Rusty Parker Meets The Hamiltons (Patreon Exclusive, Bonus Scene) (Patreon)

Author's note: I know very well that it's a definite no-no to introduce a random point of view from a different character in a story, but I really wanted to give a bit of an inside scoop to what is going on while Maddox and Jonathan are having their little reunion. And by that, I mean how Rusty meets Jonathan's parents and the effect he has on them. You guys may know by now how much I love Rusty, so I just couldn't skip this opportunity to present him and his quirky mind. 

This scene won't be part of the final book, for the reason explained earlier, but I think it's not that big of a thing if I just deliver this bonus scene like this, and for your eyes only.

I hope you'll enjoy it! And I want to thank Dave again for all the help he's giving me with editing my texts, especially when I sent him this yesterday, and today he already sent it back to me so that I could publish it.

Rusty Parker Meets The Hamiltons

The place was freaking huge. Yeah, he had promised Maddox that he would serve as his human shield or whatever, but it was all right to be frightened, although that was something he would never admit to, not even to his best friend. While he walked behind Simmons he stared at everything, trying to take it all in so that he could remember every detail later when he intended to brag to anyone who cared to listen that he had visited an inhabited museum.

The large entrance seemed to be just the tip of the iceberg, with its polished marble floor and the huge chandelier, as the butler took him down a hall decorated with paintings that looked like they were authentic and not bought at the flea market. It was like walking in a fairytale setting, and Rusty couldn’t help reaching out to surreptitiously touch one frame.

“No,” Simmons chastised him curtly. The old butler stared at him over his shoulder, and then he grinned. “They’re a pain to polish is all.”

“Oh,” Rusty said and nodded thoughtfully as if he could understand how difficult it had to be to polish a piece of wood. Hmm, wood. Nope, he wasn’t going to let his mind wander, not at a crucial time like this, although, it was pretty hard not to get distracted with so many amazing things around. He had never been anywhere this nice, not that he was usually invited to nice places. If he closed his eyes for a moment, he could imagine that he had just stepped into the imagined setting of a beloved opera featuring rich people with too many problems.

“Allow me to announce you first,” Simmons said.

“Wait, dude,” Rusty said, catching the man by the elbow. “Don’t tell them I’m Pranker.”

“Ah, so you don’t want to go by your real name?”

“Are all butlers such a freaking riot?”

“Just me,” Simmons said with self-importance. “Very well. Let’s throw you to the lions then. Are you ready?”

“What? Lions?”

Rusty didn’t get a chance to reply as the butler opened the ornate double doors to a room on the left using both hands like they did in movies, readying them for a grand entrance. “Sir, madam,” Simmons said in a dignified tone, “you have visitors.”

Rusty hesitated for a moment, but Simmons stepped out of the way to allow him to enter, so he took one cautious step like he was about to walk on hot coals.

“Mr. Rusty Parker,” Simmons added.

The first thing Rusty noticed was how huge the room was. The windows were tall and many, allowing the daylight to enter, so there was no need for artificial sources. Toward the left end, he saw a grand piano, while at his right, an arrangement with a sofa, armchairs and a coffee table could be seen. The room was decorated in cream and off-white tones, and the light hues used made it look luminous.

That was all the time he had to examine his surroundings because two startled heads lifted to look at him, and he lost almost every bit of courage he had.

Almost, because Rusty Parker wasn’t the type to feel fear, especially when people were counting on him. “Hi,” he said with what he hoped was a smile that didn’t look too weird. “Cool digs you have here, people.”

A man in his late fifties, who had to be Jonathan’s dad, rose to his feet and frowned. He had thick furrowed eyebrows and an expression that could only be defined as the type one got at the zoo at the sight of a strange animal, the kind you didn’t know whether was safe to pet or better to stay away from.

“Simmons, who is this?” Mr. Hamilton asked while his frown deepened.

“Rusty Parker,” the butler insisted.

He was kind of insolent for a butler, Rusty thought. Yeah, probably rich people like these used words like insolent. He knew such words, too.

“And who is Rusty Parker?” Mr. Hamilton insisted.

He was right there and pretty sure he didn’t look like a corn stalk or something. He cleared his throat in an effort to draw attention to himself, but only managed to squeeze out a very weird sound that appeared to take Mrs. Hamilton aback. She had turned in her place to examine him with eyes that looked very much like Jonathan’s.

“Um,” he said, “sorry to make your acquaintance… I mean, sorry to disturb your fancy tea…”

Now two pairs of eyes were staring at him like he was some strange apparition.

“Mr. Parker is Mr. Maddox Kingsley’s companion,” Simmons said in a voice that made him sound like he was about to burst into laughter.

“Simmons,” Mr. Hamilton said in an exasperated tone, “how many times do I have to tell you to stop speaking like an extra from a period drama?”

“Well, if you don’t like it, sir, feel free to fire me.”

Mr. Hamilton waved dismissively as if that couldn’t even be imagined. Rusty had the feeling that he had walked into some inside joke. It had to be a funny one, so his grin broadened.

“Is he a person with special needs?” Mrs. Hamilton asked while she studied Rusty with compassionate eyes.

Oh, great, now that was a way to make a first impression. Maddox was going to kill him. Like in many other situations when he didn’t know what to do, he felt his fingers fidgeting. Without thinking, he walked over to the grand piano and touched the keyboard. The heaviness of the key took him by surprise, as well as the deep, rich sound that came with pressing it. Rusty pulled his hand away as if he had been burned. “Did I break it?” he asked.

“Maddox Kingsley, you said?” Mr. Hamilton ignored him and turned all his attention back to the butler. “Is he here?”

“Yes,” Simmons replied promptly.

In the meantime, Mrs. Hamilton jumped up from her armchair in quite a vigorous manner for her very conservative clothes and rushed to him. Rusty held his hands high above his head, to show that he had no intention of murdering the grand piano or anything. She gave him a strained smile, and then sat at the piano. However, Rusty could tell by her half-turned head that she was listening in on her husband’s conversation with the butler.

“Well, are you going to make me force every little word out of your mouth?” Mr. Hamilton demanded. “I’m firing you today, Simmons.”

“Oh, what joy,” Simmons commented.

Mrs. Hamilton turned her head toward Rusty and whispered in a conspiratorial manner, “They have been doing this for the last five years.”

Rusty grimaced and shrugged his shoulders, like he had no idea what to say.

“Do you like music?” Mrs. Hamilton asked him.

Rusty gave her the biggest smile he could manage. “Heck yeah. I mean, yes, ma’am.”

She patted the place by her side, as the bench was long enough to seat two people without a problem. Rusty shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but then finally relented. Mrs. Hamilton smelled really nice and rich, and he felt downright intimidated to sit by her side.

“Are you going to school with my Jonathan?” she asked, as she turned the score sheets carefully, seemingly looking for something.

“Yeah. He’s a totally cool dude. He has the best grades. But he also didn’t say ‘no’ when we had the wet t-shirt contest.” Oops, that was probably too much info.

Mrs. Hamilton turned her perfectly coiffed head to look at him. “A wet t-shirt contest,” she said slowly.

“That was a joke,” Rusty said quickly.

“Rusty… is it?”

“Yeah. Yes.”

“What kind of music do you like?” She rested her hands on the keyboard. “I’m afraid I cannot indulge you if you say some sad acronym such as EDM.”

At the other end of the room, Mr. Hamilton was still engaged in a battle of wits with his butler. “Just where is Maddox Kingsley right now?”

“He must be with Jonathan.”

“Oh, good lord, was that so hard? And why didn’t you bring him here first so that we could meet him?”

“He was in a hurry to be reunited with--”

“Simmons, you’re too much. Go make some tea. And bring a side of Jonathan and Maddox Kingsley with it. Otherwise, you are not to enter this room.”

Rusty watched with unhidden horror as his only ally walked out of the room, careful to close the double doors in the same manner he had opened them earlier. Now, he was truly thrown to the lions.

“Young man,” Mr. Hamilton turned all his attention on him, “tell us everything you know about Maddox Kingsley and his family.”

“Um, like what? His mom makes a killer pumpkin pie,” Rusty said quickly.

“George, we’re not so impatient as to treat our guests like this. Can you please see the Kincaids out? Tell them I’m a bit busy.”

Rusty moved his eyes between Mrs. and Mr. Hamilton. There was some sort of code in how they exchanged glances and words. Mrs. Hamilton held her head high and seemed pissed at her husband. “And George, make sure they don’t cross paths with our new guests.” Another pointed look followed.

Mr. Hamilton murmured something under his breath as he walked out.

Rusty looked at Jonathan’s mom. Her face was perfect, just a few wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, but really beautiful. And she looked mighty pissed. “Are you ashamed of us?” he blurted out. “I could just go sit outside.”

That earned him a surprised look from her. “Oh, you thought that… No, no, no, dear. It’s just that confrontations are bad taste. And I fear that… let’s just get back to our conversation. What music do you like?”

“Opera,” Rusty said with conviction.

This time, Mrs. Hamilton looked at him like he was pulling her leg.

“I mean it,” he said defensively and grabbed the scoresheets.

She opened her mouth for a moment but then reconsidered. “Oh, honey, you don’t have one of these?” She produced a thin smartphone from seemingly out of nowhere. “There’s this amazing service,” she continued as she browsed quickly through her phone. “Just tell me what you’d like me to play for you.”

“I’ll play for you,” Rusty said and looked over her shoulder. “That one.”

“You play the piano?” she asked, with the same confused look that said she had no idea how to take him.

“No, wrong choice of words. I’ll sing, you play.”

She pursed her lips for a moment, but for some reason she seemed inclined to indulge him. “All right, Rusty Parker. Just go stand over there.” She pointed at few feet away. “For the record, I never watch talent shows. They’re a disgrace.”

Rusty nodded and gulped. Jonathan had been impressed, and it looked like a good skill to have up his sleeve to escape this situation unscathed, but what if Mrs. Hamilton’s trained ear decided that he sucked?

Mrs. Hamilton assumed a stoic look and let her hands hover over the keys. “Ready?” she asked.

“Born ready,” Rusty confirmed.

THE END