Armand Fifteen: Pleasant Surprise

"One grande caramel macchiato with whipped cream, please."

I heard an all too familiar voice order a coffee behind me as I was cleaning out the tamper on the espresso machine, and I felt a smile spread across my face before I even turned around.

"Grandpa Max! I'll get that right out to you."

"Haha! Hi, Armand! Surprise! I hope you don't mind, your dad told me you got a job at the coffee shop in Keith's Komics."

"I don't mind at all. I'm happy to see you. I don't get off until 3pm, though, so I won't be able to talk for a while. That'll be $4.50."

"That's okay, I have the day off, we can meet after you're done."

"Yeah, sure, I'll text you my address and then you can either stay here or go to the house."

"That sounds great, maybe I'll hang out here for a little bit, read some comic books, then I'll see you at your place."

"Perfect."

I told Grandpa Max where my spare key was so he could get into the house, since Remy was at work too, so no one would be home. He thanked me and went off to a couch with his coffee. The day after Remy gave me the pep talk about getting a job, I applied here, at Keith's Komics, and since I had been a regular customer the whole time I was in college, the manager didn't hesitate to give me a barista position. Desiree had called me, too, saying she had gone to court because of family drama, but that she couldn't discuss it until the case was over. I completely understood and wanted to respect the court system as well as Desiree. With her already being in court, the last thing she probably needed was to jeopardize whatever case she was involved in. Seeing Grandpa Max show up to get a coffee was such a pleasant surprise. Ever since that Thanksgiving when I went to see my family, things had significantly improved in my mind. I now knew that my family really did love me, and would have my back should I ever need anything.

When Grandpa Max told me that he got information about me from my dad, I had no problem with it because I adored the fact that both of them were able to keep in touch with each other so well despite being a movie star, and a famous magician. Some would think people of that caliber never saw their families, but it was not true for my family. I wondered what Grandpa Max was doing in Louisiana, but I shrugged it off because whatever the reason, he had made a point to make time for me, and I really appreciated that. Time went by pretty fast, and before I knew it, I was done with my shift. I looked around the comic book store to see if Grandpa Max was still here, and from what I could tell, he wasn't, but I thought I would text him anyway in case I missed him. He told me he was at my house, so I headed back in that direction.

When I got back to my house, I saw a blue car in the driveway I didn't recognize, but I guessed that it was probably Grandpa Max's rental car. I was right because when I opened the front door, I heard the television going, and then I saw Grandpa Max come to the foyer from the living room to give me a hug. I hadn't seen him since the holidays, and hugging him made me feel loved and warm inside.

"You have a great house, Armand."

"Thank you. I really like it. What are you doing in town?"

"Why, seeing you of course."

I laughed, and so did Grandpa Max, as he made his joke. We both knew something had brought him to Louisiana other than me. Suddenly I felt someone massage my shoulders, and then another familiar voice whispered near me.

"Hi, Armand."

"Grandma Soleil!"

I think I knew in my head that Grandma Soleil would most likely also be in town, since her and my grandfather had been inseparable ever since the beginning of time, so long as their schedules matched up, of course.

"I'm in town for my new movie, and tomorrow night is the New Orleans premiere, so your grandmother and I thought we'd come visit you too. I also, have tickets for you and your roommate if you'd like to come."

"Wow really? I'd love that! Thank you!"

"No problem, and you're welcome."

I invited my grandparents further into my house, and we sat down in the living room. My favorite part of my family had always been my grandparents. I remember the times I spent with them being filled with smiles, jokes, and laughter. It wasn't like they never fought, but when they had disagreements, they always seemed to still be able to communicate through their emotions. It was a skill I hadn't yet mastered, but hoped to do one day. When I witnessed my mom and dad fight, it was always large explosions of emotions with zero communication. I was glad that I had seen two different couples have different kinds of fights because it gave me hope that maybe I wouldn't have to turn into my parents if I ever found a girl to call my own. Initially, when I had come to college, I felt like I was completely against marriage, and couplehood, if that was even a word... but after knowing Remy and Desiree for a while, and seeing that there were good people in the world, I was being a little more open to the idea of a potential relationship. I had stopped sleeping around for the most part, as I no longer went to large parties anymore like I did in college. I would always have fond memories of parties because I did have fun almost every time, but maybe I had grown out of that type of party.

I was excited to go to this premiere, which was a kind of party in itself, and I smiled again at the thought. Grandma Soleil had taken a seat on the couch next to Grandpa Max, just as I had expected her to do. They were still so in love, and I admired them so much for that.

"So, Armand, how's your artwork going? Or are you leaning more towards singing?"

I guessed by Grandpa Max's questions that he was asking about where I was going career wise, since he probably knew I wasn't planning on being a barista for the rest of my life. I knew that he wasn't judging me though, because he was the least judgmental person I knew.

"I tried selling some of my artwork to local coffee shops, and some of them offered to put it on display, but it hasn't really paid out as much as I'd hoped. It's a little discouraging, honestly, like is my art just not good enough for public view? I really do want someday to have my pieces in an art gallery, but that just seems so far out of my reach right now. As far as singing, I haven't really pursued that, but maybe I should make a demo tape or something. I haven't really thought about it, either. I've been feeling a little stuck I think, and a little jealous of Remy because he always knew what he wanted to do with his life. I've always just been lost somewhat."

"Armand, you know that you are the way you are because of things that have happened to you, and not because there's anything wrong with you, right? The fact that you're so open and honest about how you feel is a quality that not a lot of people have. You are someone to be admired as well, okay?"

"Yeah, I know I am not the problem, but sometimes I still feel like I'm living with the ghost of my mom when I get discouraged. I keep telling myself art is subjective, and people are harsh critics, but I would be lying if I said Mom's voice doesn't still haunt me. I know I'm worth it now, but I don't feel like I'm to the point where I have enough confidence to feel like anyone would admire me."

"Well, then I'll just keep telling you that, until you believe it."

It wasn't hard for me to understand why Grandma Soleil loved Grandpa Max so much, he was so loving to everyone that he cared about. Even me, who he only saw every now and then. The simple fact that I was his grandson meant that I was privy to his unconditional love as well, which brought tears to my eyes. Grandpa Max came over to where I was sitting and put his hand on my back to comfort me.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Grandpa Max, this is supposed to be a happy occasion."

"No, don't apologize for crying. Never. You always let your emotions out when they come, okay?"

I whimpered a muffled 'yes,' and Grandpa Max pulled me into a hug. I wished I wasn't so emotional every time someone did something nice for me, but I felt like his words made sense. Most of the reasons I was sad for my dad when I was growing up were because he was never allowed to cry or show that he was sad. Mom always forced him to pretend he was happy, which never got him anywhere but deeper into his despair. I realized there might have been another layer to my dad's unhappiness because I knew without a doubt that Grandpa Max didn't raise my dad to fake his emotions, so my dad must have been even worse off since he'd known the freedom of doing that his whole life, but then my mom goes and takes it away from him. I clenched my fist and felt like screaming, which made me cry even harder.

"Shh, Armand, it's okay. Everything's okay."

"I'm sorry, I just thought of Dad and how miserable he was, and how I couldn't do anything for him. I hate Mom so much, for taking Dad's freedom away, and I wish she would just get the fuck out of my head! It feels like she's taking my freedom away from beyond the grave! I can't just deal with this art shit like a normal human, I have to fucking keep self-doubting my own skills, and it's all because of her! AAAAHHH!"

Despite my explosion, Grandpa Max and Grandma Soleil never once told me to shut up or calm down, and eventually I calmed down on my own and managed to look up at Grandpa Max who hadn't flinched at all despite me being so loud near his face. He smiled at me, and I sat up.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, thank you for letting me vent. I think I'm going to go wash my face now. What do you and Grandma have planned for the rest of the day?"

"Nothing. I planned to just hang out with you today. I do have an idea though, so when you are done washing your face, put on some athletic clothes, and come back down here, okay?"

I nodded at Grandpa Max, grateful that he was here for me. As I headed upstairs, I had to smile because I saw Grandpa Max pull Grandma Soleil onto his lap and snuggle her. I loved their relationship so much. I washed my face, really needing the splash of cold water on my skin after that outburst I'd had. I realized that my sorrowful rage hadn't been caused by frustration with my artwork, but by the revelation of my dad having the freedom he grew up with so cruelly ripped away from him by my mother. My extreme hatred for my mother was the driving force for me knowing that I would never, ever, treat anyone the way she treated my dad. That might be the one good thing she did for me.

Once I was done cleaning up, I put on some athletic clothes, like Grandpa Max had requested, and went downstairs. When I got to the half level in between my bedroom floor and the living room, I noticed something new in my house. There was a training dummy by the railing, and two concrete blocks standing on edge. Grandpa Max came over, and smiled at me.

"Did you bring these for me?"

"Yes, you bet I did. My dad, your great-grandpa Alex, gave me these when he taught me martial arts, and I was going to pass them down to you. Your dad was more interested in magic, so I never did much of this with him. I noticed you get emotional often, so I thought you might benefit from a training dummy you can punch the shit out of when you're mad."

"Wow, thank you so much!"

"I'll teach you some stuff, of course, some tonight, and maybe a little tomorrow morning if you'd like. Tomorrow afternoon I was going to go and spend some time with your grandma before my movie premiere."

"I'd love that, thank you, Grandpa Max." 

"Okay, lesson starts now."

---

Sitting in court was so nerve-wracking. My brother's testimony had gone flawlessly, but my mother's on the other hand, was a little shaky. The lawyers were going to give their closing arguments today, and the jury would hopefully get a verdict out. I didn't think my dad would look innocent in the eyes of any decent human, but I also knew that shit happens sometimes, no matter how much evidence is presented. I wished my dad would get put in jail at least for a few years, so I could get away from his ridiculous tyrannical ways. I knew if he wasn't constantly hovering over me, it would give me time to gather the courage to get my shit together like a proper adult. Finally, the judge was ready.

"Mr. Haskle and Ms. Cazelton, you will each be allowed to give your closing arguments. Ms. Cazelton, you can have the floor first."

"Ladies and gentlemen, you have heard my client's case of how she was brutally assaulted by her own father, just for wanting to leave the house. She is a legal adult, and the law has no bearing on her freedom to go wherever she wants. Her father had no right to stop her in the first place, and absolutely no right to stop her in the manner that he did. Whether or not you believe her father assaulted her that night, please just take into consideration that my client deserves the freedom to live her life without her father's overbearing hand controlling her every move. Thank you."

"Thank you, Ms. Cazelton. Mr. Haskle, you may take the floor now."

"Ladies and gentlemen, my client is a well-respected Catholic priest who has been serving this community for ten years at the town church. Before that he was the headmaster of the Catholic school that many of your friends and neighbors may have sent their children to. The testimonies you have heard may lead you to believe that my client was unreasonable in the way he raised his family, but sometimes not everything is black and white, or understood the same way among everyone. Please don't punish my client for trying to raise his family the way that he thought he should. Thank you."

"Thank you, Mr. Haskle. Jury will deliberate, and then court will resume."

My hands were clammy after the judge let everyone take a break while the jury discussed the case. I hoped once again that they would see the clear path to the correct answer. I felt like my case was one of those ones where it was obvious who was the perpetrator and who was the victim. I wished Armand was here, and I pictured his gorgeous blue eyes, the curve of his nose, and his pouty bottom lip, to try to get me through the next however long I had to be here today. Part of me hated that I was having feelings for Armand because I didn't think he saw me in that way at all, but part of me was a little hopeful that maybe he would realize something he hadn't since we hadn't seen each other in person for so long. We had been talking on the phone and texting each other ever since I finally broke the ice a week ago and returned his many messages. I thought back to when he and I first met, and how much of an absolute gentleman he was. Boys don't act like that unless they at least think the girl is attractive somewhat, right? Man, I am really insecure about my own looks. I shuddered when my thoughts led me to Reese again and how awful she had made me feel that day she poured coffee on my homework after pushing me. My mother... I couldn't help but wonder if she really murdered Reese from afar? My parents are both so messed up, my dad with his physical and emotional abusiveness, and my mother potentially being a murderer. Wow, I am thinking crazy. Knock it off, Desiree. Thankfully, just then, the judge came back.

"The jury has reached a verdict."

"On the count of aggravated assault, we the jury, find the defendant, guilty. On the count of reckless endangerment, we find the defendant, guilty. On the count of child abuse, we find the defendant, guilty. On the count of spousal abuse, we find the defendant, not guilty."

"Will the defendant please rise. Father Dale Butchet, you have been found guilty on three out of the four charges against you. I hereby sentence you to twenty-five years in prison, with no chance for parole. I seriously hope that you take that time to think about the job you chose and why it does not line up with your behavior. This case is closed. Bailiff, please escort Father Butchet to his new residence."

I was smiling so much as my father got taken away by the bailiff. He was no doubt unhappy about the verdict, judging by the scowl on his face, but I was so very happy. My prison warden had himself been thrown into prison, and justice had been served.