Date: Wed, 25 Jun 2003 01:31:31 -0400
From: Ehman Penn <ehman@ehmanpenn.com>
Subject: Matthew Figures It Out - Part 17

This story is a fictional account of the lives, loves and
struggles of teenage boys. Don't read it if there's any
chance that doing so might send you or the author to jail.
This story is also copyrighted by the author and cannot be
altered, reproduced, or hosted without his consent. Please
direct all feedback to: ehman@ehmanpenn.com

*****************************

Matthew Figures It Out   -  Chapter 17  `Family History'


.. What was left of the Briggs' family made their way out to
the finished grave. Matt stood well back and watched from a
distance; his mom and dad had rejoined him and stood by his
side. It was impressive work and Robert Briggs final resting
place looked well groomed and well secured. While the past
wouldn't be so easily buried, at least a path to the future
was now cleared. It shouldn't have happened this way, but it
was over.

***

The Briggs' family finally found some measure of peace on
the ride back home from the service.  Chris sat in the back
seat and stared out into the countryside. As his sister
neared their home, his eyes fixed on a dim light inside the
last house before their final destination. There was no
Christmas tree in the window, no other decorations adorning
the small frame; Chris couldn't remember ever having seen
Christmas lights on the Henson house. His heart filled with
fresh regret and his mind filled with the fresh memory of a
bastard brother he had only recently made eye contact with
for the first time in two years. Caught between their stares
had been the collapsed body of the boy Chris loved and the
lifeless body of a bastard father. At that moment, with
their eyes locked together, Chris had been unable to hide
the regret or disappointment in himself. Jay had come to his
rescue, and to Matt's, and the irony wasn't lost on him.

***

Inside the Henson house sat a young man and his mother. She
tried to find the words to express her own regrets, but no
suitable words could be found within her limited vocabulary.
Instead, she offered apologetic glances, alternating between
Jay's face and the worn carpet on the floor.

The one night spent in jail was still fresh on Jay's mind.
He had been released the following day once the sheriff's
department had gathered all of the statements, pending a
final decision by the County District Attorney's office on
prosecution. Though he had been assured by all of the local
authorities that a case would not be brought by the D.A., it
was still one last very dark cloud left hanging over his
head courtesy of Robert Samuel Briggs.

Jay soon grew uncomfortable with the nervous glances from
his mother. He needed to make his escape. First, he moved
over to his mother's side and took her hand. He repeated the
same words he had spoken a thousand times before, but this
time the words held new promise -- and new doubts. "It's
gonna be OK, mom. Don't worry, it's gonna be OK." His mom
patted the top of his hand and gave him a grim smile before
releasing him. She recognized this routine well. He then
retreated to the confines of his small room, pausing to
pluck out a paperback from a tall well-organized stack in
the corner beside his bed. Stretched out with his back on
the squeaky mattress, each word of the open book carried him
another step away until, finally, life's concerns faded out
of sight. His escape was now complete.

***

Chris would find no such escape of his own this night.
First, there were the beagle pups to feed; they represented
the only lasting evidence of his father's ability to love.
When he came back inside, Melanie was already absorbed in a
stack of papers and bills, her expression gave away the
worried disbelief rumbling through her mind. Melanie wasn't
one to dwell on grief. Peggy sat idly in the dark living
room, sober, but hardly well.

Chris stripped free of his funeral clothes and collapsed
onto his bed, wincing from the last physical bruise his
father would inflict. His soul restlessly pleaded with the
darkness, begging for a pardon of sleep, but none would be
granted on this long night. The images rolled through his
mind as if on an endless horrific loop: Matt's battered face
looking up at him with desperation in his eyes, his father
just behind Matt with a pistol at the end of his
outstretched hand. Then the gunshot, followed by an endless
moment of terror and confusion, then the image of Jay,
caught in the corner of his mind's eye. Then finally, Jay's
tormented eyes boring into Chris's soul. Over and over and
over again, the images rolled through his mind.

Daybreak brought relief as the images seemed to fade with
the growing morning light. Chris sat upright in his bed and
took inventory of his thoughts and emotions. He found regret
in plentiful supply, along with worry and self-doubt.
Thankfully, his heart provided reminder for the love of a
boy named Matt who had shown him love first. Chris looked
hard and long but couldn't find the fear he had carried with
him his whole life. Most importantly, he found hope; hope
inspired by the love. With hope, he found resolve. He now
knew what had to be done: The burdensome debt of regret had
to be settled.

His first step outside revealed a frozen terrain as the
hardened ground crackled under the weight of his boots. The
wind had settled and his hot breath produced a foggy cloud
that hung in the air before his face. He was going to invite
Sally, mother to the beagle pups, along on his walk. But the
huddled mass of puppies and mother, warmly tucked into a
corner of their shelter, was more than he could bring
himself to disturb. This was a walk he would have to make
alone.

The solitude of the woods had always brought him comfort;
this had been his escape. The morning was unusually cold and
quiet and the local wildlife had sought shelter where it
could be found. From a distant hill, he could hear the
familiar steps of a deer, the sound somehow cutting through
the endless barrage of trees and brush. The effect brought
him a peace he was unable to find in his own bed. He
continued to walk on a path untaken for much too long, but
one he had never forgotten.

A cleared field, dormant from a fall wheat crop long since
gathered, now stood between him and the end of his journey.
Chris could see the dim outline of a house inside the lining
of adjoining trees. He paused to regroup and gather his
courage. The peaceful solace of the trees had given way to
new discomfort and dread. He closed his eyes and the images
returned to remind him why he was there in the first place.
Quickly refocusing, he made his way along the edge of the
open field, determined not to pause again. The sight of
another form moving near the house foiled his determination,
but only for a moment.

Jay had fallen asleep the night before with his unfinished
book in hand. Per the normal schedule, his mother was
already off to work this morning; mill jobs required an
early start, after all. He preferred the crisp morning air
to the confinement of their house. Walking around the
backyard, he noticed the small frozen pond inside the water
bowl he had been unable to bring himself to put away. He
knew Shep, his much missed English Collie, wasn't coming
back but it just didn't feel right moving the bowl from the
place it had occupied for thirteen years.

Through the outline of trees, his eye picked up movement
approaching from the edge of the open field. His attention
fixed on the figure he couldn't yet recognize and he moved
cautiously in the direction of the visitor. On earlier days,
such a sight would have been cause for great alarm, but
those days were now past. Suddenly, the advancing face
snapped into clear focus. Jay's forward motions stopped and
his weight settled back on his heels just a bit.

Chris's own steps became harder to make, but he kept one
foot in front of the other and kept walking. His eyes locked
again with Jay's, except for a final look down for
navigation over a fallen tree limb.

Now within close proximity of his brother, Chris stopped and
they adjusted to each other's company. Chris broke first and
his eyes released a tide of remorse. He couldn't bear to be
seen like this in front of Jay and he looked down trying to
shield his shame. Jay wasn't so easily broken; tears served
no useful purpose to him. His eyes did express
understanding, for he had remorse of his own.

Chris summonsed new strength and he lifted his eyes to meet
Jay again, relieved to find no judgment there. "I don't know
where to start," Chris said. "You saved Matt's life and you
saved mine too...." Chris shook his head from side to side,
still unable to comprehend why Jay would even bother.

Jay was uneasy with Chris's struggle for words. He took no
pleasure in watching his younger brother -- if only by a few
months -- in such agony.

"I just lay there and watched him beat the shit out of you,
Jay..I swear to God I didn't know he was hurting you that
bad. But I should have stopped him. I should have at least
tried. But I didn't. I was a coward that day and maybe I
still am..." Chris looked down again.

"A coward wouldn't have come here," Jay replied. Chris
lifted his head again and looked into Jay's eyes with more
relief at the grace being shown him.

"Jay, I didn't know then...that we were brothers. I didn't
find that out until I was in the hospital."

"I didn't know either. But your dad...our dad, made it real
clear that no one else was to know either. He threatened my
mom. He's been threatening her my whole life. And I'm not
sorry he's dead," Jay said.

"Yeah, he's been threatening my mom too, and worse. I wish I
understood how he got so fucked up, Jay. And I hope,"
finding fear again in his heart, "that I'm not that fucked
up too. Somewhere deep inside, you know?"

"That makes two of us. But I don't think we are..that fucked
up. Not yet, at least."

"I always felt like I betrayed you, Jay. I just kept my
mouth shut about everything. People actually thought I was
the one who beat you up."

Sibling competitiveness intervened. Jay replied with a
reserved smile, "That was always hard to take, cause we both
know you couldn't kick my ass."

"Nah, I don't think I could kick my big brother's ass,"
Chris replied with a warm smile that spoke deference.

"You didn't betray me, Chris. No more than I betrayed you, I
figure. We just both got a pretty raw deal out of the whole
thing. Maybe if we'd stood up for each other things would
have been different."

"How did you betray me? I don't get that one at all." Chris
wondered if Jay was going out of his way to let him off
easy.

"I don't know, I think I should have known. If he was
willing to threaten my mom like that, then I should have
known things were bad for you and your mom too. I mean, you
had to live with him. I didn't. Until Matt mentioned it, I
just didn't stop to think what he might be doing to you."
Remorse was now on Jay's face.

Chris said, "There was nothing you could do about
that....Matt told you, huh?"

"He's a persistent little shit, I've got to give him credit
for that," Jay smiled again, teasingly.

"Yeah. Yeah, he really is, isn't he?" Chris accepted the
tease in good nature. And he knew Jay was right about Matt.
"But it kind of grows on you."

Jay just smiled in return, nodding his head once.

"How is your mom taking all of this?" Chris asked.

The question took Jay back a bit. He wasn't used to talking
about his mom. No one ever asked.

"She's still worried I'm going to jail. She's always been a
real worrier, but I can't blame her."

"No, I guess not. I can't blame her either. I told them
everything, Jay. I told them what happened the first time
and I told them exactly what happened again this time. I
told them he beat the shit out of me and my mom, too. I even
showed them the old bruises to prove it."

Jay frowned, and then said, "My mom told them how he had
threatened her. She didn't really think they believed her,
but she's sort of like that. She just doesn't have any
confidence that anyone believes her." He paused for a
moment, and then continued. "I was pretty scared that night
I spent in jail. You just don't know what's going to happen
and all. I told them I shot him. They asked me if I planned
it all out. I told hem how Matt came over and told me he was
going to your house next. It was just one of those things I
had a real bad feeling about.  They asked me all sorts of
questions. I know they were just doing their jobs, but I was
nervous about it all. It's not like we've got enough money
to hire O.J.'s lawyers."

"Jay, they asked me why dad beat you up so bad, why he beat
both of us up that day. I told them what we were doing when
he caught us. I had to. They wouldn't have believed he just
wandered up on us and starting flailing away for no reason."

"It's OK, Chris. I told them too. The sheriff's deputy got a
little nervous about that part. He looked like somebody had
stuck a spike up his ass."

"Maybe somebody should. I'm not ashamed about it anymore,
Jay."

"I am still, a little. I don't know why. It's not like
anybody's going to look down on me even more than they
already do," Jay replied.

"Are you still scared about maybe having a trial?" Chris
asked.

"They said it wouldn't come to that point. The D.A.'s office
let me go without bail until they announced their final
decision. I guess they figured I don't have enough money to
run very far anyway. I don't think they want this to get put
on trial for everybody to see. It's not the type of thing
that will make anybody look good. I think they feel like
they got duped the first time around and no one wants too
many questions asked about that. If it comes to a trial,
that would be really hard. You know we'd have to get up and
say that stuff in public?" Jay and Chris swallowed hard in
unison.

Chris replied, "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that. But
if it does, it does. I'm not going to hold anything back,
Jay. Maybe everybody needs to know. Maybe it will help
somebody else. People looked at him and thought, `He's a
teacher. How could that happen?' Well, it damn well happened
all right!"

Jay nodded his head again in agreement, but talk of a public
trial brought obvious discomfort to his face.

"It probably won't happen, but if it does, this time I'll be
there for you," Chris said, seeing the flash of doubt in
Jay's eyes and seeking to reassure him.

"OK?" Chris asked, reaching out his hand.

Jay looked over his `little' brother, taking him in. "A
coward definitely wouldn't have come over here," repeating
and reinforcing his earlier words. He accepted Chris's offer
and they shook hands for the first time as brothers.

"I better get back before mom and Melanie start worrying
about me," the handshake lingered until Chris finished the
words.

"Anytime, little brother," Jay replied.

The natural order of things worked well in their case. Jay
had matured with a different set of experiences from Chris,
having always been the "man" of the house. Quiet and greatly
misunderstood, he didn't really care what others thought of
him, yet he wasn't completely immune from their judgments.
He did care what his mother thought and now he would add a
brother to the short list as well.

Chris gave him one last respectful smile as he turned and
retraced his path back home. An unloving father had been
traded for the opportunity of love from a long lost brother.
Jay was right when he said, "We just both got a pretty raw
deal out of the whole thing." Maybe, in time, the "deal"
could still work out. With love and hope, such things are
possible.

As he pressed through the last stand of brush, Chris saw
Melanie pacing nervously near the corner of the house, a
freshly lit cigarette flicking between her fingers. He gave
her a frown.

"When did you start smoking?"

"I started smoking in high school. I've been quitting ever
since." She wasn't really trying to be funny. It was mostly
a sad admission on her part.

"It's not a very good example, you being a nurse and all."
His words drew a response that didn't warm the freezing
weather. Melanie dropped the cigarette and pressed it into
the frozen turf.

"If you must know, I haven't had one in six months. I only
smoke now when I get very nervous," Melanie said.

"I'm sorry, Mel. I was just being a smartass. It's what
little brothers do, you know?" Chris gave her an apologetic
face and looked her in the eyes. Melanie's face accepted the
apology, deciding to cut him some slack.

"So where did you sneak off to this morning? We got out of
bed and you were nowhere to be found."

Chris didn't answer right away. He wondered just how much
Melanie knew about Jay and his mom. After all, Jay was her
brother too. Melanie sensed the confliction in his face.

"You don't have to say. I was just being nosey. It's what
big sisters do, you know?" She finished her words with a
nervous smile.

"No, it's OK. I went to see Jay Henson. We had a nice long
talk." Chris searched her face closely, looking for a sign
that she knew. Melanie suddenly wished she hadn't dropped
that cigarette so fast.

"Is that right? Well, good. I suppose. Yes, that's good,"
she said. There were already too many other nervous thoughts
in her head and she had no space for this one.

"Mel, maybe you and I can have a nice long talk soon too.
We've got a lot of catching up to do. But for now, I really
need some breakfast. I haven't had anything to eat since
before the funeral yesterday."

"We do have a lot of catching up to do. You're right. But
come on, let's feed you for now." Melanie was grateful for
the opportunity to postpone any conversation about Jay. She
wondered if Matt had already told Chris, or if Chris simply
knew on his own.

They came inside together and scavenged through the leftover
food brought in by local church groups, a customary practice
in the South during a death in a family. "Women's Clubs" as
they were called within their respective churches, but they
were more like cooking clubs, serving up comfort in the form
of fried chicken, potato salad, and various pies and cakes.
Their efforts were much appreciated and warmed-up leftover
chicken and biscuits would comfort Chris's appetite just
fine.

"Is mom still in bed?" Chris looked around the house.

"Well, she's back in bed. She decided to lie back down for a
little while." Nervous concern returned to Melanie's face.

"But she didn't drink anything, right?" Chris needed to ask
to be sure.

"Chris, I've thrown out everything I could find. I've been
through all of the cabinets and drawers. If she had anything
else to drink, she snuck it by me." Melanie instinctively
reached for her purse, ready to dig out another cigarette,
before stopping herself and catching the irony of her
reaction.

Chris walked back to the bedroom opening the door slightly
and seeing his mother face down on the bed. She was
sleeping. He moved quietly by her side and leaned down
placing his nose in close proximity to her breath. He
couldn't detect any scent of alcohol and he retreated to the
kitchen, softly closing the door behind him.

"I think she's clean. She's probably just worn out from
everything and the medications make her drowsy too," he
reported to Melanie.

"Chris, did you know she got fired about a month ago?"
Melanie knew he didn't know. She had to force the admission
from her mom after realizing there had been no paychecks
deposited for that length of time.

"Shit! Where the hell has she been going every day?" Chris
asked.

"She said she was out looking for another job. But I don't
know. She let her health insurance expire." Melanie replied,
clenching her jaw and shaking her head. "All she had to do
was send in the paperwork and she would still have coverage,
but she couldn't even do that. See this stack of bills?"
Melanie grabbed a large handful of opened envelopes and held
them in the air. "These are all hospital bills!"

Melanie's worry and frustration were now spreading onto
Chris.

She continued, "And dad's life insurance barely paid for his
funeral." Biting her lip, she made another nervous fidget
into her purse, finally pulling out that next cigarette and
exiting out the back door.

Chris never ate the leftover chicken and biscuits. His
appetite had been spoiled, again.

Melanie spent the rest of the day trying to make numbers add
up, but they just wouldn't work in her favor. The chaos that
had overtaken Robert and Peggy Briggs' lives had spread into
their finances as well. The large tally of hospital bills
tipped the balance decidedly into the category of desperate.
The emergency pack of cigarettes was now expired and Melanie
had no outlet left for her nervousness.

Having benefited from the brotherly grace shown by Jay,
Chris's conscience had eased a little and he had drifted
into a late afternoon sleep. He still felt much weight on
his shoulders, most of it heaped there by the sordid legacy
of his father, and the debt owed to past transgressions
still had an unpaid balance yet.

Peggy was out again. Only the nervous tapping of a
calculator could be heard as Melanie continued to search for
an answer that wouldn't come.

***

Jay had some work lined up during the school break, helping
clean out an old building in town that was being renovated.
Rumor and suspicion had cancelled the opportunity for him.
Still he waited for final word from the D.A.'s office but
yet another day went by without any. His day ended the same
way it had begun, with a book in hand, stretched out on a
squeaky mattress.

***

The ride home for Matt, John and Joanna Jordan was a quiet
one. There really isn't much to say after attending the
funeral of the man who tried to kill your son. Matt, in the
back seat, rested his head against the cool glass, his eyes
wandering across the open country terrain. The sun had just
set and Christmas was now only nine days away. Billows of
smoke from passing chimneys dispersed quickly into the wind,
providing a ghostly trail as they disappeared into thin air.
Somehow, the effect seemed appropriate to the events of the
day, but the bold red, green, yellow, and blue Christmas
lights seemed less appropriate to Matt. He found the large
decorative bulbs, often strung rather carelessly and without
real pattern, to be more tacky than decorative -- yet
another Southern custom he had yet to gain appreciation for.

In a roadside pasture, Matt could see the silhouette of
horses against the fading evening light and his thoughts
turned to Tommy. During the most trying times of his
relationship with Chris, Matt had found much needed comfort
in Tommy's presence. Tommy had sensed Matt's need, as he
always seemed to, and had stayed by Matt's side during the
critical first night while Peggy Briggs fought for her life
and Chris Briggs fought for his emotional sanity. Matt had
felt helpless on that night, only able to offer the quiet
support of companionship to Chris. Tommy had felt helpless
too, and had propped Matt up with his own quiet
companionship. Granted, Tommy was there for Chris too -- as
they had become trusted friends -- but he was mostly, and
always, there for Matt.

"I'd like to go see Tommy soon, or maybe he could come over
to our house again." Matt's words shattered the silence and
failed to bring an immediate response from the front seat.
John and Joanna hadn't enjoyed the peace and comfort of
having Matt home for the night in several days, having spent
the last three nights in the hospital with his injuries.
They weren't quite so eager to give him back up again just
yet.

As was normal, his mother took the lead. "Matthew, you need
to get some rest. You've still got two broken ribs,
remember? Let's wait till the weekend before you start any
new adventures, OK?"

Matt quickly did the math and realized his mom wanted him to
wait a full three nights, as today was only Tuesday. His
eyes and lips narrowed in unison.

"But school is out. What am I going to do? Just lay around
the house all week and get bored to death?" Matt was more
frequently regretting his choice of words. "Death" wasn't a
good word to use right now, if ever. His parents might
forgive, but wouldn't soon forget, the dangerous, near
deadly, actions he had taken over the past weekend. Putting
regret aside, he chose to offer a more palatable
arrangement.

"Maybe Tommy should come over and spend the night. That way
you won't have to worry about me because I'll still be right
under your nose...I really miss Tommy."  The first part was
a negotiation strategy, mostly sales pitch. John Jordan cut
his wife a wry smile which she returned with a "like father,
like son" shake of her head. The last part was an
involuntary expression: Matt truly did miss Tommy badly.

Joanna had learned a thing or two about negotiating herself.
"You get a good day's rest tomorrow and a good night's sleep
in your own bed tomorrow night, and then Tommy can come over
Thursday if Andy and Betty agree."

The negotiations were over and Matt knew it. His mom had
split the difference with him and, in the end, it was a fair
deal. He closed his eyes and again leaned his head against
the glass. More thoughts of his best friend filled his tired
mind and a contented smile came over his face.

Out of Matt's view, John reached over and took his wife's
hand. They exchanged another quick look. Their expressions
spoke of love, gratitude, and relief. It had been a long few
days and they were glad to be taking their son home.

It had been a long day and sleep came quickly for all in the
Jordan house this night. The next morning, John Jordan went
back to work, having missed the last two with Matt's
hospital stay. Joanna had told the vet's office not to
expect her back this week. She took her job and the patients
she helped treat seriously, but her son's health and
emotional welfare came first.

It was almost eleven in the morning, and Matt was still
making soft sleeping noises as his mother looked in on him
yet again. Matt was sleeping in, enjoying his first
uninterrupted night of rest in several days; a hospital bed
was a miserable alternative to the comforts of home. Joanna
had stayed by his side all three nights in the hospital. He
was there mostly for observation from the concussion, but
she still couldn't bear the thought of him there alone,
without her. She had watched Matt's nervous twitches during
his near-sleep and heard "No! No!" repeated many times
during those three nights. Having heard the story recounted
to the sheriff's deputy in all the violent details, she
considered herself lucky to still have a son to watch over.

With an abrupt snort of breath, Matt sat straight up in the
bed and looked wildly around the room. His sudden movements
made his mother flinch with surprise, but she was back on
her game in an instant.

Softly, she spoke, "Hey, hey, hey. It's OK, Matt. It's OK."
She placed a soothing hand on his forehead and poured more
comfort into his eyes with the look only a mother can
deliver.

Matt took several quick breaths and his eyes narrowed in
anger at having been assaulted once again, if only in his
sleep. There were no crisp images haunting him, only dark
dull movements always swirling around just outside of his
view, followed by the feeling of falling suddenly, as if
pushed from behind into a deep hole. The plunge downwards
always woke him up -- four nights in a row and counting.

"It's all right now. It was a bad concussion, Matt. It will
take a few days for your brain to heal itself. The
nightmares will go away." Joanna followed with still more
motherly rubbing on the forehead as if rubbing him there
might heal the bruised membranes more quickly.

Matt wasn't so convinced about the nightmares, but his
mother's touch had its usual result and he soon felt at
ease. "I'm OK, mom. I'm just going to lie here for a few
minutes."

"Do you feel like eating something?" As she asked, Joanna
moved her hand down to Matt's forearm.

"Is it too late for pancakes?" Matt was more interested in
comfort than nutrition. His mother smiled.

"It's never too late for pancakes, Matthew."

As Joanna dutifully made her way downstairs, Matt moved his
hand across his own forehead, trying to replicate the
comforting touch of his mother, but it was no use. He
thought of Chris. His own brief, but brutal, encounter with
Chris's dad had given him deeper appreciation for the hell
Chris had suffered at Robert Briggs' hands. He also thought
of Chris's mom, wondering how Chris had survived without the
loving touch of a mother like Joanna Jordan. His own bruises
and nightmares had only increased his desire to hold Chris
in his arms again and to provide soothing compensation to
Chris's injured soul.

Eventually, Matt eased his way out of bed and made a quick
pit stop in the bathroom before heading straight downstairs
to the kitchen, t-shirt hanging down over the top of the
same loose boxer shorts he woke up in. Normally, he would
bolt down the staircase with his feet barely hitting the
ground. Today, he made each step carefully, his head still
wobbly and feeling each dull thud along the way.

Joanna Jordan was an accomplished pancake chef as evidenced
by Matt's enthusiasm for the hot stack on his plate.

"Hospital food sucks, mom." Matt hadn't spent a night in the
hospital since the day he was born. What was common
knowledge to many was still a new discovery to him.

"Well, let's don't make a habit out of eating it then, all
right?" She wasn't kidding.

Matt's fork twirled continuously in a pool of syrup, deep
thought interrupting his attack on the remaining corner of
the stack.

"I'm really sorry, mom." Matt's eyes conveyed the sorrow. He
knew his mother worried about him and he knew he had caused
her deep concern and pain. Even more, he was sorry for
almost causing her the ultimate pain, but the thought of his
mother crying inconsolably over his grave was a thought he
couldn't hold very long.

"Oh, Matt. I know you did what you thought was right. And I
know you were trying to help Chris."

"Mom, I didn't know his father was going to try to kill me!"

"I know, Matt. He was a horrible man, I can't even call him
a father," Joanna said, shaking her head still unable to
comprehend the full violent intimacy of the events.

"I just wanted Chris to leave. Even if he had to run away
from home, just anything but stay there with him..I told
Chris I was sorry though. Because I do feel responsible for
what happened. It wouldn't have happened if I hadn't gone by
there."

"Maybe, it just wouldn't have happened that day, Matt. But
who knows what might have happened the next day. I'm just
glad you're going to be all right and I hope Chris will be
too." Joanna Jordan hadn't forgotten about her other son --
the one she might as well have adopted on first meeting.

"I know you don't want to turn this into the Hotel Jordan,
but I really need to have Chris over soon too. I wanted to
give him a few days with his mom and Melanie. It just didn't
feel right asking him so soon afterwards and all."

"Matt, the Hotel Jordan will always have room for Chris and
Tommy," she smiled, filled with warmth, knowing that Matt
now had such good friends to keep his company. Even with the
recent events, Joanna didn't regret their move to North
Carolina. Her intuition about Matt had been right all along
and she would take the trials and tribulations along with
the new joy she could see in his spirit.

Matt decided to call Tommy and issue his invitation for
tomorrow's visit.

"Hello, Mrs. Johnson..OK, then Hello `Betty,'... yes I'm
feeling better and my mom is home taking care of me..I am
very lucky, ma'am, you are right about that...Yes,
ma'am...Yes, ma'am...Yes, ma'am....Yes, I would like to
speak with him, but it was good talking to you again too."

Tommy had to practically wrestle the phone away from his
mother. "Hey Matt, how are you doing?"

"I'm all right, Tommy. I've been better, but I'm going to be
OK."

"I'm sorry I wasn't at the funeral. My mom and dad just
couldn't bring themselves to be there." Tommy's apology
wasn't needed.

"I don't blame them at all, Tommy. And don't be sorry. I'm
glad you didn't have to suffer through it too. I'm just glad
it's over..I was wondering if you might be able to come over
tomorrow and maybe spend the night. Think your mom will let
you?"

"Well, she'd probably rather have you come over here. My mom
really likes you, Matt. I think she wants your mom to trade
you for me." Tommy cast a suspicious glance at his mom,
drawing a giggle from her since she was naturally listening
to every word.

Matt laughed so hard it literally hurt and he coughed a few
times, catching his breath.

"Mattie, are you OK?" Tommy didn't like the sound of that
cough and he regressed a bit in genuine concern.

"Yeah, Tommy. I'm OK," Matt said, controlling his laughter
and coughing. "My ribs are still really sore and I guess it
just makes me short of breath when I laugh too much. I
hadn't laughed enough to find that one out, but I should
have known you'd crack one on me...My mom doesn't want me
out of the house for a few days. She wanted to know if you
could come over here. Or maybe your mom paid her off just to
get rid of you for a night." This was followed by new
coughs.

"I wouldn't put it past her." Tommy cast another suspicious
glance at Betty Johnson, this time drawing an equally
suspicious, if good natured, response since she had no idea
what he meant by that. "Hold on a second and let me ask
her."

Matt could hear Tommy asking his mother and then he heard
her ask what he "wouldn't put past her." Followed by "Oh,
just tell me I can go already please!" Finally followed by
"Yes, Tommy you can go. No need to get your little shorts in
a wad about it!"

Now Matt was laughing again, blurting out
"your...little..shorts..." in between coughs.

"Oh, you heard that, huh?" Tommy shook his head at his
mother in mock disgust.

"I'm sorry, Tommy. That was pretty funny though. Tell your
mom I said thanks and we can come and pick you up if she'd
like."

"No, no, no...I mean, she'll bring me over. Don't worry
about it. What time?" Tommy's nervous response piqued Matt's
curiosity, but he decided it was just Tommy being Tommy.

"Make it around noon. That way we can both sleep late. You
can eat lunch with us," Matt was pleased with his plan.

"I'll be up early anyway, but you get some rest, Matt. That
cough doesn't sound so good."

"I'm really OK. It just hurts when I laugh too hard. I'll be
good and healed up tomorrow so we can laugh all we want,"
Matt was sure that Tommy's presence would in fact be a
healing experience for him.

"Bye, Tommy. See you tomorrow...I've missed you,
well....bye." It was hard for Matt to hang up the phone and
tomorrow couldn't get there soon enough to suit him.

The rest of the day passed very slowly. Matt thought death
by boredom was a very real possibility after all before he
finally drifted off to sleep in front of the TV during the
afternoon soap operas.

Night fell on the countryside and Christmas edged one day
closer.

The new day brought an old nightmare and Matt flung his
pillow across the room in fresh anger at this latest
violation of his slumber. The strain of the motion brought a
sharp pain to his side and he doubled up on the bed in
tears, mostly of frustration. After a short while, he
steadied himself and wiped the tears from his eyes. Looking
forward to the day ahead, he found encouragement in
remembering Tommy's impending visit.

Final preparations were made and Matt checked the
temperature in the basement. His mom had thought ahead and
set the thermostat to a comfortable level the night before.
Looking over the impressive space, Matt realized his own
good fortune that his parents had chosen a house with a full-
sized basement. With the kitchen and bathrooms just at the
top of the stairs, it really did make for a functional
apartment.

"What are we having for lunch, mom?" Matt thought he might
as well double-check the menu.

"Well, son. We are having green pea soup and burnt toast."
Joanna fought hard to hide the smile.

Matt had no chance to hide the sudden rise in his upper lip
as it nearly overlapped his nose in disgust. Joanna's smile
overtook her face and she kindly added, "and hot dogs and
french fries."

"Ohhhh! Good one, mom. You had me going there for a minute.
Green pea soup my...rear-end," looking embarrassed as he
almost made an "ass" of himself.

"Careful with your choice of vocabulary, young man," Joanna
shook a pointed finger right at him but she didn't rub it
in. The Jordans weren't exactly prudes with their choice of
language, but she expected Matt to show the proper respect
in her presence.

"Sorry, sorry. My bad," Matt shuffled his way over to her
and hugged his way out of any additional tongue -- or finger
-- lashing.

"Did you sleep better last night?" This was Joanna's way of
asking if he had another nightmare.

Matt didn't want to dampen the moment and he replied, "Yeah,
sure. I just needed to get back in my own bed." His lips
could speak the words but his eyes couldn't back it up.

Joanna read right though him; she too now wondered if the
nightmares would simply go away on their own, or if Matt's
psyche might need professional assistance.

The clock was edging toward noon and Matt heard a car pull
in the drive. Joanna watched his face light up and she
shared the comfort of Tommy's approach.

Just as Matt was about to open the front door, he heard a
curious yelp from the other side followed by Tommy's muffled
words, "Shut up or you're gonna spoil the surprise!"

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