the Secret Life of Damien Carmichael

22. Greatest Gifts (part I)

"That was utterly humiliating!" Damien's mother snapped at breakfast. "I mean, the absolute nerve."

"I'm sorry mother," Damien said, staring down at his plate full of eggs.

"Sorry Mrs. Carmichael," Oliver added, barely above a whisper.

Mrs. Carmichael looked at the two of them, Damien felt as though he might die on the spot. "I didn't mean you boys," she said, carefully. "Its that... that Tyler," she spat, a disgusted look on her face. "Oh darling," she looked directly at Oliver as she spoke now. "A server overheard what he said to you." At this Oliver blushed crimson. "I want you to know, that we adore you exactly as you are. You are family, for as long as you and Damien are together." This time it was Damien's turn to blush. Whatever he had expected, his parent's understanding and acceptance so easily had never quite been it. But he couldn't be mad about it, if anything he was thrilled. 

"Thank you, Mrs. Carmichael," Oliver said, nervously eating his eggs.

"Please darling, call me Cynthia."

Oliver nodded, "Well, thank you, Cynthia," he corrected himself, though it was clear he wasn't entirely comfortable with it. 

"Now then, as you boys know, Christmas is on Wednesday. Your father and I have already purchased the necessary gifts, however, Oliver, I understand your birthday is also coming up. The following Tuesday?"

Oliver swallowed, looking up, "How did you..."

"Oh darling, it's all public information, nothing too nefarious, I promise," she said with a smile. "We weren't able to do anything for Damie this year either, and I was hoping perhaps we could hold a joint party for the two of you."

"You really don't have to do that," Oliver said.

"Nonsense, you should have a celebration. Now, I was thinking somewhere in the Caribbean, somewhere very warm and tropical, but then, Mr. Carmichael discovered an Uncle of yours living in Switzerland."

Oliver blinked, "Pardon?"

Damien stared between his mother and Oliver, suddenly feeling very uneasy. "Apparently your father had an older brother that stayed behind after the family came to America," Mrs. Carmichael said. "He ended up moving to Switzerland a few years ago."

Oliver shook his head, "No, no my father would have told me if we still had family. There must be some sort of... mistake."

Mrs. Carmichael frowned, "We just got the letter from the private investigator this morning," she said. "That's why I called you both down here."

Damien stared at Oliver, he looked pale, and more than a little shakey. "Oliver?" he asked, worried he might faint at any moment. Oliver shot to his feet and before Damien could say another word, he ran out of the dining room. Damien ran after him, worried something might happen, as Oliver sprinted through the house, making his way towards the front door, he had made it all the way to the middle of the drive where the large fountain stood, frozen, and all but collapsed onto it. Damien stood, several feet from his boyfriend who looked simultaneously as though he might throw up at any moment, or cry, or scream.

"Are you alright?" Damien whispered.

"This whole time... I thought... I was completely alone," Oliver said. "My parents said we had no family left. No grandparents, no aunts or uncles, it was just the three of us. And then..." he sighed, clearly trying to catch his breath. "When they..." Damien merely nodded, taking a seat beside him, grabbing Oliver's hand in his own. "It was just me," Damien squeezed his hand, wrapping his arm around Oliver's shoulders. He was trembling, though whether from the cold or the circumstances, Damien couldn't say. "And now..." he shook his head. "I have an uncle. Does that mean I have to move to Switzerland? Am I supposed to live with my uncle now? I don't want to leave Westlake, or you," he said.

"Let's take it one step at a time," Damien replied. "You're going to be eighteen in a week, after that, no one can tell you who to live with."

Oliver eyed him, "I'm going to be nineteen," he said with a sigh. "I had to take a year off school so I could help my dad in his body shop, I turned eighteen last year. I had to lie when I applied to Westlake, and luckily they didn't seem too interested in trying to figure out my past, because nobody questioned anything."

"Oh," Damien said. "I wonder why that didn't show up in the private investigators report."

"I'm sure it did. But your mother was too polite to mention it," Oliver said with a sigh.

"I'm quite proud of you," Damien said. Oliver looked over at him, at that. "I mean it. You helped your parents when they needed it, but you never gave up going to school. You're here, trying to get the best grades you can so you can do better for yourself. I think that's what they would have wanted."

Oliver sighed, "My parents gave up everything to give me a better life," he said.

Damien nodded, holding him tight.

"The night they died, I remember hearing my parents argue about money, they weren't making as much as they had been with the garage. I tried to go to sleep, to ignore their arguing, just wishing they would stop. Wishing they would shut up, and stop arguing so I could just go to sleep. And then the next thing I remembered... there was smoke everywhere. We were living above the garage, and one of the cars my father had been working on just... blew up right in his face." Damien gasped. "My mother and I were trapped upstairs, so she broke through a window, and made me climb down the tree that was right by my bedroom window. She tried to follow me, but the fire... ate away at the wood floors, and she fell right through into the living room," Oliver sobbed. Damien's eyes widened. "Just like that... they were gone," he said quietly.

"Oh Oli."

"I had no idea what to do or where to go, I ended up running to one of my father's coworkers who lived not too far from us and crashed on his couch for a while. A month later, I got a call from some lawyer that said my parent's business had an insurance plan that put all the proceeds from their death into a fund that would go directly to Westlake Prep where I was to attend for my Senior year."

"Oh my god, Oli, I had no idea."

"I didn't want anyone to know," he said quietly, sniffing hard, as he looked out past the drive and into the snow-covered street. "My parent's last dying wish was for me to attend Westlake, to get good enough grades that I could go to college and make something more of myself."

"And you will," Damien promised.

"What would I even do in college? I don't even know what I want for my life. I'm going to be twenty next year, and I haven't the faintest idea of what I should be doing or even who the hell I am."

Damien sighed, rubbing small soothing circles into his back. "Maybe we can find out together?" he asked.

Oliver sighed, laying his head on Damien's shoulder. "I can't believe I have an uncle," he said quietly.

Damien couldn't help but chuckle, "You've lead a very interesting life, Mr. Martin," he said, kissing his forehead.

"Something tells me with you by my side it's only going to get even more interesting."

"You have no idea," Damien replied. "Now come on, let's get back inside and finish breakfast huh? I'm starved." Oliver nodded, getting to his feet, and the two made their way back inside.