Work Text:
December 11th, 1986
For what felt like the millionth time Hawk stared at the papers his lawyer sent him a few days ago. Even though he’s been living alone for two months since Lucy moved out, somehow, deep down he hoped she would change her mind and come back. Instead, came divorce papers, already signed by her hand.
According to those papers Hawk got his car, half of their money and the house on Fire Island he still hadn’t sold, due to an advice from his estate agent. She was right, as the house almost doubled the price over those ten years since Hawk’s bought it and it kept going up. Now, though, he would probably have to sell it, because the house he was currently living at would soon become Lucy’s.
He cursed and put the papers away. The reality stubbornly didn’t want to settle in his head. How exactly was he supposed to throw away thirty years of marriage with one stroke of the pen? And so soon? Despite everything, Lucy was his life. Hawk used to believe he could separate his family and the rest of it, but for years Hawkins Fuller, a married man, and Hawkins Fuller, a homosexual who could fuck anyone he wanted, kept blending, until he became none of them.
He sighed and dialed his daughter’s number.
“Hello sweetheart,” he greeted when Kimberly answered. “Is your mother there?”
“She went out with some friends. I’ll tell her you called. Are you okay, daddy?”
“I’m just… Did you know she signed the divorce papers?”
“I did.” Kimberly was silent for a minute. “You know it doesn’t change anything, right? You’ll still be my Mom and Dad. Jenny’s and Jack’s grandparents.”
“I know,” Hawk replied. Kimberly’s calm voice eased the uncomfortable knot in his chest a little. He still had a family. He wasn’t alone.
“Hey, I hope you’re still spending Christmas Eve with us? The kids have already drawn a dozen gift cards for you. Much better than last year, I promise.”
For a second Hawk imagined what a family dinner it would be. Lucy and him, not talking, and Mark’s parents, who still have no idea why exactly they are divorcing. Not that anyone knew. Hawk wasn’t sure he knew. He wasn’t ready to talk about any of this with Kimberly right now. Maybe next week.
“I have a box with all their drawings,” Hawk laughed, dodging answering the question. “I used to have one for yours and Jackson’s. I bet it’s still somewhere in the house.”
He made a mental note to take it with him when he will be moving out.
“Thank you, Kim,” he said. For understanding. For not taking the sides. For being my daughter.
He hung up the phone and read the papers for the million-first time. He slowly counted to ten, before taking the pen and ripping the band-aid off.