"Why do you even bother?" Ephram hollered. The words hung between them for a few seconds until he continued, "Why did you even bother to drag us out here? After neglecting us for so many years what made you think you could start now?"
"Would you rather have had me be the way I was then?" Andy yelled back.
"Yeah! It'd be better than me having to watch you try like a dumbass! Why can't you just give up! You weren't made to be a father! You were made to be a doctor! So just go back to the way you were; I don't care." He threw his hands down in pure hatred and then stomped off to his room, slamming the door behind him.
Andy sighed. One night working late, and suddenly his son hated him. It was the worst of nights to work late because Delia had a nightmare, after unsuccessfully trying to watch Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory again, and Ephram blamed his father for not being there.
The next morning his son continued to give him the cold shoulder. He tried a few times to explain to the boy that he was not going to return to his old ways, that he would strive to be the good father he had become these past few months. Ephram wouldn't hear a word. He was too protective of Delia to hear.
So Andy sadly drove off to the office, first stopping at Mama Joy's for a quick cup of coffee. When he got there he found that someone he already knew was there: Dr. Gretchen Trott.
"Well, hello, Andy!" she greeted as he sat on the stool beside her and ordered coffee. "How have you been?"
"All right, all right. I didn't know you were back in town," he replied, unable to hide the sad look in his eyes.
"For a few days. Is something wrong? What is it?"
"Oh, nothing. I don't want to bother you."
"Come on, Andy; you know that of all people, you can tell me. What is it?"
He sighed and smoothed his haggard face tiredly. "It's my son. I made a mistake last night, and he can't seem to understand why I dragged him out here in the first place, or why I'm trying to be a good father after neglecting him for so many years."
"Do you know what the answer is?" He nodded. "Why don't you tell him?"
"Every time I try to, he doesn't give me a chance."
Dr. Trott flicked her golden hair behind her shoulder and took a sip of her coffee. "Well, Andy, I would suggest taking the advice I gave you in February. Write it down. It might help."
"I wouldn't know where to begin."
She adjusted her glasses and shrugged. "Begin . . . where Ephram left off."
He smiled. "Thanks, Gretchen."
That is what he did. When he got home from work that evening, he sat at the table and began to write:
Ephram, you asked me why I bothered. Here is my answer.
What if you died tomorrow? Most likely, you won't. There is always that chance that will be with you always, but death will probably leave you alone. However, it will follow you every single day of your life. So, it isn't strange to wonder: what if? What if it all ends tomorrow?
If you did pass away, there would always be that incomplete feeling lingering in the air because of all the things you left unfinished. It might be the person you had romantic person you had feelings for but never approached. It might be someone you were never nice to. It might be someone who you had a grudge against who deserved your forgiveness. Whoever it might be, you just keep thinking that you'll deal with them tomorrow. Your pride forces you to wait till later. But you see, you cannot continue to procrastinate because you will run out of "tomorrows".
You might die tomorrow, and I might too. No one can ever see it coming. You might think you have tons of time and then realize that you don't when it is too late. I might not have tomorrow, but I have today and no matter what happened yesterday I have to use my time wisely.
When your mother died I realized that ordinary, healthy people die every day and that the next person might be me. The reason I brought you to Everwood and the reason that I'm trying my hardest to be a good father to you and your sister now is because it is something that I have put off for so long and something that I have always wanted.
Ephram, we must live like we are going to die tomorrow. Because one day, that day will come. For your mother that day came, and I am not going to go without knowing that I knew my children. It won't be easy for me. But it is something I need to do.
When he finished it was eleven o'clock. He took the piece of paper and slipped it under Ephram's bedroom door. He smiled to himself, knowing that he had finally given Ephram an answer that he would understand.
--Fin--
[A/N: Yeah, sorry it's so bad. Just wanted to try something different. Review!]