Trish began seeing Michael Tavert six months after the death of his wife. When it happened, Trisha became something of celebrity. People she'd been friends with for a long time stopped talking to her. She had to close down her yoga studio because people stopped coming. She couldn't so much as go into a bank without being stared at or talked about. Elliot liked to say she was like Hester Prynne, only instead a scarlet letter S, she'd been branded with a T.
From the beginning, Trisha didn't get along with Michael's sons. They couldn't understand how their father could move on so quickly and they blamed her for it. Of the three Tavert boys, Elliot was the most tolerant of her. It was obvious he didn't agree with her choices, but at least he didn't blatantly ignore her the way Dylan did.
Sam, on the other hand, hated her. Unlike his brothers, he made no attempt to stay out of her way or to pacify her whenever she came over. Trisha's visits would often end in screaming matches that would have made the neighbors call the police if their father wasn't a police officer himself.
It was for this reason that Michael Tavert decided to take everyone out to dinner to make his announcement.
Sam, Elliot and Dylan were already suspicious when their father told them they were going out for dinner. He was notoriously stingy and he hated spending money he didn't have to. They were even more on edge when he told them they were going to Albertini's, an expensive new Italian restaurant downtown.
"This is nice," Trisha said as they all sat down.
"You like it?" Michael said. "A co-worker recommended it."
"He's putting us up for adoption," Dylan whispered to Elliot and Sam. "I just know it."
"He's not putting us up for adoption," Elliot said. "He probably just has something to tell us."
"Then why didn't he tell us at home?" Dylan asked.
Elliot looked at Sam.
"Oh, come on. You can't blame every forced outing we have on me," Sam said.
The arrival of their drinks saved Elliot from having to answer.
They're halfway through their dinner when Michael Tavert reveals the real reason he took them out to eat.
"Boys, I know this last year has been rough on you. It's been rough on all of us."
In Sam's opinion, rough didn't cut it, but he held his tongue as his father continued speaking.
"And there comes a point where you just have to move on. And you guys have met Trisha. She loves you."
Sam's eyes narrow. "Is she pregnant?" he blurted out.
"Did you ask her to marry you?" Dylan asked.
Trisha and Michael frowned at each other. This conversation wasn't going to the way either of them wanted. "No. No. Guys, we're thinking about moving in together," Michael Tavert said. "And we were wondering what you thought about that idea."
"What do you expect us to think?" Sam said.
"Sam, don't," Elliot said.
"No, it's fine," Trisha said. "Sam's a part of this family and he gets a say too."
"That's funny," Sam said. He turned to Elliot. "Dylan, did you know I'm apparently a part of this family too? Elliot?"
Elliot had his face in his hands. "Don't do this, Sam."
"Because dad never thought to ask any of us if he should start dating again or if his adult sleepovers were okay or if it was cool to pack up moms stuff and exile it to the garage. Now, you want our opinion? I'm a little confused."
Sam's voice had risen while he was speaking and several people in the restaurant looked up. "Sam, I know you don't agree with all of my decisions," his dad said. "But there's a time and a place to talk about all of that."
"Well, I think as long as she makes you happy then I don't see what the problem is," Elliot said. "Besides, it'll be nice to have a woman's touch around the house. I'm sure Trisha has her own furniture, things that can be used to replace some of our old stuff."
Sam had been fully expecting his brothers to be on his side about this, and now he stared at Elliot in disbelief.
"Where is she going to put all of her stuff?" Dylan asked.
Michael looked confused. "In the house?" he said. "Where else would she put it?"
Dylan stumbled over his words. "It's just....I don't think.... mom wouldn't want the furniture moved or for us to get rid of her old things," Dylan said. "She liked the house the way it was. She liked the curtains in the living room. And we picked out the carpet together. What if she looks down at us and sees that things have changed and she starts to hate us."
"That won't happen," Trisha said.
"Yeah, and mom would want us to be happy," Michael added.
"What do you know about what mom would want?" Sam said.
"Now is not the time," his father snapped.
"If not now, then when?" Sam was on his feet.
Elliot groaned. "Sit down, Sam," his dad ordered.
"No. Fuck you," Sam said. "Fuck her and this restaurant. And you too Elliot. Mom wouldn't have wanted this and you guys know it." Sam blew out of the restaurant, knocking down the waiter carrying their desserts in his haste to get out.
Sam couldn't understand how everyone could all be so nonchalant about another woman taking his mother's place. She would have hated Trisha, and she would have hated what she and dad were trying to do.
That was really the problem, thought Sam as he walked. He didn't know what Trisha and dad were trying to do. He felt like he was being dragged along with a plan he had no knowledge of.
Sam didn't notice the yellow hummer driving up fast behind him until it was right upon him. "Child killer," someone shouted, a Sam jump backed as a beer bottle hit the sidewalk next to him.
"Assholes," Sam yelled. He picked up the broken neck of the beer bottle and threw it at the back of the car.
The glass bounced uselessly off one of the tires, but it was enough to get the car to stop.
Six boys filed out of the car. Sam didn't run as they surrounded him. Sam recognized all of them from his school, but he didn't know their names. "Think that's funny?" The largest one said.
"I think a lot of things are funny," Sam said. "Your face among them."
The guy laughed, and then he grabbed by the shirt and shoved him backwards. "I'll show you something funny."
He drew back his fist. At the same time, a car stopped behind them and Elliot got out. "You guys have five seconds to clear out," he said.
One of the guys laughed. "Or what?"
"Yeah, or what?" echoed another guy.
Elliot held up his phone. "Or I call the police and have you reported for assault and illegal parking." A flash went off as he took a picture of them.
The boy shoved Sam to the ground. "Fine," he said. "But this isn't over."
Elliot went to help Sam up, but Sam pushed away his hand.
"I just saved your ass," Elliot said. "You could be a little more grateful."
Sam was angry. Angry at his dad. Angry at the guys who'd just tried to beat him up. Angry at himself. And right then, he needed someone to be angry at.
"Grateful?" Sam said. "What the hell do I have to be grateful for? Our fucked up family? Our fucked up mom?
"Don't talk about mom like that," Elliot said.
"You see," Sam said. "That's the problem. Nobody wants to talk about mom. She was fucked up long before she hit those kids. And we're sitting around here pretending like we give a shit what happens to her stuff."
The more Sam spoke, the angrier he got. But once he'd started he found that he couldn't stop. "You wanna know the real reason I don't want Trisha to move in?"
Elliot's eyes were watery and it was obvious he was holding back tears. "Why?"
"Because this family fucks up everything it touches," Sam said. "And she'll be next. Just you watch."
Elliot opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but he seemed to be struggling with his words. "Sam..."
"Just leave me alone," Sam said. He began walking home, ignoring Elliot's calls for him to come back.