The city is quiet this time of day. It's getting colder outside now that autumn has finally hit Pittsburgh and Paddy has to slip into his jacket as he leaves the building.
Today is the 168th meeting that he's been sober after his relapse. They meet once weekly.
He's feeling great despite the chill settling in his old bones as he gets into his car. He likes the silence as he drives, thinking about everyone that has shared today and his own success in keeping clean for the last three odd years. Ever since Atlantic City. He's moved on from Moby Dick.
He hums a song that he's picked up recently after a visit to Brendan's. Rosie was just learning to play it on piano and he loves the simple tune. Even more so because his granddaughter can perform it quite beautifully.
A lot has changed and for the better. He's patched things up with his oldest son for the most part and his family accepts him. There's still that underlying wariness and every time he comes around, he can tell that his older son keeps a close eye on him. Even so, he couldn't be gladder that he gets to be part of their lives. He makes sure to live up to his role as grandpa, coming by once a month.
It's a blessing. He loves every minute of it.
He pulls up in front of his home, shuts off the motor and looks up to see Tommy leaning against the wall beside his front door. He feels his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
Brendan had called to tell him that he'd been discharged but none of them knew where he'd gone since then. Well, until the night of Brendan's birthday. After that he took off again, not breathing a word about his destination.
Paddy figured he needed time for himself to get his head back in the right place after almost two decades of army service. He told Brendan to stop worrying. Despite him being drunk for most of their adolescence, he'd always known that Tommy preferred solitude to think or straighten out after a rough time. That much he'd picked up.
But to see him standing on his doorstep is a rush of déjà vu. The last time his youngest was here and waiting for him, it was the beginning of a long process of training and his attempts to redeem himself in Tommy's eyes. One that caused a chain of events he could have never foreseen.
Paddy still doesn't really know where he stands with him. He likes to think its on better terms than before SPARTA, even though Tommy adamantly refused to think of that period of training as a bonding mechanism. He sent him letters when he was back in the Marines but received no answers.
Speaking to him at Brendan's birthday changed something though. What they have is a far cry from a healthy father-son relationship for sure, but Paddy feels like they have taken a tiny step in that direction.
He gets out slowly, walking up to the pavement. There's a dog barking in the distance and the air is even colder now that the sun has just dipped behind the houses. He looks at Tommy, who meets his gaze squarely in the dimness.
"Didn't I give you a key back then?" Paddy asks, slowly climbing the steps to his door. His knees are more rebellious now than four years ago. Or maybe it's just the weather.
"Didn't keep it," his son responds, digging his hands deeper into his sweatshirt pockets, "You letting me in for a coffee, old man?"
Just like that, he's placed them back on a level of conversation that could almost be normal. Paddy blinks a couple of times to realize that he really is here, really is speaking to him like there hasn't been another three-year rift between them.
"I thought you don't drink that stuff," he unlocks the door with sure hands and gestures for Tommy to come in anyway.
"Had enough time to change my mind," the former Marine says as he lets himself in and sheds his jacket. "I picked up new habits"
"You're not back on those pills again, are you?" he inquires as he flips on the lights in the living room and kitchen. He coughs in the sudden warm dryness of the house and puts on a pot of coffee. Tommy comes up behind him and sits at the tiny table.
"Nah," he cracks his neck, "Dropped it the day you took 'em"
"Good," is all Paddy can think of and then there's silence between the two while the coffee bubbles and brews. He observes Tommy, whom he's last seen months ago in Philadelphia, where he embraced Brendan like there had never been any distance at all. It had probably been the proudest moment of Paddy's life to see them that close again.
He's lost bulk since the War on the Shore. That much is obvious but more than that, he looks well. That threatening shadow that seemed to stick to him when he first came back to the country is gone. He's not filling the room with that repressed, dangerous aura. There's a new kind of calm.
"Where've you been since May?" he asks his son, placing a full mug in front of him. He still recalls him scoffing at sugar and cream.
"After the birthday? Everywhere. Rented a car in Texas and drove around the country from there," he sips the drink, "Most of the guys got family or a woman to go back to. I didn't have a plan. I wasn't going to ask to bunk with Brendan. I needed to get myself sorted"
Just as he had thought. Paddy takes a sip of his own coffee and quickly puts it down. He doesn't know how Tommy can drink something that is still that hot. "Have you?"
"Down in Texas, I stayed with someone," Tommy starts.
"The widow?"
His son pauses to take a breath, glances up at him. "Yeah. We talked. She's been real supportive. I don't know how she does it, workin' with two kids on her hands. Y'know Brendan donated prize money to her?"
Paddy shakes his head. "He never said but I thought he did," he stirs some milk into his mug, "You visited for three months?"
"One. Helped her fix the house up a bit. She needed a guy around, someone to help her with the kids and work," Tommy explains, "And I wanted to be needed"
He wishes he could understand where his son is coming from. He can sympathise but he can't say he had the same experience. When he returned from his service, he found solace in alcohol and it ruined his family and almost his entire life. He replaced purpose with oblivion. He didn't have that desire to be needed again but at least he can empathise with the loneliness.
"Did she give you answers?"
The younger man shrugs, "She made me talk it out. I think that was good enough," he gulps down more coffee, "I drove to the West after that. Felt good to see something new"
They both don't say the rest. Something different after years of desert heat, mountains, blood and bullets. Something that didn't remind in the least of the things he's been dragging around with himself.
"And now you've come back to the Burgh?"
A solid nod and there's a toothpick in Tommy's hand that he's fiddling with, concentrating on the object.
Paddy doesn't know what to say. He can't fathom his son's reasoning behind returning. He finally settles for a question that he knows will probably not be answered but an old father can hope. "To see me?"
Weirdly enough, the man opposite him doesn't outright deny it. "Home's where the heart is, right?"
"Tommy…" he says, disbelieving, but his son silences him with a sharp glance. He evidently still has something he wants to say.
"I got a house downtown. Moved in two weeks ago. I'm still working on it but it's done soon. I came back so I can be around Brendan. There's a lot we missed," he pauses, glancing up at his father before revealing his actual intentions, "And I need you to get me back in shape"
Paddy has this vertigo spreading through his body that is making his ears buzz and his eyes well up. He is touched. Beyond that even, stunned at the turn of events today. It doesn't matter that Tommy has once again not declared any love for him and that his main focus is his brother. He's here. And he wants to stay and he's not shutting him out of his life again. He takes a minute to realize that he's mentioned training.
"You want to get back in the cage?" he questions, successfully keeping his voice level.
"Colt's made an offer. I just hit thirty, pop. There's a whole lot of years I can do this. It's what I'm cut out for. And I want you to help me," he says it firmly but its not a demand this time. They're not in the same situation as in 2011, Paddy knows the terms of this contract now. It's a request. He can always say no.
"You'll pay me this time?" he finally asks with a hint of a smile tugging at his lip.
Tommy's eyes narrow over his coffee but it's not spiteful. Almost bemused, he shrugs, "If I get family discount"
"If you're sure it's what you want. You got yourself a deal, son," Paddy reaches out his hand, elbow propped up on the table, giving him an expectant look. The former marine doesn't hesitate to take it. It's a clasping of hands that signifies another start for them. Paddy can feel it in his aging, sober soul. He takes a rattling breath and forces the lump in his throat back but he smiles wide.
Tommy finishes his coffee and leans back in his chair. Paddy sums up the courage to ask about him receiving the letters. He nods but doesn't acknowledge their contents. They talk about safe subjects for a while. Despite the invisible boundaries, there's a sense of familiarity that Paddy has missed. Simply the fact that conversation is taking place without straining to identify his son's ulterior motives. He thinks that whatever happened to change Tommy in these past months, he is glad it did.
Later, he offers him dinner but that is declined. His son says he should head back because he's having kitchen furniture delivered tomorrow. Paddy walks him to the front door and hands him the sweatshirt. It's the same one he wore to Atlantic City, he notes. It's fully dark now and the temperature has dropped at least another five degrees.
Tommy pauses on the doorstep, turns to look at him one more time before he goes. He appears to contemplate something for several seconds. His face is pale in the darkness and in the youthful features, there's a something like apprehension as he faces the house. Then Paddy suddenly finds his son wrapping an arm around him in a brief but powerful hug.
It barely lasts two seconds in which Paddy just manages to bring up his own arm to return the gesture. Despite that, he feels he's never had a more magical moment with his son since the boy was born.
Tommy backs off, walks down the steps and pulls his hood over his head as he hits the street. He doesn't look back as he leaves but Paddy stays there, watching him go.
That night, he goes to bed feeling the happiest he has in many years.