. Tell your Papa I’m fine and not to fuss.”
Henry scoffed. “I’m not stupid. I’m not telling Papa anything.”
