Patrick was waiting for his wife at the bottom of the stairs. Shelagh walked into the loving arms of her husband. "Is she okay?" He asked.
"She's putting her things away." Shelagh laid her head on his chest. "I told her, Patrick, I believe God brought her into our lives for a reason. And I think it's for the same reason he gave us Angela and Edward. To love on them."
Patrick kissed her on the head. "What makes you say so?"
Shelagh sighed. "She was running away."
"From home?"
"I think so, yes."
Patrick pulled his wife closer. "Well, we'll just have to show her what a real family is like."
"But what will we tell the Sisters? And the rest of Poplar?" Shelagh fretted.
"Let's not think about that, now." He said, holding her hand and leading her back to the living room. "Tonight, let's just begin by making her feel part of this family."
Emma walked down the stairs. She could hear laughing voices in the lounge. The sound made her smile. It had been awhile since she's felt this relaxed. It surprised her that she felt this at ease already.
She walked into the room, a little surprised to see Timothy laughing with his parents. Was he not in trouble still?
Shelagh's smile broadened when she spotted Emma. "Hello, dear. I was just preparing to go. Why don't you come with me? We'll pick Angela up and head around the corner, to get some fish and chips."
"Isn't Timothy coming with us?"
Patrick shook his head. "He and I need to have a conversation."
Emma looked at her friend and grimaced. "Don't be too angry, please. He was only trying to help me."
"The conversation will be between him and I." Patrick said. "But you don't need to worry." He smiled. "I'm sympathetic to his reasons."
Shelagh stood up. "Let's get ready, then. We don't want to be late picking up the little one."
Emma followed her into the hallway.
"Why don't you wear one of my coats?" Shelagh suggested, looking at Emma's coat. "Yours might not be warm enough."
Emma blushed, but accepted the woman's coat. She smiled, it smelled like her. She turned away as she frowned. Don't get too attached, she thought too herself. You don't know how long this will last.
She followed the other woman out of the door.
Patrick and Timothy waved goodbye, as the other two left the house.
Timothy swallowed. He knew what was coming next. And indeed, his father rested his hand on Timothy's shoulder. "Come on, son. It's time for our talk. Let's go to your room."
Patrick held his arm around his son, the whole way up. He wanted Tim to be sure they still loved him, even though he was about to be spanked.
Patrick sat down on Timothy's bed. His son stood in front of him.
"Why are you getting this spanking?" Patrick asked.
"I know I shouldn't have kept secrets from you, but you like Emma. Aren't you happy I brought her home?"
"You're right, I do like Emma. And I'm very happy you brought her home. But this isn't about her. This is about you, skipping school." Patrick sighed. "I understand you did it for the noblest of reasons, but skipping school is never a good idea. Your education is important to your mother and I. We want you to succeed in live, and the best way to do that is through a good education."
Timothy nodded. "I know."
"That's why you're getting this spanking." Patrick continued. "For skipping school. Not for helping Emma." He smiled. "I'm proud of you, son."
Timothy looked up, shocked.
Patrick smiled. "I am proud of you for helping Emma the way you did. It shows the kind of man you are becoming."
Timothy blushed.
Patrick smiled, but nodded. He didn't want to embarrass his son any longer. He scooted back on the bed and rolled up his sleeves. "Come here, son."
Timothy swallowed before standing on the right side of his father. He undid his zip and pushed his trousers to the floor. He pushed himself up over his father's legs. He shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. One hand held onto his father's leg, the other was balanced on the floor.
Patrick pushed Timothy's boxers down. He rubbed a few comforting circles on his son's back. He knew how nervous his son could get, waiting for a spanking.
Patrick held back a sigh as he raised his hand, and let it fell in the centre of Timothy's bottom. He didn't wait long before letting his hand fall a second time, and then a third.
Timothy yelped. No matter how many spankings he has been given, the first smack always took him by surprise.
Patrick settled into a steady rhythm. He didn't spoke as he spanked. They both knew the reasons for this spanking. Nothing more needed to be said.
Timothy started to fully cry, tears running down his cheeks. And he went limp, fully accepting the punishment.
Patrick couldn't continue. His son's actions had been noble. It hadn't been the worst spanking he had ever given his son, but he just couldn't continue. He didn't want to drag it on. He wanted him to remember this day with proudness, not with embarrassment. With one last final swat, he rested his hand on his son's backside. He started rubbing circles on Timothy's back, whispering soothing words. "It's alright, son. Let it out. We love you."