Page 94 of Off Sides
That gets a chuckle because he’s not wrong.
I step aside and give him room to enter.
“Who is it?” Char yells from the kitchen.
“It’s Matt.”
Her head pops into the hallway with a raised eyebrow. “Oh.”
“For fuck’s sake, I’m not that bad.”
Char and I share a look that says otherwise but she tells him to come in and have a seat.
It’s quiet, awkward, now with Matt sitting at the table with me while Char finishes cooking. I get him a cup of coffee but no one really says anything.
She gets the food plated and I bring it to the table for her while she grabs silverware.
“Okay, spill it, why are you here?” Char demands.
Matt looks between us and his shoulders droop as he sets his fork down on the table. He looks at his hands when he speaks. “You were right. Last night, when you said I took it out on you that Dad was gone and Mom had fucked off.” He takes a shaky breath. “I know I’m a fuckup and if I don’t get my shit together, I’m going to ruin my life or die. I’m sorry.”
Char is obviously holding back tears while I fight with myself to let him off the hook and tell him it’s okay. It’s not, and fuck that hurts.
“We’ve relied on you for too long, demanded you sacrifice more than your fair share.” He looks at me and I can feel how much he means it. It’s not just words he’s using to manipulate, he’s thought about this and is actually trying.
“We all made sacrifices when Dad died.”
“No,” he shakes his head, “it was mostly you. Mom relied too much on you, Char tried to help but she relied on you too. I didn’t do anything but cause you more problems. Hell, I’m still causing everyone problems.”
Getting up from my chair, I reach for him and wrap my arms around his shoulders. He clings to me and for the first time in a long time, I have hope.
“I punished you for not being Dad, I’m sorry,” he cries into my shirt.
“You were grieving, I understood,” I say through my own tears.
“You never got that chance and the rest of us did.”
Charlotte comes around the table and joins in our tear-filled hug. “We love you, even when you’re a pain in the ass. Which is most of the time.”
He chuckles and sniffs, wiping at his face as we break apart.
Char is dabbing at her eyes with a napkin, careful not to mess up her makeup or whatever, but she’s got a big smile on her face.
“I think I should go to therapy and start taking AA seriously,” Matt says once we’ve all taken a seat again. He’s pushing the food around his plate and not looking at us.
“That’s a good idea,” I tell him. “It probably wouldn’t hurt any of us to talk to someone.”
Char nods. “I’ll go too.”
Matt smiles and shoves some bacon in his mouth.
For the next two hours, we share memories, spill some tea, laugh, and even cry some. By the time I have to get ready to head to the bus station, I feel lighter than I have in…ever? There’s hope that things will get better, at least for the three of us. Matt will stumble, make mistakes, but if he really wants to change, he will. I know he will. As long as he’s trying, Char and I will support him through the changes he needs to make to ensure his life is better.
Charlotte hugs me at the bus depot and I settle in for the drive. Luckily, I’m used to traveling by bus, though the ones I’ve been on with the team are full of my teammates and can get loud. This is dingy and quiet and not many people talk. It smells like dust and sweat in here, the air is somehow stale, and I wish I could cover my seat in plastic before I sit on it for the next four hours.
Pulling out my phone, I text Nick a picture of me with Char and Matt that we took right before I left.
JOEY: