“The fuck’s wrong now?” I asked into the room, earning me uncomfortable looks from all sides. Except from my back, where Claire was still standing. Her hold on my waist increased in strength, as she rubbed her face on my naked back. Her behavior was starting to get me seriously unnerved.
“Uh ... Claire ... your daughter seems to be distressed somehow. Don’t you think you should go look if she needs anything?”
I had hoped to get her off my back with this. Literally. But instead she surprised me.
“I know why she’s crying. I’ll talk to her about it. But right now, I need to hold my Baby.” she countered, sounding like she was close to tears again, before adding in a whisper “I almost lost you again!”
“Wow. All it took to finally get a hug out of my mother was me almost dying twice, huh?” I commented.
Yeah, I was an asshole to most of them for the past fifteen minutes, but that was only after they tried to sell me their bullshit lines I simply wouldn’t buy. Claire had only shown affection, which was not as bad as I would like to claim. So, I really had not intended to be mean or to hurt her. It just ... slipped out. I was tired, exhausted, hurting, confused, angry with the others, and just wanted some damn pancakes before I crawl into bed and sleep through the next two days.
I know it sounds like I’m just making excuses, but I really wasn’t. I had fully expected them to say whatever, just to make themselves look less like the shit family they had been for so long. And most of them played right into that expectation. But I wasn’t prepared to suddenly be confronted with a twilight zone version of my mother that actually gave a shit about me! Someone should have warned me!
“You might not believe it, Tim. But the last few days weren’t easy for us either. Please, just let her hold you for a while. Please! She needs this right now.” Danielle said in a forlorn voice, before leaving after her Daughter and Niece, quickly followed by Granny.
I didn’t know what else to do, so I lightly patted Claire’s hands she had intertwined in front of my belt buckle, while looking at the remaining people, silently asking for help. Aside from Claire, there were only the men of the family left, and not a single one of us seemed to be particularly adept in the emotional care department. When Claire still refused to let go of me after a minute, I decided to just move around anyway.
“What do you think you’re doing!?” Grandpa asked louder than necessary, causing me to look up and see all the guys regard me with skeptic looks, as I opened the whisky bottle and filled a fifth of my glass with it.
“Feel free to make yourself one too.” I answered indifferently, as I filled the rest of the glass with cold Coke.
I grabbed the glass and walked, as best as I could with Claire clinging to my waist, past them to the sofa. When I sat down, she simply moved around me and plopped herself onto my lap, wrapped her arms around me again, and buried her face back into my chest. The men were eyeing my drink, looking alarmed for some reason.
“You think this is a good idea, Tim?” John inquired carefully.
“The hospital wouldn’t give me any painkillers. I was supposed to still have some. Any idea where those ended up, by the way?” I asked with a pointed look at Aaron, who had covered for Ava. It was bullshit, of course, since the hospital had only given me three Zydol pills in a little paper pouch after I was stabbed, and recommended ibuprofen for my rib. But I wanted them to stop bothering me. I continued after raising my glass to them. “So, this is the next best thing.”
I had to smirk when I saw Grampa’s expression change from alarmed to surprised, before tilting his head to the side like he was thinking it over. Then he slowly pulled the corners of his mouth down and shrugged his shoulders. He was old-school enough to see the truth in my statement. I actually chuckled when he simply turned to make his own drink, causing Aaron and John to weakly protest, but we still ended up sitting around the coffee table with a drink in everyone’s hands.
“So ... you really stole from them?” Logan asked, after the alcohol had seemingly given him enough courage to talk to me.
“Yes.” I admitted, noting that my suspicion about Claire and Aaron listening in on me and Bill just got confirmed. But I saw the need to make sure he understood my new place in the pecking order. He would no longer get away with crap. “And let me tell you right now, Logan. You tell anyone about this, you try to get your hands on that money, you pull ANY crap on me again, I
“Timothy! What the hell!?” Aaron warned, but I wouldn’t let any of them interfere, so I simply continued.
