Rating: PG

Summary: A little Byers-Michael bonding...and a little father-son bonding...and maybe the revelation that love isn't perfect, and neither are parents. It's a lot to take in one day.

Spoilers: Nah.
 

MICHAEL:

I'm such an asshole.

I ended up arguing with Kelly the whole way back from DC.

I told her I was mad at my dad for not getting me up last night, and she said she figured if I was going to act like I was then it was good he didn't.

I am so pissed at him. He and me, we're gonna have a few choice words-actually, I'm gonna have the choice words, and he's gonna listen.

Yeah, right. Like he always listens so well. Not.

He's a lot better at talking at me than he is at listening to me. It's like he gets the preachy part of dadness down real good, but the other part, well, obviously, he doesn't think it's important.

I'd like to know how I AM supposed to act here. I mean, I'm doing everything wrong, but I haven't heard anyone yet tell me what's the right thing.

Okay, Langly, maybe a little. But even he wasn't all that helpful. He mostly got pissed at his wife. Which I assume he is right now, because she looks kind of irritated when we come in the kitchen, and usually she only gets that bugged when she's mad at him or Miranda. I don't even see him, but there's lights on in the office, so maybe he's with my dad. I know my dad's here because I saw his car. Prof's here, too. Jesus, can we get anybody else in on the act?

I get tired of being humiliated so much in public.

I tell Kelly I'm going out back to talk to my dad, and she just nods her head.

I want this day to end. Big time.
 

I'm ready to read Dad the riot act, but looks like Langly beat me to it. Why he's at him, I have no idea, but I think it's something to do with nobody tells us anything.

Dad doesn't say anything for a long time, just takes in Langly's rant. When Langly finally comes up for air, Dad just looks him up and down, then straight at his eyes, and says, "Are you finished?"

Langly thinks about this for a moment, then says, "Yeah." And leaves.

I don't think Dad's getting off so easy this time.

"Y'know, you should've woken me up last night," I snarl at him.

"I did what I thought was right." Don't try to force my dad into admitting he's wrong. Doesn't work.

"Yeah, well, I'd like somebody to tell me what's right, since everyone else seems to know and I don't!" It's been a long day, and I snap. I'm off on a yell.

"Michael, your actions right only confirm what I thought." His voice is cold, hard.

Don't ever get the idea my dad is a postmodern type sensitive sort of guy. He might be out there in a few areas, but when it comes down to being a dad, he's the ultimate traditionalist.

This means he talks and I listen.

And I'm tired of it.

"Michael, what's done is done, and I believe I did the right thing, and you're welcome to your own opinion, but it's not going to change anything. And as far as I'm concerned, this discussion is over." He turns back to whatever he's typing.

I stalk angrily over to where he's sitting. "Look, I don't have a clue what I'm supposed to do! Tell me!" I'm just about in his face. Then I feel a hand on my shoulder.

I thought Langly went back to argue with his wife.

It's not Langly. It's the prof.

"Michael." His voice is real soft. "Let's take a walk." He passes a look to my dad, who just nods.

What the fuck does HE want?

I'm not in the mood.

He motions me towards the door and then puts his coat on.

Let's face it, I'm a follower. So I trudge along with him.

If there's a definition of masculinity out there, I must be the farthest thing from it.
 

"You wanted to go for a walk. Any reason?" I'm in a real bad mood.

"I just thought you might want to get away from the situation for a while, back up, calm down." He's so calm compared to Langly, who gets a lot more stressed out over stuff.

"I'd just like somebody to tell me what the fuck I am supposed to do! I feel like Kelly needs me and I just keep making it worse, it's like nobody talks to me! And my dad treats me like I'm some kind of stupid kid."

I actually think I see the prof smirk, but he drops it real quick.

Maybe I just imagined it. I don't even know anymore.

"Everyone of us knows that Kelly's in a difficult spot. And you, too."

No shit, Sherlock.

"I'm not certain I agree with the way your father handled it, but I think he meant well. Try not to be too hard on him."

It's real cold out here. And it hurts my lungs a lot.

My heart feels like a lead weight that's pressing on my guts.

The prof suddenly stops. I can't hear his footsteps-he must be taking lessons from the damn cat-so I'm kind of surprised when he quits moving.

Now what?

I think I've always been a thorn in the prof's side. He seems to get annoyed with me real easy. Of my dad, Langly and him, I've got the least credibility with him.

So it's a real shock when I see nothing but concern and compassion in those clear blue eyes. He and Langly, they're both blue-eyed, but real different eyes.

"What can I do for you, Michael?"

I'm like totally blown away. Byers is like the last person I expected to do this for me. I mean, he's a nice guy and all, but like I said, I don't think he likes me a whole lot.

"I dunno." Here, I want people to help me, and I've got no idea what I want them to help me with. "I got to get things right with Kelly."

He shakes his head real slow. "It's going to be hard to get anything right with Kelly right now. She's not feeling too right with herself, and it's going to be awhile."

"How'd you know this?" I demand.

He looks majorly pained. "You notice Juliet hasn't been here yet."

"Figured she was working."

"Well, she is, but I suspect she's home by now. And I think she wants to be here, but it's going to be...difficult for her, to say the least. You see, Juliet went through a similar experience a few years back."

"Oh, shit, man, I'm sorry."

"She had just started graduate school, and she was consulting with her advisor, who seemed to be concerned about her work, and she was under the impression he was a very involved and compassionate advisor, and she felt lucky to get him. As her advisor, she had to meet with him regularly. She described the relationship as friendly, but nothing she ever took for more
than that. Apparently, her advisor had other ideas."

He starts walking again. I know he doesn't like to talk about this. It's got to be hard.

"He and she were discussing her thesis, and it became late, and he suggested something to eat. She agreed, figuring it would be somewhere on campus, they'd just grab something. But he said he felt like a real dinner, and he offered to treat. The evening progressed, and she ended up at his home, presumably to continue working with her coding project for her thesis, which apparently was very complicated, and she was running into a lot of roadblocks with it. She was grateful for the help.

"Apparently he had had a great deal of wine, and began to make advances towards her..." this idea makes him wince hard. "And she attempted to tell him that this was not her intention, and he seemed to become very angry..."

He doesn't want to go on, and he doesn't have to. I don't need the whole picture drawn, thank you very much.

"So what'd she say helped her?"

"Her parents, mostly. She's very fortunate in having wonderful parents. They supported her completely. She said she'd never have been able to get through the experience without them."

"Kelly's parents-well, her mom-is the reason this happened in the first place!"

"Kelly's family dynamic-well, let's say it leaves a lot to be desired. But she has people who care about her. Especially you."

"And I wasn't even there to help her when she came to our house! I was sleeping, and my dad wouldn't get me up!"

"As I said, I'm not sure I'd have handled things in the same manner. But I know your father means well. He cares a great deal for you. He knew this would be...upsetting, to say the least, for you."

So what am I supposed to say to that?

"I asked her what helped her the most. She said it was that her parents listened to her, and didn't judge her. They didn't come down on her for what appeared to be her poor judgment-I think at the time, Juliet was very naïve in her relationships with men, and they realized that. She said it wasn't so much anything specific. They were just always there. I think that's what you have to be, Michael. There."

"I'm trying to be."

"I know."

"And anytime you need to scream or complain to someone, I'm usually around."

I'm amazed.

"You can be strong, Michael. You really can."

We head back towards the offices.

People really amaze me sometimes.
 

Kelly looks a lot better when I get back. She and Ally have mapped out stuff. For at least now, Kelly's gonna stay in Shelby's old room, which was my old room...sort of like the Langly official orphan sanctuary.

Ally also has info on Troy. He's in jail still, thank God. He can't post bail, and come to find out, it's not the dude's first offense, so he's not likely to be able to post it. Plus he's poor.

I hope it's the only thing he and I ever have in common.

And I've got no intentions of being poor forever. I mean, I may not get rich, but I'm not gonna be totally scraping all my life.

Ally says that somebody other than Kelly should go get her stuff, but Kelly's firm on that. She needs to talk to her mom, anyway. Ally compromises, says that at least two of the adults have to go with us.

This annoys the hell out of me. What does she think I am, anyway? I'm two months from my 25th birthday.

25. A friggin' quarter of a century.

I mean, I'm not annoyed that we need to take some people with us-I don't feel like dealing with her people, and I'm sure she doesn't, but I'm trying to be a grownup here, and she's not seeing it.

Much as I love Ally, sometimes she REALLY gets on my nerves.

But then I realize that she's such a mommy, and maybe that will help Kelly.

Or drive her crazy. Ally'll do a little bit of both to you.

Just ask her husband.
 

"This was my room last year," I tell Kelly.

It looks different. Shelby had up stuff from all the bands she liked and just generally goofy girl stuff all around. Place looks more like a hotel room right now.

Well, okay, more like Motel 6. Except they have more towels around here-if you can ever find a clean one. Mostly they live on Miranda's floor.

I have to warn her about that. I got to where I hid my towels because Miranda is like a towel-sucking monster. And she's got no restraint whatsover-she runs out, she starts raiding Ally and Langly's collection. This is the cause of a large number of arguments at Chateau Langly-well, it was when I was there.

Miranda's also got a better TV, but hey, she is the owners' kid, and I suppose getting any TV in a house that's not yours and you don't pay rent in is better than nothing.

"I feel weird about this," Kelly says, checking out the room that is a lot more bare, not to mention a hell of a lot cleaner, than when I lived in it. Shelby must've done it before she left, because Ally doesn't go down here and Miranda doesn't even clean up her own room. I know this because I've damn near killed myself a number of times trying to get to the bathroom, which if you're outside, you have to go through her room.

"I don't think you wanna go back to your mom's, though."

She looks real sad. "I don't. But I'm gonna miss my mom."

I don't believe this.

All the shit she's put Kelly through, and Kelly's gonna miss her?!

How does she forgive her all this shit?

Kelly seems to read my head, and she just shrugs. "She's my mom."

I don't see my mom the same way. I don't think I ever could.

But all I can say is, "Maybe someday things'll get better and you guys can work it out."

She blinks back a couple tears. "I hope so. I'm just worried, about her and Tracy. What they're going to do. They both depend on me..."

She's crying again.

I sit down next to her and put my arm over her shoulder, and let her cry.

Try to let her know she can depend on somebody else for a while.

Even if it is somebody as useless as me.
 

Kelly and I watch "The Simpsons." They're doing "The Springfield Files," which is a classic. She even laughs a little.

She looks tired.

I tell her we'll get her stuff, but she says she has to go.

This is making me real nervous.

Particularly when I find out it's my dad and Langly going with us.

I kind of wish my dad wasn't going. I'm not real happy with him right now.

Last thing I want to do is prove him right about me.
 

Kelly really doesn't have much stuff. Just her clothes, and she hasn't got a lot, and her books, which she hasn't got a lot of, either. And her hair clips and stuff like that.

I think I had more stuff when I left Jersey.

I'm real glad that didn't take long. I'm hoping she changes her mind about seeing her mom.

She doesn't.

And she wants to go in alone.

I don't want her to do it alone. I really want to be with her.

I don't, but I don't want her alone.

She's firm on that.

So we wait.

I want to run after her so bad.

We wait.
 

It's only like forever when she comes out. And she's crying.

Once again I wrap her in my arms and let her cry.

I am not only pathetic, but utterly useless.
 

We take Langly and Kelly back first. Kelly's not crying when we get back.

She's just a zombie.

I walk her downstairs and I just hold her for a few minutes.

I want to ask her about what she and her mom said, but Dad says we have to go.

Ally promises she'll go and check on her after we leave.

I'm exhausted.
 

Dad tells me to go to bed when we get home. He says I sound like I've got another cold coming on.

I can't even tell. I feel miserable, but I think I just ache from seeing Kelly hurt so bad.

I'm getting tired of being pushed around by him, but I'm so tired, I don't argue. I hit the shower first and try to stop trembling, which I discover I am.

Wonder how long that's been going on.

My bed's warm, but knowing Kelly's suffering, I'm feeling kind of chilly in it. I pull my new comforter over me-maybe I should loan it to her. Maybe she'd feel better with it.

I'm almost ready to turn out the lights when Dad walks in, with two bowls in his hand.

Looks like milk and crackers.

"You all right?" He asks me, and he looks worried.

I want to tell him I'm fine, things are cool, I'm tough, I can take this.

I end up shaking my head no, and I'm feeling my eyes stinging. It's not from my lenses. They're out.

He sets the two bowls on my night table, sits on the edge of my bed, and ruffles up my hair.

"I used to do this all the time with you when you were little. You had a lot of colds and ear infections and asthma attacks. Are you still sick during the winter all the time?"

I think about that. I mean, I don't think I've ever done pneumonia before this year, but yeah, every year, I get a cold in the fall and it doesn't go away till spring.

"First year of your life, your mother and I wondered a few times if you were going to make it. You were one sick baby."

I didn't know this. And I'm really not in the mood to hear about it, either, but Dad seems to want to talk about it.

"I wish I hadn't missed all the years in between, Michael." He looks away. I think I hear his voice choke a little.

You weren't the only one, dude.

"I don't feel like I can make it up to you now."

He's wrong about that.

"But I'm trying. I think we're all trying. We all fall short, but at least we're all trying. And I know you're trying to do the best you can for Kelly."

I take a spoonful of crackers and milk. God, when was the last time I ate?

He does the same. "I'd always have a bowl of this when I was up with you. And when you got old enough, I'd fix one for you."

"Is this a Baltimore thing?" I ask.

"I don't know. Maybe it's a military thing, or just a family thing, I don't know."

"I'm worried about her." I'm surprised at how small my voice is.

"I worry about both of you."

No, Dad, you worry about all of us.

Where does he find the time?

"Sometimes you both seem so...fragile. Although today, I think you showed yourself well."

Is he out of his mind? I was a basket case today!

More milk and crackers. I feel my stomach settle down a little bit.

"She says she misses her mom." I'm still having trouble with this one.

"I'm not surprised."

"Yeah, but she's a lousy mother!"

"I'm not going to give her points for her skills at parenting-I should talk-"

"Get off it, Dad."

"-but she does, in her own way, love her daughter. That's all any of us seem to be able to do. And speaking of mothers...I have something for you."

He leaves for a couple minutes, returns with an envelope. "I was holding this until I thought you'd be ready to accept it." He hands it to me.

I recognize the Catholic school cursive on the envelope. My mom's.

I open it. She's written something inside.

"Dear Michael-I hope this finds you feeling better. Michael, I never intended for us to not be in touch. I felt that the only way I could get through to you was to be tough on you. Little did I know what the consequences would be. But I did want to say that I'm sorry, that I love you very much, and I hope you have a Merry Christmas. Call me anytime. Love, Mom."

And she put a check in there. It's for a hundred bucks-I'm shocked. My mom's a nurse and she does okay, but this is a lot of money for her.

"She's trying, too, isn't she?" My dad asks. Once again, he's got the little choke in his voice.

"Maybe I oughta call her and thank her tomorrow," I say.

"That's a good idea. Now get some sleep." He pulls the covers over my shoulders and kisses me on the forehead.

My last image of that night is him walking out quietly with the two empty bowls.

END OF PART 42