Note: Many thanks to Elana.S for beta-ing the last chapter, this one, and a few others in the wings. :)
Years.
Matt didn't return home until two weeks later. He'd called every night when he could to talk to Jo and to say goodnight to his children. Andie didn't realize how much she missed her father until he was no longer there to talk to. But his calls were something to look forward to for other reasons as well. Every time he called he was in some place different. Andie loved to watch the backgrounds, seeing new places and people and aliens. There weren't very many aliens on Mindoir, so to see her father calling from a shuttle, sitting right next to a volus was exciting.
"Dealing with the will is going to take longer than we initially thought to get through," Matt explained in a tired voice over the vid. "I might be here another week." Andie thought her father looked ill. He was pale underneath his Mindoir tan and there were dark smudges under his eyes. "The good news is that we did find Andrew."
Jo perked up. "Oh, that's great, honey! Is he… how is he?"
"Better than both Essie and I feared. He's… cleaned up his life a lot, been going to therapy and rehab. He's even met someone. Her name is Merta Vatius." His tired face split into a grin. "She's turian. Both Essie and I like her a lot. She seems to be a stabilizing influence in his life, which is what he needs. He sends apologies for not keeping in touch, but hopes to make a trip out to Mindoir soon, especially to see his namesake."
"That's you, sweetie," Jo said, nudging Andie with her elbow.
"Me?" Andie blinked in surprise. "I'm named after… Uncle Andrew?" It felt weird to say it, since she didn't even know what this uncle looked like. She hadn't even known he'd existed until a few days ago. It hit her then, what her father had been saying. Her uncle had been in therapy and rehab. That meant… drugs. She felt a shiver of revulsion, recalling the grotesque pictures her class had been subjected to in class about the effects of various drugs on the human body. Uncle Andrew had been driven to that by years of abuse and bad decisions. With a start, she realized that her father—her own tall, strong dad who'd loved to toss her high in the air when she was little—could have been his brother. Instead of playing with his children, he might have beat them. Instead of putting money aside for a rainy day, he might have drained the family dry trying to keep up a vile habit that would eventually kill him.
Her throat grew tight for no reason that she could name. Her father wasn't a bad person and neither was Uncle Andrew… but it made her sad that bad choices by one person could affect the lives of so many even years down the line, even after his death.
Suddenly she understood what her father had been saying about his choice to do the right thing. That kind of life was the one he'd wanted to avoid. She felt in herself the same resolve; to try to do the right thing, even if it was hard, because it wasn't just her life she was living. She looked down as baby Isaac crawled to her, lifting his chubby hands to be picked up. Other lives would be affected by hers as well. She pulled Isaac into her lap and watched as he cooed happily at their father on the screen.