Chapter 17

"Tim!" As soon as he stepped in the door, Sarah grabbed him and hugged him tightly.

"Sarah, it's okay. Everything's fine."

"No, it's not. You probably didn't sleep a wink last night, did you?"

"No. But Sarah, it's okay. Really." Tim pulled away from her and took out his phone.

"Hello?"

"Oh, hi Andrew. Is Mom there?" Tim looked at Sarah. She was still angry with him, but she sat next to him on the bed and waited to hear what he needed to say.

"Hi, Tim. How are you doing?"

"Okay."

"She's here. I'll get her."

"Thanks." Tim waited. He and Andrew had always got along well. He had understood right from the start that he couldn't replace Tim's dad, and so he had never tried. That had allowed Tim to accept him as a mentor and later as a friend, and Sarah had been able to have a father figure in her life while she was growing up.

"Yes, Tim? What is it?"

"Mom, I-I..." Tim trailed off, not sure how to say it.

"What, Tim?"

"I heard what the police said." The words came out in a rush.

"Police? When?"

"After Dad died. I heard them talking to you."

He heard a gasp. "Oh, Tim. You mean when they said--"

He finished for her, "–when they told you what time Dad died, that I was home."

"Oh, Tim. I had no idea. Why didn't you say something?"

"I-I saw your face, and I couldn't stand knowing. I could have–" Tim couldn't continue and felt the tears starting again. Sarah held his free hand tightly.

There was a long silence and Tim was tense as he waited for his mom to speak. Finally, she sighed but he heard the love in her voice as she said firmly, "Yes, maybe you could have, but you didn't. And I say that without malice. We all lost someone we loved that day, Tim. I can't blame you for acting like a teenager. There was nothing you could have done. We don't know why your dad decided to commit suicide. We never will, and that's kept us all from healing completely. For you, more than me, it's been like a festering wound. I've always hoped that you would be able to work through it, but I knew I couldn't do it for you. I love you, Tim. You did nothing wrong that day," she laughed a little, "bar disobeying your mother. More than that, your father certainly would not blame you and he wouldn't want you to blame yourself either."

Tim was crying again, the tears sliding silently down his cheeks. "I miss him, Mom. Even now. Why did he do it?"

"I don't know, Tim. I miss him, too. It's okay to miss him, but you need to stop blaming yourself. Try to sleep tonight, Timothy."

"I'll try. I love you, Mom. Good night."

"Good night."

Tim disconnected and dropped the phone to the floor. He held his head in his hands and cried. Sarah put her arm around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Tim?"

"What, Sarah?"

"Tell me."

Tim sniffed as he tried to stop the tears. "Tell you what?"

"Tell me something about Dad. I don't have many memories of him, you know. No fair you getting all the goods and leaving me high and dry." She said it lightly, but she was serious.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Something happy. There's been too much of everything else."

Tim thought a moment and a mischievous grin spread across his face. He said, "Did you know that Dad liked to juggle?"

Sarah sat up and faced Tim. She pushed him over. "He did not, you liar."

"I swear. We went to the circus once and he decided that he'd teach himself how to juggle, just like the clowns." Tim grinned again. "And while we were there, we picked you up as well."

Sarah grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. Tim caught it easily and threw it back. A furious pillow fight ensued. They eventually declared a truce and ordered pizza. As they ate, Sarah kept looking at Tim, but she didn't say anything. He knew she was still worried. To be honest, he was too. Knowing what caused the nightmares didn't stop them from happening.

As he lay down, Tim looked at the clock. How long would he last?

"Don't think about it, Tim. You'll only make it worse."

"I know, but that doesn't make it easier to forget."

"Just close your eyes and think about Dad juggling."

In spite of himself, Tim laughed softly, "That's not exactly sleep-inducing."

"Neither are your nightmares, Tim."

Tim's smile faded. "I know."

"Close your eyes and sleep."

Tim obeyed, and he did sleep more that night. However, three times he woke up in a blind panic. The only improvements were that he didn't throw up and he didn't scream, well not loudly anyway. The terror was still there. All the logic in the world couldn't suppress the trauma of the last fifteen years.

The next morning, Sarah was solemn as they both got ready for their day. "Tim..."

He shook his head and smiled and, with a conviction he still didn't feel, said, "Sarah, it's going to take time. My subconscious is still thirteen years old."

"I just... I hate this. I hate seeing what it does to you."

Tim looked at his watch and didn't answer. It was time to leave. Together they walked out the door and got in Tim's car. The ride was silent, but as he pulled up to campus, Tim looked at his sister and said, "I hate it, too, Sarah. But I have to believe that everything will work out, eventually. I'll see you later."

"Eventually. Bye, Tim."