Josh doesn’t move for a while. I’m staring at my phone, attempting to appear patient as he works up courage, but I want to throw the car in drive and get him out of here.
I eventually feel Josh’s finger briefly graze an old scar on my arm, so I look over at him. He’s staring at my arm, taking in the faded scars that remain from the shit I endured living with Sutton and Tim. Josh has never asked me about the scars, though.
“Did Tim do that to you?”
I clench my arm and nod. “Yeah, but it was a long time ago. How he treats a son might be completely different from how he treated a stepson.”
“That shouldn’t matter, right? If he treated you like that, why should he get another chance with me?”
It’s the first time Josh has come close to admitting his father isn’t a hero.
I don’t want to be the person he blames in the future for not having a relationship with his dad, but I want to tell him he’s right. His father shouldn’t get another chance. He left and never looked back. There’s no excuse good enough to walk away from your son.
There’s this toxic belief that family should stick together simply because they’re family. But the best thing I ever did for myself was walk away from them. It scares me to think of where I might be had I not done that. It scares me to think of where Josh might end up if he doesn’t do that.
Josh looks past me, toward the house. His eyes grow a little wider, prompting me to turn and look.
Tim is outside, making his way from the front door to his truck. Josh and I watch in mutually stunned silence.
He looks fragile—older and smaller. Or maybe that’s because I’m no longer a kid.
He’s swigging from the last of a beer can when he opens the front door to his truck. He tosses the empty can into the bed and then leans inside his cab in search of something.
“I don’t know what to do,” Josh whispers. He seems all of the twelve years old that he is right now. It kind of breaks my heart to see him so nervous. Josh’s eyes are pleading for truth when he looks back at me, like he needs me to guide him in this moment.
I’ve never said a bad word about Tim to Josh, but knowing I’m not being completely honest with him about my feelings feels like I’m doing a disservice to him as a brother. Maybe my silence on the matter is more damaging than my truth would be.
I sigh and set my phone down, giving this moment my full attention. Not that it didn’t have my full attention before, but I was trying to give Josh space. It doesn’t seem like he wants it, though. He wants brutal honesty, and what else is an older brother good for if not for that?
“I don’t know my dad,” I admit. “I know his name, but that’s about it. Sutton said he left when I was young, probably about the same age you were when Tim left. It used to bother me, not knowing my father. I used to worry about him. I imagined there was something awful that was keeping him away, like he was locked up in a prison somewhere on a wrongful conviction. I used to come up with these wild scenarios that would excuse how he could know I existed but not be in my life. Because what kind of man could have a son and not want to know him?”
Josh is still staring across the yard at Tim, but I can see that he’s soaking up every word I’m saying.
“My father never sent a penny of child support. He never made an effort at all. My father never bothered to do a Google search, because if he had, he would have easily found me. Hell, you did that at the age of twelve. You found me, and you’re a kid. He’s a grown-ass adult.”
I move so that I have Josh’s full attention. “So is Tim. He is a capable, grown man, and if he cared about anything more than himself, he would have made an effort. He knows your name, he knows what city you live in, he knows how old you are.”
Josh’s eyes are starting to tear up.
“It blows my mind that this man has you for a son, and you want to be in his life, yet he still hasn’t made an effort. You’re a privilege, Josh. Believe me, if I’d known you existed, I would have knocked over buildings to find you.”
As soon as I say that, a tear trickles out of his eye, so Josh quickly looks out his passenger window, away from Tim’s house, away from me. I see him wipe at his eyes, and it breaks my heart.
It also makes me angry as hell that they kept him from me knowingly. My mother knew I would have been a good brother to him, which is why she chose not to let us be a part of each other’s lives. She knew my love for him would outweigh the love she was capable of, so she selfishly kept us apart.
But I don’t want my anger for my mother or Tim or even my father to bleed into Josh’s decision. He’s old enough to make up his own mind, so he can take my honesty and his hope, and I’ll support him in whatever he decides to do with those things.
When Josh finally looks back at me, his eyes are still filled with tears and questions and indecision. He’s looking at me like I need to be the one to make this decision for him.
I just shake my head. “They took twelve years from us, Josh. I don’t think I can forgive them for that, but I won’t be upset if you do want to forgive them. I only ever want to be honest with you, but you are your own person, and if you want to give your father a chance to get to know you, I’ll put a smile on my face and walk you straight to his front door. You just let me know how to be here for you and I’ll be here.”
Josh nods and uses his shirt to wipe away another tear. He inhales, and on his exhale, he says, “He has a truck.”
I don’t know what he means by that, but I follow his line of sight back to Tim’s truck.
“All this time I imagined him to be really poor, without a way back to Boston,” he says. “I even thought maybe he never came because he wasn’t physically able to drive, like maybe his vision was too bad or something. I don’t know. But he has a truck and he never even tried.”
I don’t interfere with his thought process. I just want to be here for him when he finalizes it.
“He doesn’t deserve me, does he.” He says it like a statement rather than a question.
“Neither of them deserves you.”
He doesn’t move for an entire minute as he stares past me out the window. But then he looks at me firmly, sitting a little taller. “You know that homework I’m behind on? The family tree?” Josh pulls at his seat belt and begins to fasten it. “They never said how big the tree needed to be. I’ll just draw a baby seedling. They don’t have branches.” He pats the dash. “Let’s go.”
I laugh hard at that. I wasn’t expecting it. The way this kid weaves humor into the most depressing moments gives me hope for him. I think he’s gonna be okay.
“A seedling, huh?” I start the car and pull on my own seat belt. “That might work.”
“I can draw a seedling with two tiny branches. Yours and mine. We’ll be on our own brand-new, tiny family tree—one that starts with us.”
I feel heat behind my eyes, so I grab my sunglasses off the dash and put them on. “A whole new family tree that starts with us. I like it.”
He nods. “And we’ll do a much better job of keeping it alive than our shitty parents did.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard.” I am absolutely relieved by this decision. Josh may change his mind in the future, but I have a strong suspicion that even if he contacts his father going forward, he’s never going to choose him over me. Josh reminds me a lot of myself, and devotion is a trait we have in spades.
“Atlas?” Josh says my name right as I put the car in drive.
