The Aftermath

Jacob is off to pick up his cigarettes, but gets interrupted as soon as he finds them, what will he do know that Aron knows his secret?

The Aftermath

    Knock knock knock!

    I stood on the front steps of the family estate and waited for someone, preferably Gramps, to open the door and let me in. Aron held my hand and twirled in place next to me, lapping up the last of his vanilla ice-cream, though more seemed to be on his mouth and hands than in his stomach.

    “Aron, baby, I love you but if you stained the car seat again…”

    The door swung open and a short ten year old with a permanent why-are-you-so-stupid glare marring what might have been a sweet face stood in its entrance. He huffed at me.

    “What am I today,” He muttered. “Flypaper for freaks?” I didn’t get the chance to question his comment before he looked down at Aron. “Have you changed your mind about coming to live where people can take real care of you?” I developed a twitch in my right eye. Aren’t younger siblings a joy? Drew was younger than Tom by about six or seven years so he practically grew up as an only child. Mom had died in labor, and it had been Dad’s idea to have another kid to save their marriage so Drew got whatever he wanted because Dad has a guilty conscience. Aron smiled at him politely.

    “Nuh-uh Unkie Drew, this place is still my only option and you people would find me dead in your soup before bedtime!” He pushed past Drew’s legs and let himself in letting out a quick “Charlie! Where are ya!” as he walked deeper into the large, four story, colonial house. I gave Drew a smirk and pushed past him as well. He let out a disrespectful “hmph!” and shut the door, he probably headed upstairs to his room but I didn’t pay attention to that. I was on a mission.

    I hurried into the kitchen and made a beeline towards the cookie jar shaped like a portly Italian chef that Aron and I have named: Ritoli. I lifted his hat and snatched a cookie from inside (Sweet, oatmeal raisin! Take that Ray!) before I threw opened the drawer right beneath and I would swear I heard angles start to sing. Because there, right smack in the middle of the drawer, were my precious Marlboro Cigarettes, just like Tom had promised. I let out a loud, cheerful hoot and snapped up a hunk of my cookie in victory. I smirked proudly as I chewed and grabbed the pack, fully planing to go smoke a few as soon as my cookie was done, when a voice from behind caught my attention.

Ehem

    I jumped and turned around, cookie half-jammed in my mouth and clutching my babies to my chest to make sure they weren’t going to be taken from me again. Gramps and Dad stood in the doorway to the kitchen, both looking too amused for my liking.

“Drew told us that the ‘loser’ had returned and frankly that could mean just about anyone he knows has entered the house” Gramps informed me with a kind smile. “We just wanted to know if it had been Thomas” His smile changed into some polite concern. “You wouldn’t happen to know where he is would you? He hasn’t returned home yet and Lizzie left us an interesting message on your father’s phone.” Oh Gramps, you have no idea. Gramps was the best, my favorite family member by far. He was a tall, lanky, straight-backed man with the world’s best mustache, all bushy and beautiful, and he was the only person in the family who didn’t have black hair. To my dismay, though, he had told me when I was younger that it had been black before it went gray, more like pure white, but that hardly mattered because he was just so cool! He’d been born here in America but went to England for college where he decided; “You know who’s a cool mother f****r? Sherlock Holmes. I’mma do that s**t.” and then he did! He couldn’t match all of the detective skill but he learned everything and especially boxing, so much boxing, so by the time I met him and could remember afterwards he was the most awesome old guy the world had available, and he still is! Dad hadn’t taken after him much, other than hight of course we’re all a bunch of telephone poles with varying widths. Dad was much more ripped then Gramps is, probably ever was even with the boxing, the guy looked like he could break a table if he was mad enough, and there are some reported cases of that. I wonder what he’ll do when he finds out what I did with Tommy Boy.

    “Tom? Oh yeah-” I took a bite of my cookie and said the rest through it. “-he’s in my basement.” I heard a strange choking sound and looked up, Dad looked absolutely horrified. Gramps just looked like he had expected something a bit worse and was proud I’d proved him wrong, thanks Gramps!

    I tried to keep my expression innocent and maybe a little confused if I could manage it.  Oh who’re we kidding, I’m the best at playing stupid!

….

….

….

    Note to self: Never let anyone know that you thought that. Ever

    “What?”  I asked, trying to go for genuinely confused. “I didn’t kill ‘im or anything.” Gramps looked towards Dad for some sort of response or plan of action, but Dad still looked like he was trying to swallow a frog. He probably didn’t care that I said I hadn’t killed Tom. I was probably lying. What else could you expect from a wayward loon-son who thought he could take care of a child when he made less than a million a month. What kind of life was that for a child! I’m so crazy and unstable I probably had Tom chained up somewhere, screaming and bloody with at least four dislocated joints. I’d bet all the money I had that he was currently going through all horrible things I was capable of doing to poor little Tom. I finished off my cookie and glared at him. I was definitely chain-smoking after this conversation is done. “Oh come on James!” I never called him Dad anymore. “What could I have honestly done! Despite what seems to be the Lord’s word around here, I’m not some kid torturing psychopath!” Gramps winced and moved to intervene, he know how hot-headed I could get, but Dad’s a big boy. He can handle me himself.

    “We know that Jacob! Just like you know how unstable you can be when something happens that you don’t like!” This pretty much summed up our relationship these days. Playful to screaming the same amount of time that it took for Usain Bolt to run across your yard. I was pulled from my thoughts when Dad said the unthinkable, which wasn’t really saying much, neither of us tended to think when we got angry. “You could have been high on drugs again and had no clue what you were doing! So excuse me for being a little worried!” Gramps gasped and I felt my face heat up in rage. Again? Again? I’ve been clean for over three goddamn years now and that b*****d would know if he’d been around!

“Daddy?” My heart froze. I looked to Aron, who was standing in the kitchen doorway, in a panic, hoping to see from his face alone what he had heard. I wouldn’t be surprised if it had been all of it with how loud these fights got. I glanced at Ray, who stood behind Aron, I guess he still hasn’t left for Willing yet, and he gave me an apologetic cringe. “Can we go home now?” I looked down at my child and almost punched James right in the face. That was it, he wasn’t Dad anymore, not after this. He was James ‘til the day I died. Aron looked sad, with a little pity mixed in with his now clean features. I swore mentally and walked over, grabbing his hand.

    “‘Course we can, Pumpkin. Let’s go.” We started walking out of the house and no one said a word. I know Gramps will be tearing James a new one after I’m gone so Aron won’t have to hear, and I know that Ray will call me a couple hundred times to know if I’m okay and if he needs to come over and watch Aron for awhile so that I can go out with Mike and get a few drinks to unwind, Beth might even verbally abuse James with a bunch of family crap until he’s been properly shamed, and then after about a week, just in time for Sunday dinner, I’ll get a call from James telling me he’s sorry and that I’m still welcomed at the family table if I’d like to come. I looked up at Drew leaning on the banister halfway down the stairs. He looked smug because I’d gotten told off and insulted, but also a little peaved because there was no doubt that Aron had heard the whole thing and dropping a bomb like that around the kid isn’t okay in anyone’s book, not to mention Drew seemed to like the little guy in a weird “big brother” type of way. He showed his sympathy through his silence and I appreciated it. I really didn’t need any more s**t from him. As I made it to my car another one pulled into the long gravel drive-way. I recognised the car as Lizzie’s and could see Tom sitting in the passenger seat. He sent me a glare but I didn’t bother to acknowledge it. I stared straight and focused on getting the car as far away as I could from this damn house.

    We drove for while with no real destination in mind. A lot happened in the fifteen minutes it took for that whole thing to come to close and we both did our best thinking in the car. Aron sat in the back being unusually quiet and I did the same up front. I didn’t even turn on the radio so we could use that as an excuse for not talking. After an hour of driving, and me making good on my promise to chain-smoke as soon as I got the chance, I opened my mouth to speak, the stress of the situation making me feel like I needed to say something, maybe explain what Aron had heard, or at least find out how long he’d been listening, but Aron beat me to the punch.

    “I love you Daddy. Let’s not talk anymore.” I let out a big sigh, of relief or dismay I wasn’t sure, and started my end of the conversation that I didn’t want to have.

    “No, Pumpkin, I want to explain. Tell me what you heard alright?” I looked in the rearview mirror at my son and saw him shaking his head.

    “Nuh-uh Daddy. Not now. I can hear when I’m older and you actually want to tell me. Grandpa James doesn’t get to decide when that is.” I smiled and felt like an absolute idiot for the tears I felt prickling up behind my eyes. I never wanted Aron to find out about the worst four years of my life. It’d been rough, lots of fights with James and my brothers, but doing what I did to get through it was something that I was more than ashamed of. Everyone had stuck around to help me out, even Drew took it easy on me as I went through the withdrawals, everyone except for James who was too emotionally inept to help his son work through the most unstable point in his life. But now I have Aron, my sweet, amazing, smart little boy who could understand when something important had been said and that now wasn’t the time for him to hear it. I love my son. I love him so much and I can’t believe I actually get to be his dad sometimes.

    “Thanks, Pumpkin, love you.” He smiled in the back and repeated my sentiments. “How about we go get some more ice-cream, yeah?” Aron hummed in thought.

“Can we get pizza instead!” I laughed and agreed. Aron started to cheer in the back and before long we were sitting in Marco’s with a big cheese pizza to share. I made a mental note to get Aron to try pepperoni one of these days.

Author's Note

I really suggest reading "Jacob Has Issues" if you wanna here a least a little bit more about Jacob's drug addiction, sorry if this one was a bit serious, I promise the next story will be far more funny, sort of. Let me know how I did and I hope you enjoyed the story at least a little bit!