The Rusty Old Minivan

Chapter 21

Time. The elusive concept in which life is measured. That intangible thing which you can never see, not anywhere but in the slow deterioration of life itself. That one thing which Louis waited on as his siblings grew old enough to take care of themselves, watched pass by, dragging with it the very thing he was waiting to experience; his youth.

Simultaneously, the one thing Louis never seemed to have enough of.

Today, he and Harry had two weeks left until the payment was due. Today, time felt more tangible than anything. Like the knot in Louis' stomach. Like the lump at the bottom of his throat, growing harder, moving upwards. Like holding Freddie in his arms and looking at that innocent little life and knowing he'd made him the victim of something he wasn't even old enough to comprehend.

At two o'clock, Harry came back into Chace's mum's guest bedroom for the fourth time that day after a phone-call, shaking his head. "No luck."

Luck. A concept only believed in by people who either didn't need it or wouldn't ever get to have it. Louis knew which one of them he was. "Freddie's finally gone down for his nap," Louis said softly, patting the bed beside him for Harry to come sit, "Frank just texted me back about extra weekend shifts."

Harry didn't ask whether it'd been good news or bad, but he had the answer in the tone of Louis' voice.

Instead, he sat down on the edge of the bed, watched on as Louis laid Freddie down gently in his carrycot, told the toddlers their eyes would go square if they kept watching telly on Harry's laptop all day and finally walked back to the bed, put his hands on Harry's shoulders and straddled his lap. Harry wrapped his arms around Louis' waist and nosed into the crook of his neck while Louis rested his forehead on his shoulder.

"I love you," Harry said lowly. It sounded like 'I'm sorry'.

"Love you too."

Harry pulled back a little, looking up into Louis' eyes. "Would it be ridiculous to consider Tabatha an option?"

"No."

They were installed in a guest bedroom large enough to fit a king size bed, a two-person air-mattress and two floor mattresses. It even had its own private bathroom - trying out the big marble bathtub last night had been one of the most exciting experiences in Doris and Ernest's life. Considering Chace's mum a money-option wouldn't be ridiculous in the slightest. Considering asking her to be one was.

"But Lottie would kill us," Harry said before Louis could. "And Chace would never let us hear the end of it."

"True. Then again, I suppose we should be beyond the point of worrying about that sort of thing. I mean, having Chace on our arse till Lottie bins him would be less of a problem than..." Whatever would happen if they didn't make the payment in two weeks. Louis tapped Harry's lips with the pad of his thumb, contemplating. "What I'd be mostly worried about is the matter of actually asking Tabatha. Feels wrong."

"You think she'd say no?"

"No." Louis replied, and that was exactly the issue. "I think she'd say yes. Have you seen the way she is with Chace? She couldn't say no if he asked her to house an entire trailer-park of people in here. Hell, she'd even give up her own bed if he pretty pleased."

Harry chuckled dryly. "You're probably right. Poor woman." The crook of his mouth quirked upward in a secret sort of smile. "Bet you she's relieved that we're here. Saves her from having to be all alone with that ungrateful little twit."

"Hey," Louis said, "without that ungrateful little twit we'd all be clattering teeth in some alley right now."

Harry didn't say anything to that, maybe because it was true and that felt a little too sad to dwell on.