Dad Joins

The front door angrily slammed shut, and John could hear his father cussing out the HOA. He must have been outside babysitting the bins longer than normal this week; if you took them out or left them outside even for a minute longer than necessary, the HOA assholes would throw fines at you, so someone had to stand out there in all kinds of weather for a half hour or more on garbage day waiting to bring them out just as the truck pulled up and then bring them back in the instant the truck was done with them.

"Why do I smell bacon?" he yelled as the crump of his shoes got closer. "You aren't trying to sneak some past your mother again, are you?" he asked jokingly as he reached the kitchen. He stopped at the doorway, mouth open in shock at the sight of his vegetarian, will-not-ever-deign-to-cook-meat wife at the stove turning bacon strips over.

"Caitlin?" he asked incredulously, looking from her to John seated at the table and back. "You never cook meat."

"It's what John wanted for breakfast," she replied nonchalantly as she scooped the bacon and eggs onto a plate.

"What John wanted?... But you..." he spluttered then ground to a halt, freezing up, as John's mother glanced his way.

"John wanted it, so of course I made him some," she commented, not noticing that her husband had gone completely still, barely breathing, as their eyes met. "I'm his mother. I'm here to do what he wants, just like you are," she stated as if his asking was the strange thing.

John noticed. He jumped up and waved a hand in front of his father's face, but got no reaction. His mother crossed behind him, depositing the plate on the table like nothing was wrong.

"Here you go honey. Enjoy. Is there anything else you want?" she said, without a glance at her non-responsive husband.

"Mom, what wrong with..." John began.

"Oh, of course. John should have what he wants," his father suddenly put in, shaking himself lightly and coming back alive and cutting john off in mid sentence. "Well, don't just stand there, son," he added. "Eat up, before it gets cold. No need to waste good bacon and eggs. Unless you want to, of course," he said, lightly pushing John aside and moving past him into the kitchen. John sat back down heavily, and, unsure what else to do, began to eat the admittedly tasty food.

"Now that John's taken care of, is there anything you would like, Paul?" his mom asked his dad as she pulled some salad greens out, put a slice of toast on the pan, and began to make her own meal.

"Well thanks to those HOA tyrants, I'm short on time, so I guess it's basics for me. Gotta hurry and get to work," he replied, grabbing milk and a cereal box and city beside John. "Unless you want something," he added to John.

John kept silently eating his eggs, mind racing. "Well, here," his father said when John didn't reply, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet while quickly eating his cereal with the other. He flipped the fold open, pulled out a wad of cash, and put it in front of John, then added a credit card on top. "The code is 4209," he said as he continued eating.

"What... What is this for?" John asked, the only thing he could think to say. "Your giving me money? I mean, aren't you usually after me to pay your for, you know, 'staying under this roof' or something. And... and your card?"

"Son, I know we've been a bit strict in the past; we thought that was what was best for you, but I guess we were wrong. You can stay here as long as you want, and that's for anything you might want if we're not around," he said indicating the money and giving John a pat on the shoulder. "Your mother and I here for you. Anything you want."

John sat there, short circuiting, as his mother took a seat on the other side the table, across from his father, and spreading some jam on her toast and digging into her salad. His mind wandered all over as he absentmindedly picked up the cash, realizing his father had just passed him $120 bucks for no reason. He looked them over for any sign of... well anything, but they just ate their food as if it were any normal morning.