When the Rain Falls

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{for Kia for creating Bash and being positively lovely and super, super talented}

12.

The couch is already empty when Aiden awakes. He's slightly shocked that Delia was able to get up so early. Granted, Aiden didn't pull himself out of bed until eleven—he sleeps in on days he doesn't work—so it wasn't that early, but nonetheless, he is surprised. And slightly impressed. Slightly.

            Perhaps the most surprising thing, though, is that his aunt and uncle are awake as well. And relatively sober. He eyes them curiously as he takes eggs out of the fridge. His aunt and uncle are sitting on the couch in the adjoined living room, the news blaring loudly on the TV. He says nothing to them, waiting for them to make the first move. They're silent.

            He cracks three eggs into a bowl then pours it into a pan, mixing in diced onions and peppers. Additionally, he throws in pieces of ham and shredded cheddar cheese. On days he doesn't work, Aiden tends to prepare lavish breakfasts. Though some may consider an omelet simple, it's a rarity and a joy for him. As a bonus, he quite enjoys cooking. He's no chef, but he can make basic dishes. Mac and Cheese is his specialty.

            It's not until he's seated at the table, his omelet half eaten and a nearly empty glass of orange juice set beside his plate, that his relatives acknowledge his presence.

            "Aiden," his uncle starts gruffly. Aiden places his fork on his plate, an uneaten segment of egg and cheese on the end of the prongs.

            He wipes his mouth with a napkin, taking his time before responding. "Yes?"

            "Another check arrived."

            Aiden's fists clench, but his heart rate accelerates. His mind understands where the checks are coming from, but his heart beats to the sound of money. "Right. Good, then."

            He's ready to return to his breakfast, end the conversation here. He'll cash the check later and pretend it's not wrong. For now, he'd like to ignore the elephant in the room and eat peacefully. But then his aunt says something that makes his stomach drop.

            "We'd like half, this time." Maybe if she'd had the decency to at least look at Aiden when she said it, he wouldn't be so angry right now. But he is positively seething and he's seeing red, red, red. Everywhere.

            Roughly, he propels his chair backwards, breathing heavily as he rises from it. At the sound of the wood chair hitting the side of the counter, their heads turn. Good.

            He looks his uncle directly in the eyes when he gives them an answer. "No."

            It's almost comical, the way their eyes bulge out of their heads and their jaws hit the floor. His aunt's mouth open closes wordlessly, like a fish.

            Finally, she mutters incredulously, "No?"

            Aiden is standing tall and proud, firm about his decision. "That's what I said."

            His uncle's rising, too, now. "You can't tell us no." His face is purple with fury.

            Aiden's anger is less visible, aside from the clenched fists and tight smile. "It's my money, I can. And I have."

            He's rounded the couch now, stepping furiously toward his nephew. Aiden refuses to back down, though he feels the fear in the way his stomach churns and his feet itch to scram. His eyes are dark, dangerous. Aiden knows not to trust his uncle like this, it's a blind rage, fueled by alcohol, that Aiden is completely defenseless against. But he won't back down—not this time.