Disclaimer: I don't own anything here (except for Al) and am just doing this for fun and to pass the long months until Season 4.
Monday afternoon, Tim had a minivan up on the hydraulic lift and was helping Carlos, one of the interns, replace the exhaust system.
"Timmy, come here." Billy's voice was sharp and Tim immediately wondered what he'd done wrong.
"Yeah?" Tim stuffed his hands in his pockets and waited for his brother to yell at him.
"I need you to drive me over to the school." Billy didn't wait for Tim's answer. He just turned and headed out to the truck. Tim told Carlos to take a break and went after Billy, who was already waiting in the truck, impatiently drumming his fingers against the window.
Tim started up the truck and looked at Billy. "Are TJ and Amber okay?"
"No. TJ got into a fight."
They drove in silence, Tim not wanting to aggravate an already agitated Billy. At the school, Billy went into the principal's office while Tim waited in the hallway, sitting on an uncomfortable bench next to his nephew. Tim had far too many memories of sitting on this bench when he was student. He was surprised by how small and rickety it seemed to him now.
Tim rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, looking at the neat rows of drawings taped to the opposite wall. TJ had his arms crossed and was swinging his legs, the look on his face a combination of anger and guilt.
"You want to tell me what happened?" he asked softly, looking back at TJ.
The boy shook his head and refused to make eye contact. Tim shrugged and leaned back. He closed his eyes and waited for Billy. It felt like an eternity had passed before Billy burst through the door, grabbed TJ by the arm and started dragging him down the hallway.
"Ow! You're hurting me!" protested TJ.
Tim caught up with them and put a hand on Billy's shoulder.
"Billy, c'mon, you're hurting him. Seriously."
Billy flashed Tim an angry look but loosened his grip. The drive home was tense and awkward, with TJ sitting between them. Billy's arms were crossed and he stared out the window. TJ's hands were balled up into fists and Tim could see bruises coming out on a few of his knuckles.
At the garage, TJ scrambled out on Tim's side and walked wordlessly into the building, headed for the waiting room.
"Office, TJ. N ow," said Billy, Tim followed them and loitered uneasily in the doorway. He wasn't sure it was any of his business, but he felt an obligation to be there, in case either of them needed his help.
TJ sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk, his hands gripping the chair's arms like he was on a rollercoaster. Billy leaned against the desk and looked down at his son.
"Fighting, TJ? What the hell were you thinking? Principal said you just attacked a kid – no reason for it."
TJ scowled. "I had a reason."
"Did you? Because the principal didn't seem to think there was a reason. Unprovoked, she said it was. Like out of nowhere."
"That's not true! I tried to tell her what happened but she wouldn't listen to me. She'd only listen to Joey. Everyone thinks he's perfect and they believe everything he says."
"So what did he say?"
TJ looked down at the floor, his hair falling down into his eyes.
"TJ. What did he say? I ain't askin' you again," said Billy.
"Joey called Mama some names."
"Joey? Called your mother some names?" repeated Billy.
"Yeah. Joey McCoy....he called Mama.... he said she was a stripper and a whore," TJ's voice was a whisper and he was crying now. Tim sat down next to him and rubbed his back, wanting both to comfort his nephew and find little McCoy and have some very angry words with him.
"Joey McCoy? Is JD his daddy?" asked Billy, his face turning purple.
TJ shrugged. "I guess so."
Billy rolled his eyes and looked up at the ceiling, then rubbed his hand over his face. "Shit. Joey McCoy wants to go around calling your mother names? Why don't you ask him why his mama never graduated from high school?"
TJ looked up at his father, a confused expression on his face.
"Why don't you ask him why his daddy, with his lightening bolt arm and fancy coaches, isn't in the NFL? You want to know why? Because he's a useless choker who can't handle pressure, that's why."
"Whoa, Billy. Hold up," said Tim as he stood up. He leaned toward his brother and whispered softly so TJ couldn't hear him. "You sure this is the way you want to handle this?"
Billy looked up at Tim like a man coming out of a trance. Tim grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the office, closing the door gently behind them.
"What's the problem, Tim? You heard what that little bastard said."
"Billy, you're too upset to handle this. Can you even imagine how you sound right now? You're probably scaring the poor kid."
"Yeah, I'm upset. You better believe it."
"Billy, you gotta watch what you say in front of him. He looks up to you – anything you say, you can pretty much bet is going to come out of his mouth tomorrow."
Billy looked at the ground and said nothing.
"Look, what did the principal say? You seemed pretty upset when you came out of the office," said Tim.
"She said TJ attacked a kid during a football game at recess, for no reason, and really hurt him – black eyes, a bloody nose, split lip, the whole thing."
"And is he suspended now?"
Billy shook his head. "Given the recent, tragic events, she said she wouldn't suspend him. But she's insisting that he go to weekly counseling sessions with the school shrink."
Tim shrugged. "That actually might not be such a bad idea."
Billy waved a hand dismissively. "That's all sort of useless, pansy-ass shit, if you ask me."
"Don't say that in front of him."
Billy rubbed a hand through his hair. "What am I supposed to say to him? I don't want him to be a little thug, but still, to be honest with you, I woulda done the same thing if I'd heard someone say that about Mindy."
"Well, maybe start with the first part, about not wanting him to be a thug and ground him or take away television time or something."
"Is that what Al would say?" asked Billy, his voice dripping with derision.
"No, Billy." Tim sighed. "That's what I would say and do." Without waiting for his brother's reaction, Tim returned to the hydraulic lift to finish up the exhaust system. Cars were definitely easier to understand and fix than children were.
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When the work on the exhaust system was finished, Tim stuck his head into Billy's office. TJ was sitting in the same chair, looking through a car magazine.
"Billy, I got something to take care of. I'll be back to take you home in about an hour," said Tim.
"Can I come?" asked TJ.
Tim looked at Billy, who sighed and shook his head. "You're grounded for a month, remember?"
TJ looked like he was going to argue, but apparently thought better of it. He went back to flipping through the magazine. Tim said good-bye and left.
In his truck on the way there, he had to admit he wasn't sure why he was doing this, except that it felt good to finally have something to do besides standing around while the world crashed down around him.
Tim pulled up on front of JD McCoy's house, which was the same house he'd lived in when they were in high school. He hadn't talked to JD in years, since the summer before Tim's second year at San Antonio State. All he knew about JD's life had come from third and fourth-hand gossip.
How he'd gotten Madison pregnant. How her parents had freaked out and insisted they get married. How he'd melted down during his senior year as a Panther and no college wanted to touch him because he'd earned a reputation as an uncontrollable head case. How he'd played a year of arena football until he wrecked his knee. And how now, he was working for his dad in the family business, but not doing anything particularly difficult or interesting.
Tim rang the doorbell and stepped back, hoping that JD would answer the door. He could hear a muffled shout and then pounding footfalls before the door was pulled open. A miniature JD, same goofy face, the only difference was a mop of red hair, looked up at him. Tim took in the black eyes and the split lip. TJ had really done a number on him.
"Your dad home?" Tim asked.
"Yeah." The kid turned and bellowed, "Dad! Someone's here for you!"
Then he walked away, leaving the door hanging open. Tim had no desire to go into the house, so he leaned against one of the pillars and waited. Soon enough, JD appeared. He looked like an older, more tired, bloated version of his high school self.
"Tim, hey, man, good to see you," said JD, his face lighting up at the unexpected surprise. Even a few years out of high school, JD McCoy was still like an awkward, overly eager puppy.
"Can I talk to you minute?" asked Tim.
"Oh, sure, yeah, come on in."
"Nah, why don't you come out here?"
JD looked around like he was searching for permission, then hurriedly agreed and stepped outside.
"So, what's up? How you been? I heard you're a dad now." JD was stumbling over his words and his anxiousness was putting Tim on edge. He remained silent as he walked around to the far side of his truck, then leaned against it and looked out over the McCoy's lawn, which was as lush and well-manicured as a golf course.
"I wanted to talk to you about Joey and my nephew, TJ."
"Oh yeah? Joey's fine. Madison's pissed but you know, boys will be boys. It happens."
"Did Joey say there was no reason for it? That TJ just attacked him?"
"Yeah, but, like....we understand. The principal explained to us that TJ has been through a lot lately and is like a little....uh....troubled right now."
"One-Two, I know you're a decent guy and I don't imagine you're in the habit of speakin' bad of the dead, say maybe calling someone a whore or a stripper?"
"Stripper? Uh, I don't know what you're talking about." JD's face flushed and Tim could see a bead of sweat gathering on his forehead.
"You know, you gotta be careful what you say in front of kids. You don't know when they're going to repeat something."
"Wait a minute, are you saying that Joey said these things to TJ, about his mother?"
Tim nodded. "It better not happen again, One-Two I'm serious."
"God, no. I don't know where he heard that. Shit. He's six years old. He shouldn't know those words at all." JD looked over his shoulder and Tim followed his gaze to a second floor window, where Madison stood looking out of the blinds.
Tim pushed himself off the side of his truck and stood up straight. "OK, are we cool here?"
"Yeah, absolutely. I'll talk to Joey. It won't happen again."
Tim clapped JD on the shoulder hard enough to make him wince, then got into his truck. He believed JD, both that it wasn't him who had said those things and that it wouldn't happen again.