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High school opened a few doors. His athletic abilities brought him a baseball scholarship and he planned to use it to explore outside Pasadena and LA and get away from home for a while. He would stay in California, but decided to attend a school that was far enough away to escape.

Charlie was crushed. He sat on Don's bed while their mother fussed over Don and his suitcase. Dad stood in the doorway, arms crossed, a small smile on his lips.

"One duffle bag. Honey, you definitely need more than that." Mom frowned at the pile of clothing next to Charlie on the bed.

"Maggie, if it was up to you, you'd send his whole room with him," Dad teased. "And there's no way it's all fitting in the car. Not if you plan on sitting in it, at least."

She waved her hand. "Well, he certainly needs more than a duffle bag, Alan. What kind of mother would I be if I sent him off into the world unprepared?" She started picking up clothing and refolding it.

"Off into the world? You make it sound like I'm going half-way across the globe instead of northern California," Don complained. "And I don't need more, Mom. I can take care of myself, you know."

She stopped and set down a half-folded T-Shirt. "I know. But I worry."

He gave her a smile. "You don't need to."

"It's a parent's job to worry," his father put in. "You can't stop us no matter how old the two of you get."

"Do you have to leave?"

Don almost jumped. Until this point Charlie had been silent.

"I do. Besides, you and Mom are going to Princeton in a couple of weeks. So you'll be gone, too. Dad'll be left to fend for himself."

"Oh, how will I survive?" Dad mocked.

Charlie didn't even crack a smile. "What if I don't want to go to Princeton? What if I stay here and you stay, too. Then Dad won't have to cook."

"Dad's a good cook," Don pointed out. "And Princeton is a good place for you. You get to rub elbows with those just as smart as you are."

"New Jersey's far," Charlie commented.

"Not that far," Don pointed out. Charlie needed this. He needed this. He needed to get away from home, overachievement, and Charlie's sad eyes. The only thing setting him apart from his brother right now was baseball and Don intended to explore that possibility to the furthest extent he could.

"It's a different ocean. And it's cold in New Jersey."

"Not all the time," Don countered. "You'll be fine." He looked up at his parents. "Right?"

He watched his parents exchange a glance and for a split second he saw worry in their eyes. A much deeper worry than the fuss her mother was making over his leaving. Mom smiled and nodded and Dad stepped into the room to ruffle Charlie's hair.

Don dumped another sweater into his duffle bag. In forty-eight hours he'd be out of LA and on his own.

--

College was a blast. No rules, no parents, the option of eating ice cream for breakfast if he really wanted to. Sure, there were a few drawbacks, like doing your own laundry, but after he dyed the first load pink, he sorted it out. And he refused to call Mom when it happened because she'd only use it a reason he should come home.

He called home once a week, or tried to, at least. Spoke to Dad, then hung up and dialed New Jersey and spoke to Mom and Charlie. Most calls were short, things sounded fine. Though some calls were harder to read.

"How's Princeton?" he asked mom a few weeks after she and Charlie were settled in an apartment near campus.

"It's very pretty," she told him. "The leaves are changing color. I've been living in California so long that I forgot what that looked like." Don could just hear a smile in her voice.

"Charlie likes classes?"

"He's...adjusting. We've only been here three weeks." He could sense the uncertainty in her voice and wondered if he should press the matter. But it might turn into a long conversation and he wasn't sure he wanted that right now.

He settled for a topic change. "And you? How are you spending your days? You must miss dad. I know he misses you."

"I do miss him. And you," she answered. "But I've started a new job. It fills the day when Charlie's on campus. It's only part-time, of course-"

"Wait. You got a job?" he asked, interrupted. As long as he could remember, his mother had never worked.

"Yes, I got a job. Why is that so surprising?" She sighed. "You sound like your father."

"But, Mom, you've never worked."

"Never? Don, I did have a life before you and Charlie came along. In fact, I even worked briefly when you were old enough to go to pre-school. It was when Charlie came that I stopped completely."

"You worked? I don't remember that..."

"You were very young. And you liked going to the childcare center. You liked all the kids. Why I think you made six new friends that first day. You were never one to shy away. Now, Charlie..." she trailed off. "Anyway, I am working part-time as a receptionist at a doctor's office. Passes the time, earns some money."

Don frowned at the word money. "Money? Do you and Dad-"

"Our finances are just fine, Donnie, and even if they weren't, it is none of your business." There was a heavy air to her tone.

Don knew she was lying. He'd heard hushed arguments between his parents right before he left. Though Charlie had a scholarship and Princeton wasn't costing a dime, renting an apartment in New Jersey cost money. Flying back and forth between New Jersey and California cost money. And lots of money had already been spent on Charlie's tutors prior to college. So Don knew the baseball scholarship was important and got his own part-time job the moment he stepped on campus. He didn't want to ask for his parents' help. They had too much else to worry about. They had Charlie.

The conversation ended and Don held the phone in his hand, thinking. Then a friend popped his head in and the phone was returned to its cradle. Don made a mental note to call again in a few days.

Two weeks passed before he thought of it again.

--

Two semesters down, six more to go. Don had survived freshmen year, and more importantly, survived his freshmen college baseball season. He'd impressed the coach - he'd even made a mention or two about minor league opportunities. Don knew his parents wanted him to finish college, so he filed the information away. Besides, he needed to step up his performance if he ever hoped to make it.

He had busted his hump working in between practices, saving his money toward the ultimate goal: a car.

Of course, it was used and not all that new, but Don got a great deal and did his homework. He knew exactly what he was getting. It was his father that was surprised.

"Your mother and Charlie are coming back on the twenty-fifth," Dad told him.

Don shifted the phone as he tossed the contents of his dorm room back into the bags they came in. "Okay. I'll be home on the twenty-seventh."

"The twenty-seventh? Donnie, I can't pick you up on the twenty-seventh."

"I don't need you to pick me up. And Dad, it's Don. I'm not four anymore."

"What do you mean you don't need me to pick you up? And you let your mother call you Donnie. Why can't I?"

"Mom is different," he explained. And she was. Besides, he knew no matter how many times he told her not to, she'd do it anyway. His father had a better chance of actually listening.

"I'm your father. That gives me the right to call you Donnie if I want to. Now, again, what do you mean you don't need me to pick you up? Did you find another ride?"

He picked up and sniffed a T-shirt. Oh, yeah, that was going into the dirty pile. He'd need to do another load before he left. Maybe tonight. "Sorta. I bought a car, Dad."

"You what? Bought a car? Without me?"

"Yes, Dad, without you. I can do things on my own. I've been doing it for some time."

"I would have helped." Dad's tone sounded slightly hurt, and Don sighed and forgot about packing.

"I know. It's just both you and mom have other things on your mind. I mean, Charlie-"

"I have two sons, Donnie." There was silence for a moment. "We - your mother and I - we don't mean to-"

"You don't need to say it, Dad," Don said, interrupting. He could imagine his Dad pacing back and forth across the living room. They never discussed this and Don didn't want to do it on the phone. "Charlie takes a lot of time. He needs help. I don't really need help anymore."

He could picture his father stopping in his tracks. "But you do, you just don't realize it."

Don got up and opened a drawer full of even more clothing to pack. He didn't remember coming to school with so many clothes and he most certainly didn't want this conversation to happen. "I do just fine, Dad. Really. And it's a decent car. You'll see. I'll take you for a joy ride when I get home."

Dad sighed and Don knew the subject was dropped. "All right, Don. The twenty-seventh?"

"Yep. The twenty-seventh."

"Good. We'll all see you then."

Don listened to the click, hung up the phone, and went back to packing.

--

He drove home, showed off the "new" car, hugged his mother. Charlie eagerly dragged his stuff out of the car and into the house. He wanted know all about Don's semester at college.

"College is fun," Don said with a smile and ruffled Charlie's hair. "But what about you? You blowing 'em out of the water like you always do?"

Charlie's face fell. "Ah, yeah," he said, his tone subdued.

Don looked and locked eyes with his mother. She shook her head. Don frowned.

"It'll get better next year," he told Charlie, but Charlie shook his head.

"No, it won't," Charlie said matter-of-factly.

"We're going to try CalSci in the fall," Mom admitted. "I don't think Charlie or I liked Princeton much. Charlie was right, it's too far."

"Dad must be happy," Don mused.

He watched his mother shoot an uncertain glance in towards the kitchen, where Don knew his father was starting dinner. She gave him a somewhat forced smile.

"He's thrilled."