Frank threw his fork on the table, ignoring it as it bounced and flipped off onto the floor. "That went well," Frank said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "'I don't know for sure what I did to make you feel unloved or to make you think you were a burden,'" Frank mocked his father, repeating the lame words he had used.
Fenton leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Hearing his own words thrown back at him, he lost all hope. Had he really been so shallow? "Oh God," he moaned.
Frank shook his head in disgust and got up. He left the kitchen without a word. "Where's Joe?" Frank demanded of Pierce when he entered the living room.
"Can't you people do anything right?" Pierce growled.
"Where is he?" Frank asked again, ignoring the question which required an obvious NO.
"He went out the front door," Pierce told him. "He said he was going to the garage."
"Thanks," Frank said, heading for the door and not bothering to put on a coat. When Frank reached the garage, he saw Joe leaning against the van. He was holding something in his hands which made Frank quicken his pace.
"Joe, no," Frank begged, seeing the barrel of the gun Pierce had held on him.
Joe looked up at Frank. "Go back inside," Joe told him, looking back down at the item in his hands.
Frank came closer and saw with some relief that the weapon Joe held had been disassembled. "Dad hid it," Frank said. "The kids couldn't get to it out here. You didn't need to take it apart."
"I didn't," Joe told him, his voice soft and his thoughts elsewhere.
"Joe," Frank came closer. "You're wrong. You were wrong then and you're wrong now."
"What else is new?" Joe asked bitterly, not looking at him.
"Joe," Frank's voice was pleading. "I miss you."
Joe did not respond. It seemed to Frank like Joe hadn't even heard him so he came closer, stopping mere inches from his brother. "I love you," Frank told him. "I have never stopped loving you. I've never stopped needing you."
"Need me?" Joe demanded, finally looking at him. "What for? To rescue from kidnappers? To pull from burning barns or keep from being beat to a pulp? You don't need me. You never have."
"That's not true!" Frank denied. "Without you I would have been the world's biggest geek. You kept me from taking myself too seriously. You made me go out and experience life when I would have just curled up with a book. Whenever I felt depressed or was about to give up hope, you were there with a smile, a joke, or just a hug to let me know everything was going to be alright.
"I know I hurt you when I doubted you. Me and my logic," he said in self-disgust. "Something else I need you for. Logic doesn't always work." Joe started to speak but Frank continued on. "No, I am not asking or even begging for your forgiveness because even if you gave it, I couldn't accept it. What I am asking you for is another chance. I don't deserve that either but if you will let me, I promise I will never let you down again. Please? If you won't let me be your brother at least let me try to be your friend?"
"Why?" Joe asked, his voice calm. "Why do you keep trying? What more could I have done to get you to leave me alone?"
"The only way I would ever leave you alone would be if that were the only way to make you happy," Frank told him, crying. "You can do and say anything but unless my not being around is in your best interest, then I'm not going anywhere even if I have to camp out in the snow on the highway."
Joe looked into Frank's earnest brown eyes, his own blue ones searching any sign of duplicity. Joe turned around and laid the weapon parts on top of the van. Lies. Someone else's at that, Joe thought. They took so much away from me. And I helped them with my own insecurities. Joe heard a sigh from behind him. Not one of defeat, but one born of frustration. He turned back around.
"I have friends," Joe told him, a tear slipping down his cheek. "But I could use a brother."
Fenton leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Hearing his own words thrown back at him, he lost all hope. Had he really been so shallow? "Oh God," he moaned.
Frank shook his head in disgust and got up. He left the kitchen without a word. "Where's Joe?" Frank demanded of Pierce when he entered the living room.
"Can't you people do anything right?" Pierce growled.
"Where is he?" Frank asked again, ignoring the question which required an obvious NO.
"He went out the front door," Pierce told him. "He said he was going to the garage."
"Thanks," Frank said, heading for the door and not bothering to put on a coat. When Frank reached the garage, he saw Joe leaning against the van. He was holding something in his hands which made Frank quicken his pace.
"Joe, no," Frank begged, seeing the barrel of the gun Pierce had held on him.
Joe looked up at Frank. "Go back inside," Joe told him, looking back down at the item in his hands.
Frank came closer and saw with some relief that the weapon Joe held had been disassembled. "Dad hid it," Frank said. "The kids couldn't get to it out here. You didn't need to take it apart."
"I didn't," Joe told him, his voice soft and his thoughts elsewhere.
"Joe," Frank came closer. "You're wrong. You were wrong then and you're wrong now."
"What else is new?" Joe asked bitterly, not looking at him.
"Joe," Frank's voice was pleading. "I miss you."
Joe did not respond. It seemed to Frank like Joe hadn't even heard him so he came closer, stopping mere inches from his brother. "I love you," Frank told him. "I have never stopped loving you. I've never stopped needing you."
"Need me?" Joe demanded, finally looking at him. "What for? To rescue from kidnappers? To pull from burning barns or keep from being beat to a pulp? You don't need me. You never have."
"That's not true!" Frank denied. "Without you I would have been the world's biggest geek. You kept me from taking myself too seriously. You made me go out and experience life when I would have just curled up with a book. Whenever I felt depressed or was about to give up hope, you were there with a smile, a joke, or just a hug to let me know everything was going to be alright.
"I know I hurt you when I doubted you. Me and my logic," he said in self-disgust. "Something else I need you for. Logic doesn't always work." Joe started to speak but Frank continued on. "No, I am not asking or even begging for your forgiveness because even if you gave it, I couldn't accept it. What I am asking you for is another chance. I don't deserve that either but if you will let me, I promise I will never let you down again. Please? If you won't let me be your brother at least let me try to be your friend?"
"Why?" Joe asked, his voice calm. "Why do you keep trying? What more could I have done to get you to leave me alone?"
"The only way I would ever leave you alone would be if that were the only way to make you happy," Frank told him, crying. "You can do and say anything but unless my not being around is in your best interest, then I'm not going anywhere even if I have to camp out in the snow on the highway."
Joe looked into Frank's earnest brown eyes, his own blue ones searching any sign of duplicity. Joe turned around and laid the weapon parts on top of the van. Lies. Someone else's at that, Joe thought. They took so much away from me. And I helped them with my own insecurities. Joe heard a sigh from behind him. Not one of defeat, but one born of frustration. He turned back around.
"I have friends," Joe told him, a tear slipping down his cheek. "But I could use a brother."