namaste

The first two days were a bit of chaos as was expected, the first night was a little less than a shit show, if anybody were to ask. Ollie had been good all day, until an hour before bedtime. Realising that he hadn't packed his favourite blanket had led to the younger son being a bit emotional. Offering every blanket they could find, none seemed good enough. At wits end, Finan was nearly in tears himself when Carys came to the rescue.

Bringing in a quilt that her grandmother had made her, as a little girl, she offered it to Ollie. Folding it up into a pillow size, she placed it beside his pillow and insisted that it was just as cosy and wonderful as his. Unsure about the flower print and the cute animals, Ollie gave in and decided to try it. Whatever worked. Snuggled into his bed, tears seeming to subside, he thanked Carys for the blanket and promised that he'd try to make it work.

Simon had been in bed before either adult could even say goodnight, no doubt wanting to be left alone, and away from his brother's drama.

Halfway through the third night, a soft knock sounded on the half open bedroom door. Finan woke, rubbing his eyes and turned on his lamp to find Ollie's face poke through the crack in the door.

“Can't sleep?” Ollie shook his head. “I can't sleep in new places, either.” Finan got out of bed, quietly checking to make sure he hadn't woke Carys. “Let's go watch tv and see if we can go back to sleep on the couch.”

Grasping Carys' quilt, Ollie followed Finan down stairs. Finan brushed his hand over Ollie's hair, sitting on the couch and getting him to join. Leaning against Finan with the blanket in his clutches, Ollie yawned.

“What should we watch?” Finan inquired turning on the tv, making sure the volume was low.

“Nothing scary.” Ollie mumbled.

“Good, I don't like scary movies either.” Finan smiled, slinging an arm around his son. “What about...” he scrolled through their options.

“I like Percy Jackson.” Ollie spoke up as Finan scrolled by the series. “Can we watch that?”

“Absolutely.” A low volume on the television, Finan turned on the subtitles, glancing at Ollie whose yawns were growing bigger. “When you were a babe, ya had a hard time sleeping.” Finan informed with a fond smile. “I would put you in the carrier and go for walks with ya.”

“Even at night?”

“Even at night.” Nodding, Finan placed the remote down on the end of the couch. “You would snuggle in and be asleep before I got half a mile, every time.”

Rubbing his eyes, Ollie's chuckle was low. “I don't think we could do that now.”

“We could try?” Teasing, Finan nudged Ollie in the side.

“Nah, I don't think ya could carry me for half a mile.” Ollie snickered, another yawn following.

In the dark room, the television played, Ollie leaning against Finan with the quilt semi pulled over him, softly snoring. Finan checked on him a couple of times, making sure he was comfortable. Despite being curled in a ball with his head on Finan's arm, Ollie seemed to be content. Leaning his head back against the couch, a move he would regret later, Finan closed his eyes and sighed.

A lot of years and memories had passed since he had been awake, in the middle of the night, with Ollie. Even more time since he had been awake with Simon. Eyes closed, Finan frowned, and sniffled. Memories of the boys as babies always left him feeling as though there was a hole in his chest that could never be mended. At least every second night, Finan would be awake, walking Ollie down the street. Back and forth, until he knew the babe was truly settled and asleep. If the weather was too wet or too cold, he would pace their kitchen for hours.

Lina was home, every day, with two young children. Needing her rest, Finan was always more than happy to take the night shifts. Whether it was feeding, changing, comforting, or illness. He was out of bed and rushing to the nursery.

During his affair, it was the one thing that didn't change at home. Finan would “work” longer hours, going in earlier and coming home late. Even telling a lie or two about picking up extra shifts on the weekends, one weekend he had lied about a conference – spending the entire weekend in bed with another woman. For the most part, when bedtime arrived, Finan was there to see the boys were bathed and in bed on time. If one of them woke during the night, he was in full dad mode.

Ollie had been so little when he'd left. At first Lina had allowed him visits on weekends, overnight at the small flat that he'd rented until he could sort things out. Eventually, the visits began to dwindle and Finan found a better paying job in England. Making the move had been the right choice, the pay was better, and he had the promise that he'd see the boys often.

Scoffing as he sat with his eyes closed, Finan swallowed the growing lump in his throat. In the past he had been an absolute arseling. No wonder his own kids hated him. Rubbing the back of his hand across his nose, attempting to hold in the tears, he sighed. The past was just that. It couldn't be changed, but they could work on the present and the future.

Carys had woke to find Finan missing. Rubbing her eyes, she smirked to find her reading glasses on the small stand beside the bed on Finan's side. An hour or so ahead, she'd gone to bed to do some reading. When she'd fell asleep with her book in hand, Finan had placed her book and glasses on his night stand. A partially open bedroom door, gave way to a quiet house.

Either the boys were in bed and Finan had gone for a run, or they'd killed one another while she'd slept. Stretching as she stepped out of bed, Carys reached for her robe and put her feet into her slippers. Quietly sneaking out of the bedroom, she glanced up and down the hall. Simon's bedroom door was shut, but Ollie's was open. Walking by, there was no sign of the youngest.

At the top of the stairs, Carys could hear a slight shuffling in the kitchen. The smell of coffee beginning to brew rising to meet her. Finan's unmistakable accent was quiet, as he carried on a conversation. Each step, she grew closer to the conversation, taking a moment to pause and listen as Finan spoke with Ollie. Their tones jovial, Ollie even giggled a bit.

Some how, Carys knew that Ollie would be the easier one to win over. He was young and impressionable. Not to mention, he hardly remembered the hurt that Finan had caused the family, when he'd made his choices. Sometimes younger children were more forgiving.

“A poison garden?” He enthusiastically asked his father. “Can we go?”

“When your brother wakes up, we'll discuss it.” Finan's answer came with a bit of a nervous laugh. “Simon will probably want to leave me in it.”

“Simon is cranky all the time. Mum says he's moody. Tom says he's a little dic-”

“Good morning!” Carys called out, the last thing she needed was for Ollie to upset his father first thing in the morning. Finan and Simon were working on their differences, but if Finan heard that another man was calling his son a dick, there would be a war before breakfast.

Passing by a scowling Finan, she pinched his chin and gave him a kiss. Licking her lips, she raised her brow and very slightly shook her head. “Don't.” she whispered. Turing to face Ollie, she turned on her warm and inviting smile. “How are you, Ollie?”

“I'm good.” Shrugging, Ollie smiled back at her. “We're going to the poison garden!”

“I said we will see, we have to wait for Simon to wake up.” Finan reminded his youngest. “Ollie, why don't ya run up and change? Get yourself ready for the day and I'll make breakfast? How does french toast sound?”

“Okay.” Ollie slid off of his seat, disappearing into the other room to grab Carys' blanket before heading to get ready for the day.

Reminding Ollie not to run or make too much noise, Simon was still sleeping, Finan turned to Carys wide eyed and slightly annoyed. “He told me that Tom thinks...”

“I heard him. Babe, don't. It's not worth being mad at some man that you don't even know.” Carys coached, pouring a cup of coffee. “Simon and Ollie are here, right now. Let's focus on the good that is going to come from this.”

“You're right, my love.” Finan huffed, turning to get a bowl to make breakfast.

“Good. You were up early, did you go for a run?” Carys asked sipping her coffee.

“Ollie couldn't sleep.” Finan explained with a shrug. “We came down around three and he was back asleep by quarter after.”

“I would have came down.” Carys ran her hand over Finan's shoulder. Passing him a mug of coffee.

“Nah, you're working today, my love. I'm home. Besides, I'm his father, it's my duty.”

“I love you, so much.”

“I love you, my love.” Finan accepted the coffee, taking a sip and letting to wash over his soul.

“So, he really likes that quilt.” Carys commented with a smile.

“Seems to. You're a saint, thank you for letting him use that.”

“Finan, baby, I want him comfortable here. It was nothing.” Carys gave him a peck on the lips and sighed. “I need to get ready to leave. Will you lads be okay here?”

“Aye, we'll manage.” Finan nodded, although he didn't entirely feel as confident as he looked. “Your breakfast will be ready to go, when ya come down. Did ya want some french toast to take?”

“Ah,” Carys paused, it did sound rather lovely, “yes! Please. I can torment Erik, with the smell. You know how he hates cinnamon.”

“Okay, no tormenting the co-workers, we need them to cover for our wedding.” Finan laughed tossing a balled up napkin in her direction, as she blew him a kiss and wandered off to the stairs.

Breakfast underway, Finan stood in his sleep shorts and tshirt, watching the french toast to make sure it didn't burn. Behind him, he could hear footsteps, turning to see the tall figure from the corner of his eyes. Finan cleared his throat.

“Coffee is ready, if you drink it?” He hadn't really paid attention to Simon's morning habits, the first two mornings, nobody saw Simon until almost noon. Coming down while Finan and Ollie were taking advantage of the pool. “We have tea, juice, milk...”

“Coffee is fine.” Simon's reply came as a typical mumble.

“Above the dishwasher, right hand side.” Finan instructed on where to get a mug.

Simon nodded and moved around his father, who was flipping a second piece of french toast into a glass container for Carys. Taking another piece from the egg and milk mixture, Finan placed it in the pan. Standing for a few seconds watching Finan, Simon reached up to retrieve a mug. Not saying another word, he grabbed the coffee pot and poured a cup of coffee.

“Sugar is in the dish. Milk is in the fridge.” Finan informed with a slight smile.

Lifting the mug of black coffee, Simon took a sip and licked his lips. Finan chuckled. “I knew ya had good taste.”

“Sure.” Simon's reply was dry.

“Do ya like french toast?”

“It's okay.”

“If ya want something else, I can make it.”

“No, it's fine. Ollie likes it more than me, but I'll eat it.” Standing by the sink, Simon gazed out into the morning. A hint of sun peeked through the grey sky.

Day Three, so far he had managed to survive. How long he wanted to keep doing this, Simon wasn't certain. Carys was okay, but Finan was – Simon hadn't quite put his finger on it. Finan tried too hard. An appropriate way of summing it up.

After seven years, why had Finan even bothered to agree? Everyone, in Simon's opinion, would have been just fine if things had been left as is. Sure, he was facing boarding school with the possibility of no return, but it would have been better than this. Ollie was growing restless at home, understandable, Simon watched as his little brother became, unknowingly, more annoying each day. A kid trying to get attention, but didn't have a rebellious bone in his body, Ollie opted to grow clingy since their new sister had arrived.

Simon was a teenager, there shouldn't be an awkward tension between him and a baby, yet there was. Since his mother had told them that she was pregnant – a conversation that happened because one of her friends had asked about her pregnancy, while Simon was present – it felt as though anything and everything Ollie or Simon said or did had in some way become a burden to her.

Hating a baby was stupid. What kind of a moron hated a baby?

Yet, every time Simon looked at her or heard her screeching like a banshee, he seemed to hate her a little more.

If asked to rank his current hatred, Simon had Finan at the top and his mother and Tom a close second.

Sipping his coffee, he sighed and rubbed his left fist against his eye. At least, if this wasn't too generous, Finan was trying. Whether it was because he cared or because he wanted to look like the hero was what Simon was unsure of.

A stack of french toast on a plate, Finan hummed to himself as he made breakfast. All in all, he was annoying with his try-hard ultimate dad routine, but Simon was slightly happy that at least here they gave Ollie the attention that he was craving.

“Good morning, Simon.” Carys greeted him with a happy sing-song tone. “Did you sleep well?”

No words, only a shrug.

Accepting the interaction, Carys' smile was kind. “When I get home maybe we could -”

Racing into the kitchen, excitedly, Ollie cut her off – unintentionally – mid thought. Enthusiasm radiating from the boy. “Simon, we're going to a poison garden!”

Carys would swear that she heard a soft, “Cool”, coming from the older boy. Pouring coffee into her orange travel mug, she offered Simon what was left in the pot.

“I said we would see. If Simon doesn't want to go, then he doesn't have to. Or, maybe he has ideas of what he'd like to do?” Finan passed Ollie three plates to put on the table. Asking him to grab forks as well.

“Nah, a poison garden is okay.” Taking another sip of coffee, Simon swore it was soothing his soul.

“Yes! It's going to be lit!” Ollie cheered careful not to throw the last fork in his hand, as he threw his arms in the air.

Laughing at the excitement, Carys placed the lid on her mug and grabbed her bag. Moving around the kitchen to properly say goodbye to Finan, she pushed a blonde curl behind her ear and smiled at him.

“You have fun, I will be home around three-thirty, but don't feel that you need to be here for me.” Carys informed giving Finan a kiss, as he passed her the container for breakfast at work. “I love you. Remember, deep breaths.”

“I love you, more.” Finan challenged, asking her to make sure Brida got the extended file on one of his clients, who was soon to be discharged from full time physio care. Promising to get Brida the file first thing, Carys blew him a kiss and waved to the boys. “That's the three of us then.”

Lost in his excitement of the poison garden, Ollie didn't seem to notice or care that Carys was gone or that Finan had placed their breakfast on the table. Instructing his younger brother to sit down and eat, Simon gave his head a subtle shake. Watching as he pointed to a chair and waited for Ollie to get settled, Finan furrowed his brow. When they weren't bickering, Simon really took care of his younger brother. Almost a second nature, the teenager would gently parent the younger sibling.

Finan felt his heart sink a tad bit, curious to know, but not willing to ask in the moment. How often and for how long had Simon been the parent? Lina had been adamant over the years that the boys were fine without their father – had they been?

Taking a seat at the table, Finan folded his hands and rested his elbows on the smooth surface, his gaze immediately landing on Simon. “Anything that you'd like to see or do? Any place that ya want to go?”

“Home?”

“Aye, well, unfortunately that's not an option today.” Reaching across to take a piece of french toast from the plate in the middle of the table, Finan shrugged.

Walking into work, Carys felt her tone shift and her body relax. Who would have thought that work would be relaxing? Placing her bag on her desk, she sighed and looked over a few notes that had been left on the computer screen via Eadith and Aldhelm. All tasks that were reasonable and doable by the end of the day. Coffee in place, Carys reached into her bag for breakfast. If she ate now, she'd have a few minutes to spare before the first client of the day.

Erik's client was the first in this morning, an older lady who had been coming back from hip surgery. A bit stern and rather cranky, the woman seemed to melt when he tall blond physiotherapist was present. Brida chalked it up to his charm and Carys would agree. Originally, the client had started with Finan, but for some reason kept complaining that he was too difficult to understand. After her third remark about the filthy Irish, Finan was happy to show her to Erik's door.

Carys took the cover off of the container, breakfast wasn't hot, nor was it too cold. Too lazy to walk around the corner to the microwave, Carys pulled out her chair and got settled. While eating, she had planned to do some paperwork.

With Finan at home, the office was some how quieter.

Mid way through her breakfast, Carys paused her eating and note taking, when Aldhelm's slender figure hovered over her desk. Working in his office, he hadn't wanted to bother her right away.

“Good morning, Alds. What's up?”

“Same shit, different sunrise.” Aldhelm rolled his eyes and forced a smile.

“Oh, it's only eight, rough day already?” Carys pushed aside breakfast for a moment.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Aldhelm shrugged. “Sort of. Aelfwynn had a melt down this morning, because Arthur touched her favourite doll.”

“I'm sorry. Sounds rough.” Carys gave him her best sympathetic look. “Aethelflaed mentioned that it's been a thing lately. I saw her yesterday at the shops, when I got off work.”

“She mentioned that.” Aldhelm smiled at the mention of his wife. She had been growing as exhausted as he was. “It seems like everything we do, Aelfwynn hates Arty more.”

“I'm in no position to give anybody advice on being a parent,” Carys chuckled and Aldhelm gave her a tired grin, “but maybe she's just needing some time? She was used to being the only child for five years, she had you guys all to herself for so long.”

“That's it,” Aldhelm's brow creased, “when she's with Aethelred, she doesn't do this and he has two other children. What are we doing wrong?”

“Well,” Carys sighed, “she doesn't see him often and to be fair, I wouldn't fight for his attention either.”

Rewarding the comment with a scoff, Aldhelm chuckled dryly. Aethelflaed's ex-husband was not Aldhelm's favourite person.

“Maybe she doesn't see him enough to care? Or maybe she is with you more and doesn't want to share?” Carys tried her best to offer any advice. “Whatever it is, I promise you, she probably won't do it forever. She's seven. At least she doesn't hate you and Aethelflaed too.”

Aldhelm nodded and hummed. “How are Simon and Ollie?”

“Ah well.” it was Carys' turn to scoff. “Ollie is sweet and very funny. Simon is...he's fourteen and was sent away to live with his estranged father.”

“Rough?”

“It's hard. I think for him and Finan. They're so much alike, they can't see it, but it's partially why they are always at odds.”

“It's only...day three? Or four?” Aldhelm questioned.

“Oh, uh...well it's not a week yet.” Carys laughed. “Although it feels like it's been a year. Honestly, I think they're good kids, but they need to find their place. I love Finan, that man means everything to me, however...” she paused and shrugged. “I feel that this is going to be a big learning curve for him. For me, too.”

Tapping his fingers against the side of Carys' desk, Aldhelm nodded and smiled wide. “If anybody can figure this out, it will be you and Finan. I mean hell, if Brida can parent...” Carys giggled. “In all seriousness, you have made me feel better. My kids hate each other, yours hate everything and everyone.”

“Happy to be of help.” Carys cheerfully replied, half in sarcasm.

“Speaking of help.” Aldhelm paused. “I am no expert, but I am happy to lend a hand in any way.”

“Finan and I appreciate that.” Carys' smile was endearing as she thanked Aldhelm.

“Okay then, carry on with your day.” Aldhelm half laughed, parting with his usual question about whether or not she had found his note. Happy with the response, he left Carys to her morning, returning to his office where a strong cup of coffee and a biscuit were waiting for him.

Retrieving her phone from her bag, Carys sent Finan a text to quickly check in. Adding that she loved and missed him, to have a great day – to try and keep it together with Simon, and to please be gentle with himself, if things didn't turn out the way he had planned in his mind.

Reading the text from Carys, promptly, Finan informed her that so far they were all alive. Reassuring that he would take her advice and be patient, he finished with a heart and tucked his phone back in his pocket.

Motivating two kids to get out the door, in a timely fashion, was more difficult than Finan had imagined. Sihtric had made it look effortless with his six. Uhtred had a tiny bit of a struggle, but that was mostly Stiorra. The girl was her father through and through, stubborn as the day was long.

“We need to get going, I've booked online, but we need to be here or we lose our spot.” Calling up stairs to the boys, who had been sent to get their jackets and come right back down. “Two minutes.”

Calling out the time warning, Finan heard a set of feet hit the floor, racing through the upper level and down the stairs. Appearing before him in the living room, Ollie stood with a jacket in hand and his Nintendo Switch in the other, for the car ride of course. Another time warning called out, Finan tapped his fingers against his thigh.

If Simon wanted to stay behind, Finan was more than happy to allow that. More than old enough to be in his own, Simon seemed responsible. Finan brushed his hand over Ollie's dark hair, flicking a small piece of lint from the top. Staring at the game device in his hand, Ollie didn't seem to notice.

“Simon, if you want to stay home...”

“I'm coming.” Simon called back, lazy footsteps trudging through the hall and down the stairs. Resentfully standing before his father, staring at his phone, Simon didn't bother to say anything else.

“Okay, do we have everything?” Finan checked to make sure he had his keys and wallet. Phone was accounted for as was his umbrella and jacket, the slight cloud coverage was enough for him to take the threat of rain. Waving his hand in front of Ollie's face, he gave his youngest a pointed stare. “Are we ready to go?”

“Huh?” Looking up at his father, Ollie blinked hard. “Oh yeah.”

Herding cats would be far easier than managing children.

Despite his best efforts, Finan found the drive silent. Neither son wanting or caring to engage. Ollie played his game, while Simon spent time on his phone. No doubt, Simon as texting his friends to inform them of how lame and annoying Finan was. Getting in his own head, Finan sighed, flipping the indicator light to make a right hand turn, he debated trying to engage the boys in conversation.

Trapped with their father, in a car, for the next forty or so minutes, Finan had the perfect opportunity to speak with them one on one. Zero interruptions. The problem being, if their conversation went south, then it ruined the entire day. Ollie was looking forward to this and Finan didn't want to be the reason something else got screwed up, yet again.

Instead he went with the casual question. “Have ya spoken with your mum?”

“I sent her a text last night.” Simon actually answered without an eye roll or a grunt. “She was busy, but said that she could call us before the weekend.”

“Ah.” Finan lifted his chin in a half nod. A half glance at the teenager in the seat beside him, Finan pressed a teeny bit more. “So should ya call her later in the evening or earlier in the day?”

“It won't matter, she'll be busy.” Simon looked up from his phone screen, eyes matching Finan's looking as though he was the smallest bit disappointed.

“New babies keep ya busy. When you were a babe, I felt like we never had time to move, because as soon as we sat down ya needed us.” He added with a hint of a smile. The memories of the boys were often happy, at the same time Finan could feel his heart breaking. “I used to love cuddling ya, while I made dinner or read. Ya were so small, I could take a nap with ya on my chest.”

Simon shifted, gazing out the window. Whatever Finan was trying to gain with his stories or the “good old days” were not going in the way he imagined. In all honesty, Simon didn't care. What did it matter now, if at one point in time, Finan had attempted to be a hands on dad?

“We had a recliner, I would lie back in to watch football or rugby.” Finan continued, checking the GPS briefly. “I'd put ya on my chest and ya'd be out in minutes. We'd be there for hours, it was the greatest being a dad. I remember the day your mum told me that she was pre-”

Simon abruptly cut him off. “Ya obviously didn't love it or us that much.”

“Look, Simon.” Finan kept his attention on driving, not daring to look over at the hurt and anger that waited for him in the passenger's seat. “I wasn't fair and I have done terrible things, I know that.”

“Okay, then it's settled. We both think you're a piece of...”

“We do.” Nodding, Finan cleared his throat. “That we do, son.”

Stunned by the admission and Finan's lack of argument on the comment, Simon sat in slight disbelief. Was he...did he...Finan agreed? No argument. No rebuttal?

Knowing better, Simon only had one question. In fairness to Ollie, he should wait until they were home and not on their way to spend the day doing something exciting – despite his lack of outward enthusiasm, Simon as pretty eager to see this garden, he'd spent a bit of time looking it up this morning. Taking a quick glance to see Ollie wrapped in his game, his headphones still on, Simon drew a deep breath.

“Finan.” His voice stayed eerily steady. “Why? Why did ya do it? And why her?”

“I uh,” Finan shrugged, he had no real answer, “Connall wasn't good to her. I guess, somewhere in my mind, I could swoop in and be better than he was at something. It was stupid and immature. At the same time, I was scared to tell your mum that I wasn't in love with her anymore. I needed a way for her to leave me.”

“Ya could have just told mum.” Simon kept his composure. This was not the answer or the conversation that he had expected from Finan. “She would have been mad, but it wouldn't have ruined life for Ollie and I.”

“I know that now.” Finan nodded. “I take responsibility for what I did. It will never change, but I do hope at some point in your life, maybe we can work on building a relationship again?”

“You left us. I don't know if I can ever be okay with that. What about Carys? Are you going to grow bored of her and go fuck Connall's new wife?” Simon felt himself growing angrier, yet again.

“Language.” Finan tried his best to sound stern. Simon refusing to have a relationship with him hurt more than anything else could in the moment. Words bitter and Finan deserved them all. “I love Carys, very much. She loves me. Kind of you to think of her feelings. Your mum and I, we were never actually in love.”

“Does Carys know? Or were ya too coward to tell her?”

“She knows. I've told her about the affair, about your mum and I. She knows that we were never in love, hell I think your mum only stayed with me because of you and Ollie.” Finan took another glance a the GPS. “Simon, I do want to sit down and talk with ya, Ollie too. I want ya to be able to ask any question and I want to be open and honest.”

“Sure, because honesty is what ya do best.”

“I deserve that, I understand. Whenever ya want, name a day and we will sit down and talk as men.” Finan gestured to the small sign on the side of the road. “Right now, we need to bring your brother back to reality, we're almost there.”

During the tour, it was almost as if Ollie and Simon were having fun. Chattering eagerly with one another about the various poison plants and what they were learning. Simon would take his phone out, every so often, taking a picture or two. Ollie would eagerly point and try not to excitedly talk over the tour guide.

In the moment, they were two brothers, on an adventure.

How Finan envied and missed such days. When he and Connall were their ages, they loved nothing more than getting to go somewhere new and being allowed to explore. For hours they would torment and talk about what they had done or saw. Finan could remember how much fun he used to have with Connall, until they grew older and started finding different interests and friends. One day, Finan woke up, and decided that he'd had enough of Connall and his behaviour – that is when it all began to go to hell.

Somehow, Finan had even convinced them to take a photo by the gates of the garden. Smiles and all. Looking at the photo, one would never be able to tell that these were two brothers who were miserable.

After they had spent time exploring the castle grounds, where the garden resided, Finan had the idea that lunch was in order. Perhaps an ice cream? Who could say no to that? As predicted, both of his boys were happy to go along with the idea. Leave it to Finan, to know the best spot for a burger and the best ice cream. A little spot not too far from the castle, where they had the greasiest burgers. Carys wasn't so much a fan, but Finan had a feeling the boys would approve.

More than approve. Half of his burger falling apart as he took another bite, Ollie declared it the best thing that he had ever had. Simon wasn't as enthusiastic but it had certainly gained his approval. Although Finan would agree with Ollie, the real treat was the homemade ice cream that was served during the summer, from the small stand beside the burger shack.

“What if we asked some friends to come by this weekend?” Finan walked along, ice cream in one hand and Ollie's jacket in the other.

“Do they have kids?” Ollie immediately perked up.

“They do. My friend Uhtred has three and my friend Sihtric has six.” Informing the boys, Finan smiled.

“Six?” Simon wrinkled his nose, looking at his ice cream in disbelief. “Why?”

“Because he and his wife wanted a big family? It's not really your business. But they have a son around your age, Uhtred and his wife have a son around your age as well.” Finan replied taking a second to catch a bit of melting ice cream, before it reached his hand.

“What about me?” Ollie looked back taking a giant lick from his ice cream.

“Uhtred has a daughter your age. Sihtric has twins that are your age, a boy and a girl.” Finan smiled, passing his youngest a napkin to wipe his chin.

“Does it matter what we think? Or are you going to invite them anyway?” Simon huffed, dragging his feet along the stone pathway.

“It matters, yes.” Finan nodded, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head. Pausing, he turned to face Simon, nearly the same height they were almost eye to eye. “Although, I would encourage you to be open, eventually you're going to meet them. Who knows, maybe you can make some friends?”

“Good and then I can stop hanging out with you, like a baby.”

“If that is what you want, sure. But first, ya need to meet people, to make those friends.” Finan countered. “Saturday for five, they're coming over. Please, try to be in a good mood.”

“Simon is never in a good mood.”

“Fuck off, Ollie.”

“Don't.” Shaking his head, his stare firm. “Don't tell him to fuck off. In fact, for the rest of the summer, while you live with me, no more use of that word. Period. Or any other word that falls into that category.”

“Mum gets mad when he says it. Tom says it makes him look like a cheap -”

“You're mother and Tom aren't here. I respect that they have their rules and thoughts, but while we're together, let's go by the rules that Carys and I have set?” Finan gave Ollie a look of warning.

“Whatever.” Simon chucked the last of his soggy ice cream cone in a bin as they passed.

Finan sighed and tried to hide his annoyance. “Look, boys,” he looked at the melting ice cream in his hand, “I don't want to be a jerk. I want us to have a good summer, I want you to have a good summer. Can we agree that we all need to work on being better to one another?”

“I guess.” Ollie shrugged, taking a large bite from his cone.

“Simon?”

Shaking his head, Simon frowned. “You want us to be better to one another, but you're the one who constantly leaves us and who keeps fucking up? We're kids, man. We didn't ask for any of this or for you. I want to go home.”

“For right now, this is your home.” voice firm, Finan took his stand. At least he attempted to.

“Yeah, mum doesn't even want you at home. She says that you're ruining -”

“Ollie.” Scolding his youngest, for the first time, Finan had raised his voice to either of his children. “Enough!”

Shoving his brother, Simon was fuming. “Fuck off.”

“Simon.” Scolding his oldest, Finan stared in disbelief.

“What?”

“Car. We're clearly done for today. We're going home and taking a time out. When we get there, we separate for an hour and nobody speaks.” Finan demanded, pulling the keys from his pocket. “Carys may be there, when we get back, I'm going to tell her we need space. All of us.”

Oh boy, the car ride home had felt like an eternity with nobody speaking. Finan, parked the car and refreshed the rules.

Orders were simple : Walk inside, straight to your room, and don't come out for the next hour. They could do whatever they pleased during that hour, so long as nobody spoke to one another.

Stomping up the stairs, Simon didn't bother to even make eye contact as he went. At the top of the stairs, the stomping of feet paused to make way for a door slamming. Gritting his teeth, Finan would let it go, for now. Ollie stood silently in the kitchen, staring at his father, a little unsure of why he was a part of this. Gesturing to the hall where the stairs were, Finan placed the car keys on the bench and tilted his head. Silently instructing the younger boy to follow suit.

Ollie huffed and drug his feet towards the stairs, Nintendo Switch in hand, he slowly took each step at the speed of a turtle. Reaching the top, he stuck his tongue out at the closed door across the hall and retreated to his room.

Scrubbing his hands over his face, Finan wanted to scream.

In so many ways, he had brought this on all by himself.

For a fleeting moment, he had thought maybe they were making a break through. Chatting with Simon on the way to the garden, Finan had been open and honest. The father and son had been calm and rational, allowing one another to voice their feelings. Hours that had followed seemed to be relaxed and almost enjoyable. Simon and Ollie had almost looked happy during their tour.

Suddenly, something had switched. Again.

Texting Carys that they were home, but currently taking a vow of silence, Finan took his turn to go upstairs. Each foot fall felt heavier and heavier, as they often did these days. Pushing open the bedroom door, he shut it behind him, walking to the bed and falling face first into the plush mattress and soft bedding. This is where he would remain, face down, until the hour was up.

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