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As he pulled up to the house, he found himself double checking again. A nice suburb was enough, but a nice house too? Two stories, spacious backyard, a double garage? His boys live here?
Maybe Joyce gave him the wrong address - after all, it was a scribbled few lines at the end of a letter, the only communication he had gained from them in the past three years.
Lonnie - We’re moving. Boys are good, Jonathan’s going into senior year, Will is going into high school. Call anytime, but they might not want to hear from you.
Joyce
No, he definitely was at the right address.
Not only was this house out of Joyce’s budget, it was just impractically big - just the three of them? Two actually - Jonathan would be at college by now. Where did he want to go? NYU? Lonnie couldn’t recall.
Yet, he rang the doorbell.
A teenage girl answered, draped in a grey-blue flannel to accompany her still gaze. Although she was younger and smaller, Lonnie backed up a bit, feeling as if her gaze held something more powerful.
Staring at her for a moment too long - he went to apologise, ‘wrongs address, sorry to both you sweetheart.’ he would’ve said, relieved - but he caught sight of inside the house. A familiar couch, a familiar dining table. If he squinted, he could almost make out photographs of a lady and two boys.
He might as well ask, looking back at the girl, who seemed to dislike him more by the second.
“Hi, does Joyce live here?”
The girl nodded, stiff and controlled.
“Is she home?”
She nodded again.
God, she’s as talkative as Will. But why was she answering the door? A friend? She looked about the same age Will would be.
“Can I see her?”
The girl turned and shouted into the unnecessarily big house, “Mom! Door!”
Wait, what?
He heard noise from inside the house, shuffled murmurs and the rhythmic steps down a staircase. All too soon, Joyce’s face appeared before him. She looked younger, somehow. Healthier. Not out of place within a neighbourhood like this.
“Lonnie?”
At the mention of his name, the girl looked at him - coldly. Alert from recognition of his name alone.
“Hi Joyce,” He smiled.
Joyce muttered something to the girl - and Lonnie caught her name. El. “Go get Dad,” Joyce said, and the girl ran off upstairs.
That’s when Lonnie noticed the ring on Joyce’s finger.
It’s an obvious explanation, for the house and the unknown girl who answered the door. They’d been divorced years, yet Lonnie still found the whole idea surprising.
Joyce didn’t let him inside. In fact, she closed the door as she met him at her doorstep.
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to check in, see the boys.”
It was a flimsy lie, Joyce could see right through him.
“But why didn’t you call?”
“I didn’t get a chance,” again, a lie.
“It’s been six years, Lonnie, since we've seen you. Six years. A lot has changed, you know.” she hissed.
“I can see that,” he nodded to the ring. Joyce glanced down at it. “Who’s the lucky fella?”
As if on queue, the door opened. And Jim Hopper stepped out.
“Him, really?” Lonnie found himself asking, but kicked himself mentally in the head - of course it’s Hopper.
“Lotta attitude for someone whose kids I’ve been raising.” Hopper replied, glaring down at him.
“Chill, Hop.” Joyce replied, “come in Lonnie, the boys are both home - but I don’t think they want to see you”
They went into the house, and Lonnie looked around. Their old family furniture made it almost familiar, a couch he helped choose, a dining table he assembled. The walls were decorated with photographs in a way their old house never was, his smiling, growing boys with Joyce, and Hopper, and their step-sister - supposably. Lonnie couldn’t remember anything about Hopper having a daughter. Didn’t she die of cancer? Was that someone else’s kid? Lonnie didn’t know.
“Nice place.” He said, making small talk.
“Yeah, no thanks to you” Hopper said dryly.
Lonnie glared at him, but didn’t reply. The last thing he needed to do was stir a pot he already had
Joyce went upstairs and Hopper took him to the kitchen.
“Tea or Coffer?” Hopper asked. Hospitality seemed almost humorous, especially through Hopper’s gritted teeth. Lonnie wondered which option would make Hopper less angry.
“Just a water, thanks” he mustered out - a safe option, it appeared.
****
Joyce heard music from Jonathan’s room, yet it was underneath a whispered argument. She was met with her three kids sat huddled on Jonathan’s bed, turning to look as she entered.
“Where is he?” Will asked.
“Downstairs.”
“You let him in the house?” Jonathan asked, accusingly.
“Neither of you have to talk to him. Look, I don’t even know really why he’s here - probably homeless, or on a run from the police. But, say the word and I’ll kick him out. I promise.”
Jonathan and Will looked at each other.
“He doesn’t know, does he … about me?” Will whispered.
Joyce shook her head, “that’s up to you,”
“What do you mean?” El asked, Jonathan and Joyce shared an amused look. El could be cute in her cluelessness - homophobia was something she just never quite grasped.
“Lonnie’s an asshole, basically.” Jonathan answered her, before turning to Will. “I’ll only go down and see him if you want too.”
“But you don’t want to?” Will asked.
“I don’t know, honestly. I’m angry at him, I don't know how I would react to seeing him in person now.”
Will stared into space for a moment. “I want to see him.” He decided. “But I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s okay, I can do the talking.” Jonathan replied, squeezing Will’s hand.
“Me too. I’ll tell him he’s a mouth breather.” El said determinedly, grabbing Wills other hand.
Will chuckled, “okay”
***
Joyce came down first, “They’re coming.”
All of a sudden, Lonnie didn’t know what to do. Should he stand to greet them, smile? Should he be casual? Serious?
Before he could make a decision, they were at the door.
Jonathan, taller, more adult, stood protectively in front of Will. Will - who has changed even more than his brother, grown to a height that would challenge Lonnie himself. Lonnie did some quick maths in his head, Will would be a high school senior.
“Hi,” Lonnie said, moving forwards towards them. He wanted to go in for a hug, but Jonathan’s cold glare suggested otherwise.
Instead, Jonathan sat opposite Lonnie, Will next to him. And, next to Lonnie sat the unknown girl - ‘El’.
“This is Jane,” Joyce offered, breaking the silence, “mine and Hop’s adopted daughter.”
He almost frowned. Jane? He could’ve sworn she said ‘El’, but he shook it off and offered a hand “I’m Lonnie.”
“No shit” she replied coldly, “mouth breather”
Will and Jonathan suppressed a chuckle, which then extended to Hopper - who was smiling from the kitchen sink.
A simple moment, as if between sons and their father. A moment Lonnie watched as an observe, disconnected from what should’ve been his.
“What do you want?” Jonathan asked, bluntly. His voice was slightly deeper, and Lonnie swore he caught the faint scent of weed.
“To apologise.” Lonnie started, “I know I haven’t been here for you both as much as I should have”
Jonathan rolled his eyes - “you haven’t been here at all.”
Lonnie drew out a breath - “everyday I live regretting how I left your mother to raise you alone. Left you without a father - “
“Mom didn’t raise me alone” Will said, making eye contact with Lonnie for the first time. Will’s eyes went to Jonathan - “Jonathan gave up most of his childhood to look after me. How fucked is that though? That I had to rely on my brother to be my Dad, I mean, who was there for him?". Jonathan was taken aback, he didn't realise how much Will had taken notice of this. Heck, his mom didn't even acknowledge it. Joyce was staring at the floor, but moved her head to look at Jonathan, her eyes saying 'I'm sorry.' Lonnie silently stared at his feet - embarrassed.
“You know, Hopper shows me more love in a week than you did my entire life - he actually cares about me, all of me, in a way you never did.”
Will was strong in his words, but tears prickled in his eyes. Hopper was crying too - his arm around Joyce’s waist as they leaned against the kitchen counter.
“I don’t need you. I’ve got my family, I don’t need anyone else.”
Everyone was silent. Jonathan was holding Wills hand tightly, his eyes glued to his mom, he smiled at her.
“Jonathan - “ Lonnie found himself saying, weakly, flatly.
“Will’s right.” He responded, “you left me to raise my younger brother without really knowing what a father was supposed to look like. I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that. But, I also know, that the family I have right now - with Hopper and Jane - is something we wouldn’t have without your shittiness.”
The look Jonathan gave him that day would soon become burned in his memory - haunting him until his final days.
An enduring silence echoed across the room. Lonnie tried to advert his gaze from the happy family portraits and trinkets of family life scattered across the messy kitchen. Although Jane was adopted, she looked like a miny Joyce, and easily sat next to Will and Jonathan as their sister. He wondered if anyone ever assumed her and Will were twins.
“I’ll walk you out,” Hopper said next, picking up Lonnie’s half drunk glass of water and tipped it in the sink.
Lonnie stood up, looking at his sons. “I’m sorry” he whispered one more time, which got no response.
Feeling Hoppers police authority, Lonnie began walked away, feeling every bit of remorse that had clung to him like cigarette smoke since the day he left them.
Walking across to the door, the rug was literally pulled from beneath him, and he fell to the cold floorboards.
“What the heck,” he exclaimed loudly, the rug now bunched up next to the wall.
Hopper was unfazed, but his eyes flickered quickly to Jane. “Ignore that,” he said.
Lonnie found himself walking out of the house confused and more lost than when he had entered it. “But it just - what?” He said breathlessly at the doorway.
Hopper ignored his queries, but maintained a stern gaze at Lonnie. “They’re good kids, Lonnie,” Hopper said, “I’m very lucky to have them in my life. Joyce too. Have a good trip home.”
The door shut, and Lonnie was left outside the very family he had spent years wondering over. Part of him knew the reason he had never reached out, was because he was scared for this very reaction. Rage and anger, part of him knew they’d just reject him, strip him of his ‘dad’ title.
Through the frosted door window, Lonnie noted the shape of Hopper return to the kids and Joyce. He noted how Jonathan hugged Hopper, bringing Will in as well.
He sighed, stepping back. He returned to his car - mission failed. The only one he wasn’t allowed to fuck up.