The night had come and passed with out another event for the Pryor family as each of them went about their own private business. The air around the breakfast table was thick as they all attempted not to say anything that would bring up the discomfort each had endured the night before. Even Patty remained remarkably less talkative as they readied themselves for school.
Jack Pryor was the first standing ready at the back door as he called. "Come on kids, I have to be at the store a little early to help Henry receive a shipment. Could we please get things moving on time for once."
Patty was the first to rush past her father to the car. "I'm ready," she remarked as she rushed by with a smug smirk. "I'm always ready when you want me to be."
Jack rolled his eyes at her blatant attempt to receive 'favorite child' status again. "Thank you Patty," he sighed reluctantly. "Now if we could get the rest of the family out the door, we can start our day."
"I can't find my bag of favorite marbles," Will spoke with displeasure as he approached the door. "I left it in my lunch box last night."
"And I put them back up in your room with the rest of your toys," Helen said as she leaned over him. "You know sister Mary Francis doesn't want you boys playing with the marbles especially when you play to win each other's marbles."
"Why not?" He asked as she helped him on with his jacket.
"Because playing for the other person's property is like gambling," she said zipping up his coat. "God doesn't like it when people gamble."
Will tilted his head slightly. "Then what's bingo?"
Jack could not help snickering as he down the last of the coffee in his cup.
Handing him his red plaid metal lunch box, she gave her son a stern raised eyebrow. "We can talk about the church's fund raiser when you get back from school this afternoon. Until then, you just mind your manners young man."
"Yes Mom," he kissed her cheek.
"Go wait in the car," Jack ushered him out the door. "We'll be right out."
Crossing her arms, Helen gave her husband a stern look.
"What?" He gestured with his hands.
"He's becoming your son more every day," she said with a raised eyebrow.
He leaned in and kissed her sweetly. "And you have a problem with that?"
After they kissed, Helen pulled back and slapped his arm playfully. "You will not be happy until your sons are men."
Jack picked up his briefcase and stepped out the door. "Tell JJ and the girls to get a move on," he grinned. "I'll talk to you tonight."
"Wait," she stopped him. "It's Thursday."
He looked back at her. "Yes and tomorrow is Friday. Why does that matter?"
Helen looked in both directions to make sure they were alone. "Richie is leaving tomorrow unless you tell him not to. Have you decided if you will talk to him?"
He lowered his head in defeat. "I don't have time to think about this Helen. I have a big day planned at the store, and I don't have the time to worry about my spoiled little brother right now."
"But he'll leave," she protested. "I know you are trying not to let him effect you, but I also know that you really want to work this out and have your little brother back."
"Helen, please," he glanced at his watch. "I don't have the time for this."
"He'll be gone soon," she pushed. "You need to decide quickly."
"I will," he nodded.
"When?"
"Later," he replied. "Right now I need to get the kids dropped off and myself to work. JJ!" he called out one last time. "We'll talk tonight."
As Jack disappeared out the door, Meg walked in from the hall pulling her jacket on. Her best friend Roxanne, who had spent the night, was shortly behind her.
"Did you have time to sew my new blue skirt?" She asked in a rush.
"No," Helen frowned. "But I promise I'll have it ready for Bandstand on Saturday."
"Thank you, Mom," Meg kissed her cheek. "See you later."
After she had stepped out, Helen watched the deliberately slow Roxanne picking up the brown paper bag with her name on it off of the table where JJ's was the only remaining one. She eyed her modest attire made up mostly of a borrow school uniform from Meg's closet.
"Roxanne," Helen woke her from her slow daze. "I spoke with your mother when I told her you would be spending the night here last night."
Roxanne looked up at the elder woman.
"We agreed to meet at the snack bar over as Woolworth's this afternoon on her lunch break," Helen told her with a kind voice. "I think she's willing to talk about ways to keep you from having to be sent away."
"Really?" Roxanne beamed.
"I can't promise anything," she nodded with a smile. "But I think she wants you to stay as much as you do."
"Oh thank you, Mrs. Pryor," she wrapped her arms around her. "I can't tell you how much this means to me."
"I know," Helen, returned the embrace. "Just try and keep out of trouble until we get everything worked out."
Roxanne pulled away with a slightly evil eye. "I'll try."
They shared a small laugh as Roxanne bolted out the door just as the horn from the car echoed loudly into the kitchen.
"JJ!" Helen yelled again. "Your father is waiting!"
At the last syllable of the last word, JJ came jogging into the room pulling his book bag shut. "I know," he spoke frantically. "I didn't sleep very well last night and I'm moving a little slower than normal today."
She watched as he downed a glass of orange juice and swiped his lunch bag off the table as he approached the door. "JJ," she stopped him just as he stepped pass.
"Yeah Mom," he turned back.
"I think what you did for Will last night was very sweet," she rolled down the collar of his letterman jacket. "Things are hard on all of us right now, and Will needs someone he can count on when your father and I may be involved with other matters."
"I understand," he nodded.
She looked over his shoulder as the others jockeyed for seats in the car. "Your father is having to deal with a lot of past pain that he has blocked out for years by Richie being here, so please don't hold anything he might say or do on the matter against him."
"Is he," JJ glanced back. "Is he going to talk to Uncle Richie?"
Helen took a deep breath crossing her arms and rested on the doorframe. "I think he wants to," she sighed. "But Jack is a very proud man and he doesn't give in to pressure very often. He may let this opportunity get away."
"I made Uncle Richie promise he would not leave without saying goodbye this time," JJ told her with concern in his eyes. "Did I do the wrong thing?"
"No," she ran her palm across his face. "If you need to see him, then you do what you have to, but just don't expect the same results from your father."
The horn blared again.
"I won't," he kissed his mother's cheek. "I'll see you after school."
Helen stood at the door as they all finally piled into the station wagon and it backed out of the driveway. She turned slowly and walked back into the house when the phone started ringing.
"Hello," she answered after rushing down the hall.
"Helen?" Richie's voice came back. "It's me, Rich."
"I know," she smiled politely as if he could see her. "If you're calling for Jack or JJ, they just drove off."
"Oh," his frail voice came back.
"Richie?" She questioned. "Are you okay? You sound tired."
"I didn't sleep very well last night," he returned. "I guess I had allot on my mind."
"Yeah, I know the feeling," she agreed. "There's a lot of that going around."
After a long silence, his voice came back. "Did Jack say if he was going to come by and see me today?"
She had not wanted to be the one to tell him, and she hated being in the middle of the two brother's disagreement, but Helen knew she could not let him go on with false hope that would only hurt him worst in the end. "Richie," she started. "I think you should be prepared for the possibility that Jack is not going to come around very easily on this."
"So you're saying he's not wanting to see me?" Richie asked.
She waited to answer as long as she could, and then she said slowly, "not on this visit, Richie."
Now it was his turn not to want to give a reply.
"I'm sorry," Helen broke the long silence. "I wish there were something I could say or do to change his mind, but with what happen between you and your folks and then the memories of Father O'Malley coming back to the surface, it's just a little more than Jack is willing to deal with right now."
A loud sigh was heard over the line. "I never meant to hurt him, Helen. I never meant to hurt anyone."
A tear trickled down her cheek as she could feel his pain over the phone. "I know, Richie. I know."
"Well," he sighed again. "Maybe I'll try again in another twelve years. Thank you for everything."
She didn't want this to happen. Helen was not ready to let Jack and his brother give up on each other, and she knew she had to give him one last ray of hope. "Richie," she stopped him before he hung up. "Please don't leave with out saying goodbye to Jack. It might help ease the way into a reunion some time in the near future if he knew you at least cared enough to say goodbye this time."
"I do care, Helen," Richie said back with a grief stricken voice.
"Then go by the store this afternoon," Helen suggested. "Just to say goodbye."
After another long moment, she could hear a noise as if he were nodding his head against the phone receiver. "Okay Helen," he spoke softly. "I'll do that, and thank you again for everything. Tell the kids Uncle Richie says bye."
As Helen hung up the phone, her heart sank in her chest as she realized that this might have been the last time she would ever hear her brother-in-law's voice again. She allowed herself to slump down into the wooden chair next to the phone table and she cried as her hand ran across the phone's cradle. "Oh Richie," she sobbed. "I'm not sure Jack will be able to live with himself, this time."
Henry Walker had just finished unloading the shipment of small portable televisions with his nephew Nathan when his some Sam made his way into the store. The elder man gave his son a stern look as he took notice from across the store. "Shouldn't you be on your way to school right now?"
"I am," the soft-spoken son nodded. "But I didn't have a chance to talk to you before you left the house this morning. You left while I was still in the shower."
Henry took a hanker shift from his back pocket and wiped his brow. "I told you over dinner last night that I needed to get in early this morning since we had a truck to unload."
"I forgot," the young handsome Sam hung his head slightly.
"Well you better make it quick so you're not late," Henry continued. "What do you need son?"
"Two dollars," Sam cocked his head slightly glancing up from the corner of his eye. "I ripped my school track uniform yesterday while I was practicing, and I need to replace it. My scholarship doesn't cover replacement uniforms."
Tucking his hanky back into his pocket, Henry took a deep breath and sighed disappointedly. "You couldn't have asked me this last night?"
"You looked tired," Sam shrugged. "I thought you might be better in the morning."
Rubbing his hand across the back of his neck, Henry shook his head. "What am I going to do with you, boy? I don't have two dollars to throw away on a school uniform. Where am I going to get that type of money?"
"You could ask, Jack," Nathan's voice came from a few feet away.
"Jack, who?" Henry asked with a frown.
"Jack Pryor, your boss," Nathan added. "It's about time he started paying you what you are worth around here."
"You mind your manners, boy," Henry shook his index finger. "He is Mr. Pryor to us and he pays what he can afford."
"While you bring in all the business," Nathan remarked. "And I ain't no boy."
"You haven't proven to be much of a man just yet, either," Henry commented sarcastically. "Now when do you need this money?"
"By Monday," Sam replied eyeing his more abrasive cousin.
Henry shook his head. "I'll talk with Mr. Pryor and see if he has a few odd jobs for you to do here Saturday, and then you come by and work it off."
"I have plans Saturday," Sam protested.
"Then you change them, son," Henry said sternly. "I am not the one who carelessly ripped my uniform, so I am not the one who is going to replace it. Do you understand me?"
"Yes Sir," Sam nodded.
"Good," Henry patted his son's shoulder. "Now get on to school and don't be late. I'll let you know what Mr. P says."
Sam nodded once and then left the store.
"Wouldn't be needing to ask the boss man for a few favors if he would just pay you what you are worth around here," Nathan started. "Bad enough you aren't even allowed to call the man by his first name. Mr. Pryor this and Mr. Pryor that, while all the while he don't ever call you anything but by your first name."
"You got a problem with the way I live my life, boy?" Henry turned to him with an angry scowl.
"I told you," Nathan snapped. "I ain't a boy!"
"You listen to me little man," Henry got within a foot of his face. "I answered to the name 'Boy' for over thirty years of my life before I came to work for Mr. P, so if he wants to call me Henry while I call him by his sir name, then that is all fine and well with me. Because I have been called some far worst things my entire life, and I will not sass my boss just because you think I should have a more militant approach."
"If you hate being called names so much," Nathan tried to sound firm as he gazed into his uncle's eyes. "Then why do you keep calling me 'Boy' when you know that I hate it."
"Because, Boy," Henry curled his lips with a sneer. "Maybe if you get use to hearing it from someone who actually cares about you, then you won't be so quick to fly off the handle when someone out there says it even in a slip of the tongue."
Nathan eyed him cautiously.
Pulling back slightly, Henry looked away for a second. "I know you think I'm just trying to be some big bad authority figure in your life," he turned back. "But I am trying to teach you to have a little respect for other people and their opinions weather they be right or wrong. In this world, son, you need to give a little respect if you are going to ever hope of getting any back."
Nodding his head, Nathan gulped slightly. "Yes Sir,"
"That's better," Henry nodded back with a grin. "You just remember to mind your manners and respect your elders, and maybe someday you'll live long enough to be one."
The station wagon pulled up in front of the East Catholic campus when all the Pryor children pilled out and went to start their new school day until all that remained were Jack and a somber JJ who sat in the front seat next to him. The younger man sat studying the pull strings of his book bag as his father watched for a moment.
"Is there something on your mind, son?" Jack asked glancing over.
JJ looked up nervously then shook his head. "No," he said reaching for the door handle. "You need to get to work."
"JJ," Jack put his hand his son's shoulder. "Wait a minute."
Sitting back, JJ glanced up his father sheepishly.
"Listen, son," Jack started running his right hand over the steering wheel. "I know last night I was a little upset with all the news and Richie being back in town, and I might have blown up at you a little too easily, but I want you to know that if you need to talk, I am here and willing to hear you out."
"He's hurting Dad," JJ spoke the words with short and precise sounds.
"We're all hurting, Jackie," Jack returned.
"No I mean he's really hurting," JJ looked over at him. "Ever since Uncle Richie has pulled into town, all anyone has talked about is why he left and how much he hurt us, but I think everyone is forgetting a very important question in all of this."
"And what would that be, JJ?"
"Why is he back?" JJ said with a soft tone. "After twelve years he just pops into town, and no one has thought to ask him why he has come back and what he might want or need."
"He could easily tell us what he wants if he wanted to, JJ," Jack reminded him.
"How," JJ tossed his hands in the air. "No one has taken the time to stop yelling at him or asking why he left to ask him where he has been all this time and why is he back, now?"
Jack tapped the wheel a few times not knowing how to respond.
"I want to see him again," JJ finally spoke through the void of silence. "I think he needs to see me again, too."
"I won't stop you, JJ," Jack looked into his eyes. "I just want you to be careful not to let him break your heart again."
"I think he needs to see you again," JJ added.
"I don't," Jack started.
"Dad," JJ stopped him. "I love Uncle Richie, and he loves me, Mom, Meg, Will and Patty, but he didn't come all the way back here to see us. He came to see you. He came because he needs to see you for what ever reason it might be."
"I can't, JJ," Jack lowered his head.
"Please, Dad," JJ pleaded. "What ever brought him back here has been eating away at him and his heart is as broken as his body. He needs you, and I think whether you believe it or not, you need him just as much."
Jack looked up out the window. "You should be going, JJ. It looks like school is about to start."
JJ slumped back in the seat for a moment. "Okay," he lifted his bag and reached for the handle again. "But promise me something," he looked over his shoulder as the door open. "Promise me you will think about it and try and put yourself in his place for just one minute. He needs you Dad."
Within a couple of seconds, JJ slammed the door and Jack watched him as he walked into the building as few friends gathered around him. JJ took a moment to look back and give his father a long hard look as if pleading for his compliance.
The morning flew bye and they were already into the first period after lunch when Roxanne Bojarski came rushing across the gymnasium floor when she saw Meg across the hall toying with a jump rope.
"Meg," she latched onto her arm trying to keep her dress shoes from slipping on the slick floor. "Where have you been?"
"Right here," Meg smirked. "Where you would be if you were not in punishment study hall for the whole slit skirt incident."
"Alright," Roxanne huffed trying to catch her breath. "Stupid question. But I had to see you. It's after one, and I need to know if you had heard from your Mom."
"You mean about My Mom and your Mom working out a plan to keep you here in Philadelphia?" Meg teased her friend. "Of course not. It's not like I can carry a telephone around with me all the time and get phone calls whenever I want. This is not some science fiction movie."
"Ohh," Roxanne pounded her on the shoulder lightly in frustration. "This is killing me," she gasped. "I need to know what was said. I need to know what will happen to me."
"I'm sure you will," Meg grinned tugging up her gym shorts. "You'll just have to wait until we get home."
"I can't wait that long," she grunted then a gleam came to her eye as she watched two nuns walk by. "I have an idea," she grinned widely.
"No," Meg protested. "You're ideas are what got you in trouble in the first place. I don't want any part of it."
"But Meg," Roxanne cooed. "All we need is a plan that involves one of us having a reason to call home and talk to our mothers. And since my mother is at work and they don't like her receiving phone calls, as strange as they may sound for an operator, your Mom would be the perfect choice."
"So you want me to lie about a reason to call home?" Meg's eyes were wide with surprise. "How am I supposed to do that?"
"I don't know," Roxanne tugged at her arm pulling her towards the door. "We'll have to come up with something before we get to Sister Mary Margaret's office."
The two girls rushed to the door as the ignored the calling of their names by the resident's nuns in the gym.
The afternoon shoppers at the Woolworth's department store were beginning to thicken as Helen Pryor made her way to the front entrance. She had had lunched with Mrs. Bojarski as promised and had spent the next half hour making some minor purchases for her family after their meeting. She walked onto the crowded down town sidewalk and she saw someone she did not expect.
"Richie?" She called to her brother in law who was faced the other way watching the moving traffic for the next bus.
He turned quickly. "Helen?" He greeted her with a wide smile. "I didn't expect to see you in town."
"I met a friend for lunch and then did some shopping," she replied stepping closer between the moving passerbies's. "I didn't expect to see you all the way from the Belmont Hotel."
"Actually," Richie lowered his sight. "I went by the Greyhound station and bought my tickets and then decided to do a little window shopping."
She looked at the bag he had in his hand. "It looks like you bought the window," she said with a chuckle.
"Oh, this," he held up the paper sack. "I actually had this for a long while. It's something Jack gave me when we were still kids, and I've been trying to work up the nerve to walk over to the shop and give it to him."
"You are only a few blocks over," Helen commented. "I could get the car and drive you if you are having trouble walking."
"No," he said with a small bit of alarm. "Actually, it may be a good thing that we ran into each other." He held out the bag to her. "Maybe I should just leave this with you."
Helen eyed the bag carefully.
"Please Helen," he shook it slightly. "He might actually appreciate it if it came from you."
After a few minutes, Helen squared her shoulders and met his eye contact. "No, Richie," she said firmly. "I won't give jack the package when you need to do it yourself."
"Helen," he began to protest.
"No, Richie," she stopped him gently pushing the bag back. "You and I both agreed that you needed to say your own goodbyes this time. Jack will never forgive you if you don't try and see him at least once before you leave."
He lowered the bag to his side. "I don't know if I can do it, Helen."
"Richie," she touched his cheek. "You and Jack have always been stronger than either have ever given yourself credit for. The fact that you both survived Father O'Malley to start with, and that you were able to stand against him and the entire church while your family was fighting you on the subject only proves how very strong you really are."
"That was a long time ago, Helen," Richie sighed. "I've been through allot and I don't have that same fire in me anymore."
"You won't need fire, Richie," she smiled sweetly. "Jack still loves you. That's why he is torn up inside over all of this. He would never tell you, but I know if you do not say goodbye this time, you will break his heart."
The traffic of people and moving cars a few feet away continued to flow as he considered his options while she waited for him to say the words she wanted to hear. "Okay," he said with an exhale breath. "I'll go and say goodbye."
Helen leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Richie."
He nodded a few times and then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope. "Now you need to do me a favor," he said with a look of grief. "I was going to mail this to Jackie when I got to Virginia, but I'm afraid that it might get lost in the mail, so would you give it to him for me?"
She took the small package gingerly. "I don't understand. Don't you want to give it to him yourself?"
"I can only break one heart at a time, Helen," he tried to joke it off with a small giggle. "I don't think I could handle Jackie's disappointment right now. I know he was hoping Jack and I would find a way to work this out, so maybe it's better that he hate me for a little while for leaving without telling him instead of being mad at his father."
After a moment of silence, he leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Take care of my Nephews and nieces for me Helen."
"I will," she returned in kind. "I love you Richie and I know JJ and the kids do too."
Richie gave her one last smile before he turned and walked away.
Jack Pryor and Henry Walker were busy with a new display model when they heard the bell over the shop door ring. With a large grunt as he pulled the television set out of the box Henry was holding, Jack spoke. "We'll be right with you."
After a few short breaths and a minor struggle with the cardboard corners, the two men accomplished their task and the mid size color TV was liberated from it's packaging and placed on top of the nearest floor model.
Jack took a second to regroup and turned to the customer with a smile. "What can we do for you today?" He asked as his face dropped taking in the sight of his brother Richie.
"Hi Jack," Richie attempted a smile.
Henry could tell that this was another one of those tense stand offs, so he chose to collect the parts to the box and it's packaging and walked quietly into the back room.
"Listen." Richie lost his smile looking away. "I know you don't want me here right now, and I am not all that sure I want to be here either, but Helen thought it would be a good idea if we had a face to face before I left again."
"Well there's something new," Jack said with a scowl. "Am I suppose to be happy that you thought enough to say goodbye this time?"
"Jack," Richie raised his hands in a slight surrender mode. "Could we not do this right now. I just wanted to be courteous this time. I don't want a fight."
Leaning on the floor model, Jack nodded his head. "Okay," he agreed. "I can understand that."
Richie watched as his brother became engrossed in thought. "I am sorry we didn't work things out, Jack."
"Me too," Jack looked up. "It might have been nice if we didn't have all this history to deal with."
"We had it good there for a while," Richie smiled as he remembered back. "We were close once Jack."
"Yeah," a smile also crossed his lips. "We were the best of friends back then."
Richie nodded in agreement.
After an awkward minute, Jack looked at his younger brother again. "I miss those kids Richie."
"Me too, Jack," Richie, returned softly. He held out the paper bag with a large oval object inside. "Maybe this will help remind you of some of the good times."
Jack eyed the bag. "What is it?"
"Take it," Richie waved it slightly.
Slowly Jack took the sack and began to unroll the open end. "Oh my goodness," he grinned widely as he saw what was inside.
"So you remember it," Richie grinned back.
Reaching in while dropping the bag on the television, Jack pulled out an old dirty football. "How could I forget this baby," he looked it over carefully. "This was the game ball from our winning game against Cambridge High for a chance at the state tournament. We were down by two points with less than a minute on the clock, and Bill Johnson tossed me the ball after a near fumble, and I was able to carry it over sixty yards for the winning points." His eyes filled with spark. "I swear to this day that I was in complete shock that I simply reacted on reflex and didn't even have a clear idea of what I was doing. All I knew was to catch the ball and run."
"And you made the touchdown and your team went to the state championship," Richie added to the story.
"Where we instantly got our back sides slaughtered," Jack laughed. "We were not ready for the state championship contest."
"But this was the game that mattered," Richie tapped the ball in Jack's hands. "I remember I wanted to see you play that game so bad, but I got real sick that week and could not get out of bed even after trying so hard."
"I remember too," Jack replied. "You were a mess and were rushed to the hospital for a few days."
"That's right," Richie nodded. "You knew I wanted to go but I had to settle to listening to it on my hospital room radio Mom brought me. Then after the game, still wearing your dirty uniform, you showed up in my room with the winning game ball. The nurse almost had a fit when you slipped it under my oxygen tent, but you said I had to have it, and you were right." Richie rubbed his hands across his face. "I spent hours reading and rereading every signature and message you had the team write on the ball for me. That ball kept me company for that hospital stay."
Jack examined the ball again. "The guys wrote some real nice stuff to you," he commented. "They knew I was real worried about you that time."
"My favorite was this one," he pointed to the smudge few lines on the side of the ball near Jack's hands. "It was from you."
Jack turned the ball over and read his message. "To my little brother and the real hero in the Pryor family. Get well. Jackie."
"That was the day I knew you were my hero, Jack," Richie commented. "I knew that you would be by me no matter what happen in our lives. The fact that we had already made it through what I thought would be the worst only helped me to believe that even more."
Jack spun the ball a few times in his hand, and then looked up again. "That was a long time ago, Rich."
"But it could still be true, Jack," Richie said with a hint of despair. "We could get through anything if we wanted. All the bad guys are gone now Jack. Pop can't keep us apart if we don't want to be, and O'Malley is long since buried."
Jack had to turn away. "Pop never told me he knew about O'Malley," he said softly. "He never even told me you went over to his house again that night. We never talked about what he was doing to those children. All Pop told me was that you had made an uproar with the church, and everything about O'Malley's attacks on those little boys I heard in rumors."
"Pop," Richie started. "He wanted me to just leave well enough alone and not turn O'Malley over to the authorities even after I told him what I saw he was doing to those boy again when he came back to Saint Catherine's. I wasn't going to tell him about us, but after I left your house, I needed to clear the air. I mean I would have tried to stop O'Malley regardless of whether or not he had done it to us, but when I knew I was loosing you, I needed to tell Pop everything."
Turning part way around, Jack continued to listen to his brother.
"I think Pop hated me even more for telling him about what O'Malley had done to us," Richie continued with a hurt expression. "He was so sure that the church was right and perfect, that my telling him made him angrier because I forced him to deal with the truth right inside of his own family. But he still held firm and said that I was lying. He said he would not let me spread any more filth, so he ordered me to leave town, or he would tell the police that I had made up the whole story out of some sick reason for attention."
"Why didn't you tell me that?" Jack asked with gritted teeth. "Why didn't you tell me the truth then?"
"Because," a tear rolled down Richie's face. "I didn't want to have you look into Pop's face when he called you a dirty liar like he did me when I told him. My own father said that I was dirty and sick and he didn't believe a word I said about O'Malley. After all, Ted was an alter boy too, so why wasn't he attacked? I didn't understand that then either, but I do now. Ted had no weakness and was the perfect son, but you and I were vulnerable because we only had each other, and he knew we were too needy to risk loosing Pop's affections by telling him about the dirty little things we had been forced to do."
"Pop never told me he knew," Jack said wiping his lips. "He never even brought up O'Malley after you left."
"Pop didn't want to know, Jack," Richie sighed. "He didn't want to believe what he had done to two of his sons, so he didn't choose to believe it. O'Malley was sent away, again, and I was forced out, so no one ever had to deal with the truth."
Jack ran both hands though his hair. He looked at his brother for a good long moment until he lowered his arms again. "I didn't know that O'Malley was doing those things to you, Richie. I swear to God I would have found a way to stop him."
"I know, Jack," Richie wiped away a few tears.
"He promised me," Jack's voice cracked for a minute. "He promised me that if I did what he told me to do, that he would leave you alone."
"Jack," Richie placed a hand on his shoulder as Jack looked away. "He told me the same things. I didn't find out until years latter that he was hurting you too."
The emotion was becoming too much for Jack as he slammed both fist down on the new Television set. "Damn you Richie!" He cursed loudly. "Why would you let yourself be force out of town when I needed you here with me telling me the truth?"
"I'm sorry Jack," Richie stepped back. "I was never the strong person you were and it took everything I had to fight as long as I did. I couldn't fight anymore," he cried. "I couldn't fight Pop anymore."
Jack leaned on the set facing away from him. "Why didn't you come back sooner? If not while Pop was alive, why didn't you come back after he died?"
"I couldn't," Richie started.
"Where were you all this time, Richie?" Jack turned to him with an angry scowl. "You have brought up allot of memories from a pass best left forgotten, but you still haven't said where you have been the last twelve years and why you are back now."
"I wanted to see you, Jack," Richie lowered his head. "I needed to see you."
"Just out of the blue like that?" Jack waved his arm. "Where have you been? What have you been doing with your life since you left? Do you have a family down there in Virginia?"
"I had a wife and son," he answered sheepishly.
"Had?" Jack repeated. "Let me guess. You couldn't handle the pressure and you ran out on them too?"
"No," Richie raised his head defiantly. "It's more like they left me."
Jack threw his head back in disgust. "Oh great," he said callously. "You drove off your own wife and kid and now you come to reclaim my family."
"You don't understand," Richie protested. "It's not like that."
"How did you do it?" Jack leaned in with a sneer. "Was it another woman, or did you hit the bottle a little too hard?"
"Jack," Richie stopped trying to be the aggressor. "You don't understand, and this is not about my family. I wanted to connect with my brother for a while. I didn't have an ulterior motive, I swear."
Picking the football off the television, Jack slammed it into his brother's chest that swaggered a few steps back from the force. "Take your ball and get out of my shop, Richie. Me and my family are not for sale."
"Jack!" Richie protested. "I don't want the ball back. It was the only thing Pop let me take from my old room when I left, and I wanted you to have a chance to pass it on to your kids. Maybe Will could see how much you were a hero in my eyes as Jackie is in his."
"I don't want the ball, Richie," Jack snapped back. "Give it you're your own son along with all you false commitment to the family unit. I am done with you and the past."
Richie held up the ball and stared at it. "I can't give it to Robbie because,"
"Oh right," Jack cut him off. "Because he and his Mom figured you out to be the dead beat that you are and took off. Well I'm sorry Richie, but welcome to my world and what I have had to deal with since the day you left my life twelve years ago."
"Jack," Richie held out the ball.
"Get out," Jack snarled. "Get out of my store and get out of my life. I never want to see you ever again."
Richie stood frozen for a moment as if transfixed by his brother's steel cold eyes watching him with a rage he had not seen since the night his father had ordered him to leave town for "the good of the family." He slowly began to pull himself together and lowered the ball placing it on the television top. He pulled his hand away and looked at jack again.
"You keep it," he said softly trying to show as little emotion as possible. "The person who gave it to me isn't around any more."
Jack watched as his brother turned away slowly and walked towards the door. His steps were slow and labored and his stride was more of a shifting from side to side, but Jack tried not to let this pitiful sight affect him as Richie opened the door. He took one last look back at his brother.
"Jack," he spoke with careful and short words pass his grief. "If you ever look into the mirror one day and see whatever might be left of my brother Jackie in there somewhere, could you tell him that I miss him." A tear rolled down his cheek. "Tell him wherever he is, that I still love him."
Jack stood silent not showing any signs of feelings towards his brother who he had once cherished and protected. He watched as Richie walked out of the door and from his sight for what would be the last time.
To Be Continued:
Authors Note: Hey Gang, no reviews to answer this time, but as promised, I am trying to get this story out as soon as possible (while FF.net will allow.) So please enjoy and drop me a note to let me know what you think.
Best Wishes and God Bless
Phaze