Tiny Tim

With this, it was official. Mom would not get the house. The house would go on the market instead. I just hoped it wouldn’t be sold before John and I could make our move. Maybe I could persuade Mom to help with that timeframe, without letting her know what was happening in the background and ruining the surprise.

When the judge’s gavel hit the table, Mom and Aaron were both looking at me. Or, better yet, Mom was looking, Aaron was glaring.

Mom’s look communicated mostly relief, but also a little sadness. Probably about the finality of the divorce and the loss of the house. Meanwhile, Aaron’s glare let me instantly know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that he would never be my Dad again. The slap the judge had handed out to him during his decree was the final nail in that coffin, after he had already blamed me for causing this whole mess in the first place. Now he must’ve been feeling like my continuous meddling had interfered with his plans.

Strangely enough, though, I didn’t feel much more than mild disappointment about the prospect of no longer having any hope for reconciliation with my father. I guess I had already come to terms with this possibility long ago.

Naturally, there was no celebration. The family did come together in John’s house, though. There was an excessive amount of alcohol consumed while I tried to stay away from Grandpa, as to not provoke any unnecessary arguments. A task that turned out to be tricky, however, as he was very eager to lighten Mom’s mood, while Mom would still insist on me being an integral part of every family event. Even this one.

I managed to slip into the kitchen with John for a few minutes, so we could converse about the progress of the money laundering. We decided on him talking with Mom as soon as the opportunity arose, to make sure she wouldn’t agree to any offer without consulting him first. Then John surprised me by suddenly wrapping me in a manly bearhug, holding it for several seconds.

“Thank you for taking care of my sister, Tim.” he whispered after finally letting go of me, though he placed a hand on my shoulder instead. “Don’t let Dad’s crap get to you. Everyone else can see that you ARE caring for this family. I don’t think I could’ve achieved half of what you did if I were in your shoes. In time, he will see that too.”

With that, he squeezed my shoulder, handed me a beer, and left the kitchen just in time for Mom, Ava, and Danny to enter instead. However, once they had noticed me, their conversation stopped. I felt like they were somehow appraising me. Mom then stood to my left, while Ava hip checked me after walking over to my right...

“And how are you, little Brother?” Ava inquired with a compassionate look.

“What?” I asked, unable to hide my confusion. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

I thought I could see a shadow of disapproval cross Danny’s face.

“Because we all saw the look your father gave you after the judge finished talking.” Mom explained while wrapping an arm around my waist, like she did so often now. “And we’re a little worried about you.”

Despite everything, that made me smile and return the gesture. I pulled her closer to me before answering her.

“Look, Danny warned me about my habit of claiming to be alright despite not actually being alright. But I’m not lying this time. I don’t know...” I paused to try and find the right words. “I guess it would’ve been nice if, in the end, everyone was happy, but ... I made my peace with this outcome a while ago. It would’ve taken a miracle by now to make him change his view. So, this time, you really don’t have to worry.”

All three of them seemed to contemplate whether they could believe me, but ultimately accepted my answer with a nod.

“Now the more pressing issue is the question if you are okay.” I continued, poking Mom with my index finger which caused her to giggle.

“Yes, Darling, I’m okay.” she assured me. “I admit, it’s a little sad. You said it yourself once, we had been married for more than two decades. I spend more than half my life with that man by my side. But I’d rather lose him than my children. Actually ... I’d even go so far and say that the loss of the house hurts more.”

That was unexpected. I had seen Ava and Mom mourn the house sale, but I didn’t really understand their reasons.

“Why?” I decided to simply ask, and it was Ava who spoke up first.

“Tim ... I know that you’re not going to fondly remember the last few years you spent in our home. But...” she hesitated. “Please don’t misunderstand. It’s just, for me, for fifteen of the eighteen years I’ve been alive, I do have fond memories of that place.”

“And it’s the home I raised my Babies in.” Mom added while nodding in approval about her daughter’s thoughts.