Page 122 of Something Like Forever
When he was finished andwent to the front, his mother could barely look at him. Shepaid—even though he insisted she didn’t need to—and they were inthe parking lot before she turned to him wearing a forced smile.“You look very handsome,” she said.
“I’ll befine,” he said for her benefit. “Trust me. We’ve got the bestdoctors on this. Now tell me what you really think of my hair. Istill want to look good for Benjamin.”
“It’s very masculine,” hismother said. “Ben will love it. I do too.”
He hugged her before theyreturned to the car. The subject of cancer didn’t come up again asthey strolled through the mall and had lunch together. She made iteasy to pretend that everything was normal. Sometimes havingparents who shielded their emotions was an advantage. There was noavoiding the subject after they drove to the hospital. They parkedand were making a beeline for the entrance when someone calledtheir names.
“Ella! Tim!”
He turned and saw hisfather waving, standing next to his own vehicle. Tim was toosurprised to wave back. It was a weekday and he didn’t remember hisfather ever taking off work. Not for his benefit, atleast.
“You told him to meet ushere,” Tim said accusingly.
“I did not!” Ella said,sounding equally surprised.
Tim had mixed feelings.Whenever his father was around, his mother tended to focus on herhusband, leaving Tim on the sidelines. He didn’t like their daytogether being sabotaged like this. The rest of him was curious.What did his father want?
“Let’s not be late,”Thomas said when close enough, nodding toward thebuilding.
Nice to see youtoo,Tim thought.No no, stop hugging me! There will be time for thatlater!
His father didn’t hug him,of course. Instead he kissed his wife and led the way. Not only wastheir day interrupted, but now Thomas was in charge of it. Great.It only got worse in the waiting room.
“Whydon’t I get us all some coffee?” Ella said, smiling at themboth.
“I’ll dothat,” Tim said. He stood, glancing at the vending machines andpatting his pockets.
“I saw asign for Starbucks when we pulled in,” Ella said. “Much better. Beright back!”
Short of tackling hismother, Tim wasn’t left with any options to stop her. He sat againnext to his father and braced himself for a long awkward silence,because Tim wasn’t going to talk sports or make conversation. Thosedays were finished. He was done trying.
“Myfather, your grandfather, died of lung cancer,” Thomassaid.
Tim kept his attentionforward. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Myfather asked God to heal him. He didn’t do any of this. You have abetter chance.”
Tim leaned back in hischair to see him better. “Did he at least go to adoctor?”
“Only for the diagnosis,”Thomas said. “That shows how serious it was.”
Tim didn’t hide hisconfusion. “Isn’t it the Christian Scientists who don’t go todoctors?”
“I don’tknow,” Thomas admitted. “We didn’t go to church. I’m not sure whatdenomination he practiced. Religion didn’t make much sense to meuntil I met your mother.”
This was news to him. “Ithought you were both raised Catholic?”
Thomas shook his head. “Myfather’s idea of religion was consulting the Bible. For everything.He used it as a guide for how we should live our lives. Not justmorally, but what we ate and how we dressed. When one of us kidsgot into trouble, he would look up our punishment. Sometimes wewould have to wait overnight, or even days, while he read. Thosetimes were the worst. I hated the anticipation more than the actualpunishment. Usually.”
“Sounds rough,” Timsaid.
Thomas nodded grimly. Thenhe was quiet. Long enough that Tim thought the conversation wasover. He nearly jumped when his father spoke again.
“I tried to give you a better upbringing.We were watched constantly. None of us had our or own room, or anyprivacy. I had an eight o’clock curfew until I was eighteen andmoved out of the house. I wasn’t allowed to drive except for work,and television was forbidden. I used to sneak over to Ralph’s houseto watchThe TonightShow. I thought Johnny Carson was thedevil, but gosh was he funny! I didn’t want you to have to do that.I gave you your space and your freedom. I tried to be a betterfather.”
Tim wanted to argue thatall Thomas had to do was basic little things like acknowledge hisaccomplishments and remind him that he was loved. Then he forcedhimself to think it over, wondering if his father already had.Maybe that’s what the Mitsubishi 3000 GT had been about. It was aluxurious car to give a teenager as a present, especially brandnew. Tim still thought the studio space was for his mother’sbenefit instead of his own, but when he compared that to the lifeof his father… Tim had been given privacy. His own room, and hisown place to paint, which he could lock. He’d had his freedom too,a curfew that was never enforced, and past a certain age, theliberty to stay home when his parents were out of town. Ifanything, they had given him too much space, making him feelunwanted or unimportant. Maybe his father had overshot in hiseffort to do better. Maybe this had been his inept way of lovingTim. Then again…
“I neverfelt that you liked me,” Tim said. “After a game, yeah, and as longas my grades were good, but not me as a person. We never spent muchtime together, and when Benjamin came into my life—” He shook hishead instead of travelling down that tired oldroad.
