Stuart was leaving the country with his wife, Justine, not Leland's mother. Leland's mother Lillian lives in Windenburg now. So… Stuart has asked if Leland, who is fourteen, almost fifteen, could stay with me for a while, Until he and his third wife return. I told him we'd discuss it.
That was yesterday. Now, Stuart and Leland were standing on my doorstep. Stuart had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder that he sat on the floor. Leland clutched a cardboard box labeled 'Garage - Fragile'. The boy shifted his weight, put the box down onto the side table, eyes darting past me into the cluttered townhouse. "Dad said there'd be waffles," he mumbled, not meeting my gaze.
After the waffles we sat down to discuss Stuart's request.
"Stuart, are you sure, you want to leave him with me… for how long?"
"Two years."
Both Leland and I said it at the same exact time. "TWO YEARS!!?"
"He couldn't stay with Brandon?" That was Stuart's oldest son.
Stuart shifted uncomfortably on the sofa "Brandon's… preoccupied." Translation: Brandon was knee-deep in a messy divorce with none other than Beck's younger brother, and a cryptocurrency obsession. Stuart rubbed his temples. "Look, it's two years. His mom's got that new husband and the twins in Windenburg. No room.
And Leland…" He trailed off, glancing at the boy hovering awkwardly by the fridge. Leland stared intently at a magnet shaped like a deformed pineapple, pretending he wasn't listening. "…needs stability. Somewhere quiet. Nordhaven seemed… safer."
He turned and looked at both of us. "Hello!… I can hear you, I'm right here."
"Then sit down and join us, son."
Leland slid onto the sofa next to his father, fidgeting with deformed pineapple magnet. The silence stretched, thick as the Nordhaven fog outside. Stuart cleared his throat. "Two years. It's solid. We've got contracts in Sulani—big resort build. Can't pass it up. And Leland…" He met his son's eyes. "Needs somewhere steady. Windenburg’s chaos with the twins screaming. Brandon’s couch smells like crypto despair. And yes, Ace, I trust you. Plus, Leland likes you."
"Again… I'm right here, Dad. I can speak for myself. I like you Uncle Ace, but do you like the color red or something? This place really has a lot of red."
My favorite color is red, and the entire townhouse is decorated in red. Once again, Leland gave me that sly grin.
After about another forty minutes of talking and discussing the financial end of this and getting Leland's input. I agreed. I no longer would be alone. I have a fourteen almost fifteen-year-old nephew living with me, who is almost already six feet tall, who I have nothing in common with, other than we come from the same bloodline.
Stuart goes over and kisses his son on the cheek, and then they hug. Leland seems unphased by all of this. As he goes out the door, Stuart throws his hand up…
"Thanks Ace. I will call when we land. Lee, I will call you every week."
"Yeah, okay dad…" I could tell he did not believe his father's statement.
The door clicked shut behind Stuart, leaving a vacuum of silence that pressed against my eardrums. Leland remained frozen by the sofa, clutching the deformed pineapple magnet like a shield. Outside, the fog had begun to lift, revealing patches of damp cobblestone gleaming under the weak Nordhaven sun. The distant cry of gulls sounded sharper now, almost accusatory.
