Chapter 14

"So...uh... who's going to speak first?" Tony asked.

"That depends," Tim said. "Are you going to actually say anything? Or are you just going to talk?"

Tony winced. Because Tim generally didn't go that route, he always forgot how piercing Tim's words could be when he wanted them to be.

And then, Tim surprised him. He sighed and idly pulled up some grass.

"But I'm sorry."

"What for?"

Tim finally looked at him. "If you don't want to really be friends, Tony, then, I don't have any right to be upset that you didn't tell me anything."

"Tim."

"No, really. You seem completely focused on me having a problem. I don't have any real problems right now, nothing for you to worry about. So if it's not that, then, it's none of my concern. I don't have any right to be upset if you don't really think of me as a friend."

"Tim, no. That's not what..."

Tim didn't let him finish. "Then, what is it, Tony? What you're doing is not friendship. It's not family. It's someone protecting a weak person who can't take care of himself. So you tell me. What is it?"

Tony could see that he'd have to talk more than he usually liked to about his own problems.

"Tim... I... I guess I just don't really know exactly what family is supposed to be like."

He glanced over and saw Tim looking at him skeptically. He took a breath and looked back at the grass, feeling uncomfortable, not wanting to get into this.

"You know... You said I was family and I loved the idea, but when it comes to the practical stuff... I grew up being used to not talking about it, since no one would be listening, not really having anything like that. What I saw on TV was what I wanted, but I didn't know how they managed to get it."

"Well, you're missing the mark so far," Tim said.

Tony grimaced. "Yeah, I'm starting to see that."

"Then, why don't you just tell me. Instead of avoiding it, just tell me now."

"You sure you want to hear it?"

"Yes."

That was all. Just the one word. Nothing else and no way Tony could try to parse his way out of it by analyzing the argument. Just one word, requiring more. Tony didn't really know how to start, but finally, with the silence lengthening, he knew he had to start somewhere.

"I should have listened to Jo in the first place," he said. "She told me I should have said something to you, that you would hate it that I didn't say anything, but I decided that it wasn't a big deal and so I didn't need to tell anyone. She only knew because we're in the same house and I couldn't exactly leave for the funeral without telling her where I was going. But it wasn't a big deal and I didn't need to saying anything to anyone else. It wasn't a big deal."

He stopped and the silence fell again. This time, Tim broke it...with a single word.

"But?"

Tony sighed as the irritatingly honest part of his brain forced the thought to the fore.

"But it is a big deal," he said, admitting it out loud for the first time. "It ticks me off that it's such a big deal, but it is."

Tim reached out and squeezed his shoulder but said nothing this time. Tony wished he would, but he didn't.

So he kept talking.

"It's not like my dad was really much of a dad at all. He was barely around. I mean... he forgot me! He left me behind in a hotel room because he wasn't enough of a dad to remember I was there," Tony said, almost angrily. "I shouldn't care that he's dead. He was so not a dad that he might as well have been dead years ago. It would have made that little difference as far as his involvement in my life. It shouldn't matter."

"But it does," Tim said softly.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I don't know... because..." Tony sat there for a bit, hoping Tim would say something that would interrupt what he was talking about.

Tim said nothing.

"...because if he had actually acted like my dad for any real length of time, it would have been enough for me. I mean, he wasn't abusive. He wasn't mean. He just wasn't a dad, but having him dead means that can't ever happen. I never got a chance to have my dad be a real dad. And that sucks."

Tim still said nothing and that goaded Tony to keep talking.

"And now, my family is dead and that sucks, too. It's not even that they're dead so much as it means that, technically, I'm an orphan. And I know that sounds stupid since I'm in my forties, but it matters."

"Yeah, it does," Tim said, his voice soft.

Tony almost didn't even notice it.

"But I've been trying to make it not matter. Nothing was going to matter. Lots of people have crappy families. I wasn't going to let it bother me. I was going to set it aside and not think about it because it shouldn't matter. ...but then, every time I saw you with Tommy..." Tony smiled and looked at Tim. "...I'd see you as this amazing, wonderful dad and wonder why I couldn't have had a dad like you."

Tim actually reddened slightly at the compliment and shook his head.

"I'm far from perfect, Tony. We both know that I have more than my share of issues."

"That doesn't matter. You love Tommy and you love being around him. Even more...he loves being around you. My dad loved the next big deal."

Another silence. Well, it was silent as far as they were concerned. There were actually a lot of people walking around. In fact, this was far from as private as serious conversations usually were. However, no one really appeared to be paying attention to them. So that was something. They were just two guys sitting in a park.

...having a serious conversation that one of them at least was not enjoying.

Again, Tony felt like he had to say something more.

"And now, I'm a dad...and I'm terrified that I'm going to end up being the same kind of father as my dad was...because I never got to have him give me an example of what I should do...only what I shouldn't."

"You're a good dad, Tony," Tim said. "Grace and Daniel love you, whether they say it or not. Sam will love you when he's old enough to acknowledge it. If you guys ever get Ivan, he'll love you, too. Because you care. Maybe you're not finessed, but you care and they know it. That's what matters."

Another silence, but finally Tim asked a question.

"How did he die?"

"An aneurysm, they said. He was talking one minute and the next, he was dead. Do you know what the worst part of it was?"

"What?"

"It took them two days to find me because Dad didn't have anything indicating any family. Nothing. I can't even pretend that he was just distant...unless he was distant enough to be on a different planet. It really makes me mad...and it's depressing, too."

Again, the silence.

Then, Tim shook Tony's shoulder just a little.

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't start that again," Tony said, grimacing.

"No. I'm sorry that your dad died. I'm sorry that you didn't get the family you really wanted. I'm sorry that you're the only one left of your family. I'm sorry that this is all so complicated that you can't even decide whether to be angry or to be grieving. And I'm really sorry that you wouldn't let anyone know."

"Can't change any of it," Tony said, shrugging, trying to push it all to the side.

Tim shook his head. "That's not the point. As you've told me more than once, you can't change the past. But you can't get beyond the past by ignoring it or pretending it doesn't matter. It matters, Tony, and it's wrong for you to keep trying to act like it's not a big deal or that you can mention it once and that's enough. I'm not saying you have to be talking about it constantly or anything, but you don't always have to be the tough guy. And one more thing..."

"Yeah?" Tony was almost afraid to hear it.

"Stop thinking that I always need protecting. Honestly, Tony...sometimes, I can't figure out if you want to be friends or if it's some kind of obligation you feel."

"It's not."

"And I believe you, but when all you seem to think about is whether or not I can handle it, it's hard to accept it. If you need help, you need help. And help doesn't necessarily mean an imminent meltdown. I still go to a shrink regularly. It's not because I'm constantly on the verge of falling apart." Tim actually smiled. "It's preventative care, so I don't have to be on the verge of falling apart. Please, Tony, let me be on equal footing. Let us be friends."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that when something in your life sucks, you let me at least try to help you, even if it's just like this. Me sitting here, listening. I wasn't wanting you to tell me so I could change anything. I wanted you to tell me so you wouldn't have to deal with it alone."

Tony looked down at Tim's shoes again. "Aren't you busy enough?"

Tim laughed. "Okay, Tony. You say that you don't know what family is like? Here's lesson 101 on family: you're never too busy for family. Never. And you already know that, but you don't seem willing to apply it to yourself."

"I do?"

"Yes. You showed up when all I did was text you in the middle of the night asking you to come. I could have said more than that. I probably should have. I could have actually called you, but I knew that all I would have to do was ask and you'd be there. That's family. I can't replace the family you've lost or the family you never had, but you have a family now. It's just not one related by blood."

Tony was surprised at how much hearing those words out loud meant to him. In fact, it made his throat tighten embarrassingly. He definitely wasn't going to look up right now. He didn't cry, not ever. That wasn't what he did.

Then, Tim said something else.

"Tony, I've really appreciated having you as a friend, but I need to know that you feel the same way, that you actually like us being friends. I don't want to deal with having to wonder whether or not this is just a feeling of obligation."

"It's not," Tony said, instantly, although his voice was softer than he usually spoke. He was still a little choked up from what Tim had already said. "Maybe the first time, but not after that."

"I don't blame you for feeling obligated the first time. I don't even blame you for the fifth time."

"It wasn't obligation the fifth time."

"I'll admit that I'm more than a little skeptical about that," Tim said.

That forced Tony to look up, and he didn't know exactly what his expression was because Tim's expression changed when he saw Tony's face.

"No," Tony said. "I did it because you needed it and... it's like you said. That's what family does. If it was obligation, it was like you helping Sarah."

There was a moment of silence and then it was Tim's turn to look away.

"So...do you want to keep talking about it right now?" he asked.

"Not particularly," Tony said, smiling a little.

"Okay. How were the whales?"

"No shows. What did you do?"

"I walked over a causeway to an island and almost got stuck there when the tide came back in. My shoes and socks got soaked."

Tony laughed. "Man... we really can't be trusted alone, can we."

Tim laughed, too.

"Guess we'll just have to stick together, then."

"Guess so. Your shoes dry?"

"Probably pretty close."

"Well, it's early in the evening or late in the afternoon," Tony said. "What now?"

"Today kind of fizzled out, didn't it," Tim said. "That was my fault. Sorry."

"No, it's not. It's mine, too," Tony said. "Ultimately, it's more my fault than yours."

"Doesn't really matter. Today still fizzled. And it started off so well, too."

"Yeah."

Tony really did regret it, but he didn't know what to do to fix it, either. Not this time. He was about to say that they'd just have to come back up here another time.

...but then, Tim got that look on his face. The one that said he'd thought of something.

"What's up?" he asked.

"You know, Tony..."

"Do I?"

Tim smiled a little. "You know... if we rush back down to Boston tomorrow, that will mean that my in-laws only had Tommy for one full day."

"Yeah?" Tony asked, starting to get it.

"What if we just pushed things off by a day?"

"Stay here one more day?"

"You said you got a raincheck on the whale-watching thing. I don't know if my ticket would count since I didn't get on the boat, but we could maybe see a couple other things today and then get our lobster dinner. Then, tomorrow, see other things, try again with the whales if there's space on the tour, and we could get a head start on going back to Boston. We're going on the interstate anyway going down. That'll be faster."

Tony thought about it. He liked the idea of getting a start on wiping out this rather negative afternoon by trying to recoup their lost time.

"Only one problem, Probie."

"What's that?" Tim asked.

"We'll have to tell our families."

Tim actually smiled. "After this afternoon, that ought to be pretty easy. And we don't have to take a really long time going back down, especially if we head back toward Boston tomorrow afternoon. We were never going to try and keep going tomorrow anyway."

Tony thought about it a little more, and he didn't want to leave Acadia feeling like the trip was ruined because of what he'd done...or not done.

"Okay. Let's do it. If your shoes are dry, put them on and let's get to the car. We'll see what's close enough to go and see today."

"Okay."

Tim put on his shoes and they walked back to the car.