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If there's one thing he's learned about his son from his sudden appearance back into his life after an unexpected divorce to his impromptu phone call telling him he'd be taking Orel to his place today, no warning given, it's that he never quite learned to plan things right. Of course his own marriage is probably proof enough of that on its own.
Arthur wasn't ready to have anyone over but the moment the phone call ended he prepared himself for the inevitable bitter feeling of seeing Clay again. Of course his enthusiasm for having the chance to see his grandson again diminished the wave of dread that came with any reminders of his son. But he can't be thinking like that now.
He spends all day getting the house to look good, going about his business and taking care of everything he needs to do. He wants to have his afternoon free to spend some time with Orel, he wants to learn everything about him and see if he's already been brainwashed by that godforsaken, god-fearing town that corrupts everything it touches.
He's having a lemonade on the front porch when he sees a familiar car approaching. As he makes his way to the parked car, he tells himself to take a deep breath and take it easy. It's the first time he's seeing Orel in eight years. He sent him letters, birthday gifts and money before but only the gifts and money went through, Clay wouldn't let Orel read his letters.
His grandson steps out of the car looking just as eager to see him as Arthur is. He smiles the moment he looks at Orel, the boy is still so young even though he's gotten so tall. It's a relief to see he still has the same bright look in his eyes, the same skip in his step, he wasn't broken by that town or by his broken father, Arthur's broken son. Who he broke.
"Grandpa!" Orel says and flings himself into his arms.
Arthur hugs him back the moment he realizes he's being hugged, holding his grandson tightly and feeling his chest hurt from how much he missed him. He hears the car door slam shut and his son gets out too. Looking just as tired as he did when he got there for the first time in years, Clay raises his gaze to look at him and their eyes meet.
His son takes in the way he's hugging Orel and, in that moment, Arthur can see exactly what's on his mind. What moment he's being brought back to. In his eyes, Clay transforms into a twelve year old child again, same age as Orel and he hugs him the moment they leave with his mother's body. In the memory, Arthur pulls away from him in disgust.
Clay's eyes widen and he looks, for a short moment, like he's about to start crying. But he does something somehow even worse, he gives Arthur a distant expression, his eyes growing cold and unforgiving like his were every time he looked at his son. He then stops looking at him entirely, like he's not even there. Dismissing him with his gaze.
The same way Arthur dismissed him for years. His very presence in their house meaning nothing to him as he did what he had to do, uncaring of his son's feelings. Maybe this is what Arthur deserves. There's no restoring his relationship with Clay back to what it once was. And it was never really that great.
He has always blamed the boy for things he had no control over. It's perfectly understandable that he wants to blame Arthur for how he turned out, even if he made his own choices. It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things, Arthur knows he's still responsible for how his son is now. Even if Orel managed to keep his positive outlook in life, even with a lousy father.
"I almost didn't believe it when dad said I could see you again. It's been so long!"
It really has, Arthur pulls away from their hug to properly look at his grandson. He's smiling so wide his cheeks must hurt and the way he looks at Arthur makes it clear he still has some admiration for him. Enough that it almost makes him feel bad, like he's tricking the kid into thinking highly of him unbeknownst to the fact that he's partially responsible for his suffering.
Orel sure doesn't look like he's suffering though. Arthur hopes that's the case, that maybe the divorce isn't affecting him as much as it usually does for such a young child.
"I missed you so much, Orel," Arthur says, ruffling the boy's hair.
"I missed you too, grandpa! I saved every gift you gave me. But I did spend all the birthday money you sent."
"That's great, son. That money was for you. I'm glad you spent it. Got yourself something nice?"
Orel shakes his head, smiling.
"Nope. I gave it to God! Like Reverend Putty told us to."
Right. Of course. God. Arthur tries not to let his displeasure show on his face, this is his opportunity to get to see his grandson again and he won't mess it up by making him question things like last time. The last thing he needs is Clay deciding he's a bad influence on Orel and forbidding him from seeing him again.
"Well, that's... that's great. If that's something you wanted to do."
"It is!" Orel says and that's the end of that.
"Come on, let's get in. I made some lemonade. I hope you like it."
They make their way to the front porch, Clay walking with them instead of getting back in his car and driving away. His arms are crossed and his face is that of a child that is being forced to go on a trip they didn't agree to go on but he doesn't say anything. Orel looks at him at one point and his face lights up, he runs to stand in front of Clay and hugs him.
"Thanks for bringing me here, dad. I know you and grandpa don't see eye to eye on a lot of things but... it means a lot you let me come here and see him."
Clay doesn't pull away from the hug but he doesn't respond to it either, he stands there with his arms crossed as Orel hugs him and looks down at him with an unreadable look in his eyes. Whatever it is, it makes Arthur feel uneasy. But he tries to be positive about all this, he has to be because that's his only chance of seeing his grandson regularly.
"Yeah, yeah, don't mention it," Clay says, waving his hand dismissively. "Now go. Go spend time with your grandfather you missed so much. Shoo."
Orel is happy to do just that, skipping to the front porch and gratefully accepting the lemonade Arthur offers him. When he looks back at Clay, he decides to at least try to be polite and show him some kindness. He did this for him before when he showed up lost and looking for punishment wherever he could find it but now it feels like there's a wall separating them.
"Want some?" he offers, lifting up his cup.
"I brought my own."
His own apparently is a bottle of whiskey. Arthur watches him grab one of the empty glasses he kept on a tray where he put the lemonade jar and serve himself. He then drinks with impressive speed, downing the drink like it's water rather than alcohol. It fills him with dread to watch the whole scene play out.
"Tell your grandpa what you've been getting up to," Clay suggests, filling his glass once more.
"Oh, right. I've been getting into a lot of trouble lately, grandpa. First, there was the resurrecting the dead incident and then, well, I might've gotten a little addicted to crack. Of course after that there was the drinking pee thing. And just recently I accidentally caused the whole town to be set on fire."
Arthur can barely comprehend what's being said.
"Sorry, what?"
"But it's fixed now!" Orel cheerfully explains. "I make a lot of mistakes like that but it's fine because I'm still growing and learning stuff. And boy, I sure learn a lot when dad takes me to his study and spanks me with a belt so I know what I did was wrong."
Clay smiles victoriously when he sees the shock on Arthur's face, still trying to wrap his head around all the things his grandson apparently did.
"So you see, I have to lecture Orel and spank him. What else do you do with a kid that goes around doing things like that daily?"
Arthur gives him an annoyed look.
"Well, have you tried explaining to him that what he did was wrong and trying to understand why he did it?"
Clay rolls his eyes at that, going back to his drink while Orel stares at Arthur expectantly. He looks at his grandson, thinks about how naive he could be and how obsessed Moralton is with God and religion. What he thinks is that most of what his grandson does is probably caused by his own confusion, he doesn't believe the kid genuinely means any harm.
"Orel, when you do these things. Why do you do it?"
"Jeez, grandpa. I don't know. I guess I can't help it. Dad always says that kids are dumb and they just can't help being dumb sometimes."
Arthur doesn't buy it. Once again, he gives Clay a stern look, hoping to get him to understand this is a serious issue.
"Listen, son," he starts, putting his hand on Orel's shoulder. "When you uh, when you got... addicted to crack. How did that happen?"
Orel seems to think back on it for a moment.
"Well, Reverend Putty said that as good christians we should always help the poor. So I used the money I got working on Mr. Figurelli's store to buy some crack from a homeless guy. Because he said he'd only accept the money if I let him give me something in return."
The entire situation is too absurd to be real but it is real, he can see in Orel's face that he's being nothing but entirely honest. He doesn't think the boy has told a single lie in his life. Must be why he finds it so hard to believe that people lie, he has no concept of what is like to want to lie about something. Arthur thinks the world would be a much better place if more people were like his grandson.
"And you just let your son smoke crack and did nothing about it?" he asks Clay.
His son merely shrugs.
"How was I supposed to keep track of what he was doing? It was his money," he grumbles the last part.
"He's your son! Of course you're supposed to know what he's doing," Arthur spits out bitterly.
"Right, like you knew what I was doing all the time when I was thirteen and we lived in the same house and you never even looked at me?"
He squeezes the glass in his hand hard enough to make it shatter, both Arthur and Orel looking at it in horror, which is what makes him realize what he did. As Clay's eyes examine his own hand, now bleeding from the glass shards that got in his palm, Arthur runs his hands through his grandson's hair soothingly, wishing he didn't have to see that.
Or hear it, for that matter.
"I'm gonna get this cleaned up," Clay mutters and goes inside the house.
The silence that follows makes Arthur feel like a failure. What right does he have to judge Clay for not paying enough attention to his son when he most likely learnt that behavior from him? Of course he can't expect Clay to have any idea how to parent properly, he has never known what that's like.
But part of him can't help but despise Clay's lack of basic understanding of what he's doing. How can he give his son for that place to ruin? Does he not understand that what he's doing isn't helping, that all he's doing is teaching Orel to blindly trust anything an adult says without proof? Of course he'd want Orel to think anything he says is right.
"I'm sorry," Orel says, interrupting Arthur's thoughts.
"What for, son?"
"I didn't mean to make you and dad fight. I know you have a... complicated relationship."
Understatement of the year, Arthur thinks. He supposes Orel is too young to understand just how complicated his relationship with Clay is. If he knew the extent of everything that went wrong between them, would that make him see Arthur in a different light? Would he grow to hate him? Arthur doesn't really believe he would.
His grandson doesn't have an ounce of hatred in his heart, not even for those who actually deserve it. Arthur doesn't want to see the day that changes, the day he grows up and gets to see just how awful this world and the people in it can be. The day he learns to hate. He would do anything to make sure Orel won't have to learn that lesson anytime soon.
"Listen, Orel. You don't have to worry about things like that. That's not for you to figure out. What's going on between me and your dad it's between the two of us, you ain't got nothing to do with that. It's not your fault."
Orel nods, though he still looks far too dejected and to see him like that makes Arthur's chest hurt.
"Right," the boy says unconvincingly.
Arthur sighs.
"You want me to go check on your dad?"
Orel lights up, looking up at him with gratitude.
"That'd be great!"
Of course, Arthur can't blame the boy for caring. It's in his nature.
"Alright," he concedes. "I'll be right back."
Clay is in the kitchen with his back turned to him when Arthur gets in there. He can't quite see what he's doing but he assumes he must be trying to get rid of the glass in his hands and clean the cuts. For a moment, Arthur just stands there not knowing what he can do or say to make this situation better. He usually doesn't know what to say when it comes to Clay.
"Son of a-"
"You alright, son?"
The second he hears his voice Clay turns around so fast he hits his uninjured hand on the sink, staring at him wide eyed and slightly annoyed.
"Yeah. Everything's fine."
He looks back at his hand and Arthur gets close enough to look at it too, the cuts don't seem deep enough to be worrisome and he sighs in relief for that. Clay is watching him closely with something like suspicion in his eyes, his shoulders tense and his brow furrowed. It reminds Arthur of his outburst earlier and he steps away from his son in shame.
"Don't call me son," Clay tells him.
And he passes by Arthur without even looking at him and goes back outside. Arthur does the same but before he can make it outside, as he stands in the living room for a moment, he looks at a picture of him and Angela. He chose that picture from before Clay was born, a time he considered to be the best time in his life.
He stares at his long gone love, wonders how she'd feel about him now. Part of him knows exactly how she would feel but he chooses not to think too hard about it. He's trying to do right by his grandson, in a way he never could for Clay. In his head, he apologizes to Angela for that. For allowing her precious only ever to grow up unloved.
In a way, he can understand why it felt so good to ignore Clay. He who was once the most important person on that house, who thought so highly of himself because he was never taught to see himself as anything but perfect, precious and gifted to Angela by God. Of course it gave him satisfaction to neglect the boy.
Back then he thought of it as giving Clay what he needed. Some long awaited consequences for his selfish behavior. His son wanted him to hit him, wanted his attention on him by any means necessary. So he gave him the opposite, he treated him like he didn't exist. He ignored him for as long as he could until he finally got to leave him behind.
And he didn't for one second consider he was doing the wrong thing, making a mistake. He knows better now. He can see the long term effects his treatment of Clay had in him. He sees it in the way he acts now. Desperate to be taken seriously, desperate to have some power. Holding desperately onto everything he never even wanted to have in the first place.
Arthur doesn't know if Angela would forgive him for dismissing her baby, the same way he's not quite sure he forgives her for the cruel way she dismissed him from the very moment their son was born. But he does love her. He did love her. And he vows to be better as a grandfather than he was as a father, which really isn't that hard.
He tells himself it doesn't really matter if Clay forgives him or not. No matter what, he'll still have to live with the consequences of what Arthur did to him. He'll always partially be a product of his treatment of him. And maybe that's all that matters. He can't ask for forgiveness but he can try to make sure he won't make the same mistake twice.
For now, maybe that's enough. He knows it's at least enough for Orel. He can't claim to know what to do about his relationship with Clay. He doesn't want to believe it's too late to fix it but he thinks it might be best to settle for keeping a respectful distance. Not out of desire to be away from him but out of fear to mess him up again.
Still, it doesn't feel right to ignore his presence and focus on Orel. It feels like what he's done to him for years before leaving Moralton, it feels like a dismissal. And he doesn't want to keep teaching his son that he's not worth anyone's time. Even if he might not be. He wants to believe there's still something salvageable in Clay.
Most of all, he doesn't want to watch his grandson be dismissed because that's all he taught his son to do with his actions.