God Gave Me You 27
Timothy knew something was different the moment he walked through the door. It was Friday afternoon, the wedding was Sunday morning, and his father and Shelagh had taken the day off to attend to last minute plans and packing for their honeymoon. Well, if you could call it a honeymoon. Three days in a hotel on the other side of London didn't seem like a proper honeymoon to Timothy, but it was their holiday so he kept quiet.
Normally, Shelagh would be waiting for him in the kitchen or sitting room with Angela. They'd have some tea and biscuits, talk about his day at school and then start on homework and dinner preparations.
But today there was no tea, no biscuits, no Angela and certainly no delicious smells emanating from the kitchen. Then he heard it, the muffled voices coming down the hallway leading to the bedrooms. It didn't sound like the lilting, happy voices he was used to...this sounded like arguing. Before he realized, he was following the sounds until he reached the partly open door of his father's room.
"Patrick! For the last time, no means no!"
"Shelagh, please!"
"Dearest...I love you, you know I love you. I'm sorry, but no."
"I don't understand why I can't just-"
"No!" Tim froze outside the door as he heard her voice take on such a shrill tone. Hearing her sigh, he relaxed slightly.
"Patrick- you can't keep that tie because it's horrid. Not to mention the fact that it doesn't go with anything in your wardrobe!"
"What about that sweater from-"
"What sweater, dear?"
Moving to the other side so he could see around the door, he watched as his father tore through his meager clothes collection, turning his wardrobe practically upside down.
"This is ridiculous! I swear clothes just keep disappearing!"
Tim had to bite his lip to stifle laughing at that. He'd wondered how long it would take his father to realize that Shelagh had slowly but surely been ridding his wardrobe of some of his less than stellar choices. Timothy had noticed about 3 weeks ago, but was pretty sure Shelagh had been working on it a bit longer than that.
"Now, Patrick. Don't be silly...I'm sure you're just distracted by the wedding." She tried to brush off his worries.
"You're right...of course. Anyway, I don't see why we need to pack at all."
"Patrick..." Shelagh's voice took on a warning tone. Deciding that it was in his better interest to not hear the rest of this conversation, he chose to walk back towards the front door and make his presence known.
"Timothy will be home from school any minute...and two more days isn't so long to wait, is it?"
Patrick, who had by now wrapped his arms around her waist, sighed as he pressed a kiss to the back of her neck.
"Quite right, my love. No rush..." Although the look on his face gave away his real feelings on the topic, Shelagh smiled her thanks at his patience.
"Shelagh!? I'm home!" They heard the front door slam and the tell-tale sound of adolescent legs running down the hall.
"See? You couldn't have gotten away with it anyway." She whispered to Patrick, kissing his cheek as she passed by and called out to Timothy. "We'll be right out, Tim! I'm just helping your father pack."
"Now, Doctor Turner. Make sure you pack something appropriate to wear, I expect your wife will want to be taken to dinner at least once."
"Just the once?" Patrick smiled at her while she stood in the doorway.
"We've only got three days. The rest is negotiable." She winked as she left the room.
"Sunday cannot come soon enough..." Patrick blew out a breath as he hastily shoved the (apparently) offensive tie back into his wardrobe and chose one of the others Shelagh had laid out.