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There was an oppressive and tense silence in their bedroom as Aloysius was finishing his packing. He could feel Lardna’s eyes burning into his back as she stood still, cross-armed and and impatiently waiting for him to get a move on. That bitch really couldn’t leave him to pack in peace, could she? Was she so worried about him taking or destroying something of worth out of vengeance that she had to stand there and stare at him until he left?
Oh, and there was the matter of him, too. Her little boyfriend, Mr. Pleasanton or Peaceson or Prettyman or… something like that, was standing watch beside her like she needed the emotional support. Aloysius didn’t know what was worse, having to deal with Lardna or him. He could deal with Lardna’s screaming and verbal abuse, but Prettyman was a different specimen entirely. He tried to be so polite and cordial to Aloysius, as if he wasn’t replacing him in the worst way possible.
That mawkish creep didn’t even realize what he was getting into, did he? That was the one thing that let Aloysius feel any joy. The thought of Mr. Prettyman being trapped with Lardna was a good enough revenge for now. He’d realize just how miserable it was being with her and they’d end up just as disastrous as Aloysius and her had been. Oh, he couldn’t imagine how great it’d be to hear that the two were getting married. He bet that Prettyman would actually invite Aloysius to the wedding. He’d go just to get a glimpse of the upcoming shitshow that it would inevitably be.
Lardna clicked her tongue impatiently. “Can’t you hurry it up, Aloysius?” she snapped. “I don’t have all day for you to fuck around. Pack up and leave.”
Aloysius took a deep but shaky breath, feeling rage building up in his chest. He was tired of screaming at her and arguing with her. There wasn’t much good it’d do now. Their marriage was over and this was, ideally, the last time they’d see each other for quite a while. He wished that they could have cut each other off entirely, but there was the matter of Picky that complicated things.
Lardna was keeping custody of him. Picky would come visit Aloysius sometimes, but he was hoping that moving to Fourside would deter the two of them enough that it wasn’t all too often. He almost felt guilty for daring to think that, but he had to be honest with himself now. Even if it was crushing to watch his family crumble the way it had, he couldn’t have gotten a better deal.
Of course, he loved Picky (he was pretty sure), but… it was so hard. And so now, with their divorce and his moving out, they were stuck figuring out how they were going to deal with Picky in this split household. Aloysius was set to send her child support each month, and he agreed to some visitation at Lardna’s insistence, but he would have been more than happy to give her sole custody. That wasn’t realistic though, and she’d never have allowed him to slip out of their lives entirely. Besides, she would just fuck him up without some input from Aloysius.
Picky didn’t really seem to care either way, so she wasn’t doing all this on behalf of him, that was for damn sure. His son had been the silent figure in this whole mess. Aloysius was a tad grateful that his son had reacted so calmly (or unemotionally) to the divorce. He was expecting it to much worse than that, but Picky had always been mature for his age. Not like Pokey, the immature little brat. Aloysius tried to never think about Pokey anymore, though. He was long gone (and his disappearance investigated thoroughly with nothing turning up) and both he and Lardna knew he would never come back.
Maybe that was just another failure of this entire family. Aloysius and Lardna had been such bad parents that one of their sons was now gone for good. That was another wave of near-guilt whenever he thought about it– but he was a little relieved that Pokey was gone. He thought that Lardna felt the same, though she never admitted it. That had been a massive argument and half, but he just had this feeling that neither of them had loved Pokey as much as they wanted to believe. But hey, maybe he was just projecting. Lardna did like to throw that word at him a lot.
Aloysius pulled his suitcase of clothes shut and secured it, now ready to be taken out of this home forever. He grabbed hold of the handle and pulled it off of the bed. He finally turned to see Lardna again, who looked irritated just by his being here– which she undoubtedly was. She could only roll her eyes at Aloysius. Prettyman had his arm protectively around her broad shoulders in what appeared to be an attempt at looking as sympathetic to the both of them as physically possible.
He put on a strained and unpleasant smile, gesturing with his suitcase to the door. “Well, I’m done. Happy now?”
“I’d be happier if you were dead.”
“L-Lardna–” Mr. Prettyman stammered.
Aloysius could only laugh. He shook his head in disbelief and tilted his body slightly to slide past Lardna, exiting the bedroom. Lardna followed closely at his heels like some filthy hound– and Prettyman, like the demure little thing he was, stayed obediently by her side. Aloysius unconsciously picked up his pace till he passed Picky’s room. He paused just beyond it before backing up to peer in. Picky was sitting on his bed, seemingly in thought.
Exhaling slowly, he hesitated and then entered. Picky looked up at the sound of Aloysius’ footsteps. That beyond uncomfortable air returned as Aloysius searched for the right words to say. “I… w-well, this is it,” he said. “I’ll stay in contact.”
Stay in contact. Like Picky was one of his business partners and not his son. What a shitty choice of words, something Aloysius was already kicking himself for. Picky seemed indifferent to what he’d said, face propped up his hands. “Okay.”
Again, he felt Lardna staring his down from the doorway. Aloysius approached Picky and gingerly placed his free hand on his son’s shoulder. “I’ll come visit whenever I can. We might not be living together anymore, but… you’re still my son. And I…” Aloysius cleared his throat awkwardly. He didn’t want to say these next words, but he had to say something. Mainly to spite Lardna. “I… ahem. Love you.”
“Okay,” Picky replied plainly again.
That wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for. Aloysius sighed. “Okay… well… goodbye.”
“Bye. And I love you too.”
Aloysius nodded. He stepped away and exited Picky’s room, saying nothing more. Lardna and Prettyman followed him down to the living room. His ex-wife pulled him close by his suit jacket and snarled, “Don’t even try to get Picky on your side. You’ll just use him to get back at me. You know you don’t give a fuck about him.”
Aloysius shoved her back as Prettyman raised his hands in alarm. “N-Now, Aloysius–”
“You don’t give a fuck about him either,” he hissed back. “You’re not the good guy here! All you are is a fucking cunt. That’s it.”
Lardna’s eyes widened and her expression changed to unmistakable rage. “What did you call me?”
Aloysius pulled opened the front door. “I said you were a cunt.” He waved, a smarmy grin plastered on his face. “Be seeing you.” He slammed the door shut behind him. The last thing he heard was Lardna’s shrieking his name and Mr. Prettyman’s attempts to keep her calm.
“She complains about you all the time,” Picky said. He poked his overcooked pork chop with his fork, not meeting his father’s eye. “I guess she never really got over it.”
Aloysius snorted and leaned back in his chair across from Picky. “I’m not surprised by that. I mean, you know how hysterical she is.” The thought of Lardna ranting and raving about him even after his moving out made him laugh. He leaned forward, the two front legs of his chair connecting with the floor. “That’s great.” Picky halfheartedly agreed. “…you’re not going to eat your pork chop?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“After I did all this work to make a home-cooked meal? At least take a bite.”
Picky sighed and tested the chop with a small bite. Aloysius raised his eyebrows in expectation. “It’s… okay.”
Aloysius slammed his palm on the table, chuckling. Picky jumped slightly at the sound. “I just can’t please you, huh? Fine. We’ll waste it, then.” He plucked Picky’s plate from the table as well as his own and wandered over to the kitchen. He scraped off the nearly whole pork chop into the trash and set the dirty plates in the sink. “You can at least clean up for me if you’re not gonna eat my food.”
Aloysius sat back down at the dinner table, watching Picky get up to start his chore. He reached over to the beer cans on the table. Empty. He tried the other. Also empty. “And get me another beer, will you?” he called. “And I mean now, Picky.” He could almost sense irritation in Picky’s reaction as he shut off the sink to get his father a beer. Aloysius snatched the can from Picky’s little hands when he finally gave him his offering and cracked it open. “Yeah, thanks, kiddo.”
Picky nodded and recommenced his chore. Aloysius took a swig of his beer. “If you do a good job, maybe I’ll give you a beer, huh?”
“No, that’s okay.”
“What, you don’t want one? Come on, it’ll be fun! You’re getting to be a man now, aren’t you? Trust me, it’s not bad when you get used to it–”
“I said I don’t want to,” Picky replied in a tone that was sharper than intended.
“Watch your tone,” Aloysius warned. “What’s with you tonight? You’ve been acting like a brat the whole goddamn time.”
Picky’s voice wavered when he responded. There was that tinge of fear in it, too, that Aloysius was all too familiar with. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”
“If you don’t want to be here, then just say it,” Aloysius said with a malicious friendliness. “I know how you feel about me. Just so you know, I didn’t want to have you here either. But your mother– oh, your wonderful mother!– insisted that you should. Probably because she’s sick of you and just wanted to dump you on me so she could go off and-and-and– and let that little creep fuck her.”
“Dad,” Picky cut in, voice cracking. “I don’t hate you. Please. Can we just stop talking about this?”
“Oh, you want to stop talking about it, huh? Sure, Picky! Let’s drop it, and then we’ll sit here and pretend like nothing is wrong! Just like when I was still living with your mother! It’ll be like old times. Well, fine. You’ll get what you want. You win! Hope you’re happy.”
Picky slammed one of the plates in his hand down into the sink. It connected with the metal sink with a loud bang, though it didn’t sound like it broke. Through a choking sob, he forced out the words “I’m not.” Aloysius huffed, rolling his eyes at his son’s crying. If he was supposed to feel sympathetic, then Picky was doing a terrible job convincing him to care.
“Just knock it off, Picky. Stop acting like a girl and grow up.”
“I wanna go home,” Picky sobbed as he wiped the tears from his face. “I wanna go home.”
Aloysius pushed his chair back to stand up. He made a sweeping gesture outward with his arms, beer still in hand. “Fine. You’ll get your way yet again. Let me call your mother. ‘Cause I’m not driving you back, and if she won’t either, then you’re walking home, got it?”
Fourside and Onett were pretty far from each other by car already, about an hour and a half drive, but he didn’t care. Picky obviously did though, as he objected, “B-But–”
“Just keep quiet.” Aloysius picked up the receiver and dialed in what had once been his home phone number, now burned into his brain permanently despite his wanting to forget.
“Sooo,” Aloysius started uncertainly, cradling the receiver between his ear and his shoulder to open a beer, “Christmas is coming up, huh?”
“Yep,” Picky replied. “Thirteen days.”
“That soon? Wow…” He shook his head in disbelief. Time was flying by so fast. He still hadn’t gotten the obligatory present for Picky just yet. He had no idea what he even liked, and Lardna wouldn’t help him out on that front, of course. He’d ask Prettyman, but he’d never want help from that fucker. He could figure it out on his, probably. Well, he’d try anyhow, and no one could expect much more from him. “So you done with school till January, or…?”
“Almost.”
“You’re getting good grades?”
“Yes.”
Aloysius chuckled awkwardly. “Well, we’ll know for sure when we get your report card, huh?” Picky hummed in agreement. “What grade are you in again? Third?”
“Fifth.”
Shit. Bad guess. “Ah, right. Yeah, fifth. I was just testing you.”
God, there was so much about Picky he knew he was missing out on. He hadn’t seen him in months. At least six or seven months altogether, but he hadn’t been really keeping track. Aloysius just let the days fly guiltily away, never wanting to know for sure just how much he was neglecting his son.
Not that it really seemed to matter. Picky never seemed happy when they were together, so they weren’t missing out on much. Still, Christmas was a pretty big deal for kids. He’d probably have to go see Picky before then, at least to drop off his present once he figured out what it was. And, well, there was that other thing, too.
“So John Prettyman told me you guys are having a Christmas party. He invited me, actually.”
“Yeah, he told me.”
“Good, good, he told you… uh, well, I was thinking I might go.”
Picky’s voice sounded so surprised when he replied, “Really?”
Aloysius paused. Was he really committing to this…? Well, it wasn’t a wedding to crash, but he needed to see what Lardna and Prettyman were up to nowadays. His curiosity had to be satiated somehow. And yeah, he could see Picky and fill the quota of quality time for the next few months to tide him over. “…Yeah! Might as well. I was going to come down and see you anyways.” He sighed. “Sorry I haven’t really seen you, kiddo. I mean, I’ve been looking for good work again and it’s just been crazy here, so you know–”
“You don’t need to make excuses. It’s fine.“
Damn, all right then. “N-No, I mean–”
Picky cut him off again. “Dad, I said it’s fine. Don’t worry. I’ll tell John you’re coming to the party, okay?”
“Thanks, Picky. See you soon.”
“Yeah. I’m looking forward to seeing you.”
God, he needed to not screw this up.
This was the first time Aloysius had been back in Onett since the divorce. The town was poisoned to him after that. He never wanted to come back, and yet, here he was, about to walk into his ex-wife’s and her boyfriend’s Christmas party. He wondered who else was invited. Mr. Prettymen seemed pretty liberal with the invites if he’d asked Aloysius to come. He was sure Ness’s family would come over for as long as they could bear, the pretentious bastards. He wasn’t sure who else would, and he almost dreaded to find out.
Aloysius stood at the front door for what felt like an hour, but was probably only a minute or two. His hand, curled into a fist, hovered just above the door as he hesitated to knock. He held Picky’s present in the crook of his arm on the other side. It threatened to slip from his grip at any moment and so he stood there, continuously readjusting his hold and waiting for the courage to knock. Suddenly, the door swung open, exposing Aloysius to the warm lights inside.
Lardna stood there with a disdainful and already unhappy look on her face. “Aloysius, just come in. You’ve been standing there for ten minutes.”
Aloysius frowned and pushed past her while she stepped aside. “I was just reconsidering some of my choices. Nothing wrong with that,” he replied quietly but snidely.
Mr. Prettyman approached with a friendliness that set Aloysius on edge. With his arms outstretched as if he expected a hug, he said, “I’m glad you could make it, Aloysius! I didn’t think you would come!”
“Yeah, I didn’t either,” Aloysius grumbled, trying to keep his distance. “Where’s Picky? I have a…” He gestured with the present in his hand. “Yeah.”
“Oh! He’s around here somewhere… check the kitchen, maybe?”
Lardna cut in. “You can just put it underneath the tree. Picky doesn’t need it now.”
Aloysius shot a glare at her. “What’s one present before Christmas? Big deal. It’s not like I’ll be there to see him open it up otherwise.” Not waiting for Lardna’s response, he booked it towards the kitchen at Prettyman’s advice. Surely enough, Picky was there, gathered by Ness and his little sister. He perked up a tad at Aloysius’s appearance.
“You actually came,” Picky said.
“I said I would. So I’m here.” Aloysius held out the box to Picky. “Got this for you.”
Picky took the present from his dad. “Thanks. I’ll open it a little later.”
“No, you can open it now,” he replied encouragingly.
Lardna grabbed Aloysius and yanked him back by his shoulder. “It can wait. He’s talking to his friends,” she said with a fake sweetness. “Come on. Don’t bother Picky, all right?”
“It’ll only take a second.”
“Then you can wait a little while longer! Oh– Rich, come over here and say hi!”
Aloysius groaned. Not Rich. He fucking hated Rich. He still never paid Aloysius back for all the money he lent him and his family. The nerve of that rat bastard, after everything he’d done for him. His wife and kids weren’t much better either. Ness was a constant annoyance, as far as he was concerned. Rich was just another reminder of how much of a shithole Onett really was.
And there he was. Rich, home on a rare occasion, just like Aloysius. Except his family was still in tact. He looked surprised to see Aloysius there. Just as surprised as everyone else. “Aloysius, it’s been a long time,” he said in attempt to be friendly. “How’ve you been?”
“Aside from Lardna divorcing me, taking my house, and forcing me to pay child support while I’m stuck between jobs and barely surviving myself? Just swell, Rich. Just swell. And how’s your family, huh?”
The smile on Rich’s face became all the more forced. Lardna shot a deadly look towards Aloysius, no longer able to keep herself calm. “Will you excuse us for a moment, Rich? Thanks.”
The closest place that allowed them any privacy was bedroom upstairs. Lardna shut both of them inside and Aloysius, so curious to see what bullshit would come out of her mouth this time, was willingly lead there. If only because he wanted to give her a piece of his mind, too.
“Do you want to pull yourself together, Aloysius, and stop embarrassing your family?”
“Family?” Aloysius interjected. “What family is that?”
“Picky. You acting like a jackass in front of everyone is not going to go over well, especially since you haven’t even bothered to visit him in months. Months! And then you show up and you decide to fuck everything up again! What’s wrong with you? Why even bother?”
Aloysius scoffed. “You gotta be fucking kidding me. You’re the one acting like a bitch when I tried to give Picky his goddamn present. I mean, is it really that hard for him to just open it really quick while I’m here? Was it really so horrible for me to want that? Huh? It wouldn’t kill you to just keep your fucking mouth shut or leave me alone while I’m here. I just wanted to see Picky. That’s it.”
“And now you’ve seen him, so you can go!”
“No way. I made a special trip from Fourside for this. I’m staying and I’m going to make this party a living hell for you if you don’t stop this shit.”
“You’re repulsive.”
“So are you. You’re a soul-sucking bitch.”
“You’re a fucking bastard,” Lardna hissed quietly.
Aloysius felt a burning hatred deep in his gut. Neither said anything at all for a moment then, taking the time to really look at each other for the first time in a year. Lardna was the first one to move, taking Aloysius’ face into her hands and pulling him into an aggressive kiss.
Lardna pulled back, still cupping his face. Aloysius was too stunned to speak. Fuck. Why did he miss this so much? He took the initiative and kissed her again. It wasn’t as long or as intense, but there was this sort of giddy embarrassment that came from it. He pulled her into his arms, pressing kisses onto her jawline and neck. She squirmed and objected, just like she always did. She was too ticklish for it, she complained. Aloysius always thought it was too cute to not kiss her there.
Then, he pulled back, holding her at arm’s length. “What will John think?” he asked, half genuine and half mocking.
“John doesn’t need to know.”
Aloysius grinned at her and pulled her in for another kiss. Just like her, the cheating bitch. But for that one singular moment, she was his cheating bitch, and that was enough for him.